The Pawn Who Would Be Queen

In its former life, Prado Dorado AAB and Arsenal served the Equestrian Army as both a training facility for its pilots, and as a production and storage depot for various bits of equipment. Throughout its lifetime, more than five-hundred-thousand assorted small arms had been passed through the doors of its manufacturing center, as did countless crates of munitions, uniforms, helmets, belt-buckles, and anything else the Army might've needed in a pinch. The last rifle had rolled off the assembly line five years ago, the last aircraft lifted off from its runways a few days later. Since then it'd sat more or less untouched, with maintenance efforts focused solely on keeping the buildings in good repair.

According to the documents Orzel was provided by the realtor, which she'd had verified by the Defense Department, the Army had never formally demilitarized the base following its final departure... If anything, the various Armed Forces of Equestria used the base as a storage space for any excess equipment they couldn't find a use for, but didn't want to dispose of either. Once again, the Air Corps' shoestring budget indicated it'd cost too much to offload the extra gear prior to sale, and it was decided that selling off the facility with all its contents would be a far better financial decision.

As a result, the Princess had purchased not only the air base itself, but everything on it... Of course, this had entailed a series of new forms that needed signing, including a petition to have the site re-zoned as an 'Industrial Research Site'. For some reason, the Army was also requiring a thirty day waiting period, coupled with a criminal background check. Something to do with 'Security Clearance', though Orzel suspected it was a tactic concocted by her Mother to once again to sway her decision to purchase the facility. If that was the aim, however, it didn't work. As of zero-eight-hundred hours that morning, Prado Dorado passed into the ownership of the Basilisk Defense Technologies Board of Directors, and was officially renamed 'Maksym Field' by the company CEO, Princess Orzel.

It was all hers, lock, stock, and barrel... From the buildings, to the runways, heavy machinery, assorted logistical vehicles, office supplies. There was even a pair of outdated 'landships', the primitive precursor to the modern tank. These, Orzel was told, had been delivered to the base with the intention of expending them as targets for live fire exercises. There were countless other crates of 'Miscellaneous Equipment', whose paperwork had either been lost, destroyed, or simply thrown away over the past five years. Needless to say, the Princess draconic urge for material things was exceptionally pleased with the acquisition of so many new additions, and she intended to make as much use of them as she could.

Anything she couldn't find an immediate or possible future use for would be sold off... If she played her cards right, she might even manage to recoup the money she'd spent to begin with. Before she could do that, however, she had to conduct a detailed inventory of just what she had at her disposal. Not especially an easy task given the size of the site, some four-thousand acres, protected by doubled up chain link fences, spaced five feet apart and topped with barbed wire. At the center of that fenced in area were two paved runways. These converged together to form a 'T', with the longer of the two oriented North to South, and the other East to West. The runways were in turn connected by numerous taxiways and tarmac pads, and it was on this tarmac that Orzel spotted four massive aircraft hangars. A tall Air Traffic Control tower, easily two-hundred feet tall, loomed beside one of the hangars... She had yet to explore these areas.

The asphalt and concrete had obviously seen better days, and strips of grass could be seen through various cracks, snaking randomly across their surface. The grassy areas were widely overgrown, though much of that overgrowth had died off as a result of falling temperatures. In addition to the hangars, there were more than a dozen concrete and steel revetments, and it was here that she'd encountered her first 'miscellaneous items'. It appeared that the Army Air Corps had left more than trucks and crates behind...

Orzel counted four L-7 Buzzards, biplanes that'd been taken out of front line service eight years ago, though they still saw some limited service in other governmental agencies. Buzzards were remarkably sturdy, and as they'd been designed at a time where aircraft manufacturing was more a cottage industry, they made use of modified automobile engines. Thus, they tended to be exceptionally slow, at least according to what she knew of their history. Some still served in the various Territorial Air Garrisons, but their most frequent users were Forest Service and the Border Patrol...

They were easy to maintain as they didn't require specialized engine mechanics, and could land virtually anywhere, which made them ideal for operations in undeveloped areas. Were these particular Buzzards in working order, Orzel easily might've been able to make a couple thousand Bits selling each to private Air Mail services. It was easy to tell, however, that the aircraft unfortunately were nowhere near working order. As the girl stood before the fourth aircraft, clipboard in hand, she was struck by a strange sensation. The paint was long faded, the fabric skin covering the fuselage torn, and the engine was streaked with rust. One of the four had collapsed upon its landing gear, two more were still standing, but otherwise essentially total write-offs. The fourth might still be salvageable, at least as a museum piece. Orzel doubted if it'd ever fly again, but she might be able to at least make it look pretty.

It was remarkable to her, that at one time these decrepit hulks had been considered the pinnacle of engineering. Liberator Aviation, the company responsible for its production, had been so inundated with orders that they'd needed to build a new factory just to accommodate demand... It'd been the Buzzard that essentially kick-started the aviation industry in Equestria, the first reasonably priced combat aircraft that virtually anyone could fly. Now, four of the once hotly desired Buzzards sat in silent repose, deemed of such little importance that they'd been abandoned to rust away in silent obscurity.

Orzel knew they were incapable of feeling, much like Wojtek, or even the currently fitting out ESS Sokol, but... It was hard for the Princess not to imagine the betrayal she might've felt, were she in their place. Part of her felt that in spite of their in-animation, certain machines somehow possessed a 'spirit'. The girl sighed softly through her nose, quickly jotting down the tail number of the final aircraft on her inventory sheet. Striding towards the Buzzard, the girl carefully climbed up onto the wing, then peered into the cockpit. She could only imagine what it was like, to be one of the spell-casters or earth-walkers to have ridden in the pilot seat all those years ago, doing for the first time what'd long been deemed the privilege solely of the pegasi. What thrill that must've been...

Seeing that all the gauges seemed intact, the Princess hopped down onto the tarmac, then jotted a few further notes onto the paper... For a few moments she stared at the Buzzard's fuselage, then placed her hand on a section of its still intact fabric skin. The tactile feel of rough canvas was intriguing, further giving the illusion that the aircraft might've been alive. Sometimes Orzel suspected she could relate better with machinery than she could actual people... With another sigh the girl shook her head, she was allowing her mind to wander when there was work to be done, and despite the rising sun in the distance, the temperature remained at an uncomfortable thirty-five degrees.

She was fortunate to discover a crate of uniforms among the items abandoned in the barracks portion of Maksym Field, including a stash of High Altitude flight suits. Essentially they were black leather coveralls, lined with brown fur. Orzel found them to be both functional and comfortable, especially seeing as they had an abundance of pockets. She'd also donned a black leather bomber jacket, the fur lined collar of which provided her neck some much needed protection against a strong early Winter breeze. There were no gloves of a proper size, so her hands had become more or less numb from the cold, but between the suit, the jacket, and her headscarf this was perhaps the most comfortable she'd been outside since the start of Autumn.

Casting one final glance at the Buzzard, Orzel tucked her clipboard and pen into a pocket on her leg, then started walking away. She had other areas of the facility to examine... Whistling sharply, the girl held her hand out to the side as her broomstick emerged from behind one of the revetments. She snatched Piorun out of the air and climbed aboard, riding it 'side-saddle' away from the revetments.

Orzel scooted along just a few feet above the ground, passing the aircraft hangars and control tower, then a smaller fenced in area, marked with a few small pre-frabricated buildings and assorted vehicles. A sign affixed beside the lowered bar-gate identified it as the 'Motorpool', an area she'd already taken inventory of. She'd counted twenty-four five-ton supply trucks, fifteen quarter-ton general purpose vehicles, three of which had been converted to ambulances, five refueling vehicles , five firetrucks, and the two outdated landships... All of the vehicles were in at least some state of disrepair, mostly dry rotted seals and tires, but from Orzel's examination she suspected at least ninety percent of the collected vehicles could be restored to a useable state.

With the exception of the red firetrucks, all were painted some variation of olive drab. Like the Buzzards, the paint was faded with age and rust. The landships in particular were heavily encrusted and streaked with hues of red and orange. Their roofs had also hastily been marked with big red bulls-eyes, further evidence of their original purpose as targets. The bulls-eyes were barely visible now, having been applied with a particularly cheap brand of paint. Once again, Orzel felt that odd sensation of connection to the abandoned implacable war machines. As she'd done so many times before, she could only imagine what might've happened had the Empire possessed just two of those landships in Cesarski...

She had to remind herself that it was her rumination on that question that'd prompted her purchase of the facility in the first place. The work she would do there would be conducted as if the survival of everyone she loved hinged on her inventions, whatever shape those inventions might take... It took her a few minutes of gliding along on her broomstick before she arrived at the 'Arsenal' portion of Maksym Field, situated at the eastern side of the expansive complex. It was here Orzel expected to find the bulk of her workshop equipment.

Workbenches, mills, lathes, grinders, welders, cutting torches, gas forges, power hammers, hydraulic presses, and boundless piles of other machining tools. Lexicos willing, they would soon be put back to work for the better defense of Equestria. Not only in the creation of new pieces of kit, but in the development of methods to produce those new wonders, to take advantage of Equestria's immense industrial base... After all, Orzel could make the best bulletproof vest in the world, but it wouldn't be of much use if each vest had to be made by hand... It was a facet of inventing she hadn't really thought about until she'd started delving deeper into her research of Defense Technologies field.

The Arsenal itself was comprised of half a dozen long, narrow, two story concrete buildings, which sat adjacent to an absolutely massive factory. The windows were still intact, though some were obscured by dead vines of ivy that'd crept up the red brick exterior. Two massive smokestacks cast dark shadows across the brown grass, while a section of paved asphalt snaked off into what, from above, might've looked like an hilly grass field. At ground level, however, it was easy to identify more than a dozen half buried domes, covered almost entirely in grass. Each was separated from the others by a factor of fifty yards, and all possessed a flat concrete face, inset with heavy steel blast doors.

These were munition magazines, and it was in them Orzel was told she could find the majority of the 'Miscellaneous Equipment'. She'd need to examine their contents later, but didn't feel all that rushed. Unlike the vehicles, they were far better protected from the elements. The road itself ran off to join the main thoroughfare of the base, leading off to northern area comprised of half a dozen pre-fabricated barracks and a dozen small identical homes, which were in turn situated near the base's front gate. It was the first section she'd thoroughly explored on her own, where she'd discovered the crate of flight suits and jackets. Orzel brought her attention back to the factory, which loomed above her in eerie silence. She skirted along its outskirts, until finally she arrived at the factory's main entrance.

The lights inside were already on, and Orzel quickly spotted both Grim and Fable standing outside the front door. To her surprise, both of them had forgone their suits for a pair of combat fatigues. Both of them were armed with large anti-tank rifles, though they looked of normal size in the hands of the two behemoths. The rest of her sizable and heavily armed security detail was currently in the process of patrolling the surrounding area, though some utilized metal detectors, likely searching for any unexploded ordnance that might've been left buried following the base's abandonment...

The Princess brought Piorun to a stop in front of her bodyguards, then hopped off and snatched the broom from the air. Both men nodded in acknowledgment of her presence, but as per usual chose not to speak. Orzel nodded in return, carrying the broom with her in through the front door. This was the first time she'd actually gone inside, and what she found within thrilled her mechanical mind for all it was worth. Great steel support pillars rose from floor to ceiling, the entire space illuminated by faintly glowing electronic light bulbs and the clusters of square windows that ran along the length of the entire building. Dozens of heavy machines of differing sorts, each a sturdy testament to the power of Equestrian industry.

Multiple small rooms lined the walls, mostly filled with grinders and other specialized tools. A sizable gantry crane loomed directly overhead, with dozens of catwalks crisscrossing beside its tracks. Dozens steam and compressed air pipes snaked above, alongside a series of still belt drives. While most of the pipes were out of use, she none the less spotted a few pipe joints where steam was leaking... Likely from the boiler currently in use to provide electricity. Like the windows, the pipes, drives, and gantry ran all along the lengthy of the impressive structure. The portion of most immediate intrigue was a large office, constructed on an elevated platform, with windows that would allow its occupant to look out onto the factory floor. Orzel withdrew the clipboard and pen from her pocket, then ascended a set of steep metal steps that lead up to the office... Her office.

The door had been left slightly ajar, the frosted glass still retaining the name and title of its former occupant. 'Gen. D. Aught'... Which raised an new question... Had this once been the office of a man commonly referred to by many in weapon engineering circles as 'The Father of Firepower'? She'd discovered the name was included at least once in every book she'd read on weapons and armor development thus far. A remarkably talented weapon-smith and eccentric businessman, he'd died four years ago, but not before allegedly burying a quarter of his immense wealth somewhere in the mountainous territory of Evergreen County.

