Diplomatic Solution

by Starscribe

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Violence, Profanity, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Human, Young Six, Ocellus, Science Fiction
Length: 37670

Equestria joins the galactic community to discover an bloody eternal war. They resolve to find a solution in the pony way: diplomacy. All the Young Six have to do is negotiate an alliance with violent, xenophobic aliens. What could go wrong?

For centuries, the galaxy has burned in an eternal war. Wielding their magical might, the Enti sweep across space, slaughtering and enslaving all they encounter. A loose alliance of the remaining intelligence races, without magic of their own, can barely even slow them down.

Scouting on a remote edge of the galactic rim, humanity discovers a trump card: Equus. This planet overflows with magic, and has a culture inherently friendly and receptive to diplomacy. First contact was made, and soon all of Equus took a giant leap into the space age. Despite their incredible magic, Equestria is a minor power, with very little to offer the war. Instead of giving ships, Equus volunteer their diplomatic aptitude. They can't save the galaxy by force of arms, but maybe they can find the free people of the galaxy some powerful new friends.

Princess Twilight nominates six of her most loyal and trustworthy students to perform this incredible task. Armed with powerful artifacts of protection, they set out to meet with the only powerful neutral party in the war, and win them over to the Stellar Compact.

If they fail, all nonmagical life in the galaxy may be doomed to conquest and death. No pressure, Ocellus.

Cover by Zutcha. Edited by Two Bit and Sparktail
Commissioned by Vilken666 on my Patreon

Published 2022-09-30 16:20:04 UTC
Last updated 2023-01-12 16:00:03 UTC

Chapter 2

Twilight rose in time with the slight jolt of the Celestia’s Grace as they finally settled into place, landing struts extended. The rumble of their engines faded into the distance, and for a moment they were left in silence.

Out the windows all around them, she could see the landing field. A field was exactly what it looked like, with a soft purple grass punctuated with gray flowers. Or… maybe she just didn’t have the right senses to appreciate the color.

“This is the capital of the galaxy?” Rainbow asked, leaning out the window. “I can’t even see any… tech stuff.” Her expression soured. “Wait a minute. Are they not taking us seriously? That alien called us adorable… I’m getting a pattern here.”

But despite Rainbow’s worries, it wasn’t an empty field. Little ships passed by overhead, and though it had looked grassy at first, closer inspection proved a little archway leading into the ground was visible in the near distance, with light shining from within.

“I think it might be luxurious,” Rarity said. “Think of how difficult it must be to keep something alive around all the awful chemicals that pour all over the place wherever starships land. I thought keeping in an atmosphere with such low gravity was difficult… but all this nature would seem like luxury to me too if all I did was see metal. Even if it’s… not our idea of nature.”

“I trust you were expecting creatures to meet you outside,” the computer said. “Because they’re emerging from underground, and seem to be waiting for you.”

“We can criticize their sense of design later,” Twilight said, spinning on her hooves and turning to go. “Computer, have our belongings ready at the boarding dock. We’re going.” She raised a wing, silencing Rarity before she could even say it. “We’re not going right to the signing. We can change and prepare once we’ve met our new friends.”

“Right,” Rarity sighed, but didn’t argue. Soon enough they were following, all five of her friends. Twilight wished briefly that Spike could be here to help—but her loyal dragon had even more important duties holding the fort back home. I hope you’re not as nervous as I am, Spike.

A few minutes later and she emerged from the loading dock, which the waiting assembly of creatures had apparently known they’d be using.

There were a dozen of them in all, mostly the soft, furless creatures called humans. Equestria’s contact with the rest of the universe, and the reason they were entering this world in the first place.

Captain Kalsbe was not human, though, and his avian body had more layers of cloth and fancy-looking uniform than she’d ever seen on a pony. It was more like a dress than anything—but it was wrong of her to make assumptions about cultural expectations.

She didn’t understand him at first—but they were all wearing little earbuds, and the translations came in only seconds later, superimposed in a computery-sounding version of his voice. “Equestrian delegation, it is a pleasure to welcome you to Antioch Prime. The Stellar Compact is eager to formalize our agreement and begin a productive relationship we hope to last for many thousands of years to come.”

Well at least you’re not shortsighted. Then again, considering what she’d seen on the way in, she already knew the Stellar Compact could think ahead.

She stepped forward, wavering briefly as she considered whether or not to offer a hoof to shake. But his species didn’t have forelegs, only their wings and legs, so it didn’t seem to make sense.

The captain didn’t seem to mind though, and he lowered his beak towards the human she’d seen earlier. “My second will assist you with whatever arrangements need to be made prior to tonight’s meeting. Your language, it…” He lowered his voice, and the translator didn’t catch it. But Twilight didn’t need it to, because of the unmistakable word “humans”.

There’s tension even here? Curious.

“That’s me.” A human stepped forward, and this time there was no delay or strangely overplayed words. She did have quite the accent, about the same as she would’ve heard in a dragon. But that was it. “I’m Lieutenant Helen Garnett. Ordinarily I’d suggest using my first name, but I think my last will be easier for you.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Rarity said.

Several of the others added their own introductions before Captain Kalsbe turned to one side. “My Lieutenant will see to your needs from here. I am needed on the Eucharist. Welcome again to Antioch.”

And he left, without waiting for their farewell, or even seeming to care if they heard him. Most of the escort went with him, leaving only Garnett and a few other aliens in similar jumpsuit uniforms. All human, Twilight noticed.

“Your captain seems… nice,” Fluttershy said. “Is he always so…”

Garnett nodded, not making her finish. “One of the first things to understand if you’re going to be working here on Antioch. The creatures of the free galaxy have all evolved under their own distinct cultural frameworks. In the past, the Compact was more of a… well, it’s in the name. A trade compact. Until the Enti discovered us.”

Several of the humans around her shuddered at the name. It was a meaningless jumble of letters to Twilight, but apparently not them. “Will we have quarters somewhere?” Twilight asked. “None of us have had the chance to change for our trip here, or to prepare for the ceremony. We could use our own ship for it if there’s nowhere available.”

Garnett smiled at the suggestion. “Equestria is the brightest star on our horizon since the invasion began. If we couldn’t find you quarters before you signed onto the Compact… we’d be poor hosts. Follow me. And allow my assistants to take your belongings.”

She gestured to another tunnel, one the rest of the Eucharist creatures hadn’t used. “The Earth Commonwealth is offering you space in our section until you’re able to build your own,” she explained. “Don’t worry, I think you’ll find our taste in decor has much in common.” She glanced down at a flower, sighing. “We can’t see ultraviolet either.”

Garnett escorted them through wide tunnels, which were each more in line with what Twilight had been expecting from the interior of an incredibly advanced megastructure. A few steps in and the ground started to move of its own accord, speeding them along in little modular sections.

“Don’t fly,” Garnett cautioned, as Rainbow spread her wings. “The adhesion field won’t let you, for safety reasons. You could get smacked into another group going fifty kilometers an hour the opposite direction.”

Rainbow closed her wings, glaring down at the floor. She lifted one hoof skeptically. “But we can still move.”

“They didn’t share all their technology with us,” Twilight said, before Garnett could be forced to explain. There were priorities. “Getting us into space was more important than… bizarre public transport.” They weren’t being blasted by wind either, though she could see some other creatures passing them on their own little platforms.

Many stared, and only a few looked even remotely friendly.

“It’s not about being unwilling to share it with you,” Garnett said. “Believe me, when it’s us against the Enti, we’re running this cultural exchange at near the speed of light.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially, and somehow Twilight could still hear her despite the rushing of the platform. “It took them two centuries to even entertain letting humanity into the compact, and that was apparently wildly radical at the time. Getting you recognized in a decade… it’s a buckin’ miracle.”

Rarity gasped, and Rainbow actually whistled. “You do speak our language.”

A few moments later and the platform came to a stop, in a cavernous space that nevertheless had made room for carpets and warm orange lights overhead, along with hundreds of humans. They moved in tight crowds, talking and singing and generally engaged with whatever it was that advanced aliens did in a subway platform.

Many turned to stare as Garnett led them through, though even more waved at them. As they reached an elevator platform, some even cheered.

“They seem fun,” Pinkie said, as they left the platform behind. “Are we going to have a party?”

“Obviously,” Garnett said. “We’ve been throwing a party down here for the last decade,ever since your planet was discovered.”

The elevator whirred to a stop, opening into what Twilight might’ve described as “palatial.” Marble pillars held up a ceiling well over their heads, with a wide central space filled with living plants in carefully sculpted boxes. Rooms separated off a central area, which seemed to have several large conference rooms, along with cooking, sanitation, and everything else Equestria might need to run its own little embassy far from home.

The palace had guest-quarters just like this, only… without all the unidentifiable technology everywhere.

“I’m not sure why,” Rainbow said flatly. “I’ve heard what they say about how you humans fight. And all your machines are… I don’t know what the buck half of this stuff does. Obviously you haven’t lost the invasion yet.”

Garnett glanced nervously at her aids, falling silent for a moment. “Leave their belongings and return to the Eucharist,” she instructed. “I won’t require any further assistance until after the signing.”

Finally the door slid shut behind them, and her shoulders seemed to slump a little. “Forgive me, ambassador. I don’t mean to ignore you, but… let me just say that the Compact’s decision to admit you is ‘controversial.’ You… probably didn’t get that impression from any of the humans living on your planet.

“But that’s because we know how desperate things really are. The Commonwealth is the one sacrificing a thousand lives every time the Enti push forward another parsec. Their magic can’t be beaten with every gadget and clever strategy in the universe. The Zecrin won’t help, so until you… no one thought that magical species could even see the rest of us as people. You’re proof that this war isn’t hopeless, and that’s reason to celebrate.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, settling down in one of the nearby cushions. The formal signing was probably only a few hours away, but she hesitated. She could worry about dresses and makeup later, when there was this alien willing to be so open and honest with her. “Should you be telling us all this? The ones you had on Equestria had some strict rules about—”

“Cultural continuity?” Garnett laughed. “Those crusty academics ran the whole world when we were at peace. But we aren’t anymore, so… I’ll tell you anything I can. Which isn’t as much as you’ll know once you’re a formal part of the Compact.” She nodded towards a set of low chairs by one wall, with glass displays in front of each. “You’re Equestria’s representatives on Antioch. Tomorrow morning, you’ll get database credentials to… everything. Why hide things now?”

“Well we could change our minds,” Pinkie said offhand. “Maybe you’re afraid that we’ll find out too much, and we’ll get cold hooves at the last second. If it feels like joining with you might be picking the wrong side in this war, maybe it’s not the right choice for Equestria.”

Garnett shrugged. “If you wanted to help the Enti enslave the galaxy, I don’t think you would’ve made it this far.” She reached down, selecting a little white flower from the pot in front of her, and plucking it. “Equestria has a choice to make. You can support the galaxy’s would-be magical overlords, watching as every other creature has its identity stripped away and its foals brutalized—or you can work with the species who know what ‘friend’ means, and who build worlds you’d want to live on.”

She held out the flower towards Pinkie, expression fierce. “I’ve been studying you ponies since you were discovered. You know what ‘evil’ is, just like we do. And I think you hate it.”

Pinkie leaned forward, taking the flower in her teeth before swallowing it in a few quick bites. “Hmm. Crunchy.”

“We do,” Twilight said, before Garnett could get the wrong idea. “It doesn’t matter how scary these invaders are. We saw the way you acted when you found us, and you could’ve done whatever you wanted to Equestria. We know whose side we’re on.”

The translator grinned back. “Good. We deathworlders should stick together.”

Chapter 3

It happened less than two hours later.

Twilight and her friends weren’t anywhere close to being done being amazed by impossible-seeming structures that the Compact had built, at least not until they saw the council chamber.

It seemed to be suspended in space itself, below the massive chunk of not-planet and yet not quite severed from it. The chamber itself was easily as large as all Canterlot Castle, with shimmering protective fields that they were told were not magic.

“Magic lets you do some things we can’t,” Garnett explained, as they stepped out of the elevator onto a mostly empty floor of black stone. Black, and polished so bright that it reflected the stars from all around, and the chunk of planet overhead. “I’ve seen a unicorn make an atmo-bubble as hard as transparent aluminum, that you could touch like a wall.”

“It doesn’t seem that different than most shields,” Rarity said casually. “Just… larger. Perhaps a tad weak, judging by the color. And… I can’t say it isn’t a little disconcerting not to sense the spell. Or understand the gravity we’re feeling.”

“Well, it isn’t magic. And if you touch it, it’ll probably burn your fur and skin like paper. There’s a coating you can put on suits to pass through it no problem, but… just stay away from the edges.”

She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Blame the Venetus for this. They needed to make a big show long before any humans got here. Half of this space is just to accommodate those water-spheres so they can watch. As for me--being out in space like this just freaks me the hell out.”

“You can say that again,” Rainbow agreed. “A sky full of broken planet instead of sun. I’m gonna have nightmares about cloud busting this place.”

On they went, into a dense crowd of waiting dignitaries of many races. Twilight took them all in, trying to remember what she could about each one. The Stellar Compact was known to have many members, but the Compact hadn’t discovered them. Humans had, and almost all the contact Equestria had with the outside went through them. These other races had just been entries in textbooks to her until now.

There were more of the birdlike aliens, and other creatures that oozed their way along. Massive, hulking brutes, and more still.

“I thought humans were newer members,” she muttered, hoping that the size of the crowd would keep their conversation from behind overheard. “Half the creatures in this room look like you.”

Garnett laughed cheerfully. “Save the galaxy and that’ll happen. We’re not the cleverest, our tech isn’t the best, and our art might not be the most interesting. But when there’s terrible evil rampaging across the galaxy, all the science in the world won’t save you if your ships don’t have pilots brave enough to go into battle. Or explorers daring enough to venture out into the unknown, and make friends with aliens no one ever imagined.”

Stadium seating ran around the edges of the vast space, and little signs floated in the air over each chair. Through some strange magic—or technology, anyway—they got bigger when she looked, making each name and office legible to her, then fading again when she looked away.

But their group wasn’t bound for the benches. Instead they went all the way to the bottom, where several little islands hovered in empty air, apparently unsupported.

Twilight wouldn’t have questioned how this was done in Equestria—she could probably draft a few spells to do it in her sleep. But knowing that no magic had been used was strange enough to pique her curiosity.

She didn’t ask now, though, not with so much attention on them. They stepped onto another moving floor, that took them around to the island with a dozen or so humans on it.

The ground itself was a little like the cutie map, a little image of familiar mountains and rivers and plains. Elevated chairs were scattered around the edges of the round space, so that the creatures sitting here could look around at the other islands and the crowd high above.

Are we signing a treaty, or being judged?

The other islands were structured the same way, with what appeared to be recreations of the environments of the creatures who lived there depicted in light.

There were only four islands—the other races part of the compact apparently weren’t important enough to warrant inclusion.

“You can all sit here,” Garnett said, leading them to a table that was mercifully far from the precipice. Twilight wouldn’t have to have any nightmares about losing her non-winged friends today. “The treaty is there, feel free to look it over if you think we might’ve made any changes.”

“Did you?” Applejack asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not!” Garnett said. A few of the watching dignitaries in their suits gasped, or just looked uncomfortable at the prospect. “We had a formal version created that read exactly as we negotiated with your princesses.”

Twilight waited a moment as Applejack sized her up. Finally the farmpony tilted her hat. Well—it was the same shape, only this one was white, with a few gemstones around the rim. A “formal” hat. “She’s tellin’ the truth.”

“I would hope so,” Pinkie said cheerfully. “We wouldn’t want to make promises with creatures that are going to lie to us. Then maybe we would’ve picked the wrong side.”

Finally they sat down, and the dull roar of conversation from all sides faded. Twilight found herself wishing she’d asked to have Garnett explain all this again to refresh her memory—but it was too late now.

The ceremony took well over three hours, a performance of ancient ritual that was in its way more complex than the Summer Sun Celebration. There was a formal parade around the outside of the island, a recitation of the Compact’s history, and even several breaks for refreshments.

Eventually the pomp and circumstance faded into the background, and attention seemed to zero-in on them again.

Throughout the ceremony, a single booming voice led the ritual, speaking in dozens of languages simultaneously yet somehow remaining perfectly clear to her.

“Before the security council offers their signatures, and before Equus does likewise, ceremony requires that any elected here be permitted to offer objections.”

Only Rainbow could be crass enough to interrupt something this important, even if it was just a covert whisper to Garnett. But Twilight was glad she had, once she heard what her friend had to say. “What’s the point of all this? I thought we were already in? Isn’t it a done deal?”

Garnett nodded, her face pale as she whispered back. “This would only matter if the other security council members hadn’t already made up their minds. There’s nothing anyone can say to convince us to back out, or the others. Even the creatures who don’t like ponies much aren’t going to argue. We’re sponsoring you, and they want our ships protecting their worlds.”

Twilight winced at the implication. A harsh web of alliances and secret oaths seemed to have brought them this far. A part of her balked at any knowledge that the usual order had been violated on their part. But a stronger part realized just how dire the situation was. The Compact needed Equestria if it wanted to stop the Enti.

She’d lost whatever the voice had said, but it seemed to fade back in as soon as she started listening again. “The council recognizes one representative from… religious organization Zero Point. As you represent a single seat, you may have one minute.”

Light shone suddenly on a single chair in the huge crowd of watching creatures. To her shock, it was a human face, though their skin looked a little darker than Garnett’s. Not only that, but they dressed in strange robes, and an oversized hat covered in symbols.

“Zero Point wishes to remind the galaxy of this obvious truth: that every act of ‘magic’ done across all of space invokes the possibility of a runaway collapse from which no life will survive. The Enti invoke it, the Zecrin invoke it, and now we learn of another race who invoke it as well.

“There are already two races putting the very existence of the universe at risk. This third is weak enough that it can be altered humanely. Uplifting them was blasphemy, and allowing them to continue is sacrilege. Do something, for the sake of your children.”

He sat back down, as though he hadn’t just casually suggested the alliance commit heinous evil to her whole planet. Twilight’s nostrils flared, and her wings opened and closed—but compared to Rainbow, she was a little saint.

“What the buck was that?” she asked Garnett, not even trying to keep her voice down. It didn’t matter, half the room had started shouting. Or… maybe debating? All the overlapping translations made it impossible to tell. “Is that one of you arguing to invade us?”

Garnett raised a defensive hand to Rainbow, hovering as she was just inches away. There were no guards up here, no soldiers—but several of the other humans in their fancy suits and dresses moved a little closer, maybe to intervene.

“He has nothing to do with us,” Garnett said. “Those backwards assholes in Zero Point are barely even a billion people across the entire Compact. They think all magic is inviting a vacuum energy collapse that’s going to destroy the universe. They’re a doomsday cult, but when the ones murdering and enslaving everyone are magical, well… you get a few sympathetic ears.”

“But none of ours,” said a voice from beside them. Another female, though she was far older-looking than Garnett. Her face was wrinkled, but underneath her suit she still seemed muscular and confident. A princess, maybe? Or just another diplomat. “Have no fear, Equestrians. The Compact may allow freedom of religion, but the navy follows its orders.”

“I don’t much like that anypony could say a thing like that,” Applejack said. “Even if… a billion ain’t much to you, or whatever. Little idea today might be a big one tomorrow.”

“We understand your concern,” the woman said, without skipping a beat. “So think about the way we’ve acted. We publish the best data we can, but we can’t change every mind. That’s why we’re helping Equestria be prepared. We’re giving you every weapon you’re capable of understanding, every technology. Nothing could be a clearer sign of our feelings for you than that.”

“That is the final objection,” said the strange voice, suddenly silencing everyone. Twilight winced, wishing she’d paid a little more attention. She’d been so upset by that first argument she missed all the others. “Every representative has been thus heard. The council renders their verdict.”

From the other side of their little island, a figure rose, stepping forward faster than anyone else could. “Earth renews its sponsorship,” he said. “Humanity welcomes Equus in friendship.”

The translation took a moment to make its way through Twilight’s headset, but she didn’t even need it. She could hear the human’s positivity before his words reached her.

It’s a good thing their faction found us first, and not the ones that think magic is evil. This ambassador thing might not be as easy as I thought.

“Aerie renews its acceptance,” said a female voice. “With reservations.”

“Amalgam seconds Earth and welcomes Equus in friendship,” said another voice, reverberating strangely even with the translator.

The invisible leader of their ceremony didn’t wait a second. There were a few objections from the crowd, a few angry voices. But it didn’t seem to care.

“The Stellar Compact has determined to accept Equus and all its member species as associate members. Should it survive probation, it may elect a member to the security council in one year’s time.”

Okay, maybe your translation isn’t as perfect as I thought. Survive probably wasn’t the word you were looking for.

A spotlight suddenly shone down on them, and she could feel thousands of eyes all focusing. Twilight leaned forward, lifting a pen in her magic. She’d prepared for this moment, even though it would only be brief.

“Equus is honored for your welcome,” she said. Without any effort on her part, her voice boomed through the room, strangely stretched and compressed as it was translated. From the sound of it, poorly. “We regret that our arrival has come at a time of such darkness. But by working together in friendship, we hope to bring a swift end to that fear, and a return of peace for thousands of years to come.”

It didn’t seem to matter if the translation was working right. The humans nearby started doing something, hitting their hands together in a loud, repetitive sound. It spread through the room, and might’ve frightened her, except for the roaring cheers that joined in from further out, the shouts of praise.

A thousand cameras flashed in their directions as they signed the treaty, and the whole galaxy trembled.

Chapter 4

As far as Twilight had believed, all the hard work would end as soon as they signed the treaty and settled in as proper members of the Stellar Compact. Everything would be perfect from then on: the Enti would probably surrender the instant they heard about it, since they were so terrified about the new alliance. The conquering warlords would return to their domain, and all the galaxy would be safe and peaceful forever. It would be perfect.

