The Viridian Pasture Restaurant,

Canterlot,

Central Equestria,

And Fort Nag,

Southern Equestria

“You look nervous, General Maniple. You are dining at the most exclusive restaurant in all of Equestria. Ponies who eat here aren’t supposed to look nervous,” the fourth Earl of Bitter Creek admonished in a low tone as he floated up the crystal flute and took a sip of the glittering champagne contained within. He couldn’t help but smile as the succulently sweet nectar flowed across his lips.

As little as five years ago, only Princesses Celestia and Luna themselves might have remembered what wine made from the crystal berries of the once lost Crystal Empire had tasted like. He himself, a fine connoisseur of wines and sparkling ciders the world over, from the sultry dry reds of the Zebra Confederation, to the sweet roses of Prance, had to acknowledge that none of them held a candle to this fruity crystal beverage. The mouthfeel was simply exquisite!

While the Crystal Empire might have returned, its vineyards and wineries were far from recovered, and nothing that they had recently produced had had anywhere near enough time to suitably age for distribution. As a result, the only bottles of crystal berry wine which existed―outside of Princess Celestia's private reserves, of course―were those which had been present in King Sombra's own―considerable―wine cellars when the Empire had vanished a thousand years ago.

Shortly after her coronation as its new sovereign, Princess Cadance had graciously "returned" the wine to the ponies of her empire, along with many of the other riches their tormentor had pillaged from his subjects. It was a first step in her efforts to heal the scars left on the populace by Sombra.

It had not taken long for the crystal ponies to find out that just about each and every one of them was in possession of what were effectively considered to be "priceless antiquities" by collectors in Equestria. As often as not, their simple knick-knacks and baubles were creations of long-dead artists of great modern renown; and their wines and liquors were salivated over by aficionados the world over. Many crystal ponies were now considerably quite well off financially, as a result of selling off their possessions for hundreds of time what they had been worth only "yesterday" from their point of view.

This was how the comparatively few bottles of the Empire's wine had found themselves in circulation in Equestria. It would be several decades before a steady supply became available so, until then, what existed was sold at a premium and really only accessible to Equestria’s most wealthy clientele―of which the earl happened to be one. Indeed, this single glass easily eclipsed a month’s worth of income for even a well off pony. And it was worth every bit, as far as Bitter Creek was concerned.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” the general mumbled, “It’s just that…” The earth pony stallion took a long sip from his own much modestly-priced Coltifornia red wine to steady his nerves before continuing, “the EIS came snooping around, asking a lot of questions about those mercenaries of yours. I gave them all the documents that you told me to, and that seemed to satisfy them, but…”

The earl began to laugh out loud, drawing a concerned look from his dining companion, in addition to a few dower glances from nearby tables as their own dining was disturbed. Bitter Creek ignored the looks, instead continuing to act as though his companion had said something uproariously amusing. “General, you have nothing to worry about! I was perfectly happy to help you with disposing of all that surplus equipment of yours,” he said in a tone that was easily loud enough to be heard by most of the diners on their side of the restaurant, eliciting a wince from the senior officer. “What are good friends for?”

Then, in a much more subdued tone, though keeping his broad smile in place for the sake of appearances for anypony who might still be looking their way, he said, “the EIS has closed their formal inquiry. They had no choice but to do so. The documentation is too inscrutable. However, I have learned that there is still an ongoing ‘informal’ investigation.”

“What?” The earth pony paled noticeably. He glanced around nervously and leaned in close. “I’ve heard nothing of this!”

“I did say it was an informal investigation, did I not?” The earl reiterated, not hiding his mild annoyance this time. He was reminded that a pony's position was not always indicative of their intellect. “That means that there isn’t anything to hear about. It’s just a hoofful of ponies poking around and hoping that they get lucky.”

“And if they do get lucky?”

“Calm yourself, general. I have already tasked somepony to deal with the matter,” the alabaster unicorn assured the nearly manic general officer. “They will learn nothing, and report less.”