If it was the office of Double Aught, and he'd left behind some paperwork or design plans, it could be a very lucrative find indeed... Not just because copies of his original designs were in high demand by collectors, but because Orzel suspected he worked in very much the same fashion as she did. Orzel always included little notes to herself in the margins whenever she made designs or schematics. Sometimes it was an idea she had at the spur of the moment, others it was some fundamental design change she might want to implement in the future. If Double Aught had a similar manner of working, the Princess could very well have the opportunity to read from his notes, and incorporate them into her own designs when she was finally allowed to begin designing weapons.

Orzel wasted no further time in opening the door, the hinges squeaking loudly as it swung inwards... Within she found numerous filing cabinets, a large mahogany desk, and a tall tufted executive's leather chair which sat behind it. Orzel appreciated that whomever had last used the office took the time to straighten everything up, and though she saw a fair bit of dust on everything, it was nothing a little magic couldn't take care of. Approaching the desk, Orzel examined the fixtures that'd been left upon it. A green desk lamp, an empty ceramic ashtray, a trio of neatly aligned fountain pens, an old telephone, and a polished wooden humidor.

Immediately she recognized a series of runes scribed onto the humidor's side. If she was reading them correctly, and she was reading them correctly, they would have the effect of preserving a constant level of humidity and temperature within... Runes of such intricacy were particularly difficult to master, as they were deceptively small and required exceptional vision. Odds were this humidor would be worth upwards of one-thousand Bits on its own. If it'd been owned by Double Aught, she could expect that number to double.... Of course, that was contingent on whether or not she decided to sell it. While at present she had no use for such an item used as originally intended, it was nonetheless an object that could maintain consistent temperature and humidity. Much like an air conditioning unit, it might prove useful in maintaining the sterility of her research... Of course, if the need arose to 'butter up' someone in the political scene, odds were she could give it as a gift.

The most important aspect of the humidor wasn't in the box itself, it was on top of it. Orzel noted a set of fingerprints had disturbed the dust, and judging by the fact they hadn't been filled in with more dust, it'd been quite recently. Glancing at the rough wooden floor, she could likewise see a man's footprints in the grime. Lifting the lid, Orzel was slightly disappointed to find it empty... While she didn't care for cigarettes, she couldn't deny that the smell of a cigar had slowly gained an oddly aromatic appeal, much like frankincense and sage... Not that she'd ever dream of smoking one, in fact, Orzel was most certain her Mother would kill her if she ever so much as looked at a cigar.

The girl recalled quite well what'd happened after she and Mother arrived home on Nightmare Night, when Mother managed to detect a whiff of smoke on Piercing Gaze's breath. What'd followed had been a fit of anger the likes of which Orzel wouldn't have thought possible for anyone but a dragon. To the girl's bewilderment, Piercing offered little in the way of his own defense, only insisting that he'd explain himself later...

Setting the clipboard on the desk, the girl mumbled a short incantation. A puff of emerald green vapor suddenly manifested. Quickly taking on the form of a butterfly, it fluttered through the room. Each beat of its wings blew dust from the tops every surface into the air, then forced the cloud of swirling particulates down onto the floor. Speaking another incantation produced a spectral dustpan on the floor. Simple spoken magic had become so much easier with continuing practice, to a point she wondered how she ever got along without it. She wished that wasn't the only thing to have gotten easier...

She'd been losing quite a lot of sleep lately. It wasn't just over the start of her new business, nor was it due to her ongoing preparations for 'Operation: Firewatch', it wasn't even the Admiralty this time. Something else was wrong, and no one was telling her precisely what it was. Letting go of her broom, the Princess allowed it to begin sweeping the dust on the floor into the pan, then took a seat at the desk. She recalled how Piercing and Mother had gone off to talk about things after the tirade.

Mother hadn't been the same since then, though she tried to act as if she was, to very little effect. In the weeks since Nightmare Night, Orzel noticed that Mother would poke her head into the girl's tower every couple hours, just to 'say hello'. What was more, she'd doubled Orzel's security contingent, then tripled it... At first, the girl thought it might be in response to her visit with Spike. Mother obviously wasn't happy with the idea of Orzel going to see a boy regularly, as had become the case following her first session of Ogres and Oubliettes, but that theory failed to account for other, more noticeable, changes.

The Royal Guard now patrolled the castle grounds in fully modern combat gear, and were equipped with rifles and shotguns, as opposed to the typical ceremonial armor and swords. More startlingly, those typically unarmed guards that monitored Front Gate admissions were being issued pistols, and had been assigned specially trained 'Sniffer Dogs'... Most shocking of all was an adjustment to the Castle Garrison's standing orders, which Orzel only learned about because they were posted on a bulletin board in the hallway leading to her tower. Any intruders were to be detained as potentially hostile agents, and on its own that wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that the guards were now authorized to use lethal force if necessary. These outward facing changes hadn't gone unnoticed by the public either, with many complaining how they missed the old uniforms and sword pageantry. All requests to Aunt Celestia for comment, even those posed by Orzel herself, had been met with uncharacteristic vague non-answers.

All of it told Orzel that there was a crisis afoot, and once again she was frustratingly being left out of the loop. The worst part of it was that, as it was a matter of National Security, she had no one to discuss that frustration with... Not even Doctor Scratch or Spike, as neither of them had sufficient security clearance. Speaking of Spike, the Princess gazed briefly in the vague direction of Ponyville, wishing desperately that she could recall Nightmare Night as a wholly positive experience... It was difficult, as she was quite certain that was when the threat to Equestria had likely emerged.

Orzel at least remembered her first session of the game 'Ogres and Oubliettes' quite fondly, if nothing else. It'd been an enjoyable experience, especially the 'encounter' between the adventuring party and some deceptively colored timber wolves of the literal variety. The tactics she'd learned playing Kriegsplan and Chess needed minor adaptation for small unit combat, but they party had thankfully emerged victorious. The Princess had been even happier to be invited back for continuing games, both because she liked the game, and because it'd given her another excuse to visit Spike.

Those games she'd since attended were just as fun, and Orzel was gradually coming to know the rest of the game group as well... Not as well as Spike, of course, but the group calling themselves the 'Cutie-Mark Crusaders' still seemed like nice enough girls. Some of them were actually quite pretty, not that Orzel cared to notice or anything...

Still, it seemed that once more fate conspired to ruin any speck of happiness she might gain, saddling her once again with the ever infuriating specter of dread that came from the unknown. Looking at the clipboard, Orzel found it difficult to will herself to rise from the seat and continue her work. She needed to just decompress, maybe taking a few minutes to meditate and pray for guidance would help...

Closing her eyes, the Princess did her best to relax in the seat, breathing deeply in through her nose and out through her mouth. She pictured the very ground beneath her as her hoard, her newest acquisition, and that made it all the easier to slip into a deeper state of meditation. It was further helped by her quietly reciting a Lexican prayer, which focused her thoughts away from the negativity that'd clouded her mind of late...

Through a clarified mental lens, the Princess slowly came to accept that for the moment she could do nothing about the problem if she didn't know about it, and as such there was little reason to waste time and energy worrying. The factory was the more important concern at present, as it was still far from being ready for active use... All she could do now was continue taking inventory, so she could repair what needed repairing, so she could begin developing her designs and grow her business. In this instance, slow and steady would win the race. Patience... She just needed to have a little patience...

Eventually Orzel's meditative thoughts turned the positive things that might come about that day. Today was Spike's birthday, and she'd been invited to his party later that afternoon. It was fortunate she had the cold air to blame for the flush of her cheeks, as even the thought of seeing him again filled her with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. They'd talked and written to one another countless times over the past few days, and each time Orzel found herself liking him as more than a friend... She'd since discovered that for all his desire to remain undecided on issues of politics, he was a surprisingly patriotic fellow.

His latest letter indicated his intention to ask for his Mother's permission to join the Navy, and... Orzel honestly wasn't sure how she felt about that. As the heroic sort, it naturally made sense that he'd want to go off to serve his country. Were he anyone else, Orzel wouldn't have voiced any doubts, but... While she hadn't been to war as a soldier, she she was no less intimately familiar with what it looked like. The odds were that he'd never see such things as she'd seen, and that he would come home safe and sound, but... Orzel dreaded the thought that one day she might be forced to order Spike into battle, and that, Lexicos forbid it, such an order might ultimately lead to his death. Deep down, the Princess knew that she absolutely would give such an order. Such a loss would undoubtedly destroy her, but if it was between her happiness and Equestria's safety, she could do nothing else... It was her duty...

Orzel also understood that were this the Empire, Spike would have already joined the Navy. He'd have been taken on when he turned thirteen, either as a midshipman or a powder handler. Regardless, in the end Orzel supposed it was Spike's decision. If he wanted to answer the call of duty, if he wanted to risk his life for the protection of others, then such an act was most certainly a noble one... Orzel's thoughts turned to the costume Spike chose for Nightmare Night, which despite his young age, nonetheless looked quite dashing on him. In her view, it was a look most befitting a noble heroic soul... He would certainly make a handsome sailor, if nothing else, not that she'd ever dare to admit such a thing...

The girl frowned, sighing once again as she struggled to maintain her state of meditation. It didn't matter how handsome Spike was, nor did it matter how much she'd come to enjoy speaking with him... Though concealed beneath her headscarf, her horns had only grown more pronounced in just the few short weeks since their emergence. What interest would Spike ever have in someone like her, especially with normal looking girls like the CMC? Even in Equestria, even with the gift of sight, she'd once again been rendered defective... It was next to impossible to reasonably hide the horns now, or the patches of scales that occasionally sprouted up wherever she least expected them, or her continually growing and shifting muscle mass.

She might not have feared growing into her 'dragon self', but she certainly didn't care for the freak-show it was turning her into either. For a few moments, just a couple seconds really, she felt the cruel hand of Agent Zhelezo grabbing the back of her skull, his nails digging into her scalp. She heard him in her mind, imagined him seeing what she'd become now... A freak... A weird, worthless, insignificant, frumpy, brutish, ugly, defective freak...

The sudden rush of worthlessness was abruptly halted by the arrival of a new presence in Orzel's thoughts... In the darkness of her mind's eye, she saw the black hooded figure that she'd never been able to identify, looming silently in the void, staring at her with an unspoken intensity. Orzel mentally stepped closer to the figure, her eyes gazing up into the luminous golden orbs, searching for any sort of meaning... The hooded woman merely gazed back, then, with surprising suddenness, she reached out and grabbed Orzel by the shoulder. With her other hand she pointed off into the darkness, silently directing Orzel's attention to an orb of light...

For a moment Orzel hesitated to try and approach it, fearing that at any moment someone in the waking world might break her concentration. Every time she attempted to approach something new, there was always some matter that needed attending to, some problem that needed her resolution. She felt the hooded figure pushing her forward, urging her along... What was the harm in at least trying? With hesitant optimism, Orzel reached out into her mind... She paused for a moment, then finally grasped the orb.

In an instant she was confronted by hundreds of rushing visions, each flooding past faster than she could properly process individually. Taken in together, however, she steadily came to see a common theme... Her constant doubt of herself, her anxiety and constant fear of failure, her self-loathing... The terror that consumed her whenever she contemplated what might happen if she ever lost control of herself again. Yet there were other images that progressively overwrote these thoughts, visions of her learning and growing stronger... Physically, mentally, personally.

Some of it had come about as part of her dragon biology, some of it was the result of the lessons she'd been taught in this world and the last, but through it all... Orzel realized that she was the one that'd been the one pushing forward, she'd been the one doing the work, putting in the effort, pouring herself into everything she did... She could've shut down entirely, and though many times she nearly came close to losing her way, she hadn't... Constantly she affirmed to herself that she was in control, that her will was one of iron, but... Iron was brittle, it would shatter like glass if struck violently enough... Surely she would've broken by now, were that the case?

The visions changed abruptly to ones she recognized from her life before Equestria... To a time when she couldn't read, when every lesson had been a struggle. She heard Sokol's voice, and that of her Father, urging her on. She'd always thought that insistence was the result of them giving up on her having any real future, but... What if there was more to it? What if her parents been like Luna all along, and she'd never realized it? Much as Orzel loved Luna, the woman hadn't been the one to raise her, where else could her drive have come from other than her parents...? Suddenly the girl felt compelled to look at the hooded woman, illuminated now by the flickering light of the orb. In the gloomy recess of that hood, Orzel saw for the first time a glimpse of the face that possessed those wide golden eyes. So very very familiar. So very much like her own, and yet... So very different.

Orzel was transported back to the Factory office as her eyes abruptly snapped open, driven back to the cold reality of the waking world by the shock of what she'd just seen. Though she felt far more centered now, she was nonetheless panting heavily, her chest heaving up and down... Every breath sent forth a cloud of steam into the frigid air, and it took a few moments of concentrated effort to bring her breathing back to a state of normalcy. Had Orzel just seen who she thought she saw...? Was it a result of her active thoughts at the time, or was it something more...? The matter was best saved for Doctor Scratch, or perhaps Seeker Topaz... She wasn't quite sure which as of yet. There were more immediate matters to attend to, however.