Unfortunately for her, that reality existed only in her imagination, and perhaps the other signatories’ during the next few hours. They spent that time together, discussing all the amazing things the alliance would achieve. She could see a little of that future in the conversations she overheard between her friends and the other assembled creatures. Equestria would send ponies to train in the human naval academy, and this race or that would build an embassy on Equus as soon as ponies told them where to put it. Those were only the beginning of the good ideas.

Her first hint that something might be going wrong came from a conversation no different than so many others: a strangely dressed dignitary who approached Twilight's corner of the party hall with a friendly smile. She probably should've realized something was amiss from her oversized yellow robes, flowing in layers with little red thread connecting them all. But in all her time on Antioch, she'd met so many friendly humans that she had begun to disbelieve that anything else even existed.

"So you're the newest member of the compact," the stranger said, sipping delicately at a small glass of tea. Like all the food she'd seen from humans so far, it smelled remarkably good, strong with just a hint of citrus. But there was a reason the humans had been the ones to get along with them, and the ones to cater the meal. She could only imagine what that thick paste the divensons were eating would taste like. "How do you feel?"

"Ready to win a war," Twilight said. It was a little weird not to get an introduction from this stranger, when so many others were eager for her to know them. Strange enough that she glanced around once, just to see where her friends might be hiding, just in case she needed somepony else to back her up.

She could see only Pinkie nearby, sitting at a table with... five guards? They'd settled their gun-belts over their chairs, and there were rows of little glasses in front of them. Pinkie, are you having a drinking contest? Despite her size, the earth pony mare seemed to be winning. Of the ones at the table, only the human and divenson were still in the running.

Twilight looked back, ears flattening. She shouldn’t let herself get distracted when she was on official business. "Well, hopefully to negotiate a peaceful end to the war. I know how bad things look, but... in Equestria, we've rarely encountered any problem that can't be solved with understanding. Now that the compact has a race the Zecrin will be willing to talk to, we're confident we can make that happen."

"Assuming any of us live that long," the woman said. Her tone remained surprisingly neutral, even as she said things that could've been screamed by a vicious enemy. "The ones who made the decision to contact Equestria instead of subduing it betrayed all humankind. I hope we survive long enough for them to be executed for treason."

"W-what?" Twilight jerked slightly in her seat, dropping the fork she was levitating. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you're not to blame," she went on. "We don't hate you, or any other magical creature. It's a common myth, you see. That everyone in the Zero Point just hate every magic user because of what you do. That's a simple lie, used to discredit the important message we preach." She settled her cup of tea gently on the table across from Twilight, pulling over a chair. But apparently none of the guards had noticed, because nopony made to stop her.

"We don't blame you for your evolution. Evolution is a stupid thing, really. Life on many worlds develops for years down a path that will doom itself. Do you know, the same nearly happened on our planet? In time more ancient than comprehension, plants evolved. Their ability to photosynthesize fixed carbon dioxide from the air into their own bodies, forming hard stems. But they were so new, nothing existed to recycle this material back into the environment, so levels of Co2 in the atmosphere plummeted. The planet began to cool, and there was a dearth of raw materials for new plants to use. If no new scavenger had evolved to decompose these new corpses, and eventually to eat living plants... my kind would not exist, and the galaxy would already be enslaved."

Twilight remained in her seat, trying and mostly succeeding to conceal her annoyance. She probably would've been fascinated by this little piece of history, if it wasn't for the way this woman had begun her conversation. Implying that humans should've... what, done to Equestria what the Enti were doing to everyone else? "Who are you?" Twilight demanded, no longer even pretending to her deference and politeness. She felt no need to be, with a creature who approached harmony with open contempt.

"I am Confessor Dali," she said. "Zero Point's highest confessor. I represent a billion believers all over the galaxy." Which sounds like a lot, until I remember that there are much more than a trillion citizens in this compact. That might be everypony living on Equus, but it isn't very many out here. The galaxy doesn't hate Equestria. "But since the galaxy has refused to hear our persuasion, I turn to you in desperation."

She leaned forward, stealing the napkin from beside Twilight's utensils, and balancing it over her teacup. "I suppose you must take magic for granted. You imagine that it is a natural process, in harmony with your world. This is only because you don't understand it. You can't, you lack the necessary technology. But we're at war with a magical species. The Enti have used their incredible powers to defeat the fleets of all races but humanity. We defeated them not with superior technology, but simple tenacity. The Enti had never encountered a foe who were willing to die by the millions to protect their home.

"In our war, we haven't discovered a way to give these powers to other races, thank God. What we have discovered is a way to observe magic in action. This is what we can see." She touched a few fingers on the napkin, pushing downward just a little. Nothing happened. "Every time one of you invokes your abilities, you interact with the fundamental structure of the universe in a way that no other creatures can. To... simplify for your primitive grasp of science, imagine a field that permeates all space, upon which the laws of physics themselves are balanced. We imagine it is balanced, yet it is not. A billion billion spells might pass with no impact on this field—yet eventually, one will agitate it just a little too much."

She jammed her finger down into the tea. Her napkin soaked in seconds, wicking fluid up the sides and staining the tablecloth. "Once it begins, vacuum decay will accelerate in all directions at the speed of light, utterly annihilating all matter that it comes in contact with. Your kind, or the Enti, or the Zecrin will initiate the end of all life not just in the galaxy, but in all the gravitationally-bound universe."

Twilight glared across the table at Dali. She smiled as politely as she could, lifting her fork in her magic and taking a slow, deliberate bite of a tiny cake. She could see Dali's face twitch once, her eyes never leaving the fork. Maybe she thought she would catch on fire right now, or explode. It sounded about as likely.

Twilight finished chewing before she said anything, taking her time. "I'm sure you're well-informed, Dali. And maybe some of what you're saying is true. But while observing magic might be something new to you, it's been part of our culture for thousands of years. We've been able to see the effects of magic and its interactions with fundamental particles. I could illustrate them for you right here, with the right reagents. What you fear will not happen. Magic is not safe, I couldn't say that any more than I could say that fire was safe, or electricity. But it is not inherently destructive. The other members of the Compact understand that the danger of magic comes not from its nature, but from its wielders. Why can't you?" Twilight was a princess of Equestria, she could manage a smile just as perfect as Dali's, without even a hint of flinching.

The human rose from her seat, lowering her head respectfully. "Forgive me for wasting your time, Equestrian. I hoped that this difference could be resolved peacefully. But I see there is nothing I can do. Know this—the universe has existed all this time not through happenstance, but because it is inherently self-regulating. You and other creatures like you are a threat. It will find some way to neutralize that threat."

She turned, and vanished into the crowd. Twilight spent the next few hours wondering just how Dali’s statements would manifest. But there were no attempts made on her life at any point during the party.

Eventually the party had run its course, and its many creatures began to disperse. Twilight and the others joined with an escort of human marines near the back of the vast parlor, and found Garnett waiting for them. When this is over, we're getting royal guards from the Celestia’s Grace to do this. We can't keep depending on these other races for everything when we're full members of the Compact ourselves.

"Did you enjoy the party?" Garnett asked, as the luxury transport's cargo hatch closed behind them, and they went speeding away into Antioch's depths. "I hope the food was good. We had several Equestrian chefs flown in to advise the entire menu. Gustav Le Grand, maybe you've heard of him?"

Pinkie nodded eagerly. "Really? I thought that chocolate fondue tasted familiar!" She reached up, licking the edge of one of her hooves. "Yeah, I didn't imagine it! That was Gustav le Grand all right."

"I didn't know many citizens of Equus had gone so far from the planet yet," Rarity said conversationally, settling into her padded seat. The space was just like every one they'd been in so far: expensive and comfortable. They were being treated like royalty at every moment. In fairness, that wasn't exactly new to her. "I might have to think of a little entrepreneurial expansion of my own. A galaxy so full of creatures who wear clothing is just begging for a few new voices. Anything to give creatures something more pleasant to think of than a constant war."

Rainbow responded with her usual tact. "That's great Rarity. But did any of you get someone really weird telling you how evil it is that ponies use magic?" She removed the bright paper party hat that she was wearing, expression solemn. "I didn't get what they were talking about, but I don't like creatures telling me I did something wrong when I didn't. I make enough mistakes that are my fault that I don't need any more, you know?"

"Yeah, actually," Fluttershy said. "I wasn't sure what she meant at first, but I'm pretty sure she was trying to tell me that magic was... bad? I think that's what she meant. Twilight would've understood it more I'm sure."

Garnett nodded, looking frustrated. "The mad confessor with that stupid bullshit again." She winced. "Err... forgive my language, ambassadors. I know you're sensitive about that."

"I've never heard that expression," Twilight said. "But somehow I agree with you. There was... some discussion in Equestria about this. We knew that not every creature in the galaxy would welcome us at first. The responsibility to change their minds is ultimately ours."

"You don't have to do that," Garnett snapped. So fast that Twilight wondered if she'd been waiting for it this entire time. "You're already the first magical ally we've ever known. Your abilities are enough, we don't expect anything else from you."

"And that's why we're going to deliver," Twilight said. "Not today, maybe. But soon. Instead of your only magical ally, we're going to make it so the Enti are your only magical enemy."

Garnett's eyebrows went up. None of her friends seemed to know what she was talking about, or they were too smashed from the party to even listen. Not that it was a concern for Twilight—Alicorns resisted poisons, and her body apparently included alcohol in that category. "The Zecrin aren't going to join the Compact. They won't let our ships anywhere near their space. And since we're not interested in a war on two fronts, we haven't pressed that boundary. But before we deciphered their language, we lost ships in Dracos. It's not safe."

Twilight smiled. "That's what makes it a perfect challenge for Equestria. In fact, some of our best creatures are already on their way. As soon as they hear we're members of the Compact, they'll go to work. It's time to change some minds."

Chapter 5

In retrospect, Silverstream thought they probably should’ve just flown up to the border station and asked for permission. But she wasn’t the Fortuna’s captain, and anyway Gallus had seemed so sure they could just land…

Now they were learning the hard way that he’d been a little too optimistic.

The bridge of the Fortuna used the same modified human design as all of Equestria’s starships (all two of them), with a round section of stations around the captain’s chair in the middle, and the far wall an embedded screen that usually pretended to be a window. Of course it was at the center of the ship, to her great annoyance. Silverstream wished they’d just put in a real window.

The Fortuna rocked again, rattling and shaking slightly. “Computer is reading that as a non-causal gravity projection!” Ocellus yelled over the alarms, her wings buzzing through the openings in her suit. She hovered in the air rather than using the seat, which was great considering how much they were shaking.

“I think that just means levitation!” Sandbar paced nervously back and forth, wearing his medical saddlebags and apparently just waiting for something to explode. So far nothing had, but they’d been showered with sparks a few times. How much power ran through those human control consoles, anyway? “That’s what humans call unicorn magic!”

“I don’t care what they call it!” Gallus yelled. “We need communications or they’re going to blow us up!”

All eyes settled on Silverstream, and her ears flattened with nervous fear. She was communications, their lead diplomat on a team of diplomats. Also her claws were good at working human computers, which was why she had a seat of her own. Yona and Sandbar just had to ask for help when they needed it.

“Uh, we…” The screen displayed a graphical representation of the electromagnetic spectrum, something she barely even understood. But after a few seconds of analysis, it highlighted a few slices as “likely communication”. “I think this might be it!” She selected the largest of these, and put it on over the speakers.

A voice speaking in badly accented English came on over the speakers, rumbling through the ship. “Human vessel, you have violated our space. Your ship will be impounded, and your crew will be imprisoned. Do not resist, or you will be destroyed. Human vessel, you have violated our space. Do not—”

“What the buck are they saying?” Gallus asked, glaring at her. She wasn’t just at the comms console, but she was also one of the two members of their group who could speak the human language. Ocellus was the other one, as gifted with language as most of her kind.

She translated quickly.

“We know this already,” Yona declared, stomping one hoof into the deck in front of her weapons console. There were several large dents already, enough that she’d torn through the carpet. “This is why no one come here, yes? Zecrin are… not neighborly lizards.”

“They think we’re human and they want to…” Gallus’s claws shook on the controls. “Alright, uh… Silverstream, can you… tell them we’re not human? Please?”

She nodded, lowering her head to the microphone. From the window in front of her, she could see the massive defense station growing larger all the time. So far as she could tell the planet only had one, a single gigantic cube that seemed to flicker and glow with magic, its sections shifting and overlapping and stretching into dimensions of space that hurt her eyes. Like one of Headmare Starlight’s most ambitious experiments, but grown to gigantic size.

“Zecrin… station,” she said. “We are not a human ship. This is the ESS Fortuna. We’ve come as envoys from… your magical neighbors. We heard you… welcome visitors like us.”

The English warning stopped abruptly, going silent in the middle of a word. Yet the Fortuna kept vibrating, dragged closer and closer to the station’s yawning maw.

“It’s not working!” Gallus called. “Maybe try Ponish?”

Ocellus landed, fumbling with the buttons for a moment in her magic. “There’s, uh… there’s something changing. I think—”

They jerked to the side, so abruptly that everything that wasn’t nailed down smashed forward. That included Silverstream herself, who smacked into her console hard enough to briefly daze her. “Ugh…”

When the world returned a moment later, she could hear another voice. Not the repeating, automated tone. “Equestrian vessel ESS Fortuna, please confirm the information you provided. Zecrin high code requires that no nonmagical being be present in our space. Only ensouled beings of significance may visit our homeworld. If you misrepresent your status to us, your ship and all aboard will be destroyed in retribution.”

Still English, still heavily accented, though this time the speaker was higher and more feminine. “There are only Equestrians aboard,” Silverstream answered. “We learned how to build our ships from humans, but there are no humans here. This is our mission, not theirs.”

There was another long silence. The shaking didn’t resume, and the station’s gigantic magical projection didn’t reach out to yank them in. She translated what she’d said for everypony who didn’t know, then sat back and waited.

It felt like she was waiting forever before the answer finally came. “I’ve sent a landing vector using human-standard guidance protocols your computer should accept. If you still wish to land, you are welcome to touch down on our Homeworld. Otherwise, you may turn the way you came and leave in peace.

“But if you elect to land, your vessel will be searched. The penalty for sacrilege will be the total destruction of all aboard. So be certain of your decision before you land. Beacon of Serenity out.”

The channel clicked, and Silverstream switched off the microphone for good measure. Then she laughed, feeling the relief settle over her. It really was that easy—the Zecrin just didn’t like creatures that couldn’t use magic. It was just like their new friends said. But will the Zecrin be our friends when this is over, or are we all just wasting our time?

She translated that message, feeling the weight lifting from her shoulders. The pressure on her would be over, at least for the short term. If they don’t speak Ponish down there, I’ll be translating a lot more. But that was a problem they could face when they landed.

“Yona is not sure we want to talk to them after all.” She glowered through the fake window out into the void, at the much-closer cube that was apparently called the Beacon of Serenity. “They attack us without even saying anything. Yona thinks they not very good friends.”

“We already knew they were going to act this way,” Ocellus said. “I was hoping they’d talk first, but… at least they didn’t shoot. Now they know we’re magical like them, it should be easy.”

“Are we?” Gallus asked. “I mean… I know you ponies have your tribes… Ocellus is obvious, and you too Silverstream. But what about Yona and me? Did any creature ask what they’d think of us?”

There was another uncomfortable silence, though this one didn’t last as long as before. Ocellus finally cleared her throat, getting their attention. “Twilight explained this to me when she was briefing us for the mission. All creatures who live on Equus rely on magic. Even the ones who don’t have overt magical abilities. All the Zecrin care about is that we have magic like they do.”

“Okay, but… why?” Sandbar asked. “Why does it matter so much? They threatened to kill us, didn’t they?”

Silverstream raised a wing. “I know that one! The Zecrin are a… theocracy. They think that magical creatures have souls, and free will, and… ‘moral agency.’ Everything else in the universe is a… a machine, yeah. The Stellar Compact wanted us to be smart to join. The Zecrin want us to be magic for us to get close to them. Which is why they… aren’t stopping the Enti from taking over the universe. So far as they’re concerned, it’s a race of people using the machines around them, that’s all.”

“Yona is still not convinced. That not sound like friendly creatures. Maybe we should leave like they say.”

Gallus straightened in his chair, returning one claw to his controls. “No, not today. We’re on a mission, and we’re going to complete it. The Compact needs to know how much we can do together, or… something. Princess Twilight said it was important, we can’t give up just because they’re not friendly.”

“I’ll send you the direction,” Silverstream said. “If you just fly this way…”

A tiny projection appeared in the air in front of Gallus, the path they were supposed to fly. He touched a few buttons in front of him, and then they started to move. Much more gracefully than before, without the sound of the engine tearing them apart that had roared all around them when they tried to pull away from the Beacon of Serenity.

No creature questioned him, despite Yona’s initial objections. They had all seen the horrors of the Enti invasion. Their human friends had made sure Equestria knew what it was getting into.

As the planet grew wider in their view, Silverstream could make out more and more of the way it looked. And probably more than any human has ever seen and survived. Even if we don’t win them to our side, we’ll probably still make a difference for the Stellar Compact if we can get out of here alive.

They’d been well prepared for this trip, or as much as Equestria could prepare them. But while they simply didn’t have the martial strength of the humans or the engineering of the Aljongs, what they did have was magic.

Tucked inside the Fortuna’s innermost vault were six objects, each one a kind of sacred in their own right. It was only with this specific crew could they each be brought, since each one of them represented an inheritor to their power.

They might not need them. Silverstream certainly hoped they didn’t. Maybe it would be as easy as a conversation, and everything would be friendly between their races forever. It was worth hoping for.

As they got lower, Silverstream began to squint at the screen, unsure if what she was seeing was real. A thick layer of ice covered the planet near its poles, but they were headed towards the equatorial region. She could make out no cities, only an endless curtain of purple. At first she thought it must be a continent-spanning Arcology, like the pictures she’d seen of the human homeworld.

But as they closed in on a landing zone, she could see they were actually trees—brown wood, but thick purple leaves, accented with flowers of green and blue.

Apparently Gallus was thinking the same thing she was as they neared their landing site—a clearing of heavy gravel with different colored stones spelling their letter. Even Equestria had the technology to pave their runways. “Are we sure we can walk around out there?” he asked. “That doesn’t look very much like Equestria to me.”

“Yes,” Ocellus said. “Their atmosphere is oxygen, and I’m not getting anything dangerous on these sensors here…” She trailed off for a moment, flushing red. “But there are some scans here of the envoy they sent to the Stellar Compact a few centuries ago. Apparently they’re… biologically incompatible with us. So don’t eat anything,and don’t, uh… harvest any love.”

That expression doesn’t make sense when you say it about us, Silverstream thought, annoyed. But then the Fortuna finally settled to a stop, its landing stilts extended. It looked just like jungle out there, without so much as the light of a building in view.

Then they came. They swarmed from the jungle all around them, creatures so fast and dark-colored that she might’ve thought they were a pack of wild animals, and not the ones they’d come to meet with in the first place.

They looked a little like adolescent dragons, bipedal with a single set of manipulating limbs. But they had long tails to let them lope rather than walk, and they all lacked wings. “Those sure are, uh… some sharp looking teeth they have.”

The communicator buzzed, and Silverstream reached forward to press it reflexively. A voice spoke, deeper than the last one, and harsher. “Open your vessel, visitors, or we will open it for you. You will now be boarded and searched.”

“Do it,” Gallus said, slumping back into his seat. “Time to see if Twilight was right. Nothing we can do about it now.”

Chapter 6

Ocellus watched nervously out the sides of the ship's windows. They'd been sitting on the landing pad for over an hour, watching as the strange aliens paced around them. Of course, in her last few years at Twilight's School of Friendship and Naval Academy, Ocellus had seen her fair share of other races. Most common were the human beings who had made first contact with Equestria shortly after the failed changeling invasion. But they had images transmitted of other species. Yet none resembled these creatures.

If anything, they were something she might see in the Badlands, or perhaps during an ill-fated expedition into the Everfree Forest. Like humans, they wore too much clothing, though there was far less. Unlike humans, who could lounge casually around a room, these creatures always seemed in active motion, constantly leaning forward with claws exposed. If ever she had wondered how difficult it could be on two legs, now she saw that in action.

Yet these creatures never fell. Their balance was perfect, and it kept their mouths forward, with sharp teeth glittering in the jungle sun. As to what they must be doing outside on the landing platform, she couldn't be sure. She saw no sign of technicians, only some wearing heavy robes and carrying strange staves that smoked and billowed as they moved back and forth.

But then, the entire point of these creatures was their magical nature. Perhaps these were the equivalent of Zecrin unicorns, using spells to analyze the ship. "Yona is not happy with this delay," she said, for the third or fourth time now. Ocellus had given up keeping track. "It is very rude to keep visitors waiting like this."

Gallus rolled his eyes. He'd remained near the window, a sword resting on his shoulder as though he would spring forward and defend the ship should they be attacked. "The humans said that Zecrin kill anyone who enters their space," he said. "I don't think they're concerned with being friends."

"And why do we want to be their friends again?" Sandbar asked. "Don't tell Twilight I said that."

Ocellus groaned, but it was just like Sandbar not to remember. He wasn't exactly one for politics. "The galaxy is facing a magical enemy in the Enti," she explained. "Their magic gives them a decisive advantage, even though they are vastly outnumbered by everyone else. Equestria will be providing help to the rest of the galaxy. But there's only one planet of us, and we are not very many. If the Enti discovered where we lived, they could capture or kill us. But the Zecrin must realize that once the Enti finish with easier targets, they will be conquered as well. What little we know, we have to persuade them to put their religion aside long enough to work with the rest of the galaxy. Until we got here, the Stellar Compact didn't have anyone they were willing to talk to."

"And why do we think it will be different this time?" Silverstream asked. "They hate everyone for not having magic, don't they? Humanity? Humans aren't going to get magic just because they have us on their ships."

Ocellus winced. Of course, this was the weakest part of their plan. "It's not about getting them to like the Stellar Compact," she said. "We just need someone to convince them that they're better off making allies who will leave them alone than waiting for their enemy to conquer the rest of the galaxy and finally notice them here."

