Mass Effect: Shades of Twilight

by Loyal2Luna

Chapters

Prologue: Small Victories
Arc 1 - Part 1: New Ponyville
Arc 1 - Part 2: Clearing a Path
Arc 1 - Part 3: Sowing Seeds
Arc 1 - Conclusion: A Step in the Right Direction
Arc 2 - Part 1: A Day Like Any Other
Arc 2 - Part 2: When it Rains...
Arc 2 - Part 3: ...The Sky Falls
Arc 2 - Part 4: Chasing Shadows
Arc 2 - Conclusion: Daybreak
-Bonus- : In the Lair of the Shadow Broker

Prologue: Small Victories

FIMfiction presents:
An L2L Production

Mass Effect:
Shades of Twilight

——————

Small Victories

The Citadel
Presidium VIP Apartment

“I’m not saying the codex is fraudulent or anything like that,” stated a purple unicorn with a striped violet mane as the door opened, and she took a few steps inside, flanked by the green-eyed mechanical equine she kept as her personal assistant.

She was grateful that the Council session had gone as well as it had, but knew that their minor victory was overshadowed by the enormity of the challenges that her kind now faced. One of these issues in particular had been nagging at the back of her mind for the better part of the day, which she shared with her assistant.

“I mean, since everypony’s knowledge of the galaxy only comes second-hoof from Equestria’s databanks, most of the entries have really proven useful for filling in the gaps. But with all that’s happening, we can’t exactly expect the Institute not to censor anything we tell them. On that note, I was wondering if maybe you could maintain a personal record of what’s going on. Something so that after all this is over, we can all have an impartial view of the events as they actually happened…”

The cybernetic changeling drone’s expression remained blank as it looked to his latest “owner,” giving no indication of what was transpiring in his digital brain.

*New task accepted*
*Considering options*

...

*Optimal action formulated*
*Executing*

Extranet connection established

Accessing Institute of Species Research mainframe

Downloading Galactic Codex Library

Download complete

*Analyzing database hierarchy and entry syntax*
*Parsing personal database into accepted Galactic Codex format*
*Syncing to redundant memory sectors to allow for simultaneous update of personal database to all saved locations*

“…Do you think that you could do that, Forty-Two?” the unicorn finished, showing her assistant a hopeful smile.

The synthetic Changeling Class mech facing the Madam President of the newly-recognized “Equestrian Herd” blinked, the green light emanating from his crystalline eyes winking out briefly to simulate a wholly organic reaction.

*Formulating Primary Species Entries*
*Equestrians: updated*

*Formulating Secondary Species Entries*
*Biology: updated*
*Subspecies: updated*
*Culture: updated*
*Government: updated*

*Formulating Historical Entries*
*Epona Systems Corporation: updated*
*The Star Daemon War: updated*
*Equestria: updated*
*The Isolation of Equestria: updated*
*The Exodus of Equestria: updated*
*Return to the Galaxy: updated*

*Formulating Biographical Entries*
*Twilight Sparkle: updated*

*Uploading information to relevant sectors*

*Task complete*

Literally in the blink of an eye, the operation was done. The mech’s optics turned back on after the momentary power diversion and the image of the lavender hued unicorn stood before him, her expression curious as she awaited a response.

“Oh…” the drone known as Forty-Two of Fifty shrugged his shoulders, the servos and gears eliciting a slight whirring as they did so. “I’m sure I can throw something together, Twi.”

“I know you can get it done. Take all the time you need.” Twilight Sparkle nodded, letting out a sigh as she considered the events of that day. She trotted slowly over to the couch of the small Presidium apartment she had been allowed to use for the duration of her business with the Council. “I still can’t believe that Councilor Sparatus voted against us.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons, Twilight.”

“Like what? Why would he possibly vote against the rest of the Council in granting our people endangered status?” The Madam President planted herself in the seat, a cross look on her face. “I’ll tell you why: He thinks that because we honestly believe in the Reaper threat, we’re either dangerous, or crazy. Or both.”

Twilight let out a dejected sigh. “Granted, the rest of the Council except for Anderson thinks the same thing, but Sparatus is only doing this out of spite.”

Accessing Citadel Department of Transportation records

Search parameters: Councilor Gladior Sparatus - registered vehicles

...

Search complete: 1 result

“Nassaria 9000 XL Personal Luxury Shuttle, Registration Numeral: 102938, Color: Gold. Registered under Councilor Gladior Sparatus. Estimated value: eight hundred thousand credits.”

“It’s probably because of the Commander...” the unicorn continued while Forty-Two listened patiently. “The Council doesn’t exactly approve of Shepard right now, or his ideas. And given how readily we support him, it’s not surprising that Sparatus would choose to get at him by going through us.”

“Twilight... are you familiar with the human concept of ‘karma’?” the mech interrupted her, causing the horned equine to lean up from her resting position and give the mech a curious, suspicious look.

“Yes... Why?”

Accessing Citadel Security Criminal Database

Access code required

*Initiating system bypass*
*Neutralizing safeguards*

...

*Safeguards neutralized*
*Tracing system root path*
*Decrypting information*

...

Welcome back, Captain Bailey

Full access granted

Inputting new entry in category: Vehicular Violations

“Registration Number 102938, Recorded Violations:
1638 unpaid parking tickets
758 instances of parking in VIP areas
*Vehicle scheduled for immediate confiscation and auction*"

Logging out of Citadel Security Criminal Database

The mech’s luminescent eyes shifted slightly, giving off the appearance of acute amusement as he terminated his connection to the extranet.

“Just curious.”

——————

Log Entry: 42 of 50 - Day 5 A.E (After Equestria)

Assets Acquired:

+300: The Equestrian Herd - Two hundred and ninety-seven Equestrians comprise the Herd. Obviously a tight-knit species due to their low population, the Herd is made up of all three subspecies released from the Equestria Facility and encompasses all Equestrians alive today.

Update - Due to the actions of Commander Shepard before and during the Exodus of Equestria, the Equestrian Herd suffered only a single casualty during the traumatic transition before its arrival on the Citadel; this being the unavoidable loss of Green (Granny) Smith to advanced age.

+25: Endangered Status - With their population dangerously low, yet capable of self-substantiation, the Citadel Council has granted the Herd Endangered Status, which offers extra legal protection from overt physical threats such as assault with malicious intent, murder, kidnapping, and other crimes of a heinous nature. Under Citadel Conventions, these crimes are immediately upgraded to capital offenses.

Codex Updates: *Primary & Secondary Equestrian Codex Established*

Author's Note

Author’s Foreword

And so begins the tale of Twilight Sparkle and the Equestrians as they enter the universe of Mass Effect.

This story is a direct sequel to Mass Effect 2: The Equestrian Equation, requested by popular demand by you, the fans.

As before, the readers shall direct the course of the story, although there will be a few differences between Shades of Twilight and Equestrian Equation which will be as follows.

The Setting

Shades of Twilight takes place during the interim between Mass Effect 2 and 3, chronicling the trials and tribulations of Twilight Sparkle and the Equestrian Herd as they try to adapt to life in the greater galaxy. The majority of this story will take place on the Citadel, and the scenes will jump from time to time as we expedite the passing of weeks or months to focus on the most important points of the tale.

The Rules

Mass Effect: Shades of Twilight is an interactive story in which readers will designate the path the Equestrian Race by majority vote. In order to try and maintain a steady post rate, the voting period will be reduced to three days from the day of publishing (as opposed to a week as it was with Equestrian Equation). At which time I will tally the votes and announce the winner in the comments.

I also appreciate a certain amount of commentary along with the vote choice, as I tend to thrive on the feedback of readers and what they think of the story. Don’t think your opinion doesn’t matter, as it’s possible that, with enough support, additional options could open up, and the consequences of certain choices might be altered.

If you are not sure if you have made it in time for the voting, PLEASE check the chapter comments for a finalizing vote tally. Until I post the tally, you may consider your vote valid. After it is posted, voting is officially over.

Choices, Assets, and the Codex

Throughout the story, Twilight, as the undisputed leader of the Equestrians, will be confronted by two types of story altering options which you, the readers, shall decide on: Choices and Directive Decisions

Choices are the immediate decisions that will decide the course of the story and be made at the end of each chapter, having an instant impact on events that can affect everything from how the Equestrians are perceived by other species, to whether some ponies live or die.

Directive Decisions shall be peppered throughout the stories and logged by Forty-Two as requiring Twilight’s approval, decision, or dismissal. From mediating disagreements between herd members and aliens to influencing what direction certain groups shall take within the Herd. These decisions do not have an immediate effect, however, over time the results will become apparent both in the story and in the assets available to the Herd as these decisions bear fruit.

It is important to understand that unlike Shepard, Twilight’s Choices and Directive Decisions are not bound by the moral restraints of “Paragon” and “Renegade.” That is to say: Just because a choice seems morally more upstanding does not automatically make it the best choice. And by the same token, a harsh or more confrontational approach does not always lead to poor results. As a leader to her people, Twilight must be able to be both kind and firm when required.

Both Choices and Directive Decisions will be logged in the Author’s Notes of each chapter for clarity and review.

Assets will function much as they do in Mass Effect 3, keeping track of the victories, failures, and status of the Equestrian Species as they attempt to consolidate themselves. As in life, not all outcomes can be easily predicted and good intentions will not always lead to benefits for the Herd.

Assets will be tracked at the bottom of the Codex Blog, which is described below and shall have an impact in both Shades of Twilight and Mass Effect 3: Harmony for All, the planned follow-up to this story.

Forty-Two of Fifty, The Madam President’s personal assistant mech, has established the Equestrian Codex for members of the Herd to access at their leisure. This shall be an evolving project maintained by Forty-Two throughout the story with specific updates grouped by the chapter they appear in order to avoid unintentional spoilers.

New readers are asked to please read up to the relevant chapter before delving into that section of the Codex, and reading further entries may result in spoilers, so be warned before going in too far.

As a parting message I simply ask:

Please comment early and often.
If you favorite, PLEASE click the “Like” button as well. There’s no reason not to, it’s literally right next to the thing.

Enjoy.

Arc 1 - Part 1: New Ponyville

New Ponyville

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 6 A.E

Present location: civilian mass transport craft

Status: passive observation

Equestrian Herd currently en-route to unknown destination at request of Citadel Council

Twilight Sparkle sat looking out the window as she lay across two seats directly behind the cockpit of the large civilian transport that had been provided. Her discomfort was evident, and she shifted her haunches around, trying to find a suitable position as the divot that divided the seats was obviously designed for bipedal creatures.

She was anxious, that much was certain. The sudden rush of activity that had begun a few hours prior had her on edge. She had not expected action to be taken so quickly, or in such an urgent manner, when a salarian captain from Citadel Security had arrived at her door, informing her that her people were to be “transferred” to their new residence immediately. She had asked what had happened of course, attempting to pry information from the bipedal amphibian, but it did no good, as she learned he was simply following instructions and had been given no specific details.

Twilight had assured her friends, who in turn assured the others, that there was nothing to be concerned about; that the Council was just eager to see them off.

The truth was, she didn’t like being kept in the dark like this at all. It had been only ten hours since her last session with them ended. The rush and urgency of the Council’s action had her worried.

Everything was happening so fast.

She spared a glance over her shoulder towards the black mech standing in the aisle, silently keeping watch as she tried to relax after the hectic job of getting the Herd aboard the transport and making sure everypony was accounted for.

The Equestrian Herd... Two hundred and ninety-seven mares and stallions, adults and children, along with forty-eight black metal mechs.

It was hard to believe that this paltry number of beings was what constituted the entirety of her species. And they barely took up half of the space inside the civilian transport, which she had learned had been designed to carry over five hundred individuals.

There were so few of them… What kind of a future could they possibly build for themselves?

No... Can’t think like that.

The shock of all they had gone through had worn off at least; small comfort to the lavender unicorn as as she took note of the general calm among the ponies riding the transport with her. Some were looking out the windows in wonder, glad to be free of the refugee camp where they had been held over the past few days, while others spoke amongst themselves, wondering what it was that awaited them at their destination. Clearly they were unaware of the fact that something as simple as a malfunction in the transport’s eezo drive could easily bring an end to--

Stop it, Twilight. Stop thinking about that.

Twilight swallowed, trying her hardest to smother the almost constant insecurity she felt on behalf of the ponies she swore to protect. She forced herself to concentrate on the scenery that was serenely floating past outside the transport window, and a relaxed sense of familiarity came over her as she was reminded of her many trips on Equestria’s railways.

However, the comparison was tenuous at best, as the scene she beheld was a far cry from the rolling green hills and tall, spindly mountains of the computer simulation she once called home.

The Citadel was truly a marvel of engineering, of that, there was no doubt. It was almost thirteen kilometers across and roughly cylindrical in shape, with five enormous arms, each one containing a cityscape larger than Manehatten could have ever aspired to be. All attached to the center ring that was known as the Presidium, where the rich and politically influential conducted their business in comfort of the highest quality among glittering fountains and lush greenery. It was also where she had spent the last five days, performing her role as “Madam President” in front of the Council and trying to secure her people’s place in this galaxy.

The Equestrian Board of Directors (ie. her fellow former Elements of Harmony), Councilor Anderson, and Forty-Two had all assured her she did a magnificent job in that respect. But now, as the transport was leaving the gleaming structures of the Presidium behind and beginning to descend over a particular Ward arm, she was beginning to have doubts.

The Wards were also impressive in their own right; each arm completely covered in bright steel and blinking lights, with tall skyscrapers reaching out into open space while still seeming tiny in comparison to the scale of the Citadel as a whole. What the Wards lacked in the Presidium’s tranquil beauty, they more than made up for in activity, as the streets and thoroughfares between buildings were alive with light and movement, like blood rushing through the veins of some great animal.

But as they grew closer to the Ward arm that was clearly their destination, the details of what lay below began to sink in for Twilight, causing her anxiousness to grow.

Large swaths of the section they were headed for were almost completely dark, in stark contrast to the bustling areas around it. While there was obvious activity, it was not to the degree one would expect from legions of aliens going about their daily business. Most of the action appeared to be that of construction and repair crews, maneuvering among wrecked buildings and collapsed infrastructure that looked like it belonged in a warzone. Even the areas that seemed to be cleared of debris also looked to be far more muted than the other Wards.

“Pilot?” Twilight spoke up, directing her question towards the dark brown turian in the cockpit. He wore a C-Sec uniform, his fingers maneuvering over the holographic console with a practiced ease.

“Yes, Madam President?” the turian replied pleasantly, managing to inject a degree of politeness into what was still an alien-sounding vocalization to the pony.

“Where are we going?” the unicorn asked, trying not to cringe at the title that she still was not entirely comfortable with, before thinking it might behoove her to be less casual in her speech. “That is, what is our destination?”

“Tayseri Ward, ma’am,” the officer offered as he nodded back to Twilight, his alien appearance preventing her from reading his expressions. “District Twelve-Eighty-Six. We will be making our final descent in just a moment.”

“What’s happening out there?” Twilight continued, her earlier concern hardly set to rest, as she took note of a large industrial machine maneuvering a heavy section of metal pipe over an exposed opening that appeared to be gushing waste materials.

“Reconstruction,” the pilot answered simply. Just then, Twilight felt a slight lift in her stomach as they entered the gravity field of the Ward. The resulting adjustment in the mass effect field keeping them aloft, imperceptible to most organics, was nonetheless felt as a subtle tingling in the base of her horn. “Tayseri got hit hardest in the Geth attack two years ago; lots of collateral damage when the humans blew up their flagship. Last I heard, they were still trying to get full power and atmosphere restored to the most-affected areas.”

“It looks...” Twilight hesitated as they passed over an area filled with grim-faced aliens milling about, and she tried to find a gentle term for what she was seeing “...a little run-down.”

“That’s putting it mildly, ma’am. Still, you should have seen it six months ago, back when they had finally done enough work on the Presidium and other Wards to even consider starting here,” the turian told her. “Lots of casualties, lots of damage, and a great big legal mess over who owned what was left.”

Twilight considered this for a moment, and was about to ask the turian if he could elaborate, before he unexpectedly spoke up, addressing someone else over the ship’s communication.

“This is C-Sec Civilian Transport Five-Five to Citadel Control, requesting clear descent vector to Twelve-Eighty-Six. Please confirm.”

Twilight’s ears pitched forwards as she listened in, watching a glowing panel on the dash of the transport open up a display indicating audio feedback.

“Confirmed, Five-Five. Public traffic diverted. You are clear to descend. Delegation is on standby and awaiting your arrival.”

Twilight drew back, glancing over to her personal mech, which met her glance with an equally curious expression communicating through its green crystalline eyes.

“Delegation? Why would--” the unicorn started before the turian cut her off somewhat curtly, while still attempting to maintain a polite, professional tone.

“I’m just following procedures, ma’am. Your contact at the docking area should be able to answer all of your questions. If you could please engage your safety harness, we can begin...”

The pilot paused a moment, looking back over his shoulder towards the quadruped laying across two seats, each equipped with a set of shoulder straps that were designed for taller, thinner creatures of a very different build. As he observed her, Twilight raised an eyebrow, giving the turian a dubious expression that communicated the obvious futility of his advice.

“Right... Nevermind, ma’am. Beginning descent.” The turian officer turned away, eager to drop off his cargo and return to active duty as soon as possible.

——————

The large, unremarkable grey transport, a boxy craft with large, clumsy-looking thrusters situated at its fore and aft, descended with an ease and grace that few could have suspected from its outwardly utilitarian appearance. Settling into a dock along the edge of the specified shipping lane, the large magnetic clamps set into the side wall reached up to secure the transport. Then, two narrow ramps unfolded from the ship’s sides, extending to reach ground level as the smooth metal doors connected to them slid open.

The first to emerge from the vessel, Twilight Sparkle blinked for a moment in the unfiltered light of the nebula surrounding the station as she stepped out onto the ramp to survey her surroundings.

One thing was immediately apparent: It wasn’t the Presidium.

There was no greenery here, or any signs of life at all, for that matter. Their surroundings were glaringly utilitarian, lacking any sort of organic feeling and utterly unadorned beyond the numbers stamped into the bulkhead panels.

The layout immediately struck Twilight as odd; running completely counter to what she normally considered a place meant to be lived in. The whole area, aside from the dock, was encapsulated by three steel bulkheads; two thick walls on the left and right, with the third being an inclined slope on which a majority of the district’s buildings sat.

The sloping area itself was divided into four shelf-like sections, like a staircase built for a giant, leading to the upper edge of the Ward arm. These platforms grew smaller as they moved up the wall, like layers of a cake, connected by a series of large stairwells that led up and down between them.

On the bottommost level, just in front of the dock, several buildings clearly intended to be some sort of storage warehouses sat lined up in a row, each one easily big enough to fit the transport that had ferried them there. Aside from the dock itself, the only other entrances to the district appeared to be a series of elevators set up along the walls lining the ground floor, obviously allowing for transit to and from the nearby districts.

Leading up, the buildings grew more diverse. Some were open-air configurations, where one might assume they would be perfect for storefronts. Others were more reserved, their only outward features being a door, and perhaps a window now and then.

The very top level, the unicorn realized, had room for only three buildings. When she squinted, she could see that one of them bore the icon she had come to learn represented C-Sec, leading her to immediately identify the Security Station for what it was.

But everything else was empty, sterile, and lacked any personality whatsoever.

Twilight hadn’t been sure what she was expecting, but this certainly had not been it. And as she turned her head to her left, she watched for a moment as a procession of ponies, lead by a familiar multicolored mane, began to move off the transport down the second ramp.

A cold nudge on her flank snapped the dismayed unicorn back to reality.

“Madam President?” Forty-Two queried, a tone of concern in his hushed voice before he nodded behind them, bringing her attention to the queue that was forming behind her immobile form.

“Right...” Twilight returned the gesture, moving forwards as she started down the ramp and for the first time brought her attention down to the dock itself.

She paused again, although this time, her expression drew back into a smile in realization of who their “delegation” happened to be.

“Good morning, Madam President. Welcome to the Wards,” came the deep, baritone voice that belonged to a clean-cut, dark-skinned human, standing at the bottom of the ramp wearing a dark blue suit she had seen quite often over the past few days. “I hope the ride down was comfortable.”

“Councilor Anderson?” Twilight was surprised, moving down the ramp at a steady trot now as she took note of several humans, asari, and salarians in matching uniforms that she had come to identify with the Council Tower’s staff. “What are you doing here?”

“Citadel Public Itinerary indicates the Council is currently in session,” Forty-Two stated, keeping just alongside the unicorn mare as it chirped in the emotionless fashion it used in the presence of other organics. “Councilor David Anderson’s presence was not anticipated.”

“This morning’s economic session was postponed, not that I’m complaining.” The former Alliance Captain shook his head, before his features creased with a warm smile. “This is a big moment for you and your people, Twilight. I’d rather be down here helping you get situated than up in the Presidium pushing papers around.”

“You set aside something that important just to see us off?” Twilight was shocked, bringing a hoof to her mouth as she considered that the action would actually be typical of the human’s past behavior. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t that important. And besides, it wasn’t my call to begin with,” Anderson explained, giving the equine president a short nod as she neared the bottom of the ramp. “The Turian Councilor called for the postponement; something about a clerical error down at C-Sec Headquarters. Unusual for Sparatus to rush off like that, but it gave me the opportunity to make sure that everything went smoothly with the Herd’s transfer. As for why I decided to come in person, well... I just thought it might make things easier.”

He towered over her, as humans tended to do to her species, but in Anderson’s case, there was much more to it than a matter of height. The gruff human simply had a special sort of quality about him, like he was the best one to turn to when tough decisions needed to be made, and could take command of any situation when the need arose. And yet, Twilight never got the impression that he was looking down on her in any way. It was just one of the things that had so quickly endeared him to her, and in the short time she had known him, she found herself trusting Anderson as readily as one of her own kind.

“That, and I felt you deserved an explanation for the suddenness of all this,” Anderson continued as they stepped away from the Herd. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, but we needed to move quickly in order to avoid... complications.”

“What sort of complications?” Twilight asked, now intrigued.

The Human Councilor let out a breath, raising a hand under his chin. “I’ll explain in detail later. Suffice to say that certain parties weren’t too happy about us setting all this up for you and your people.”

“Setting up what?” Twilight paused as she looked around, a sudden realization sinking in that she had glossed over during her preliminary scan of the surroundings.

There was nobody else here.

Aside from the Council Staff, who were almost finished rounding up the Herd near the exit of the dock, there wasn’t a single alien in sight. The streets and paths between the buildings were completely empty, as were the buildings themselves, which stood open and bare. The entire area had been cleared of debris, and simply sat there, as if it were just waiting for somebody, or somepony to occupy it.

“You can’t be serious...” Twilight’s earlier concern was replaced with shock as she came to realize exactly what was being offered.

“That’s right. The whole district,” Anderson confirmed with a nod, while casting his arm out in a sweeping motion. “Consider it a ‘protected habitat’ for the sake of your endangered species argument. It’s yours to do with as you see fit.”

“Hey, Twilight?” a new voice interrupted, drawing the unicorn’s attention to the approaching blue pegasus mare. Her wings beating softly and mostly out of habit, she floated towards them gracefully before hovering in place, folding her forearms together. “What’s going on? These guys aren't telling us anything.”

“Uhh... well,” Twilight stumbled slightly, her mind reeling as she came to realize the situation they had stumbled into before she looked past Rainbow to the Herd.

They were confused and uncertain, speaking amongst themselves in hushed, worried tones. Looking over their surroundings with critical eyes and clearly coming to the same conclusions that Twilight had first drawn of a desolate, empty place, the silence nearly deafening compared to the din of activity elsewhere on the station. A few of the more timid-looking among them cast their eyes backwards as the transport that had shuttled them there retracted its loading ramps, was released from the magnetic docking clamps, and slowly coasted away.

Those expressions made her heart sink.

“You should say something to them,” Anderson stated calmly, coming to the same conclusion as he too observed the Herd’s initial, unimpressed reaction.

“But... what am I supposed to say? I don’t even fully understand what’s going on myself yet.” Twilight shook her head, drawing a concerned look from Rainbow, who was also clearly in the dark. “Councilor, perhaps you could...”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Twilight,” the human answered solemnly, raising a hand to give her pause. “It’s not my place. These are your people, not mine. You’re their leader. They trust you.”

Anderson bent down, bringing himself to her level, before placing his hand on her shoulder in a compassionate gesture. “I can see you understand what’s ahead of you; what the stakes are. Now it’s up to you to help them see as well.”

“But... how?”

“Just tell them the truth,” the human said with conviction.

Twilight gulped slightly as she nodded, more out of obligation than agreement before starting away from the Human Councilor and following Rainbow back towards the Herd.

The assembled ponies quieted down almost immediately as she moved to the front, turning to face the Madam President while Rainbow pulled back to the front row, joining the rest of the crowd. Anderson and Forty-Two stood at her flank.

Twilight’s ears flicked slightly as she took a few steadying breaths, trying not to let it show that her heart felt like it was about to burst.

After the Exodus of Equestria, on the Normandy, there had been no great address or show of hooves. Everypony had known what had occurred; they all understood the situation. And while she was still unable to grasp when it happened exactly, everypony had immediately looked to her as their leader.

But this was her first real moment standing before her people as Madam President of the Equestrian Herd, their eyes on her and her alone as they waited to hear what she had to say.

She had been in front of an audience before. She had given countless private dissertations on various scientific and magical topics during her time as Celestia’s pupil, as well as occasionally sparing a few words to the residents of Ponyville at the request of Mayor Mare from time to time.

But this was different, she realized. There were no notes, no script to fall back on. Not even so much as somepony to give her a lead-in.

For a long, awkward moment, she merely looked back at them, her eyes roving over the dizzying array of colored fur as she picked out the ponies she recognized and the ones with whom she only had a passing knowledge.

Twilight then looked to her friends, each standing in the front row and waiting to hear what she had to say.

She took a deep breath, focusing on the five of them as she willed her composure to remain in place.

“My fellow Equestrians...” she started, having to pause as she tried to find the words. “When we first arrived here on the Citadel, we had lost so much.”

The ponies standing before her watched the unicorn as she started to move, pacing slightly as she continued to speak.

“We lost our homes... Family and friends... Our entire way of life was shattered... leaving what was left of us to try and pick up the pieces. I think... everypony here knows that pain.”

She saw a few eyes turn downcast, clearly having struck something among the gathered ponies. Applejack in particular seemed to be the most affected by her words, removing the stetson perched upon her head and holding it to her chest as she maintained a respectful silence.

“But... um...” The mare stumbled over her words a bit, losing her momentum as she was unable to think of a suitable follow-up for several seconds. “That pain isn’t meant to be ignored. It’s... it’s what gives us strength. And if we can rely on those around us to help us move past it, then I know we can weather almost anything.”

Twilight tried her best to inject an amount of bravado in her words, but to her own ears, they sounded hollow; detached from emotion. Once again, she looked to her closest friends as a source of encouragement to keep going, as she had so often done when things got tough in the past.

Little did she know they were about to do one better.

Speaking up loudly and clearly enough for everyone to hear, Rarity stepped forwards to give her piece.

“You’re absolutely right, Twilight. We’re all in this together, no matter what happens.”

“Darn straight,” Applejack added, replacing her hat on top of her blond mane. “Everypony here’s got yer back. We’re not gonna let nuthin’ tear us apart. Not now, not ever.”

“That’s right!” With a start, Rainbow pushed off the ground, hovering a few feet in the air as she turned to address the still-silent gathering of the Equestrian species. “Come on, everypony! Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna show Twilight some support!?”

A series of hushed murmurs ran through the crowd, a few of the ponies nervously shuffling on their hooves before another voice rang out from the masses.

“A’course we will!” piped up a voice that could only have belonged to little Apple Bloom. “Ya’ll can do it, Twi!”

Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie, whose happy grin was on full display despite her once-poofy mane laying flat against her neck, leaned forwards from the front of the group and cupped a hoof to her muzzle. “Keep going, Twilight! You’re doing great!” she whispered, offering some badly-needed encouragement to the purple unicorn that was accompanied and amplified by steady nods from the rest of her friends.

The Madam President set her jaw as she looked at each of her closest companions, who each looked back at her with expressions of the utmost faith and kindness. It took everything she had not to tear up in front of everyone, and yet she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of moisture well up in her eyes as she found solace in what she herself had said just moments ago.

If there was one thing that remained true in the transition between fantasy and reality, it was that she could always count on her friends to be there for her when she needed them most.

Twilight closed her eyes and took another deep breath, the words now coming naturally to her, so full of feeling that she could have sworn it was her heart, and not her mouth, that was speaking them.

“But there is one thing that we will not, cannot lose. Something that can never be taken away from us, and that is the faith we have in ourselves and each other.” Twilight’s head was now raised high, and she noted several of the heads in the crowd start nodding in agreement. “Our ancestors were once in the same position we are now; thrust into the wider world. A whole galaxy filled with danger and uncertainty, but also filled with enormous potential.”

Twilight turned around, resuming her pace as a mixture of hope and tenacity spurred her onwards.

“Granted, we’re starting with considerably less than they did, and the odds are stacked against us... But are we going to let that stand in our way?”

A chorus of “No!”s rang out from nearly half of the crowd, accompanied by an impressive amount of stomped hooves on the metal floor; an unexpected reaction to the assembled aliens who observed them, a few of them taken aback by the sudden change in the atmosphere.

“That’s right! We will adapt. We will rebuild. We will stand tall, and we will stand proud! And in time, we will earn a place for ourselves among the people of this galaxy!”

The members of the Council Staff started to exchange a few wary glances, as the air filled with no small amount of enthusiastic cheering, and the floor rumbled beneath their feet with what took them a second to recognize as Equestrian applause.

“But we have to start somewhere, and that place is here! The time is now!” Twilight stood up on her hind legs, suddenly towering over the rest of the assembled ponies as she balanced herself and waved one hoof back towards the empty buildings. “Our friends and allies on the Council have offered us a grand opportunity. A place to establish ourselves; a place to call our own.”