Maniple, however, didn’t seem inclined to calm down all that much. His own mind was racing with thoughts of how wrong this all could go for him if his role in their conspiracy was exposed. “Why didn’t you mention anything about this to me before?”

“Plausible deniability, general. The less you know, the more convincing you’ll sound if you’re questioned about something,” Bitter Creek supplied matter-of-factly. “It’s highly unlikely, of course, but I’m not of a mind to take any great risks at this time. We’re very close to the point of no return.”

The earth pony stallion thought for a moment, nodding absently before cocking his head to the side. “Your Grace, if there was no record of this informal investigation, then how did you know about it?”

“You are far from the only pony I’ve involved in this matter, general,” the earl said. “I have several contacts, all positioned to tell me what is going on and what threats to the plan might appear. One of these contacts alerted me to this possible problem, and I’ve made arrangements to have it solved.

“So, as you can see, General Maniple,” the unicorn said with a thinly exasperated sigh, “there is nothing for either you or I to be concerned about.” He reveled in the cringe that spread across the earth pony’s face at the louder volume of Alabaster’s voice as he resumed speaking in a conversational tone. “Things are progressing along as we expected them to.

“Why, I only yesterday received the first official complaint from my envoy, bemoaning that Captain Combed Hair of yours, and her insurmountable obstinance,” the unicorn smiled pleasantly. He had logged the formal complaint and forwarded a copy through the official channels in the Cavalry. The general would doubtlessly receive his own official notification tomorrow or the next day, depending on how long the missive languished on the various desks it passed through between departments. Most ponies might have begrudged the excruciatingly slow-turning wheels of the existing bureaucracy―as Alabaster himself was oft to do―but in this case it worked much to their advantage. That ingrained inefficiency would be just another caveat on the investigative report that would clear him and his office of any blame in the aftermath of the coming...difficulties.

“Corsair,” the general corrected automatically before his features instantly brightened. “You did? Well, that was sooner than expected,” he admitted in a much more relaxed tone. “They can’t have been in Gallopoli for more than a couple of days by now.”

“Judging from the letter’s contents, I believe it was sent immediately upon their arrival in Istanbull. Apparently my envoy and your captain were butting heads even during the train ride up there.” He took another delectable sip of his wine and sighed. “I commend you, general. Captain Corsair was an inspired choice, it seems.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I had hoped so. I suspect the doctored files you provided are helping things along too.”

“As well they should,” the earl nodded in agreement. “Nothing like contradicting orders to put ponies at odds, is there? The more complaints my ministry receives, the better this will look for the two of us in the course of time. However, there is something else you will need to do for me, and it should be done sooner rather than later.”

“Your Grace?”

“There will come a time when my office will be compelled to make a formal request that you relieve this Corsair of her post, in light of all of the complaints that my envoy is sending.” The earth pony nodded his understanding thus far. “It would be tragically inconvenient if any suitable replacements happened to be on assignment elsewhere. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, yes, Your Grace, it certainly would be. If we’re fortunate, both the Royal Equestrian Cavalry and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs won’t have any pressing need for the Frontier Corps in the next few weeks…”

The unicorn idly rubbed his chin. “You know, general, now that I think on it, the hippogriff kingdom hasn’t been the recipient of a goodwill tour in quite some time...the minotaurs either. Why, I am only now realizing just how far my ministry has lagged in its duty to maintain equitable relations with our neighbors under my predecessors.

“I should draft a proposal for additional outreach programs and send it to Princess Twilight Sparkle. I’m certain that the Princess of Friendship can come up with all manner of uses for your Frontier Corps!” The earl’s smile was broad and warm, but the cool glint in his eyes belied the feigned mirth in his words. Indeed, outwardly, there was nothing that anypony could have found to fault with his expressed notions. Safeguarding outlying Equestrian settlements and building cordial relations with neighboring nations were the core tenets of the Frontier Corps, and they had been for many centuries.