"Oh," Silverstream said.

At the same moment, the radio hissed with an incoming message. They'd left the channel open, but for this entire time no one had used it. Now a voice spoke, different from the one who had spoken to them on the defense platform. "Equestrian ship Fortuna, our external evaluation of your vessel is complete. We can verify it was not manufactured on any human world. Please open your ship and submit to inspection. All must step forward and relinquish any weapons they carry. If you are who you say you are, and you are not harboring fugitives, you will be welcomed as honored guests into the sacred palace. If you have lied, you will be ritually executed for this violation of our space. You have one minute to comply."

Ocellus buzzed over to the controls pressing the transmit button. "One moment while we open our ship." She switched off the radio, then turned back to her friends. "Well, here we go. Let's hope this goes better than it did for any of the human diplomats."

"They seem so friendly," Gallus said, exasperated. "I can't imagine why things didn't go well." Even so, he lowered the sword down onto the deck in front of him.

Ocellus led the way to the central airlock, taking each step slowly. Back in Equestria, she never would have imagined a peaceful messenger being harmed. It would have been unthinkable to do anything other than refuse them, if diplomacy wasn't desired. Yet these strange aliens openly threatened their lives. It's a good thing it was humans who found us and not them, she thought. Then she straightened. Officially there was no leader of this expedition, her friends were all equals. Unofficially, she was their best bet at understanding alien cultures. And she was reasonably certain the success of this mission would fall on her shoulders.

"Okay everyone, don't do anything unfriendly, even if they deserve it."

Gallus and Yona both groaned in unison at this order. Smolder, who had barely even been paying attention, looked up from her seat near the exit. "I'll stand behind them," she said. “If they try to hurt anyone, I'll burn them. I don't care how fancy their technology is, those aren't dragon scales. They'll burn."

Ocellus smashed one hoof on the airlock control. A second later, the computer spoke, it's voice neutral and human accented. "Breathable atmosphere detected. No airborne contaminants detected. Engaging cycle." There was a loud hissing sound, and finally the door opened.

Ocellus stepped through to the other side, then made her way straight to the controls for the loading ramp and pressed it. The sound of metal grinding and servos whirring filled the air, and slowly the ramp descended. As it did, Ocellus took her first look at an alien world.

It resembled what she'd seen from above; huge trees and a vast jungle that favored purple foliage over green. There was something strangely beautiful in the way it caught the sunlight. Bioluminescence, perhaps. She found herself instantly curious about the animals that might live here and what it would feel like to try and copy something with alien magic. She could feel the magic of the place as well, but more powerfully, the anger and suspicion from the creatures just in front of her, snapping her back to reality.

There were four of them in total, each wearing no armor. Instead, they had strange silvery robes, one held a metal rod in its claw, ending in a smoking censer. It waved through the air, pronouncing a strange prayer in a language she did not understand. They looked at one another, apparently as shocked to see her as she was to take in their appearance up close. There was no mistaking their predatory nature. This expedition would be no different than traveling among dragons. It remained to be seen which was more aggressive. Though if dragons could be taught friendship, perhaps these alien Zecrin could learn as well.

Finally, the one with the censer stepped forward pointing vaguely in her direction. "You are not human," they said. "This was no strange deception or misguided mechanical attempt at communication. You have a soul."

Ocellus blinked, taking in the words. Somehow they were in perfect Equestrian. If anything, they bore the accents of the deep earth, as might've been spoken by her changeling companions. She recognized what this must be, even if she lacked the magical aptitude to know it for herself: this was a translation spell.

She nodded then stepped slightly to one side. "My name is Ocellus. I was sent by the planet of Equus. It is an honor to visit your world. Please come in to meet my friends. We have known only humans so far since discovering the stars. We are excited to meet others who use magic as we do.

The reptilian creatures shared a look. She could not even begin to read their expressions. But Ocellus was a changeling, and didn't need to. The suspicion was still there, but she sensed the beginning of something. It was tempered now with curiosity. Maybe this mission isn't helpless after all, she thought.

"My name is Ha’luu,” said the lead creature. "Welcome to Kavaal. These inquisitors will inspect your ship."

Ocellus nodded, and the three remaining creatures hurried past her. She was tempted to follow them inside, just in case her presence kept the more hostile members of her own group from getting too offended by the unfriendly behavior of these reptiles. She resisted, stepping slowly down the ramp. She hesitated as she reached the bottom, looking down at the landing platform. It was covered in thick black stone, not the poured asphalt used by humans in their hurry to construct infrastructure on Equestria. The ground here had been intricately carved from the rock itself and bore swirling religious patterns.

She wanted to take off and appreciate them from the air. But this was not merely a cultural exchange. Keep a level head Ocellus, she thought. We're here to save the galaxy.

"It is strange you would choose to tolerate the mechanical presence of others on your world," said Ha'luu. "Our information suggests that the species of mammals called humans have been interfering with you. Why did you not destroy them? We know you are led by powerful divine spell casters. Surely you could have swatted their ships from your orbit."

Ocellus gaped at the question. So it seemed the Zecrin had more information than anyone thought. They were isolated here in this corner of the galaxy, yet they understood what had happened in Equestrian space. She shivered at the idea that they might know where to find them and that a third threat might come to her world.

"Equestria believes in friendship before all other things," she said. "Even for those who are not like us."

The priest grunted at her response, but didn't argue further.

One by one, her friends stepped out of the platform after her, looking somewhat shaken. Yet she heard no sign of combat as they emerged. Soon enough, all of them were assembled on the rocky ground just beside their ship. Ocellus was privately grateful for the human concept of data encryption. Yes, there was a potentially hostile force aboard her ship. But without the passwords she had memorized, they could not steal that information. Nor would they be able to remove the artifacts protected by the ship's spells. A few moments later and the three lizard creatures stepped off the ship.

So whatever else might be said, they weren't using this opportunity to tear the ship apart. They hurried past Ha’luu, one pausing long enough to whisper something in his ears. Or at his head anyway, they didn't seem to have ears. But she couldn't understand the language, only read the emotions of the speakers. Their suspicion was gone, replaced with curiosity and confusion. Somehow they didn't think this ship could exist.

A few moments later, and Ha’luu spoke. "Welcome to all of you. Kavaal is always open to all visitors of significance. Those with souls are welcome to all its delights. I will admit that the Hierocracy believed Equestria, and its creatures might very well be a myth constructed by the Stellar Compact; a deception meant to cajole us into diplomatic action. We are thrilled to discover that is not the case.”

“We’re real,” Silverstream said. "There's a whole planet of us."

"More than just us," Sandbar added. "Equus has half a hundred different species, each with their own unique magic. The six of us only represent a small group.”

"That is most unusual,” the priest said. "To have more than one species survive the brutal conflict to sapience, even on a magical world. The Hierocracy would be eager to receive you to the palace as honored guests. Please allow me to lead you there."

The members of her group shared a few nervous looks, though Ocellus could sense their optimism. In a few moments, they had accomplished what human diplomats had failed to do for half a thousand years. They had managed to convince the Zecrin to talk to them. Maybe this was the beginning of peace.

"Please do," Smolder said. "We've been flying for ages, and I can tell by looking at you people that you probably cook some awesome food."

One of their Zecrin companions was overcome with a sudden burst of movement. Laughter? "We will have that and more," Ha’luu said. "Come with me." He gestured off the edge of the platform.

Ocellus could see very little, there was no city here. Just these vast trees towering as large as buildings. But there was a general pressure on her mind, the force of many intelligent beings, emotions that could be harvested. This was no trap to lead them away from their ship. Besides they'd left without weapons. If it was a trap, what were they going to do anyway?

"Show us the way."

Chapter 7

In a time so long ago it felt like someone else's life, a very young Ocellus had once wondered what it would be like if a race other than ponies had inherited the magic. While traveling through Canterlot as a young changeling, she was in awe of everything that ponies had built. What could her people have done with so much magic? Now on the homeworld of the Zecrin, Ocellus received an answer to that question.

The sacred palace was unlike any structure she had ever seen. Even the orbital stations built high above Equestria followed rules she understood. But here all logic and reason were abandoned. The palace itself emerged from the jungle as a construct of cement bricks with mortar not of gray, but ground up precious stone. Parts of the pyramid were so overgrown by the jungle that they looked abandoned, while others hosted vast concourses of the lizard-like Zecrin.

Some thronged about in robes while others wore only heavy chains around their necks and ankles. Prisoners? From them she sensed a dejected despair, a will as broken as any the swarm had kept and harvested for too long. The Zecrin were cruel even to their own kind.

She wasn't the only one to think it either, judging by the sudden nervousness she saw from her friends. Yet they said nothing, and followed the priest into the pyramid. At least the interior was well lit. It smelled of strange plants and perfumes that Ocellus's nose had never sensed. The corridors extended to dead ends or twisted beyond sight. Sections of the building didn't seem to be attached, but instead hovered there suspended. Occasionally creatures leapt bodily up to waiting platforms, sometimes as much as 10 feet at a time. Apparently those coiled muscular legs could do more than just lope around; they could jump further than earth ponies.

Everywhere they went, her little group received many stares. She did her best to smile at some and waved with her wings at others. Yet none spoke to them. And from the hurried way that Ha'luu moved them, Ocellus got the sense that this was not a time for conversation. Eventually they climbed a set of stairs leading upward towards the top of the pyramid, and the gloom of smokey firelight was broken by sun from above. An open skylight continued all the way to the peak of the pyramid, which shone down as a single solid beam of light. In it, she saw three chairs, a throne really, made of crystal. Each of the occupants had their backs to each other.

Ocellus almost asked why they'd arranged themselves in such a strange way, but then Ha'luu hurried ahead of them, prostrating himself on the ground before one of the three. It happened to be the one with the largest hat, though every one of the three reptiles was adorned, not with cloth, but overlapping metallic chains with bits of glowing gemstone set in each. Magical armor, she realized or otherwise enchanted objects, but she could feel the magic everywhere. Not just around these three.

"Sacred Watchers," the priest proclaimed. "I have brought these prospects before you who beg recognition before your eyes. They represent another planet of ensouled beings, the third of its kind in all creation. Let it be known."

Near the back of the group, Ocellus caught a mumbled whisper from Gallus and her ears flattened.

"So much for getting something to eat," he said.

Fortunately, he'd been quiet enough that the aliens didn't seem to hear it. Ocellus stepped forward. She imitated the bow as perfectly as she could. A few of her companions did likewise. Sandbar the pony was quick to recognize a regal authority, Silverstream as well, but Yona and Smolder only nodded.

Hopefully they just think those are differences in body language, Ocellus thought. She looked up trying to read these strange creatures. Of course only one of the three could see them directly. Yet, as she looked, she realized the strange chamber had mirrors on all sides, curving the light around the room. Looking anywhere but into the center was disorienting. Yet anyone in those chairs could probably see the whole room if they used the mirrors correctly.

Strangely Ocellus could not sense anything coming from the front of the room. She probed cautiously, until she recognized what she was looking at. Not embalmed corpses, as she had initially feared. Rather, they were encircled by powerful protections, shielding their minds from even peripheral emotional bleed.

One of the reptiles rose from their chair into a standing position. Its scales were gold in color, not metallic like a dragon, yet still regal in their own right. She looked over their group with harsh eyes. Yet when she spoke, her voice was measured and peaceful. "Long have the Watchers looked out at the galaxy in hopes of discovering another intelligent race. There is a vast creation before us, yet so little life of significance to appreciate it. Having others to share in this bounty is exactly what we have hoped for."

In the other chairs, the reptiles scratched their claws along the ground in a loud rhythmic way. Applause perhaps? Or simple agreement.

From the weight of eyes settling on them, Ocellus guessed it was their turn to make a reply. She didn't wait for someone else in her group to do it. "Thank you," Ocellus said, rising from her bow. She stepped forward slightly, indicating to her friends that she would handle this. "On behalf of Equus, we thank you for this friendly welcome."

Fortunately, she didn't have to stress and wonder at what to say. Twilight had already prepared her for this moment. "We have only recently been able to construct ships of our own. We travel out into the galaxy, representing our planet in the hopes of making many new friends. We would be honored to count you among the first." The words were stiff in her mouth. Yet she was standing in front of a throne facing in three directions. It was hard not to feel silly, no matter what she said.

Another of the creatures spoke from another side of the throne, a male voice this time. At least they had the friendliness to use translation spells rather than requiring her group to use human translation software. "They arrive at our door. So many. For what purpose have you come?"

As though Ocellus hadn't just announced it. She took a deep breath, glancing over her shoulder at her friends for help.

Sandbar stepped forward with less respect than the other lizard seemed comfortable with. They twitched and shifted nervously. Near the door was a set of guards wearing heavy metal armor. This was not Equestria, where the real security hid in a hallway and the guards you saw were friendly decoration. Here the weapons were real. "The princess sent us to request an embassy on your world."

"We brought a declaration of magical friendship," Silverstream added. She reached into a pocket pulling out a tightly bound scroll. Even now that most of Equus was gradually transitioning to digital storage and communication, formal declarations seemed to mean much more when they were delicately scrawled on real parchment.

Silverstream made it two steps before someone stopped her. It was Ha’luu, extending one of his forearms. It ended in surprisingly sharp claws, yet he somehow managed to take the scroll without damaging it. He brought it before the creature with their strange hat, who took it carefully and unrolled it.

Fortunately, translation spells worked as well on written material as on speech, so long as someone who spoke the language written was in the room. "This is an interesting proposal," said the watcher, before turning to one side and offering it to one of their companions. It took them a few moments to each have their chance to read it.

Ocellus waited patiently, though the pressure was lessened somewhat. She hadn't written that agreement, it wouldn't be her fault if they didn't like what Twilight had to say.

"There is no need to formalize an oath between us," said the third. Another female, her voice was low and silky, reminding Ocellus of the old queen. "For it is written that no creatures of significance will be harmed. Our armies will stop short of their doorsteps. Our ships will pass theirs in peace and friendship. Our knowledge will be shared. To swear more is redundant. To request more is an insult. To request more implies we do not practice our doctrine."

"These are foreigners," said the male. "They do not know our doctrine. It is not an insult."

"It isn't," Ocellus added. “Almost no one in the galaxy knows anything about you. The other races who have tried to visit you were not met peacefully."

"We were afraid the same might happen to us," Smolder added unhelpfully.

Ocellus winced, but the words were already out now.

The first watcher only chuckled. "No. Only one other race has ever visited us until now, and we met them in friendship. You can ask the Enti embassy in this building how we treated them. You will find that trade between us flows freely, that science and thaumic study between our peoples has produced mutually beneficial results. So it will be with Equestria as you will honor the doctrine."

This time, Ocellus sensed the shock coming from her friends. Not even Yona, who barely bothered to concern herself with affairs of Equestria, and had argued against even taking this mission, could miss what that implied.

Should we be surprised? The species that attacks anyone who goes near them for not being magic has diplomatic contact with the magical race trying to subjugate the galaxy.

“There are Enti here?” Smolder asked, taking one protective step towards the others. She put herself up in front, just beside Ocellus. “The ones attacking the whole galaxy? The ones invading and killing everyone?”

“They have not attacked anyone,” said the third watcher, the one who reminded Ocellus of her queen. “They have encountered resistive phenomena out in space and chosen to neutralize some. They can no more attack the galaxy than one who mines an asteroid ‘attacks’ the minerals deposited there. The asteroid can be harvested, or left alone, or pushed into the sun. No person is affected unless it is pointed at an inhabited world. No inhabited world of ours has been harmed. Have they attacked you?”

“Well no, but—” Smolder began.

Ocellus nudged her. She didn’t get too close, or else risk the heat. The air around her was already warming up. Somehow, I don’t like the idea of a fight here. These aliens allowed a group of aliens to meet their leaders after only a short search. They must have powers like Alicorns to be so fearless, maybe even more.

“Please excuse us,” Ocellus said hastily. “We have traveled further than any Equestrian before us. We would be grateful for a chance to rest.”

“Indeed,” said the male. Curious how the other two never tried to face them, always looking at the mirrors. What was the point of that? “The Zecrin admire tenacity, and respect the diversity of other significant races. So long as you honor the doctrine, we will not impose anything further on you.”

“Friendship we can do,” Sandbar said. “We’re not the ones who need help with that.”

“We will appoint an emissary to supervise further contact between your world and ours,” said the one with the huge hat, her tone becoming declaratory. “The Watchers have an empire to manage. And in the meantime, you deserve a chance to recover from your journey. When you have done so, there are many scholars and priests who would cherish the opportunity to learn of you and your world. Perhaps we can arrange a mutual exchange of information after we have a chance to rest?"

"Sounds great," Gallus said. "I'm starving."

Chapter 8

The next few hours were a blessed relief from the pressure of their initial landing. Whatever else might be said for the proclamations of the Zecrin, they respected their own laws. Her group was treated with dignity, led to comfortable quarters near the periphery of the great pyramid.

More precisely, they were led to what Ocellus had to conclude the Zecrin saw as luxury quarters. A single huge room, with domed walls covered in a magical illusion that projected a wild jungle environment. An actual stream ran through the room, and the ground was covered in soil filled with living plants. They coated the walls too, crowding towards a round skylight in the center.

There was some furniture scattered amidst all this—a stone table surrounded by overgrown chairs, a soft patch of slightly sunken mosses that Ocellus took to be a sheltered sleeping spot.

"All can be controlled from here," said the priest leading them, directing them to a stone pillar near the center of the room. Crystal sunken into its surface thrummed with subtle magical power. "Change the time of day, begin rain or a tropical storm. Raise or lower the humidity. For the health of the plants, the room will return to normal when it is not occupied."

"That's amazing." Sandbar crowded close to her, staring at the crystals. "Like a unicorn palace. But why are we outside?"

The priest looked at him like their translation spell had just failed. "Outside? You give a fine complement to our illusionists, but I assure you we’re still within the great pyramid." He bent down, scooping up a pebble with his claws. Still terrifyingly sharp, despite his ceremonial role.

He tossed it hard off into the distance, and it struck something. The wall rippled, and distant forest seemed to fuzz for a second, revealing stone beneath. "You are not outside. There will be no intrusions here, no conflict over prey. In fact, I'm told the kitchen has a delivery waiting just outside. I'll have it sent in when I depart."

Gallus nodded exaggeratedly. "Sounds fantastic. Do we need anything else from him, Ocellus? I could use some time to settle down."

"Why is the inside outside?” Yona interrupted, impatient. "Not even yurt to keep off the sun here. Where is sleeping spot? Yakyakistan understand how to build proper home. This is worse than ponies."

The priest's head twitched slightly towards her. Those black eyes just got deeper. But Ocellus couldn't read any emotion behind them. No anger, at least. "Those with significance understand the magic that permeates all life," he said. "It compels us to live alongside that life, and not to build anything that would elevate us above that life."

"I'm sure we can talk more about our customs later," Ocellus said. "If we want to arrange another diplomatic meeting, will that be allowed?"

"Yes, yes." Ha’luu flicked his claws through the air dismissively. "Tomorrow, tomorrow. Not with the Watchers—you should have a representative chosen by then. Any messages you have will go through them."

Great. Ocellus had at least appreciated the simplicity of the Zecrin way of doing things. Fly in, go directly to the capital, talk to the people in charge. But apparently that was a luxury they would only experience once.

"Thanks for your help," Silverstream said. "And for such a... friendly welcome! It's good to meet new creatures!"

Ha’luu seemed to take that as a dismissal. He bobbed his head in acknowledgement, maybe something like a nod. "There will be guards at your door, for your own protection. You are not prisoners, however. Ask, and you will be taken anywhere you are permitted to go. This includes returning to your vessel, if you desire. But we hope you will choose to stay long enough to get to know each other better."

"We will," Ocellus promised. "We're not going to leave right away."

"Good, good." He turned, then hurried through the simulated jungle, and out a doorway from the room.

No sooner had he vanished than a pair of creatures appeared, carrying a heavy tray of food between them. They wore only golden bands around their necks, and simple cloth wraps for privacy.

They were also humans.

Ocellus and the others stared openly as they walked in. She could feel almost nothing from the group, heads downcast and expressions furiously focused on their work. What she could feel did not suggest sanity. She saw fractured, fragmentary emotions, poisoned with frequent recollections of terrible memory.

"Hi!" Silverstream said, as they set the tray down on the stone table before them. "How's life in the pyramid?"

The two humans—both mature males, though Ocellus could read no more specifically than that—instantly dropped into low bows. They didn't speak, however.

Seconds passed in silence. Ocellus and the others exchanged a few pained looks. The terror Ocellus felt from these poor creatures grew more intense. Had they displeased these guests simply by bringing them food? It started hurting her just being close to it.

"You can go!" she said, gesturing towards the door. "Thank you for delivering to us. We're satisfied with your service."

She'd never seen humans run so fast, vanishing out the door before anyone had a chance to open their mouth.

Only when the door was shut did anyone speak.

"What are they doing here?" Sandbar asked. "I thought everypony said they... blew up the ships that came trying to make friends."

"Maybe they teleported people off first," Ocellus guessed, staring back at the door. Even Gallus hadn't moved to investigate the overflowing tray of food. The mixture of strange smells just didn't reach her stomach the way it had before.

It was hard to enjoy something brought to her on the backs of a slave. "This is what we're fighting," Smolder said, little wisps of flame drifting from her mouth. Anger radiated from her strongly enough to make nearby plants wilt. "They could come to Equus next. Put collars on our friends."

She clawed at the ground, lowering her voice to a whisper. "We should leave, Ocellus. Tell the princess that there's no one worth talking to here. We picked the right side in this war."

Part of Ocellus wanted to agree. There was a time not too long ago, when changelings had labored under a queen who treated them much the same way. Disposable lives insignificant. Only the survival of the swarm mattered.

"Friendship isn't something everypony understands at first," Sandbar whispered. "Sometimes you have to learn. Someone taught the Zecrin that only creatures with magic matter."