Twilight went back down on four hooves and spared a look to Anderson, who had his arms crossed, and was smirking with approval.

“From here we take our first steps into the unknown. What I see here isn’t just a collection of empty buildings and steel bulkheads; what I see is opportunity. A place that will put us well on our way towards realizing our destiny...”

The purple unicorn paused, closing her eyes and holding a hoof to her chest as she allowed herself a brief moment of reflection. She thought about her past and the things that were important to her. Specifically, she found her thoughts turning to the fateful day when her once-beloved mentor, Princess Celestia, sent her on what she thought at the time to be an utterly pointless venture. The day when she left the ivory towers of Canterlot and discovered a quiet little town, where she would come to find the things that gave her life direction and meaning.

When she opened her eyes again, Twilight knew exactly what she wanted to say next.

“Fillies and gentlecolts-- No... My friends... Welcome.” The Madam President took a deep breath, knowing that this moment would stay in the hearts and minds of her people for perhaps the rest of their lives.

“Welcome... to New Ponyville!”

An even greater amount of shouts and applause emanated from the ponies, and Twilight’s chest swelled with pride as she noted how everyone in attendance was now looking at their surroundings with new eyes, their minds almost visibly alight with the possibilities.

And as her five friends galloped forwards to offer a generous helping of hugs and expressions of approval at her performance, a tiny part of her mind that wasn’t currently flooded with endorphins conspired to make one very sobering observation.

I’m going to be doing this for the rest of my life.

——————

“Whew! Not bad, right?” Twilight said to Anderson, after she managed to get away from the various members of the Herd that had rushed up to speak with her following the speech.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a natural, Twilight. Given a little more practice, you might even give Shepard a run for his money,” the Human Councilor responded with an added chuckle, before noticing the tension that the pony was still carrying in her body. “How do you feel?”

“Heart hammering, ears ringing, and I can’t feel my hooves,” Twilight related to the human, her smile still in place although her tone indicated that she was quite shellshocked. “Aside from that... doing great!”

“That sounds about right,” Anderson nodded. “To be honest, you did even better than I expected. Being able to appeal to a group on a personal level like that is a rare gift.”

Twilight released a soft sigh as she relaxed, looking over her shoulder as Forty-Two came up to take his customary position at her flank.

“The Herd has begun exploration of New Ponyville, Madam President,” the drone told her in its measured, digital voice. “Initial settlement is underway. Changeling units are coordinating with Council Staff to facilitate orderly integration. Directors will be immediately notified if any issues occur.”

“Thank you, Forty-Two.”

“Your assistant seems to have things well in hand, Twilight,” Anderson noted. “If you have the time, perhaps I can give you a tour.”

Twilight’s ears twitched slightly at the subtle shift in the human’s voice, which she took as an indication that a simple walk around the district wasn’t the only thing he had in mind. The mare had not been in politics for long, but as she watched his body language, with so many gestures similar to those of her own kind, she took note of the manner in which he looked over towards the Council Staff, who were smiling as they pointed out the surroundings to many of her fellow Equestrians.

The Madam President of the Herd folded her ears back, a serious expression taking hold of her features.

“Forty-Two, could you inform the others that I’m taking a meeting? The Councilor and I have things to discuss.”

“Of course, Madam President.” The changeling’s wings buzzed for a moment, the lights on the antennae that made up its “ears” winking in and out as they broadcast the directive, before it spoke up again. “Twenty-One of Thirty has been notified and will deliver the message.”

“Let’s get started then, shall we?” Anderson smiled again, motioning the Equestrian to follow him as he started into the lower level of New Ponyville.

——————

“How did the Council manage all this?” Twilight asked directly, worry in her eyes as she began to appreciate the sheer size of the Ward district that had been simply given over to them. “So much open space... just for us? The Wards always looked so… crowded.”

As much as she would've liked to just accept this gift at face value, a nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her this was simply too good to be true. There had to be strings attached.

“Brute force diplomacy, a lot of fast talking, and pointing out the right laws to the right people.” Anderson shook his head. “After your last session yesterday, the other Councilors and I spent a few hours going over our options. We couldn’t just throw you out into an occupied Ward unprepared, so we had to come up with something else.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Twilight nodded, finding herself imagining what would have happened if they had gotten off the transport in the middle of one of the Wards’ many thoroughfares and been left to fend for themselves among the hordes of locals.

“It wasn’t so much concern as it was a matter of necessity. The Council is well aware of the power the media has, as well as how much attention they have been paying to your plight. Dropping your Herd anywhere else would have been seen as akin to tossing an infant into a varren den.” Anderson didn’t seem particularly pleased about this fact, and although it did strike Twilight as rather blunt, she appreciated that the Human Councilor didn’t shy away or try to sugarcoat the facts.

“We had to come up with something else, and the timing for our ‘Plan B’ couldn’t have been more perfect. For the first time in millennia, there were entire areas of the Citadel Wards left completely unoccupied; all claims of ownership voided because of the casualties during the battle two years ago. All of the abandoned areas that we’ve managed to restore recently went up for public auction, including this one, which turned out to be the ideal choice.”

Anderson gestured to the large bulkheads that ran up either side of the shelf-like platforms, then to the Ward wall to which the levels were affixed.

“Blocks such as Twelve-Eighty-Six are arranged along the edges of the Ward, and the design isolates this particular area from the rest of Tayseri. Aside from the dock, the only way in is through either of the two adjacent districts. There’s enough designated living space for your entire species, and the rest can be modified to suit any number of functions.” Anderson proceeded to point out details relevant to his description, trying to put as much of a positive spin on the blank slate that was to be her new home. “The Council is hoping that this is enough to demonstrate their support to the public, while putting what happens next, including your decisions and the consequences that follow, squarely under your responsibility and not theirs.”

“So...” Twilight started, following the logic of his statement. “This is pretty much the Council kicking us out of the nest.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way...” Anderson shook his head, clearly disapproving of Twilight’s tone. “Don’t get me wrong; the other Council members are hardly rooting for you to fail. But they haven’t gotten to where they are without exercising caution in unknown situations. There’s a reason they waited as long as they did to intervene in the First Contact War with my people.”

Twilight nodded, having taken the time to read up on the rapid ascent of Humanity to their current position on the galactic stage. She considered this information as the two continued to walk down the streets of New Ponyville before something that had been sitting at the back of her mind came to the front.

“You said that we had to be rushed up here to avoid complications,” the mare pointed out, curiosity tinging her tone.

“That I did. You know how I said the timing was perfect? I’m not exaggerating. Twelve-Eighty-Six and seven other districts went up for sale several months ago, and no small number of private individuals were dead set on acquiring them. The auction was literally hours away from closing when we intervened and seized the property.”

“Uhhh…” Twilight hesitated as she paused in her gait, her expression worried. “I’m not claiming to be a lawyer, but that doesn’t strike me as being entirely legal.”

“It’s politics: Sometimes you have to stretch the law in order to get what you need.” Anderson shook his head, using his hand to rub the corners of his eyes. “In this case, we’re lucky we were able to work within the law at all. Several obscure clauses in the Galactic Species Protection Act allow the Council to designate areas in Citadel Space as ‘Protected Habitats.’ It's never happened on the Citadel, but there was nothing in the fine print that said it couldn’t be done. However, even though we refunded his credits, the highest bidder on the district was preparing a legal counter-suite argument before we had so much as finished finalizing the documentation. If we didn’t act fast, the decision could’ve been held up in the courts for who knows how long.”

“So, if I understand you correctly...” The wheels in Twilight’s mind were turning as she considered this, reaching the conclusion before Anderson could finish relating the story to her. “As the endangered species in question, we had to actually be in the district in order to make it qualify as a habitat.”

“Exactly. And it’s a lot harder to legally displace an endangered species when they’ve already settled in. The lawyers will keep trying to get their way, but now they don’t even have a leg to stand on.” The Councilor sighed, his expression turning serious. “However, I’m afraid that this offering is the most we’ll be able to provide to you. Anything beyond this, and the other species might start accusing us of playing favorites.”

“So we’re on our own now?” Twilight asked, although she regretted her tone immediately as Anderson’s expression hardened.

“In terms of direct support, I’m afraid so,” the human confirmed, his face turning grim. “You still have all the legal protections afforded an endangered species, but you’re also an independent sentient race, and with that comes an expectation of self-reliance. You need to show that you can stand on your own two feet... in a manner of speaking.”

From her position alongside him, the lavender unicorn rolled her eyes at Anderson’s attempt at a joke; a gesture that he happened not to notice as he continued to impart more details about their situation.

“That being said, this is still Citadel property, and not a sovereign Equestrian State. C-Sec will assign an officer to serve as the district’s liaison within the next few days. Whoever they select will be staying here indefinitely in order to make sure things stay peaceful and orderly. If there are any legal issues, or if you need to get in contact with C-Sec, you go through him.”

The Madam President considered all of this for a few moments, carefully filing away what she had been told before nodding.

“I understand,” Twilight replied blankly, not wanting to betray any emotion at what was clearly something that Anderson felt he needed to impress upon her.

“Good.” The human’s expression softened. “Now that that’s out of the way, do you feel like hearing some advice from an old war veteran?”

“As long as we’re clear that I’m under no obligation to follow it,” Twilight responded, perhaps a bit more sorely than she intended.

“You learn quickly...” Anderson smirked, his tone approving, before moving on to more serious matters. “In this galaxy, trust is a valuable commodity. It’s even more valuable on a place like the Citadel; there’ll be no shortage of folks who will try to take advantage of your situation.”

“I’m well aware of that, Anderson...” the unicorn remarked bitingly, feeling that the former captain was wasting his time pointing out the obvious. “You don’t need to worry; my people know how to handle themselves.”

“No, they don’t, Twilight. That’s the problem,” the human put it bluntly, as he stopped walking and turned to face her. “Your people are far too trusting for their own good. That might’ve worked well enough in your virtual world, but out here, if members of the Herd start associating with the wrong people, I have no doubt it’ll end badly. You need to be careful in picking those you choose to get close to, and the same goes for the rest of your species.”

Anderson’s words stung deeper than Twilight would care to admit, but she couldn’t deny that the veteran had a point. If the Equestrian Herd was to survive, they had to be vigilant in protecting their interests from those who would come bearing wide smiles... and sharp teeth.

Twilight closed her eyes contemplatively, taking Anderson’s advice to heart. She could tell he wasn’t quite finished, though. “I get the feeling you already have someone in mind.”

The Human Councilor nodded solemnly. “Cerberus, for starters.”

“Cerberus...” Twilight expression instantly soured at hearing the name of the pro-human paramilitary group, and with good reason.

One of the first things she had done upon acquiring an extranet connection at the Citadel was to look up as much information about Cerberus as she could, considering their connection with Commander Shepard and the role they played in ultimately uncovering the Equestria Facility. It didn’t come as a surprise that a lot of information about the shady organization and their mysterious leader, the Illusive Man, was either nonexistent, or made up of rumors and hearsay. What little she did manage to find only served to bolster her impression of the group as a brutal, uncaring gang of thugs who cared only about furthering their own goals.

Not that she needed any added incentive, seeing as one of their top scientists was almost singlehandedly responsible for pulling the plug on her entire species.

The very thought of what that man attempted to do nearly caused Twilight’s blood to boil, and she tried to shake her head clear of those thoughts before she was reminded of one... particularly unpleasant memory. She looked back up at Anderson with determination set into her features.

“I already know Cerberus can’t be trusted. If I so much as see one of their uniforms, the person who’s wearing it’s going to be shown the door.” Twilight then stopped, rubbing a hoof against her chin for a second before adding one exception to her declaration. “Unless it’s Shepard, of course.”

“Of course.” Anderson allowed himself a brief chuckle. “I’m glad to hear it. Although you might be glad to know the Commander’s business with them will most likely be coming to an end soon.”

“Oh?” Twilight perked up a bit, surprised, as news of Shepard’s actions had been virtually impossible to come by since the two of them parted ways.

“That’s right. At least, I’m fairly sure that--” The human was interrupted mid-sentence as his left hand started to glow a bright orange, giving of a computerized chirp. He brought his hand up in front of him, and with a swift motion of his fingers, brought up the main display of his omni-tool, which encapsulated his forearm in its holographic interface. He took one look at the information scrolling across its transparent screen before he let a heavy breath out through his nose.

“I’m sorry, excuse me… I have to take this.” Anderson sighed as he held up his hand, clearly not pleased about the interruption before moving two fingers to his ear and walking off to the side in order to get some privacy.

“Madam President,” Forty-Two spoke up, causing Twilight to jump slightly, having forgotten that the mech was even there and drawing her attention away from the Councilor. “During this meeting, I have received multiple communications from Changeling Unit Nineteen of Eighty. Director Pie requires your presence. I believe she considers her matter to be of utmost importance.”

“Okay…” Twilight nodded, thinking that if Pinkie considered something important enough to notify her about it, it probably deserved a moment of her time. “As soon as we finish up here, I should be able to set aside some time for--”

“I have also received requests for your attention from Director Applejack, Director Dash, Director Rarity, Miss Heartstrings, and Miss Silver, all marked as ‘urgent.’”

Twilight’s ear and eye twitched in sync with one another.

“Anything else?” she asked hesitantly, almost dreading the answer.

“There are one hundred and seventy-eight notifications for you of lower than urgent priority. Shall I relate them?”

Twilight set her hoof to her face with a slight moan. Clearly, getting settled in was going to be a little harder than she first thought.

“Madam President,” Anderson drew her attention again, shaking his head and looking less than pleased himself. “I’m afraid I have to end our conversation here. The Council will be reconvening shortly and I have to attend.”

“I understand, Councilor.” Twilight nodded respectfully. “I seem to have my hooves full as well.”

“I know the feeling. Don’t worry, it gets easier,” the Councilor assured her.

“Really?” Twilight looked up hopefully.

“...No.”

…

Twilight gave the human a half-lidded, incredulous look in response to his deadpan delivery, but was unable to hold it for long before she devolved into a short burst of snickering, which in turn brought the smile back to Anderson’s tired features.

“While I can’t officially give you any sort of direction, if you need someone to talk to, my door is always open.” Anderson offered his hand, which Twilight reached up to meet with her hoof, easily engaging in the shared custom. “Goodbye… and good luck.”

The Councilor turned to walk away, leaving Twilight and the black pony mech alone as the Madam President steeled herself for the tasks ahead.

And at her side, Forty-Two “blinked” for a fraction of a second.

*Updating Codex*

*New Ponyville: updated*
*Councilor David Anderson: updated*

——————

Imagination.

That was how she did it, she realized that now.

Hours ago, Twilight had enticed her fellow Equestrians past their hesitation at the dock and into their new home by encouraging them to imagine what it could be.

She had encouraged them to dream big.

Now, her head was laying on a table in what was clearly meant to be an observation deck on New Ponyville’s third level, with over a dozen individual datapads scattered haphazardly in front of her. As she half-listened to the back and forth between her assistant and the pony they were conversing with, trying to ignore the insistent pounding behind her horn, she realized her mistake.

She should have told them to dream conservatively.

Imagination was free. Reality, on the other hoof...

“...this is also taking into account the current taxation and importation rates on the equipment that is not produced on the Citadel. Add in the required licensing fees and that should just about wrap it up. Alright, Madam President, I believe I now have a rough estimate for...” The grey-coated earth pony mare looked up from her calculations for the first time in nearly half an hour and her expression dropped at the realization that she had been addressing the top of Twilight’s head the whole time.

“I’m sorry, Miss Sparkle. Am I boring you?” Sterling Silver, the financial expert and self-appointed “Treasurer” of the Equestrians, offered in a slightly condescending tone.

“No, but you are seriously depressing me, Sterling,” Twilight shot back. “And to think, I used to enjoy doing complex math.”

There was little love lost between the former librarian and the former premier banker and bit-lender of Ponyville. While the two had not known one another well enough to have bad blood between them, the very different manners of the two intelligent mares did put them at odds socially.

Whereas Twilight liked to think of herself as open and empathetic, Sterling often came across as cold and calculating. She wasn’t hostile or overly mean, but the pony was well aware of her skills in the field of finance and often went to great lengths to make sure that everypony else knew about it as well.

Of course, since their escape from Equestria and the realization that all of her hard-won wealth was now completely irrelevant, Sterling had taken it upon herself to study the economical intricacies of Citadel Space; something for which Twilight had had no time for and thus made Sterling (unfortunately) invaluable in the crisis which Twilight now found herself mired in.

“The mathematics are not the issue, Miss Sparkle.” Sterling shook her head, her manner entirely businesslike. “The issue is that we are attempting to build an economy within an established galactic financial system utterly from scratch. This will not happen overnight and it certainly will not happen with ease.”

“Yes... I have come to this realization several times in the last two hours!” Twilight snapped, lifting her head before she took a breath.

Sterling Silver held back another biting comment, clearly taking notice of the unicorn’s testy expression and keeping quiet until Twilight had taken a few breaths.

“Okay... Bottom line...” Twilight tried to relax, thinking that perhaps it might not be as bad as she feared. Perhaps she was just letting her imagination run away with her. “What do we need?”

Sterling was quiet for a moment as she set the datapad down, having painstakingly tapped out the numbers on the holographic interface to maintain an accurate accounting, and slid it across the table.

Ugh, give me an abacus and a roll of parchment any day, Twilight mused as her horn ignited in a soft violet glow, gripping the device in a gentle biotic field and maneuvering it over in front of her eyes.

…

That… was not a small number.

Or was it?

“Uhhh, just for the sake of reference, how would you quantify the exchange rate? A hundred credits to a bit? A thousand credits?” the unicorn asked hopefully.

“In terms of value it’s probably best to imagine it as a one-to-one ratio,” Sterling offered, her distaste of the sordid affair tinting her otherwise professional tone. “And this is just to get started. I haven’t even begun to figure in long-term expenses.”

Twilight’s biotic projection halted, dropping the datapad to the table with a deafening clatter.

“Th-that’s insane!” Twilight set two hooves together nervously, leaning forward. “There have to be corners we can cut. Some way to make it less--”

“Twilight, we are building a society literally from the ground up. Aside from basic amenities like food and maintaining utilities to the district, we also need to invest in multiple venues with the goal of generating revenue.” The mare raised a hoof and set it down forcefully on the table to punctuate her point. “We need income, Madam President, and the only way to do that is to get money we don’t have into the hooves of the ponies who need it to start businesses.”

Twilight set her face into her hooves as she felt her entire world start crumbling around her.

Everypony needed something.

Pinkie Pie had been adamant in her claim of one of the warehouses on the bottom level, assuring Twilight that her “research station,” and the accompanying results of her “research,” would play a vital role in establishing New Ponyville. She assured her that she could get started (on what exactly, Twilight was still unsure) as soon as they could secure some basic equipment.

She had Pinkie give Forty-Two a list of what she needed.

Meanwhile, Applejack was worried about food and other supplies while Rainbow’s primary concern was about security for their new home after seeing the admittedly-lacking living conditions of their neighboring districts. These were both reasonable concerns, but Rarity (for some reason that eluded Twilight completely) remained absolutely convinced that the Equestrians needed to place fashion as a top priority.

They had all of their needs added to Forty-Two’s list.

And everywhere she had went, there were ponies approaching her, not sure who else to speak to given their simple structure of authority. So many things were going to be required in order to make New Ponyville livable, and by extension, the Equestrians viable as a species. And everypony had a different idea on how to go about it.

When Forty-Two gave his list to Sterling, Twilight was only beginning to realize just how difficult this was going to be.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she kept her eyes closed as she asked the most important question. “What are our options?”

“Well, first I should point out that we are not completely lacking in revenue,” Sterling assured her, searching through the datapads for a moment before bringing up one in particular. “Over the past few days, with the press hovering like flies around the refugee camp, there have been quite a few well-wishers from across Citadel Space who have taken an interest in us. These individuals have been kind enough to supply a steady stream of private donations to the financial account the Council provided for our use. It’s only about a quarter of what we need, but it is certainly better than nothing. At the very least we won’t have to worry about going hungry before we get our hooves dug in.”

“It’s certainly refreshing to see,” Twilight agreed, grateful that there were at least some souls in the galaxy who were capable of unbidden generosity. “And to raise the rest?”

“I’ve already found a financial institution that is willing to take a chance on us.” Sterling sifted through the datapads again, her frustration evident as she apparently shared Twilight’s desire for a more pony-friendly method of organization. Eventually finding what she was looking for, she pointed it out to the unicorn before continuing. “Minerva’s Trust: a relatively small human and salarian co-op. They have thirteen years of experience in interspecies banking and a reputation for taking on high-risk cases. They see our potential and have offered to bankroll us with a starting loan. While you were in session with the Council, I went ahead and made contact with them and have read over their contracts. Based on everything I’ve seen, it looks like it’s on the up and up.”

“What’s the catch?” Twilight asked, crossing her forelegs and waiting for the hammer to fall.

“The interest rate is seventeen percent; a little higher than galactic business standard but considering that we have no credit history, it’s not out of the question. Also, we would need to provide collateral.”

“Collateral?” Twilight shook her head. “Sterling, we don’t have anything to use as collateral! All we own is this district and the fur on our backs. What are we supposed to give them?”

“I would have to disagree, Madam President. We do happen to have a sizable number of working Changeling Class drone units. I’ve done some research, and have determined them to have no small amount of value on the open market,” Sterling stated quickly. “A dozen units, offered up as insurance, should be enough to secure the loan.”

“I feel compelled to speak out against this plan,” Forty-Two spoke up suddenly as he moved around the table to Twilight’s side. For a brief moment, a bit of hostile inflection shone through his purposefully monotone voice, drawing an odd look from Sterling before she shook it off and elaborated on her point.

“The drones will be deactivated and placed into a secure safety deposit vault here on the Citadel where nopony can touch them. Once we’ve paid off at least forty-five percent of the loan and established a good payment history, they’ll be returned to us,” the grey mare explained. “It’s a win-win for us, Twilight. This is a perfect chance to built up good credit with minimal risk to our assets.”

“Well, I suppose--”

“Now hold on just one applebuckin’ minute!” Twilight was suddenly jarred from her considerations as she recognized the accented drawl of one of her “Directors.” “Don’t tell me yer actually thinkin’ about goin’ through with this, Twi.”

“Applejack? Were you eavesdropping on us?” Twilight lightly scolded the orange mare as she cantered up to the two ponies’ (and one mech’s) financial summit.

“Nope. Ah was just walkin’ by when Ah overheard this bean counter tryin’ to sell ya’ll some snake oil,” Applejack told her, her expression far from cheerful.

“We are in a meeting!” Sterling stressed, seeming far more upset at the farm pony’s sudden appearance. The two earth ponies wore matching grimaces as they stared each other down. “And if I recall correctly, financial expertise was my special talent, not yours, Applejack.”

“That’s ‘Director’ Applejack now, Sterling.” The orange mare reached up to adjust her hat, almost like she considered it an indication of her status. “And Ah gotta say, borrowin’ money ain’t gonna do nothin’ but get us into trouble, Twi. What if we can’t pay it back? Fellas like that are called ‘loan sharks’ for a reason.”

“I beg to differ! Minerva’s Trust is a reputable business engaged in numerous legitimate financial practices,” Sterling rattled off coldly, clearly showing her displeasure. “As a species, we need this money in order to build a foundation for ourselves. Or perhaps you would prefer us to live hoof-to-mouth like a bunch of vagabonds.”

“Now, Ah never said that. It’s just that Ah have mah own ideas on how to start us out on the right hoof!” Applejack shot back. “If we need money, then we’re just gonna have to earn it. Ya’ll saw the state of the Ward when we was flyin’ over. There’s gotta be a ton of jobs we could get for all sorts of ponies; things that’ll make use of our unique strengths! And ‘sides that, it’ll help us build a reputation for bein’ hard workers, instead of holdin’ out our hooves to folks who’ll just end up takin’ advantage of us.”

“Applejack, you don’t understand. We need a lot of money, and quickly. While I like the sentiment of your idea, we simply don’t have time for it,” Twilight pointed out. “Not only that, but the ponies who find work would have to give up most of what they earned to help support the rest of the Herd; assuming we could even manage to set them up with jobs at all. And to top it all off, we would need to keep track of who’s making what and where they are at all times so that nopony goes missing. Who would coordinate all of that? Certainly not me; I have enough on my plate as it is!”

“Well, shoot, Twi! Ah’d be more than happy to handle all that stuff! It’ll be just like runnin’ a business, and Ah’ve got plenty of experience doin’ just that.” The cowpony smirked, reaching up a hoof to draw her stetson hat down across her eyes. “Just call me Applejack, Director of Labor.”

“Remind me again, ‘Director’ Applejack...” Sterling’s tone had a slight sneer to it. “How many times did I nearly have to foreclose on Sweet Apple Acres?”

“Enough!” Twilight spoke up before Applejack could retort. “Here’s an idea: Why not just do both? We can take the loan to get started, then use the wages supplemented by working ponies to pay it off even faster.”

“And that, Madam President, is why it always pays to read the fine print...” Sterling leaned back, a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she proceeded to take the air out of both ponies’ sails. “If we were to take the Director’s suggestion, and counted the workers’ earnings as revenue towards the Equestrian government, then we would be forced to classify it as taxed income. Minerva’s public policy specifically states that no loan of any kind can be paid back with tax money. It’s a common practice used to prevent scrupulous governments from paying off private debt with public funds. In our case, it means we can only acquire the loan if we agree that our only source of income comes as a direct result of that money.”

“Okay, fine!” Twilight stopped her there, becoming aware that she had begun to grind her teeth. “What if we--”

“AJ! AJ!” a young voice rang out, calling the attention of the three mares and changeling mech as a small yellow filly darted forward at a gallop directly for the orange earth pony. “Ah gotta tell ya ‘bout somethin’!”

Twilight looked up, having lost her sense of their surroundings during the meeting and joining the others in noticing the group of young ponies making their way towards them. Applejack’s younger sister, Apple Bloom, reached them moments before her fellow (former) Cutie Mark Crusaders did. Moving along with them and trying to keep up was a single, tired-looking grey pegasus mare with yellow eyes and a blond mane.

Twilight was clearly glad for the interruption as two more familiar fillies slid into place next to the youngest Apple sibling while the elder Apple gave a resigned sigh.

“What is it this time, Bloom?” she asked, her voice hinting at the fact that she had had this kind of conversation many times since arriving on the Citadel.

“There’s this big, creepy-looking buggy thing that was moving stuff all around!” Sweetie Belle spoke up before her red-maned friend could respond, feeling as though she was relating something of monumental importance. “I thought this place was supposed to be just for ponies!”

“Yeah! We should have Rainbow Dash kick its flank outta New Ponyville! Or maybe call in those ‘Seasick’ guys with the big guns!” Scootaloo said with enthusiasm.

To Twilight’s surprise, a fourth filly moved up next to Scootaloo with a much meeker expression.

“...Hi, Mom,” she said quietly, head bowed as she looked up at the mare in attendance who shared her grey fur coloring.

Now it was Sterling’s turn to sigh as she quickly put together what they were talking about based on Sweetie Belle’s description.

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, Silver Spoon. Sweetheart, don’t tell me you four were pestering a Keeper.”

“That thing was a Keeper?” Scootaloo turned her head at the realization, her eyes widening slightly. “As in, the things we were told not to mess with under any circumstances?”

The four fillies looked at each other with expressions of worry, before simultaneously uttering: “...Oops.”

Their concern was well founded. As the silent caretakers of the Citadel itself, the insectoid Keepers were as mysterious as they were antisocial. They had been present long before any other intelligent race had even set foot on the station, yet their only purpose seemed to be in maintenance and repairs. As such, it was against Citadel Law to so much as interrupt their work; a fact that was not lost on the incorrigible fillies.

“Uh... I mean, no, Mom.” Silver Spoon looked away hesitantly, as if she had been caught with her hoof in the cookie jar. “We were not pestering the creepy Keeper bug.”

Judging by the her tone and the reaction of the four to this revelation, it was almost certain that the grey earth filly meant the exact opposite of what she said.

“Goshdarnit, Apple Bloom! Didn’t Ah tell ya to pay attention when that blue lady was explainin’ this stuff back at the camp!?” Applejack started in on her sister, although Twilight’s attention was turned elsewhere as she was approached by the only other adult who appeared to be accompanying the children.

“Hi, Twilight,” she offered pleasantly.

“Hello, Ditzy,” the unicorn replied, smiling, and glad to see that the mare’s eyes were still looking straight ahead. While in Equestria’s system, her striking yellow eyes were unfortunately marred by a glitch that resulted in them being directed at odd angles; an issue that no longer plagued the former mailmare after she had been freed.

Twilight then leaned to the side, taking note of the almost a dozen or so other small pony forms that had formed a cluster behind the blond pony, seeming to be following her around. “What are they doing with you?”

“Oh...” Ditzy looked over towards the gathered fillies and foals, including the four who were now the center of a stern “talking to” from the other two adult mares. “Well, you see, not everypony was as lucky as Apple Bloom or Silver Spoon to have a direct relative of their own... It broke my heart to see that they literally have nopony to look after them, so I took it upon myself to remedy that. Um... I hope that’s alright with you.”

Twilight smiled warmly, as an issue she was not even aware of was brought to her attention and summarily dismissed. “Of course, Ditzy. I’m glad that you thought about that. With everything else going on, it’s a blessing that somepony stopped to think about them.”

“Oh, don’t mention it.” Ditzy beamed, blushing slightly as she and Twilight turned to look at the small herd, a laugh running through them as the former Cutie Mark Crusaders hesitantly explained what amounted to “pestering” the Keeper. “It’s really nice, actually. Dinky’s never had so many foals her age to play with. It’s just... rather hard to keep track of all of them at once, you know?”

“I think... we might just be able to help you with that.” Twilight smiled, glad that there was at least one problem she could fix immediately without needing a credit line. “Forty-Two?”