However, until quite recently, Equestria had observed a strict isolationist policy, focused more on internal development than fostering foreign relations with any but their most proximal neighbors. Much of that had changed in the last few years though, with the ascension of Equestria’s fourth alicorn princess, and her focus on promoting friendship both within, and more recently beyond Equestria’s borders. As of yet, the young alicorn had not made formal requests of the Frontier Corps, but the Earl of Bitter Creek wondered if that was because she might not be aware of their alternate purpose.

By all accounts, Princess Twilight Sparkle was very driven and determined to execute her duties as the patron of Friendship, and fostering cordial relations with every other known race on the planet was an outspoken goal of hers. If it were made mention to her that there was an entire corps of the military set aside for just such a purpose…

Why, General Maniple might very quickly find himself quite overwhelmed with requests for the services of his most able commanders. Leaving none available to relieve the mare causing a stir in Saddle Arabia.

“I’m sure she could at that, Your Grace,” the general agreed, appearing to be significantly more cheerful than he had been only a few minutes ago as he began to see the wider plan coming together. It seemed that he had not given the earl nearly enough credit. The unicorn noble had obviously put a lot more thought into this plan than he’d initially assumed. “If you would like, I can send your ministry a list of the Frontier Corps’ units for you to forward to the Princess. In the interests of ensuring she uses my forces as efficiently as possible, of course.”

“Of course, general, that would be of immeasurable help,” the earl smiled. His horn glowed bright as he lifted his half-full glass in the air, toasting the officer. “To Friendship!”

Captain Hawkwood didn’t frequent the pony lands. Admittedly, that didn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings of personal animosity towards the tiny equine residents. It was merely a consequence of his vocation, and where that work tended to take him. As a rule, the largely pacifist ponies of Equestria had little use for professional mercenaries. That wasn’t always the case, of course, but had certainly been the way of things recently.

While the ponies seemed loath to flex anything approaching martial might these days, neither were their neighbors much interested in seeking to stir anything up with Equestria either. Though contemporary ponies weren't anywhere near as militant-minded as griffons or minotaurs, there was no denying that Equestria had long solidified a reputation with the other nations as a place that was not to be trifled with. They had a long history of sundering demi-gods, powerful tyrants, and hordes of fearsome monsters with seemingly little trouble. Equestria might not be one to play the role of the aggressor, but no being could claim with a straight face that the ponies didn’t know how to hold their own if pressed to fight.

Which only served to make the request for the services of his company all the more intriguing. Equestria was a nation that had never started a war, nor typically needed any assistance finishing one that had was being waged against them. What use could a nation like that have for a band of veteran mercenaries like his Ivory Company?

Satisfying that little bit of curiosity had been the primary impetus behind his acceptance of the contract. Normally, he would never have entertained the notion of undertaking such a vague assignment. This profession was hazardous enough without intentionally depriving oneself essential information about the nature of the contract, such as knowing exactly who their adversary was even going to be. However, Hawkwood felt confident enough that, of all the races in the world, the ponies of Equestria were the least likely to try and start anything too serious with a particularly potent enemy.

And, if it turned out that it looked like the Ivory Company was going to be asked to tug on the manticore's tail...well, then he could simply renege on the contract and return to Roam. He hardly cared about maintaining his personal reputation with ponies. Especially since he very much doubted this Earl Bitter Creek was going to make a big public stink about his defaulting on a contract that apparently is supposed to be kept a secret or something anyway.

His second officer, Gertrude, didn’t seem to share his optimistic attitude though. “I still don’t like this, sir.”

The hippogriff smirked at his subordinate as they glided through the air, the rest of his company following in their wake. Hippogriffs, griffons, and even a few pegasi, flew in neat, orderly formations, the banners of their organization fluttering with impunity. Their passage thus far had garnered quite a few gawks from the local ponies that they passed, as well as an interdiction by an Equestrian patrol along the way. However, the requisition that the Earl’s envoy had bestowed upon them contained a marque of passage as well.