Rubbing at her eyes, the Princess took note that she was no longer alone in the room. Midnight sat perched atop the humidor, but the more pressing arrival was a stocky fellow wearing a wool peacoat and knitted cap... Piercing Gaze loomed silently in the doorway, though how long he'd been standing there Orzel couldn't rightly say. He held in his hand a clipboard much like Orzel's, which appeared to be completely filled in... Good. The girl also noticed a smoldering cigar between his lips, which gave her some idea as to where the contents of the humidor might've gone. Obviously, Mother's tirade hadn't been enough to dissuade the man picking up the habit.

"I've finished going over the inventory in the out-buildings and the production floor, everything seems to be here." The man stated, offering the clipboard to Orzel for inspection. He adjusted his glasses, rubbing at his eyes in slight agitation, the dust from the self-sweeping broom evidently causing some discomfort. "I hope I didn't interrupt something." He added, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

"No... No, I was just meditating." Orzel assured him, sighing through her nose as her eyes danced across the paper. Every piece of equipment she'd been promised in the production facilities was, indeed, present. Dozens of heavy machines, hundreds of smaller hand-tools, everything was right where it needed to be... "You managed to account for all of this so quickly?" The Princess asked skeptically, resting the clipboard on the desk... Her desk. The man nodded simply. "How?" The stocky fellow took his hand from his pocket and snapped his fingers, emitting a small spark of white magic.

"I'm a wizard, need I say more?" Piercing exclaimed confidently, Orzel narrowed her eyes for a moment, but ultimately conceded to that point. She preferred to do things by eye, but Piercing possessed higher skill than her when it came to general magic, so she had to trust that he'd known what he was doing. "So that's everything done here, then... What next?" Orzel hummed as she rose from her seat, quietly approaching one of the filing cabinets and pulling it open. The drawer squealed as it came back, revealing it to be filled with various folders, each pertaining to different matters of varying importance.

Given her abilities she suspected it'd take her less than two hours to completely go through every file in the room. It would be a fun challenge, something she found herself looking forward to, which is precisely why she closed the drawer for the time being. There was still a lot of boring work that needed doing, and she could use the files as a means of treating herself for accomplishing all the other tasks. Straightening the hem of her jacket, Orzel once more grabbed her clipboard from the desk.

"Now I want to examine the contents of the munitions bunkers." Orzel stated in Szafirian, Piercing took a few moments to parse out what she'd said. It was less time than he'd needed before, odds were he'd been practicing with Luna. He took a puff on his cigar and stepped out of the doorway, allowing Orzel to exit and start down the steps. Together the two of them descended to the factory floor, then carried on out the front door, back into the frigid winter air. The sky was darkening with clouds now, a slate gray overcast that was slowly rolling in from the North...

"This job much walking... Much much difficult." Piercing stated simply, walking along beside her as they slowly made their way towards the storage bunkers. Orzel would've taken Piorun, but it was still sweeping up her office, and she wasn't about to ride ahead while the person she was supposed to tutor had to walk.

"Indeed... Now, let us address what you said." Orzel tucked the clipboard back into its assigned pants pocket, then putting her hands into her jacket pockets for warmth. "Repeat after me. This job requires a lot of walking." Orzel stated slowly, listening as Piercing slowly recited the phrase back to her. "It is very difficult." Once again the man repeated her. "This job requires a lot of walking, it is very difficult." Combining the two took a couple tries, but in the end... Acceptable.

"Much better, Mister Gaze." The two of them began walking down the asphalt, further and further away from the factory, away from the potentially prying ears of Grim and Fable. "You know what else is difficult?" Orzel started pointedly. "Designing equipment without knowing what said equipment might face..." Piercing glanced over, cringing slightly at the implication. "I am blind, I am not stupid. Everyone has said nothing is amiss, but you and I are smart enough to know that is a lie." The man took a long puff on his cigar, then exhaled the cloud of smoke to be carried away on the wind.

"It is not really something I can discuss with you." The man responded after a few tense moments of silence, judging by the slowness with which he spoke he was trying exceptionally hard to speak as fluently as possible, and with good success. Orzel just wished he'd used his new found skill to tell her what she wanted to hear. He lapsed into silence for a moment, then rubbed at his chin. "May I ask, what is your thought on why you are here?" Orzel turned to look at him with incredulity. "I mean, do you ever feel you have higher purpose? Beyond being Princess?" The Princess stared at him for a few moments, then shook her head and went back to looking ahead.

"Why I am here is none of your concern, Mister Gaze. I serve the Equestrian people and the motherland, there is no higher purpose." The girl stated bluntly, taking a few steps to put some further distance between herself and the odd man as they drew nearer to the first bunker. "In the interest of better serving the motherland, I will rephrase my question. What caliber weapons should I expect my armor to face? Griffon? Abyssinian? Minotaur...? Our own?" Piercing took another puff on his cigar, which by now had grown a long extension of gray ash at its front.

"I honestly cannot say." Piercing started, holding up a hand before Orzel could counter. "But... Hypothetically... Are you familiar with the controversial broadcast of 'The Clash of the Planets' a few weeks ago?" As a matter of fact, it was something that'd drawn Orzel's particular interest, primarily as it pertained to some of her planning for Operation Firewatch, which she intended to pitch to Luna very shortly.

The broadcast in question was a re-imagining a very popular science fiction novel, and Orzel had to admit that upon listening to a recording of it she actually found the work of Mister Ocean Swells to be of top quality... Perhaps that was the problem. Many people had neglected to listen to the beginning of the broadcast, which made ample declaration that the scenes about to unfold were of a wholly fictitious nature. Those that'd missed this key announcement had arrived as a supposed news announcer described an alien invasion of Equestria in remarkable realism.

Using real place names, and official sounding titles, had contributed to the sense of reality, and an estimated one million Equestrians had panicked as a result. Farmers in some rural communities gathered together with shotguns and hunting rifles, preparing to do battle with the alien menace, while an unfortunate coincidental power outage in Applewood plunged most of that city into chaos, followed by widespread looting... The National Council hearings were still ongoing, but as far as Orzel could reckon Mister Swells hadn't violated any existing legislation, so she doubted he'd face legal backlash.

What'd drawn Orzel's attention most of all was how effective the radio had proven in informing the masses, even if that information had been interpreted in the improper context. She would've liked to have heard the broadcast as it happened for herself, but seeing as she was occupied with a session of Ogres and Oubliettes at the time, it just hadn't been in the cards. What it had to do with the unknown threat that everyone in her family seemed to know about but her was a mystery, unless...?

"Are you implying Equestria is at imminent risk of alien invasion?" Orzel asked with further stoic incredulity, but that quickly turned to genuine concern when Piercing failed to quickly deny her suggestion. "By Lexicos, you are." The man took the cigar from his lips and emphatically shook his head.

"No, not aliens! This is just a hypothetical, remember?" He insisted, tapping the ashes loose from his cigar and replacing it between his lips. "Forget armor for a moment. Let us say, for sake of argument that, Equestria came under surprise attack right now, from an army that could move with remarkable stealth and speed. Do you think our military alone would be able to hold the enemy off?" Orzel shook her head, earning a nod from the man. "I do not suppose you have a plan to change that state of affairs locked away somewhere?" The girl pondered the question, debating on whether this was the proper time to unveil Firewatch... She supposed that it wouldn't hurt to pitch it to Piercing, his approval would certainly make it an easier sell to Mother and Aunt Celestia.

"I might, Mister Gaze... I might." The Princess hedged as the two of them approached the first bunker. "Let us complete our inventory first, then I may be persuaded to give you further details." The pair stopped before the large blast doors, staring up at the rusty metal surfaces, labeled with a faded '01'. Orzel spotted a control panel beside it, its face likewise battered by the elements, but otherwise intact.

Stepping up to the control panel, Orzel flicked several switches, then mashed her thumb down on a large green button. A pair of rotating yellow lights mounted above the doors started up, followed shortly thereafter by a loud buzzing alarm from a loudspeaker mounted on the concrete face. Numerous sounds of pressurizing seals and thunderous clunks arose from within, and a great burst of air was eagerly sucked in as both doors gradually slid back. According to the Army, these bunkers could be vacuum sealed both for the better preservation of materials inside and the prevention of an accidental fire. Considering the bunker was intended to hold munitions of varying types, fire was most certainly a very bad thing.

The alarm's continued its cry as Orzel stepped back beside Piercing Gaze, both watching the doors withdraw to reveal... Darkness. Only when the doors were fully open did the alarm stop, and a few moments later came the first sign of light. Large electronic light bulbs, protected by glass domes and cages on the ceiling, cascaded to life. One after another, Thud... thud... Thud... On and on. Both the Princess's and Piercing's jaws fell slack as the contents of the bunker were revealed to them for the first time, if Orzel had to pick one word to describe the sight, it would've been 'staggering'.

Hundreds of wooden crates, stacked five across and six high, extended along the walls of the five-thousand square foot space. Each displayed the emblem of the Army Ordnance Bureau, and were labeled as '500 Cartridges: Caliber 30 in Cartons', followed by their weight, lot number, and whether they were 'Ball', 'Tracer', 'AP', or 'API'. The sheer amount of ammunition wasn't what'd taken Orzel's attention, no, that fell to the various racks of perfectly pristine, virtually factory new firearms... Hundreds of them, all evenly lined up one after the other, which for the past five years had apparently sat undisturbed, or distributed, in a silent tomb of concrete and steel.

Most were bolt-action rifles, others were 'AARs' or 'Aught Automatic Rifles', named for their designer, Double Aught... The standard bolt-action rifle of the Equestrian military was, as with most things in the Equestrian military, a slightly dated design. Though accurate and lethal at long ranges, they were said to be quite heavy, slow to fire, and reportedly kicked like a mule... That was all well and good for the battlefields of yesterday, but it was fast becoming apparent that speed and maneuverability would reduce the standard engagement range considerably. At closer ranges, it was believed, that Caliber 30 would penetrate an enemy soldier with considerably more energy, and thus would travel through their body without doing as much damage as it would at a longer range.

Numerous attempts had been made to update to a semi-automatic or even fully automatic weapon, with limited success. The AAR, for example, made use of the same Caliber 30 ammunition. It'd seen only limited adoption in recent years, primarily due to bureaucratic resistance and other political factors. There were some campaigning to transition to a rifle that fired a smaller 'intermediate cartridge'. The primary argument against that movement was on full display before Orzel's very eyes, abundance and logistics. It was cheaper and easier to supply an Army with arms and ammunition it already had, rather than begin mass production of new equipment.

The Army had produced so many of the rifles and so much ammunition that, evidently, it couldn't keep track of them all... Orzel's ruminations on the finer points of infantry armaments aside, the sight that lay before her had caused her jaw to drop not out of awe at so many weapons, but rather at the realization that as of that instant any other work on the facility would have to be brought to a halt. This... Was a very serious problem. Running some quick math in her head, Orzel deduced there to be approximately two-hundred rifles of assorted types on one side of the racks. Two sides per rack, multiplied by five rows of three... Six-thousand rifles, and... She paused briefly to examine the boxes of ammunition... Her lowest estimation she came to was three-million rounds of various types of ammunition.

Each bolt-action rifle cost approximately twenty-eight Bits, failing to account for the AARs. Orzel estimated the cost of the equipment before at nearly two-hundred-thousand Bits of taxpayer money, plus a further ninety-thousand Bits in terms of ammunition, assuming an average cost of point-zero-three Bits per round... Nearly three-hundred-thousand Bits, that was the lowest approximate cost Orzel could conservatively reach, though she was certain the actual price was much, much higher... There was three-hundred-thousand Bits worth of equipment in just this storage bunker alone, she had no idea if other bunkers contained similar forgotten arsenals.

The trucks, surplus uniforms, and other pieces of abandoned equipment Orzel could forgive, but to leave so many perfectly functional weapons abandoned without any record of their being here in the first place...? Not only was it a gross misuse of governmental funds, it was also an exceptionally massive security concern. Prior to its acquisition by BDT, Maksym Field had been just one of dozens of other decommissioned military bases that'd been abandoned and put up for sale. How many other forgotten caches of weapons and ammunition were out there, just waiting for someone to come and use them against Equestria? At best it was just rifles, but what if there were artillery pieces, or mortars, or other more dangerous pieces of kit just floating out there...?

"Mister Gaze..." Orzel stated bluntly, swapping to Equestrian. "Is the telephone line in my office functional?" She glanced over at Piercing, who was still staring in silence at the arsenal before them. "Mister Gaze." The girl repeated more vocally, shaking the man from his stupor.

"Erm, uh... Yes, I believe it is." He stated simply, then quickly took the cigar from his lips. Considering they were standing within feet of enough ammunition to level the bunker, he made the wise decision of dropping it to the ground and crushing it under his boot.

"Good... I want you to begin taking inventory of this bunker and the others, do not do so by magic, count each rifle and crate by hand." Orzel commanded sternly, clasping her hands behind her back. "I want an accurate count of how many weapons and rounds of ammunition the company is now in possession of. I, meanwhile, will return to my office and inform the Crown of what we have discovered here. We must have other similar facilities checked accordingly." Piercing nodded for a moment, then looked at her, incredulous.