"We could try talking to the Enti," Gallus said absently. "They've got creatures here too, the Watchers said so. Maybe we could get them to give up the war. Everyone could make friends, and leave this jungle alone."

It was an alluring idea, though Ocellus had her doubts. Considering how hard the humans had worked to make friends with Equestria, she couldn't think that the Enti wouldn't be given the same attention. They did talk to creatures from outside, to tell them that they were the rightful rulers of the galaxy and would take all they saw for themselves.

They ate in subdued silence, gathered around a tray of strange food. Over half of it was meat, leaving several members of the group to pick at the leaves and decorative vegetables used as garnish.

Ocellus tried it, doing her very best not to think of what creature the meat had been taken from. Besides, Yona and Sandbar needed everything they could get. Sandbar at least had tried the purple foliage of the jungle all around them, and spat it out in disgust.

When they were done, she called him over, gesturing at his saddlebags. "We need to send a scroll to the princess. We delivered our message, and they didn't like it. Now we see what she wants us to do."

"Yeah." Sandbar took the dragonfire scroll along with a human-made ballpoint pen, settling them both down in front of Ocellus. No one else seemed eager to write this message, though they all watched.

She took the pen grimly in her magic, and began writing. She used a code, just in case there was some way for the Zecrin to intercept a message sent by dragonfire. Under the cyphers, she wrote:

"Princess,

We arrived safely on the Zecrin homeworld and delivered your message. They saw the request for a formal non-aggression agreement as an insult to their doctrine, which requires all magical races treat each other peacefully.

This means we failed, though if they obey this doctrine Equestria has nothing to worry about so long as we do not attack them.

I don't know what to do. The Zecrin do not seem very open to accepting other creatures as their friends. They enslave nonmagical races here in their capital, either human survivors or their descendants. Even some of their own people appear enslaved, or else treated so badly there's no difference.

I don't know how to make friends with creatures like this. I'm not sure if they'll be willing to help us keep the galaxy safe from the Enti. They even have an embassy right here in their capital. Is that something you do with someone you're going to go to war with?

Please tell us what to do,

Ocellus"

She rolled up the scroll, before turning awkwardly to Smolder, and holding it out in her magic. "You mind sending this?"

Smolder took it in one claw, tossing it up and down. She didn't even bother unrolling it to read it, and hadn't been watching Ocellus scribble. "You think Equus will keep us here?"

She looked away. "I told them I didn't think we could do it."

"Good." Smolder exhaled a breath of flame onto the scroll, which vanished in a shower of sparks before them.

"Guess the pressure's off us then," Silverstream said. "We did what we came for. Saw a really cool pyramid full of magic, talked to some scary creatures. Then we go home, after we did our best."

They spent the next few hours decompressing after their difficult day. They could only do so much to make a patch of jungle feel like home, but they cleared away branches and piled them into a single wall for privacy around the sleeping spot. At least ponies weren't like humans, they wouldn't mind some communal sleeping if they had to.

Without clear direction of what to do next, no one tried to leave their little prison. Ocellus turned over what she would tell their new official representative, particularly if Twilight told them to go home. They'd need a way to exit this gracefully. Maybe they could invite the Zecrin to build an embassy on Equus and call it a success.

Without intervention from them, the lights dimmed at what she guessed was about nighttime. The jungle continued to glow, a ceaseless purple bioluminescence that pulsed with its own magical rhythm.

The Zecrin might be monsters, but there might be some truth to what they said about magic on their homeworld. Nature overflowed with power here. Was this what led them to think that nothing could be alive without it?

Whatever the native power was, Ocellus barely felt it touch her mind. It was like trying to feed on a negative emotion—power in its own right, but not one she knew how to harness.

Even with her friends beside her in the leaves, she tossed and turned, wishing very much for the human-designed silky blankets on their starship. She'd hung them from the wall into a nice hammock, and almost felt like she was safe in one of the hive's caverns. Who knew what eyes could be watching her from the jungle?

"Hey." Smolder nudged her with a claw, early in the morning. The dragon clasped something, something Ocellus was expecting. Another dragonfire scroll, one stamped with a soft wax seal.

Ocellus rose, already fully awake. She shook it out, drawing some groans and motion from those who were still asleep. Yona kept snoring, as loud as a passing train.

"My Faithful Students,

Since joining with the Compact, I have gained access to tactical information humans were reluctant to share with Equestria before.

If nothing changes in this war, there is nothing Equestria can do. Everything they do is a delaying tactic, buying time for some future innovation they don't think they'll make.

Without a radical shift, the Stellar Compact will lose this war within the century. Equestria will share its talented wizards and scientists, but I don't know if it will be enough.

You must make peace with the Zecrin, and bring them into the Stellar Compact. They have powerful magical ships, the kind that the Compact needs to hold against invasion.

Ten thousand different species are depending on us, and I am depending on you.

You have the full friendship and support of Equestria to make whatever promises we can keep.

Whatever you have to do, make friends.

Princess Twilight Sparkle"

Chapter 9

If Ocellus had her way, she would climb back aboard the ship and abandon this foolish mission. The cause might be just—spreading friendship to those who would otherwise be attacking allied creatures in the Stellar Compact—but it was also doomed. Like Cozy Glow, sometimes a creature was so evil they just didn't want to be friends.

But Twilight's desperation was palpable in everything she wrote. There was no denying that feeling might be shared by the other creatures of the Compact. Equestria hadn't joined the winning side, they'd joined the right side. The pressure of making sure they came into alignment was on her.

There was one play so audacious she didn't really believe it was possible. Here among the Zecrin, for the first time in many years, the Enti were nearby, and not trying to kill everyone. Maybe they were more reasonable than the Zecrin. They were apparently far less monstrous in appearance, even similar to humans in some ways. Could that mean they thought in some of the same ways, too?

Given the disaster of their first meeting, Ocellus chose against inviting everyone. She could sense the relief from Gallus when he wasn't asked, and something similar form Sandbar. Unfortunately for her, Silverstream wouldn't be escaping this one.

"We'll make it quick," Ocellus promised. "If it doesn't seem like we're going anywhere, we can leave. But we need to try. If we made it this close and gave up, I couldn't forgive myself. Think about all the innocent creatures fighting a war out there. They need us to succeed."

Silverstream nodded resolutely. She dressed again in her dignified coat, replaced her jewelry. "We should," she admitted. "It won't go anywhere, Ocellus, you should know that. We tried this with the Storm King, when he was threatening Mount Aris. Creatures determined to cause pain and do evil to grow their domain will do so. This war didn't come from a misunderstanding—the Enti just want to rule."

It's like the Canterlot invasion all over again, only we're the ponies this time. Celestia could never convince the queen to give up.

At least the Zecrin could keep their promises. When Ocellus and Silverstream knocked on the door and explained what they wanted, the guards rushed off to obey. It took them only minutes to return with a response. "The Enti Embassy will see you immediately," said one of the guards. They set off together through the pyramid.

They did not have long to travel through that place—as they'd been told, the Enti were on the same floor. Yet even a short trip was too long for Ocellus. While the others only had to see the terrible things inflicted on the slaves here, Ocellus felt it. Every group they passed was overwhelmed with fear and despair, driven to work only because they had no other choice.

Even the old queen would have been furious with such treatment for prey, if only because it meant lower quality food. There wouldn't be much love harvested from creatures so badly broken.

The Enti had their own large living section, just like what the Zecrin had given them. There were no guards outside, just a doorway.

"Remember the doctrine," said the same guard Ocellus had spoken to. He had the feeling of active magic around him, probably the only reason he could understand. "No harm can be done to another being. The Embassy is the Enti's sovereign soil, but we expect beings of significance in the entire galaxy to obey the doctrine."

The door opened. Ocellus nodded in thanks to the guard, saying nothing.

Even without the warning, Ocellus would've guessed the instant she stepped into the Enti's territory. There was no jungle inside—every plant and seed and flower had been scrubbed from the stone walls. Inside, it reminded Ocellus quite a bit of the Stellar Compact's headquarters, with metal walls, fine art, and a constant breeze of cool air.

But while humans kept reminders of nature with them in pots and painted scenery, the Enti had none. There were no living subjects on any wall, only complex designs of repeating mathematical patterns. Fractals, they were called. It smelled of heated metal and chemicals, and the lights were a harsh, unnatural red.

They made it only a few steps before they met a wide metal desk with a computer resting atop it. Waiting behind it was... a human?"

"The ponies, yes. Archduke Xender is waiting in his office." She waved one hand to the nearby hallway, made of a single sheet of glowing red glass. "Welcome to the embassy, honored guests."

"Why are you working for the Enti?" Silverstream asked, utterly tactless. "Aren't they trying to kill you?"

Ocellus winced. She opened her wings, blocking Silverstream from view. But she was too slow to apologize.

The human laughed. "Kill us? Horse aliens of Equestria, you're mistaken. You confuse the Enti for the barbarians outside. The Enti will take their rightful place as rulers of this chaotic galaxy. That doesn't mean lording over ash heaps and graveyards."

She pointed down the hall again, more insistent. "You should go. The archduke is eager to meet with you. He'll be more accommodating to requests if you catch him in a good mood."

Ocellus nodded gratefully, muttering an apology as they hurried past her. She felt at the human's emotions, though no more than she might for anyone else around her. It wasn't like she was overtly trying to spy.

She actually believes what she's saying.

She couldn't tell Silverstream that, though. Not while they walked together down the hallway made from red glass. Strange orange and silvery lights flickered underneath, casting bizzare shadows against the metal walls. She imagined she could see images playing out under there, just faded enough to be impossible to identify.

"I'll handle this," Ocellus said. "Just don't make them angry."

Silverstream grinned back at her. If she resented being relegated to backup, she concealed her feelings well. "You got it!"

They approached a heavy metal door, like a slab of solid steel inside a fortress. She lifted her hoof to knock, and it swung open on its own.

The office beyond was as opulent as anything she might've seen in Equestria. Or maybe it was more accurate to imagine places like this existing in Equestria a thousand years from now—magic and technology combined in perfect cooperation, in a way the Zecrin hadn't done.

There was a huge screen positioned prominently on the back wall, but the ceiling was illuminated with enchanted gemstones. A subtle music came from nowhere, carrying with it an emotional compulsion. It pressed down on Ocellus like a damp towel over a flame. Be calm, it said. We're all on the same side. Relax.

Silverstream sighed contently, wings relaxing slightly as she stepped in. Ocellus did the exact opposite. She jabbed one hoof against the inside of her own leg, causing a brief stab of pain. That jolted her from the compulsion, at least for a few minutes.

We need a unicorn in the negotiating team. They could shield against something like this.

There were several chairs along the wall, each one made of rusting red metal. They looked like they might slice into the arms of anyone who grew too relaxed while sitting on them. And standing before her was Archduke Xender.

He was taller than any human she'd ever met, at least seven feet from head to horns. His skin wasn't just discolored from the red lights—it was a deep crimson, with complex swirling patterns of darker shades visible when the light struck it just right. Yet it was skin, he had no fur anywhere on his body.

Those eyes had a faint glow to them too, like a changeling casting a powerful spell every moment. He had two horns instead of one, emerging from the top of his head on both sides. They were white bone, and ended in a pair of sharp points.

When he spoke, it was with a resonant tone, his words plodding and deliberate. Yet there was no translation spell in it—he was speaking real Equestrian, albeit slightly accented. "Welcome, visitors. Younger siblings of magic, awakened to your potential at last."

Ocellus dropped into a bow, opening her wings to either side. Silverstream followed her lead, thankfully. "Thanks for seeing us, under... um.... right now. My name is Ocellus, and this is Silverstream," Ocellus said. "I'm sure you have lots of important things to do as the ambassador to the Zecrin here, so we... only want to talk for a few minutes."

He gestured to a few of the nearby chairs. "Tea, perhaps? I understand you metabolize the same proteins as we do. This is the case for all magically-capable species in the galaxy, as it happens. We all share biological similarities in kind."

So do lots of other species, Ocellus thought. Humans, Aljongs, Divensons. There were more exotic species, true. But most were relegated to relative obscurity by their strange biology. She took the offered chair anyway, nodding.

"We'd love to taste something from your world!" Silverstream said cheerfully. "They know so little about you back in Equestria. Only that you're trying to take over everything."

While they sat, the ambassador removed something from a shelf—a delicate tea set made entirely of glass, transparent. She could see the water waiting in the pot, the powder in one of the serving dishes. The ambassador took a seat across from them, then started working.

He didn't call a servant, but his hands moved with ritual precision. There was a spark of magic from his fingers, striking a stick of incense in the center of the dish. Then when he touched the teapot, the water within heated to boiling almost instantly. He spoke while he worked, not actually watching what he did. "That's a... simplistic, but accurate description, I suppose. If you did not have the misfortune of being discovered by humans first, you would understand. This emotion you attach to our governance is... misguided."

He poured three cups, their contents all clear. He held the tray towards them, without selecting one for himself. A subtle way of showing he wasn't poisoning them, perhaps. The smell was utterly unfamiliar to Ocellus—a hot spice, hotter than the beverage within. The hive would probably love having a spice like that to add to the drudgery of eating. "We're not very good politicians, Archduke Xender. Can we just tell you why we're here?"

He smiled back, revealing teeth that were just a little too sharp. More like a wolf than a pony. "I think I'd find that refreshing."

"Nopony has been able to talk to you for centuries," she said. "You never answer any calls, you return all the messengers, and you don't have an embassy with the Stellar Compact. We were hoping—and Equestria was hoping too, I suppose—that maybe everyone could stop fighting?"

Her wings buzzed nervously as she said it. Billions of creatures were dead in this war, numbers so vast that Ocellus didn't have room for them in her brain. Here she was, expecting it to stop because she asked nicely? She wasn't a pony, she was smarter than that!

She levitated her glass into the air, sipping delicately from it. It burned on the way down, but not from the temperature.

The ambassador didn't laugh. He sat back on his chair, holding the glass delicately in fingers that could've wrapped all the way around Ocellus's neck and squeezed the life right out of her. He drank, without any sign of the heat bothering him. "You misunderstand, ponies of Equestria. Or perhaps more likely, your human allies misinform you. Enti are not Zecrin. We aren't barbarians who hide in our nebula and view the rest of the galaxy as beneath respect. That is the entire reason for our campaign; we want peace and stability for this galaxy. And we are the only ones who can provide it. If the Stellar Compact wishes for the war to end, that power is theirs.

"All they have to do is surrender."

Chapter 11

"That sounds like a great idea," Sandbar said. "Convince the rest of your tribe to change their ways and be willing to join the war. That's basically the whole reason we're here. But that doesn't mean we know how. That's the hard part. How do we change their mind about magic?"

"Well..." Even without the ability to read alien emotions exactly, Ocellus could sense his hesitation now. This stranger was unsure about how they would feel. He didn't want them to reject his idea. They were an opportunity to him, perhaps his best chance at achieving his goals.

But does he want the same things we do, or are we just a convenient opportunity to capitalize on?

"The core of the problem is obvious; they don't believe a nonmagical creature can have a spirit. I could not tell you the source of this belief, since it is not present in any of the ancient texts. It is self-evident, in the same way that people know plants grow purple or that space is cold. But there are some ways."

"The only way to make a creature question their assumptions is to prove them wrong," Ocellus said. "But not too forcefully, or else their old habits will only dig in deeper. It needs to happen in a way that's compatible with what they already think.

"That was how it was for the Changelings. We knew we needed to feed on emotions to survive, in the old days. But we didn't know that we could share those feelings with each other, instead of stealing them from other creatures. If Thorax had arrived declaring that we could eat pony food, we would've laughed and ignored him."

"Yes," the Zecrin agreed. "That is what we considered as well. There is one task you could accomplish, something so dramatic that even the Watchers would be forced to witness for you. We've known about this method for some time, but no one has succeeded before."

"You didn't say tried," Yona said. "Yona not happy to hear it that way. You know how to do this thing, but you fail already?"

The messenger, Degara, clicked his claws together unhappily. "All who last attempted it have not returned. But that doesn't mean you will fail. I think their failure comes from the biases of our kind. Even the open-minded among the Zecrin don't see it as an option. Most would not even consider attempting it."

"Tell us what it is," Silverstream demanded. "We're brave, and we've come a long way to make friends with you. I'm sure it won't be too hard for us."

"The task is simple; to accomplish something incredible, without the aid of magic. There is a crater on the far side of our world, where the heartbeat of magic is discordant. At its center is a relic, the scepter of the Final Emperor. Make it to the bottom, retrieve the scepter, and you would be recognized as the rightful ruler of all Zecrin. More importantly, you would make a point that even the Sacred Watchers would be forced to acknowledge."

"Get a stick out of a hole." Gallus spread his wings, grinning. "That sounds simple. In and out, and the Zecrin are joining us to defend the galaxy."

Ocellus nodded. "That sounds... too easy. You have a relic that elevates its bearer to Emperor, but you are still ruled by Watchers? Why does no one go?"

"Because..." He looked away. "Because the chaotic magic of the place drains all who enter it. Of their magic, or their soul, depending on who you ask. The Final Emperor was the greatest spellcaster to ever live, with power to pull the stars down from heaven. When he went mad, he corrupted the land for miles. Halidom collapsed into the earth with him, hiding its shame from the stars. Life grew up in the wreckage, but not life as the rest of our worlds know.

"It grows wild and chaotic. It draws the power from your veins, then attacks you with teeth and claw. None who have entered ever returned. The Watchers declare they never could. No one could accomplish so great a task without a soul. And no creature could survive holding the emperor's scepter without a soul. You see? Proof that all will be forced to acknowledge."

"So if we go down there, the crater takes our magic away?" Sandbar asked. "I've been through that before—Cozy Glow almost took over Equestria that way. We could get a magic stick without magic. That should be easy!"

Ocellus could feel her friends' optimism. None of them seemed to even care about the danger, or the fact that a species of clawed, muscular lizard-monsters couldn't make it into the crater and out again. They didn't seem to care about how long it would take to get their own magic back, even if they could succeed.

"Not quite the way I would describe it," Degara said. "Not easy, but simple. The emperor's body is at the bottom, still holding his scepter. Reach it, overcome the wild chaos of the life there, and return with it. Do this, and the Sacred Watchers will be silenced."

"Send us directions to this crater," she said. "Will we be allowed to fly there?"

"To the edge," he said. "Do not take your ship into the crater, or it will join the tomb with all the others who attempted it. It has its own defenses, even more hostile to technology than to magic. If you wish to have a ship that can fly you back to your home system, you will go in on foot."

"Thank you for telling us this," Smolder said. "We were running out of ideas. But doing something impossible and proving ourselves to everyone, that's something we can all understand."

He rose, bowing farewell to their group. "I'll deliver the location to you. I'm sure the Watchers will permit you to leave if you ask, to see our world. I would refrain from describing your goals, or else they might... take steps to guarantee your failure. The last thing they want now is a new emperor stealing their thrones."

He left, leaving them to watch the campfire burn low.

For a long time no one said anything, until Ocellus finally broke the silence. "It's a crazy plan," she said. "Something so hard none of the locals can even figure it out—do we really think we're better at surviving their world than the ones who live here full time?"

"No, but we have better teamwork." Sandbar circled around the campfire. "You've seen how they're like. They're so violent all the time. I bet not very many have tried. Lose their magic? They think they don't have a soul without it!"

"We don't know if they are wrong," Yona said. "This world is theirs, and they choose not to go and risk danger in that place. Maybe we should obey their wisdom."

Ocellus looked back at their tray of food, remembering the slaves who had brought it to them. While they were here, Princess Twilight was integrating into the Stellar Compact. She thought their odds of winning the war were nonexistent. If they couldn't make a change here, their new friends were doomed.

Either we find a way to win here, or we accept the Enti's offer of peace. We abandon the ones who showed us the stars, and we accept never leaving our home star again.

Equestria wouldn't want that. She knew many changelings back home who wanted to go out and explore. They weren't the only ones, either. Creatures from every tribe had the galaxy open to them now. It wasn't a peaceful place, or a welcoming one. But it needed their help.

"We won't be limited to our muscles and claws and wings," she said. "Twilight knew something dangerous might be waiting for us, remember? It doesn't matter how much power is in that crater. It can drain us, but it can't steal the magic from what we brought.

Equus's most powerful artifacts, precious beyond description. Each one represented a source of bottomless power—they'd survived Discord. They could survive a spooky hole.

"We do," Gallus said. "It would mean bringing them into danger. Equus won't get them back if we die in the jungle."

"This is not a problem. Yona does not plan to die there. Does Gallus?"

"No."

"I don't need magic to be tough." Smolder stood straight, flexing both her limbs and filling the air ahead of her with a burst of flame. “Magic is for weaklings. And... friends. If I have to, I'll burn our way down. Simple."

It wasn't even simple to get to the crater. Ocellus spoke to the guards outside, explaining their intention to fly elsewhere on the planet and tour. It took an hour for their representative to arrive, carrying a glowing crystal filled with images of interesting places for them to go.

"You should see the Starfall," he said. "The twisting bridges are my particular favorite. The water there is so warm you never need to lay in the sun. It feels like you can swim for days and never rest. And the black-sand beaches are the finest on all of Kavaal."

It did sound relaxing. Ocellus wished the galaxy wasn't at war, and they'd been here on a normal diplomatic mission. Seeing the sights might be a legitimate part of their reason for being here.

"I'm sold," Smolder said. "But I should probably talk things over with the others before I make my decision."

Ha’luu showed them images of other interesting places—fields of swaying grass taller than their heads, where massive predators feasted on anything too slow to get away. Towering mountain peaks that somehow remained warm with every step, carrying the rainforest vertically with a species of specially-adapted lichen.

He showed them wonders, filled with new species to transform into, or just animals to get to know. It took all her self-restraint to avoid giving a selfish answer and just agreeing to every single one of them.