Hawkwood wondered if word of their not-so-subtle trip through Equestria would reach their employer, and what his reaction would be to their ostentatiousness. This was, of course, supposed to be a ‘secret’ mission, was it not? Perhaps it was, or it wasn't. How was the hippogriff commander to know when he was provided with so little information?

“Really? Because I’m actually having a pretty good time,” and he wasn’t being sarcastic either. “I feel like I’m on parade!” And, indeed, his company very well could have been returning to a celebratory Triumph, the way they were presenting themselves on this trip.

“We still don’t even know what we’re getting into,” the dour hen grumbled.

“If I had to guess, we’re about to become a part of some petty noble’s feud,” Hawkwood reasoned. “Such a dispute between ponies will be especially simple. Relax, Gerty. Equestria, of all places, is unlikely to get into anything too troublesome.”

“I suppose,” the griffon admitted. She canted her head suddenly, and pointed. “There, sir! I see the fort we’re supposed to go to.”

Hawkwood turned to follow his second’s gaze, and his own keen eyes found the indicated fortress, as well as the collection of crates that had been gathered in its courtyard. Doubtless, that was the equipment that they were supposed to collect for their assignment. He still wasn’t positive what need they could have for it, but there had been assurances that everything would be explained to them here. He certainly hoped that was the case, otherwise he was resolved to have his company turn around right here and now and head back to the zebra lands, where the legates there were much more forthright with the work that they hired his mercenaries for.

“And I suspect that rather put out looking fellow is our contact,” the hippogriff chuckled, noting the stallion standing near the supply crates that was scowling deep enough to be clearly seen from the air. “Let’s go and speak with him. Have the rest of the company stage outside the fort’s walls.” The griffon hen nodded and relayed his instructions to the squadron leaders before returning to his side and following him down to the meeting with the pegasus stallion waiting to greet them.

The pony was very nearly sputtering when he finally spoke in what could only loosely be described as a ‘greeting’. “Have you lost your chicken-feathered minds!” The stallion seethed. “What are you thinking, making a spectacle of yourselves like this?!”

“Oh, were we supposed to be subtle about all of this?” Hawkwood said, feigning surprise at the vitriol reaction. Though the act was only barely veiled, and an amused smile was tugging viscously at the corners of his mouth as he watched the pony's face turn a most amusing shade of purple that had nothing to do with the coloration of his coat. “I’m so sorry. Our instructions were rather vague. About everything.”

The pegasus, who Hawkwood recognized was wearing the golden sun of a colonel on his collar, bit back what was doubtlessly a string of grossly impolite epithets. The message had been received, he surmised. The Earl could seethe about this all he wanted to later. “I’ll pass along your...critique. In the meantime, I need you to sign for these supplies,” the stallion then produced a clipboard and a stylus.

The hippogriff quirked an eyebrow. “Isn’t a paper trail sort of anathema to covert missions?” He took the offered board and quickly skimmed over the forms. They turned out to be a rather mundane Bill of Sale. Curiouser and curiouser...

“What ‘covert mission’?” the pegasus responded severely. “The Equestrian military is just selling your mercenary company surplus equipment. Transactions like this happen all the time,” the colonel continued in a matter-of-factly tone. “The Cavalry gets supplied with new equipment, and turns around and sells its old surplus at a bargain price to free up space and help offset the costs.

“There is absolutely nothing at all 'secret' or 'unusual' about transactions like this one.” Then the severity returned. “Mercenaries flying around in our airspace like a conquering army, on the other hoof…”

Hawkwood ignored the barb and instead peered more closely at the paperwork he was holding in his talons. Everything did indeed seem to be completely above board and legal. There was a complete inventory of all the supplies that he was being given, which included everything from barding, to spears, to hoofblades, to bows...he was even sure that, if he were to open those crates and look inside, all their contents would match up perfectly with the invoices he was holding. There was not a single thing that was suspect about any of this.