"The Company...?" He asked, Orzel nodded faintly. "You can't honestly think your Mother is going to allow you to keep all of these, do you?" Orzel shook her head simply, sighing through her nose.

"I have no intention of keeping all of them, Mister Gaze." She stated succinctly. "I am attempting to start a business, after all. BDT will retain some of them for the purposes of testing my armor and other projects, as Mother agreed, but the vast majority will be sold." The girl turned her attention to one of the other nearby storage bunkers. "That is for a later time... For now, I must ensure that no further breaches of security are allowed to persist. Now, do get to work, I would hate to have to fire you on your first day..." She added simply, Piercing just stared at her, utterly gobsmacked. "The last part was a joke..."

Without another word the Princess turned and started back towards the factory, leaving Piercing to go about his work. This had to be it, this had to be the event that forced Celestia to take action against the inefficiencies of the military as a whole. Were it up to Orzel, anyone remotely responsible for allowing so many thousands of Bits worth of military equipment to be misplaced in such a manner would be immediately relieved of duty and court-martialed... Of course, there was a part of Orzel that doubted much of anything would come about as a result of the discovery... Celestia was far too forgiving...

The Princess pondered Piercing's statement about Mother, how she wouldn't allow Orzel to keep them. The thing was that these weapons were held in the name of BDT, not Orzel herself, which would make confiscating the weapons a tad difficult... Legally speaking. Even if that wasn't the case, Orzel found herself strongly resistant to obey such an order to turn them in, even from her Mother. Part of it was the fact that she considered everything on the base to be part of her hoard, but... The other parts of the issue were political, and, to some extent, personal...

Politically speaking, Orzel was still attempting to consolidate a base of support among the Black Crown party. While her popularity was high at present, she had no illusions about it remaining that way if she didn't adhere to a certain image. The Black Crowns were highly individualistic, liberty minded, and extremely skeptical of the government... A government that in many cases had forced them to fend for themselves through inaction, as was the case with the people of Lone Star. There was no way the debacle wouldn't make the papers, and when it did, they might view Orzel's surrender of the weapons to her Mother as a sign of weakness...

On the personal side of things, the Empire forbade such things as weapon ownership were restricted to a select few, specifically those in the Warrior or Merchant Castes. Even then, the MIS could compel someone to surrender their weapons without cause, under penalty of execution. Once done, there was little recourse to get those weapons back. This was done supposedly to make the Empire safer from dissidents, rebels, and other criminals that might've wanted to undermine the Emperor's 'glorious' rule. Of course, that hadn't stopped dissidents, rebels, and other criminals from still acquiring weapons elsewhere... Because they were, well... Criminals.

Orzel now realized that this policy of keeping the populace disarmed was undertaken not for the safety of the Empire's people, but for the safety of the Empire's leaders... It would be exceedingly difficult for any rebellion to take root if it lacked the arms to sustain a fight for very long. Orzel's father had been called away countless times to deal with rebellions on Imperial island colonies, and nearly every one of them had more or less evaporated as soon as the Imperial Special Landing Forces stormed ashore with vastly superior equipment. Some rebellions, those that took to the hills or jungles and fought as guerillas, still persisted. The Princess could only imagine the sort of headway one of those rebellions might've made, had they access to the thousands of firearms she'd just seen...

As she continued her walk towards the factory, the chill of winter playing upon her exposed skin, it dawned on her once again that she was making excuses for herself... Just as when she'd been considering joining the Lexican Orthodoxy, she was trying to find reasons to justify her actions, when no such justification was required. It was yet another in the long line of realizations about life in Equestria versus the ruthlessly repressive Imperial regime. Equestria's constitution was quite clear, Orzel had every right to own weapons if she so chose, and she didn't need much more reason to keep them other than 'Because I want to'... Mother would undoubtedly disagree, but as with so many of the other freedoms Orzel had come to embrace, this was fast becoming a hill she was ready to die on.

For now, she and Piercing had to determine just how badly the military had done in keeping track of their weapons. The Princess decided that now might also be a good time to unveil Operation: Firewatch, as she could leverage the scandal as a reason to take a closer look at everything the government did regarding emergency preparation. After all, what if it'd been much needed medicine or emergency rations that'd been misplaced? Orzel suspected that Mother and Aunt Celestia would quickly take over the issue, regardless of if they agreed to her plans... For today at least Orzel didn't resent that, as every moment she might spend confronting Generals and Quartermasters was a moment she couldn't spend on her work, or more importantly, her visit to Ponyville that afternoon. What tomorrow might bring, especially how she herself addressed the issue, remained to be seen...

Never in the collective consciousness of Modern Equestria had there been a time when Canterlot Castle's guards wore anything but the antiquated ceremonial armor. Indeed, the month or so since Luna was first made aware of the potential Changeling Menace, a great many centuries' long traditions had seen themselves upended. The public understandably desired answers, but as with so many things, it'd been decided that it was best they not know... Typically the task of deciding what level of honesty the Crown could maintain with its citizens. Not only was lying for the 'greater good' a morally dubious act, getting caught in that lie could damage credibility... It also ran into the problem of officials lying for the 'greater good' when, in actuality, it was to conceal their own incompetence or corruption.

In this instance, however, the decision was reached quite quickly. It was but one of countless dozens, nearly all of which took place within the darkened confines of Canterlot Castle's situation room. Luna had yet to find an answer to the far more cumbersome decision of what to tell Orzel, if she should say anything at all... For now, it seemed best to maintain her daughter's ignorance. Director Orcus referred to the concept by its modern name, 'Plausible Deniability'. In the event other members of the Crown were exposed, the girl's credibility and moral authority would remain more or less unhampered... In the event of a major catastrophe, such political assets would undoubtedly prove vital to the continued survival of Equestria.

There were plenty of other things to occupy Orzel's time, thankfully, else the girl would likely prove a security concern... There were already enough security concerns as is, without adding a particularly nosy and unbelievably persistent neurotic to the mix. Recent failed governmental operations and political happenings had been examined with considerably more scrutiny by the Nocturne Agency. From the 'Decency Demands' made by the Noble Party, to the very foundation of the Black Crown Party that'd come as a result, to the coups and civil unrest in other parts of the world. These examinations were, of course, undertaken with the utmost secrecy.

So far, the Nocturne Agency had determined the Changelings possibly had at least a foothold in the Noble Party and unaligned councilors, though it remained to be seen if the same could be said of the Black Crowns. The prospects for the other nations of the world were far less uncertain, as the Agency now suspected Changeling involvement in half a dozen Zebrican Coups and the rapid destabilizing situation in the Griffon Empire, as well as other states inhabiting West Parthenia... These conclusions only demonstrated that there might be Changeling Hives on numerous contents, and provided little aid in the search for threats on the domestic front.

First and foremost they'd performed an audit of the comings and goings of all high ranking officers, going back over a decade. It'd been carried out under the guise of seeking a new Field Marshal to head a theoretical 'Air Force'... The Nocturne Agency failed to uncover any Changeling infiltrators, and had cleared a small contingent of senior military officers, advisers, and Nocturne agents to be brought up to speed. They'd yet to decide on a name for this new secretive committee, but unofficially it was being referred to as 'Shadow Command' or the 'Shadow Committee', both of which had swiftly been stylized to S-COM.

Following the first formal meeting of S-COM nearly a month ago, the new committee began a slow and arduous process of determining the best means of rooting out Changelings in the lower ranks, focusing on weeding out potential spies or saboteurs in the vital roles of supply, communications, and field aid. The audit of senior staff was easy enough to keep under wraps, the same couldn't be said for thousands of supply officers, company clerks, quartermasters, signalmen, message runners, cryptographers, medics, doctors, and even provisioners and cooks... Indeed, there were some agents that feared Changeling infiltrators might easily render entire battalions immobile, either through the introduction of poisons, biological weapons, or even hallucinogens to a the food.

So, Director Orcus came up with a plan to fabricate a reason for an examination of the entire military logistical chain, link by link, document by document, requisition form by requisition form. For the relatively cheap cost of three-million Bits worth of surplus equipment, the Director's agents had either planted or destroyed existing records of entire division's worth of arms and munitions on a series of abandoned military bases. One of them, conveniently, had been in the process of changing hands to a civilian buyer... Basilisk Defense Technologies.

Everyone in S-COM knew there was nothing convenient about it. The guns had always been there, no one had ever lost track of them... At least, no one in the Agency. The weapons were intentionally left sitting there, waiting for a rainy day, when the Agency might need to supply some of less reputable associates with arms in exchange for information or even ancient artifacts. The destruction of all records of the weapons had been extensive, and it'd taken a month or so to ensure that no loose ends could potentially trace the weapons back to anyone... For all intents and purposes, at least from a paperwork standpoint, the weapons had just popped into existence.

From there it was only a matter of time before, surprise surprise, a certain Princess discovered that the 'Army' had 'misplaced' a great number of 'its' guns. In 'response', other 'searches' of 'abandoned' bases would yield 'discoveries' of other 'misplaced' weapons, thus opening up the entire logistical corps to extreme scrutiny. This would allow the search for Changeling infiltrators to commence under a believable ruse of finding any out just what other equipment the military had 'lost'. It'd also force the door open for much a needed change to the military's typical standard operating procedures, the rethinking of which were deemed of utmost priority if Equestria was to prepare to face the Changeling menace...

While very few people realized it, Luna was fast coming to understand that they were living in a new world... A world were things that'd been thought perfectly reasonable in the past would now be viewed with scrutiny, where the security taken for granted by so many was placed at risk. Moreover, she wasn't entirely sure if she or Celestia were equipped to handle such a world... The decision to 'misplace' so much valuable equipment to create pretense for what otherwise might be viewed as a 'witch hunt' rankled both Princesses' sensibilities of honesty and fair play. That wasn't the only reason Luna disliked the idea, however, far from it.

Though Luna and Celestia had both signed off on what had been dubbed 'Operation Marquis' by S-COM, the idea of Orzel going anywhere near a firearm nonetheless caused much concern for the former... Of course, Piercing Gaze had not only proven instrumental in ensuring the realism of the find, he'd also been there to keep Orzel from getting into trouble. The phone call from her daughter, informing the Princess of the discovery, at least let Luna know for certain that her daughter was safe...

That news was undermined by Orzel's insistence that she intended to keep and eventually sell the guns she'd found, as they were legally her property... Luna had expected it as a likely outcome, she'd just hoped for a different one. Luna had used the month needed to destroy the records as a means of ensuring Orzel's company was legally protected, under the guise of a 'background check' and other obstructive bureaucratic measures. It was the first time Luna could remember actually appreciating the glacial speed so common among Equestria's paper pushers. It was that complex web of redundant departments and agencies that made the loss of so many guns seem probable, after all...

Luna wished that was the end of her concerns over Orzel and guns, but it was anything but. With the emergence of the Changeling Menace, the both Celestia and Luna had been revisiting the topic of the girl's desire to begin weapons development... It had yet to be determined if the existing weapons in service would prove effective against a Changeling raid, though estimations were that the existing rifles and limited number AARs in service were respectively too slow and too heavy for what many believed would be a 'highly mobile battlefield'.

Typically the Crown could've gone to the Canterhorn Mountain Arsenal for a new weapon design, but to do so would be to invite further attention. Through Basilisk Defense Technologies, the Crown had an entire research and manufacturing facility at its disposal, one that very few people outside of the Situation Room were even aware of. They also happened to have someone that was not only willing and able to design those weapons, but actually quite eager as well. Orzel was also someone who wouldn't go running her mouth to the press... On the contrary, the girl would likely go out of her way to never so much as glance in the general direction of a reporter.

Luna wished she could just put an end to the idea entirely, but... She'd seen Orzel's nightmares, she'd seen the brutality that Changelings could inflict upon the human body, upon entire cities, and it terrified her... Granted, Equestria's changelings weren't nearly as bestial, but they weren't cute and cuddly either. That sense of terror wasn't nearly as strong as the fear of Orzel getting hurt in an accident, but it was powerful enough that Luna was actually considering turning her daughter's ever expanding intellect towards the creation of weapons...

By now Luna had come to accept it was likely an inevitable occurrence, even if she still struggled to imagine Orzel in such a way, but now... Now the transition to weapons research might very well be authorized by Luna's own hand. It was made all the more difficult because the Princess had now seen one of the fruits of that intellect, one of the innumerable projects the Orzel was always cooking up. Dubbed 'Operation Firewatch', Orzel had directed Luna to a series of notebooks and sketches stored in her tower. She'd made numerous extensive notes and protocols detailing how it was to be carried out, which both Celestia and Luna reviewed carefully.