“Contacting units Twelve of Twenty and Eight of Ten.” The changeling didn’t miss a beat, wirelessly sending instructions to his fellow drones with a few blinks of his antennae. “Done. Miss Doo, when these two units arrive, they will act to follow your commands. You may make use of them as you need.”

“Oh, thank you so much! That will certainly help me out.” The grey pegasus smiled, realizing what it was that was being offered and grateful that she was about to have some extra hooves in keeping up with the young ones. “So... if you don’t mind me prying, that is... what exactly are you ladies discussing?”

The unicorn sighed, suddenly reminded of the situation.

“Trying to figure out how we’re going to pay for everything,” she admitted, shaking her head. “Starting up New Ponyville is going to take a lot of credits.”

“Oh, I have an idea!” Ditzy spoke up, her bubbly tone drawing Twilight’s attention while her next words drew everypony else’s. “I’ve heard there have been plenty of folks out there who’ve donated money to our cause already... What if we actually went out and started asking?”

“And the last thing you need to do now is to get wrapped up with...” Sterling paused mid-scold, her ears perking up as she turned towards Ditzy. “Excuse me? What was that?”

“Yeah! The nice blue lady at the camp said a lot of ponies were sending money because they saw how bad off we were and wanted to help,” Sweetie Belle offered, seeing a way out of their current tongue-lashing by completely changing the subject. “And some of that was just from seeing how cute we were.”

“And to think, we weren’t even trying!” Scootaloo added. “We can look way cuter!”

“How could anypony say no to these faces?” Apple Bloom, Sweetie, and Scootaloo leaned into one another, their eyes and expressions suddenly turning sad and pleading... The yellow filly even managed to throw in her special lip quivering maneuver, demonstrating her years of practice in manipulating her elders.

“And don’t forget: Charitable donations are non-taxable,” Silver Spoon noted sagely.

The three other Crusaders ceased their demonstration to look at their newest member with puzzled expressions.

“Well they are...” the young grey earth pony admitted, shrugging her shoulders.

“Apple Bloom! That’s a terrible idea!” Applejack shook her head. “Do ya’ll really wanna get yer cutie mark in askin’ fer handouts?”

“Well, duh; ‘course not. Cutie marks ain’t real no more,” the youngest Apple offered in a flat, chiding tone, which did elicit a collected amused snicker from the gathered foals. “Ah thought ya’ll knew that by now.”

“And you, Silver Spoon!” Sterling bore down on her daughter, clearly disgusted at the thought. “I don’t remember raising you to be a deadbeat, young lady.”

“It’s not really begging, Mom.” The younger filly, who could easily have been mistaken for a smaller, younger version of her mother, tilted her nose up at her in a rebuke of her words. “It’s emotionally-induced, voluntary contribution to a greater cause.”

Twilight had to hide a small chuckle at the way Sterling’s cheeks flushed at the foal’s observation, glad that the fillies had come along to offer the much-needed distraction.

“Madam President,” Forty-Two suddenly spoke up, sounding uncharacteristically concerned before he seemed to remember himself and took on a more neutral tone. “Units Twelve of Twelve and Seventeen of Twenty are reporting a disturbance at New Ponyville’s docking area.”

This caught both Sterling and Applejack’s attention as well, as Twilight turned to face the changeling. “What sort of disturbance?”

“Opening a direct audio feed,” Forty-Two stated simply, the green glow of his eyes thinning to a single horizontal line that jittered around, accompanied by a burst of static before the feed was established. Right away, a strange, halting voice could be heard emanating from the mech.

“Get out of my way... you mechanical beasts...!” came a frustrated, alien tone that paused every few of words to take what sounded like a gasping breath of air. Not only that, it was as if the being was also speaking through an electronic filter. “You are trespassing... on my property!”

“A volus?” Twilight tilted her head inquisitively as she listened.

She had met several of the rotund, pony-sized, exosuit-wearing aliens in the last few days, mostly in support positions at the Council Tower. However, she had never heard one speak with such obvious anger, and Twilight found herself wondering what could have worked this particular volus up to the point where even the sounds of his methane-based breathing apparatus seemed angry.

“This facility is not currently accepting visitors. Please stand by while administration is notified to resolve this matter,” came another voice, clipped and unfeeling, clearly belonging to one of the equine changeling mechs as it spoke a selected response from among its array of prerecorded reactions.

“I said... let me in!”

“Administration has been contacted and notified of your issue. Please remain patient.”

“Good...! Tell your masters to come down here in person...! Tell them that Jex Kailer is here to officially... serve them a notice of eviction...! If they think they can cheat me out of--”

The alien’s voice cut off as Forty-Two’s crystalline eyes regained their full luminosity. “Madam President, the drones are detecting an unusually high level of aggression from the intruder’s vocal patterns and body language. If the situation is not resolved quickly, subject Jex Kailer will be identified as ‘hostile.’”

Applejack and Sterling, both realizing exactly what that meant, looked to Twilight with worried expressions and were equally surprised to see how the Madam President’s eyes had hardened.

There was a moment of troubling silence as Twilight looked back over her shoulder towards the foals, some of whom were looking a bit intimidated by what they had heard.

“Madam President?” Forty-Two asked again as the violet unicorn held her silence.

“Twi...” Applejack appealed, which drew a shake of the head from the unicorn.

“Tell the drones to stand down, but do not let him into the district. I’m on my way,” Twilight stated, huffing softly.

“Ya’ll need help, Twi?” Applejack asked, stepping forward.

“No. Forty-Two and I will deal with him.”

“Twilight... err... Madam President,” Sterling hesitated, the fire in the unicorn’s eyes setting her back slightly. “I know this takes precedence, but I still need your approval to move forward with the loan...”

“Not now, Sterling. I’ll let you know my decision once I’ve had more time to consider our options,” Twilight dismissed her as she went from a walk to a quick canter. “Forty-Two, let’s go.”

Forty-Two’s eyes blinked out for just a moment.

Details regarding New Ponyville financial situation successfully catalogued. Final decision to be made pending further review.

The changeling, its update finished in a fraction of a second, flared its nano-fiber wings and lifted itself from the ground with ease, propelling forward after Twilight as the unicorn broke into a gallop.

——————

“Extranet search complete. Parsing results,” Forty-Two stated as he and the Madam President continued down the stairways to the base level of New Ponyville, the dock now visible with two changelings clearly blocking the path.

“What can you tell me about him?” Twilight asked, her frustration showing through in her words.

“Jex Kailer. Volus. Male. Born 2155, Earth Standard, on volus colony world: Talis Fia. Occupation: Colonial Trader and Investor,” the changeling rattled off quickly. “Owner of Expanding Reaches investment firm.”

“I’m going to need more than his biography, Forty-Two.”

“Expanding Reaches has been investigated multiple times since its founding for unethical business practices,” her assistant relayed. “Charges of unlawful intimidation and misrepresentation have been leveled primarily towards the firm, yet remain unsubstantiated. Mr. Kailer himself has never been personally accused of wrongdoing.”

“Anything else?”

“Affirmative. Mr. Kailer is specifically listed as a primary competitive bidder on District Twelve-Eighty-Six’s auction block. At the time of the Council’s seizure of the property, he was listed as the highest bidder with no new bids expected.”

“Perfect...” Twilight grumbled as she took a steadying breath, holding her head high and approaching the two changeling units at the entryway to get her first look at the black and white-suited volus.

Her already testy mood worsened once she could hear the incensed alien’s voice for herself.

“How dare you...! Do you have any idea... who I am!?”

“Again we recommend you remain patient while administration is en route,” one of the mechs stated blankly, showing no reaction at all as it stood motionless in the squat alien’s path.

“Bah!” The volus threw his three-fingered gauntleted hand in the air as he turned, the white glowing eyes of his exosuit blinking occasionally while the red circle between them denoted the use of his speakers. “I could expect... more intelligent discourse... with a krogan!”

“Administration has arrived,” the emotionless drone said as it and its companion took note of Twilight’s approach and stepped aside. “We thank you for your patience, and hope you have a nice day.”

Seizing the opportunity, the volus all but stomped forward.

“It’s about time...!” Jex Kailer pointed a stubby finger menacingly in Twilight’s direction, his tone translating the glare that must have been hiding behind the cold material of his suit’s mask. “At least I got the clanless in charge... and not some worthless delegate...”

Twilight took a short breath, forcing a smile.

“That’s right, I’m in charge here. You can call me Twilight Sparkle,” she greeted him with forced cordiality while she tried to suppress her urge to respond to the pompous alien’s aggression with some of her own. “Welcome to New Ponyville. I understand you’re having some problems?”

“I know who you are, Clanless...!” The volus all but spit the name through his breathing apparatus. “Anybody with an extranet or... News Net connection knows... who you are...! The Council’s latest... pet project!”

Twilight’s ear flicked as she let the faux smile fall, watching the volus intently with her violet eyes as he continued to vent his spleen (or whatever it was that volus had in place of a spleen).

“I am Jex Kailer... and this is MY property! Not... New ‘whatever you are trying to call it...’” the alien stated clearly (or at least as clearly as he was able). “I am here to inform you... that you are trespassing...! And if you and your fellow clanless vermin... don’t vacate this area in six galactic standard hours... I will be taking immediate legal action...!”

Twilight’s attempt at diplomatic resolution was gone from her expression as she prepared to hold her own against the volus.

“Now listen, Mr. Jex,” she started, trying to remain civil as she countered his argument with the facts. “In case you weren’t made aware, the Council acquired this property through perfectly legal means, and has seen fit to designate it as a protected habitat for my people.”

“Nothing but legal parlor tricks...!” Jex countered. “I paid a fortune for this district...! It belongs to ME!”

“As I understand it, your credits were refunded before the bidding even ended,” Twilight dismissed his claim outright, wondering if the rotund investor was even aware of this fact. To his credit, Jex didn’t even miss a beat.

“That changes nothing, Clanless... I will have what’s rightfully mine... and if you refuse to give it to me... I assure you...” The volus stepped right up to Twilight, as a member of the only species in the galaxy that could technically “stand up” to an Equestrian. His plated face was close enough to hers that she could smell the methane leaking from behind the mask. “I will do everything in my ability... to make you regret it...”

Standing just off to her side, Forty-Two watched, contemplating what was taking place as a tense silence filled the air.

——————

Log Entry: 42 of 50 - Day 6 A.E

Assets Acquired:

+50: New Ponyville - This Tayseri Ward district is little more than a prefab shell with the potential to become a home. New Ponyville offers a place to rest and the most basic of amenities to the Equestrian Herd, as well as a base of operations for future Equestrian endeavors.

Codex Update: New Ponyville; Councilor David Anderson

Author's Note

Directive Decision
A Capital Idea

The Herd requires monetary funding in order to settle in New Ponyville. Basic necessities such as food and utilities are already covered by donations from sympathetic individuals and organizations, but any additional expenses put towards development will have to come from another outside source. There are three mutually exclusive possibilities.

Sterling’s Option - Minerva’s Trust, an established and reputable colonial finance business, has offered to loan the Equestrian Herd starting capital. This will allow immediate funds to be available and will alleviate many of the concerns of settling New Ponyville. Sterling also assures us that once the Herd stabilizes, repaying the loan should be no trouble, despite the high interest rate. However, collateral will be required to secure the loan, in the form of a dozen changeling mechs. These mechs will be removed from the current stock, deactivated, and placed in a Minerva’s Trust private storage vault until a sufficient amount of the loan can be repaid.

Applejack’s Option - True to her nature, Director Applejack has opted that we “earn our keep.” Tayseri Ward seems to have no shortage of work available with the reconstruction underway, and the unique talents of the Equestrian Herd may prove useful in this process. Director Applejack has volunteered to coordinate and facilitate this aspect of our emergent social structure under the title “Director of Labor.” As her pre-Exodus record indicates, she is certainly dependable enough to perform this task. This option, while the most predictably reliable in the long run, also means that New Ponyville will have much less starting capital to work with in the beginning.

Ditzy’s Option - Ditzy Doo, who has taken on the role of caretaker and surrogate mother for many of the Herd’s foals, has suggested that the Equestrians actively begin solicitation of donations from the public at large. While the Herd has graciously accepted such donations since its arrival at the Citadel, leading to our beginning funds, open solicitation of charity has the potential to unlock a great deal of credits early on. As holds true with the nature of charity, this money will not need to be repaid. This is only a temporary solution, however, and by no means a guaranteed source of income, which could be problematic if future prospects fail to pan out.

Choice
The Volus Investor

Jex Kailer, a volus entrepreneur, is clearly unhappy with the Council declaring imminent domain and invalidating his bid to purchase the district that is now New Ponyville. His bullying and aggressive posturing seems mirrored by known business practices involving intimidation and other ruthless tactics. His assertions of authority are clearly baseless and even after being made aware that we have been informed of the current legal situation, he continues to make claims of ownership.

The Law and the Council are clearly on our side and probability of Twilight acquiescing to Jex’s demands is 0.0001%. While there is no immediate threat from Kailer, chances are that he is still going to be a problem for us.

Running predictive model of the Madam President’s reaction.

Conciliatory: “Perhaps we can come to an agreement.”
Stoic: “We know our rights; you have no authority here.”
Retaliatory: “Your complaint is noted. Now leave.”

VOTING IS CLOSED

::Results::

A Capital Idea

——————

Director Applejack's Option: 84.6%

Sterling's Option: 12%

Ditzy's Option: 3.4%

====

The Volus Investor

——————

Conciliatory Response: 17.3%

Stoic Response: 71.9%

Retaliatory Response: 10.8%

The Madam President endorses hard work and perseverance over more easily obtained immediate benefits.

The Equestrians shall not be bullied into submission and do not lash out when threatened.

Arc 1 - Part 2: Clearing a Path

Clearing a Path

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 6 A.E.

Present location: New Ponyville Docks

Status: monitoring developing situation

M.P. Sparkle currently in “meeting” with Expanding Reaches CEO Jex Kailer

“Is that so?” Twilight Sparkle, Madam President of the Equestrian Herd, allowed her expression to fall flat, clearly unimpressed by the alien’s posturing. “Well, in that case...”

The metallic changeling drone watched as the purple mare shifted her weight, her haunches set back to the cold metal floor and tail brushing around to her side and out of the way. She pulled up her forelegs and folded them across her chest as she looked straight into the optics of Jex’s suit. Her voice was as steady as her decision.

“...no.”

The volus stepped back, haughtily raising his chin in the pony’s direction. “And just what... is that supposed to mean...?”

“It means no,” Twilight leaned forwards, her tone surprisingly even. “This district belongs to us, and I’m not about to give it over to you just because you claim it as your own. Quite frankly, I don’t recognize your authority in this matter.”

“Do I look like I care... what you recognize...!? I paid for this property...!” Jex shook his head, his outrage seeming to grow in the face of Twilight’s calm defiance. “You’re barely more than... an animal...! I don’t think you comprehend... how many credits it takes... to acquire something like that...! Do you know how long I’ve waited...!? How many other buyers I had to...”

“I’m sorry your plans didn’t work out the way you wanted,” Twilight stated before the alien could resume speaking after a long breath, although her tone and expression indicated it was a hollow apology.

“BAH!” Jex flailed his arm in the air in a dismissive manner as he proceeded to pace up and down in front of the unicorn. “Spare me your feeble platitudes...! You clanless creatures have no business... being on the Citadel...! At least the Quarians have the decency... to keep to themselves on their... grubby flotilla...! But you... You show up at the station... shamelessly posing for the cameras... and in less than a week... you think that the galaxy... owes you so much...!? Hiding behind the Council... and some ridiculous wildlife law...!? Pathetic...! You’re no… different from... the humans...! Wanting... what you… never earned...! I’ve... I’ve had...”

The volus seemed to be struggling to speak, the interruptions caused by his breathing apparatus growing more frequent even as the gasps grew shorter in length. Taking a step back, Jex Kailer hunched forwards, the red light on his faceplate blinking intermittently as he attempted to recompose himself.

Twilight remained in place, her forelegs crossed over her chest as she watched him impassively like a parent waiting out a child’s tantrum.

“Are you done?”

“You... impertinent...” Jex managed before the speaker cut out again, perhaps some sort of safeguard in the environment suit, and the ammonia-breathing volus leaned forward, hands on his hips as he struggled to catch his breath.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Twilight sighed, unfolding her forelegs and leaning forward, returning to all fours. “Mr. Kailer, I apologize if I sound insensitive, but I really don’t care what you have to say.”

The volus glared at her wordlessly, whether it was from the fact that he was still catching his breath or because he was absorbing what she said, Twilight wasn’t sure. Regardless, she pressed on.

“New Ponyville is now the property of the Equestrian Herd, which I represent. My primary concern is for the wellbeing of the ponies that are now living in this district. So you can rant and rave until your ammonia tank is exhausted, but we are staying right here. It’s just that simple.”

The alien investor glared at the mare, although she somehow doubted that the illuminated plastic lenses of his suit translated his expression adequately.

“Do you have... any idea... who you are dealing with...?” Jex seemed to be teetering on the edge of unadulterated rage, clearly unused to being so bluntly denied. “Do you know... what I could do... to you and your precious... ‘Equestrian Herd’...!?”

“I’m afraid I don’t, to be honest,” Twilight pointed out, her eyes betraying no sense of being intimidated. “But by all means, feel free to elaborate.”

Jex raised a hand, one of the claw-like fingers directed at the pony as if he wished he could smite her where she stood. He took a single, large breath, preparing to give his reply, when he unexpectedly paused, slowly turning his head to look at the shiny black mech standing just a few feet away.

The mech was standing impassively, completely motionless, yet as the volus observed, its green crystalline eyes were trained directly on him.

“Oh... I get it...” Jex’s voice was calmer now, bearing no hint of emotion save for an undercurrent of simmering distaste as he slowly lowered his arm. “Do you really think... that I’m stupid...?”

“Thus far, you have done nothing to dissuade me from the idea,” Twilight snarked at him, although she was internally cautious of the sudden change in the alien’s demeanor. It was too sudden to have been a result of him realizing that his shouting was getting him nowhere. No; this was a tactical withdrawal, which signified that he had surely taken notice of the Madam President’s trump card.

“Perhaps I misjudged you...” Jex shook his head, although his tone hardly sounded like an apology. “However... Just because the Council... gave this district to you... doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way...”

His posturing had grown less aggressive, as had his tone and the nature of his remarks. All sure signs to Twilight that the volus had realized that, as per her instructions, Forty-Two had been recording the entire encounter.

“I think it would benefit you… to find another place to settle... The Wards can be... a very dangerous place for the unwary...” Jex told Twilight with a defined degree of condescension in his tone. “As unfortunate as it is... bad things happen... to innocent beings... all the time...”

And in a tone barely low enough for her to hear, Jex delivered his last line.

“And often... when they least... expect it...”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed dangerously, a clear sign that he had struck a nerve.

“Is that a threat, Mr. Kailer?”

“Of course not, Madam President...” The volus shook his head, though the faux-saccharine nature of his response clearly indicated the opposite. “I am merely... stating a fact... I’m hardly the type... to go around threatening... endangered animals...”

“I would hope so...” Twilight scowled, taking note of how the alien all but spat out her title, before she followed it up with an ultimatum. “And just so we’re clear: If you or any of your associates ever try something like this again, I promise you will regret it.”

“I see...” Jex shrugged his squat shoulders, far from intimidated by what he determined to be a threat as baseless as his accusations. “In that case... I wish you nothing... but the best of luck... in your business...”

He then turned his back on the pony and her assistant, steadily marching back to the edge of the docks, where his transport awaited him.

“Especially considering... that you shall be having... none of mine... And the same goes... for my friends... in the banking industry... and the Ward markets... Good day to you...”

Twilight’s eyes didn’t waver as she watched Jex move up to his shuttle; a gaudily-colored transport that appeared to be specially modified for his species. The door in the side swung upwards automatically while a series of steps extended from the lower edge, allowing the short-statured volus to easily clamber inside.

As the door closed with a hiss and the shuttle’s eezo-powered engine started up, causing the vehicle to rise smoothly into the air, Twilight’s posture slumped, and she let out a heavy sigh as she closed her eyes and considered her position.

Just as she thought: Jex was nothing but a bully. More than willing to threaten and throw his weight around when he thought he had the upper hoof, but quick to change his tone at the first signs of a challenge, and the chance that he could be punished by someone with actual authority.

However, as she had to reluctantly admit, he was also cunning enough to cover his tracks. Going over what had been said in her mind (something she would surely double-check Forty-Two’s recording to make sure of) he had never made any direct implication of violence. Instead, he chose to hide behind a wall of insinuations and thinly-veiled insults when he realized the dangerous line he was walking.

She also had no doubt of his intention to make good on his last promise, but Twilight wasn’t particularly bothered by it.

He was not the sort of creature that her people needed to get wrapped up with in any way. And anyone who would so readily resort to such deplorable and underhoofed tactics to get what they wanted wouldn’t have found their business welcome in New Ponyville regardless, no matter how many credits they offered.

“You know, Twilight,” her assistant offered, his voice noticeably less mechanical and taking on the more casual nature he used when there was nobody else around. “All you had to do was say the word, and I wouldn’t have hesitated to... ‘escort’ the guy back to his shuttle. Roughly, if necessary.”

Twilight let out a huff of amusement as she watched the shuttle turn once it was clear of New Ponyville’s obstructing bulkheads and zip away, leaving a slight blue distortion trail behind it as it ascended into the traffic out towards the center of the Wards.

“Tempting, Forty-Two. But as much as I would like to have just sent him packing, we don’t need to create any more trouble than we already have.” The unicorn shook her head. “His claims were baseless and he knew it. If I had to guess, he was trying to intimidate us into giving him the district without a fight, and failing that, incite us into doing something he could turn to his advantage... I’m just glad I was able to keep my cool.”

“Maybe so... Still, the Volus are shrewd businessmen. He might’ve have been open to some sort of arrangement that didn’t involve him blacklisting us.”

“Not a chance in Tartarus.” Twilight said immediately, and with conviction. “We are not about to start capitulating to the demands of megalomaniacs and tyrants just because they raise their voice.”

“I understand. But I’m afraid of what might happen if Jex intends to make good on his threats,” the mech stated with certainty.

“Yeah, I kind of doubt this is the last we’ll see of him, but for now at least he’s a problem for another day.” Twilight lowered her head, using a hoof to rub the base of her horn. “I have enough of those on my plate right now.”

“For what it’s worth, Twi; I think you did the right thing,” Forty-Two offered, raising a hoof comfortingly to her shoulder.

“I wish I had your confidence...”

“Well, here’s something that might cheer you up.” Forty-Two tilted his head, his optic lights shifting to represent an expression approaching pride. “While you were talking, I managed to wirelessly datamine his omni-tool and gained access to his contact lists and employee rosters. The data has been transmitted to all changeling units, and now, should anyone working for Expanding Reaches or its affiliates set foot in New Ponyville, all units are ordered to... ‘escort’ them off the premises.”

Twilight turned on the mech, surprised by this admission, and getting the feeling that if Forty-Two had a mouth, he would be smirking deviously.

“Just in case,” the robotic pony added, clearly pleased with himself.

“Forty-Two...” Twilight smiled, shaking her head as she once again found herself grateful for the artificial intelligence’s aid. “I don’t know how I would do this without you.”

“Me neither.”

The blatant smugness of the declaration only served to help relax Twilight, finding herself once again reminded of just how her new assistant was so much like her old one... for all that was worth.

The Madam President then nodded curtly, intent to return to the task at hoof: getting New Ponyville situated.

“Alright, so what’s next on the agenda?” Twilight asked, feeling reassured as she turned and started back towards the entrance of the district, the mech falling into step behind her as the two other changelings that had been there the whole time resumed their task of guarding the docks.

“There would seem to be some conflicting claims between several families involving the utility layout,” Forty-Two related, masking his personality once again as he followed his mistress back into their new home. “In that regard, Miss Drops has come up with a proposal for the living arrangements that you may wish to look at...”

——————

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 9 A.E

Present location: New Ponyville, Administration Level

Status: idle

Forty-Two of Fifty stood stock still as he had for hours, his eyes dark and apparently inactive, beside the automatic doorway that led into Twilight Sparkle’s personal apartment. As much as the changeling would have preferred to be inside the apartment to keep watch over the leader of the Equestrian Herd, her insistence on privacy during the all too short periods of rest she allowed herself were both understandable and easily accommodated.

If Forty-Two had one envy of organic beings, it was the ability to sleep. The ability to completely tune out the outside world for hours at a time, free from life’s constant struggles, only to wake up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.

It was one of the few organic traits that he could not experience.

Sure, he could enter a state of hibernation; set to reactivate on a timer, audio-cue, or even voice command, but it wasn’t the same. In any case, it was a moot point. Since the meeting with Jex Kailer three solar days earlier, Forty-Two felt that anything less than constant vigilance opened up the risk of something getting past his notice. Such a scenario was simply unacceptable, as the wellbeing of his mistress was top priority.

And yet, it was times like this, when the constant barrage of demands for the Madam President’s attention mercifully abated, that Forty-Two could allow himself to devote a portion of his processes to reviewing the events of the past few days. Such reflections allowed him to keep in mind just how much weight stood on the shoulders of the mare he faithfully served.

After the first supply shipments had been received and accounted for, Twilight had issued her decision allowing Applejack to go ahead with her plan to put ponies to work, much to Sterling’s chagrin. The Treasurer of the Herd may not have been altogether pleased with the choice, but she had at least been amicable enough to offer her services to Director Applejack in maintaining the accounts of her initiative. To their credit, there was no shortage of volunteers, particularly among the Herd’s stallions, who wanted to contribute. Surely the promise of doubling food rations to those who volunteered helped, but still, it was the thought that counted.

Unfortunately, the initial returns had been… lacking.

Applejack had been trying her hardest, but the foremen of the crews throughout Tayseri Ward were being cautious. Some cited that the ponies had no previous experience that could be verified, while others were put off by the now well-circulated information that the Herd was protected by various wildlife laws. Regardless of what the ponies’ individual strengths could offer, many of those in charge of hiring were concerned that associating with the new species on the Citadel opened them up to an uncomfortable degree of liability.

The Director of Labor insisted that all that was needed was time to find someone who could appreciate their talents, but as Sterling was quick to point out in nearly every fiscal meeting with the Madam President: time was not a luxury they had in great supply.

Neither, it seemed, were credits.

Their initial funds were already dwindling as food and basic necessities were acquired, along with approved requests for raw materials or equipment needed to get a few ponies to start setting up shops. There was still a slow stream of private donations helping in that respect, but it was petering off little by little as time went on and was certainly far from reliable.

On that note, Forty-Two found himself reminiscing; datafiles long since archived to antiquity opening randomly as he remembered his formative years on the Epona Estate.

This never would have been a problem in those happier times.

All it would have taken was one sad look from either of his beloved granddaughters, and Lord President Solarius would have poured a planet’s worth of resources into helping a newly-discovered species in need.

If only...

“Dozing on the job, Forty-Two?”

The mech’s eyes immediately lit up, resuming their full illumination as he shut down all of the archived files now flittering through his digital mind and spent a few nanoseconds berating his lapse in attention. Now that he was fully aware of his surroundings, he realized that the door to Twilight’s apartment had slid open, allowing her to pass him unnoticed and situate herself right in front of him.

He couldn’t let himself fall into doing that again... especially now that he had somepony actually depending on him after so long.

“Not at all, I’m completely alert!” Forty-Two offered in a brash tone, offering no hint of the momentary internal conflict as he calculated the best way to react. “Always on guard! Ever vigilant!”

The changeling’s shoulder then slumped and he drooped his head, his eyes winking out as his speakers emitted a slight beeping sound that emulated snoring.

Such behavior might have seemed incredibly bizarre for a synthetic being, regardless of its intentions, and indeed, was not something the mech would have considered normal practice during his time of service in the Equestria Facility. Yet, ever willing to go to any length in assisting his mistress, Forty-Two found that speaking and behaving more in line with what Twilight used to expect from Spike, the virtual entity based on his own processes that served her within the system, did a great deal towards easing her into her new position.

The transparent antic had the desired effect, eliciting a soft, much-needed laugh from Twilight for a moment before Forty-Two’s eyes lit up again, looking her over and making out minute details about her appearance.

In particular, he noticed how she still looked tired in spite of an uninterrupted six hours of rest, with visible grey lines under her eyes that marred her otherwise amused expression.

“Hard night’s sleep, Twi?”

“N-no, I’m fine,” she answered quickly with a wave of her hoof. “It’s just this blasted twenty-hour solar day and the perpetual light cycle in the Wards. Even when I turn all of my own lights off, it’s like I know in the back of my mind it’s still ‘daytime’ out here.”

Forty-Two observed her mannerisms: The slight tick of an ear, the way her withers and tail twitched, a quickened heart-rate, an eagerness to explain away her condition... These things were not just the result of a few hours’ lost sleep.

The mech made a note in his list of priorities to investigate further at a later time, as the first matter on the day’s agenda was superseded by an automatic door on the far side of the building flashing green and then opening, followed by the stomping of hooves thundering across the metallic floors of the building’s foyer. The noise heralded the arrival of a very irate-looking accountant as she slid to a halt, not bothering with pleasantries before saying what was on her mind.

“Madam President!” Sterling Silver glared, her mane something of a mess as she panted slightly, probably having rushed straight there from her office in the newly-opened “Administration” building next door. “Executive authority aside, you can’t simply do what you like without consulting me first!”

“I just woke up, Sterling.” Twilight, clearly surprised by the approach, tilted her head in a bemused fashion. “I know I’m still new to this ‘Head of the Herd’ thing, but do I really need to consult you about what I decide to have for breakfast?”

Sterling seemed ready to speak up again before remembering herself, taking a deep breath and pushing her recently acquired black-rimmed glasses back up her snout.

“This is no laughing matter, Twilight,” Sterling started again in a more reasonable voice. “We can’t be throwing what few resources we have away like this!”