Maybe the crater will have fun animals to try. Except that she would lose her magic as soon as she went there, and not be able to become any of them. A cruel and unfair price to pay.

"One of these must seem worth a visit to you," Ha’luu said, as soon as he had finished his presentation. "Most of these are reserved only for the most important beings of Kavaal. It is a great honor even to be invited."

"It is our custom to decide on the way," Ocellus said, before any of her friends could say anything that would take away the option. "We might wish to see more than one, or perhaps fly in some other direction and see all the natural beauty of your world. We would give an expedition from the Zecrin the same honor on Equus."

"I'm sure one will be sent, in time." He switched off the crystal, pocketing it in a heavy leather satchel. "It would be easier on me if I knew where we were going, however. I would like to know what to pack."

"Pack?" Silverstream asked. "But you don't have to—" Her eyes widened.

"Oh, I do," he said. "It would be irresponsible for the Sacred Watchers to allow visitors to wander. You might encounter terrible dangers, and not even understand them. I insist on coming with you."

Her mind spun, searching for any polite excuse she could use. If Ha’luu came with them, would he try to stop them from flying to the crater? Or maybe just report what they were doing to the Watchers, so they could somehow sabotage their attempt.

"Sounds great!" Sandbar said, with apparent enthusiasm. "I think you'll love flying on the Fortuna. It's so smooth, no matter how fast we fly!"

Ocellus sighed, defeated. Sandbar's strategy was probably the right one—if they couldn't get him to leave them alone, their next best hope was winning him over.

"I'm quite certain that I will," he said. "Let me send word to my household. My porters will meet us on the landing platform."

Chapter 12

Ocellus remained alert for any chance to speak privately about what her friends would do next. Even a few seconds would be enough, if only she could manage them. But he didn't give them the opportunity, never leaving their private chamber.

Instead of traveling to "make preparations" to go with them, Ha’luu had his slaves visit to carry supplies back and forth. A group of mixed aliens including a few humans, a few Zecrin, and some stranger things she had no names for, arrived together with several heavy wooden crates of supplies. Actual wood, built with actual nails. Like something Equestria would've used before the discovery of spaceflight.

Only when they reached the Fortuna did Ocellus finally have a free moment. For all Gallus’s objections to the strange Zecrin and their inhumane society, he and Smolder had ended up in the lounge with Ha’luu, discussing the recreational hunts popular among the nobility.

"There are some very interesting prey for an enterprising young hunter. They breed them for speed and cleverness, in jungle preserves indistinguishable from the real thing."

"But what's the point?" Gallus asked. "You have spaceships, you're so advanced. You don't need to hunt for food anymore."

"Does a creature not need training? Do they not need to strengthen their body? Do they not need to be prepared to hunt at any time? Besides, we do eat it. There's nothing more satisfying than the thrill of pursuit. You chase for hours into the jungle, fighting dangers of all kinds, only to finally reach your quarry and slay it in brutal, deadly conflict."

"That does sound... interesting. Have you ever done it before?" Gallus asked.

"Have I? Let me tell you about the time—"

Ocellus ducked out the door, hurrying down the hall for the helm. She wasn’t the only creature eager to get away. Though the idea of hunting another living thing for the fun of it sounded particularly upsetting to her.

Gallus and Smolder are both carnivores. It's not wrong for them to enjoy hunting. Logically, that made sense. But like so many other changelings, Ocellus had been a vegetarian since the moment of her transformation. It was hard to rationalize the idea of eating other creatures when she had been so many of them.

She found Yona and Sandbar together in the helm, pouring over a sensor readout. It showed the planet from orbit, based on the readings they'd taken on their way in.

It was many times more detailed than anything the Stellar Compact had in their archives. No friendly ship had ever come so close and made it back again.

"Anything on our destination in there?" she asked. At Sandbar's worried expression, she spread both wings. "Don't worry, Ha’luu is in the other room. Gallus and Smolder are distracting him."

"Where Degara told us," Sandbar said, pointing. The planet had less detail on that side, but orbit had still told them some things. The computer was already adapting to incorporate them, judging by the high consumption report she saw scrolling along the bottom of the screen.

"We don't have a way of measuring the magic from space, but the wilderness looks way different."

"There is more life than anywhere else we saw," Yona said. "They are wrong to think magic is needed. Without magic even more grows. Just different."

Wilder, deadly.

"Have you thought about what's going to happen when we get in there?" she whispered. The question was mostly for Sandbar, since he came from a culture that understood its own magic. Whatever magic yaks had was small enough to be insignificant to a pony. The cold wasn't the only reason changelings had never used them for food.

"Been through it before," he said. "Not my favorite memories. But we know more than they do. Magic isn't their weird religion, and it isn't the unseen particles humans are looking for. Magic comes from our friendship. No jungle can take that away, no matter how dangerous."

"Yona is big and strong," she said, raising her voice so loud that Ocellus jumped back, wings buzzing with surprise. "Yona will protect the tiny and fragile creatures. Smash anything that gets in our way!" She stomped dramatically on the deck, denting the metal there.

"We know you will," Sandbar said, grinning. "We know we can always count on you to protect us."

A set of claws sounded on the deck behind them, causing all three of them to turn.

Silverstream entered, half gliding and half running as she went. "We don't have much time!" she said. "Ha’luu is distracted. What are we going to do? Do we lie? You remember what Degara said. If the Watchers find out, they'll try to kill us."

"We need to keep a secret long enough that they can't stop us," Ocellus agreed. "That means some deception. I can imagine some, but with a creature traveling with us, it will not work forever. But what if we tell him we intend to travel somewhere else. We set a course to whichever of the destinations is closest, and change at the last possible moment."

"This sounds... devious. I like it!" Yona smashed her forelegs on the deck again, even louder than before. "I wonder what they will do. If they were yaks, they would be so angry! Will he try to break things?"

She lowered her voice, as close to a whisper as any yak could reach. That meant about a normal speaking volume for anyone else. "We should be careful. It is not just Ha’luu here. He has servants too. We should not look away from them, they might try to break the Fortuna when we are away."

And there won't be any way to stop Ha’luu from harming it either. The computer had every human security measure, genetic keys, data lockouts—things that Ocellus could barely describe, but would be simple for the bugs rapidly taking to the data security field back on Equestria.

But would they be enough to keep the ship safe against someone with magic? What if they found the scepter only to make it out of the jungle and discover their ship was missing?

Problems to solve when we get there. Stealing our ship would hopefully count as harming another magical creature, and be against their religion.

"Where's the destinations he sent us?"

Ocellus watched as Sandbar poked about at the files they'd been sent. He found it after a few moments, pulling up the coast near to their real destination. There was a series of large buildings along the beach there, resorts with floating settlements spread out over shallow reefs.

A vacation destination that many creatures would pay outrageous sums to see, no doubt. A shame Ocellus wouldn't get the chance.

Unless we win. When they're friends with the Stellar Compact, maybe I can come back.

"Here. Get clearance from traffic control. Don't commit to a destination, just ask for a flight plan to take us near the resort. Take off as soon as you're ready."

Silverstream settled into the pilot's chair, placing both forelegs on the controls. Atmospheric flight was far easier for creatures with claws—human controls weren't built for hooves.

"And Ha’luu?" Sandbar asked, swiveling his chair back around. "What do we do about him?"

"Keep entertaining. He's the one who insisted on coming along. But we couldn't think of anything better, Sandbar. There's no way to win this war without the Zecrin. Unless we can convince them that the rest of the galaxy is alive, they're just going to sit in their jungle, doing nothing, and letting everyone else get invaded."

"They're not exactly the friendliest creatures," he muttered. "This war thing is so... backwards. If the Enti would just leave everypony alone, we could all make friends and there wouldn't be any fighting. They seem a lot more reasonable than the Zecrin. Are you sure we couldn't convince them to make peace?"

Before she could open her mouth to reply, Silverstream looked back. "We have takeoff clearance! Everyone hold on!" The ship rumbled, its engines coming roaring back to life. Whatever part of Ocellus might've feared their new “friends” would make some covert modifications to ensure they never left the planet was dissuaded by the presence of their guest.

If the Zecrin planned assassination or subterfuge, they probably wouldn't have an important beurocrat riding aboard the ship with them.

The engines all reported green, and soon enough they were lifting into the air. They shot off into the sky in a wide, parabolic path. "Change course at the last safe moment," she said. "Be ready to hide the navigation data if Ha’luu takes a tour in here. How long to transit the planet?"

Silverstream adjusted the controls, and didn't look away from her work. "There are requirements about speed and flight-lanes we have to follow. Should be four hours, assuming we can find a good place to put down."

Ocellus turned on her hooves, pacing back the way she'd come. Now she knew how long she had to keep the Zecrin distracted.

"Oh, and Yona." She stopped in the hallway, turning around. "Prepare the artifacts. Have all six of them out and ready for us. We won't have any magic ourselves, but there's no telling what dangers will be waiting for us."

"Is that a good idea?" Sandbar asked. "I know Twilight gave us all that to help us complete this mission. But taking magical artifacts into a place without magic..."

"It's not without magic." With a flash of concentration, Ocellus transformed into the lanky unicorn mare she often used around ponies. Sometimes it was just easier to pretend to be one of them than to explain why it was okay for a changeling to be there.

"Living creatures rely on external forces for our magic. This is how Tirek was able to steal the magic of Equestria, or Cozy Glow for that matter. But artifacts like those, or the Elements... they're magical monopoles. They will be in far less danger than we are."

She walked back the way she'd come, keeping up the disguise for now. Her ability to transform should serve as an interesting distraction for their political stooge.

As it turned out, she was right. Ha’luu asked which of the locations they'd decided, and she gave her guarded answer about heading in the direction of the resorts, before quickly transitioning the subject of conversation to something else.

As it turned out, the Zecrin lacked anything quite like her powers, and were eager to see her demonstrate them. She even had a chance to learn the precise way to imitate one of the half-lizards, and get advice about her posture and plausible colorations.

Not quite the full suite of genetic data to send back to the Compact in their quest for the source of magic, but still valuable. Ha’luu proved a pleasant enough guest, if they were willing to ignore the shackled slaves serving him bits of meat from a tray.

But his politeness went only as far as his belief that things were still following his plans. Then Silverstream made a hard course-correction at the last second, taking them away from the sprawling white stone buildings and the inviting black sand.

He rose from his seat in a rush, dislodging the books he'd been reading. He stormed past his servants, to where Ocellus and Smolder were pretending to be interested in the book of fashions he brought.

"I believe something must be wrong, Ocellus. I see our destination retreating out the window there. We should speak to your pilot at once.

The ship rocked and shook under them, pivoting with such a hard burn that Ha’luu was smacked to the ground. Ocellus held herself in place with unicorn magic, but she'd been expecting it. It was easier when you knew what was coming.

"What kind of primitive ship is..." Ha’luu crawled his way over to a nearby couch, with straps waiting to receive them. "Where's your gravity-compensator magic? Your pilot is completely off-course, and—"

The pressure grew more intense, crushing them downward. "Nevermind. We'll have to... discuss this on the ground. See how lost you strangers have gotten yourselves."

Chapter 13

Ocellus took no joy in deceiving others.

There were many—mostly ponies who had been harmed in the ill-fated Canterlot invasion—who still thought that changelings were creatures born of deceit, with no desire towards honesty. She had grown all her life hearing the whispers of her own inherent, irresistible corruption.

Even in the era of spaceflight, she knew there were still some creatures back home who would always see her that way. It would take generations for those old views of changelings as love-devouring parasites to finally die.

As the Fortuna touched down for the second time on the Zecrin homeworld, Ocellus felt no satisfaction in their successful deception. Even with a close, personal view of their escort, feeling his transition from frustration to disbelief, then finally to betrayal, she felt only calm

When the universe needed her to lie a little to save a whole civilization, she could still manage it. Barely.

"I'll grab our stuff," Gallus said, rising from one of the deceleration chairs, and vanishing out the open door into the hallway beyond.

"Looks like we found somewhere safe!" came Silverstream's voice, over the ship-wide radio. "Outside is a little scorched, maybe from earlier ships. Matches the description we were given of the Halidom."

"You were... given," Ha’luu repeated. He rose from his own chair, shaking himself out with visible discomfort. The seats weren't carefully molded to a single body as on a human vessel—pony ships might have a wide variety of different species aboard.

Even so, none of them had quite anticipated something with his body plan. Dragons were close, but also so tough that the couch was basically unnecessary.

Ha’luu looked nothing like so tough. He wobbled when he stood, stretching that long, thick tail. "This was no accident. You intended to come... where, exactly?"

He made his way to one of the external windows, staring out at the jungle.

Ocellus followed, though not so closely as she might have to a pony or a human. She couldn't feel Ha’luu's emotions with anything close to the same level of detail as a more familiar species. Even what she could sense didn't necessarily combine into a coherent picture.

Would the dinosaur-alien react with aggression? Would he be humble? Or would he try to murder every member of the expedition?

Ocellus couldn't tell the alien planet apart at a glance, it looked basically like jungle to her, with purple bioluminescence visible on the edges of leaves and stems.

"This is the Accursed Crater, grave of the Final Emperor," he looked back, eyes wide. "Watchers’ name and stars sake, why would you come here?"

No reason trying to hide it anymore. "I'm sorry you had to ride along for this, Ha’luu," Ocellus said. "I'm afraid your next few days might be quite uneventful. You'll need to wait aboard our ship while we travel down into the crater and retrieve the scepter."

In that instant, Ocellus learned something else about the reptilian Zecrin; they could feel surprise.

Ha’luu's mouth hung open, exposing both rows of razor-sharp teeth. Yet he didn't lunge for her, he just stared, utterly baffled. "You crossed the galaxy..." he finally said. "You risked the wrath of our fleets, and appeared before the Watchers... all to let your souls burn away in the fire of chaotic magic?"

"Ocellus, we need you!" Gallus called, from just down the hall. "No one else can touch this thing without setting it off. You should carry it."

She kept her eyes on Ha’luu, and began backing away from him. The sooner they got moving, the less likely she would be to abandon this risky plan and leave saving the galaxy to someone else.

"We don't intend to rule over you," she said. "Only to prove a point. The Stellar Compact needs you—but before it can have you, Zecrin need to see that creatures without magic are no less significant than those who have it. Our planet had to learn this lesson too. When all our magic got briefly taken away, we saw that friendship continued. Its power was stronger than anything stolen from us. That's the power we'll use to find the scepter, and the power that will unite the Stellar Compact to fight off the Enti."

Ha’luu shook his head. "You've lost your minds, visitors. Whoever told you that there was any success possible in the crater, they filled your head with lies."

She kept backing away, into the hall. She turned the corner another moment later, and hurried through to the armory.

When they set off on this diplomatic mission, Ocellus doubted they would even need to enter this room. When visiting the planet of a previous hostile alien race, there was little reason to expect a few guns and some armor would make a difference.

Even so, Equestria had given them the best. Princess Twilight Sparkle was not a pony to leave things to chance.

Equestria was well on its way to developing powered-armor designs, like those used by the marines of other Stellar Compact races. The clothing arrayed here was simpler than that, really just knife-proof fabric with some light ballistic plates over vital areas, along with helmets full of sensors.

There were weapons too, both bladed and projectile, with which her friends had almost no experience. They could dress up like marines, but that would not make them into fighters.

On the other hoof, Gallus had already rotated the hidden storage compartment out of the wall, displaying its contents for them all to see. All but one of the strange objects was already removed from its foam casing.

Each race of Equus had contributed something to this mission, a powerful artifact that might serve as proof of power, useful tool in negotiations, or maybe even bargaining currency.

As she stepped inside, she heard the glide of metal on metal as Gallus slid the huge sword into its scabbard, set along his back. A strange curved grip emerged, one equally suited to claw or beak. That was the enchanted weapon ponies affectionately nicknamed "Excalibird", not a name the griffons seemed to appreciate.

Smolder had her own object, one classified by ponies as "dark magic." Just looking at the stone directly had a strange effect on the mind, far stronger if one happened to be a dragon. Hence it was wrapped in a thin layer of dark cloth, one that concealed all but its basic shape.

Sandbar's own object wasn't just one item, but six. The ponies wouldn't say so, but Ocellus suspected it was the equal of the others combined—the Elements. No group of total strangers could wield them, but of course they weren't.There were many reasons this particular group had been chosen.

Sandbar wore them in a tight satchel, not visibly different from a pair of saddlebags. But Ocellus could feel the power radiating from within even while it was closed. There was no telling just what the object was capable of, if they had to release the power contained within.

Maybe nothing. Maybe rewriting an entire planet.

Yona's tribe were not a particularly magical folk, and had not contributed anything of such power to this expedition. Instead, they had extracted an ancient favor from the zebras. She wore a strange piece of curved metal wrapped around one of her forelegs, banded of two separate materials that gave it stripes. A large diamond was set into the center, itself striated with imperfections.

Ocellus could not feel anything from the artifact, not at this distance. It was the only one of these objects that only affected its wearer.

Ocellus was not surprised to hear Ha’luu follow her in.

"Listen, all of you. This course is dangerous beyond anything you've considered. I do not know what strange things you have experienced on worlds outside this one, but they have not prepared you for what lies beyond.

"The Accursed Crater contains an artifact of unrivaled power and significance to all Zecrin, you clearly know that. Have you not stopped to think why such an object would not be recovered, given that?

"Many, many attempts have been made. All possible resources have been expended, short of making some infernal pact with soulless beings to retrieve it. Many lives have been spent in this futile endeavor. There isn't a young Zecrin on all Kavaal who does not dream of discovering the secret resting-place of that scepter, and uniting Zecrin. Of ending the period of custodians and stewards.

"But that is simply not possible. There is nothing waiting for you in that crater other than a painful death. Even worse, your souls will not leave to join the chorus that waits within the core of all creation. You will be destroyed utterly, erased as though you had been born an automaton. It would be better that you were born one of the cursed beings that wander this planet, for at least they live in ignorance of what they lack. You would not even have that."

"Don't you get it?" Gallus asked, stomping over to the unarmored ambassador. Maybe all that thick plating made him feel braver—more likely, it was the sword on his back. "We don't agree with your religion. Equus has all kinds of creatures living on it. Some have almost no magic, others have a ton. We don't measure how alive someone is by how many spells they can cast!"

"And we're going to prove it," Silverstream said. She hurried past them through the doorway, over to her armor. There were no artifacts for her to grab—unlike the others, her people relied far too heavily on their object to let it leave the planet.

Besides, if they failed here, the Pearl of Transformation might be the galaxy's only hope to stop the Enti. But that line of research hadn't been one shared with her, so she wouldn’t speculate on it.

Instead, Ocellus made her way to the case, then levitated the object contained within.

It was a sphere of many layers, at least a dozen levels of transparent mesh that sparked and hissed with electrical energy. That was something humans had built for them, all to allow her to bring this object along.

Trapped inside was a chunk of anomalous black stone, suspended over the mesh without touching any of its sides. All she had to do was rotate these layers, and she would release its effects, nullifying any magic that did not come from a changeling.

Humans had been able to handle it without any effect, and produce this little cage. With it, she could carry it around other magical races, without causing the otherwise debilitating symptoms of an antimagic field.

Ocellus dressed in her own armor, then slung the object carefully into her saddlebags. It would either be the most useful thing they had brought, or the most worthless. They would soon find out.

"I can't let you leave," Ambassador Ha’luu finally said, stepping in front of the doorway. "I would be held responsible for your deaths. You've come to our planet as our guests. You deserve protection. Whatever, whoever persuaded you into this self-destructive course... can't be allowed to destroy our peace before it even begins."

"But you can't stop us," Ocellus said matter-of-factly. "Your doctrine forbids one magical race to harm another, doesn't it? You would have to attack us—even if you won, you would be doing an even greater harm to the peace."

The lizard rocked violently back on his sharp claws, shuffling in his elaborate robes. She felt his anger boiling over—was he about to attack? His mind spun with strange plans, but in the end, he only slumped to one knee, stepping aside.

"Once you step into that crater, you will not return as people any longer. If you survive long enough to flee, you will return as chattel, soulless beings. We could not send you back to your home in such a sorry state."

"Unless we have the scepter," Gallus said flatly. "Then we'll prove you wrong. And Zecrin all over your empire will have to admit that creatures without any magic can still have souls. Or... be significant, or however you say it."

He slumped into a nearby chair. "Go then. If you're determined to die, you are correct. I cannot stop you."

Chapter 14

Ocellus should’ve been able to use her changeling senses to probe out into the jungle, feeling at the emotions of dangerous predators and leading her group to safety.

She should have been able to do that. Unfortunately for her, the emotional senses she had relied on for her entire lifetime just weren't working.

As night descended on the jungle, and the sweltering heat of the sun finally passed beyond the horizon, hundreds of voices split the night. Primal screams were joined by guttural howls, the yammering of strange primates, and other things Ocellus's experience had no names for.

In other circumstances, the variety of strange life would be thrilling to her: there were so many different forms to try! She would be a much better negotiator once she had tried a few dozen different species. Maybe she would finally understand how the Zecrin thought.

"Ocellus?" Someone jostled her shoulder—Sandbar, eyes wide. "I think there's something coming out of that cave." He gestured off to one side. She followed his gesture.

She had been so lost in thought, she didn't even notice the heavy footfalls echoing from deep below. Now she did, rumbling through her whole body. Whatever lived in here, it was big. Seconds later it emerged, bursting out of the trees, spreading a set of multijointed, glowing jaws.

"Run," then, much louder, "Run!" She picked a direction at random, one that would take them further away from the beast. She couldn't stop to think, other than to see if her friends were keeping up.

They did, barely. Yona led them, somehow light on her hooves instead of just trampling everything the way she would've expected. Something to do with her bracelet? The others followed in her wake.

The beast had seen them. It didn't seem interested in letting them get a clean getaway either, and stomped after them. It had six legs, each one wider than her whole body and ending in sharpened bone-claws instead of simple hooves. Where the trees ahead were too thick, it slashed through cleanly, raising a droning hum of angry insects to the air all over again.