Though the plan had been compiled by a relative novice, Operation Firewatch was exceptionally well sourced. The plan made references to several papers written by a Doctor Shiroi Hana, of the Imperial Polytechnic Institute in Tennoshima, an isolated nation in the Luna Ocean, situated at the edge of the known world. The nation was often inundated by earthquakes and monster attacks, both of which required a high level of disaster preparedness. Another source included int he plan was a report by Major General Forthright, formerly of the Lone Star Territorial Garrison, detailing how often it was that the task of defending rural communities from dragon attacks was left to the communities themselves.

This particular report was particularly scathing towards what the General referred to as a 'lack of state and national funding, bordering on criminal negligence'. This report had been met about as well as one might expect, which was to say that Major General Forthright was forced to resign... Consequently, the General had gone on to be a founding member of the Black Crown party, and now served as 'Commander In Chief' of the 'Lone Star Homeguard', the largest and most well equipped private militia in the country.

Suffice to say, despite certain mistakes that were understandable given the author of the operation, the overall plan to test Equestria's disaster readiness was nonetheless a sound one. It was the discussion of Operation Firewatch which ultimately had convened the latest meeting of S-COM in the Situation Room. As per usual, the room's atmosphere was a smokey swirling soup of tobacco smoke. Contributing to this effect, half-shrounded by the shadow of the sharp overhead can lights, Director Orcus listened to the proposal with notable interest.

"It will require a large commitment on the part of the various military branches, which will be difficult to conceal. I am not entirely concerned, as the Operation itself can easily be explained as a maneuvering exercise." Luna stated calmly as she stood before a screen on the wall, upon which she'd projected an outline from Orzel's notes. It'd been a simple spell to accomplish, though the intense blue glare of the glowing orb did somewhat hurt the woman's eyes. "We can use the recent Discord Crisis to justify its implementation, should anyone inquire further..." The woman turned her attention to the image on the screen.

Her daughter's handwriting was characteristically orderly, though as per usual, all of her notes were written in Szafirian, which Luna had needed to translate. The gist of the paper called for a series of extremely realistic simulations, what Orzel termed 'Nightmare Scenarios'. They covered everything from earthquakes and massive forest fires to foreign invasion, a bio-terrorism, and the return of half a dozen powerful villains that'd been officially classed by the Nocturne Agency as 'Neutralized'... Given how many of these defeated villains had made returns of late, however, Orzel referred to them as 'EPDs', or 'Entities Presumed Dormant'. Luna couldn't blame her daughter for making such a distinction.

The most detailed Nightmare Scenarios of all were designated as 'Scenario CI-Alpha' and 'Scenario CI-Bravo', and it was that level of detail that told Luna these particular scenarios were special. Both related directly to the sort of threat Luna was most concerned about, a siege of Canterlot, preceded by covert incursion of agents from the Opposing Force, dubbed simply OPFOR in Orzel's notes. Situated as it was at the top of a mountain, many believed it would be next to impossible for OPFOR to lay siege in a conventional sense, and it was that impossibility that prompted the city's defensive planners to declare Equestria's capital 'nigh impenetrable'...

What stuck out to Luna about CK-Bravo in particular was that Orzel had come at the attack from a wholly unconventional direction, with agents of OPFOR infiltrating below the city. The city sewers had hundreds of access points, not including the thousands of manhole covers that dotted every street, all of which were more or less unsecured. Moving unobserved throughout the city's sewers, OPFOR would be almost entirely undetectable, and able to plant massive explosive charges beneath key strategic structures, from police stations and hospitals to gas stations and communications relays, if not destroying intersections and streets vital to the movement of defensive troops outright.

CK-Alpha was the slightly more outlandish of the two, in which the city was infiltrated initially by one OPFOR Agent. This Agent would commence covert operations within Equestria's government, over the course of years rising in the ranks of a branch of the military or another vital agency, at which point they would be in close enough proximity to strike directly at the Royal Family itself... Following a successful 'Decapitation of Government', the rest of OPFOR's forces would move on the city en masse, taking advantage of the chaos and confusion to seize the city virtually unopposed.

It was CK-Alpha that currently sat on the screen, though civilian casualties for both scenarios were projected by Orzel's calculations numbered in the high hundreds to low thousands, and posited a total loss of Canterlot and its surrounding territories to OPFOR, including the vital transportation hub in Ponyville. The majority of Equestria's military communications ran through Canterlot, and the majority of its troop trains went through Ponyville. Losing either city would be a great blow to Equestria's ability to respond to further threats, losing both would render an immediate counter attack nearly impossible. It would therefore be an excellent test of the military's ability to adapt and improvise, though there were those that remained skeptical...

"Going a head with this large an exercise could be a big mistake." One voice spoke up from across the room, drawing all eyes to the cigar smoking visage of Field Marshal Redwood. "I'm not just talking about the potential for a security leak, I'm talking about how it could effect our existing readiness. We're already getting ready to take a sledgehammer to the logistical corps, don't you think we ought to hold off on wrecking our overall command structure as well? Not to mention funding the creation of this... What was it? A Civil Defense Agency? Yet another agency we'd need to work into an already weakened chain of command."

There were several murmurs of agreement from around the room... Redwood had a point, too much change too quickly might lead to chaos, especially if the Changelings attacked during the restructuring. All existing estimations indicated the Changelings should've attacked somewhere by now, at least, that's what it seemed to be. Something had been causing quite the stir in the hive-mind, after all, what else besides a preparation for an upcoming attack? It could've been hundreds of different things, anything from a particularly vigorous political rally to a birthday party, if the Changelings had either of such things. There was just too much S-COM didn't know...

"How much do you suspect a decapitation of our government would weaken the chain of command, Field Marshal?" Orcus asked coldly, taking a long drag on his cigarette... Luna seldom grew angry with the man for his practice, but his recent introduction of the habit to Piercing certainly hadn't won him any favors. "You've seen the state of things, all of you... When Nightmare Moon darkened our skies, or when Discord returned, where was Equestria's military?" The man leaned forwards in his seat, lacing his fingers together.

"Both times, our response was hampered by a lack of planning. The first was a forgivable oversight, one thousand years of uninterrupted peace, who could blame us?" Orcus continued with deadly seriousness. "The level of damage sustained in the latter incident, however is entirely our fault. We had ample warning Discord would escape, and still our plans were flimsy, all of us, even myself, bear part of that responsibility." The man exhaled a small cloud of smoke from his nose, receding back into the shadows. "Barring a few exceptions, we are dreadfully under prepared. Not just for the Changelings, but a changing world, a shifting balance of power..." The man waved the glowing ember of his cigarette around. "This operation could reveal to us problems that in future might otherwise mean the difference between the continued dominance of Equestria on the global stage and our near total annihilation." There was more murmuring among the room.

"All this discussion is pointless." Celestia spoke up from her seat, taking a surprisingly stern tone. "The decision ultimately falls to the Crown." All eyes turned now to the elder Princess, whose brilliant eyes glinted faintly from the brightness of the projection beam. "Certain changes will need to be made, but the usefulness of Operation Firewatch cannot be ignored. We'll begin as soon as possible." A series of mumbling arose, but gradually transitioned towards silent acceptance. With the matter thoroughly settled, the woman's eyes turned to Orcus. "Director, have you anything new to report regarding the search for the Changeling hive?"

"I'm afraid all I can tell you is where it isn't, your Majesty." Orcus responded apologetically, rising from his seat and moving towards the screen. Luna made her way back to her own chair, allowing the Director to take control of the projection spell. With a faint flickering effect the outline of Scenario CK-Alpha was replaced by a topographical map of the Canterhorn and its surrounding areas. "Fortunately the clean up effort has given us a plausible excuse for our field agents to go poking around, otherwise progress might be much slower..." The man circled the Canterhorn with his finger. "Canterlot itself is free of any hive activity, though I think from now on it might be prudent to maintain a security force in the crystal caverns." He moved his finger to Ponyville. "Ponyville proper likewise shows no sign of a hive, we're now focusing our efforts on the area known as Ghastly Gorge. There are a lot of caves that need to be checked by eye, some of them inhabited by less than friendly wildlife."

The Director went on to describe similar searches beneath numerous major Equestrian cities and other rural areas, though these too yielded little result other than telling the Agency where the hive wasn't. Even so, Luna and Celestia agreed that the news was nonetheless positive. So far Equestria's major cities weren't at risk of being undermined, and now that they knew to be on the lookout, it would be exceptionally difficult for the Changelings to gain a foothold unopposed. These sweeps had unexpectedly yielded the discovery of several ancient artifacts and other anomalous objects of a highly secret nature, all of which were swiftly taken into Agency custody. Luna got the impression there was more to it than that, but... This was neither the time or the place.

"What I would like to begin discussing more in detail is a matter of great importance." Orcus started, having finished his explanation of the ongoing search. "That is the status of our current plan for continuity of government." The man's eyes fell squarely on Luna and Celestia. "As it stands, every member of the Crown currently resides in Canterlot. While the odds of an enemy invasion of the city are unlikely, the odds that they might attempt to replace one of its members, or even outright assassinate them all, is very real." Luna heard a number of affirmative murmurs from the assembled committee.

"I would like to therefore approach the possibility of selecting a 'Designated Survivor', someone whom we would relocate from Canterlot to a more secure location." The man's eyes turned directly to Luna. "I propose that Princess Orzel would be ideal to fill this role. While she has become more active as of late, her presence wouldn't be immediately missed." One could've heard a pin drop in the silence that followed, and it seemed that every man in the room more or less froze completely still, as if fearful moving might draw some sort of retaliation.

"What do you mean 'relocate'?" Luna asked, her tone remaining calm, even as the idea set her mind alight with more worry. "Are you suggesting I send my daughter away...?" Orcus nodded solemnly. "Where would I be sending her?" The Director turned his attention back to the screen, influencing the spell to display a small chain of islands, islands even Luna didn't recognize.

"These are the Illusion Islands, a chain of islands situated in the Luna Ocean, north of the sixtieth parallel. They're part of 'Frontier Province'." Orcus explained calmly, gesturing to what looked to be a remarkably small speck of land at the end of the chain... At the very edge of the known world. "I'd propose relocating the Princess to Naval Weapons Station Snowcone on the Isle of Net Nadezhdy. It's remote, easy to secure, and just about the last place anyone looking for the Princess would think to check. An Arcane Beacon could be erected on site in preparation for a governmental decapitation, to allow her to communicate with our forces on the mainland." Luna immediately recognized the meaning of the island's name, translated from draconic it roughly became 'The Isle of Lost Hope'...

"May we have the room, please...? You are all dismissed." Celestia abruptly spoke up, before Luna could even begin to compile a response. As per the request, the various officers and advisers of S-COM rose from their seats and filed out, closing the door behind them as they went. With it firmly secured shut, Orcus clasped his hands behind his back and took another drag on his cigarette.

"You want me to send my daughter to a remote island near the Frozen North?" Luna asked rhetorically, only for Orcus to nod in the affirmative. "I realize your concern over a decapitation of our government, but is such a move really necessary? We have increased security around the Castle, should that not be enough?"

"Typically, were this a normal threat, it would be." Orcus began a bit more somberly, stepping out of the light of the projection spell. "We're still making this up as we go, your Majesty. Short of taking a blood sample from every person that enters the gates, I am uncertain if there is any other way to non-invasively determine if a person is a Changeling." The man crushed his cigarette out into an overflowing ashtray, then took another from his pocket. After a few moments, however, Orcus slipped the cigarette back into the pack and took a seat across from both Princesses.

"There's more to this than continuity of government, isn't there...?" Celestia's tone was more accusatory than questioning. "I thought you agreed you wouldn't keep things from us anymore, Orcus." The Director bowed his head slightly, lacing his fingers together on the table as the projected image shimmered to reveal a photograph of a remarkably ancient monolith of white stone, its surface meticulously carved with varying symbols, symbols Luna recognized instantly. The object itself was the Kwarczkie lexicon at the Canterlot Draconic Institute, the very same that'd helped Twilight Sparkle to learn the ancient language, and Luna, by extension.

"Indeed I did, which is what I intended to do after our meeting was completed, now serves just as well." Orcus began, inclining his head towards the image. "I believe Princess Orzel may be a key component of an ancient prophecy..." The man began in that gravelly voice of his. Though she maintained her outward calm, Luna nonetheless felt a lance of panic run down her spine. "A powerful spell-caster of an ancient draconic race arrives and is taken in by the royal family of the most powerful state in the world..." The Director began evenly. "Not long after, an old and powerful threat rears its ugly head... Now, take into account what Piercing told us of their history. The Changelings and Kwarczkie fought one another in the Abyssal War, and a pattern appears to emerge." Orcus sighed.

"I realize the reasoning might be thin, but as with all things relating to the Kwarczkie, we have little to go on. Our field agents in the Southern Dragonlands have found few intact monuments, though the search remains ongoing. " The Director continued as reassuringly as he could. "We need time to determine if these happenings are just coincidence or something greater, and I feel it best that Princess Orzel be sequestered somewhere beyond the conceivable reach of any Changeling in the meantime."