“What? Do you think we splurged on the alfalfa and oats?” Twilight let out an annoyed sigh, clearly having already lost whatever good humor her night’s sleep and short break with Forty-Two provided. “I told you, I know we’re tight on money but we can’t get by on just hay! I’ve already had to deal with complaints about the lack of fruits and vegetables and--”

“I’m not talking about food!” Sterling stomped a hoof. “I’m talking about the eight metric tons of technical equipment, twelve hundred kilos of Element Zero, assorted raw metallic resources, and the bulk purchase of colonial grade omni-tools that have all been delivered to the lower levels over the last two days! I just got the bill!”

Twilight recoiled, her ears folded down with a worried expression on her face. Sterling didn’t have any of those datapads she was using for record keeping with her, but even without them, her list sounded dangerously expensive on its own.

“What’s all that for?”

“...You mean to tell me that you didn’t know?” Sterling sounded suspicious, as if doubtful that this had been done without the unicorn’s knowledge. “I’ve been keeping track of every request for funding from everypony who wants to try opening up their own business interests, but somepony has been tapping directly into the Herd’s account without any approval and it has completely thrown off my budget!”

Twilight’s eyes widened in realization. Only herself and five other ponies, as well as Sterling, had direct access to the species’ financial account, and she already had a pretty good idea of who was responsible.

“Technical equipment.”

“Yes!”

“Delivered to the lower levels?”

“That’s right.”

“Care of ‘Sugar Cubed Technologies’?”

“So you do know about this!” Sterling’s glare became more accusatory as Forty-Two lowered the sensitivity of his auditory sensors just in time to avoid the oncoming outburst from the pony whose face was now flushing crimson and whose eye had begun to twitch.

“PINKIIIIIEEEEE!!!”

——————

Sugar Cubed Technologies (or, as the makeshift sign over the door read: Sugar³ Tech) was situated inside the largest of the warehouses on the lowest level of New Ponyville’s shelf-like structure. With an unassuming boxy facade that fell back into the bulkhead under the shelf right above it, the ramp leading down into the newly re-purposed “freight holding” facility could have been easily overlooked by any of the other ponies who were going about their business, sorting through the supplies that were still being distributed to the rest of the Herd.

Twilight didn’t mean to be rude as she ignored the occasional wave or calling of her name, trotting at a steady pace towards that one specific warehouse, but she had to deal with this issue immediately. With everything else going on, nopony had paused to think that the manic former party-pony of Equestria might still need supervision.

“What could that mare be thinking!?” Twilight shook her head, trying not to grit her teeth as she steeled herself.

“According to her pre-Exodus records, it may be a futile effort to apply logic to Director Pie’s actions, Madam President,” Forty-Two chirped, having reverted to his “professional” tone now that the two were out in public.

Twilight didn’t respond to this insight as the pair turned into and started down the ramp leading to the inside of the warehouse. At the bottom of the ramp was a set of double doors, in front of which a changeling mech was standing guard. In an alcove slightly off to the side was a desk that had not been there days earlier when Pinkie had toured the building with the Madam President while she petitioned her for its use.

And behind that desk sat a mare, but not just any mare, as Twilight was surprised to see that it was somepony she instantly recognized, yet hardly expected.

It certainly wasn’t Pinkie Pie, as the unicorn, clearly enthralled by the datapad held carefully in her hooves, wore a pair of purple tinted goggles over her horn, nestled between a rich blue mane which offered a contrast to her pearly white coat.

“Vinyl?” Twilight realized, having to rack her brain to remember the former disk jockey’s real name, having been introduced to her on a few occasions, but mostly knowing her by her stage name: DJ-Pon3. “Vinyl Scratch?”

Looking up with her stunning red eyes, the mare all but jumped out from behind the desk upon realizing who had arrived.

“Hey there, Boss!” The mare grinned, moving forward to wrap the stunned purple unicorn in a sudden hug. “I’m surprised to see you here! Welcome to Sugar Cubed, bee-tee-dubs!”

“Uh... thanks,” Twilight replied awkwardly as she patted Vinyl’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you too, Vinyl. But... what are you doing here?”

“Oh! Check it!” Vinyl stepped back, making a grand gesture with one hoof. “I’ve totally upgraded from lowly record spinner! Standing before you is Vinyl Scratch: Acoustic and Harmonic Engineering Specialist, and Number Two Gearhead at Sugar Cubed Technologies!”

“I... see...” Twilight nodded, attempting to maintain her pleasantness in spite of the reason she had come down here. “So, what exactly are you doing?”

“Nothing spectacular at the moment; just making sure we got all of our stock set,” Vinyl admitted, her mood quickly shifting away from enthusiasm a moment before as she rubbed the back of her head with one hoof. “Actually, I’m kinda glad you stopped by. I was starting to think I should, I dunno, talk to somepony about the head honcho ‘round here.”

“You mean... Pinkie, right?” Twilight asked, drawing a quick few nods from the former DJ. “Why? Are you worried about something?”

Vinyl gestured to the mech standing guard.

“This wing-nut bot won’t let anypony into the lab,” she explained, rolling her eyes. “‘Administrator’s orders’ it tells me. I’ve been out here managing the stuff that gets dropped off, and whenever I’m not around, that thing brings it all inside. Unless Pinks has got another exit from the lab I don’t know about, she’s been locked up in there since we got our first shipment. It’s really bizarre.”

Twilight’s brow furrowed in concern. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen or spoken to Pinkie since that first meeting. As far as she knew, Pinkie wasn’t even aware she had an apartment all to herself in the building shared by her and the other Directors. Twilight had been so busy she hadn’t even stopped to ask about her absence.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Much appreciated, Boss,” the wild-haired unicorn said with a salute of her hoof.

Twilight cringed at the new title being casually thrown out at her, but didn’t say anything as she turned to face the mech, who stared straight ahead with the unwavering intensity of a statue.

“Stand down,” she gave in her best “commanding” voice.

“Primary Administrator authority recognized,” the drone replied, side-stepping out of the way and leaving the door clear.

The doors slid open as Twilight moved past where the mech had been standing.

Two steps in, she nearly tripped over a pile of mechanical equipment, causing Forty-Two to rush forward in order to prevent her from falling into another mess of supplies that were haphazardly piled a few steps away; many of the components appearing quite sharp.

Twilight’s eyes had to adjust to the somewhat muted lighting inside what had been christened “the lab” and felt the overwhelming need to voice her immediate observation as she steadied herself.

“This place is a disaster!” The Madam President shook her head in disgust, her nose crinkling as she looked around.

Half-opened crates sat all around, some of them also being used as tables with devices and paper-thin circuit boards laying out over them. Arranged all around the floor were piles of what looked like sensitive (and likely expensive) technical equipment lumped together with chunks of stone and metallic ores.

On one set of makeshift tables were what looked like a set of hastily-constructed clockwork and gear devices that moved and churned automatically, sending sparks and electrical arcs up and around themselves at random intervals.

What method there may have been to this madness was beyond Twilight, but as she gritted her teeth, the bubbling frustration that had been mounting since Sterling had brought this to her attention finally boiled over.

“PINKIE PIE!” she shouted, moving forward and past a small wall of obstructing crates before she caught sight of a long, straight, bright pink tail swaying around in the air. The pony attached to it was currently bending over, her entire front half obscured underneath one of the improvised shelves, and the shuffling noises she was making made it obvious that she was searching for something. “What in the name of--”

“Twilight!?” the fuschia mare called out suddenly, and her body tensed up, causing her to bang her head on the table with a cringe-worthy clang. With an exclamation of pain that was quickly forgotten, Pinkie exhumed herself from the pile, pulling herself up to face the unicorn as she continued to talk at a blistering pace.

“You’re here already!? Oh, I’m not ready yet am I? Wait, I am? Perfect! Perfect timing! Did I call you? I don’t remember calling you. Oh, wait, no I didn’t! You must have known! That’s why you’re here!”

Her ears slowly lowering, Twilight’s frustration fizzled out as the heat in her chest was replaced by ice water at the sight of her friend’s disheveled state.

Her mane now lay flat against her head, as opposed to the puffed-up, out of control nature it sported in the Equestria simulation. But that wasn’t what concerned her, as this was the state of her mane and tail all the time now that they had exited the virtual world. No, there was much more to her appearance that worried the lavender unicorn at the moment.

Her eyes were wide; wider than usual, twitching intermittently with bright red lines encroaching on the irises, and the dark, puffy bags underneath them made the ones on Twilight’s seem like beauty marks. Her words were rushed, her tongue tripping over itself at a breakneck speed that was a bit too much even for the usually garrulous pony, indicating she was barely keeping track of herself. Her coat was unkempt and stained as well, making it clear that she had taken little time for her own personal upkeep.

Most disturbing of all was the wide, toothy smile that she directed at Twilight, which made her feel incredibly uneasy, and left her scrambling for an explanation as to why her friend was behaving like this.

“Pinkie, you’re a mess! When was the last time you slept?” She paused for a moment, looking the pink earth pony up and down again before continuing. “Or ate... or bathed... or even brushed your coat...? Are those burn marks!?”

“No time! Well, of course there’s time, there’s always time. Time is everywhere! Unless you bottle it... Can you bottle time?” Pinkie tilted her head to the side, looking away thoughtfully as she rubbed a hoof to her chin. “Hmm... Possibly... Maybe if we... No! Can’t start a new project now! Things to do! Gotta get this place going! Care for some coffee?”

“Coffee?” Twilight drew back, now far more worried than before. “What the hay is coffee?”

“Human beverage,” Forty-Two took the liberty to explain. “Originating on Earth, the term covers a large number of dried bean products that are used to create a uniquely flavored drink in much the same manner as tea. Due to the typically high level of caffeine, it is generally used as a stimulant.”

“Good stuff. Great stuff! The best stuff!” Pinkie nodded, reaching out for a large mug and putting it under one of the machines whose purpose had escaped Twilight. The earth pony pressed a tiny button on the top, which caused a stream of something black, steaming, and quite strong-smelling to pour out of a nozzle and into the mug. “Taste takes a little getting used to, but it works! It works so good!”

Pinkie pulled the mug from its place before the machine was even done dispensing, downing the beverage in one quick chug. She then breathed out heavily, her expression relaxing like a junkie getting her fix. “Want some?”

“What...? No!” Twilight’s eyes narrowed, having to shake her head as she remembered why she was even there in the first place. “Pinkie, please! You need to calm down! There’s something important that I need to--”

“OH, YEAH!” Pinkie dropped the mug unceremoniously to the ground before rushing over to a nearby table and sifting through the pile of debris on its surface. “You’re gonna love it! I’ve got it all set up! Just finished working the kinks out of the prototype.”

“Prototype? Pinkie what are you--”

Twilight had no time to respond as Pinkie turned and rushed at her. Her pink friend, carrying some kind of weird, tube-shaped device in each hoof, sidled uncomfortably up close and around the unicorn in the span of a second.

“Don’t move. You might feel a pinch,” she said quickly, and Twilight could feel the tip of something cold press against the base of her neck, as well as near the end of her left foreleg.

“What?”

*chink-hisssssss*

“AH!” Twilight winced as a sharp pain shot down from the back of her neck and another ran up her leg, causing her eyes to clench shut before she felt Pinkie release her. “Ouch! That hurt! Pinkie, what did you just do!?”

“Don’t worry. The medi-gel should be kicking in right... about... now.”

Almost instantly, Twilight felt the pain fade away, replaced by a dull soreness that radiated out from the spots where Pinkie had done... whatever it is she just did.

Looking at her foreleg, Twilight took note of the small discoloration on her fur that indicated a small incision that had been made right along the edge of her fetlock joint. Even now, there was almost no evidence of a wound at all, as the miraculous healing properties of the medi-gel, commonly used throughout the galaxy for a number of medicinal applications, went to work erasing the damage.

Staring at the spot, and at the two discarded metal canisters that now laid on the floor, Twilight felt a renewed wave of heat rush through her chest as the pieces fit together.

It was an implant.

“What the hay is this!? What did you just... inject me with!?” Twilight raised her hoof, her tone just shy of complete outrage.

Pinkie, to her credit, never wavered as she sat back on her haunches, bringing up her own foreleg. The unicorn couldn’t hide the baffled expression on her face as her friend’s leg lit up in a bright orange glow, encapsulated in the kind of holographic panels she had observed in use by the other aliens on the Citadel. It looked almost exactly like the device known as an omni-tool, yet conformed perfectly to Pinkie’s form, almost like a leg-warmer.

“Aaaaaand activating!” the pink pony said excitedly, as she looked up expectantly at Twilight while pointing at her with her other hoof.

The Madam President was momentarily distracted by a slight tingling at the base of her skull, before nearly jumping backwards as her own outstretched leg also spontaneously generated a series of orange panels similar to the ones on Pinkie’s.

“Congratulations, Twilight!” Pinkie nodded, grinning widely. “You are now the proud owner of the second ever omni-hoof, version one-point-two!”

“I... Wow...” was all that Twilight could say as her earlier anger was overcome by sheer curiosity. She marveled at the high-tech display, flexing and moving along with her leg as if it was a part of her own body.

“It’s a fairly basic model, but it still comes complete with a full micro-manufacturing suite and omni-gel dispenser, as well as standard personal computing software,” Pinkie explained, her tone going quickly from creepy and sleep-deprived to one of academic enthusiasm. “Kinda light on the apps right now since I still need to program them to work with the neural transmitter. But give me a couple more weeks and we should have access to most of the usual features. Good thing we evolved to make that sort of technical interaction easy or changing the interface configuration for hoof use would have been a whole different curve-ball.”

“Neural transmitter?” Twilight’s free hoof went to the back of her head, feeling the slightly-raised portion of the skin beneath her fur where the new technology now resided. Despite the implications, the sensation of the foreign object only served to reignite the anger she had felt at this very personal violation of her body. “You put something in my head!?”

“Of course not, silly! That would be dangerous.” Pinkie Pie smiled. “The transmitter's in your neck at the top of the spine.”

“That’s beside the point!” Twilight managed to draw herself away from her new tool, stomping her hoof with enough force that a few of the scattered bits and pieces of tech surrounding them shuddered where they sat. “No matter what your intentions were, you can’t just... just... do something like that without my permission!”

The withering glare Twilight shot at the other pony, accompanied by her very visible indignation, finally seemed to break through Pinkie’s off-putting behavior, and the smile slowly slid down her face. The mare’s ears drooped slightly, and she lowered her head along with her leg, which blinked out as Pinkie disabled her own gadget.

“Twilight, I... I didn’t realize that...” The pink mare’s speech slowed down for the first time during the encounter, and she sighed heavily, clearly remorseful. “I’m sorry... You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that without asking you first. I can remove it right away, if you want. It won’t take long.”

The unicorn’s next words seized in her throat upon hearing the tone of Pinkie’s voice, and she allowed her emotions to gently deflate, realizing that her friend’s actions, while poorly thought out, nonetheless came with the best intentions. She couldn’t truly stay mad at her; after all, there appeared to be been no lasting damage, and now that she thought about it, the possibilities this new “omni-hoof” presented could very well be worth it.

“Pinkie... No, you don’t need to do that...” she stated calmly, bearing no hint of the frustration she had felt before. The unicorn pressed forwards, patting Pinkie gently on the shoulder as she seemed to be on the verge of tears. “I was just surprised, is all. I really like it.”

Pinkie sniffed loudly, bringing her gaze up to look at Twilight as her face began to lighten.

“...Really?”

“Really. Why don’t you go ahead and show me what it can do?”

Staying true to her manic personality, Pinkie’s mood instantly brightened, and the sparkle returned to her otherwise bloodshot eyes as she restarted her omni-hoof and brought it up for Twilight to see, launching headfirst into the details.

Sitting at rapt attention, Twilight observed as Pinkie made her invention run through several applications without so much as touching it. Among the images that flashed across the transparent holograms, Twilight saw pictures of Pinkie taken from the awkward angle of her own hoof, along with a couple of video sequences apparently grabbed off the extranet. She even demonstrated that the omni-hoof was capable of playing sounds, as one of the videos came accompanied by a thumping bass arrangement that reverberated in the unicorn’s large ears. After displaying a number of other nifty features, she went on to explain how exactly her miraculous gadget worked.

“It’s a perfectly safe, non-magnetic, one-way implant,” Pinkie explained sagely. “The transmitter up near the brainstem translates direct thought processes into coded instructions and sends them down to the projector near the base of the hoof. I only have the most basic commands online so far, but software updates can take care of the rest. Once I get the apps designed and streamlined, we’ll be able to access them without the complicated manual interface that the original uses. Our evolution inside Equestria made it simple since our brain patterns are designed to be easily read.”

“So...” Twilight looked down at her upraised leg, still wrapped around in the glowing orange lines and surfaces. “To turn it off, I just have to think about--”

The holograms shut down at once, leaving the unicorn’s hoof looking unremarkable and plain as she carefully set it back down on the ground, as if afraid she might break it.

“Now you’re getting it! Way more convenient than how other species use it, right? You know how they hold their limb at a certain angle and it turns on? That’s why you see them all hold their arms so awkwardly to use it. There are a few apps that use neural cues, but those are mostly on top-grade military models; like for weapon systems and whatnot. But we’re Equestrians! We don’t need no stinking buttons!” Pinkie giggled, before her shoulders slumped slightly and her face drooped again. “You know what this calls for? More coffee! You have got to try this stuff, Twilight!”

Pinkie turned, but was suddenly stymied as a glowing purple aura engulfed her, gently lifting her hooves off the floor and preventing her from moving forward.

“Woooah! Okay... very funny, Twilight!” Pinkie mused for a moment before she turned in the unicorn’s biotic grip. “Couldja please put me down now? I need to get back to work.”

“Not now, Pinkie. In fact, that’s what I’m worried about,” Twilight replied, having spent enough time going over the fruits of Pinkie’s labor and turning her attention to the effect it was having on her friend. “First off, what could’ve possibly possessed you to raid our budget in order to buy all this junk?”

“You told me I was free to get anything I needed, and I need all this junk!” Pinkie shrugged her shoulders as she remained floating in midair. “None of it’s going to waste, really, so it’s not an issue, right?”

“That doesn’t mean you can abuse your privileges as Director to access our account without telling anypony!” Twilight said sternly. Then, she closed her eyes, gently releasing her pink friend from her biotic grasp while allowing herself a steadying breath through her nose. “But you’re right. It’s not the real issue at the moment. The real issue is you!”

“Me?” Pinkie tilted her head with a degree of confusion as she steadied herself on the floor. “That’s crazy-talk, Twilight! There’s nothing wrong with me; I’m fiddle as a fit! Wait... that’s not right. Donkey-horey? No, all systems at one cent per hundred!”

“Listen to yourself, Pinkie! You’re practically falling apart at the seams! You need to take a break and get out of this lab! Get some real food, take a shower, and for Celestia’s sake, get some sleep!”

“Sleep?” Pinkie seemed almost offended by the concept as her own eyes narrowed. “I’ve been sleeping my whole life! And now that I’ve found a way to really contribute to the Herd, you want me to just stop? The omni-hoof is just the beginning! We need this technology to work if we’re going to get anywhere! So what if I pulled one teensy allnighter?”

“An... allnighter?” the unicorn asked dubiously. “Pinkie, do you have any idea how long you’ve been cooped up in here?”

“Uhhh... Lemme think...” The pink pony paused, taken aback by the question. “You... left for that meeting with Miss Bossybankerpants about eleven hours ago, right?”

“It has been approximately fifty-two hours, twenty minutes, and seventeen seconds since the initial meeting with Treasurer Silver concluded,” Forty-Two spoke up helpfully from his position behind the Madam President.

Pinkie turned and squinted at Twilight’s assistant, deepening the lines under her eyes as she appeared to notice his presence for the first time.

“…Are you suuuure?” Pinkie asked the mech flatly in a disbelieving tone.

“Ugh!” Twilight set her hoof to her face, amazed that Pinkie could have lost track of time in such a manner. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I appreciate your dedication, Pinkie. You’re an absolutely vital asset to the Herd right now and we all know it, but you won’t do anypony any good if you run yourself into the ground like this! This place is in shambles! I don’t even know how you’re getting anything done in your condition, and don’t get me started on how much it’s costing us with you ordering all of this equipment, especially since it’s all just lying on the floor!”

“I can’t help it!” the party mare blurted out suddenly, and her legs began to buckle as she burned through the last of the coffee in her system. “I was so excited to get the omni-hoof project underway, then I got a new idea and I needed new materials to work on that... then another idea needed to be hammered out, so--”

Twilight reached up a hoof, setting it against Pinkie’s lips and silencing her as she sighed.

She knew this pattern all too well; one that she herself could admit to having fallen into during her various studies. A question about an obscure reference led from one book to another... then another... then another, as the younger filly Twilight would eagerly devour tome after tome until the moon had long set and the sun had risen again.

“It’s obvious what the problem is...” the Madam President said, shaking her head slowly. “You’re just one pony; you can’t do everything by yourself. Find some assistants and work out a plan. I can tell Vinyl’s only too willing to help, and I’m sure there are other technically-adept ponies you can ask. Then, you need to prioritize. Pick one... one project, and stick with it.”

“But--”

“No buts! Now, you have all of this equipment and we can’t exactly send it back, so what were you doing with it?”

“Research and development, what else?” Pinkie shrugged, unable to stop a huge yawn that escaped her muzzle. “We need our own tech to make it easier to deal with the rest of the galaxy, as well as something we can sell to the other species for a profit. But I was also wanting to see if I can tinker around with the Changelings a little... But then again... I just...”

Pinkie yawned again, her eyes growing half-lidded as her body and mind were clearly giving up the fight against the inevitable.

“Okay, Pinkie: Here’s what we’re going to do,” Twilight nodded, her eyes closed as her tone booked no argument. “You are going to get some sleep. After you wake up, take a shower and make yourself presentable. When you’re done with that, you, Vinyl and I will have a meeting over breakfast tomorrow and we can narrow down our options.”

“Madam President,” Forty-Two interrupted, but he was unheard by the unicorn as she continued.

“You’re one of my best friends, and I’m not about to let you drive yourself crazy over something like this just because you can. What we’re doing here is too important to just--”

“Twilight!” Forty-Two spoke up again, more sternly, drawing the unicorn’s eyes for a moment before nodding at the pony lying on the ground at her hooves.

Pinkie Pie’s eyes were screwed shut, her body curled up tightly as her chest rose and fell at a steady, slow rhythm. Her unicorn friend let out a sigh, her worried heart put at ease by the sight of the hyperactive mare actually sleeping soundly, while only occasionally mumbling to herself in her dreams. As quietly as she could, the unicorn turned and gingerly navigated her way back to the laboratory entrance, careful not to knock over any loose equipment.

As Pinkamina Diane Pie, Director of Technology, slept, Twilight left her in the capable hooves of Vinyl Scratch, relating to her their plan of action and reassigning Pinkie’s mech to follow the more levelheaded unicorn’s instructions. The first of which was to fetch the Director a blanket and to make sure nopony disturbed her for at least a full twelve hours while the Madam President carried on with her own duties.

The second of which was to find an appropriate place to “dispose” of Pinkie’s coffee machine.

Before they left, Forty-Two took a moment to enter a new log.

Sugar³ Tech meeting scheduled. Division assets frozen pending proposals for the laboratory’s first priority.

*Updating Codex*

*Director Pinkie Pie: updated*
*Sugar³ Technologies: updated*
*Omni-hoof: updated*

——————

Several hours had passed since Twilight and Forty-Two had left Pinkie Pie in Vinyl’s care back at Sugar Cubed, and to the Madam President’s delight, for once, things seemed to be running smoothly as ponies were finally getting their own affairs in order.

She had even managed to get through lunch without interruption by some crisis or concern that needed mediation, allowing Twilight some peace and quiet to familiarize herself with her new omni-hoof’s functions over a humble meal of vegetable broth with a side of oats.

“Madam President,” Forty-Two suddenly spoke up with an air of hesitation.

Well, she almost made it through lunch.

“What is it, Forty-Two?”

“Was Director Dash given approval to bar entry of alien civilians from New Ponyville?”

“...Noooo,” Twilight drew out the word, dreading the answer to the next logical query. “Why?”

“Because Changeling Unit Twelve of Twenty is reporting that Director Dash is currently barring entry of alien civilians from New Ponyville.”

“Unngghhh...” Twilight allowed herself a soft moan as her work beckoned, leaving her half-full bowl of oats behind.

——————

“Rainbow... what do you think you’re doing?”

Twilight and her assistant approached the prismatically-maned mare a short time later, shaking her head and amazed by the intensity with which her pegasus friend was glaring at the elevator that connected New Ponyville with the neighboring District 1285. This was in spite of the two mechs already having taken up position at either side of the door.

“Standing guard!” Rainbow Dash answered, her demeanor stern. “Ever since AJ started heading out into the other districts looking for work for everypony, we’ve had multiple attempted security breaches!”

Twilight blinked once.

“Security breaches?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah! There were these shady-looking humans that were trying to get in this morning just to
‘see what was going on.’ Likely story! And then there were a bunch of alien kids at the other elevator standing around and gawking at us like we were some kind of sideshow!”

Rainbow shook her head with a disgusted huff.

“One of them had the nerve to ask if they could ride me! I mean, come on! This isn’t a petting zoo, and I’m not an amusement park ride! Sheesh!”

“Aaaaaand...” Twilight gave her friend a worried look, trying to figure out why she was trying to sound like Commander Hurricane from the old Equestrian Hearth’s Warming stories. “...this is what you’ve been doing with your time?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Rainbow Dash shot back at the unicorn testily. “I’m trying to keep potential threats out of New Ponyville, Twilight!”

The pegasus huffed aggressively, clearly taking offense to the insinuation that her valiant efforts were being wasted.

“We have to protect what’s ours! Isn’t that why you made me Director of Defense?”

“Oh, for the love of...” Twilight shook her head, feeling a headache coming on as she set a hoof to one temple. “Defending the Herd doesn’t mean literally defending the gates, Dash! We aren’t living in a bubble here, and just because somepony isn't one of us doesn’t mean they should be turned away outright!”

“I’m just trying to keep us safe! I heard about what happened with that Jex guy!” Rainbow threw a hoof up as she turned back towards the unicorn. “We have to be ready for anything! Who knows what that gasbag might be planning?” Rainbow’s voice dropped, causing her to shake her head. “This is supposed to be our home now, Twilight. What good is it if we can’t protect it from aliens?”

“Rainbow, we are living on a space station. An alien space station. We are literally surrounded by aliens!” Twilight pointed out. “Said aliens are not our enemies here, and in case you didn’t realize, we need to generate an economy!”

“What does that have to do with anything?” the blue mare asked, clearly not understanding the connection.

“Think, Rainbow! Why do you think we’re putting so much effort into starting up local industries? It’s not for us, it’s for visitors! If we don’t have any hoof traffic through the district, then we’re not going to get any business!” the Madam President lectured for a moment, lamenting the fact that apparently she needed to impress the situation into her friend’s thick skull. “No visitors means no credits. No credits means we can’t provide for ourselves.”

“I thought going out to make money was Applejack’s job.”

“To generate capital, Dash!” Twilight shook her head, attempting to point out the basics of economics for her friend. “She’s trying to get us enough to get started! The goal of her efforts isn’t to generate profit, it’s to help set up an open market so that we can actually afford to feed and equip ourselves.”

“Oh yeah, because an open market will be sooo helpful. Especially when the Reapers come knocking down our door. Or did you forget about those--”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight raised her voice in a manner that immediately set the speed-demon pegasus back a step.

There was a moment of tense silence between the two as violet and magenta eyes held one another in a lock. Much to Rainbow’s surprise, she found herself drawing back and away from the former scholar’s hardened expression.

“Don’t you dare think for a second that I’ve forgotten about that,” Twilight stated through clenched teeth, her tone sharply edged. A barely perceptible shiver ran across the length of her body as she was reminded of just what was at stake. “But our priority for now should be securing our future in the galaxy. Then we can start preparing for--”

*Ding*

The elevator a short distance away emitted a cheerful chime as the green holographic symbols in the center blinked once before fading out, indicating that the elevator had just finished ferrying its occupant from the neighboring district, which sat lower on the Ward arm. Taking both pony’s attention as the door opened, an alien form exited with two steps of his long, backwards-jointed legs.

Towering over the gathered changeling mechs and nearby ponies was a turian; the first that Twilight had seen since the pilot she had met days earlier. This was also the first one that the Madam President had ever seen without some sort of armor, instead clad in a simple blue outfit with white stripes running horizontally down either arm. His angular, predatory face, which was really the only part of his body actually exposed due to the gloves and leggings of his outfit, was a ruddy brown color that immediately reminded Twilight of tree bark, marked by several bright red stripes that were painted down the sides of his face in an odd geometric pattern. Strapped over one shoulder was what looked like a heavily-packed duffel bag, his other clawed hand holding a metallic case that was stamped with a blue symbol that neither Rainbow or Twilight had ever seen before.

Much to the Director of Defense’s surprise, neither of the changeling mechs moved into his path or challenged him as the turian stepped out of the elevator and onto the floor of New Ponyville.

“Oh jeez, not another one!” Rainbow huffed, a very slight cyan aura wrapping around her body as she levitated from the ground and zipped forward in front of the turian. “Hold up! What do you think you’re doing?”

The turian tilted his head as he looked over the pony that was now at eye level with him, his expression impossible to read by the two Equestrians.

“Excuse me?” the turian uttered, put off by the obstruction as he shifted slightly, setting down the metal case.

“Rainbow!” Twilight chastised, her tone drawing an agitated snort from the pegasus, who rounded about in midair to face the Madam President. “Forget what he’s doing! What are you doing?”

“Look at him, Twi! He’s pretty much packed up and ready to move in! Next thing you know we’ll have some nutjob waltzing in here with a...”

Twilight’s eyes widened suddenly, drawing back half a step with a gasp as a fearful expression ran over her face that not even Rainbow could have missed.

Eyes glued to the corner of her vision, the pegasus angled her wings to slowly turn back towards the turian.