But it didn't care. Its hide was a mat of overlapping bony plates, with openings only around its eyes. And it glowed, with a bioluminescence that rippled from its four-jointed mouth all the way to a barbed tail.

Now that would be an interesting form to copy, if only Ocellus's magic still worked. A useful one to remember too, given how many overlapping physical abilities it had.

Ocellus scanned the jungle ahead of them, searching desperately for somewhere too small for this creature to follow.

She was already exhausted, and knew her friends would be too. They couldn't keep up a pace like this for much longer without being overwhelmed.

There was nothing. The crater continued to slope downward, suggesting they were headed vaguely in the right direction. But who knew how much further they would have to keep running before they came to the ruins of the old city. Kilometers, more?

There was only one mercy—of the many predators Ocellus saw emerging from their rest in the purple light, all took one look at the creature following them and thought better of getting involved. They didn't have to fight off an army to get deep into the ruins. But could they survive against even one creature?

The monster opened its jaws wide, letting loose another terrible roar. Only this one came with a blast of blue flame, brighter and hotter than most dragonfire. Ocellus screamed: "Jump left!"

The others didn't hesitate—anypony who did would've been burned to a crisp. The ground sloped a little steeper there, turning in a curve down towards the deeper jungle. Ocellus screamed, struggling for purchase against a muddy slope. It gummed up her fancy armor, clogging her access to any tools she had brought.

Not that it mattered—she wasn't a warrior, not like some of her friends. Changelings survived through stealth, not killing.

If she hoped the ground would take them all the way to the ruins, she was disappointed. After a few seconds, the slope leveled into a wide clearing, with all the shrubs and trees stamped down flat. For all she knew, it had been made by a creature just like this.

The others rolled to a stop all around her, coming to rest in the center of the clearing. There was no easy exit—the walls on all sides were steep and muddy.

Sandbar was the first on his hooves, spinning in a desperate circle. His eyes got wider as he saw what Ocellus had already figured out: they could never get out in time.

"What do we do?"

Before she could answer, the monster following them appeared at the top of the slope. It looked down on them, trapped at the bottom, and opened its jaws again.

Ocellus couldn't read its emotions anymore, but she didn't need to. She had been hundreds of different creatures in her time, and communicated with many of them. She could guess how an animal would act.

Her hooves darted to the satchel on her back. She found the magnetic canister there, then twisted it open with all her might.

She felt the effects pass over her, unseen. Suspended in that capsule was a chunk of anomalous black stone, taken from the ancient throne of her queen.

As soon as it made contact with the air, all the magic around them stopped. The plants stopped glowing, a cloud of insects just winked out of existence like they'd never been there at all.

Maybe they aren't real. Do the trees summon them for defense?

Most importantly—when flames erupted from the monster's mouth, they extended only a few inches before choking off with a flash of black smoke. The monster's bony coat stopped glowing too, and its expression soured. What had been an enjoyable hunt for the monster was now deeply confusing for it. What had spoiled its fun?

It turned its eyes on the black rock. Like all magic-users, even animals, it felt the wrongness of that stone. Anger flashed on its face, targeted directly at her.

It jumped forward, claws digging deep into the mud as it charged down the slope for them.

Ocellus was frozen in terror. Her wings buzzed, but couldn't generate the lift to get her airborne. She could not fly away, not with the chaotic magic of the crater stealing her strength.

It was a good thing she wasn't alone.

Gallus charged forward, raising the sword in both claws. As he did, his wings suddenly found their lift, and he took off again. Not very high—but high enough that he could work the sword. His whole body seemed to glow, empowered by the blade.

Yona chose the same moment to charge forward along the ground, targeting the creature's other side. It chose her as a target, twisting its whole head in her direction. It lashed out with one terrible claw—fast enough that Ocellus could never have reacted in time.

Neither would Yona, normally. But something was strange about the way she moved. She blurred through the air, leaping above the strike, and raking her spear along the creature's bony hide. It did no damage, and the spear could find nowhere to penetrate.

But while it was facing her, Gallus slashed at its other side. The glowing sword cleaved clean through those plates of bone, exposing a chunk of pulsating purple flesh beneath. He shoved the sword all the way in, and the creature howled.

It thrashed madly then, waving its heavy limbs through the air all around it.

Sandbar backed away from the fighting, standing beside Ocellus. His hooves fumbled on the grip of a human projectile-weapon, but ultimately he lowered it. "Can't get... clear shot," he whispered. "Not sure it would do anything against that much armor, anyway."

Ocellus nodded. "Just don't make sudden movements. It's focused on them. There might be an opening.

As it turned out, one wouldn't be necessary. Smolder hadn't attacked the creature the way the dragon normally would—instead, she stood directly in front of it, holding a crystal staff outstretched in both claws. At its tip glowed a huge red stone, one larger than Ocellus's head.

Despite the dampening effects of the thronestone, it still glowed. These artifacts would be weakened with the stone exposed, but they were far too powerful to be extinguished.

"Be still!"

The command was sudden and overwhelming. At once, the entire battlefield stopped moving. Gallus landed a few feet from the beast, sword bloody in one claw.

Yona was in the middle of a dodge-roll, and so she continued rolling, all the way down the hill. Her spear stuck in the mud, useless.

Sandbar froze too—and even Ocellus felt the pressure against her mind. She struggled forward, reaching for the open capsule she held. She could force her way through it. None of the others showed that capacity, at least not now.

Most importantly of all, the monstrous beast froze. Its claws stopped thrashing, and it stopped reaching for Gallus with its multi-jointed jaws. Even on this alien world, from a creature Ocellus had never seen, she recognized fear.

Until moments ago, it believed it was an alpha-predator of the jungle, unrivaled in its dominion. Now, for the first time, something compelled it.

"You will leave us, monster. You will turn around, and forget you saw us. And if you see us again, you will do all you can to help, rather than threaten us. Go."

Thankfully, the scepter allowed its wielder to give commands to individuals, rather than all who heard it. Otherwise their group would've split up, wandering madly.

The beast turned at once, lumbering back into the jungle. It crested the muddy hill in a few seconds, then vanished over the ridge, its tail smacking once against a tree before it vanished from sight.

Smolder waited a moment until it was gone, then lowered her arms. She dropped to one knee in the mud, panting visibly from the effort. Like every artifact, they could not generate continuous power unto themselves. She provided some of the strength required.

"You guys can stop holding still," she said, exasperated. "I'm not using it anymore."

"Right." Gallus turned, sliding the sword back into its sheath. "You could've blasted it with that thing before we risked our lives."

Yona stood, shaking herself violently. Mud rained down all around her, and Ocellus retreated a few steps back, dodging the spray. "Yona thinks this whole trip was silly now. Why not turn that staff on the leaders here? They order their tribe to treat the galaxy so harshly—you could force them to be kind!"

Smolder removed a cloth from her satchel, wrapping it delicately around the staff. "I wish. It's only permanent when you use it on a dragon. Anyone else with a strong mind can resist it. Not animals, but—something tells me the most powerful spellcasters on this planet aren't going to be easy to control."

"And we would be breaking their scriptures," Ocellus added. "The entire reason they're peaceful with Equestria. If we attack them, there's no reason for them to follow their own rules in the future. Could get real ugly."

Yona sighed. She yanked her spear from the ground, spinning it rapidly to shake the mud away.

Ocellus considered sealing the capsule again—then she hesitated. The jungle was dark now, and she heard only the occasional cry of terror from the wildlife. They weren't closing in around them anymore.

The crater doesn't have no magic, it's wild magic. The local wildlife depends on that power for defense. Without it, they'll be much easier to fight.

Instead of switching it off, Ocellus just lowered it back into the satchel, still open and exposed. At the same moment, Sandbar lifted one hoof to his helmet, and switched on the headlamp.

Right, weak pony night vision. No more bioluminescence.

"I think I see buildings that way." Gallus pointed off in the direction they'd been moving before, down the crater. "Come on."

Chapter 15

It didn't take long before Ocellus began to see signs of the ancient city. The ruins resembled Zecrin structures they'd seen on their diplomatic visit so far, save for the obvious erosion and decay. They seemed strangely intact, considering how voraciously the rest of the jungle grew. Almost as though something was protecting this part.

They traveled with her chunk of the ancient thronestone open and active, draining the light as they walked. This clearly had a negative effect on the non-changelings present: even entering the jungle and giving up their magic, having the chaotic native power taken away was obviously painful for them.

"Leave it," Sandbar urged, when she stopped to fuss with the container. Of course she didn't have the strength to use her horn or change into something with more dexterity; just because her native magic wasn't being blocked didn't mean she still had it.

The Zecrin Watchers might rule a strange planet with little care for the rights of other creatures, but they had not lied about the dangers of this place. It really had taken their magic away.

"You sure?" she asked. "I can see how much this hurts you."

"Good," Sandbar said flatly. "Look around us. A jungle full of seriously uncool monsters. They like, totally depend on the jungle to make them strong. Now that it's taken away, hopefully they hide and stuff. That makes sense, right?"

"Makes sense to me," Gallus said. He didn't walk with the magic sword already drawn in one claw—but he kept the scabbard close at his side, ready to whip out the weapon within at the first sign of danger. "That's one thing no Zecrin team had before us. They don't have a way to stop magic."

So they walked on, into a yawning doorway only lightly overgrown with vines. They were already relying on human-made headlamps to light their way, since none of the native bioluminescence worked in the presence of the throne stone.

"You think we'll get our magic back when we leave?" Silverstream asked. "I mean—I'm sure my piece of the pearl is fine, but I still feel so... off."

"It came back when Cozy Glow took it all," Ocellus whispered. Before them was a long corridor, the first flat walkway they'd seen in a long time. Unlike the jungle below them, this structure somehow remained flat and stable. "It just had to stop draining us. When we leave this crater, we should heal."

"This is not what angry lizards say," Yona said, not even attempting to keep her voice down. Yet for all her roughness of speech, her movements remained almost supernaturally graceful. She dodged over cracks in the floor and bits of collapsed debris like they weren't even there.

"All who go lose their souls! As though creatures with less magic are less alive! There is so much anger in their heads, they think of nothing else!"

And that's coming from the yak. Their national pass time is breaking things.

"It does seem odd," Gallus admitted. "I've spent some time looking at records for the war. The Stellar Compact has these... big gun things. If they hit a ship, they can make all the magic stop working for a few minutes, kinda like what Cozy did. But it always comes back. Why would this crater be any different?"

They couldn't see it below them, but Ocellus felt it suddenly, reaching out from deep below. It was not a person, or in any way intelligent. This was a powerful self-sustaining thaumic field, exactly like any of their artifacts.

It was strong enough to resist the nullifying effect of the throne stone, even when the rest of the ruins fell magically silent. There was power here, power of a kind she couldn't quite understand.

She pushed the feeling to the back of her mind, that yearning to be the one to hold that power in her own hooves. Clearly the Zecrin who had touched it last had used it terribly, creating this awful crater. But she wouldn't need to repeat their mistakes.

"It's that way," she announced, pointing towards the first stairwell she saw.

"How can you tell?" Smolder asked. She exhaled a little burst of fire into the opening, illuminating a path down overgrown with insect nests. The bugs scattered before the heat and light. Whatever natural defenses they had to turn on attackers, losing their magic had probably nullified them too.

Mostly the bugs just flopped around on the ground, confused and useless. Ocellus couldn't help feeling a little sympathy for them, struggling desperately with their legs in the air.

They would probably poison all her friends if they got the chance—but she knew what that felt like. Sorry little guys.

"The scepter is down there," she said. "I can feel it through the throne stone. Another artifact. Even the Watchers didn't have anything this powerful."

Smolder eyed the ground warily, thick as it was with writhing bugs. "Down we go, then. I can't wait to get my claws all... gooey." She shuddered as she said it, then darted into the gloom.

The others followed, making rapid progress down the stony steps. As they did, the ruin transformed gradually around them. Plain stone became richly adorned, with mother-of-pearl and glittering gold set right into the wall.

The ancient Zecrin favored the same design patterns she'd seen from their modern counterparts, preferring repeating geometric designs along with vividly rendered wild scenes.

There was something strange about the jungle depicted in wall murals, something her mind couldn't quite place. Probably nothing important.

She would've kept going until she sensed the scepter above, then ordered they backtrack—but the steps ended right as she stopped feeling it underneath.

"I think I feel it too," Gallus muttered. He stretched one wing out in the right direction—then squeaked as a pulsing spider landed right across it.

Before Ocellus could blink, he drew the glowing blade, slashing the arachnid’s legs clean off. The dying bug fell to the ground, twitching and spasming in pain.

"Hey!" she snapped. "They're not attacking you. It's just losing their magic confusing them. Just shake it off."

They hurried out another doorway, into a lavishly-decorated passage. This one was the most elaborate they'd seen so far, leading to a gigantic, open doorway about a hundred meters down.

There were so many bodies.

Zecrin lay along the path, dozens of them—maybe hundreds. Most were so badly decomposed she could only guess where they had been from their fallen metal weapons and armor, which had resisted the rot of age far better.

Others seemed frighteningly fresh, with intact scales and flesh that was only just beginning to sag with decomposition. Dark scorch marks were seared into the flesh, like it had spent a few minutes on a BBQ somewhere.

"Previous expeditions," Silverstream said, horrified. "Ha’luu said there were others. I thought they would've all been eaten in the jungle. Some made it."

The Zecrin dead ahead of them varied in many respects—in color, in dress, and in equipment. Some had been naked when they died, while others carried heavy packs of gear that had survived the rot. They had only a single thing in common: they were all facing the same direction.

How could they not? Ocellus felt it, far more powerfully than she had when so much stone blocked the path between. She felt the scepter so strongly that it might as well be a voice in her mind, speaking clearly.

"Take the power to remake the world," it said. "No darkness cannot be brightened, no evil cannot be undone. No pain cannot be healed."

Their goal of uniting the galaxy—that was important, sure. But was it even necessary? With an artifact like this, maybe the Stellar Compact didn't even need the Zecrin’s help. Wielding this power, she could force the Enti to go home. Their fleets would be powerless before Queen Ocellus.

"Ocellus!" shouted a voice. Strangely not a voice enraptured by awed praise to the bug who would save the galaxy. How dare they lay a hoof on her!

"Ocellus!" Someone stood directly in front of her—Sandbar. He met her eyes, expression desperate and afraid. "Ocellus, you're walking right into a trap!"

It took incredible effort to pull her mind away from the Scepter's gravity. It was still there, like an ancient song that never stopped. Its promises of power and all she could do with that power were undimmed.

But she didn't have to face them alone. Yona continued to grip her shoulder with a hoof, holding her irresistibly. It didn't matter how much she wanted to force her way through, she wouldn't be able to overpower a yak.

"Yona thinks the stick is doing something to your thoughts," she said. "Try to forget. Remember why we're here. Remember us—saving the galaxy. Twilight depending on us. Don't you?"

She shook her head. Yet with her friends all around her, she could see they were right.

There was a reason there were so many dead Zecrin ahead of her. Each of them had stepped onto strange metal tiles on the floor. They hummed with energy even now, energy that she might've felt lifting her hair if she had any.

Electricity. Most of the floor ahead of her was covered with it, and the scepter wanted her to walk right into it.

"They all did the same thing she's doing," Smolder said. "Greed overpowered them, and they got themselves killed."

"But how do we get around it?" Gallus asked, frustrated. "Lots of us have wings, but we can't fly."

"Ocellus, are you with us?" Sandbar asked, waving one hoof up and down in front of her face. "We could really use your help planning this out."

She stopped struggling, settling down on her haunches. She turned deliberately to the side, so that she couldn't see into the hallway beyond. Through that open doorway was a throne room, as dark as the rest of the crater. Yet she could see a faint glitter of gold at its center.

She knew what it had to be, just as she knew it was the source of the magic calling to her. But if she wasn't watching it, she could ignore its power. "I'm here," she said. "You're right, it's... there. The Scepter is more powerful than I..." She shuddered. "Once someone has it, this should stop. It wants someone to use it. All that power means nothing if it's trapped inside."

"All these tough creatures came this way and died," Yona said. "But it does not work on us, because of... throne stone?"

Ocellus nodded. "Guess it isn't blocking changeling senses. There's nowhere on Equus like this, with its own ways of interfering with magic. No bug could guess how it would react."

"How do we get from out here to in there?" Sandbar asked. He put himself directly between Ocellus and the hallway. There wasn't any point, of course. With Yona holding her, she wouldn't be making any suicidal dash for the scepter.

"What about down?" Smolder asked. She pointed off to the side, where deep cracks had formed an opening in the floor. They continued towards the throne room, though at a sideways angle. They might not connect, depending on how sharply they turned. "Earthquake opened the floor. Maybe we can use that."

"Not an earthquake," Ocellus whispered. She knew it instantly, just as she knew how much power was waiting in the room beyond, demanding it be used. Did they really have to turn it over to the separatists when they finished here? "This was made when the Emperor used his Scepter. I don't know... why, or how. That Scepter is so powerful, it should've been able to do anything he wanted. Why make a magic-devouring crater?"

"I dunno," Gallus said. "But I can't just sit here, surrounded by old skeletons. This is usually the part of the story where they get up and try to attack us. I say we use Smolder's tunnel. either that, or someone tries to fly."

No one volunteered for that, not even the dragon. Together, they started climbing down into the opening.

Chapter 16

Ocellus watched from the back of the group as they advanced towards the scepter.

Smolder was not the first into the opening. With the Thronestone's powers not working on her, that meant clear danger for her to avoid—it meant the strange magical voice of the scepter could speak to her with every moment, whispering promises of power to her ears.

While they climbed, she kept her eyes on Sandbar's back, using the pony's outline to ground her in the real world. So long as she could see something real, she could push aside promises of the unknown.

The words it spoke were more tempting than any the Enti ambassador ever could say. This scepter knew her desires better than she did. It promised peace in the cosmos, an end to Enti aggression and safety for the Stellar Compact. And once that was achieved, there would be nothing stopping Ocellus from devoting her life to exploration.

With the scepter, she could ignore the boundaries of space, teleporting from planet to planet, trying the forms of every being in the cosmos. So long as she owned it, she would never need to fear old age—and her friends wouldn't either. The Alicorns had their immortality, so why shouldn't she have it? That was fair payment for saving the galaxy.

More than once, she bumped into a wall, and the shock reminded her of where she was and how she'd got there. I'm not here to take it for myself. I'm going to turn it over to one of the locals. I don't care about the scepter, this is just about proving that magic doesn't give creatures their souls.

She wasn't sure how long it took. Minutes? Hours? The next thing she knew, she was crawling up from the darkness, into a strangely light space despite their feeble flashlights. Her eyes took a moment to adjust, then finally she saw. She was at the bottom of a crater—the very bottom, the same one that formed the entire forsaken jungle that Zecrin feared to enter.

Many layers of ruin stood above, collapsed stone cities covered in vines and ancient moss. Yet the ruin remained intact, enough to highlight its basic shape. Instead of absorbing light, the walls looked almost polished to her eyes, focusing all light down at the bottom.

There stood the old emperor, covered in glittering golden armor. He stood frozen, with the scepter clutched in both claws, as though in the middle of a powerful casting.

His body was a strange mixture of decay and preservation. His scaly coat was intact, yet his eyes had rotted from his skull, and skin peeled back around his jaw to reveal polished white teeth. The course of ordinary decay should not permit a corpse to remain posed so well, yet from the back, Ocellus wouldn't have known the Zecrin was dead.

"I don't think we should get close," Silverstream said, catching Ocellus's leg with one of her claws. She hadn't even realized she was advancing on it. "Look at all the other creatures it killed. Don't you think there could be more defenses?"

Ocellus blinked, looking down sheepishly at her leg. "Y-yeah. You're probably right. Keep an eye on me until we get through this. The Thronestone isn't protecting me like it protects all of you."

What a strange paradox that the Thronestone—magic meant to cement the dominance of changelings by allowing them alone access to their magic—now made her vulnerable to attack.

Even so, Ocellus turned away from the scepter, looking at their surroundings.

It had once been a throne room, with fine metal pillars and ancient treasures now covered with jungle roots and creepers making their way down from above. There were other corpses here, many dressed with the same finery as the dead emperor.

None of those had escaped with as little decay, though. And none stood as close as they did. Had the tunnel given them a path past the deadly defenses? Or maybe the scepter was trying to kill them right now, and it couldn't get through?

"That scepter is an artifact, as powerful as anything we're carrying," Ocellus said. "The Thronestone can't stop it from working on whoever takes it. It should prevent anything like the disaster that created this crater in the first place—its power will be limited until I shut it down."

Even as she said it, she felt a sudden, powerful desire to put the stone away. The scepter demanded that she release its confined power. The dominion it had created was toothless now, its magic stolen from it until the stone was deactivated. How dare she violate its will?

Ocellus settled both hooves on the ground, facing the scepter stubbornly. She would not be compelled by an old golden stick. She had come for a higher purpose than anything it could understand, and would not be distracted from it.

"Someone has to take it. We don't know what that will do to them. You see what happened to the emperor. Whoever it is—needs to be strong enough to give it back to the Zecrin when we're done."

The group shared a nervous glance. Smolder, who had been closest to taking it herself, now backed away. "I know myself. Dragons don't like giving up shiny stuff. Easier if I don't take it."

"I don't like how... predatory it looks," Sandbar said. "I don't think it wants me to use it."

"Not me either," Yona said. "Same reasons. Those who made this think evil thoughts. Driven by their hunger. Ate others like barbarians. I will have no part."

That left three—three predators, though of very different kinds. In its way, this scepter would probably take all of them.

"I think it should be one of you," Ocellus finally said. "The Thronestone doesn't protect me. If it wants to influence me, I'll face its full force. It's trying to make me do things right now, and I'm not even touching it."

"Is it evil?" Gallus asked. "I know that sounds silly, but look. All these creatures dead. Maybe we should leave it here."