Except for maybe the fact that the Bill of Sale that he was being asked to sign indicated that everything had already been paid for by a third party. The title of the purchasing agent was listed as a: ‘Sandalwood and Sons Holdings, LLC’. The hippogriff had never heard of any such organization, nor did he know of any reason that they should be buying his mercenary band second-talon equipment from ponies. He doubted that he was going to get any of those questions answered by the pegasus colonel though.

He made his mark on the last of the requisition forms and returned the clipboard to the pegasus stallion. The colonel glanced over the paperwork to ensure that everything was in order as far as he was concerned. Seemingly satisfied, the pony then fished out a wax-sealed envelope and passed it to the hippogriff, “Now get your crap out of my courtyard within the hour. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” Hawkwood replied in a bored tone as he took the missive. A flick of his talons sent Gertrude to go and fetch a detail to retrieve their newly acquired hardware while he set about reviewing what he took to be the more detailed parameters of the mission that he’d been promised. Unlike everything else he’d been passed during this meeting, there wasn’t anything even remotely official looking about the envelope he was holding. The wax hadn't been stamped with any seal or signet, and the stationary looked like it could have been bought at any corner store in the nation which sold such things.

On the bright side, this left very little up for interpretation. At the least, the hippogriff tiercel could appreciate having such succinct objectives to accomplish. Though, even he had to admit that he would never have been able to guess at the contents of the message.

“Naughty little deals, indeed,” he mumbled under his breath as several dozen members of his mercenary company were flitting in to collect the crates. His griffon aide-de-camp landed by his side, casting him an inquiring look. He passed her the missive, noting her own stunned expression as her widened eyes scanned over it a second time to make certain she hadn't misunderstood anything. “It’s been a while since we’ve gotten this kind of work,” he noted.

Once she’d recovered from the initial shock of the letter’s contents, the griffon hen scowled and returned the letter. “The Arabians aren’t going to like us much after this, sir.” Not that the lanky desert-dwelling equines had had much use for the Ivory Company up to this point, Hawkwood noted to himself.

He looked on as the last of the Equestrian surplus was hauled away. “I don’t think it’ll be us that gets saddled with the blame for this one,” he chuckled before taking flight himself. Below, the few ponies who had not been too occupied with their work to watch the curious collection of mercenary fliers looked on as they departed.

One such pony, a young pegasus mare dressed in the uniform of a private, and who was a very recent transfer to the fort, raised up her granite hued hoof and lightly pressed it up against a black choker around her neck that, truth be told, did not fall within official cavalry uniform wear and appearance guidelines. However, it was normally quite effectively obscured by her armor’s gorget. “Transaction complete. Targets departing west.” The mare tucked the choker back down behind her armor and resumed polishing her sergeant’s helmet, which was relayed to her as being the typical duty of new members in the section.

Private Fairbanks, who was most certainly not Field Operative Vigenere of the Equestrian Intelligence Service―despite sharing a stunningly uncanny resemblance to such a mare as to fool even her own mother―knew perfectly well that such delegations of work were not, in fact, technically permissible. However, it was not in her interests to draw attention to herself by raising a stink with her chain of command, so she simply continued to clean the helm and let her comrades take over the task of keeping an eye on the group of fliers that she wasn’t supposed to know were mercenaries from the Ivory Company under contract to Earl Bitter Creek.

Meanwhile, another mare―who it could be argued bore a striking resemblance to a pegasus in Roam named Saccharine, but obviously wasn't that mare―calmly acknowledged the magically transmitted message even as her own amber eyes peered out from the canopy at the flock of creatures flying away from Fort Nag. She felt a low growl building deep in her throat as she watched them leaving. Very little of that budding ire was directed at the mercenaries though.

Earl Bitter Creek had proven himself to be a particularly slippery quarry. If Nightjar hadn’t known any better, she’d have suspected that the noblepony had once been involved in the practicing of some spycraft himself. Of course, he had not. No, the Foreign Affairs Minister had gained all of his skills at subterfuge and misdirection through his involvement in a much shadier profession than the EIS: politics.