And found herself staring down a device composed of cold black metal and grey plastic, held up by the biped at arm’s length. The design was as organic and alien as the creature that was holding it, but there could be no doubt: Rainbow was staring down the barrel of a pistol.

"...gun," the pegasus uttered.

There was a tense silence in the air for a few moments as nothing and nobody moved.

Rainbow, her wings flapping noiselessly to keep her body stabilized and upright, didn’t even flinch, narrowing her eyes and looking her would-be assassin directly in his own.

“If you pull that trigger, you’d better hope it does the job...” the pegasus growled, a dangerous edge in her voice. “Because if my friends don’t take you down, I will.”

The turian held her gaze for a moment more, his mandibles moving reflexively, before he blinked, and followed it up with a throaty chuckle.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the alien spoke in the strange, reverberating tone indicative of his species, while he shook his head, clearly amused. “The ponies have some steel in their spines.”

“You’re half right. It’s Element Zero,” Rainbow remarked calmly, while never once taking her eyes off of the turian or his weapon. “Uh... Twi? Feel free to jump in at any time.”

“You’re safe, Rainbow,” Twilight assured her friend, although the scowl on her face that was now directed towards the turian indicated she was far from pleased with the situation. “There’s no thermal clip in that gun. He couldn’t fire it if he wanted to.”

“Observant too,” the alien remarked, lowering the weapon as he took a more relaxed stance. “Good to know.”

Rainbow Dash was up in the turian’s face almost the instant that he had lowered the weapon, nearly snout to nose as she fought off the urge to do something which would result in him needing medical attention.

“WHO THE HAY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, COMING IN HERE AND WAVING A GUN AROUND!?” she shouted, although the target of her anger still wore a placid expression even in the face of her words. “IS THAT HOW YOU SAY ‘HELLO’ IN TURIAN!?”

“As a matter of fact, it is,” the alien stated stoically, a calm admission that caught Rainbow by surprise as he collapsed the pistol and set it into a hidden holster at his hip. “At least that’s how I was raised. You can learn a great deal about any sentient creature by gauging its reaction to sudden and imminent danger. It’s how I get to know people.”

The stranger’s left arm drew back to his side, causing Rainbow to rear back in preparation to dive forward and plant her hooves in his chest, before she realized his three-fingered hand was wrapped around a small case.

“As for who ‘the hay’ I think I am, as you so eloquently put it...” The turian opened the case, revealing a shining silver badge in the shape of the now-familiar icon of Citadel Security. “Lieutenant Taxar Pyres. C-Sec Enforcement Division. I’m Twelve-Eighty-Six’s new station officer.”

Rainbow’s wings stopped beating at the introduction, and the realization of who she was dealing with caused her to plant herself on her hooves.

“And who might you be?” the turian continued.

“Rainbow Dash,” the pegasus nodded, a small grin forming at the corner of her mouth. “Director of Defense of the Equestrian Herd; your new boss.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Director, but that’s not how this works.” Pyres shook his head, keeping his tone level and professional. “I’m a liaison officer. I’m supposed to work with you on security matters, not for you.”

“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, Lt. Pyres,” Twilight stated, her tone icy.

“Technically, I’m off duty today. I decided it was probably best to go ahead and bring my gear over before things became official,” Pyres explained with a bored expression. “Just direct me to my security station and I’ll get settled.”

“Of course...” Twilight turned to her friend, who was still clearly fuming over the turian’s introduction. “Rainbow, there are some things I need to discuss with Lt. Pyres. Could you let the other Directors know that he’s arrived?”

“One of the changelings can relay the message.” The pegasus waved a hoof dismissively as she kept her eyes trained on the turian. “I, on the other hoof, have a few more questions for Mister Sensitive over here.”

“Rainbow!” Twilight’s voice became edged again, which did draw her friend’s attention, the change in the blustering winged pony’s demeanor obvious to the C-Sec officer.

“But--”

“I need to speak with the Lieutenant... privately.”

The two ponies were quiet for a few seconds before the blue furred mare nodded, reaching up to run her hoof down the back of her head.

“Okay, Twi. Just... let me know if you need me.”

“I will,” the unicorn nodded as her friend propelled herself forward, sailing easily through the air and towards the upper levels while leaving a short wake of transparent cyan-colored energy behind her.

“And here I thought that was just special effects...” Pyres shrugged, before nodding. “Well, Madam President Sparkle. It’s good to--”

“Don’t you ever...” the unicorn glared, her voice a few degrees short of scalding and her teeth bared as she dug into the deck below them aggressively. “...do anything like that again!”

“A minor cultural faux-pas. Hardly worth getting upset over--”

“That’s manure and we both know it!” Twilight continued, her voice edged in outrage. “There is no such philosophy or cultural basis anywhere in Turian society that suggests pulling a weapon on a being you’ve just met is in any way a good idea!”

“And I suppose you’re an expert on Turian culture?” Lt. Pyres asked, and if he had any eyebrows, Twilight was certain one of them would be raised.

“As a matter of fact... I am!” the Madam President declared with confidence.

“Then I think I’ll go ahead and take off the kid gloves.” Pyres shifted his shoulders, setting his duffel bag on the deck. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m not exactly thrilled to be here. I’m here because I was the one put in charge of this district’s security.”

Crossing his arms, he continued.

“I’m here because some paper pushing desk jockey up on the Presidium doesn’t particularly care for my attitude, or my methods, even though I get results. This...” Pyres cast an arm out, motioning towards the rest of New Ponyville. “...is supposed to be my ‘punishment.’ So, here I am: The laughingstock of my entire division, playing with the colorful Equestrians while other officers are busy actually stopping criminals.”

Pyres leaned forwards, making his point by jabbing a finger in Twilight’s direction.

“But I still have my pride, so while I’m here, I’m gonna do my damn job, and I’m gonna do it well. I’ve worked ten years in the Wards, and I’ve won out in situations that would make your feisty blue friend soil her fur, so I’m more than qualified. But doing my job and liking it are two entirely different things, and there’s nothing in the regs that says I have to be friendly with the local conclave. If you don’t like it, by all means, call for a replacement.”

Satisfied that he had driven his point home, the turian resumed his relaxed posture.

“Get where I’m coming from?”

“Oh, I get where you’re coming from, Lieutenant,” Twilight nodded, her tone flat.

“Good.”

Twilight pushed herself up onto two legs, bringing her eyes nearly level with the turian and eliminating his need to look down on her.

Her expression was far from relenting.

“Now here’s where I’m coming from,” she declared sternly. “What you see here in this district is all that’s left my entire race. Two hundred and ninety-seven ponies who, until recently, had safe, happy lives, and a home to call their own. Now that’s gone, and all we have left is this space, and each other. And I don’t care if that’s something you find childish, Lieutenant. Because let me make one thing perfectly clear to you...”

Twilight bore down on the turian, who, as a credit to his discipline, neither flinched away or made some chiding comment while the unicorn vented a week’s worth of frustration at him.

“My people are not a joke, and this is not a foalsitting assignment!” Twilight glowered. “Whatever your impression of us may be, I want you to understand right now that I am not going to tolerate some gun-toting hard-case of a guard who thinks he’s a laughingstock because he’s forced to be around us! And I am certainly not going to allow you to degrade, disrespect, and humiliate my friends for your own amusement because you think we require kid gloves!”

“Madam President...” the changeling standing behind the unicorn spoke up, making its presence known and causing Twilight to catch herself as she realized that her horn had flared into a brilliant purple, motes of dark energy swirling around its base.

Taking a deep breath and dismissing the biotic energy before it could build enough to release, Twilight kept her eyes on the turian, who continued to watch her impassively as she continued on, ignoring the aching sensation her two-legged stance was producing.

“This Herd and everypony in it is precious to me, and I won’t hesitate to defend them from anything and anyone that would dare to threaten them. And just for your information: That little stunt you just pulled a few minutes ago? If I hadn’t been told you were coming and these mechs hadn’t been informed of your authority in this matter... you would be a corpse right now.”

Pyres’s eyes flickered for the first time... just for a moment to either side... towards the jet black mechs that were still standing impassively at his left and right. His expression remained unreadable.

“That’s where I’m coming from.”

Twilight, unable to hold her position any longer, fell back to all fours, although seriously disliking the fact that she had to crane her neck to look up at the turian again.

“Am I understood, Lieutenant?”

The two stared at one another for a moment longer before the alien answered.

“And my security station would be...?”

Twilight’s scowl intensified, but after several seconds with no confirmation forthcoming, she chose to end the confrontation now, before she did something she would regret.

“Top level. Building has a C-Sec insignia. I think you know it.”

The turian nodded, reaching down to retrieve his case and duffel bag.

“I won’t even bother unpacking,” he said simply in a monotone voice before moving past the unicorn.

“Twelve of Twenty, Nineteen of Thirty,” Twilight spoke up suddenly when he had managed to put a few paces between them. “Escort Lt. Pyres to his security station.”

“I don’t require an escort.” Pyres glowered as the two mechs from in front of the door moved to action, immediately placing themselves in flanking positions of the turian.

“It’s not a request.”

The turian’s mandibles clicked slightly before he let off a gruff sigh, apparently deciding not to argue with it as the two mechs remained in step with the turian.

Once he was out of sight and out of earshot, the Madam President let out a grating sound that was part groan, part scream of frustration which Forty-Two found he could not identify.

“The NERVE! Pointing a gun in Rainbow’s face and then trying to wave it off as a cultural misunderstanding!? Does he think we’re idiots!?”

“Apparently,” the A.I. answered.

“Forty-Two!” Twilight turned on her mech with a distasteful expression.

“You asked, I merely answered.” The mech shrugged, now speaking freely as the two were now alone.

“Why didn’t the changelings respond to the threat!?” Twilight demanded, trying to make sense of what she had explained away to the turian as a result of the mechs being informed of his arrival, which she now only considered part of the answer.

“The C-Sec Series M-7 Paladin is a standard thermal clip weapon. Without the clip in place, Director Dash was never in any real danger and thus retaliation protocols were never triggered.”

“It’s not that she wasn’t in danger, that’s not the point! He aimed a weapon at my friend! And he did it out of sport!” Twilight fumed, taking exactly one second to come to a definite conclusion. “Forty-Two, take a message and send it to whoever the hay is in charge of this region! I am not about to trust the protection of our home to that... that...”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Twilight.”

“Why not!?” The unicorn rounded on the mech, who hadn’t so much as raised his voice at all.

“You’re upset. Executive decisions of this nature should never be made while you are this emotional.”

“And you have the authority to prevent me from making a decision?”

“Given your current state, yes,” Forty-Two nodded. “As your Number One Assistant, it’s just another one of my responsibilities.”

“And do you think there’s some reason we should keep him around?”

“I’ll prepare an executive packet for your review tomorrow after you have had some time to calm down,” Forty-Two stated, neither answering Twilight’s query or relenting in his assertion. “At which time, you will be better able to make a more level-headed choice.”

Files relating to C-Sec Lieutenant Taxar Pyres, and all associated documentation, compiled for further review.

Addendum: Gauge Madam President’s emotional state before revisiting the issue to ensure fair consideration of given options.

*Updating Codex*

*Director Rainbow Dash: updated*

——————

Twilight’s foul mood following her introduction to New Ponyville’s C-Sec representative was not quickly forgotten. And several hours later, after a particularly tense standoff with the self-declared “Director of Culture” over the frivolity of her proposed “investment opportunity” ended with Rarity refusing to speak with the Madam President until she eventually came around, Forty-Two decided it would be prudent to cancel the rest of Twilight’s scheduled appointments for the next solar day.

“I don’t recall telling you that you could do that,” Twilight snapped slightly towards her assistant as she prodded the pile of bland, colorless sprouts that made up her dinner.

“Part of my function is to take initiative in regards to your well-being, Madam President,” Forty-Two offered evenly. “And your current emotional state is counterproductive to your ability to effectively offer mediation or administrative direction.”

“So you’re going to force me to take a break whenever I get upset?”

“No, but I’m going to attempt to ensure you follow your own advice to Director Pie, Twilight.” The changeling nodded. “You should get some rest. Even if you don’t sleep, perhaps you should spend time familiarizing yourself with the omni-hoof. Or if you prefer, I can find some reading material for you. There’s no limit of fictional works by human, turian, and asari authors. Although it seems the Elcor, Salarians, and Hanar have very little to offer in that respect.”

Twilight huffed with a bit of amusement, shaking her head as the mech continued.

“Also, as I understand it, your omni-hoof should have access to the extranet. There are several classic human vids that seem to have been inspirations for various Equestrian novels that could be downloaded. Or, you could--”

The mech dropped off suddenly, the lights on his antenna-like ears flashing.

“I could... what, Forty-Two?” Twilight asked. “Come on, those were starting to sound pretty promising.”

“Unscheduled shuttle is arriving at the New Ponyville Docks. Seventeen of Twenty is observing.”

“Ugh!” Twilight laid her head down on the observation level table that had become her usual place to eat. “Please tell me it’s not Kailer. I am so not in the mood to put up with him again”

“It is not Jex Kailer,” Forty-Two informed her.

“Now tell me that you’re not just saying that because I asked you to say that.”

“I am not just saying that because--”

“Forty-Two!” Twilight snapped, lifting her head with a huff and clearly not amused by the mech’s attempted humor this time. “Who is it already?”

“Vehicle matches the profile of a Citadel News Net dispatch shuttle. Driver identified as Emily Wong.”

At this, Twilight perked slightly.

“Miss Wong? The reporter that interviewed Pinkie? The one that knows Shepard?”

“Affirmative. Stand by, she is approaching Seventeen of Twenty. Opening direct audio feed.”

The light in the changeling’s green eyes shifted into a single horizontal line again, as Twilight has observed several days earlier, and Forty-Two emitted a burst of static that always occurred when he synced his own output to another of his fellow mechs.

“Hello?” the familiar human woman’s voice came over mech’s speakers, the lines across his eyes spiking in a manner to illustrate the received audio data. “I’m sorry, can you help me? I’m Emily Wong: Citadel News Net. I’m trying to get in contact with a representative of the Equestrian Herd. It’s urgent.”

“Please state the nature of your emergency,” came the response of the non-sapient changeling drone.

“Oh, no! I’m sorry, it’s not an emergency, I just don’t have a lot of time and I didn’t really have any other way to contact them.”

“Administration is being informed of your request. Please stand by,” the drone responded.

“Thanks! I’ll just wait over by my shuttle, then.”

Twilight found herself torn as she listened. Honestly, she wasn’t really feeling up for a face to face meeting, but on the other hoof she also didn’t feel like it was right to ignore the woman who had helped introduce her people to the general public.

“Forty-Two, can she hear me?” the Madam President asked curiously, unsure as to the extent of the connection that her own assistant shared with the less advanced changelings.

“If required, I can form a two-way audio-link with little difficulty,” the changeling nodded, his eyes shifting back to their usual glow as he spoke with his own voice.

“Okay, do it.”

Forty-Two nodded before emitting another burst of static and speaking up, his voice taking on a strangely reverberant quality as if speaking in duet with the more clipped prerecorded vocal option of the standard drone.

“Dual audio-link established.”

She was already quite familiar with the concept of comms and direct communication over distances; something that was taken for granted by the citizens of the galaxy. But this was still something of a novelty to her as she had grown up in a far less technologically advanced environment.

Actually, now that she thought about it, this wasn’t too different from one of Spike’s primary functions back in Equestria, sending messages directly to her one-time mentor.

She shook off that feeling of nostalgia however, realizing she had to focus on the task at hoof.

“Hello?” Twilight tried, testing out this new function.

“Huh?” Emily sounded surprised at first, but quickly realized what was happening as she suddenly spoke up. “Oh! Yes, hello. My name is Emily Wong, I was trying to get in touch with somebody... oh... would that be, somepony in the Herd’s Administration?”

“Well, Miss Wong, you won’t have any trouble there.” The unicorn allowed herself a slight smirk. “This is Twilight Sparkle. What can I do for you today?”

“Oh, Madam President... I didn’t realize I was getting sent straight to the top,” Emily sounded surprised, but quickly shook it off. “I wish I could say that I was here on a social visit, but there are some things I thought you should be made aware of and I didn’t have any other way of contacting you except to come out here myself.”

Twilight set her forehooves together, trying to steel herself for whatever the investigative reporter might be talking about.

“What seems to be the problem, Miss Wong?”

“Well, as I’m sure you know, News Net and a few other media outlets have been carrying footage of the Herd’s arrival, my interview with Miss Pie, your Council sessions, and some analysis point-counterpoint debates involving the Herd, all of which have been the highlight of the last few news cycles.”

“I was aware we had made the local news, but I didn’t think that it was still that big of a deal. I mean, it’s been over a week since we arrived.” Twilight shrugged, although she wasn’t sure why as the human couldn’t exactly see her. In fact, Twilight found herself musing about how awkward it might have been for Emily to be speaking with the mech that was emitting her voice. “I kind of figured we would have been bumped off the presses by something more interesting by now.”

“Local news?” the reporter said with a laugh. “Well, I understand that you’ve probably been busy, Madam President. But to put it mildly: The Equestrian Herd story is running through Council Space like wildfire. Ratings and viewership are the highest they’ve been since the Battle of the Citadel, and the extranet is all but overflowing with commentary on the subject. There’s talk that my interview with Pinkie may be put in for this year’s Meteoria Media Award. ”

Twilight was taken back for a moment, having hardly realized that the arrival of her people on the Citadel could have caused such an impact on a galaxy of trillions. She had hardly expected them to be noticed at all beyond the Citadel’s local audience, let alone become a galaxy-wide sensation. Although in retrospect, perhaps that explained the flow of charity donations that was still coming in, even though they had made no attempt to capitalize on it.

“Oh... Uh... Congratulations?” Twilight offered, unsure what else to say before she decided simply to voice that fact. “I’m still not sure I understand why you felt the need to come up here to New Ponyville though.”

“Oh, that’s right! I’m here because, quite simply, the people want more!” Emily explained, her smile coming across clearly in her tone. “You’re big news, Twilight Sparkle. And my producer and I think it would be a great opportunity for us to indulge our audience’s desires.”

Twilight leaned back in her seat, taking a moment to consider the human’s proposal.

On the one hoof, they were still getting settled, and as Rainbow had put it earlier that day, they were not there for the rest of the galaxy to gawk at. She appreciated that Emily had the courtesy to ask permission rather than just rush in with a camera drone to get whatever footage she could for as long as she could get away with it, but at the same time, it might be in the Herd’s best interests to simply turn her away for the time being or at least reschedule for a later date.

On the other hoof... Emily made a good point. After Pinkie’s interview, the interest generated resulted in the Council’s agreeing to meet with her after they had originally refused. Without that extra boost of public awareness, she might have never been able to argue the Herd’s case or gotten consideration enough to get so much as a building to call their own, let alone an entire Ward district. And besides, free press might also help bring that hoof-traffic that she had been so animatedly telling Rainbow that New Ponyville needed.

“What did you have in mind, Miss Wong?”

“A raw look at the Equestria Herd,” Emily continued, clearly pleased to hear that the unicorn was considering her proposal. “My producer and news editor are just waiting for your approval and I can perform on-the-spot interviews with the everyday Equestrian. Give the general galactic public an idea of what your citizenry is like up close and live so that our viewers know nothing is being hidden.”

Live?

As in unscripted? Unrehearsed? With no time for editing or correction?

The concept took a moment to sink in as Twilight considered the implications. Asking questions among the average, random members of the Herd?

On one hoof, that might not be so bad.

On the other hoof, it could be utterly disastrous.

Twilight knew all too well that their position on the Citadel was precarious at best and, above all, dependent on the goodwill of at least a majority of the Council. And part of that goodwill was maintained by an agreement she had made to keep quiet about... certain subjects. In particular, it was known that her people had been rescued from a long period of suspended animation after their civilization was decimated some untold number of years ago by an as-yet unmentioned disaster.

But beyond that, any mention of the words “Reaper,” “Equestria Facility,” or “thirty-six million years” had been purposefully kept under wraps to prevent unnecessary issues.

An unwitting slip of the tongue or an unexpected answer could cause any number of problems.

“I’m... not entirely sure that’s a good idea,” Twilight offered. “I mean, my people are still getting settled and... I mean, if you wanted to do an exclusive, I am sure I could oblige.”

“I appreciate the offer, Madam President, but that really wasn’t what my news editor was aiming for.” Emily’s voice sounded a bit put off, but still understanding. “You’re probably the best-known Equestrian in the eyes of the galaxy and an interview with you would probably be seen as something of a governmental address, I’m sure. What we were hoping to get is some time on camera with other members of the Herd.”

“How about a compromise?” Twilight spoke up, an idea striking her suddenly. “I can get in touch with a few of the other members of the Equestrian Board of Directors for a series of live interviews.”

“You mean like Pinkie?” Emily sounded as if she was taking this counteroffer into serious consideration. “That... might just work out. Are they all quite so... lively?”

“Well, no... Pinkie Pie is one of a kind, but I assure you they are all characters in their own rights.” Twilight found herself smiling, thinking about how viewers might react to Rainbow’s outrageous brashness, Fluttershy’s demure softness, Rarity’s cultured tone or Applejack’s farm-raised charm. “I’m afraid that Director Pie is... indisposed at the moment, but the others would likely be more than happy to answer your questions.”

“I think I’d be up for that, though it’ll take some convincing to have my bosses see it your way,” Emily’s repeated her stance. “But really, in the end, it’s your call, Madam President. The last thing I want to do is cause trouble for you.”

Twilight leaned forward, her forelegs on the table as her gaze dropped, considering her options in the matter carefully while the changeling acting as a mouthpiece for both sides of the conversation watched silently, his own voice set aside as he contemplated his mistress’ next words.

——————

Log Entry: 42 of 50 - Day 9 A.E

Assets Acquired:

-10: New Ponyville - The sudden refusal of services and business relations from several volus and turian firms have put a damper on initial attempts to set up Equestrian industries. Given that this is likely due to the influence of Jex Kailer among his business associates, it may be for the best. Other venues are being assessed, but this still has a clear negative impact on New Ponyville's stability.

+10: Sugar³ Technologies - Operated by Director Pie, Sugar³ is a firm that specializes in both development of new Equestrian tech and the rediscovery of ancient Equine artifice.

Update - The omni-hoof ver. 1.2 has been developed by Director Pie in the opening days of New Ponyville’s settlement. The omni-hoof is a modified version of a standard omni-tool designed specifically for Equestrian physiology. Its functions are currently basic.

Codex Update: Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Omni-hoof, Sugar³ Technologies

Author's Note

Directive Decision
In the Name of Science

After recovering from working herself to a point beyond any organic definition of exhaustion, Director Pinkie Pie is set to attend a meeting with the Madam President to discuss and plan the future of Sugar³ Tech. After gathering research and accepting input from both the Director of Technology and her second in command; Vinyl Scratch, the Madam President has been able to narrow down their options to three possible avenues of development.

Option A: Develop Equestrian Tech - As Pinkie has shown with the development of the first omni-hoof, the Equestrians have not lost their gift for designing new and innovative technologies of their own. Director Pie has several projects in the works that will certainly benefit the Herd in order to “level the playing field,” so to speak. Along with focusing on upgrades to the omni-hoof, this direction would also likely lead to improvements in our people’s personal productivity and protection as well as advances in various galactic fields.

Unfortunately, this would also prevent us from capitalizing on Pinkie’s inventions as the specific tailoring of this research to Equestrians would present a barrier to selling it to other species.

Option B: Develop an Arsenal - Vinyl Scratch may have once been a humble (and somewhat loud) DJ, but despite her upbeat personality, she clearly has not forgotten the events that occurred before being released from Equestria. Vinyl has been adamant in her assertions that the Herd would be best served preparing for the storm to come by developing less-specialized equipment that could be shared with the other races.

Creating new forms of armaments, mods, and supporting technology could easily become a lucrative option as there is always a market for such things. However, while such a pursuit is not strictly speaking “illegal” so long as we follow Citadel conventions and procedures, it could certainly paint the Herd in a poor light.

Option C: Develop Equine Artifice - Aside from the omni-hoof prototype, the only technology the Equestrians truly “own” would be my fellow Changeling Class drones. While currently limited in scope and function, they are nonetheless the last remaining pieces of original Equine technology available, and their value can’t be overstated. While I have chosen to remain impartial in the matter, it has been mentioned that upgrades to our stock of drones would undoubtedly make them even more valuable.

However, research into this field would be unpredictable at best, as even Director Pie is not wholly familiar with her ancestors’ engineering. Tinkering with my fellow drones could lead to unseen, and perhaps unfortunate consequences, should things progress in an unwanted direction.

Not to mention the fact that it was difficult enough to get the Council to approve of their continued function, given this galactic civilization’s history with artificial beings and the outright illegality of A.I. research. Wholesale improvement of their functions could cause the public to draw unhealthy parallels with the situation between the Quarian race and their rogue A.I. creations, the Geth. Such scrutiny may not be worth the risk.

Directive Decision
The Reluctant Sentinel

Lieutenant Taxar Pyres, a turian C-Sec officer, has been assigned to New Ponyville as its live-in liaison. He has also made it clear that this was not an appointment of his choosing, and following a tense standoff with the Madam President and a personal dislike of his attitude, Pyres seems to be expecting, even anticipating, dismissal.

While his personality may be somewhat confrontational, his record tells another story. A ten year veteran of Citadel Security, Pyres has been commended on multiple occasions for actions above and beyond the call of duty. The turian has also declined multiple promotions in order to maintain his position of working directly against the Wards’ criminal element. His record also indicates that he has something of a problem with authority, having disobeyed the orders of superiors officers on multiple occasions in order to pursue personal leads. At disciplinary hearings, he has been quoted as saying: “I’ll follow orders right up until they get in the way of protecting innocent people.”

After reviewing C-Sec Protocols, I have determined that as the leader of the local conclave, you are within your rights to request a new district liaison and have already prepared said report to his superiors should you decide his attitude is not worth putting up with.

Authorize Report - Inform C-Sec of dissatisfaction with Lt. Pyres and make formal request for a replacement.

Withhold Report - Lt. Pyres will remain as current district C-Sec official for the foreseeable future, his superiors unaware of the events taking place at his arrival.

Choice
Media Hounds

Cameras and reporters again? It looks as if Citadel News Net is wanting to know more about us.

While we could easily decline media access, Miss Wong has proven herself to be sympathetic to our cause with her previous work, which was instrumental to our eventual settlement in New Ponyville. However, this was unexpected. She wants to do live, unedited interviews with a lot of ponies, apparently at random. It could be a chance to be heard and perhaps show some faith in our fellow Equestrians, but a single mistake might result in something being said that probably should not be said. A slip of the tongue at this crucial juncture could lead to negative results.

Twilight is clearly concerned about allowing cameras into New Ponyville, yet the smashing success of Pinkie Pie’s moment in the spotlight lends credibility to her compromise of exclusive interviews with the other members of the Herd’s leadership. At the very least, the Madam President trusts her friends to be able to handle themselves in front of an audience.

Running predictive model of the Madam President’s reaction.

Decline all Interviews: “I’m sorry, Miss Wong. Maybe another time.”
Approve Media Access: “Our doors are open. Feel free to begin right away.”
Exclusive Interviews: “My friends will be happy to answer your questions.”

VOTING IS CLOSED

::Results::

In the Name of Science

——————

Develop Equestrian Tech: 83.8%

Develop Arsenal: 10.4%

Develop Equine Artifice: 5.8%

====

Reluctant Sentinel

——————

Authorize Report: 1.7%

Withhold Report: 98.3%

====

Media Hounds

——————

Decline: 0%

Allow Media Access: 28.2%

Exclusive Interviews: 71.8%

The Madam President has signaled her belief that the Equestrians could benefit the most from scientific research geared towards improving their lives and capabilities.

Twilight has decided that Pyres’s experience and dedication outweighs his abrasive personality. He will remain as the district’s liaison.

The Madam President has faith in her friends’ abilities to represent the Herd in a positive way.

Arc 1 - Part 3: Sowing Seeds

Sowing Seeds

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 9 A.E

Present location: New Ponyville, Third Level Observation Balcony

Status: facilitating two-way communications

M.P. Sparkle in conference call with Citadel News Net Reporter, Emily Wong

Madam President Twilight Sparkle took a breath, nodding as she came to her decision after a few moments of silent contemplation.

“I don’t think most ponies are ready for the spotlight just yet,” the mare stated. “However, I would be more than happy to have the Directors sit down with you for an extended interview.”

“Alright, can you give me a moment to contact my producer and set it up?” came Emily’s voice from Forty-Two, her inflection pleasant.

“By all means,” Twilight said before drawing a hoof across her throat, a motion which Forty-Two immediately interpreted and executed as a signal to cut the connection, his eyes returning to full illumination. “Forty-Two, can you send a directive to the mechs to contact all of the Directors, with the exception of Pinkie Pie, and inform them of the situation? If they are available, we’ll likely be needing their assistance immediately.”

“I have already done so,” the mech assured her immediately upon re-establishing his own vocals, before voicing a concern. “I have to ask: Are you really sure about this, Twilight?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Twilight nodded. “I have faith that the others can conduct themselves in a respectable manner.”

“With all due respect to the Directors, Madam President, Applejack is honest to the point of embarrassment, Rainbow Dash tends to be brash and easily excitable, Rarity is an unrepentant show-pony, and I fear what the pressure of an audience will do for Fluttershy’s psyche,” Forty-Two pointed out bluntly. “And you would be asking them to answer unfielded questions in front of a live viewership of millions… potentially billions of sentients.”

“Well, I wouldn’t consider Pinkie Pie to be entirely ‘stable,’” Twilight countered, shuddering just slightly at remembering the experience in Sugar³. “And she managed just fine with Miss Wong. Besides, the alternative would leave the reputation of the entire Herd open to the reactions of a random sample of ponies. Can you imagine her interviewing the Crusaders?” The unicorn gave a tired chuckle. “Speaking of which, we really should set up some sort of town meeting or something to get everypony on the same page. I’ve been so busy, it hadn’t occurred to me to lay some ground rules out for everypony.”