Luna opened her mouth to respond, then stopped herself and looked at Celestia. Her sister seemed transfixed, between the news of a potential prophecy and the monolith displayed on screen. Luna suspected she'd get little advice as a result. As with so many things relating to Orzel, to even consider the notion of sending her daughter away was, from an impartial point of view, difficult enough as to border impossible. Though the Princess didn't totally approve of her daughter's latest ventures, with time she'd come to accept that the changes Orzel was making were positive ones. It'd first become clear when Luna received the first report from Orzel regarding progress on her OUBC Project...

On its surface the paper was a lot of dull technical terminology, but reading between the lines, Luna had discerned a sense of passion and satisfaction in the work that couldn't be understated. The same could be said of her twice weekly visits to prayer services. Religion wasn't for everyone, Luna personally considered herself an agnostic, but even if she still had misgivings about the idea long term, in the short term its benefits couldn't be denied... It helped Orzel become more centered, and in spite of her implacable stoicism, Luna nonetheless detected a little more spring in the girl's steps.

Whether that was the result entirely of prayer services or not was doubtful, the Princess personally believed it was more likely her daughter's infatuation with Spike that was the real culprit. Of all the changes, that was still the most difficult to swallow. Luna had been exceptionally lucky in meeting Observos, and she could only worry that her daughter wouldn't be so fortunate. The last thing Luna wanted was for Orzel to get her heart broken... All of these things, plus others, made it that much harder for Luna to come to grips with deciding to heed the Director's advice.

Sending Orzel away, just as she was getting her feet underneath her, seemed a good way for Luna to permanently damage relations with her daughter. She knew how Orzel would process the news, knew that she'd come up with a dozen reasons as to why Luna was 'actually' sending her away... This time, Luna doubted greatly Orzel would blame some failing on her own part. She'd think it was because Luna didn't want her going to the temple, or that she didn't want her to correspond with Spike anymore, and Luna knew all too well the negative ideas that sort of belief could breed...

"I understand your concerns, Director, but at present I do not feel comfortable with the proposal at this time." Luna finally stated, sighing heavily through her nose. She could see the concern in Orcus' eyes, so she raised a mollifying hand. "I may be persuaded to revisit my decision if at the conclusion of Operation Firewatch I believe we are truly as ill prepared as you and my daughter believe we are, but not before." Orcus' features relaxed considerably, though Luna could see the man's fingers now drumming pensively against the table. "You have something further you want to add?"

"I would also like to urge your reconsideration of your ban on the Princess's development of offensive equipment." Orcus stated cautiously, taking a more diplomatic tone. "I think it would be prudent to commission Basilisk Defense Technologies to come up with an entirely new line of infantry equipment, including small arms. Body armor is well and good, but as I said before, these are uncertain times." Luna cast a look at Celestia, whom had since taken her eyes from the image of the monolith. "You know as well as I do that she's uniquely qualified in that field, we'd be fools not to at least attempt to make use of every asset at our disposal. On its own, I'm concerned Equestria's defense industry may not be up to the task of meeting the needs of the modern battlefield."

Luna pursed her lips, sighing through her nose as she took in Orcus' words... She'd hoped to take more time to decide, and hearing Orzel's special abilities referred to as an 'asset' didn't help matters. Loathe as Luna was to admit it, though, the man actually had a point. Her daughter was more than willing to take on such a task, especially if it meant Equestria would be better prepared to face threats in the future. If Piercing's theories about the Kwarczkie were correct, if she was some sort of 'Weapon Wizard', it could propel Equestria's military back to its position of former glory. Glory, of course, was the least of Luna's concerns...

For the first time since first taking Orzel in, her worries over the girl's mental health had all but subsided completely... She was far better off now than she'd been upon her first session with Doctor Scratch, and Luna's fear that she might do something foolish had likewise faded to the point of only lingering in the back of her mind. That still left the risk of Orzel being harmed by an accident, but as the girl would be quick to remind her, she was of a far sturdier sort than the typical Equestrian.

"What sort of environment would she be focusing on, were this to go ahead?" Celestia abruptly asked, finally bringing herself into the conversation. Something about the image on the screen had her attention, Luna could tell that much, though she suspected she wouldn't learn what it was until after their conversation with Orcus concluded. "Jungle? Arctic? Forest?"

"Preferably all of them, but off the top of my head...?" Orcus began, scratching under his chin. "Desert, forest, and an urban environment. We suspect these to be the most likely locations for us to face Changeling forces." Celestia nodded in response, but offered no further comment. Just as was the case regarding informing Orzel about the Changeling menace, the decision was Luna's... She hated the idea, truly she did, but in this instance... The good of the country had to come first.

"Create a list of the items you want particular focus on, I will present it to her myself after the conclusion of Operation Firewatch." Luna conceded with a heavy sigh, Orcus nodded dutifully and reached into his pocket. Apparently finished with his concerns, the man withdrew the cigarette he'd stowed before. "Now, please... Leave us..." The man nodded simply as he lit the cigarette, rising from his seat and making for the door. In a matter of seconds the room was empty, save the two sisters, both of whom sat for a few moments of silence. Ultimately it was Luna that broke the silence, as the great weight of her decision began bearing down. "Do you think I am making the right choice for her?"

"If you're asking if I think it's wise to put so much further pressure on her? I can't say..." Celestia stated honestly, leaning back in her seat and staring at the continuing projection. "I think if we are to ask her to do this for Equestria, we must also take an active role in assisting her." Luna nodded in agreement with the sentiment, though that wasn't the answer she'd been hoping for. "If you're asking if I think it's right to allow her to pursue weapon's research in general? I suppose must answer your question with a question. Would you be so conflicted if she wanted to pursue bladesmithing? It's a field many Equestrians go into when they get their cutie marks, perhaps just as dangerous as gunsmithing, if not more so... All that fire and hot steel, all those heavy hammers and tongs." Luna paused for a moment, then sighed.

"I do not want to take away what remains of her teenaged years..." The woman responded, also leaning back in her seat. "That is one of my greatest fears, that she will one day come to resent me for asking such a thing of her." Celestia merely hummed in understanding. "Was it this difficult with me, when I was her age...?" Her sister began chuckling warmly, prompting Luna to turn in her seat and look at the woman directly.

"You and Orzel can both be almost unbearably persistent at times, and I mean that in the best of ways, but... It's difficult to say." Celestia stated with nostalgia, her eyes returning to the image of the monolithic lexicon. When next she spoke, it was with a note of seriousness. "My main concern would be what Orcus said about the potential for a prophecy..." She pointed briefly at the screen. "Orzel mentioned something to me during her first visit to the Temple of Lexicos, how she'd 'seen' something called a Monolith, a great white stone tablet, while meditating..." The woman rubbed at her chin, Luna could certainly see why the image had thus drawn Celestia's attention. "I recall there were a few messages from a monastery in the Southern Dragonlands, shortly after Orzel first revealed her origins. I think it might be wise to have Orcus look more deeply into the visiting Seeker, a Drake by the name of Topaz. He mentioned being called upon by Lexicos herself to visit this temple in particular..."

As if Luna wasn't already worried about alienating her daughter as it was, having Orcus look into the Seeker would only complicate things. The girl spoke quite fondly of him, as he was supposedly easy to approach despite a somewhat intense appearance. Odds were that if Orcus started asking questions of this 'Seeker Topaz' fellow, he'd invariably mention it to Orzel, and of course Orzel would take it to mean that Luna was trying to spy on her and keep her from practicing her faith... Even so, this was one scenario where Luna had to bite the bullet. Much as she believed the prophecy theory to be only that, a theory, she nonetheless had to ensure that other acts of subterfuge weren't underway.

"Remember when the worst thing we had to worry about was whether or not we had enough wreathes for the Hearthswarming Eve Festival?" Luna asked with despondent frustration, rising from her seat and using her wings to clear the air of smoke around her. Celestia rose shortly after, likewise doing her best to clear the lingering smog away from her.

"Of course I do, but I also remember when we almost ran out of clean drinking water, or that fire that burned half the wheat crops, or the barbarians that tried to sack our capital... Twice." Celestia responded as the two of them walked towards the door, the projection spell winking out of existence as they moved. "The world's problems aren't any less difficult now as they were a thousand years ago, they're just more... Complicated."

"You realize complicated is a synonym of difficult, correct?" Luna countered as the two of them opened the door, stepping out into the well lit outer hallway.

"Yes, but you're smart enough to know what I mean." Celestia offered flatly, clasping her hands behind her back as the two continued walking. There was no real destination in mind as of yet, but just standing in place seemed... Wasteful of precious time, somehow. "While I'm hopeful the Changeling threat goes nowhere, that doesn't mean another threat won't pop up. Our world has a lot more moving parts now than it did before... Only recently have I realized how many there were, and how poorly many of them fit together." Celestia cast a brief look out a nearby window, looking vaguely in the direction of Orzel's tower. "Were we not already giving her so many tasks, I would think it best to turn Orzel loose against that problem as well."

"I would be surprised if the idea had not already crossed her mind..." Luna mumbled, and together the two of them continued on, neither of them quite sure of what might come next.

Though he wouldn't admit it outright, Spike was feeling remarkably strange, more so than had been the case recently. It was a bizarre, churning, hungry sensation in his stomach, that only ever abated when he laid in bed. Only his bed, though, no other couch or chair would suffice. As if to prove just how strong the sensation was, today was his birthday, and no amount of special 'birthday breakfast' or other fare could satiate the hunger ravenous building within. Try as he might to fight against it, Spike was also regarding various objects around the library with a new found desire, objects that he couldn't help feeling would just look better in his room. Books, lamps, even the kitchen sink... He'd yet to act on the urge to liberate the items for himself, but they grew all the more enticing with every passing moment.

Matters weren't helped by other concerns on the boy's mind, primarily the disposition of his future. It'd been a simple enough task to go into the local recruiter's office, and though he was informed quite forcefully that he needed a parent's authorization to continue the process, he'd nonetheless been given a series of brochures and papers. They gave details about the various benefits of enlisting, including a pension, government aid if he wanted to attend college, and skills that could be transferred to a civilian career when, if, he ever left the service. If he wanted to make the military his career, that was perfectly fine as well. Not to mention the chance for adventure and the honor of serving a cause that Spike, personally, found to be quite noble and heroic...

There were two recruiters in particular that'd gotten Spike's attention, Lieutenant Archboard of the Navy and Major Offensive of the Lunar Marines. He was still partial to the Navy, specifically the 'Method of Service' classified as 'Damage Control Specialist'... Essentially a firefighter, according to Archboard. As a dragon, who was naturally impervious to fire, it seemed a potentially good choice... The Marines, meanwhile, were looking for infantrymen and truck drivers... While not as glamorous as visiting some foreign port, driving a truck across Equestria didn't seem that bad an option either. Both possible outcomes, of course, was predicated on the notion that Twilight actually agreed to sign off on the paperwork... Now that he was seventeen, her signature was all that stood between him and the chance to see the world. Getting that signature, however, was proving easier said than done.

"Absolutely not!" Twilight proclaimed loudly, her face a mixture of shock and disbelief, clenching the parental consent form in her hand. Spike had filled the majority of the form out himself, except for the final few lines, which needed to be filled out by Twilight. Obviously, judging by the shrillness of her voice, his argument wasn't quite strong enough to convince his Mom. Spike had expected as much, though he'd sincerely hoped he'd be wrong. "You're too young to be making decisions like this on your own, did someone put you up to this?" Spike leaned back in his seat at the kitchen table, crossing his arms as he sighed through his nose.

"No, Mom, no one put me up to this." Spike countered flatly, trying his best to maintain a calm facade. "I don't see what the big deal is, you and your friends have gone on tons of adventures." Twilight set the papers on the table, sighing with frustration before taking a seat across from the boy.

"Yes, we have, but there's a difference between solving a friendship problem and going off to join the military." She stated bluntly, looking Spike in the eyes with an expression of profoundest seriousness and concern. "It's a very big commitment... I mean, have you read this?" Twilight asked, gesturing to the form. "The minimum required period of service is four years! That's four years away from home, away from all your friends and family..." Spike nodded again, he was indeed very aware of that fact, but it wasn't as if he couldn't write a letter back home. "What if something happens? What if you get attacked by pirates? Or dragons? Or dragon pirates?" The woman's voice grew softer. "What if you have to hurt someone else, Spike...? What if you have to kill someone? Have you thought about that?"

"Well, yes, actually..." Spike admitted, tensely rubbing at the back of his neck. "The thought did occur..." He looked at the table, sighing heavily through his nose. "I'm just... Sick of being stuck here. I don't want to just be your assistant forever, you know? I'm not a boy anymore, despite what you might thing, and I'm not some 'baby dragon' either. I can take care of myself, I can handle responsibility. I've learned to run this library by myself, haven't I?" Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but the young man cut her off. "I want to serve my country, don't you think I'm old enough to decide that for myself...?"