Nightjar had been certain that there was something underhoofed going on between Captain Hawkwood and the earl. A member of the Equestrian nobility making deals with mercenaries in the back rooms of shady zebra taverns? How could that not be a hint that something fowl was in the making? Sure, Nightjar hadn’t found anything specifically incriminating, but there had been enough smoke to warrant a cursory investigation by the Equestrian Intelligence Service to see if there was any actual fire, as was one of their mandates.

Much to Nightjar’s surprise, that investigation had ended almost before it had even begun, and not for the sort of reasons that she might have suspected. The batpony operative had been ready to fight fang and hoof against political stonewalling and cronyism, seeing as how she was going after a government official of noble birth, but none of that had happened. Instead, the reason that the investigation had ended within hours of being opened was that the EIS’s first tentative official inquiries had been answered with an inundation of supporting documentation from both the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Calvary! To include copies of all the official correspondence between the commanding general of the Frontier Corps and the Foreign Affairs Ministry asking for help in finding suitable buyers for the realm’s surplus military equipment.

In response to what had become almost annual occurrences, wherein the realm was brought to the precipice of destruction by powerful beings and their armies, Equestria’s military was undergoing a complete rearmament with an entirely new generation of barding and weaponry so that they could better meet the realm’s escalating security needs. Tens of thousands of tons of equipment and supplies were being pushed out to cavalry units, forcing those units to try and find somewhere to store all of their old obsolete gear. Warehouse space was at a premium, and the prices for every square yard of floor space were starting to put a real dent in the military’s finances. Every branch of the Cavalry was desperate to find buyers on which to offload that surplus to get their budgets under control.

Even going so far as to reach out to foreign mercenary bands, it would seem. So it was that the explanation for the communication with the Ivory Company that the EIS had been given, was that the Foreign Affairs Ministry was reaching out to them on behalf of the Cavalry to offload military surplus. A completely innocent―and an apparently not uncommon―explanation.

With Nightjar's raised concerns ameliorated by the apparently entirely legitimate exchange of correspondence between the earl and foreign mercenaries, there had not been any way for the EIS to justify keeping the investigation open in an official capacity. So it had been terminated before Nightjar even reached Canterlot. Of course, the mare had immediately reported what she had heard the mercenary captain and the Earl’s aide saying to one another, and whatever the official record might say, there had been nothing ‘legitimate-sounding’ about that conversation to her mind.

However, the word of even one of the EIS’s senior operatives was not enough to support sustaining an official inquiry into an Equestrian noble of such high rank and standing in the face of overwhelming physical evidence which appeared to legitimize his actions. It wasn’t even that her superiors didn’t believe her. They were perfectly willing to entertain the notion that more was going on than met the eye―that was usually how things went with nobles, after all. It was simply a matter of their own hooves being tied by the bounds of what the laws would allow even the EIS to do. While they might operate beneath a royal writ from Princess Luna Herself which gave her spy network a lot of leeway in most matters of national security, that freedom came with a heavy weight of responsibility.

If it ever appeared that the operatives who answered personally to the Night Princess were harassing the citizens, and especially the nobility, of Equestria without just cause―such as when having been presented with evidence clearing the target of their investigation of any wrongdoing―the backlash against their royal patron could be fierce. Princess Luna was still only relatively recently returned to Equestria, and the stigma of her ancient transgression was never far from the minds of the citizenry. Slowly, Her Royal Highness was beginning to rebuild the trust of her subjects, but there was no denying that she had nowhere near the backlog of goodwill in the public or the Peerage that her solar sister did.

If one of the realm’s more powerful nobles, such as Earl Bitter Creek, was to file a formal grievance and create a large public spectacle of it all, the damage to Princess Luna’s image would be significant. Princess Celestia herself might even be compelled to intervene if the Peerage put enough pressure on her. They might even insist that operation of the EIS be transferred to The Princess of the Sun―the more ‘trustworthy’ sister―or maybe even disbanded altogether, if they could stoke enough public outrageh.