“I’ll set some time aside to organize it, Twilight. But couldn’t we have simply rescheduled the media access until after addressing the Herd?”

“Maybe, but that would’ve likely put Emily, or more likely her employers, off,” Twilight defended herself and her decision. “If we are going to do this, then I want to present our best to the galactic audience. Emily’s a good person, but she’s also a journalist. There’s no doubt she would investigate if she thought we were hiding things.”

“But Madam President…” Forty-Two’s tone was flat. “…we are hiding things.”

“Details.” Twilight waved a hoof at the mech playfully as his antennae lit up, indicating he was receiving some new data.

“Miss Wong is addressing Seventeen of Twenty. Shall I re-establish contact?”

Twilight nodded, permitting the reopening of communications as Forty-Two’s eyes again turned to lines of audio feedback.

“Yes, Miss Wong?” Twilight asked, keeping her tone pleasant.

“Good news, Madam President,” Emily informed the mare. “My producer has given the green light and I’ve also been authorized to offer some monetary compensation for your time. With your permission, and if the Directors approve, we can set up a group interview at the Zakera Ward News Net Studio and have it all put together in under an hour.”

“A studio?” Twilight tilted her head, a little confused. “I thought you were going to perform the interviews on the spot here in New Ponyville.”

“Well, for the random streetside interviews I was originally aiming for, that would have been the plan, but this is a different animal altogether. Something of this nature involving cultural and diplomatic VIPs calls for a professional, high quality approach. My camera drone could do the job, but they have all the equipment and facilities at the studio to give the Directors’ interview the level of quality and attention it deserves. The controlled environment would also add to the professional setting and atmosphere and prevent unforeseen ‘interruptions’ during a live broadcast.”

“I can see your point... As long as they’re comfortable with it, I approve.” Twilight nodded to herself before a thought occurred to her. “Can you provide transport?”

“Of course. News Net can dispatch another shuttle to ‘discreetly’ bring the Directors to the studio and return them home when it’s done. No need to draw undue attention.”

“That would be appreciated, but I also have to insist that they are accompanied by their personal changeling drones at all times.”

“I don’t think that would be an issue,” Emily quickly agreed. “Having celebrities accompanied by bodyguards is nothing new.”

“And I would like the mechs to be kept strictly off camera,” Twilight added as a sudden afterthought, realizing that she had a responsibility to also work the angles to protect certain assets of the Herd.

There was a moment of silence from Forty-Two as it was clear the request had taken the reporter by surprise.

“May I ask why, Madam President?”

“They are an Equestrian-exclusive technology and I would rather they not be observed and visually analyzed in high definition by outside parties,” Twilight explained, which she noted elicited an approving nod from Forty-Two. “I’m sure you can understand.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, they will be kept out of the interview,” Emily replied before Forty-Two’s eyes lit up again, the mech retaking control of his vocal units.

“Madam President: The Directors have been notified of the situation and all four have accepted the proposal. They are standing by with the drones for further instructions.”

“Alright,” Twilight set her hooves together on the table in front of her. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

——————

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 9 A.E

Present location: M.P. Twilight Sparkle’s apartment

Status: observing Citadel News Net’s live extranet feed

“Welcome to Citadel News Net. I’m Emily Wong, here with a special extranet broadcast, live from our Zakera Ward studio.”

Twilight tapped her hooves together in a clearly nervous manner as she lay on her bed, watching the holographic projection of the two-dimensional display on the wall of her modest apartment. Emily Wong’s disarming smile and well-versed introduction spoke of her flair and experience despite being watched by an untold number of sentient beings that were in easy broadcast range on the enormous space station.

As Emily proceeded to speak, pleasantly introducing the four ponies that she was interviewing to the audience as their names scrolled by along the bottom of the screen, Forty-Two took a moment to look about and take in their surroundings, this being his first time actually inside his mistress’ “private sanctuary.”

The single room studio apartment of the Madam President (while quite spacious) remained utterly undecorated, with an unpainted grey bulkhead surrounding them, the serial numbers stamped into the prefab material still clearly visible. While a standard human style foam bed had been set up for her comfort against one side wall opposite of the projection, it seemed to be the only thing inside the apartment that had seen any real use. An empty kitchenette stood at the back of the apartment, and off to the side was a sliding doorway that led to the washroom.

However, far more interesting than the apartment itself, was the company that Twilight had invited to watch the interview with her on her surprisingly large extranet projection screen. At the foot of Twilight’s bed, the four young foals known as the “Cutie Mark Crusaders” (at least, until they could come up with a new name for their group) made their presence known as they cheered on the four mares now sharing the galactic spotlight.

“AJ looks awesome!” Apple Bloom commented, reaching over to the communal bowl of popcorn the four had been offered (which was quite a treat after days of hay and alfalfa) and taking note of the clever angling of the mobile camera as it panned over the stetson-wearing earth pony.

“Rarity’s been working on that outfit for days,” Sweetie informed her compatriots as the shot panned over Rarity, the only one of the four who had actually dressed for the occasion. To Twilight, the clothing somewhat resembled the ensemble worn by Commander Shepard’s XO back aboard the Normandy, the woman who called herself Miranda.

As she watched Rarity subtly angle herself so that the camera caught a full view of the outfit, the Madam President couldn’t help but be impressed (and slightly put off) by what the fashionista had decided to spend her small amount of discretionary funds on.

“Check out Rainbow, she looks like she’s ready to kick some flank and take some names!” Scootaloo grinned as the mare she still idolized stood at attention like a trained Royal Guard, nodding gruffly as if trying to project a sense of authority and aloofness.

“Aww, Fluttershy looks so sweet,” said Silver Spoon, who had joined her new friends for this little get-together while her mother had stated she had “real work” to do at her office in the neighboring Administration Building. “Did they put makeup on her or is that the camera doing that?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s real blush on her cheeks.” Apple Bloom shrugged.

“Nah... That’s definitely the camera.” Sweetie tapped her chin thoughtfully as she squinted at the image of Fluttershy.

As the four amateur political commentators lounged on the floor, Forty-Two considered the last of the figures in the room, who was standing stoically on the opposite side of Twilight’s bed. Big Macintosh watched with a silent, contemplative expression as the various pleasantries were exchanged between the Directors of the Equestrian Herd and their human interviewer.

“Ya’ll okay, Twi?” Big Mac asked in his usual slow-paced, heavily drawled manner, taking note of Twilight’s anxiety as the interview began in earnest.

“Of course I’m okay!” Twilight responded quickly, rubbing her hooves together with a forced grin. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The Madam President’s current level of stress is likely due to a combination of second thoughts concerning allowing the interview, a sense of helplessness at being so far removed from them that she is now unable to intervene, and social anxiety from putting herself into a non-professional setting with other ponies.”

Twilight glared at the mech, who did not even bother to turn his eyes to her as he seemed to be paying total attention to the unfolding interview.

“Thanks, Forty-Two,” Twilight managed through gritted teeth as her sarcasm kicked in. “I sorely needed to have that thrown out in the open.”

“You’re welcome, Madam President,” The mech answered in his flat, artificial voice which showed no reaction to her clear discomfort.

“There’s no reason ta be so nervous,” Big Mac observed, a simple statement that made the unicorn’s posture slump. “Ya’ll know ya can let yer mane down with us, Twi. We’re your friends. Hay, we’re practically family.”

Twilight looked to the large red stallion, letting go of a breath as she deflated in response to his slightly pleading tone.

“I know, Big Macintosh. And you’re right. I need to relax. I just… It’s weird to shift gears from having to be ‘Madam President’ to just being ‘Twilight,’” the unicorn confided in the stallion. “And besides, it’s not like we’re simply watching a vid. What’s happening right now could have all sorts of ramifications on--”

“Twi, shush!” Apple Bloom looked up over the lip of the bed glaring at the two adult ponies. “It’s startin’!”

Forty-Two had to actively suppress a mechanical snicker, as the filly scolding the two adults and asking for quiet set off his irony-detection subroutines. This reaction only took a fraction of a second before the room grew silent again, all eyes (both organic and mechanical) focused on the projected screen as the mech committed the events unfolding before him to memory.

——————

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 10 A.E

Present location: New Ponyville, Administration Level

Status: idle

Currently reviewing archived footage of CNN’s interview with the Board of Directors

“How would you describe your reception after coming aboard the Citadel?” Emily Wong asked, her tone pleasant as the four mares looked to one another.

Forty-Two paused the playback, analyzing the facial cues of the four mares… that slight unspoken agreement between them that delegated the task of answering to the most approachable among them: the demure yellow pegasus who hesitated for one-point-zero-eight seconds before responding.

Forty-Two resumed playback.

“Oh, everypony has been just amazing,” Fluttershy answered, her soft smile rating a twelve on a one to ten “cuteness rating” (or so Sweetie had described in her commentary). “When we first arrived, many of us were so scared… lost… and afraid of what was to come. To think that the galaxy would be so generous as to take us in. Well, I know that we are all quite eager to prove ourselves worthy of the kindness that we’ve been shown.”

Forty-Two paused the image.

There it was again; the slight, commanding undertone she projected while maintaining a perfectly soft voice. The passive-assertive manner in which it was said made absolutely certain to the audience that the Herd had no intention of freeloading.

Considering this in conjunction with a later point in the interview, the mech fast-forwarded his playback and came to a particularly memorable scene about twenty minutes later, when Emily Wong had started to use screened questions from viewers commenting on the extranet.

“Director Applejack, this one is for you. IntrepidDuty4731 from Palaven asks: ‘With your species displaying so many incompatibilities with technology available on the galactic market, how can you expect to compete in said market?'”

“So what he’s askin’ is: ‘How are we supposed ta get by if we’re so different from ya’ll?’” Applejack chuckled at the question before her expression turned more serious. “Well, ta tell the truth, it ain’t been easy. We’ve already been tryin’ since we came here ta get our hooves wet in the jobs market, and there ain’t no shortage of desire ta put in some hard work. Most folk’ll say it’s on account of us lackin’ any real experience, but if ya ask me, the real problem we’ve been havin’ is because a’ these.” Applejack raised a forehoof to illustrate her point. “Just because we can’t so much as type on a dang keyboard, most folk don’t think we’re fit for the kinda jobs you bipeds can do.”

While this may have been Applejack’s personal belief, Forty-Two didn’t think it was entirely accurate. The real issue that the Herd had been dealing with was a matter of liability. The companies that were rebuilding Tayseri didn’t want to risk being held accountable if a member of their “endangered” species was injured on their watch.

“But them same folks are forgettin’ somethin’ important.”

“And that would be?” Emily asked, clearly intrigued.

“Deep down, we’re just like everyone else on this station. When trouble comes a-knockin’, we find a way to do it.” Applejack nodded, firmly rooted in her beliefs. “Life is all about overcomin’ all sorts of obstacles.”

“Yeah, just think of the Hanar,” the Director of Defense interrupted brusquely. “I mean, flying jellyfish! That’s way weirder than a pony if you ask me. If you go by the ‘incapable due to being different’ theory that we keep hearing, then don’t you think they should be stuck in an aquarium somewhere? And yet here they are on the Citadel, putting up shops and starring in entertainment vids. I mean, you have one right over there…” Rainbow pointed off camera, presumably to a hanar employee of Citadel News Net. “…who is making this awesome vid of us.”

“What Ah’m sayin’ is…” Applejack took the scene back, nudging her friend in the ribs to bring the point back around. “All we’re askin’ fer is the chance ta prove we’re just as capable as anyone else.”

While Forty-Two would have grimaced internally at the less-than-flattering depiction of the Hanar, the message as a whole at least had been well-delivered. That made a total of six separate instances attempting to put forward the idea that the Herd was eager and willing to integrate into Citadel society. Hopefully enough to get the point across to the general public and engender the Herd’s public image.

Forty-Two let the playback continue.

“Alright. This next one is from CerulianInspired writing from all the way on Cyone: ‘Directors, as an aspiring anthropologist, I find myself wondering how a people that has been so isolated from galactic society could so quickly have their spoken language integrated into standard translation models without requiring so much as a minor patch. Can you explain this?’”

“Oh! I can take this one.” Rarity raised a hoof, quickly cutting off the other three Directors as she cleared her throat and making grand gestures as if she were addressing the crowd in person. “I had the very same question when we first encountered the Systems Alliance. As I understand it, the reason you can understand us, darling, is because we are already speaking a variation of standard Earth English, which is recognized by all translation software available in the galaxy.”

Emily gave the white unicorn a thoughtful look.

“So you were speaking in a human language before you even met your first human?” she queried, putting forward the obvious question.

“Why, yes. As Fluttershy explained earlier, we were raised in suspended animation; our interactions taking place in a virtual setting until we were rescued. The programs in charge of that world made it a point to introduce us to different languages common in the galaxy for when we might be able to communicate with our rescuers once we were found. Earth English was most recently chosen due to being the most likely we would encounter, given our former home’s proximity to Alliance Space. Before they came onto the galactic stage, I’m quite sure we were all speaking in an asari, or perhaps even a salarian dialect. But to us, it’s simply a native tongue. I suppose that the best way to describe our usage of the language would be ‘Equestrian English.’”

Forty-Two couldn’t help but huff in an electronic snort of amusement. This was only partly true.

Honestly, the human language had supplanted the galactic “trade tongue” dialect (which had long been determined to be the most commonly spoken language in the galaxy) as the Equestrian “default” for one simple reason: His former mistress had adored human culture. In particular, the works of human poets and writers of the English language, such as Twain, Asimov, and Frost. Particularly Shakespeare; Astrolia loved Shakespeare.

“I see...” Miss Wong offered, not needing to ask about how Equestria was aware of such things, as the issue had already been addressed. “And here is another question for you, Rarity. ImpeccablyDressed from Bekenstein asks: ‘Director Rarity, I and many of my colleagues have noticed with some disconcertion that your people tend to walk around completely unadorned, and yet, in this broadcast you are sporting what looks like a redesigned rendition of an asari-made Sasali suit. Is the nudity of your fellows a matter of tradition, choice, or simple practicality?’”

Forty-Two couldn’t help but be amused as he watched the replay of Rarity’s eyes lighting up like a foal in a candy shop, and was prepared to replay Twilight’s reaction to Rarity’s response side by side with the interview footage.

He could appreciate a good laugh as much as any flesh-and-blood pony.

*chirp-chirp-chirp*

All memory files were put on hold as Forty-Two’s eyes resumed their normal illumination, turning to quickly identify the surprisingly loud electronic sound that had echoed through the door he was guarding.

*chirp-chirp-chirp*

“AGH! WHAT IS THAT!?”

*CRASH*

*BANG*

Forty-Two instantly sprang into action, hacking the lock to the Madam President’s apartment in a few milliseconds so that it slid open as he brought his body around, quickly analyzing the situation.

The mechanical chirping kept repeating with an almost earsplitting volume as the changeling realized the Madam President was now splayed out on the floor, having clearly fallen out of the bed in a tangle of blankets. She was looking around with a frantic, spooked expression for the source of the sound.

“WHAT’S GOING ON!?” Twilight shouted, more out of her need to hear herself over the blasted chirping than out of any need for Forty-Two’s sensitive audio-receptors to hear her. All it took was to notice the blinking orange light centered on the unicorn’s front left hoof, and the changeling drone was made instantly aware of the situation.

If Forty-Two had a mouth, he would have grinned.

“You have an incoming call, Madam President,” Forty-Two informed her, his volume intentionally low.

“WHAT!?”

“You have a call,” Forty-Two tried again, increasing his volume levels.

“TALK LOUDER!”

“ANSWER THE CALL, TWILIGHT!”

“ANSWER TH--?”

Twilight’s questioning response was cut off with a startled gasp as her foreleg suddenly lit up in brilliant orange, causing her to recoil again as the transmitter at the base of her neck interpreted the proper command.

From the top of her fetlock, a screen expanded outwards, showing the pixelated image of a wide awake and still-damp Pinkie Pie, who had clearly just stepped out from a vapor shower, grinning broadly.

“Hey, Twilight! I got the two-way comm software working!” the Director of Technology informed the Madam President as the unicorn tried to catch her breath. Unfortunately, the volume of her omni-hoof was still apparently set to the maximum and it caused Twilight to cringe as she flattened her ears back in a vain attempt to protect her hearing.

“HOW DO I TURN IT DOWN!?” Twilight all but shouted at the screen.

“Oh, you think it, just like everything else,” Pinkie explained. Focusing her will with supreme determination, Twilight then thought hard about reducing the sound coming from her implanted tool, and what Pinkie said next, mercifully, came through at a much more reasonable volume. “Sorry about that... I forgot I had all the settings maxed out for testing purposes before I gave it to you.”

“My ears,” Twilight moaned piteously, rubbing the sides of her head. “My poor eee-he-hears…”

“Sorry, Twi, I thought you would already be up. And I really didn’t think it would be that loud...” the pink scientist apologized, now keeping her tone down as if speaking softly would matter at this point. “Vinyl just told me about your plan to meet up, and I wanted to know where we were gonna do that, then I figured I needed to get in touch with you and that would be the perfect chance to test out the omni-hoof’s communications suite, and then I realized I needed to clean up before I worked on getting the program just right in order to call you, so I--”

“Pinkie… I can’t hear a word you are saying,” Twilight deadpanned, clearly intending to cut the rambling earth pony off as Forty-Two chuckled to himself. “Give me a minute to recover my eardrums. I think they flew somewhere over by the kitchen.”

“Sure thing, Twilight. Again, I’m super sorry,” Pinkie offered, grinning sheepishly.

Meanwhile, Forty-Two’s earlier amusement faded as he analyzed Twilight’s body language while she tried to shake the ringing out of her ears.

Her fur had a pale, damp quality to it, indicating her body was slick with sweat, and his chemical sensors could detect a decent amount of anxiety-related hormones saturating the air.

A rude awakening wasn’t the only thing bothering his mistress, of that, Forty-Two was certain.

“I just need to fully wake up and get ready. Grab Vinyl and meet me at the balcony on the third level. I’ll be along in a little bit after I take a shower.”

“Sure. I’ll go ahead and bring some containers of tea, since it looks like you could use a real pick-me-up. I would bring some coffee, but...” Pinkie’s face took on a sour, but playful expression as she regarded Twilight through the interface. “...somepony converted my coffee machine into a puddle of omni-gel...”

The screen closed as Twilight mentally commanded the omni-hoof to hang up on the call and enter sleep mode, shaking her head as she looked up to her assistant through bleary, red-rimmed eyes.

The mech’s expressive optic lenses were alight with worry. “Twilight, what’s wrong?”

Twilight’s ears flattened again as her eyes narrowed.

“Nothing. I just need a shower. Please wait outside, Forty-Two.”

“Twilight, I--”

“Outside, Forty-Two… please,” the unicorn reiterated.

The mech, although hesitant, obeyed. Nonetheless, he filed this event along with other, similar observations for further investigation.

——————

The Sugar³ meeting had taken a couple of hours longer than Twilight really wanted it to, as Pinkie Pie and Vinyl laid out their options in extensive detail, as well as providing a list of possible recruits for the fledgling technology firm.

After they were finished, and Twilight had spent a little extra time with Pinkie to further elaborate on the omni-hoof’s functions, Forty-Two then presented the Madam President with some new information. Information that left no alternative than to propel her headlong into another important situation she had been dreading to face ever since the conclusion of Miss Wong’s interview.

This led her back in front of an enclosed storefront she’d paid a visit to once before, on the second level of New Ponyville, as she hesitated at the automatic door that led inside.

“I have sooooo not been looking forward to this,” Twilight sighed, shifting on her hooves uneasily and feeling like an absolute foal.

“I am sure that Director Rarity will be fairly amenable.”

“It’s not that. It’s just... Look, Forty-Two. We don’t have to tell her about those new reports, do we?” Twilight gave her assistant a hopeful, pleading expression. “I mean, maybe we can hold off a little while until--”

“The Director has already been made aware of the situation, Madam President,” Forty-Two informed his mistress, his expression flat as she slumped in reaction to this news.

“Why did you have to go and do that?”

“Because it was highly relevant to her position as Director of Culture,” Forty-Two answered, his mechanical tone taking on an undercurrent of annoyance as he checked to make sure there was nopony in earshot. “With all due respect, Twilight, shouldn’t you just go in and get it over with?”

“I’m the Madam President. If I want to stand around and postpone an awkward and embarrassing conversation with one of my friends, then I am going to--”

The door to the new “Equestrian Essentials” clothiers slid open suddenly as Twilight stood motionless before them, and a pleasant-sounding chime went off, immediately drawing the attention of the two mares inside.

Standing to the left, an absolute icon to Equestrian beauty, was Rarity herself, still wearing the white and black suit that she had sported during the interview the day before. Her violet mane was perfectly groomed and curled as it usually was, and several small instruments were floating around her, each held gingerly in a blue swirl of light.

To the unicorn’s right stood a grey mare sporting a darker grey mane whom Twilight was not immediately familiar with. Her mulberry eyes glanced up towards the Madam President with surprise before she took an awkward step back, as if unsure how to react, and the strange earth pony was wearing an evidently incomplete outfit which Rarity seemed to be in the midst of working on before they had been interrupted.

Twilight turned for half a moment to glare at the changeling, who stared stoically ahead in a mechanical fashion, showing no signs of guilt for prematurely opening the door.

“Oh! Oh... uhhh, Twilight... Er, I mean...” the grey mare started up, her tone bespoken of the sophisticated and upper class, as opposed to the more neutral accents most of her fellow Equestrian’s spoke with. Come to think of it, she sounded more in line with Rarity’s speech styles than anypony else that Twilight knew. “Madam President, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be... uhhh...”

“It’s quite alright, Octavia.” Rarity turned away from Twilight, smiling warmly as her various tailor’s tools floated over to a desk. “Fancy titles aside, she doesn’t bite.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that she would, I just... uhh... eheh...” The mare called Octavia looked to Twilight for a moment, then back at the half-finished outfit she wore which seemed to drape over her backside in a cape-like fashion, leaving her belly and hind legs exposed underneath while forming like a suit around her front legs and chest. “I’ll just... go take this off while you two attend to business.”

Octavia nodded as she backed away from Twilight, who now found herself begrudgingly walking into the store with Forty-Two at her side, the metal doors closing softly behind her.

“Good morning, Rarity,” Twilight said sheepishly, attempting to straddle the issue that had brought her here. “So... friend of yours?”

“Humph.” The white unicorn turned her nose up in the air, turning away from Twilight with as she projected an aura of indignation, causing the Madam President’s sheepish expression to melt into annoyance.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me, Rarity. Don’t tell me that you’re seriously going to--”

“Say it.”

“Rarity, we’re not foals here! I have to talk to you about--”

“Saaaaaay it.”

“Oh, for the love of...!” Twilight let out a grunt of aggravation as she stomped a hind hoof to the metal floor so hard it sent a painful jolt up her spine. “Fine! You were right!” The purple unicorn grimaced, shouting slightly as she admitted what she had been saying for the better part of the last five days had been in error. “There, happy!?”

“Quite.” Rarity nodded as she turned back towards Twilight, a pleased smile on her face.

“For a mare who’s always claimed to be so mature,” Twilight huffed in agitation. “You sure can act foalish sometimes.”

“There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act a little foalish every now and then. Although, I am not so petty as to start saying ‘I told you so.’”

Twilight felt her upper lip curl in a half-sneer. “You just did...”

“Did I? Oh, I hadn’t noticed.” Rarity waved a foreleg dismissively before proceeding with the matter at hoof. “I assume you’ve seen the same reports that I have.”

“I didn’t have to see the reports to realize that you caused what amounted to a complete cross-cultural catastrophe in a matter of minutes!” Twilight scolded, getting to the heart of the matter. “And while we’re on that subject, what were you thinking!?”

“I was asked a serious question during a professional interview. I answered to the best of my abilities, and when Miss Wong requested that I elaborate, I told the truth,” Rarity defended herself, keeping her tone aloof as if she failed to understand the alarm in Twilight’s tone.

“‘And yet many ponies fail to consider that in spite of our own comfort among our fellow equines, most sentients are unable to avert their eyes in the same manner in which we have been brought up since birth, allowing something as simple as a flick of the tail to leave us scandalously exposed.’” Twilight quoted word for word, a flush running over her face as she recalled how the subject made even Big Mac turn redder than usual, and made all four fillies in the room very self conscious as they pulled Twilight’s blanket down over themselves. “Allow me to ask again, Rarity... What were you thinking!?”

“I was addressing a very real concern which you have been pointedly ignoring ever since we arrived on the Citadel, dear,” Rarity pointed out, her own smile fading as her tone grew more defensive. “And at the risk of sounding blunt, ‘Madam President,’ perhaps you’ve been too busy to notice that other species refuse to so much as walk behind us.”

“What I’ve noticed since I’ve been out and about today is that I have more than half of New Ponyville waddling around with their tails tucked firmly between their legs out of shame, when yesterday they didn’t have any problem at all being furclad! You did not have to embarrass our entire species in front of an audience of billions just to make your point!”

“Well, you’re here now, so it must have worked, did it not?”

“Rarity!”

“Look, I’m sorry if the truth makes you feel a little uncomfortable, Twilight!” Rarity huffed. “But you know quite well that I’m right. We are not in Equestria anymore! If we are going to be dealing with other species on a daily basis, we have to account for their sensitivities, which in this case, means we have to adhere to a different cultural standard, at least in public!”

Twilight found herself gritting her teeth as she looked away, letting out a primal snort before her expression started to soften, her ears flattening in a subconscious admission of defeat.

“Besides...” Rarity likewise began to cool off, as her friend’s body language indicated that the tense portion of this discussion was over. “It is better we get a little embarrassed and start developing a sense of modesty now while we can still claim ignorance, rather than a few months down the line when our reputations would be set as improper, naked beasts.”

Twilight looked up to the sometimes overly dramatic fashion pony, who was now speaking in a lighter tone.

“I took on this role for a reason, Twilight. Not just because I happen to be your friend and thus need to have a fancy ‘Director’ title, but because when it comes to these sorts of issues, I happen to know what I’m talking about.”

“When you said you wanted to open a boutique... I assumed it was just because you wanted to sell clothes like you did before all of this,” Twilight offered.

“I’ll admit, that’s not... entirely inaccurate,” the ivory pony had to concede the point. “But at the same time, it’s a ready solution to an issue that simply needs to be resolved. I’m just glad you’re finally seeing things from my point of view, darling.”

“Um... Rarity, I hope I am not interrupting.” Rarity’s guest, Octavia, drew attention to herself, tentatively moving out from the makeshift changing room in the back of the shop with the outfit she had been wearing folded over one foreleg as she moved to set it on the counter.

“It’s no trouble, Octavia.” Rarity nodded to the earth mare. “Twilight and I just have to go over a few things.”

“You two seem rather busy, though. Perhaps I should come back later?” Octavia queried, although she still seemed nervous with Twilight standing right there.

Twilight recognized that expression in the eyes of dozens of ponies who were in awe of the authority of her former Princess.

It was a sign of deference.

She found the sight of it put a bitter taste in her mouth.

“If you must, dear. I’ll meet you later for lunch, then.”

The grey pony mare nodded as she strolled casually out of the shop, clearly eager to leave the two to their own devices.

“Your new assistant?” Twilight asked, trying to regain her hoofing, pointing out something that she had noticed was becoming a pattern as each of the Directors seemed to be picking out like-minded individuals to help them in their endeavors.

“Oh, hardly anything so... ‘official.’ Octavia and I are just good friends that happen to share a few common interests. She used to be a classical musician in Canterlot, and we’d often get the chance to meet up whenever I happened to stop by on business,” Rarity explained. “As it happens, I was actually one of the only real ponies she knew, as much of the upper-crust of Canterlot were simply management programs. I must say, it’s rather refreshing to know at least somepony familiar with class and decorum.”

“Why would that matter?” Twilight inquired, honestly curious what point there was to emulate the ways and manners of high society when such distinctions were meaningless, given their low numbers.

“It’s a matter of maintaining our culture, Twilight. There is nothing wrong with being casual, and I don’t mean to act like I’m better than anypony else. But we also need to preserve our higher etiquette for the day when we move beyond our status as an endangered hooffull of refugees. In that case, I prefer to lead by example.”

“If we may come back to the matter at hoof, Madam President... Director Rarity,” Forty-Two interrupted the casual talk, all too well aware that there were other meetings to be had after this one.

“Oh, but of course. Business. Here I am babbling on like a brook and taking up your time,” Rarity huffed in amusement, nodding to the black mech. “By all means, continue, dear.”

“As you were both made aware, the new poll conducted at Director Rarity’s request following the interview indicates that eighty-seven percent of Equestrians now agree that it is absolutely vital to acquire some form of attire when dealing with other species,” Forty-Two stated dryly, bringing the facts to the front. “Also, since the interview aired nine hours ago, New Ponyville’s extranet information site has seen a dramatic rise in page hits, and numerous feeds across multiple social commentary sites have seen questions regarding when the district will be made accessible to the public at large.”

“Which needs to be soon.” Twilight nodded. “What are our options in the clothing department?”

“Well, of course you know I am more than happy to design and fabricate custom outfits for the Herd. I already have quite a few design ideas that will be both comfortable to us and acceptable to alien sensibilities,” Rarity stated with certainty, her horn again alight as she lifted a datapad from the nearby counter and brought it in front of Twilight.

Sitting back on her haunches, Twilight waved her left leg, which lit up in an array of shifting orange panels as the information was copied from the floating datapad to her omni-hoof.

Rarity’s eyes widened, a sparkle coming to her eyes as she realized what it was.

“Oh, my... Is that what I think it is? Where can I get one of those?”

“Pinkie’s working on making more of them as we speak. Hopefully, we’ll get one in the hooves of every pony by the end of the week,” Twilight informed Rarity as she accessed the datafile, going through the sketches of various styles of dress. It was clear to Twilight what Rarity had been working on since their exodus from Equestria, and while she was no expert by any means, she had to admit... they looked good. Better than good; amazing. Adapting various alien styles into Equestrian attire for some, while others were purely original concepts.