Ocellus felt satisfaction from it with those words. The artifact wanted to be left here. Somehow, this terrible jungle that killed all who entered was its desire. If they turned and walked away, it might even let them go without a fight.

"We can't do that," Silverstream said. "We have to show the Zecrin the truth. Someone has to take it. I think since—since I don't have an artifact with me, it should be me."

She had her piece of the pearl of course, though they hadn't used it during this trip. Being able to breathe underwater might serve them in many of the places Ocellus wanted to explore on her vacation, but it would do her little good bringing peace to a war-torn galaxy.

"It could kill you," Ocellus whispered. "Can you control it?"

Silverstream took a long time to answer. "I think—I think I might be the best creature for the job. I've seen what getting too much power does to someone. My whole... civilization was almost destroyed. I won't turn into another Storm King."

She stepped forward, reaching for the scepter with a claw.

The emperor's body moved. He lowered the scepter with one rotting claw, then drew a sword from his belt with the other. The scabbard fell away rotten as he did so, exposing empty ribs and broken body. Silverstream screamed, retreating from him with a flurry of feathers, though she didn't actually fly.

The body turned on Gallus, who happened to be closer—and he reacted. He met the dead emperor's blade with the flat of his own enchanted sword, then shoved back, running the corpse clean through. It passed through the body easily, letting out a hiss of dust and grave gas that made the body start to sag.

"No!" the corpse yelled. Its voice was thin, strangled even. "You defile! This proving ground was not yours!"

The corpse didn't seem to notice the sword piercing its chest, and it swung at Gallus with its own blade. Gallus might've taken a deadly blow, if Yona wasn't there to tackle him, sending them both rolling across the room.

"Your claws step where they are not wanted!" He advanced jerkily, flesh crumbling from old bones as he swung with one claw. The other clutched the scepter loosely, never trying to use it.

Smolder exhaled a burst of flame at the king—but with her magic suppressed, it didn't seem to do much but lightly char already rotten flesh, and start a few old scraps of torn cloth on fire.

It smacked her with its sword with several harsh blows, which sent her tumbling but couldn't pierce her scales.

Then it turned on Ocellus. Stay. She felt the command, louder than anything she'd sensed before. It glued her hooves to the ground. Her wings opened to try to fly, but buzzing them did nothing. The crater had stolen her magic, even if the Thronestone didn't suppress it. She whimpered, watching as the dead emperor raised his sword again.

Silverstream leaped at him from the other side. She ignored the blade and armor entirely, didn't try to use her powerful claws or beak on the rotten flesh—instead, she latched onto the scepter.

The emperor's rotten fingers gave way, torn free of the scepter as she yanked it out of his body.

The corpse dropped instantly, tumbling lifeless to the ground. Ocellus watched it disintegrate before her eyes, scales and tissue puffing away to nothing but bones and ancient armor. A pale skull gazed up at her from the ground, no longer twisted into a fury. She saw only the same emptiness that always came from death. It was over.

"Are you okay, Silverstream?" Sandbar asked, nudging her with one hoof. She stood frozen in place, the scepter clutched to her chest in one claw. Her eyes remained fixed on it.

Ocellus could see why someone might stare. It was worked of pale gold, unlike any that was commonly known to her. Tiny etchings ran along its length, with studs of thousands of little gemstones set perfectly into the metal. It glowed from within, light shining from each of the little cracks and lighting those gemstones like charged thaumic crystals.

Such stored power would have been snuffed out by the Thronestone, if they were contained in a thaumic apparatus. But an artifact was too powerful to be extinguished so easily.

Gallus made his way over, drawing Excalibird from the corpse, and cleaning it on his cloak before returning it to its scabbard. "Nice save, Yona. You don't expect someone to keep coming after you kabob them."

"I see what it was doing here..." Silverstream whispered. "The Zecrin—soft. They relied on magic so completely that they no longer needed to struggle. It hates what they became. Wanted to make the whole world back into a wilderness. Teach them to fight. Teach them with blood and death. Let them take back their magic through war."

Ocellus could see the logic now. The jungle wasn't random chaos—it was designed to kill. The scepter wanted a whole world that would cull the weak, and leave only the strongest and cleverest. It was evil beyond description—but also not. It could not comprehend life and death the same way people did.

"I d-don't know... how I can tell it no—" Silverstream whispered. Her body started to shake, her wings sticking violently open to either side.

Lighting arced along Silverstream's wings. Her eyes began to glow, suffused with the terrible power of the scepter. It couldn't do much with a dead wielder—but with a living one, how much greater harm could it cause? Maybe Silverstream really could change the whole planet. Instead of a new ally, they would cause a devastating genocide for one of the only other magical species in existence.

Sandbar and Gallus reacted, coming in from either side, trying to hold Silverstream down. They went flying seconds later, thrown backward. Without magic, an earth pony just wasn't strong enough.

Ocellus had only seconds to act, before Silverstream lost control.

Chapter 17

Ocellus had seconds to act before the power of the scepter swept over her friend, and did who knew what terrible things to her. But Ocellus had felt its temptations before, she knew how debilitating they could be. If anything, she'd prepared for this exact moment.

The wild magic of the crater stole her power away, even if the Thronestone allowed changeling magic to function normally. She couldn't levitate it out of Silverstream's grip. But even if her levitation was still working, she had her doubts that the scepter would permit itself to be taken away from its wielder. It was a powerful relic with a will of its own, not something that an outsider could easily unravel.

"Silverstream!" she called, her voice echoing through the empty throne room. She didn't move towards her, didn't try to snatch the relic away or attack her. That would only end the same way it had for the others, with them groaning on the floor in pain. Hopefully they didn't break anything. Silverstream wasn't trying to hurt them, right?

Her friend looked up, clutching the scepter with one claw. Her mouth formed words, but nothing Ocellus could read. She couldn't even sense her emotions to tell what she might be feeling. This was how other creatures felt all the time, deaf to anything but the most obvious physical signs. No wonder they had such a hard time getting along.

"Silverstream," she said again, a little quieter this time. "Look at me."

She did. Lightning crackled around her, scorching the ground with little bolts of energy. Tiles shattered, and the jungle pulsed briefly overhead. That came from the scepter itself, overcoming the Thronestone’s influence in this small area. "You can't take it from me!" she called. "We can't hide forever! A creature needs to take charge, teach them to be strong! We can't be victims again, can't let bigger creatures with big armies force us to cower and hide. We have to go out there and take what we're owed!"

"Nuts," Yona said. "The bird is nuts. Like dead emperor."

Ocellus ignored her, hoping Silverstream would too. Being told she was crazy would not help pull her back to reality. "It's using your memories against you," she whispered, her tone as gentle as she could make it. "Just like it did against me. You're not even thinking about the scepter right now, are you? You're remembering the Storm King."

Silverstream's grip tightened. Her whole body started to shake, and she clutched the scepter up to her chest. "We're not that different. Equestria... Stellar Compact... trying to hide away from the Enti. We think they'll give up, but they won't. The universe is cruel, Ocellus! Only power trumps power. We needed more of it, here it is! The Zecrin's greatest king, more magic than an Alicorn, right here! We'll cut evil fleets from the sky! We'll destroy the shields of their shrouded worlds! The invasion will turn against them at last!"

"You sound like him." Gallus clambered up into a sitting position beside the emperor's broken body, nudging the old bones. "The lizard probably wanted good things too. Thought he would save his tribes, make them strong. But look where he ended up—rotting away in a crater somewhere. Instead of uniting the Zecrin, they're the ones hiding now. They came up with excuses so they didn't have to help, then just closed their eyes and pretended there wasn't a war."

Silverstream fixed them with a furious glare. "The emperor gave his life for Zecrin everywhere! He saw the growing rot, he knew they were turning weak. He tried to change the world, teach them to be strong again. But he... failed."

Silverstream stared down at the scepter. Her claws twitched unsteadily. "He wanted to make the world—mean. Make it kill all the creatures he thought were too weak. But the others stopped him. The other Zecrin worked together, contained the corruption so it couldn't spread."

Silverstream dropped the scepter. It clattered to the ground, sliding away from her. She dropped in the same moment, panting with exhaustion. "Ugh. It was in my head..."

Ocellus embraced her, holding the hippogriff with one wing. "But you let go. That's more strength than the old emperor had."

She looked up, over to where Sandbar had fallen. "Sorry I hit you! Are you okay?"

He nodded, shaking himself out. "Just a little dazed. Better than the locals, anyway." As he said it, one of the other bodies beside him crumbled away.

"I don't think any creature who isn't a Zecrin could control it," Smolder said. She stopped beside the scepter, but didn't try to pick it up. "It's like the one we dragons made. Other creatures have tried, but it doesn't work the same for them. Magic can tell the difference, you know?"

"That is... problem," Yona said, frustrated. "We have to bring it with us, then give away. Have to get back with it, or ambassador will make us slaves. He already said so, remember?"

Ocellus knew what she had to do. "Every-creature, stand back," she said. She slung the thronestone in front of her, gripping it in her mouth. "I have a plan. Maybe a little dangerous. Might want to be ready with your sword in case I can't control it, Gallus."

He drew it, backing away from her. "You sure you know what you're doing, Ocellus? This sword doesn't take prisoners."

"I know we need the Zecrin to join the Stellar Compact. To do that, we have to get this scepter out of the crater with us. I know it's going to try and control any creature who takes it."

"But our friendship was stronger," Sandbar said. "It didn't work. That's what the Zecrin who came before didn't have."

She nodded. "I'll need your friendship in a second—each of you." Ocellus twisted, sealing away the power of the Thronestone once again. The effects were instantaneous. Where the jungle creeped in around them, light flickered from its vines and leaves, pulsing a rapid alarm. Thousands of different creatures all raised their voices in fury, predators of every size with a sudden, common enemy. From all around the room, the corpses of an ancient court began to jerk into motion, just as the emperor had done. The scepter's power was much stronger now that it wasn't being suppressed. But Ocellus was counting on that.

The others all felt it too, gravity drawing down towards the scepter. It wanted a wielder, someone who could exact its will and channel its power all across the Zecrin empire.

Ocellus stood right beside it, so the others would never beat her to it. She reached down, then touched gently against it with one leg.

As she expected, the result was instantaneous. A sudden explosion of power, as the scepter's magic overflowed through her body, ignoring the suppression of the jungle crater. It had created this magical dead-zone, after all, and thus had power over it.

Ocellus didn't use that power to unmake the world, or blast Enti warships from space. Instead, she took it into herself, and transformed. She had seen plenty of examples by now—lean Zecrin bodies, with their long claws, flexible scales, and mouths full of sharp teeth. That was more than enough exposure to become one of them.

The magic flashed, then went out. Suddenly the court looked so much smaller, now that Ocellus's body was stretched into a forward-leaning bipedal stance. She flicked the scepter between two claws, then lifted it firmly in one.

She felt—overwhelming confusion. Transformation magic was not unknown to the Zecrin, and perhaps had been even better known in whatever ancient day it came from. Was she one of them, or an intruder like the others, seeking to steal it away for some unknown war?

"Are you okay?" Silverstream asked. She watched from closer than the others, one claw extended. "I know how much it tries to mess with your mind. Whatever it's telling you to do, you can fight it!"

"It... doesn't know what to tell me," she whispered. Ocellus felt it in her mind, trying to make sense of her. But she wasn't just one creature anymore, she was thousands. Every form she'd taken changed her nature just a little, leaving her as nothing that could be easily classified.

I don't want to take you away, she thought, as though the artifact could even understand words. The emperor thought that Zecrin could only be saved through violence, but his plan didn't work. Soon creatures everywhere feared his jungle. But I have another idea.

Ocellus lifted the scepter high overhead in one claw. She felt resistance from the object—it had been committed to one vision for so long that it was reluctant to change. But it knew everything she knew. It saw the sorry state of Zecrin society, growing soft and fat when a desperate conflict waited for their help not far away.

There was another way to make Zecrin strong again. "We won't have to force them," she said. "We'll use a far stronger magic than that: compassion."

All Zecrin were missing now was the understanding that the galaxy was full of suffering creatures who needed their help. There was already a powerful adversary waiting, a worthy foe who would one day threaten their safety too, if they didn't stand up.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Gallus said. "Sure looks like you're about to do something big, Ocellus. Maybe you should get along with it. Sounds like some big stuff coming our way!"

She was so overwhelmed with the spell she hadn't noticed at first. But Gallus was right, many creatures were hurrying down into the crater. The jungle had plenty of predators with wings, and all of them smelled vulnerable prey.

Take it from me, she thought. Stasis is the enemy. For a creature to survive, they have to change.

Maybe it was her words—maybe it was her transformation—or maybe it was just her sincerity. Whatever it was, Ocellus felt the spell explode from her in a single, terrible blast of magic. It overflowed from the scepter, rippling out and away from her in a wave.

Because she was holding it, Ocellus felt its effects blasting across the land. She didn't ask it to change the minds of Zecrin, or attack them in any way. Her actions alone would be all the testimony she needed.

She didn't attack the Zecrin race the object wanted so desperately to protect. Instead, she attacked the jungle itself. This crater was a scar on the homeworld, a reckless failure that may've doomed Zecrin everywhere, if it had succeeded. With the emperor's corpse finally turned to dust, it was time to undo the damage.

She didn't feel her magic coming back to her the way the others would—she had the scepter's power running through her, or she couldn't have cast the spell in the first place. But she saw them stand, strength returning to each of them in turn.

At the same time, the terrible monsters of the jungle dropped where they were. Those that came from native species of the homeworld changed back into the benign animals that had birthed them. Those the scepter had conjured from nothing to guard its resting-place and challenge champions to fight dissolved into mist completely, their magic reclaimed.

Ocellus clung to the scepter a little longer, as the crater of magical decay rejoined the rest of the planet. Its plants returned to normal, and embraced the magical harmony that had brought Zecrin so much joy in the ancient days.

As quickly as it came, the spell was done. Ocellus didn't hold on one second more than she had to, stuffing the staff away into her satchel and strapping it down tight. It hung a little tighter on her transformed body, but it would last.

"I think... the hike back will be easier than the way in," she said. Her voice sounded different—toothier in this body. But that didn't faze her. "Is everyone alright?"

One by one, the magical spotlights illuminating the throne room began to dim, leaving them with only the steady pulsing of the planet's harmony through the jungle bioluminescence.

Gallus slid the sword away, then took to his wings, hovering beside her. "Now that I can do this again? Yeah. Feeling pretty good."

Chapter 18

Getting back from the dangerous anti-magic crater proved a far easier task than getting themselves lost in it in the first place. Granted, it was much easier to climb out of the place when every part of it wasn't trying to kill them. They could've flown out, assuming Ocellus was willing to change into something big to carry the two members of their group who couldn't get airborne.

But even while she wasn't wielding the scepter herself, she had a feeling that trying to carry it while looking like another creature would anger it. She had used the object meant only for Zecrin, she had to stay this way until she handed it off to someone more deserving. It only made sense.

As they walked, they discovered plenty of signs that they were not the only ones to pass that way, and recently. A large Zecrin airship was still actively on fire, wedged into the space between two large trees. A number of bodies lay scattered around it, in various stages of devoured.

"Those look like uniforms," Sandbar said. "You think the Watchers ordered creatures to go after us?"

"The ambassador knew about our plan," Silverstream whispered. "After going in here, we didn't have magic, so they could attack us if they wanted. Isn't that how their religion works, Ocellus?"

She nodded, bobbing her head the way the natives had done. The gesture was a little different, but close enough that it still made sense. "How it used to work. It doesn't actually say creatures with magic. It says that species with souls need to respect and make no war with each other, and protect each other when they're threatened. They got around helping by saying that only creatures with magic had souls. No magic, not a person, so the Enti could go ahead and kill the whole Stellar Compact if they wanted. Wasn't their problem."

They continued past the burning wreck. Strangely, there were still some large local animals around, lurking in the shadows around the crash. Ocellus didn't need to be a changeling to know exactly what those scavengers would be eating as soon as they didn't feel threatened by bigger creatures.

"Used to work," Yona whispered. "What you did—did you change them? Force the stubborn almost-dragons to see? Someone should."

"In a way," Ocellus said. She could've explained the complex reasoning—how creatures who had lost their magic taking the scepter and then curing the planet of its corruption would be seen. But Yona had no patience for the local religion, now or ever.

"I was afraid just... taking the scepter wouldn't be enough to convince them," she said. "The ones in charge don't want to give their position over to an emperor. They might work very hard to take back control, hide what we did. But healing the planet—that is too big. Everyone will feel it. They can't bury their heads and pretend."

"Good." Yona wasn't the curious type, anyway. Simply sounding plausible was enough for her to nod with satisfaction. "We win. This is what matters."

"They'll join the Stellar Compact," Sandbar said. "Right? Once they realize what they should've known all along?"

She nodded again. "I don't know how fast. Changing a whole society takes a long time. But big wars take a long time too. If they send magical experts to the Compact, that might be enough. Just give everyone a better way to fight Enti. But knowing what I do about them, I'm sure they'll send warships too. They've spent all this time craving a fight. They're about to find one."

Ocellus was half-expecting to find the Fortuna a smoking ruin by the time they finally emerged from the jungle. But as the sun finally rose, and they passed through the trees, she found the ship still parked exactly where they left it, and not melted into a broken puddle.

Nor was it alone. Another ship rested on the grass not far away, one far older than the shiny wreck that crashed into the crater behind them. This one had different symbols on it, the same marks she'd seen from Degara when he arrived with their desperate plan.

A huge white pavilion whipped about in the ocean breeze, positively overflowing with Zecrin. Almost all of them wore the white cloaks of the Separatists. A few wore armor, and carried weapons. These pointed to Ocellus and the others as they emerged from the jungle, so that over a hundred different Zecrin poured out, filling the field. All of them watched as they approached, standing in solemn silence.

A familiar figure appeared from the crowd, one of the few who was brave enough to emerge. Degara, now wearing metal armor instead of a cloak. But the change wasn’t that strange, not for creatures as naturally warlike as the Zecrin. He eyed them, but most attention was focused on Ocellus. "I did not know one of our own had braved the jungle."

"Oh, they didn't," she said. "You spoke with me earlier, remember? I'm the changeling. Your scepter didn't want another kind of creature using it."

She reached into her satchel, removing it carefully with one claw. The desire to use it to cast some world-changing spell was not nearly as strong as before—even artifacts could run low on power and take time to recharge. It would be days, maybe weeks, before this one was ready for something as powerful again.

But no magic was required for what happened next. Every Zecrin in that field, from the snapping youths to the wrinkled elders to Degara right in front of her—dropped low to the ground. They didn't fall to their knees the way ponies or even humans did, but they bowed forward, so low their heads almost touched the ground.

"Emperor." The whisper echoed through them, spoken with religious reverence. "She holds the scepter."

"Technically," Ocellus said. "But Degara, I think the scepter wants one of you to rule, not me. If I kept this power, I'd have to stay Zecrin forever. Your planet is beautiful, and being one of you is very interesting—but not forever. I couldn't be stuck as one thing."

She held out the scepter, extending it towards Degara. "I promised you we would give this away. Before I do... I have one decree. My first and only act as emperor."

The bowing Zecrin all stood, watching her. Several of them had cameras—this entire encounter was being filmed. It would probably end up in a history book one day. Did she deserve to be part of some distant alien race's whole future, just because she found an old stick in the woods?

Unfortunately the alternative was the Zecrin hiding from the war until the Stellar Compact was annihilated and the Enti ruled the galaxy.

"You can't!" someone yelled, pressing through the crowd. It was Ha’luu, emerging from the Fortuna and fighting his way through the watching Zecrin. "You went into the crater, I saw it! You've sacrificed your souls on this insane quest! Without power, you have no authority! Even your lives are forfeit if any creature wishes to take them."

He was already through the crowd, only a dozen meters or so from Ocellus. None of the armored Zecrin moved to stop him—what were they supposed to do against someone in ambassador tassels, who did the will of the Watchers?

He reached toward Ocellus with a claw, attacking with a sudden force of will.

Ocellus was not trained in magical combat, not like some unicorns. Even so, she recognized the attack for what it was—a powerful, direct strike, meant to kill the target on impact. Ambassador Ha’luu meant what he said about any creature killing them who wanted to.

Unfortunately for him, she was still wielding the emperor's scepter. Maybe if he'd taken even a few seconds to consider what her transformation meant, he would've realized they still had their magic.

Ocellus could never have reacted in time, not on her own. But the scepter gave her strength and reflexes she never could've managed.

She turned aside the strike, gathered its power together, and aimed it back at the caster. But not to kill—that would be too easy. Ocellus didn't know much about killing, but she knew a whole lot about transformation.

The ambassador grunted, toppling to the ground with pain. "H-how... can't... saw you go inside..." The change progressed rapidly. His body straightened, tail and scales vanishing and leaving only pink skin.

"You tried to kill me," she said, gripping the scepter in both claws. "I was more merciful with you... because my kind do not kill. We change. Now we will see if you can learn to change too."

Every eye was on them. Gallus drew his sword, holding it protectively between them and the ambassador. But there would be no need to fight him anymore. Those hands didn't have razor claws anymore, and the teeth in his mouth were barely even sharp.

"W-what have you done to me?" he managed, body shaking back and forth, naked in the grass. "My magic, I... it's gone!"

"Lucky for you I still have a decree to make," Ocellus said, turning her back on the ambassador. She raised the scepter again, and this time wasn't interrupted. "Let all who see us now witness we lost our magic, and had it returned again. We've proven for all of you that magic is not the mark of a soul. It is power, but it can be given, or taken, and the individual remains alive.

"Let all Zecrin everywhere witness that the mark of a soul is consciousness itself—that all creatures on all worlds who can reason—who can communicate, who can feel love—where you find Friendship, you will find creatures with souls. Any Zecrin who search for evidence can travel here, to where once a crater stole away the magic of all who entered, and creatures devoured any who crossed its borders."