"No... No I don't." Twilight's respond was blunt, but... No longer shrill, nor was it angry, it was... Different. It took him a moment to realize that she was speaking to him as an adult. "I know you may not think it, but one year is a long time... I don't want you to sign up for something as big as this, only to decide a few months later that you've made a mistake." Twilight set the paper on the table and slid it back to her son. "If you still want to sign up when you're eighteen, that's your business, but... Right now you're asking me to send you into harms way... Asking me to let you potentially hurt people... You'll go much further in life using your words, not going out to look for a fight, especially if it's for the sake of 'adventure' alone. It's just wrong." Spike sighed, both in frustration and slightly out of guilt.

"What about Shining Armor? He's in the Royal Guard, was it wrong for him to sign up?" The young man asked, crossing his arms across his chest. "What if a year from now I still want to enlist? Are you going to think less of me if I decide that's the life I want too?" The sensation in his stomach was only growing stronger, further fanning the fires of his irritability.

"I won't think less of you, that's... Not what I meant." Started Twilight, sighing with evident frustration, while still managing to maintain a level of calm. "I just don't want you to to run off thinking it's some big adventure, then wind up getting killed because of it. If you want to do that when you're eighteen, there's not much I can do to stop you, but right now? Right now there's nothing, nothing, anyone can say that will change my mind. I will not..." The woman's facade of calmness faltered, her voice actually cracking, while a tear streaked down her cheek. "I will not be the one to send my baby off to war..."

The rumbling fire in Spike's stomach was briefly curtailed by Spike's realization that he'd made his Mom cry... He hadn't thought about it in terms of what it might mean to Twilight, and hearing her put it so succinctly was enough to give him pause. Once again he was sitting in the kitchen, once again he felt like the absolute lowest piece of dirt in all creation. The strange feeling returned with a vengeance, but Spike fought against it with all his might... He might've told Twilight about it, but he'd already made her upset enough, he wasn't going to compound things further. Sighing heavily through his nose, Spike silently rose from his seat and picked up the form...

"I'm sorry..." He mumbled quietly, crumpling the paper into a ball and casting it into a nearby trash can. The young man started towards the door, but was stopped when Twilight grabbed hold of the sleeve of his purple hooded sweatshirt. He turned back to face her just in time for the woman to hug him tightly, especially considering she only came up to about his chin.

"I'm not mad at you..." She stated simply, refusing to let go. "You just sprung this on me, and I didn't have time to think about what I said." Spike somewhat awkwardly glanced around the kitchen, then tentatively returned the hug. "My Mom nearly went out of her mind when Shining joined the Army, but she understood that he did so because he wanted to make Equestria a safer place..." Twilight held him even tighter.

"You're growing up to be a good man, Spike, and if in a year you still feel that enlisting is the right thing for you, I... I want you to know that I'll be proud of you." With those further words from Twilight, Spike's feeling of shame abated somewhat, though he still felt like dirt for putting his Mom in such a position. Her posture abruptly changed before Spike could respond, however. "Are you feeling okay?" The woman let go of Spike, wiping at her eyes and taking a deep breath. "It feels like you've got a temperature." Spike was once again surprised by Twilight's ability to chain gears so quickly, especially as she put her hand on his forehead. "By Celestia, you're burning up!"

"Uh... I'm a dragon?" Spike countered weakly, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. "Fire is kinda my thing?" Twilight stepped back, putting her hands on her hips and fixing him with a look that told him her time addressing him as an adult had temporarily come to an end. "It's nothing, Mom, just a little... I dunno, acid reflux or whatever." The woman inclined her head ever so slightly forward, looking at him intently over the rims of her glasses, a clear indication that she wasn't buying it.

"How long...?" Twilight asked.

"It's not that-" Spike started, but Twilight spoke over him.

"Tell me how long, are you having any other symptoms." The woman repeated herself, regarding him with ever increasing scrutiny.

"A couple days, I guess? I'm just really, really, hungry, but... For weird stuff. Like, I want the refrigerator, and the sink, and..." Spike settled his eyes on a broom in the corner... It was just about brand new, hardly ever been used... Why shouldn't he have it? "That's a nice broom..." He quickly shook his head. "See what I mean?" A look of horror spread across the young man's face. "Am I going to explode? Is that even possible?!" Twilight's serious demeanor all but evaporated with those words, as evidently she was struggling to keep from laughing... Spike failed to see what was so funny.

"You aren't going to explode." She stated as seriously as she could, which did little to assuage Spike's fear about what might actually be wrong with him. "I was talking with Princess Celestia recently about just this sort of thing, actually... It sounds like you're undergoing some sort of 'quasi-Elemental Transformation'."

"Like the Elements of Harmony? That sort of transformation?" Spike asked, quickly beginning to pace back and forth. "I always felt like I should've worn a lead lined apron or something when those things went off! Am I turning to stone? I'm turning to stone, aren't I!" Twilight quickly moved to stop him, putting both hands on his shoulders.

"No, Spike, you are not turning to stone." Twilight insisted, managing a slightly more serious expression now. "It's a thing that all dragons go through, typically it's when they get their horns and fangs... So, I suppose it's sort of like teething, but all over your body." Twilight trailed off, rubbing at her chin. "According to Princess Celestia it's the final stage in draconic development before what she called a molt, but... You don't have to worry about that for another year." The woman turned her attention fully back to Spike. "The point is that there's nothing to worry about, though... The Princess did advise me not to let you have too many things too quickly." Twilight crossed her arms across her chest, looking thoughtfully around the kitchen. "I'm going to have to give her a call for more specifics. Why don't you head upstairs and lay down, there's still some time before the party."

"Right... The Party." Spike nodded, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck. "I think you're right, actually... Laying down makes me feel a little better." Twilight merely smiled and nodded at him, and with that last bit of permission the young man made his way out of the kitchen.

With as much speed as he could pour on without appearing too hurried, he ascended the steps and quickly entered his room. It wasn't nearly as clean as it'd been following Orzel's first visit, but he'd managed to maintain some semblance of order... Partly because he was told that'd be a good habit to get into by the recruiters. Speaking of the Princess that'd cleaned his room, he took a few minutes to tidy up what bits of the room were now out of place. It still wasn't exactly perfect, but he hoped it'd be enough to at least make it seem like he wasn't a slob... Well, not a total slob at any rate...

When all was said and done, the young man plopped down atop his freshly made bed bed and rolled onto his back. As expected, the burning sensation in his stomach faded as soon as he hit the mattress... Just as was the case with his sleeping, it always came back to that mattress in particular... It wasn't even that comfortable. Maybe the lumps were in just the right place where they actually supported him better? Whatever the cause of that strange soothing sensation, Spike remained motionless on his bed for the next hour or so, staring up at his ceiling...

His mind slowly wound down from the conversation he'd had with Twilight, which both troubled and soothed his anxious thoughts. So he was going through some sort of 'Elemental Transformation', whatever the heck that meant... Thinking back over the past few weeks, his thoughts to Princess Orzel. She had fangs, though she took every opportunity to hide them from view... Spike hadn't seen if she had horns or not either, though odds were those were concealed beneath her headscarf... The headscarf apparently had to do with her religion, at least as far as she'd explained it to him. Why she went out of her way to conceal her fangs, one of her most beautiful draconic features, was still a mystery to Spike.

Orzel had promised she'd visit the party, and while Spike would nonetheless be happy to see everyone that came, the Princess once again was all he could think about. By now he was almost positive in his feelings the Princess liked him... As in like-liked him... Being almost positive, of course, meant little. If he was wrong, if he attempted to broach the subject of perhaps seeing a movie together, or maybe going to dinner, it might very ruin the rapport he had with her. There was that inner fire again... Even as he laid atop the only bed that could offer him rest, it burned hotter and hotter the more he thought about her, to such an extent that Spike actually noticed smoke starting to waft away from the sleeves of his hoodie.

"What the...?" The sight was enough to snap him from his reverie, only to yelp suddenly as something sharp jabbed him in the lip. Rising to a sitting position, the young man rubbed at his mouth, noting the very sudden arrival of two wickedly sharp incisors, which now protruded past his lower lip. "When the heck did those get here...?" He muttered, rising from the bed, only to immediately sit back down.

Pain... Unimaginable pain... He'd injured himself several times throughout his life, including a run in he and Big Macintosh once had with a pack of particularly ornery, and deceptively fast, woodchucks. That, however, was a story the two of them agreed was never to be spoken of again. The point was that this... This was a whole new adventure in agony. What was more, the sweatshirt once again began to smoke, as if just about ready to catch fire.

"Wow... Wow wow, wow wow wow..." Spike said through gritted teeth. "Son of a... Bicycle repairman, that smarts... Just gonna... Sit back down." The pain faded to manageable levels as soon as he was back on the bed, the smoke likewise coming to a stop. He probably should've called down for Twilight, but... It didn't feel bad enough to go to the hospital, he just needed to man up, tough it out a bit longer. Never mind that it felt like he'd swallowed twenty pounds of white hot steel rivets, he could handle this on his own. He'd already gotten her upset enough to cry once today, he wasn't keen on trying for a double hitter.

Then, just as he didn't think the situation could get any worse, the door to his room opened. At first, Spike worried it was Twilight... To his slight relief, he was treated to the arrival of a familiar bespectacled Princess. Orzel was dressed as casually as she ever allowed herself, a pair of work boots boots, jeans, a white woolen sweater, and her omnipresent headscarf, a portion of which she'd pulled up just a tad to cover the lower portion of her face. Though her eyes remained stoic, it was clear she'd been informed something was amiss.

Fearing she might call attention to the sudden change in his symptoms, namely the small haze of smoke that lingered in the air, Spike quickly waved her in. One of the few rules Twilight had whenever Orzel visited was that the door to his room had to stay open, he didn't exactly know why that was... Seeing as one of the activities he and Orzel liked to do together was work on their respective models, he reasoned it was probably so there was enough ventilation to keep them from being overcome by the fumes of modeling glue. Regardless, he didn't want his Mom to see all the smoke that'd filled the room, so he wordlessly gestured for Orzel to close the door. Her eyes widened for just a moment, boring into him for a few moments as if searching for some hidden meaning... Then, with some mild reluctance, she closed the door.

"Are you in pain?" Orzel asked with that concerned monotone of hers, standing in front of him, hands on her hips. Spike nodded silently, prompting the Princess to bring one hand to her chin. "Are you breathing fire, or is this the result of something else?"

"Watch." Spike rose from the bed, his temperature and pain level spiking. After only a few seconds the jacket was smoking again, and he was in sufficient enough pain to groan as he was forced back down. Within moments of making that noise, Orzel was in front of him, closer than she'd ever been before. Without any sort of preamble she took his chin into her hands and held his head steady, then she turned his head from one side, then the other... As if he was some sort of... Test subject, or a particularly interesting piece of fruit.

"Fascinating..." The Princess mumbled distantly, stepping back and reaching into her back pocket. She quickly withdrew a small notebook and pencil, then opened it to the middle page and began jotting something down. "When did the fangs emerge, and how long have you been... Spontaneously combusting? Your Mother mentioned neither of these symptoms."

Her flat tone was once again difficult to discern, but Spike once again could tell the Princess was anything by aloof. Despite the otherwise calm demeanor, several hairs had fallen down into her face, and Spike could've sworn she was fidgeting from one foot to another... As with most things relating to the Princess body language, each movement was almost imperceptibly minute. Her nostrils flared, her eyebrows twitched downwards several times. Was she... Was she having a panic attack? Surely not...

"I dunno, maybe ten minutes ago?" Spike answered, though the vagueness of the answer wasn't enough for the Princess. "I haven't told Mom because she's already worried about me enough as it is... I asked if I could join the Navy, she said no, it got a little heated..." The young man put a hand on his stomach and grimaced. "I came up to lay down, and since then it feels like I've got a belly full of molten lead, but it only stops hurting when I'm on this bed in particular. Any other place I sit or lay down it keeps hurting, strangest thing I ever saw..." Spike continued, and to his sudden surprise Orzel huffed with evident annoyance and knelt on the floor. Once again, without any preamble, she peered under his bed. "What are you doing?"

The Princess response was to shush him, she actually shushed him! In his own room! Spike supposed he should've been used to that by now, she could be a tad... Intense when the pressure was on. One time, she'd actually crushed a pair of her dice to colorful powder during a particularly close O&O battle with a tyrant king. Bearing that in mind, Spike made no move to stop her. With little fanfare the Princess stood back to her full limited height and returned her hands to her hips. Despite her stature, the look she gave him was nonetheless severe, as if he'd missed something that should've been patently obvious.