Then, of course, the reality of the situation had to present itself.

“...How much?”

“I have already used my share of the allowance you gave out to us to purchase materials and some basic machinery, which is how I put this little number together.” Rarity stood and waved a hoof in a presenting fashion over herself before gesturing to the half-finished outfit on the counter. “I’ve already started work on my next project, as you can see, and Octavia’s been essential in helping me get the proportions just right. The fabric is not exactly the Citadel’s finest, but I have a few tricks I can apply to compensate for that. For mass production, however, I’ve already given that list to your changeling over there.”

Twilight turned to the mech, who was bringing up the files and running the numbers.

“Processing.” Forty-Two’s eyes flickered. “Insufficient funds available.”

Rarity drooped as Twilight drew a sharp breath through her teeth. She knew this was coming.

Between food, amenities, Applejack’s still-lacking efforts in finding paying work, so many eager business startups, and Pinkie’s unanticipated splurge, their funds were being strained to the breaking point. And now they were nearing the bottom of the barrel.

“What about if we just bought off-the-rack prefabs and did alterations to make them fit? That way we can cloth everypony, and it would be cheaper, right?” Twilight suggested, which made Rarity take on a very sour expression.

“Well, I suppose… I could do that. But the result would hardly be ideal. Can you imagine everypony walking around in the exact same cheap, mass-produced, one-tone outfits? Oh, just the thought of it...” Rarity grimaced, making it clear she was not exactly thrilled at the prospect. “Besides, alterations can be just as time-consuming as original designs. I mean, it would probably be less expensive due to the savings in raw materials, but--”

“But you would rather be able to say: ‘Yes, we made that,’” Twilight finished for her, already seeing where Rarity was going. “I know, Rarity. I get it.”

“It’s not that, Twilight,” the Director of Culture explained. “Clothing is not just for covering our... ‘unmentionables.’ It is also a form of artistic expression. It’s a way of stating who we are to the outside galaxy and that is something of an imperative. The Herd has to reclaim its identity and this is one way we can go about doing it.”

Twilight sighed, having to grudgingly admit that the mare did have a point.

“Madam President, there is another Equestrian endeavor that has credits earmarked but has not yet been approved for spending. Diversion of these funds would release adequate resources for Director Rarity’s project,” Forty-Two spoke up suddenly.

Twilight turned, her heart sinking a little as Rarity’s eyes lit up hopefully. Not for the first time, the purple unicorn found herself wishing that her assistant could learn when to keep his speakers turned off.

“Which one?” Twilight asked, realizing that at the very least she had to look at her options.

“The Agricenter’s Greenhouse Project,” Forty-Two answered plainly.

Twilight cringed.

Golden is not going to like this.

*Updating Codex*

*Director Rarity: updated*

——————

I hate it when I’m right.

“Madam President! I can’t believe what you’re suggesting!” shouted the yellow-coated, bright orange-maned earth mare as she stomped a back hoof in indignation.

“Calm down, Golden Harvest,” Twilight attempted to sooth the forepony of what had come to be known as the “Agricenter”: a small group of former food providers that had banded together to form a lobby of nearly a dozen agricultural, floral, and green grocer specialists.

“You come out here and tell me that you’re going to cut off our funding before we even have the chance to get started and you want me to calm down!?”

“I haven’t made my decision yet,” Twilight defended, trying to keep a calm demeanor in the face of the earth pony’s clear displeasure. “That’s what I’m here, right now, to discuss with you! I wanted to talk about the possibility of delaying the Greenhouse’s startup until we’ve managed to stabilize.”

“The Greenhouse Project is exactly what New Ponyville needs right now!”

“We have food,” Twilight fired back, crossing her forelegs as she sat back on her haunches and tried to play devil’s advocate. “And after reviewing the specifics, I can’t help but think it’s far more ambitious than we were previously led to believe. I had no idea it would cost that much just to provide a proper growing environment.”

“We have dry hay, grains, and oats, all imported from human colonies. That’s not food, it’s ‘feed.’ There is a difference.” Golden shook her head in mild disgust. “I am talking about carrots, fresh flowers, apples... Real fruits and vegetables. It’s supposed to be ambitious, Twilight! We are trying to make New Ponyville self-sufficient. Think about it! If the ground doesn’t grow anything, we don’t have an economy.”

“Golden... We live on a space station.” Twilight made her point by clicking a back hoof on the floor, eliciting a metallic ring. “I know you’re proposal is for an enclosed hydroponic greenhouse, but that presents its own problems. One month of running the UV lights alone would cost enough credits to buy a luxury shuttlecraft!”

“That’s not the-- Are you gonna start getting technical with me, Twilight?”

“All I’m saying is that the cost of all of that equipment is enough to not only fund Rarity’s boutique, but there would be enough leftover from that to buy food--”

“Feed!”

“Fine... Feed enough for everypony for over six months!” Twilight was starting to get frustrated from having to hammer the point home so many times. “Look, I love fresh greens and veggies as much as anypony, but it’s something that we can start pushing towards after we get our hooves dug in. I’m just saying, we can stand to wait a few months.”

Golden growled, clearly agitated.

“And what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Join Applejack’s imaginary work detail? Yeah, that’s been a real upstart proposition so far.”

“Now, hold on just a moment--" Twilight objected, but was sidelined as Golden continued to vent.

"Just because Rarity went on the extranet and made a few mares feel a little awkward about our rumps showing, you're going to derail the entire Agricenter and have us standing around doing nothing? Do you think I don't see what's going on here? Favoritism, that's what this is! One of your friends wants to do something and you push the rest of us aside to--"

"ENOUGH!" Twilight's shout echoed across the first level of Ponyville, causing more than a few ponies to turn their heads before they quickly returned to their own business.

Golden took a sudden step back, her eyes wide and face pale, realizing she had gone a step too far as Twilight's eyes narrowed on her.

"As I keep trying to tell you, I haven’t decided yet. I’m here for your input on the situation and to inform you of the possibility that the Greenhouse might be temporarily set back,” Twilight fumed, her tone dangerously edged. "I have to consider the benefits to the Herd as a whole, not cater to any single group, be it my friends, the Agricenter, or anypony else. And I am most certainly not about to change my mind on any situation because somepony wants to throw a tantrum like a week-old foal!"

Golden, a strong-willed and stubborn mare in her own right, kept her eyes on the unicorn, refusing to look away as the two stared one another down, their snouts mere inches away from one another.

“Is there a problem here?”

Golden looked away first as the reverberating, alien voice cut in, retreating from the silent battle of wills and allowing Twilight a moment of relief as she realized the fur on the back of her neck had risen. Releasing a held breath before she looked to the source of the voice, she couldn't help but appreciate Golden's shocked reaction.

"I beg your pardon!? Who--" Golden turned, then had to crane her neck up as she took in the blue and black armor-encased frame of New Ponyville’s security liaison.

"Lieutenant Pyres?" Twilight tilted her head as she took a good look at the district's turian C-Sec representative.

Now in uniform, the turian certainly cut a more impressive figure than before, standing comfortably in his armor with a remarkably relaxed posture. And while she couldn’t be certain, on account of his scaled, plated face, Twilight got the feeling that Pyres was actually grinning.

“Who do you think you are? This is a private discussion between me and the Madam President!” Golden balked, only slightly intimidated by the alien’s overbearing presence and authoritative demeanor.

“I happen to be the one in charge of settling disputes in this district before laws end up getting broken,” Pyres stated matter-of-factly, his voice turning sour. “And to be honest, if you two ladies don’t start playing nice, I won’t hesitate to forcefully separate you two until you cool off... Understood?”

Golden cringed, unsure of herself now as she was faced with an unknown quantity. This hesitation allowed Twilight to step forward.

"That won't be necessary, Lieutenant," Twilight stated calmly. "Miss Harvest and I were just having a heated discussion. We were hardly about to come to blows over it. Right, Golden?"

"Do me a favor and try not to have them out in the open, would you?" The turian nodded, folding his arms. "I don't claim to know how you ponies settle your differences, but I’ve seen milder arguments end in someone getting shot, and I’m not about to let any of that crap happen on my watch."

"But we..." Golden shivered, unnerved by Lt. Pyres' hawkish eyes as he glared at the two of them, and her tone instantly shifted to be more apologetic. "I... think I've taken up enough of your time, Madam President. I hope that this... unpleasantness won't influence--"

"I'll contact you once I've made my decision, Golden," Twilight stated bluntly.

The yellow mare’s shoulders rose at this, but another sideways look to the turian took whatever she had to say out of her breath and ended the confrontation with her turning to head back into the warehouse she and her fellows had claimed for their project.

Twilight shook her head as she felt a pounding pressure behind her eyes, and tried to preempt it by rubbing her temples with either hoof.

"Forty-Two, could you--"

Information summarized. Projections phrased. Prepping asset comparison report between “Greenhouse” project and “Equestrian Essentials” project. Analysis comparison complete. File ready for review.

"--put together one of those reports for me?"

"Complying. Please stand by," Forty-Two chirped in a purposefully neutral mechanical voice, having already processed the request in the course of a few milliseconds before going silent and observing. He wasn’t willing to give the turian a good understanding of his capabilities just yet.

The C-Sec officer and unicorn quiet for a few moments as the black mech watched the two of them, trying to puzzle out this unexpected interaction.

"Lt. Pyres... I..." Twilight started before she took a breath. "Thank you."

"I’m not asking for your thanks, I’m just doing my job. Speaking of which, don't start screaming like that unless there's a real emergency. This armor's not made for sprinting, you know."

"Yeah, sorry about that. That got a little more tense than I expected."

"That was tense?" Pyres huffed in an amused fashion, his inflection sarcastic. "Well then, I’d hate to see what happens when you lose your temper."

"Yeah..." Twilight ran a hoof over the back of her neck, flashing back on a recent memory she always tried to keep far from her thoughts. "Uh... Lieutenant, I admit we didn't exactly get off on the right hoof. And seeing as how we're going to be working together for a while--"

"Yeah, just stop right there, Madam President." Pyres shook his head. "Like I've been telling these ponies all morning, I'm not interested in being friends. I’m just here to do my job until I get reassigned to more important work."

Twilight gave the turian a blank expression before something occurred to her.

Cultural sensitivities.

"I was going to suggest we have a meeting so that we can go over the ground rules in New Ponyville," Twilight improvised, shifting gears as she put on a mask of professionalism. "I got my hooves on a copy of your record and if you can keep in line with that, then I'm not going to fire you."

"...Damn," The turian swore, although his inflection sounded amused, at least.

"Your personal quirks notwithstanding, I like to think that your superiors know what they are doing."

"You haven't been in politics for very long, have you?"

"Like it or not, we're stuck together. Deal with it." Twilight shrugged. "Now, if we’re going to do this, then let's at least make sure it's done efficiently. Make it clear what either of us can do so that you don't step on my tail and I don't interfere in your procedures."

"That..." The turian seemed to consider for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I can work with that."

"I was about to take lunch. Care to join me?"

*Updating Codex*

*The Agricenter: updated*
*Intraspecies Conflicts: updated*

——————

“It’s not something we think of consciously,” Twilight explained as Pyres nodded, paying very close attention as the unicorn briefed him on pony body language. “It’s one of those old, primal instincts, the kind we never quite evolved out of. If you see a pony dig their forehoof into the ground and keep it raised, that’s the important part, keeping it raised, then you know we are past words and somepony is about to get hurt. It’s very rare that it happens, but that’s the signal you want to look for before intervening.”

“And until you reach that point, it’s just a staring contest?” Pyres sounded shocked. “Not even the Hanar are afraid to get physical when the situation calls for it. And have you seen two hanar fight? That’s the kind of stuff the extranet was made for.”

“We’re not an inherently violent species, but we do have our disagreements. This works as a sort of way to determine who has the greater conviction. The first to flinch away tends to back down completely, admitting they’re wrong,” Twilight answered, setting her hooves together as she leaned forward in her seat. “It’s not something we do with aliens. No offense, but if one of us gets mad with you, don’t expect the same sort of warning.”

“So I should shoot first. Good to know.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” Twilight huffed.

“...I was joking,” Pyres told the unicorn flatly. “Looks like you still have plenty to learn yourself, Madam President. Besides, could you imagine the paperwork I would have to deal with if something like that actually happened to one of you ponies?”

“So I trust you’ll use this knowledge to keep the peace...?” Twilight asked, not amused by the turian’s twisted sense of humor.

“Hey, I am all for letting you ponies take care of your own little problems. Hell, I wish other species did the same; Headquarters wouldn’t be so packed with people complaining all the time. In any case, just consider me window dressing, patrolling the district or at my station until some real issue comes up.”

Twilight nodded understandingly, having taken more than an hour longer than she usually did for her lunch and postponing a few less urgent meetings in order to brief the turian on what he might expect from New Ponyville. She also paid close attention to his thoughts on the district in regards to security, and how they would be best able to handle the (hopefully large) influx of visitors once the district was “officially” opened for business.

They didn’t agree on everything, and the turian’s offbeat way of talking sometimes made the pony want to groan, but as Twilight continued to speak with him, she found herself more convinced that Forty-Two had made the right call by preventing her from immediately calling for his dismissal when they had met the day before.

“Alright, is there anything else?” Twilight asked, keeping her tone even and professional.

“Just one other thing: your ‘Director of Defense,’” Pyres offered, jumping into the subject quickly and getting straight to his point. “I know that you are friends with her, but you have to understand that she really has no idea what she’s doing. It’s not biotics keeping her flying, it’s hot air. She couldn’t handle herself in a combat situation with a waste-disposal drone.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate her...” Twilight stated testily. “Rainbow may come off as hot-headed, but she won’t stop at anything to try and protect the Herd.”

Twilight wanted to further refute the lieutenant in regards to Rainbow’s lack of training and discipline, but found that she really couldn’t argue much further without undermining her own argument.

“Yeah, emphasis on ‘try.’ Don’t get me wrong, she’s passionate about what she’s doing, I’ll give her that,” Pyres continued. “And maybe where you come from that was enough. But in the Wards, that’s just not going to cut it. If she just rushes into troublesome situations like she did yesterday, she is going to get hurt. If she wants to claim any kind of authority over security around here, she needs the formal training to back it up.”

“Could you help her with that?” Twilight asked.

“...Maybe. But I seriously doubt she’ll listen. Besides, I think she’s still upset about yesterday. Didn’t say much to me at the security station this morning except for pointing out that most of the office was ‘her’ side and that I could only walk around on ‘my’ side.”

Twilight shook her head.

“Yeah, she can be a little foalish sometimes. Don’t worry, she’ll listen to me,” Twilight assured the turian.

“Oh, Twilight!”

The unicorn’s eyes snapped open as a familiar voice came from her left. Pyres also seemed to notice this and was for some reason shocked seeing as how to the left of the table was an open, empty space where the balcony on the third level of New Ponyville ended.

“There you are. I’m so glad I found you.” Fluttershy drew her fetlock over her brow, having clearly worked up a sweat as she hovered effortlessly in place over thin air, something that the turian sitting across from the unicorn was watching with a still-amazed expression. “I’ve been looking all over New Ponyville for you.”

“Uhh, Shy?” Twilight started, clearly having no issue with what she was seeing. “You do realize that you can contact me by talking to any changeling unit we have, right?”

“Oh, we can? I didn’t know that...” Fluttershy drew back, lowering her eyes demurely before she turned to look at Taxar. “Oh... Hello, Lt. Pyres. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Uh... Hi.” The turian was unsure of himself at first before recognizing the yellow pony. “Director... Fluttershy, right? Interspecies Relations? From the interview last night.”

“Yes, that’s me. Um, I know this may not be the best time, but have you had that looked at?”

The turian drew back. “Excuse me?”

“It looks like a mild case of plate ostrea dermis, the turian equivalent of psoriasis.” Fluttershy motioned to the side of her face, drawing Twilight’s attention to a very minor discoloration along the turian’s jawline. “Right there. Have you tried any dextro-amino balms?”

“How did...” Pyers turned away from Fluttershy, actually off guard as the pony diagnosed a very minor issue that he had dealt with since childhood, but most aliens, even those with xeno-medical training, were unaware of.

“She does that,” Twilight explained swiftly. “Part of that specialized Equestrian training I was talking about. Fluttershy is very good at observing things about other species.”

She turned to the pegasus, who was nodding in agreement.

“Anyways, you needed to see me Fluttershy?”

“Oh, yes, that’s right. I think we may have a teensy little problem,” Fluttershy said, moving up over the railing and landing gracefully on the balcony next to the table, a very faint yellow glow dissipating from around her body as she folded her wings against her back. “We have some visitors.”

Twilight huffed in annoyance at this new “problem.”

“You too, Fluttershy? I had this talk with Rainbow yesterday. We are not turning away everypony that comes to our door just because--”

“Oh, no, it’s not that. I let them in,” Fluttershy quickly admitted, although she cringed a moment later. “I’m... kind of regretting that now, because they don’t seem to want to leave.”

Twilight gave the pegasus a curious look.

“Okay, Fluttershy. What exactly is the problem here?”

The yellow pegasus gulped slightly. “...Krogan.”

“And so much for being window dressing.” Pyres’ mandibles clicked, a motion that Twilight was starting to connect to either nervousness or frustration.

She wasn’t surprised to see his reaction, at least, if what she had found out upon reading up on the conflict-prone species was anything to go by. Close to two meters tall, armor-plated, incredibly long-lived, and with a penchant for violence, krogan often meant bad news in any situation they were involved in.

“You let a bunch of krogan just waltz right into the district!?”

“Well, they were yelling at the drones near the elevator and I was worried that they might be labeled as hostile, so I offered a tour as compromise,” Fluttershy explained. “From what I can tell, they’re young for krogan. I don’t think any of them are over a hundred. They seemed genuinely interested in seeing us and learning about Equestrians, so I didn’t think there would be a problem.”

“I have a feeling I know where this is going.” Pyres shook his head.

“I showed them around the lower levels and they seemed interested enough. But now they’re refusing to leave. I tried asking nicely and reasoning with them, but they won’t listen to me.”

“How many?” Pyres asked before Twilight could.

“There’s four of them, Lt. Pyres,” the pegasus offered.

“Armed?”

“Oh! Of course not! I would never have let aliens into New Ponyville if they had weapons with them.” Fluttershy put a hoof in front of her mouth, as if she found the very thought detestable. “I know krogan don’t have the best reputations, but I didn’t see anything wrong with letting them take a look around.”

“Have they done anything yet?”

“Um, no,” Fluttershy answered a bit meekly. “Not anything bad. They just didn’t want to leave. Maybe you could say something to them?”

Lt. Pyres sat back in his seat, his three-fingered hands folded together as he considered.

“Well, if they haven’t done anything illegal yet, there’s not much I can do. The district is a protected habitat, but it’s not eminent domain.”

“But, krogan are dangerous aren't they?” Twilight objected, shocked that the turian was not rushing to perform his duty.

“Definitely.” Pyres nodded. “But even they know the rules on the Citadel. I can’t take action until they’re about to actually try something.”

Twilight clenched her eyes shut in realization as she remembered something that the turian had told her just a little while ago during their meeting.

“And it falls to the local conclave leader to set forward preventative measures in their individual districts,” Twilight sighed.

“That’s right,” Pyres confirmed with a nod.

“Wait, what does that mean, exactly?” Fluttershy tilted her head, unsure of herself.

“It means that unless a crime is actually committed, I’m the one who has to deal with our new krogan guests,” Twilight explained.

“Well, to be fair, most conclave leaders delegate that responsibility,” the turian suggested.

Twilight seemed unamused at the suggestion. “I would have to delegate it to Rainbow.”

“...Point taken. You should handle this yourself,” Pyres agreed.

“I’m within my rights to throw them out of the district, right?” Twilight asked.

“On paper you are, but the issue there is enforcing it,” the C-Sec officer explained. “It’s entirely possible they’ll just get bored and leave after long enough. Krogan may be long-lived, but they have the attention span of a space hamster when they aren’t busy shooting at anything.”

“Well, I’m not just going to wait around until something manages to provoke them,” the unicorn countered. “I should at least try to convince them to go before that happens.”

“But, Twilight, what if somepony gets hurt?” Fluttershy looked worried, as the Lieutenant got up from his seat.

“I can be there on standby in case things get out of hand. But until someone crosses a line, I can’t do much more than glare at them. Which, me being turian, would likely just egg them on. Keep in mind, krogan usually don’t respect anything except brute force. You can try talking them into leave peacefully, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

Forty-Two, who had remained silent off to the side as the events unfolded before him, watched as Twilight took a breath, trying to weigh her options.

——————

Log Entry: 42 of 50 - Day 10 A.E

Assets Acquired:

+15: New Ponyville - Following the live broadcast of CNN’s interview with the four remaining members of the Equestrian Board of Directors, the public of the Citadel has gained a firmer understanding of the Equestrians as a people. This has led to increased awareness of the Herd’s difficulties and interest in pony-based goods and culture.

Codex Update: Director Rarity, The Agricenter, Intraspecies Conflict

Author's Note

Directive Decision
To Clothe or To Feed

With initial credit funds at a premium, there comes a time when sacrifices must be made. In this case, the recently reassessed necessity to provide suitable garments for everypony must be weighed against the prospect of higher quality foodstuffs. Projections suggest that both ventures could become equally profitable in time, and that either could be given later consideration should the credits become available. The question becomes which project should be our initial focus.

Option A: Invest in Equestrian Essentials - Director Rarity has been attempting to plead her case since first arriving in New Ponyville. Last night’s interview with Miss Wong merely brought her issues front and center, confirming via the reaction from the galactic public that her fears of Equestrian nudity is indeed a major factor in how the Herd is perceived. The Director also argues that the artistic and cultural expression through fashion may help the Equestrian Herd gain a sense of identity, something that she seems to believe we have a serious risk of losing in a sea of new cultures and alien philosophies. Rarity has offered to use her “knack” for creativity to produce custom designs and outfits for everypony, but the equipment needed to make this cost-effective is an expensive initial investment.

If declined, a minor consideration fund can be used to purchase bulk and second-hoof clothing that can be altered to fit most Equestrians. While not as fancy or expressive as the custom works promise to be, these would do the job of protecting our newly developing modesty, at least.

Option B: Invest in the Greenhouse - Golden Harvest has made her feelings of our current food stocks very clear: She finds them woefully inadequate. Without a planet of our own to develop an agricultural base, the Agricenter, a team of pony farmers and agricultural specialists which Golden represents, have proposed building a new form of hydroponic greenhouse that can sustain a high yield of plant life in the artificial setting of the Citadel.

Although at first presented as a simple matter, closer scrutiny has revealed the Greenhouse to be a major undertaking, as the completely original system would have to be built from scratch. If successful (and judging from the complexity of the untested system, that is a very large “if”) the Greenhouse could well provide not only sustenance for the Herd, but a new source of income in the selling of fresh surplus to other levi-amino species on the Citadel.

If declined, the leftover funds following the purchase of equipment for Equestrian Essentials will be more than adequate to sustain our food stocks in the same manner we have been doing so for the foreseeable future. While ponies would be able to purchase higher quality foods from other vendors using personal funds, the staple Equestrian diet would remain basic.

Choice
The Worst Kind of Company

This was unexpected.

Following the interview last night, it seems that a group of curious visitors have decided to pay a visit to New Ponyville to see the sights. The only problem is that these visitors happen to be krogan adolescents, a highly aggressive and volatile reptile species with which we are not yet entirely familiar. Given the reputation of krogan in Citadel Space, it is uncertain what they want or why they are showing any interest in the Equestrians, but apparently after being invited into the District by Director Fluttershy, they are refusing to leave.

Lt. Pyres is not pleased with this development, but maintains that his hands are unfortunately tied unless the krogan commit an illegal act, something they have not yet done. At the same time, our turian C-Sec representative has informed the Director that she is within her legal rights to bar and deny the krogan entry to the district, but would be responsible for doing so herself. Lacking in any form of private security, that leaves the Madam President to personally see to the matter.

It has been suggested that the krogan will eventually leave on their own accord, but there’s no telling how long it will be before that happens, or what might occur in the meantime. Twilight could also attempt to confront them and learn more about their intentions. If she isn't satisfied, she can try to get them to leave, but at the same time, their reputation for violence and unpredictability makes such a course of action to be a risky endeavor.

Running predictive model of Madam President’s reaction.

Leave the Krogan Be: “I don’t think we should risk antagonizing them.”
Confront the Krogan: “As long as they’re here, they’re a threat. Fluttershy, where are they?”

VOTING IS CLOSED

::Results::

To Clothe or to Feed

——————

Invest in Equestrian Essentials: 66%

Invest in the Greenhouse: 34%

====

The Worst Kind of Company

——————

Leave the Krogan Be: 23.9%

Confront the Krogan: 76.1%

The Madam President agrees with Director Rarity in that more high-quality garments would be more immediately beneficial than Golden Harvest's agricultural project.

The Madam President is convinced that the krogan loiterers present a threat, and is intent on both discovering their intentions, and convincing them to vacate the district.

Arc 1 - Conclusion: A Step in the Right Direction

A Step in the Right Direction

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 10 A.E.

Present location: New Ponyville, Third Level Observation Balcony

Status: passive observation

M.P. Sparkle deliberating on situation involving krogan loiterers

Twilight took a deep breath and closed her eyes. While she silently meditated on the issue, the pegasus, turian, and mech all watched her, clearly curious as to what she would do.

As it turned out, they didn’t have to wait long.

“We can’t just ignore a problem like this and hope it goes away. These krogan are an interspecies incident in potentia, regardless of their motives or intentions,” Twilight stated sagely as she nodded her head, her course of action set. “Lt. Pyres, would it be possible for you to maintain a discreet distance while I speak with them?”

The turian didn’t miss a beat, reaching over his left shoulder and pulling free some kind of white, boxy-looking device which immediately emitted a series of whirls and clicks. As the ponies watched, an extended barrel and shoulder stock both extended from either side of the weapon, and a round, elongated scope popped out of the top. In less than a second, the unassuming rectangle of metal had nearly doubled in size to become a deadly tool.

With a quick, practiced motion, Pyres turned the rifle on its side to make sure the safety was on, before holding it up in a relaxed posture. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Is... Is that a…” Fluttershy brought herself over the balcony and set herself down with a barely audible hum as the light yellow aura around her body fizzled out.

“A military grade M-97 Viper Rapid Assault Sniper Rifle modified to fire Type-V Riot Control concussive shots while maintaining pinpoint accuracy at up to three hundred yards? Why, yes. Yes it is.”

Fluttershy, Forty-Two, and Twilight all looked at the turian with an expression of concern.

“Her name’s Freya,” the Lieutenant added as an aside.

“Yeah…” Twilight spoke up first, amazed the turian had said all of that with the casualness one might expect from someone describing their favorite food. “Just… do me a favor and don’t point... her... at anypony just yet. I’m only going to talk to them.”

“Suit yourself.” The turian shrugged, but he still didn’t holster the rifle. “But if things get too rough and the krogan get out of hand, I’ll be there to put ‘em down.”

“Noted. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Twilight shook her head. “Fluttershy, let’s go. Show me where they are.”

Fluttershy looked between her friend and the suddenly more dangerous-looking alien for a few seconds, then lowered her head.

“Okay...” she offered demurely before moving to taking the lead.

——————

It’s always something, Twilight considered as she quickly trotted down the stairs linking the first and second decks of the district on her way to this newest problem.

But she supposed that was all just part and parcel of being in charge of things, and as she looked around for the cause of her latest troubles, she couldn’t help but wonder why anypony in their right mind would want to be in a position of leadership.

And to think, my day to day problems used to consist mostly of ponies forgetting to return a library book on time... Twilight mused before a prod at her side snapped her back to reality.

“There they are.” Fluttershy pointed with a hoof off towards the railings that lined the outer edge of the district, which was the only thing separating the floor space of the first deck from the sheer six hundred meter drop down to the inner workings of the Ward arm.

Following her her friend’s gaze and extended hoof, Twilight immediately caught sight of the problem that she had come down here to correct.

There were four aliens leaning and lounging among several large shipping containers that were standing near the railing overlooking the rest of Tayseri Ward. As she observed this race for the first time, Twilight was disappointed to see that all of the descriptions and references she had found of the krogan were spot on.

As Pyres had described, they topped out at around two meters tall, though one was slightly larger than the rest. The only part of their thick, muscled bodies that wasn’t covered up with suits of dirty-looking body armor where their wide, scaled faces, topped by a crest of hardened bone. Each one wore a suit of armor that matched the color of their brows, with the largest one sporting a deep, rusty red, the two standing at his sides colored mustard brown, and the fourth one displaying a pale shade of green. Their mouths creased with a seemingly perpetual scowl, they looked every bit the kind of rough, intimidating thugs that the rest of the galaxy painted them as.

The four juvenile (Twilight had to trust Fluttershy’s judgment in this, as she honestly couldn’t tell just by looking at them.) aliens clearly had no intention of moving on and looked quite comfortable with their looming glowers. This fact seemed to have also attracted the attention of one particular changeling mech, which was now standing squarely in front of the largest of the four.

“Oh... This doesn't look good,” Fluttershy whispered in a low tone behind twilight.

“Just let me handle this,” the Madam President told her friend, sternly moving forward with her head held high.

Down near all the commotion, the unwitting drone continued to deliver its emotionless directives.

“This unit requests that facility guests please adhere to acceptable decibel levels during the course of their stay.”

“I think the tin can is tellin’ us to be quiet, boys. What do you think?” the largest of the quartet of krogan spoke up from his place, sitting on one of the smaller packing containers as though it were a throne. His voice was low and deep, and sounded like two stones grinding together.

“Tellin’ us to be quiet. That's what it sounds like to me,” replied one of his brown friends.

“Heh, yeah. Me too,” spoke his like-colored companion.