She gestured back the way she came, pointing. "As the magic has been returned to this land, so will magic one day come to other creatures we find in the stars. We are never to judge them for less, ever."

"It is recorded," Degara said.

"We will obey," many others agreed. Not that the direction would be hard for this separatist group to believe. It was their entire purpose, after all. By giving them the scepter, Ocellus would be overturning the balance of power on an entire world. She might even be inciting a civil war.

Hopefully friendship would win out.

"With that command, I relinquish my title." She turned back, offering Degara the scepter. "Take it, Degara. Your world should be ruled by someone native to its soil, not a stranger."

He did. For an instant, the scepter had two claws on it, and was torn between two wills. Then Ocellus let go.

Degara responded to the scepter better than she had. But most of the magic was drained now, and he wasn't pretending to be Zecrin. "This isn't a command—but I suggest you end this diplomatic visit here," he said. "With what just happened... there will be many who think to do as this ambassador did. I hope you will return—after Zecrin everywhere see and understand. Not before."

Ocellus bowed to him, then changed back into herself with a dramatic flash. A few Zecrin in the watching crowd gasped at what they saw. The camera kept recording. "We look forward to that day, Degara."

They left, leaving the ambassador curled in a limp bundle in the grass.

"Just like that?" Smolder asked, as they ascended the ramp to the Fortuna. "You didn't want to order them to join the Stellar Compact? You know, the... whole point of us being here?"

"No." Ocellus waited just inside, then retracted the ramp. Degara was right about leaving. If they could get off-world quickly enough, they could potentially avoid the word getting out about what they'd done—for a little while longer. "They have to make that choice for themselves. But at least this time, they'll come with the understanding of knowing all creatures are worth protecting, not just the ones with magic."

The inside of the ship was almost exactly as they'd left it. One of the computer panels had been removed, and the workings were exposed—but from the look of things, the magical Zecrin could make little sense of entirely non-magical human engineering. The computer still responded to their commands, warming the engine for launch.

Ocellus was all the way to the captain's chair before she noticed a set of eyes watching from one corner of the room—a human captive, cowering behind a chair. One of Ha’luu's slaves. "Right! He brought his whole staff!"

She waved. "Hey, Smolder, could you round up the ambassador's... staff? Get them situated for launch. They've just lost their jobs, but you can go ahead and tell them we have something better for them." She met the terrified woman's eyes, speaking slowly. "The Stellar Compact doesn't have slaves. If you have any family, I'm sure they'll be happy to see you again."

"On it." Smolder rose from her chair, walking calmly over. "Hey, friend. We're about to launch, let's find you a couch. And anyone else aboard... don't want anyone getting hurt..."

They left.

While they worked, Gallus and Silverstream took their stations. Engines cycled, then began to hum.

"I think we'll need FTL as soon as we leave the gravity well," Ocellus announced. "Gallus, plot a jump out of Zecrin space. If there's anything waiting for us up there, let's be ready to be somewhere else."

"Where?" He flipped through the controls, scrolling through a map of nearby space.

"Anywhere. We'll work out the details of getting back to Equestria once we're away from here."

"We actually did it," Sandbar muttered, from the station just beside her. "All these years they've been refusing ambassadors, and we did it. We won the war."

She grinned back. "Don't get too far ahead. Even if the Zecrin accept their new emperor, even if they join the fighting, we still have to win. We don't have peace in the galaxy yet."

"But we will," Silverstream said. "One day. When the Zecrin accept that other creatures matter, they'll join, and they'll help us win."

"I hope so." Ocellus settled into her chair, snapping several straps into place. "Helm, go for orbital. I think we've overstayed our welcome."

The Fortuna rocketed upward, leaving the healing scar of the emperor's crater behind.

For better or worse, Ocellus and her friends had done as much for the Zecrin as they could. It was up to them to accept the lesson of friendship.

Chapter 1

After Twilight’s elevation to Alicorn, it was rare indeed for anything to make her feel small. In a single moment of power, she’d gone from an average unicorn to a princess whose magical powers would be told about in stories for generations to come, standing taller than most ponies in Equestria.

She had used that power to defend her world, fighting alongside her pony friends and eventually many other creatures as well, all united against those who would oppose harmony. She had even dared to think that her contributions made a difference.

Yet her arrival at Antioch made all that feel incredibly… insignificant.

She’d known the Stellar Compact was larger than one planet since she was a child, and travel beyond Equestria’s atmosphere was still a fascinating novelty for the Exploration Service and its single tiny ship. It was fine to think of the Compact in the abstract. A thousand stars, they said? Numbers that big might as well be infinite in a single organic brain.

But now that she stood on Antioch’s own soil, she realized just how far Equestria still had to go. While they had the Alicorns to regulate the sun and the moon, the Stellar Compact had taken a star and contained it.

The number of creatures living here was so vast that even Twilight had difficulty processing it. How many ponies was a trillion? What happened when you had a billion times more than that?

The Celestia’s Grace was a wonder to behold on Equestria, a ship so vast that it had to be built in orbit. A ship that foals had been able to see through their telescopes and say, “Now we will join them. It’s our turn.”

Here aboard the bridge, Twilight Sparkle felt like she’d snuck away from magical kindergarten into Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, and the older kids were about to show her why she should go home.

“And we’re sure these are the friendly creatures?” Rarity said, from the communications station. Of all Twilight’s friends, she took most naturally to negotiating with the translation computer, the so-called “Babel Circuit” they’d been given. Even for Twilight herself, talking through it felt like a burden. “It doesn’t seem terribly natural to make their system so dark, does it?”

Twilight didn’t have the chance to answer—Rainbow beat her to it from the helm. “It’s just like weather planning. When you let a cloud get away, that’s water that could’ve been on somepony’s crops. I think they’re treating sunlight the same way. Why waste it?”

“Guidance lock granted by Antioch relay 0-0-0-A1,” the computer said, its voice flat. “Do we accept?”

Twilight nodded. “The relay should be sending us to their… castle?” Celestia herself hadn’t made it terribly clear. Probably because she didn’t understand any better than Twilight. The Stellar Compact was unbelievably strange. Its members were magicless, yet still open to friendship with aliens.

Better than their enemies.

“The route we’ve been given navigates the diffuse swarm of stations inside its perimeter. We’ll be joined by capital destroyers, before being led to…”

“Homeworld, right?” Pinkie suggested. “That’s where I’d want friendly ponies to sign important treaties. I’d want them to see my home! See how welcoming we could be.”

“Negative,” the computer said. “There are five separate homeworlds in the Compact. Six, when Equestria adds its signatures. The database made available to us does not include information about the location of any of them. Perhaps more information will be made available once we formalize our alliance.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. As well-meaning as the database program could be, she wasn’t surprised that it didn’t have a clue what was really going on. Of course they don’t want anyone to know where they come from. They’re fighting a war with magical beings. Until us, they probably didn’t even believe we could be friendly.

Antioch appeared from a distance to be a solid object, englobing the star so completely that diffuse infrared was all that escaped. But as they got closer, their engines engaging a gentle series of turns and maneuvers along invisibly marked highways through space, Twilight saw the truth.

The individual pieces of Antioch, uncountable millions of them, were actually fairly far apart. They hadn’t built a single sphere with physics-defying structural properties. They just had enough little stations and habitats that together the entire star was theirs.

“How long until Princess Celestia and Luna send the ponies meant to be emissaries?” Rainbow asked, her voice obviously frustrated. “I’m not sure I’m looking forward to living in an office doing boring diplomacy stuff for a few months.”

“I’m sure if there were other ponies meant for the job, they’d be along for the ride,” Applejack said. She was settled comfortably into the engineer station, though the Celestia’s quality of construction meant she’d had very little to do for the trip. “That means we’re the best ponies for the job, don’t it Twi?”

Twilight nodded. “For the time being. Equestria is training replacements for us already, who won’t need the Babel program to speak to the Compact’s many races. But that takes time, even when they start with the most magically-inclined polyglots they could find.”

“Yeah.” Rainbow slumped into her seat. “You think they have Hoofball teams here? Maybe I can find one to join.”

If only Rainbow was watching the tactical display the way Twilight was, she might’ve been a little less flippant. The further into Antioch’s sphere they penetrated, the more ships she saw. Dozens first, then hundreds, then so many the user-interface of their computer didn’t want to display them anymore, and the list went right off the screen. Millions? Billions?

There weren’t just more creatures here than she’d ever conceived of, but there was a bigger military too. These creatures do things on scales we’ve never imagined before. And for all that, the Stellar Compact still wanted Equestria as members. The first friendly magic users. A desperately-needed strategic asset during a war that Twilight knew wasn’t being won.

Winners didn’t invite a single planet with no military technology to speak of onto the security council of a thousand-year-old alliance of star systems and species.

Now we have to live up to all that.

“Incoming transmission,” Rarity said. “It’s, uh… Compact Starcarrier Eucharist, identifying itself as the head of our escort. They want to speak with us.”

Twilight straightened in her chair, adjusting the formal dress uniform. Equestria barely had a navy, let alone militaristic uniforms worn by these other species. But such an important signing called for adopting a little of their customs, at least for a while. “Put them on.”

The bridge had a wide curved screen wrapping around its entire perimeter, which pretended to be a window when it wasn’t in use for anything else. Unlike the fiction Twilight had grown up idolizing as a child, there was usually very little to see. She didn’t expect to see much of any battles they got into from here. Only Antioch itself was vast enough to see from the window, without the computer’s help zooming in.

The fake window near the front was replaced with a similar view of a similar bridge—a wide, empty space several stories in apparent size, with several strange creatures moving in the background.

The one she took to be the captain was what she’d come to call an “aljong,” a birdlike creature with two thin legs and a set of feathery wings instead of legs or arms. It still managed to wear a uniform. Twilight suspected it was male, and its voice seemed to confirm that suspicion, though she couldn’t be sure. “Equestrian Capital ship, I am Kalsbe. Are you ready for your flight into the core?”

Near his side was another chair, and on it a creature Twilight knew a little better. She was a human, the ones who had introduced Equestria to the Stellar Compact. She whispered something Twilight couldn’t understand.

Rarity caught it, though. “We’re muted. She says: ‘I told you they’re adorable.’”

Great. The whole galaxy will be respecting us in no time. “We’re ready, Captain Kalsbe. Though… messages said Antioch was a safe system. Your invaders aren’t even close to this far.”

“They have not penetrated this deep into Compact space,” Kalsbe said. “I didn’t mean whether your ship was prepared for battle, there will certainly be none today. But whether its occupants were mentally prepared for what awaits when we are inside. I’m sure an important diplomat like you can see something symbolic in all this, inviting you into the center of the Compact’s power. But I just like it for the view.”

Twilight could see her crew wasn’t exactly thrilled with his attitude. She put on her best diplomatic smile. “We’re ready to follow you, Captain. See you at… wherever we’re going.”

“You’ll know when we get there,” he said. “Eucharist out.”

“Are they all going to be like that?” Rainbow asked, as soon as the window projection returned. “I don’t know if I could listen to that all day.”

“Gee, how could you manage?” Applejack said sarcastically. “A creature bragin’ about what they’ve doin’ all the time. What could that be like?”

It didn’t take the Celestia’s Grace much longer to break through the outer layers of habitat, and into an incredible globe of light.

Yes, the star in the center was tiny and modest as stars went, a faint yellow main-sequence star.

The sky around them didn’t seem black. Instead of a horizon of endless distant stars, Twilight saw land. Forests, mountains, rivers and oceans, in overlapping layers that shimmered and shifted as they moved. She spun around in a slow circle on her bridge, and with her eyes out of focus it almost felt as though she was inside a gigantic hollow planet, with a distant core far away.

And in the center of it all, their apparent destination. Not a habitat like the others, or at least not the ones made to simulate a bit of natural environment. There was a planet there, or the broken chunks of one. A single huge slice of outer-crust was covered with city so dense it was almost a metal skin, while the other chunks of planet further away were processed by some vast machine.

“Are you sure they need our help?” Fluttershy asked, as they moved in close over the space station that was just a piece of planet. “Who are they in danger from exactly?”

“Dunno,” Pinkie said. “But we don’t have to do this to Equestria, right? I wouldn’t want to live on a place that was all in… pieces, like that.”

The computer’s voice spoke before Twilight could. “Antioch Prime postdates the swarm by many years. The planet was previously uninhabitable, this close to the star. As you can see, the settled side of the station faces away from the star, using an orbital reflector for light. There was no life anywhere in this star system before it was colonized. No creatures were harmed to create this place, and the equivalent of billions of worlds was created for them to live on. This is a city, but there are jungles, seas, forests, tundras, and many other environments you have never experienced, all created from the wreckage of these and other dead worlds.”

“We don’t have to do this to Equestria,” Twilight said. “They didn’t do it to their home, you just heard it. And… I’m not sure ponies would ever do this. How much land do we really need? A billion planets? We could keep growing… forever.”

“At the Equestrian growth rate of two percent, you would fill every station in this swarm in a little over two thousand years,” the computer said. “And we have docking authorization. The Security Council is waiting for you.”

Chapter 10

Ocellus stared back at the alien, her wings buzzing nervously to either side. Hopefully the alien wouldn't know changelings well enough to read her from body language; they were different enough that she might not have anything to worry about. Humans had some difficulty reading pony emotions without instruction, so the same might be true for the Enti.

Unfortunately for her, the alien did nothing to reveal his own feelings—the Enti's mind remained entirely blank to her. It wasn't the absence she sometimes felt around the psychologically damaged, who couldn't feel emotions in a normal way—this was intentional, somehow. He didn't want his feelings to be known.

"Just surrender the galaxy," he had said. "And this war can end."

Fortunately, she wasn't alone at this negotiation. Though she was stunned, Silverstream sat upright, settling her little teacup back into the tray. "You can't think that's an actual offer. My kind knows what it's like to face an enemy who wants to control us. We took every option we had to so we could keep our freedom, even if that meant giving up our homeland. The galaxy doesn't owe you anything."

Was the air getting warmer? Ocellus thought she could sense some emotion from the ambassador, though it lasted for such a brief moment she nearly dismissed it. "This is not the same as some... petty tribal war," Xender said. "I know it may feel similar to you, strangers to the galactic community. But know what sets us apart from the young races. Zecrin, Divensons, Aljongs... they are little children, newly stumbling onto a field of conflict they could not understand. For years we watched, waiting to see if they would learn to coexist in peace."

"They did," Ocellus said. "The Stellar Compact ended all war between—"

He raised one hand, silencing her. It wasn't magic, but the force of his personality might as well be.

"Your order of events is misinformed. Only when faced with our arrival did those children unite. The moment they face no more external threat, they will return to slaughtering each other pointlessly. You must understand, ponies—we have been watching for a very long time. Eons beyond your imagination. We did not take more of the galaxy, because we wished to see what would arise. Wonderful things, yes... any parent can take pride in the achievements of their children, even if they are stumbling and imprecise. But eventually the young do too much damage to the house, and it's time to lock them in their rooms. So it is with the galaxy—the other species run amuck. Under our rule, there would be peace. The galaxy we will create is not a dark place."

"Why should it be you?" Silverstream asked. She wasn't very good at keeping her emotions under control. "Why not the Zecrin, or... the humans, even? They're strong enough to hold you back, they united the galaxy, not you."

He laughed, booming and energetic. "The only race younger to the galactic stage than Humanity is Equestria. Those creatures have... potential, certainly. Perhaps today they sign the others to their pact. Maybe tomorrow they enslave the Divensons and work them to death. You don't know what they're like. If you did, I think you would rather be our friends instead."

Ocellus snapped her wings closed abruptly, glaring at him now. Hopefully her features wouldn't be easy for him to read, given how much most creatures relied on reading the eyes to judge emotion.

"There is one key difference between Humans and you, Enti. You could decide to stop killing them, and end the fighting. The war could end, and everyone could go back to their homes. There would be no more orphans, no more refugees, no more widows. If you really care about peace, why can't we negotiate a cease-fire? I'm sure the Stellar Compact would be willing to make many concessions. Maybe you could appoint supervisors to the Compact to enforce the peace between young races. Maybe you could write laws and agree to make everyone follow them. There are ways to have peace without a war, if that's what you want."

Xender rose abruptly from his chair, stalking a few steps away. His long whiplike tail cut through the air with repetitive cracks of sound, yet somehow he didn't seem to notice. "The time for such a solution is gone, Equestrians. You are too new to this, you don't understand the factors involved.

"We cannot abandon the offensive now—humans breed so rapidly, and spread between the stars like a plague. In ten generations, we would be so outnumbered that even our great ships could no longer defend the border. This war must contain all threats, and secure a future for our children."

He dropped down to one knee in front of them, producing something from a pocket. It was a scroll, tightly bound and in the Equestrian style. Like actual parchment, with a wax horseshoe holding it closed. So they knew more about ponies than they let on.

Ocellus took it in her magic, but didn't open it yet.

"We have an offer for you. You will have a long time to consider it, maybe months or even years. I ask only that you deliver it to your princess."

"What kind of offer?" Silverstream asked. "Join you or die? Heard that one before."

"No." He bent down, gathering the tea set in both hands, and walked it over to a bin on the far wall. He casually tossed it inside, to the sound of shattering glass. "You are unique, and we Enti do not destroy what is beautiful. It is a promise not to invade your homeworld. We may destroy any station in orbit, and conquer any colony in your home system. But we will leave your homeworld alone."

He turned again, folding his arms dismissively. "That is the promise. The offer is this: so long as Equestria sends no ships against us, you may decide to abandon the war at any time. In exchange, we will leave you full autonomy of your home system. You may do with it whatever you wish, and our laws will not touch you. We will send no ships, no troops, no spies."

He gestured with one hand, and the roaring fire went out, plunging them into sudden darkness. "We gave this same offer to the humans, to the divensons, and the aljongs, and many others you do not know. They are living in peace in their space, and never needed to sacrifice lives in a needless war.

"Your creatures may continue to join and fight, if they wish to throw their lives away. They will die, or be enslaved, as is our right for conquered enemies. However, on the day a single ship assembled in Equestria fires upon a vessel of ours... the offer will be closed, and all that will remain to you is subjugation to your rightly-guided masters."

He said it with absolute confidence and finality. Indeed, he gestured, and a second later the door swung open. "I have instructed my secretary to give you free access to the database, if you request. Study the way we treat the lesser races under our care. Ask yourselves who you would have ruling over you—us, gentle and benevolent, or the Zecrin?"

Ocellus glared back at him. She wanted to scream. But shouting at the ambassador for representing what his country wanted was hardly going to encourage future cooperation. She tucked the scroll away, retreating towards the door. "Equestria will always be open to considering peace. If the Enti change your minds and you're willing to consider a cease-fire, send us a message. We're still new to this war—maybe we can help end it without more fighting."

They left, retreating with as much dignity as Ocellus could manage down the hall and out of sight. She had to stop Silverstream at the front desk, when she started to ask about seeing the Enti records. "Not now..." she hissed, and out they went.

"Why not?" Silverstream asked, as soon as they were out in the hall, with staring Zecrin guards. Their escort had waited outside for them during the entire conversation, it seemed. "Don't you want to know if they were telling the truth?"

"Yes," she admitted. "But we won't find it from anything they could show us here. They could show us whatever they wanted, and how would we know if it was true?"

She stalked over to the guards, and just now she couldn't even find it in her to be afraid of their sharp teeth. "We would like to get back to our quarters, please."

The guard grunted, then turned to march them away. Ocellus and Silverstream waited, practically boiling over with nervous energy as they crossed the pyramid. She could even look away from the prisoners, and forget the awful treatment these slaves received. Almost.

"Besides..." she whispered, as they neared the entrance to their little prison. "You said so yourself, you wouldn't keep living in prison, would you? Equestria wants to be free. We want to join the stars, not be stuck with just one. Humans will share the galaxy with us, not lock us away."

The guard made a strangled grunting sound, radiating amusement. "You think humans can give you anything, Equestrian? Some animals are clever—they even dress themselves. It is cute. But it is not a person. It is not significant just because it can learn your language. A machine can learn to speak as you do, and it is not a person either."

Ocellus didn't reply, just stalked into the open door to their little patch of jungle. She expected to find her friends just inside, maybe speaking eagerly with each other, or waiting right at the door.

Instead, they were gathered around a... campfire, built in the center of the strange room. It flickered with green and yellow, and in the spot beside it—was a Zecrin. They dressed as no individual they'd yet met, wearing a coat or robe in simple colors, and no bits of metal armor. A civilian maybe, or a member of a lower caste?

Ocellus slowed a little in the jungle, ears perked to listen.

"You should know that the Zecrin people are not as unified as the Sacred Watchers suggest. There are many who balk at their cruelty, or who disagree on their interpretation of scripture. Magic itself does not entirely uphold their interpretation. The universe defies simple classification."

Ocellus emerged from the trees a few seconds later, with Silverstream dragging along behind her. They must've looked as bad as they felt, because Yona waved at them with one hoof. "Your meeting went badly? This is not surprising."

Ocellus made her slow way over, where her friends opened up a spot in the circle. Silverstream only shook her head, leaving Ocellus to explain.

"They don't seem interested in ending the war." She wouldn't say anything about the offer, not with this stranger in attendance.

She turned to them, lowering her head respectfully. "Apologies for interrupting you. Please, continue."

The creature clicked their claws together, a gesture she was beginning to recognize. That meant acknowledgement, like a pony nod. Makes sense such a predatory species wouldn't want to lower their eyes and make themselves weak.

"You have a unique opportunity to affect change among the Zecrin. The Enti were only too eager to repeat our scriptures back to us. This insulated the Sacred Watchers from criticism, strengthened their rule. What we really need is someone willing to prove them wrong."

"And if we did..." Sandbar said, comprehension spreading across his face. "You think it might make the Zecrin join the Compact."

The creature clicked their claws again. "We suffer the Enti to do as they will not because we do not see the danger they might become—but because we do not recognize their actions as harming any living creature. If our people realized what was being done to this galaxy, they would be outraged.You only need to convince them."