"It is no wonder you feel better on this bed. This is where you keep your hoard." She stated bluntly, Spike's only response was to stare at her dumbly. "Your hoard... Your collection of things that are precious to you." Again, Spike just stared at her, and to his continuing amazement the girl rolled her eyes, this was the most expressive he'd seen her in a long time. "You are dragon, tak? You know what hoard is?" So evident was her frustration that her accent actually started to slip. "Is not important." She continued before Spike could answer. "You are not well, and you sit here... Not wanting ask for Mother's help. Why? You want to be big tough guy?! Your clothes burn if you stand, and you live inside giant tree! You want to burn house down over being big tough guy? Is how you become big bezdomny guy. That what you want? Tak lub nie?"

The Princess began pacing, scribbling more in her notebook with each passing moment, the look of stoicism gradually being replaced by one of deeply troubled concern. Not the sort of controlled concern that Spike expect of a Princess either, but actual legitimate worry over his health... That was to be expected, he supposed, as the two of them were very close... Come to think of it, he'd been ruminating on that particular subject just as the pain in his gut started. Unaware of that realization on his part, Orzel now commenced muttering in Szafirian. By now, Spike had absorbed enough of the Princess's language to understand a few sentences. It was really only when she peppered Equestrian and Szafirian together that he struggled.

"How can he be so smart and so foolish at the same time? Does he enjoy making me worry?" The Princess stopped abruptly, then pointed squarely at Spike's chest. Restoring her mask of calm, she switched back to Equestrian, unaware that Spike had understood what she said. "You stay here, tak? Is order, unless you want to set fire to house." Spike just stared at the Princess, once again absolutely dumbfounded that she could bounce from one train of thought to another so quickly... Sort of like Twilight, now that he thought about it. She opened the door to his bedroom, exiting just as swiftly as she'd entered. "Miss Sparkle!" Her voice grew distant, accompanied by the sound of creaking steps.

Spike groaned loudly, once again attempting to rise to his feet, only for his jacket to actually catch fire this time. He quickly sat back on the bed, beating the flames out, though not without first creating a considerable plume of smoke. His thoughts returned to what the Princess had said about his 'hoard'... While he was aware that most dragons liked to keep large piles of gold and jewels around to lounge upon, it was something he'd not actually ever considered for himself. The things he kept under his bed were certainly precious to him, and among other things included souvenirs he'd taken from a few adventures he'd accompanied Twilight on...

The more he thought about it, the more the sensation in his gut began to make sense. He was hungry, but it wasn't for food, it was for stuff... Stuff that intrinsically wasn't worth much, but he wanted it all the same. He just didn't get it. Just that day he'd given a perfectly ripened fire ruby to Rarity, he'd been saving that ruby for months, just waiting for the proper time to eat it... Only to give it away? On its surface it certainly wasn't a very 'Dragon' thing of him to do, but... Maybe it was? Maybe, in being selfless he was also being selfish? In a good way. What was most precious to him? Was it gold? No... Jewels? Evidently not, seeing as he'd given up the fire ruby.

The door to his room was once again pushed open, and in stepped both Twilight and Orzel. Once again, the visible portions of the Princess's face were set with distinct worry... Twilight meanwhile was carrying a fire extinguisher, appearing far calmer now than she had before, but she too was the very picture of maternal concern. In that briefest of moments, less than a fraction of a second, it felt as if the stars had aligned, granting the young man a guiding bolt of clarity. The things that were most precious to him weren't gold or jewels, they weren't any sort of gaudy bauble or paltry trinket of splendor...

Physical treasures could be lost and replaced, but those souvenirs he'd taken couldn't, nor could the care he saw each day in the eyes of his family and friends. People that only a short time ago he'd feared might shun him if they truly understood who and what he was... While others might not be so trustworthy, Spike was fortunate enough to have become acquainted with more than a handful of people worthy of his trust... There was nothing that could be finer than that trust and the treasured relationships he'd built for himself, nothing more valuable than the benevolence and altruism of friendship.

Well... Almost nothing, a little gold certainly couldn't hurt, among other things... He was getting off track, then again Spike supposed that was just the fickle nature of clarity. Even that thought was shaken from him by the dawning understanding that his hoard was already exceptionally large, even if physically it was relegated to a mere couple shoe boxes of trinkets. Just like that, the discomfort in his stomach all but evaporated.

"I'm actually feeling a lot better now, really." Spike protested, once again standing up. Twilight abruptly directed the nozzle of the fire extinguisher at him, but refrained from spraying him when no further smoke or flame manifested. "Mind over matter, y'know?" As if choreographed, both his Mom and the Princess leaned their heads forward, peering at him over the rims of their glasses... "Honest! See? No flames." Spike insisted, gesturing to himself in general. Twilight handed the fire extinguisher off to Orzel, then stepped forward and put her hand on his forehead.

"He's cool..." Twilight confirmed, sighing with relief and offering a small smile. "Good thing, too... The Princess was worried we'd need to spray you down with fire retardant foam and toss you out the window..." Spike couldn't tell if she was joking to lift his spirits or legitimately serious judging by the presence of the extinguisher it might've been a bit of both. She knew that he knew that he'd be perfectly fine if he fell out the window, he was a Dragon after all. Better a little discomfort and broken glass than a house fire. "Might be best to keep that here... Just in case." The woman gestured to the extinguisher, which Orzel set gently beside Spike's desk. "If you'll excuse me, I still have some things to get ready. Open the window, and make sure this door stays open, get some of this smoke out of here."

"Okay, Mom..." Spike agreed, walking over to the window and undoing the latch, then sliding it upward. He heard Twilight mumble something, followed by Orzel humming in agreement, though what it was she was agreeing with was unknown. The young man turned around just as Twilight was making her way out, the chilly outside air rushing in while the warm smokey air rushed out. Orzel had taken a seat on the edge of Spike's bed, where she always sat, whilst Spike took possession of his desk chair. "So..." He started stiffly. "How has your day been, my Lady?" As was the case so many times, Spike saw just the fainted hint of a blush spread across the Princess's cheeks... Something about that made him feel better, though for the life of him he couldn't say exactly why.

"Busy... I was taking inventory of my workshop, then a matter came up that required some attention." Orzel's answer was characteristic vague, yet another facet Spike all but expected of their friendship. He knew well enough by now that there were just some aspects of the Princess's life that she couldn't share, no matter how much the girl herself might've wanted to, particularly those pertaining to national security. "I am more interested in what you mentioned earlier, that you asked your Mother's permission to enlist early. I did not think you would actually do so on your birthday, it seems improper for what I am told is supposed to be a festive ritual."

Spike by now was almost an expert in 'Orzel-ese', the translation of the Princesses often verbose and strict manner of speaking. Translated into normal-speak, it amounted more to 'What were you thinking telling your Mom you want to join the Army on your Birthday? Isn't that a bit of a mood killer?'.

"I don't know, I guess just wanted to get started as soon as possible." Was Spike's reply as he spun aimlessly in his seat, taking a moment to remove his now charred hoodie. It was already a little chilly in the room as is, but now he was reduced to wearing only a t-shirt and jeans... Not that it mattered, he had a particularly active inner flame today, after all. "I get that she's worried about me, and she made some really, really, good points, but... I still feel like I could be doing more good out there fighting pirates than I can here, putting away romance novels." Orzel looked at him for a few moments, then turned her attention to the floor.

"My father used to fight pirates." She stated somewhat seriously, fidgeting on the edge of the bed. "I never knew him before he was in the service of the Imperial Armada. Once, he told me it was like fighting the ocean itself." Orzel looked out the window at the chilly winter afternoon, the sun already starting to dip in the sky. "He sank or captured hundreds of pirate and privateer ships, but there were always more to take their place... It is difficult for me to recall times when he would smile." The girl turned her eyes back to Spike, staring into him with those intense emerald orbs of light.. "I think your Mother was right to deny your request."

This one was a little tricky for Spike to decipher, but he was pretty sure it meant something along the lines of 'My Dad joined the Navy, he was very good at his job, but it took a toll on him. I'm glad you're not joining, because I care too much about you to see the same thing happen to you.'... To that, Spike had little in the way of a response. As he'd said, Twilight already made a lot of good points... It was one thing to think he could do the job, it was another to actually see it through.

"You already do your nation a great service, and I do not mean only in the efficiency with which you process books." Orzel continued somewhat seriously, oblivious to Spike's inner dialogue with himself. "Everyone hears of the exploits of great heroes, but few ever mention the people that help them be heroes. Practically, there is no such thing as a 'One Man Army'..." Orzel peered about the room, her eyes settling on the latest figurine Spike was in the process of painting. "Look at him... Without his armor, his weapon, food or water, he would be hard pressed to defeat a giant rat, let alone an evil wizard." Spike looked at the figurine for himself, rubbing his slightly stubbly chin, his new fangs now digging into his skin. "Twilight is able to save Equestria with her friends because she has you to aid her. I am likewise better able to attend to my duties because of our continued... Correspondence..." Spike turned his attention back to the Princess, she was looking away from him again, once again flushed.

"I'm sure you both could manage without me." The young man's disbelieving tone was a little disingenuous... While he was quite certain Twilight and Orzel would get on fine without his help, he also understood that they had come to rely on him for help and advice respectively. "Are you sure you're not just saying this because Twilight asked you earlier to talk be out of joining up in a year?"

"She asked nothing of the sort, only that I make sure you are still feeling well. Even if she had, I would not do so..." The Princess trailed off, looking at the floor. "I trust you enough to tell you things I might not mention to someone else. Short of my family, there is only one other person on this planet with which I share anything near that of trust... If you still believe it the proper course to enlist next year, I will therefore trust that you believe wholeheartedly in your decision." Orzel began fiddling slightly with the ends of her sleeves, then twiddling her thumbs. "As I have said in the past, you are... Important to me."

Spike stared at the Princess for a few moments, his mind sorting through everything she'd just said, trying to find a thread. It took him a moment to process, but in the end he translated it to mean something as simple as. 'You're my best friend.'... The more he examined Orzel, however, the more that spark from earlier began to flourish... What if this was her way of confirming what he suspected...? Spike dared not hope that was the case, because frankly, he wouldn't know what to do with that information either way. There was another option, one that seemed just as likely, if not more so... Maybe Twilight put Orzel up to this, to try and talk him out of joining up when he turned eighteen. Spike doubted the Princess would do that, but he couldn't be sure either. Once again, caution and discretion seemed the better parts of valor, so the young man opted not to pursue either theory in detail.

"Then I'll continue to stay right here, for the time being at least... Faithfully and efficiently sorting Bit-a-dozen romance novels and pulp science-fiction, administering late fees, and keeping careful records of all that goes on in these hallowed halls." Spike offered with a tone of obviously overdone urbanity, closing by bringing a hand to his chest and bowing his head with exaggerated solemnity towards the Princess. "I shall do these things heedless of paper cuts, heavy book returns, and the other maladies that might fell other, lesser, librarians than myself... All for Crown and Country!"

The two of them shared a brief chuckle at the over-the-top delivery, or at least as close to a chuckle as Orzel ever allowed herself... Then, somewhat abruptly, the room lapsed into a slightly awkward silence afterwards. The only noise that persisted came from the rushing winter breeze, clearing the air of the last vestiges of smoke. The Princess watched the dwindling wisps as they were carried outside, allowing Spike to observe her without fear of her noticing. Her mask of stoicism was, by now, as easy to read as an open book. Even with the lower portion of her face concealed, it was obvious that she was fascinated by those few ethereal tufts of smoke that remained.

"If I might ask you something personal, my Lady..." Spike's tone was a little more serious, and the question itself quickly brought Orzel's full attention back to him. "Why do you wear your scarf like that...? You didn't before." Orzel stared at him for a few moments, then looked at the floor, bringing a hand to the portion of her scarf that covered the lower part of her face...

"I... I suppose I just want to look my best... When I am out and about." The Princess began tentatively, after a few tense moments her eyes returned to Spike, and in them he saw the Princess to be in a deeply vulnerable state of mind. She quietly shook her head, as if she wanted to say something more, but... Couldn't. "The details are unimportant, especially with the upcoming festivities." Spike was about to insist that she could tell him, regardless of what day it was, but the Princess plowed ahead before he could speak. "Speaking of which, do you happen to know if Miss Rarity will be in attendance today? I wanted to ask her opinion on what dyes are most resistant to wear and tear."

The young man pursed his lips, silently wishing he could convey what he felt... Then again, he didn't even grasp what he felt himself. Disappointment, but not in the Princess or himself, rather just the situation as a whole. For as much as Orzel had let him past her defenses, as much as she trusted him, she'd yet to fully let him in. She'd been so close in that moment... Perhaps next time... For now, Spike wasn't inclined to push for details, especially considering all that'd happened in just the past hour and a half. Though the odd sensation was all but dissipated, he still felt as if something was stirring... Changing... Deep down. Gradually he was feeling stronger, more powerful, both physically and mentally. It was a rush he was having trouble keeping in check, let alone attempt to convince Orzel to speak further... So, Spike merely nodded his head at the question, resting his hands in his lap.

"Yes, my Lady, I'm quite certain she'll be here." The young man answered evenly, once again he saw the Princess's face flush. At least that hadn't changed...