The EIS's leadership could not―would not―allow the honor of Her Royal Highness Princess Luna to be tarnished in such a way. They would not take the risk. So Nightjar’s allegations of impropriety against Earl Bitter Creek were very neatly and quietly suppressed. Until such time as additional―tangible―evidence presented itself that could not be dismissed by the existing interdepartmental correspondence they'd already been given.

That being said, the Ivory Company itself was another matter entirely. They were neither Equestrian citizens, nor even technically affiliated with the Princesses or any members of the nobility. While they did possess letters of passage for the purposes of purchasing the surplus equipment that had been reserved for them, that did not place them above any and all suspicion of possible ulterior motives. There was even historical precedent for placing such groups under a full military escort while they were within Equestria's borders. That had not been done this time, though the EIS couldn’t find a comprehensive reason why that hadn’t been done. All indications were that such a request for troop assignments had simply never been filed. Such an escort wasn’t required, per se, but traditionally it had always been done anyway.

While the Equestrian Intelligence Service couldn’t legally give the Cavalry orders, it was within their own purview to monitor possible threats to Equestria, be they from outside the nation’s borders, or from within them. If they found a credible potential threat, then a formal request could be made asking for assistance from the Cavalry. So a surveillance detail had been assembled and assigned to watch over the mercenaries ‘until further notice’, with Nightjar in charge of that operation.

The batpony mare recognized the order for what it really was: a way to continue her investigation of the earl without formally 'investigating' him. Any typical monitoring of a group like the Ivory Company would have stopped the moment they left Equestria’s borders. However, the open-endedness of the wording on the instructions that she had been given in this particular instance would allow her to track the mercenaries for as long as she wanted. Or at least until the EIS' bean-counters stopped covering her expense reports.

She’d be able to follow the mercenaries to wherever they were going and find out exactly what it was that the Foreign Affairs Minister had contracted them to do. That being said, it wouldn’t be enough to simply catch the Ivory Company doing something disagreeable. They were a free company. They occasionally did disagreeable things while under contract with disreputable clients. What she would need was find evidence that linked their actions with Earl Bitter Creek specifically. Otherwise there was nothing more the EIS could do on the matter.

Nightjar touched the choker once more. “All pursuit team members: get your spacing and keep your distance. We just need to be able to track them. Anypony who gets close enough to be spotted by the targets will be personally disemboweled by me, is that clear?” A chorus of acknowledgements answered her. The batpony Senior Operative then sat back on the limb of the tree she was perched on and watched the flying mercenary formation shrink into the distance. Once they were little more than pinpricks, she’d finally take flight and follow them as well.

“That sounds a bit harsh,” a deep voice said a couple scant inches from her ear.

The words had not come over the magical collar that she and her team wore and, while she recognized the voice, the speaker had not been a member of her team. It was a testament to Nightjar's self-control that she hadn’t fallen out of the tree in her surprise, which had no doubt been the intended result of the sudden appearance of the batpony stallion behind her. Nightjar hadn’t been able to keep herself from reacting entirely though, and had jerked quite noticeably. The glare she flashed the intruder didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. He merely grinned back at her.

“Tell me,” he went on, still smiling smugly to himself at having managed to catch her by surprise, “will the pony you disembowel be tied down first? Because I think I might want to take you up on that. But only if we get to trade places next time…”

“Nocturn!” The mare snapped. “Luna help me, I will not warn you again!” Then her gaze narrowed even further as a thought occurred to her. “What are you even doing here?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not checking up on you,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hoof. “I’m here to help, in fact!” He reached into his saddlebag and took out a folded piece of paper, holding it out to Nightjar. The mare snatched it away, maintaining her displeased scowl. “What, no ‘thank you’?” The mare mumbled something under her breath that sounded like it had been laced with a few disparaging epithets, eliciting another chuckle from the batpony stallion.

The mare’s slitted pupils scanned the paper, and then she looked up at the stallion. “Where did you get this?”

“Oh, come now! You know as well as I do that an agent never gives up their sources.” He tapped his chin. “Though, I suppose I could be persuaded this time...” He leaned his muzzle down close to Nightjar’s. “...but it’ll cost you a kiss.”

“Pass,” was the mare’s deadpan response as she looked back at the paper and reread its contents. If the information written here was accurate…

Nightjar passed the paper back to the batpony stallion. “Set up the meeting.”

“That was rather quick,” Nocturn chuckled as he took the message and returned it to his saddlebags.

“If they know something, I’m not going to pass up the chance to find out what it is,” the mare responded. “Bitter Creek’s obviously thought this scheme of his through and taken a lot of steps to cover his tracks. A mole on the inside who can get us the evidence we need is honestly our only hope at this point.”

“Alright,” the stallion shrugged, “I’ll have our contacts set up a meeting for you.” That pervasive teasing smile of his returned. “Should I make it somewhere cozy and romantic? You might need to honeypot him.” He feigned thinking for a moment. “Or her. I honestly don’t know who they are. Oh! Hey, have you ever seduced a mare before?”

Nightjar’s nostrils flared briefly before she feigned reciting through tightly clenched teeth, “Dear, Princess Luna. I regret to inform you that I was forced to geld one of our operatives and choke him to death with his own dick…”

“Kidding! Kidding!” The stallion said in a tone that could have almost passed for apologetic, though his grin didn't help it to seem particularly sincere. He did flutter a good bit further away from her on the tree limb though, Nightjar noticed. Far enough away that he’d have a fair chance of evading her if she lunged for his throat. “Well...sort of kidding,” he amended, “but I can just comb the reports of your previous assignments for that answer.” She wanted little more than to wipe that insidious smile of his from his muzzle. “With you off to Luna-knows-where, I’ll need something to think about while I’m in bed tonight, after all―”

This time, the batpony mare did lunge for him. Had he not recently extended the distance between them, she was certain that she’d have gotten him too. As it was, the stallion managed to just barely slip out of her reach, though it was with a rather undignified ‘eep!’ of surprise. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as actually wringing his neck would have been, but it sated her rage enough to let her get a grip on her emotions once more. She fixed her hate-filled eyes on the dissipating mist that was all that remained of the stallion’s reflexive shadow-jump.

He wouldn’t have been able to manage to get very far in the day time, she knew, but she didn’t have time to go looking for him. The Ivory Company were mere dots along the skyline now. It was time for her to get back to her mission. She raised her voice and called out, “if you contact me at any point for a reason other than setting up that meeting, Nocturn, Our Princess will be given a formal complaint about your behavior! Knowing you, I suspect that mine will only be the next in a long and wearying line that she’s received over the years; but I promise you that the details it will contain will be more than enough to get you drummed out of not just the EIS, but Equestria itself!

“Do I make myself clear?”

There was no answer, but she hadn’t really expected one. Nightjar took a cleansing breath to quell the remainder of her ire and then took flight in pursuit of the mercenaries.

From deep in the shadows of the underbrush, the batpony stallion watched her leave. His usual smile was gone now. Her attack had caught him off guard, he was forced to concede that much to himself at least. He’d misjudged how far he’d pushed the mare with his verbal jabs. That was what annoyed him the most, honestly; that he’d failed to read her well enough.

He’d been trying to provoke such an attack for a while now. It would have given him the excuse he needed to give that bitch the thorough beating she deserved and finally put her in her place. Yet, when the moment finally arrived, he’d been unprepared for it. The thought caused his teeth to grind together hard enough that there was real danger that he might chip a fang.

He hated that mare. He loathed her to her very core. Pegasi, unicorns, earth ponies, zebras, even hippogriffs...but she would not bed him? His leathery wings quivered as he thought about the insult she’d leveled against him by taking up with that Hawkwood scoundrel. All just to spite him, naturally.

One day soon, though, he’d have his chance to show her how wrong she'd been to rebuke him. When that day came, he’d demonstrate how worthy he was of not merely her respect, but her obedience! He was her superior, both within the EIS, and outside of it, and he would have her behave as such.

She would be cowed before him…

...or she would die.

Author's Note

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