Oh, brother… Twilight rolled her eyes as she approached the group. It certainly looked like Fluttershy's observations had been spot on: They were acting like a bunch of posturing colts.

Twilight could already feel the oncoming migraine.

“Look here, tin can. We’re just enjoying the view. That's not a crime, is it?” The foremost of the krogan huffed with an air of annoyance as he stood up, towering over the black mech even more so than he had been while he was seated.

“Yeah, is it?” one of his parroting compatriots echoed, although he sounded a little confused. “Wait... Is it?”

“Stand by,” the drone offered pleasantly as lights along its antennae flashed for a moment before answering in a slightly altered voice that didn’t match its prior inflection. “Affirmative. Citadel Security Code of Public Conduct. Article Five, Sub-section Six, Paragraph Nine classifies noises, both organic and synthetic, in excess of one hundred decibels as noise pollution. Penalties for violation of peace in this manner may include but is not limited to--”

“Drone: Stand down,” a new voice interrupted the conversation, causing the mech to break off immediately as it took a step back and away, while switching back to its pre-recorded responses.

“Primary Administer authority recognized.” The changeling withdrew, bowing its head as the four aliens took notice of the approaching Equestrian.

“Uh, Biggs...?” the fourth alien, evidently the smallest of the group, broke his silence upon taking notice of the purple unicorn that was moving in front of them.

“Well, hello there, little pony.” The apparent leader of the group, the one called “Biggs,” grinned, showing rows of tombstone teeth. “Are you here to take our orders?”

Twilight raised an eyebrow at the question as she came to a stop before them, looking up at the four towering brutes.

“Orders?” She tilted her head in a curious tone, hoping that she came across as merely questioning rather than accepting.

“Yeah, isn't that what you guys are all about? Hospitality and service and all that crap?”

Twilight ears twitched as she recognized a recurring theme that had been featured quite prominently on the previous night's interviews.

“Oh, I see.” Twilight shook her head, keeping her tone pleasant. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“Then get lost. Better yet, find someone who’ll actually come over and serve us. Or are the rest of you too afraid to even do that?” Biggs put forward, an inflection of annoyance seeping into his voice.

“Biggs…” the green krogan spoke up again, submissively addressing the largest among them, who was obviously the leader of this little gang.

Biggs sighed gruffly, turning to his smaller friend. “What is it this time, Wedge?”

“That's Twilight Sparkle,” the small krogan offered in a hesitant manner. “You know, the chief of the ponies’ clan.”

“How can you tell? They all look alike to me.” Biggs shrugged, although Twilight found the thought ironic, as she had been thinking the same thing about the krogan. “So you’re the boss around here? Well, don’t I feel special. Anyway, if you’re not here to get our food, then what do you want, pony?”

Twilight gave a forced smile as she resisted the need to shake her head again, feeling more than slightly reminded of the three dimwitted pegasi that used to bother Rainbow all the time. She found it surprising that there were still dullards and freeloaders even here in the heart of galactic society.

Diplomatic, Twilight. We have to be diplomatic, the unicorn reminded herself.

“Well, as your friend has already said, I am Madam President Twilight Sparkle,” Twilight introduced herself formally, hoping that she came off as genuine rather than patronizing before she continued in a more apologetic tone. “And I’m sorry to say, but I believe there has been some sort of misunderstanding here. I’m afraid that this district isn’t quite open for business yet, but I would like to personally express how grateful we are for your interest. You are more than welcome to come back in a few days for our public grand opening, but unless you have some other business here today, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

There, that was easy enough. Calm, friendly, rational, and to the point. Twilight felt confident that she had made her case quite well.

But then, Biggs emitted a harsh, throaty chuckle, which was echoed by his two still unnamed compatriots for a moment before he stood to his full height and crossed his arms. A gesture that immediately made the hackles on the back of Twilight neck rise as she interpreted the deliberate attempt at intimidation.

“And what if I say ‘no’?”

“Yeah, what if he says ‘no’?” one of the goons behind him imitated Biggs’ posture.

Twilight considered her options, analyzing the situation in front of her for a moment. She was quite familiar with bullying when she saw it, and that was exactly the image that she was getting from this massive reptilian creature. A big, mean bully, who was expecting the frail little pony in front of him to just roll over and do whatever he wanted.

Heat rose in Twilight’s chest as she found herself deeply offended by this realization and came to a single determined conclusion. Whatever else the Herd might be, it was not going to be weak.

Twilight pushed herself up onto her hind legs, standing at full height as she brought herself eye-level with the krogan and narrowed her gaze.

“I’ll persuade you.” Twilight’s kind tone fell, taking on a tenser, more demanding edge as her horn began to glow in a deep purple.

Biggs seemed surprised by this, but with krogan faces looking like they do, it was hard to tell. He then twisted his neck around, eliciting a thick cracking sound like the sound of tree limbs snapping. “So you think you’re a tough guy, huh? Well, if you wanna get rough, we can--”

“Biggs…” the pale green krogan, who was clearly more level-headed than his leader, got his friend’s attention again. “You can’t do that. They’re endangered.”

“Shut up, Wedge! Can’t you see I’m talkin’, here!?” the red krogan shouted over his shoulder. “But you’re right, they are in danger if they think they can push me around.”

“No, Biggs. Endangered,” Wedge continued with concern, though he couldn’t help but flinch when his friend shot him another glare. “You so much as touch one of ‘em and C-Sec will skin all of our hides.”

“C-Sec can wipe my ass,” Biggs huffed, throwing his arm out in a dismissive gesture. He turned back to the pony, whose gaze had not deviated in the slightest, glaring decidedly at the krogan.

For just a moment, the krogan was thrown off by the intensity buried in those enormous violet eyes. He shifted his shoulders in a manner that denoted a serious discomfort before he regained his composure.

“And what do you think you’re looking at, pretty pony?” Biggs scoffed.

“You get one warning,” Twilight stated fiercely. “This is it. Please leave peacefully… or else.”

“Or else!?” The krogan’s face broke out in a wide smile. With an exasperated expression, he turned to his friends, as if looking for confirmation that she was serious. “What? You gonna call your little C-Sec buddies to come protect you?”

“No,” Twilight said simply, never breaking her gaze. “Or else… I’ll be very cross with you.”

Twilight paused for a beat as the krogan glared back at her, her expression a neutral mask.

“And you wouldn’t like it when I’m cross.”

The red alien huffed in amusement. “The pony thinks she’s got a quad, but I’m not buying it. Listen here, pony, I oughta--”

“Ya know, Biggs… I think we should do what she says...” came the voice of one of the krogan’s goons from behind him.

“Yeah… maybe we should do what she says...” went the other.

“What?” Biggs sounded stunned for a moment before he turned away from Twilight to take a look at his two lackeys. “Don’t tell me you guys are scared of a…”

The krogans’ leader cut off as he realized that both his two fellow krogan were looking up. Their faces, displaying a certain degree of unexpected concern, were exact opposites of the smug expression on Biggs’. Especially that of Wedge, who was now slowly inching his way out from underneath a shadow on the floor.

Wait… A shadow? There wasn’t a shadow there a moment earlier. Something was off...

Wondering what on the Citadel had stolen his subordinates’ attention, Biggs slowly looked up as well, and in an instant, his smugness fell away.

Hanging over their heads, perfectly positioned over three of the four krogan and in a clear defiance of the Citadel’s artificial gravity, was a shipping container, plucked up and held steadily in place as if by a crane. But instead of straps or ropes, there was the subtle violet glow of dark energy along the bottom of the container, which, even while empty, had to weigh at least a couple of galactic standard tons.

Biggs swallowed reflexively, suddenly finding his mouth dry. Then, he tried his best to harden his expression once more, coughing loudly in an attempt to distract his friends from the obvious threat looming over them before turning once again to face the Madam President. She had resumed her four-legged position, though her horn was still lit in an identical color to the aura surrounding the container.

“Pretty impressive for something so tiny,” he admitted, folding his arms together to offset the fact that his voice carried almost none of the force it had held earlier. “Big deal, though. I could lift something like that, and I wouldn’t need fancy biotics to do it, neither.”

“Oh, really? Well then, I’d certainly like to see you try this,” said the unicorn, before clenching her eyes shut as the glowing motes of energy surrounding her horn grew brighter.

Biggs watched her for a few seconds, curious as to what she could be referring to, as nothing appeared to be happening. Assuming whatever it was wasn’t working, a short chuckle managed to slip past his lips.

“See? She’s just tryin’ to scare us, guys. She can’t really--”

*CREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAK*

The krogan was interrupted abruptly by a grating, straining sound that seemed to shake the very air around them. He looked around wildly, wondering where it could’ve been coming from, before his gaze slowly turned upwards...

*CRUUCCCHHHAAASSSSHHHHRRRRRRRRKKKKKKKK*

...just in time to see the cargo container suspended above their heads crunch in on itself with the ear-splitting shriek of grinding metal.

The four alien delinquents watched in mute awe as the rectangular container shrunk and folded inwards like there was a miniature black hole inside. If anyone had bothered paying attention to Twilight, they would have noticed her grinding her teeth as she struggled to manage her awesome biotic power, but she kept at it.

Several seconds later, that terrible sound ceased, and as Twilight opened her eyes again, she looked up to see that what was once a three-by-three-by-six meter solid storage unit was now nothing more than a ball of compacted metal only slightly smaller than the krogan staring open-mouthed at the display. Finding the situation immensely satisfying, in spite of her discomfort and the afterpain running through her skull, Twilight let the flow of energy cease completely.

*CLANG*

With a heavy thump that she could feel reverberating up her hooves, the rough metal sphere crashed to the floor of the district right at Biggs’ feet, and managed to snap the gang of krogan out of their dumbfounded stupors.

Unable to really think of anything to say, Biggs raised one of his three-fingered hands and absently scratched at his chin as he stared at the crushed container that obscured Twilight behind its presence.

“I was...” he managed to say after a while, with all pretenses of authority abandoned in exchange for a barely restrained fear. “...starting to get bored, anyway.”

“Yeah… nothin’ to do around here... Heheh...” one of the unnamed krogan lackeys stated in agreement as he looked around the district, wary of more biotic hazards.

“I just remembered I’m late for an appointment at the... gym!” The second goon nodded vigorously. “Yeah, the gym.”

“Alright, guys. Let’s move out... This place is a waste of our time, anyways.” Biggs waved a hand and stepped back and away from Twilight and the former cargo container, trying not to seem too eager to get out of this situation.

The goons followed suit, the group itself clearly moving towards the district entrance. For a few seconds, the green one, the one called “Wedge,” paused and turned around to look back at Twilight. Without saying a word, he nodded respectfully to the unicorn, a nod which she returned before the krogan continued on his way to join his friends.

“Wow… Twilight,” Fluttershy muttered quietly, approaching the Madam President from behind as Twilight watched the four krogan move away. “Just… wow… That was… Well, at least you got them to leave.”

“Leaving is good,” Twilight answered in a voice barely above a whisper as she nodded, though concern was still apparent on her face. “Never making trouble again is better.”

Twilight took a deep breath before speaking up, her tone almost sugary sweet. “Oh, Biggs!”

The krogan turned at the sound of his name, as did his cronies, to see Twilight grinning widely as she waved to them with one hoof.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your visit to New Ponyville, and please do be sure to mention us to your friends!” she offered, managing to hold her expression even as the krogan regarded her with a distinct sense of apprehension. “Although, if they have any similar ideas about causing trouble here, I’d be more than happy to offer another demonstration... and next time I’ll be asking for volunteers.”

The krogan leader said nothing, and neither did any of his friends, before they turned and started shuffling rather quickly towards the exit elevator. Not one of them dared to look back again.

“Forty-Two,” Twilight spoke up as she watched the aliens move away. “Tell the other drones to watch them at a distance and make sure they leave the district, but stay out of their way. I don’t want any additional problems. Notify me immediately if they go anywhere except to the elevator.”

“Yes, Madam President.” Forty-Two nodded, his own antennae lighting up as he sent the message.

“Twilight…” Fluttershy looked utterly horrified. “You just… I can’t believe you would have… But what about… How could you have been so casual about…”

“Calm down, Fluttershy.” Twilight stated gently, raising a hoof to place it on the pegasus’ shoulder before she started hyperventilating. “I was bluffing.”

“...Bluffing?” The yellow pegasus tilted her head, giving the unicorn a puzzled look. “But you just seemed so… intense.”

“Something I’ve learned over the last couple of weeks: Never let the opposition see you sweat,” Twilight explained with a sigh as she let herself relax. “I wasn’t really going to do anything. I just needed to show them I meant business. If my interactions with other species have taught me anything, it’s that aliens don’t always respond in the same way that ponies do. Krogan, for example, only really respond to shows of force. I didn’t need to hurt them to make them listen, I just needed to show them that I could.”

“Oh… Um... I guess that worked out much better than me just asking them to go.” Fluttershy patted her mane as she looked over at the crushed shipping container, surprised by just how much force Twilight had decided to show.

“Honestly, I’m just thankful that it worked at all...” Twilight admitted, nervously rubbing the back of her neck with a hoof. “If they didn’t fall for it... I really don’t know what I would’ve been able to do. At least Pyres didn’t have to use that fancy rifle of his. I definitely didn’t want to have to explain to anypony why he had to gun down at least three krogan on his first day of duty.”

Fluttershy nodded, suddenly putting a leg around Twilight and pulling her into a soft hug.

“And that’s why you’re the one in charge, Twilight,” Fluttershy offered with a smile. “I’m glad that you took their wellbeing into account just as much as ours.”

“Thanks… Although I really hope that this doesn’t become an everyday sort of thing.”

“But… there is something I don’t understand...” Fluttershy gave her friend another confused expression. “Doesn’t all this go against how we are trying to present the Herd to other species? I mean… I thought we were supposed to be nice to everypony.”

“Being nice doesn’t mean we just give other species whatever they want,” Twilight tried to explain. She sighed, finding that her legs felt like they were turned to jelly now that the tension had eased and she became aware of just how much energy she had expended for her little stunt. While lifting and then crushing the shipping container had been well within her abilities, it wasn’t quite as “effortless” as she'd tried to make it appear. “Especially at the expense of the Herd. We have to look out for our own interests too, and those four were just waiting for an excuse to make trouble.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let them in in the first place.” Fluttershy’s ears drooped, along with her voice. “It was a stupid idea. I already knew about their reputation… I just thought that... maybe if we opened up a little, they could too. And maybe we could be friends.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Fluttershy.” Twilight patted her friend’s shoulder in a comforting fashion. “Giving them a tour was a good idea, and it only became an issue because they made it an issue.”

At her friend’s reassurances, Fluttershy seemed to lighten up. “Thanks, Twilight... I needed to hear that. I just feel kinda bad for that green one... Wedge, I think his name was. He really seemed interested in us, and I got the feeling that he only goes along with those others because they push him around like that...”

“Well, if he wants to come back after we’ve opened the district, then he’s perfectly welcome... as long as he behaves.” Twilight raised a hoof, rubbing her chin in thought. “It might’ve been a risk letting them in and maybe it didn’t turn out perfectly, but like I was telling Rainbow Dash yesterday, we don’t live in a bubble anymore. We can’t just sit here in this district without taking chances like that. But we also can’t be overly aggressive and demand that things be done our way. The key is finding a balance between being kind and being strong.”

“So what you’re saying is... that in dealing with aliens, we need to be gentle… but firm.”

“Not so different from dealing with animals, is it?” Twilight smiled, glad that her friend was getting the picture.

“...I guess not.” Fluttershy nodded in understanding.

“Well, that was… unexpected,” came the familiar voice of the local C-Sec representative.

Both ponies turned towards the approaching turian, who had already collapsed and shouldered the sniper rifle he had used to view the entire exchange from long distance.

“My original assignment briefing said that you Equestrians were biotically inclined, but…” Pyres looked over at the crushed and perfectly orb-shaped shipping container. “…damn.”

“That’s nothing.” Twilight gave the turian a playful smirk, casually waving off the impressive biotic display. “I also play a mean game of chess.”

“That’s that human game, right? The one with the little pieces? Can’t say I’m a fan,” Pyres remarked, crossing his arms. “But I’d probably be up for a hand of Skyllian Five Poker sometime. It would be a real challenge to play against someone that actually knows how to bluff for a change.”

“How could you tell she was bluffing?” Fluttershy asked.

“I’ve been in C-Sec for over a decade, and before that I was trained as a Colonial M.P. Trust me, I know a front when I see one.” Pyres nodded before kneeling down to eye level with the two ponies. “Still, I have to say you handled that pretty well. Better than most stuffy Wards politicians, anyways. It’s refreshing to see civilians actually willing to try and fix their own problems rather than begging someone else to do it for them.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Twilight gave the turian a tired smile. “And I’m glad it didn’t come down to it, but I appreciate you standing by as backup in case things fell through.”

“Don't mention it. That’s what I’m here for, Madam President.” Pyres stood back up, waving her off. Much to Twilight’s satisfaction, there was a reduced level of disdain in his tone as he said it.

“Ahem...” Fluttershy cleared her throat softly. “Actually, Mr. Pyres... I was wondering, you know, if you had some free time, if I might be able to ask you some questions about how C-Sec approaches multi-species relations.”

“Madam President,” Forty Two spoke up, taking Twilight’s attention away from the two as Pyres answered in a vaguely annoyed fashion that he might be able to talk with the Director during his patrol. “The krogan have left the district without incident. Also, I should point out that you have a scheduled appointment with Treasurer Sterling pending.”

“Yeah… That reminds me, I’ll probably have to explain to her about what happened with this shipping container... Pretty sure we don’t actually own those...” Twilight rubbed her foreleg sheepishly as she looked back at the hunk of metal sitting on the deck. She then turned to address the two beings standing to her side. “I have to get to a meeting, was there anything else?”

“I guess not.” Pyres shook his head. “I’ll see you around the district, Madam President. You have my omni-tool’s direct contact information if you need me.”

“I’m fine, and thank you, Twilight.” Fluttershy nodded to her friend as the unicorn turned away and started towards the stairs, wondering which she was dreading more: the long climb up to the Administration level, or the actual meeting with Sterling where she would probably be complaining that they were running out of money again.

“Twilight…” Forty-Two stated in a low, worried-sounding tone as soon as Pyres and Fluttershy were out of earshot. “You weren’t bluffing… were you?”

The question was not so much a question, but a statement. Twilight frowned as she kept moving forward, finding herself having to swallow a bitter truth as she approached the steps.

“...No,” she admitted, more to herself than to her mechanical assistant. “...And that’s what scares me.”

*Updating Codex*

*Director Fluttershy: updated*
*Equestrian Rules of Engagement: updated*

——————

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 12 A.E.

Present location: New Ponyville, Equestrian Essentials

Status: passive observation

Two days had passed since the “Krogan Incident” and much to Twilight’s relief, it seemed that many of the investments and hopeful enterprises of New Ponyville’s developing infrastructure were beginning to smooth out. While this hardly meant that the Madam President was bored, it was allowing her to be a bit more hooves-off as those ponies under her supervision slowly became more self-reliant and sure of themselves, no longer requiring her input at every turn.

This growing sense of independence among the individuals and entrepreneurs of the Herd was of course being nurtured by the continued distribution of Sugar³’s first generation of omni-hooves. As Twilight understood from her last meeting with Vinyl, they had been (quite literally) put into the hooves of nearly half of New Ponyville’s population already, and production was picking up the pace as they worked out the kinks and brought more “associate technicians” into the fold.

It was a hint of good news at least, which was something Twilight desperately needed.

The decision had been made and the announcement sent out on the Citadel extranet that New Ponyville would be officially opening the district to the general public at the end of the next galactic standard week.

As much as she would have liked to have put off throwing the rest of the Herd into the galactic spotlight again, they literally couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Given the lack of returns on Applejack’s attempts to get into the Tayseri job market, their entire financial future rested on the talents and skills of the Equestrians as service providers and salesponies. It was a trait that Twilight was gambling everything on, hoping beyond hope that her kind had managed to maintain their knack for galactic commerce since the now long-bygone haydays of the Equines.

And given that she had overseen just about every investment made with the Herd’s startup money, it was all the more nerve-wracking as she toured the different businesses and saw just how much more work they needed, and how far from ready they still were.

“And last on the itinerary, Madam President: Equestrian Essentials,” Forty-Two offered, snapping Twilight out of her thoughts as she realized she had been walking on autopilot for the last five minutes, so absorbed in her concerns that she would have kept on walking past the storefront that was her destination had the mech not spoken up.

“Why is it that everytime I’m supposed to come to this shop, I’m filled with a sense of dread...?” she remarked, looking up at the bright blue holographic lettering above the door that read: “Equestrian Essentials” in a graceful, flowing calligraphy. “I just hope Rarity’s not still miffed about what happened the other day.”

“On that note, all changeling units have had their definition of ‘asphyxiation’ more narrowly defined.”

“I have to say, that was a new experience. I never expected the changelings would interpret a hug as an assassination attempt,” Twilight noted gruffly, remembering quite well how the Director of Culture had reacted upon hearing that her funding had been cleared. Her sides still had bruises on them.

“You were having difficulty breathing, Madam President,” Forty-Two pointed out yet again. “It tripped Changeling Retaliation Protocols. Thankfully, they merely tackled the Director rather than using any more drastic methods before I could disable them.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to know our drones will dogpile an overly happy pony, but ignore a turian with a drawn weapon,” Twilight huffed with a degree of snark.

“The firearm in question was incapable of causing immediate bodily harm to Director Dash, while you were showing multiple bodily signals of suffocation and possible internal trauma due to Director Rarity’s unrelenting display of affection. As it stands, they are only VIs, Madam President. Advanced, but far from perfect. You can’t expect them to be capable of making such subtle moral and social distinguishment,” Forty-Two related before he paused, giving the unicorn something she interpreted as a flat look. “And you’re doing it again, Twi.”

“Doing what?” Twilight asked.

“Standing just outside the door and stalling for as long as you can before going in.”

“No, I’m not,” Twilight defended herself quickly. “I’m just taking a moment to collect my thoughts and compose myself before I walk in on a pony who may or may not still be angry about--”

“You were wrong about the clothing issue, Twi. You really have to get over it and stop avoiding your friend,” her assistant told her bluntly.

“It’s not that at all! I just--”

The door to Equestrian Essentials opened on its own again, cutting Twilight off in mid-sentence to glare at her assistant. The mech immediately reverted to a neutral expression (or as Twilight had dubbed it, his "Move along, nothing to see here” face).

“Welcome to Equestrian Essentials, your essential stop for all things Equestri... Oh, Twilight, darling! Come in, come in!”

Rarity’s voice snapped the Madam President’s attention away from her insubordinate assistant and into the boutique, which made her jaw all but drop.

Twilight hadn’t been fully privy to what it was that Rarity had included in her purchases list, but she thought she knew what to expect from a shop owned by Rarity. Pony forms, enormous bolts of cloth, cutting tools and needles and accessories of every kind laying every which way in a creative mess. And on the counter, of course, would be the ever-so-vital sewing machine.

So when the shop doors opened to a clean, spotless floor and a sales counter with a single automated catalogue monitor, Twilight was surprised. When she took note of the grinning fashionista, she was astonished.

Rarity was wearing a thin visor that ran in a transparent strip over both of her eyes, holographic images clearly on display for the white unicorn as she looked toward Twilight. She was now dressed in a more conservative version of her original suit; an ensemble with the same black and white color scheme, but streamlined over her body rather than being overly form-fitting and showing off her ample equine curves as she had the night of the interview. To one side stood a large vanity mirror with several lamps and lights set along the side of it directed out to where somepony might be standing if admiring themselves in it, while the other wall sported several racks now hanging with what looked like several sets of outfits either already finished or very nearly complete.

Behind her, several bulky machines lined the back wall of the shop everywhere except for the opening which led back into the dressing room, with lights, monitors, and conveyor belts the likes of which baffled the intelligent unicorn.

“Uhhh... Hi, Rarity.” Twilight was taken aback as she stepped into the shop and around the counter. Her earlier concern at the fashionista's being angry with her faded as she tried to figure out why the clothier’s shop looked more like something belonging in a production factory. “I just came by to--”

“Hold still a moment, would you, dear?” Rarity asked Twilight as she looked her over. As the Madam President watched, a number of flashing symbols and diagrams swam across her friend’s headwear. “I’m still trying to calibrate this thing properly... Pinkie did what she could with it but it’s still using a lot of humanoid measurement models for... No, no... That’s not a ‘bust size,’ it’s a ‘barrel measurement,’ and I need it to be exact. Hold on, let me see if I can readjust this.”

Twilight was still gaping openly as Rarity’s horn glowed, removing the visor from her face and holding it out in front of her as she waved a hoof over it. Instantly, her hoof lit up with a series of holographic orange panels while she went about making her adjustments.

“Rarity... what is all of this?” Twilight asked hesitantly.

“It’s Equestrian Essentials.” Rarity smiled as she looked over a pop-up panel on her omni-hoof which Twilight recognized as a simplified code-editing program. “And I have to say it is turning out to be even more elaborate than I even imagined. Say what you want about Elkoss Combine, but a few little tweaks and an eye for detail and their baseline production model fabricators can turn out a quality form just as quickly as anything Kassa Fabrication makes.”

“Fabricators? I thought this was supposed to be a tailor’s shop.” Twilight gave her friend a curious look. “Where are the pincushions? And the measuring tape? And the sewing machines?”

Rarity looked up from the visor held in her biotic grasp and her still-working omni-hoof screen with a dull expression, before she burst out in a fit of giggles.

“Oh, Twilight... Is that what you thought I would be doing in here?” The fashionista was clearly delighted by her friend’s perplexed observation. “With all of this technology around, you honestly thought I would still be painstakingly hoof-sewing outfits for everypony in New Ponyville? Not to mention with a deadline of mere days to complete, all while trying to cultivate a galactic customer base, all by myself? I’m good, darling, but I’m not that good.”

“Uhh...” Twilight couldn’t think of anything to say, so she settled on a sheepish grin. Now that she thought about it, it did seem odd that even a designer as skilled as Rarity would take on such a massive order all on her own, creating designs for hundreds of ponies when six new, original dresses had stressed her to the breaking point back in Equestria. “Kind of...”

“Twilight...” Rarity clucked her tongue and shook her head condescendingly. Then, she looked back at her visor and nodded, appearing to be pleased with the results, before she shut off her omni-hoof and replaced the headgear over her eyes. “I may have been stuck as an analog player for most of my life, but this is a whole different league from the old Carousel Boutique. And if I am going to compete in the galactic market, then I’m going to take every advantage I can get my hooves on... Ah! There we go. Barrel measurement. Let’s see how close I was...”

“So what’s the point of all this tech?” Twilight asked, now intently curious as to what her friend’s new operation entailed, and grateful that whatever she was doing had clearly kept her busy enough to have forgotten about the “hugging incident” a few days before.

“For the sake of simplicity, these are all fabrication units.” Rarity motioned with a hoof to the combination of boxes and belts sitting behind her. “I won’t bore you with the technical babble like Pinkie would, but suffice it to say they allow me to take my sketches and designs, along with numerical measurements taken by this fancy visor I’m wearing, and fully fabricate finished models in a matter of minutes. I only got everything delivered and set up earlier today, but so far I already have several sets ready.”

“Just like that?” Twilight tilted her head, trying and failing to understand what Rarity was talking about. “It’s really that easy? Why bother opening a storefront, then?”

“Well, the outfits have to come from somewhere... and I rather like not having to pay shipping expenses,” the ivory unicorn explained. “And before you ask, yes, we were better off buying our own equipment rather than outsourcing our production to some other company.”

“Care to explain why?” Twilight deadpanned, wondering if perhaps she had been mistaken with her decision to deviate the last substantial portion of their funding to what may very well have been (as she first suspected) a vanity project.

“It all comes down to ownership, Twilight. Just like in Equestria, the world of fashion is a cutthroat and nasty business, filled with no shortage of competitors eager to snatch up what isn’t already theirs.” Rarity delivered this line like she was describing some kind of criminal underworld, and for all Twilight knew, this could very well have been the case. “By personally handling every step of the creative process, from research, to design, to our own in-house production, we ensure that all one hundred percent of my designs stays squarely in the rightful hooves of Equestrian Essentials.”

The fashionista paused, a sly grin coming over her face as she leaned closer to Twilight.

“Along with all of the profits... and exclusive licensing rights. It all goes to the Herd. Nopony else even sees a bit.”

Twilight, taken aback by this claim, couldn’t help but smile as Rarity’s enthusiasm was worn on her sleeve, clearly showing that her business drive and passion for fashion were still very much intact despite their new setting.

“That’s... great, Rarity.” Twilight’s ears perked up, showing her relief at this news. “And a huge load off my mind. To be honest, I was afraid that this whole thing would end up being a huge credit pit, but... Well, you certainly know what you’re doing better than I do. I mean, I figured you’d be in here twenty hours a day with a sewing needle doing it all the old-fashioned way.”

“I strive to impress.” Rarity returned her friend’s genuine smile. “Although the machines are certainly helpful and will do a vast majority of the work, my most ‘important’ projects will still be done by hoof the way they were meant to be. Which brings me to what I really wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Twilight tilted her head curiously as Rarity turned and moved into the back dressing room. Uncertain if she should follow, she hesitated for a moment before Rarity emerged with a box held in the soft glow of her biotics. “What’s this?”

“My second custom piece,” Rarity said with pride as she maneuvered the box to the counter in front of Twilight. “Go ahead, open it!”

Deciding the humor her friend, Twilight’s own horn lit up, easily removing the top of the box and revealing what was inside. It appeared to be a tightly folded bundle of thick, black fabric, but as Twilight took it out and unfolded it, she quickly realized that she had seen it before.

It was the exact same outfit she had seen Octavia modeling for Rarity days before, only now it was apparent that the ensemble was in its final, finished state. And from what she could tell, it had evolved drastically from the early design she had seen.

“For the mare who represents the best in all of us...” Rarity elaborated as she moved to Twilight’s side, she herself admiring her work just as Twilight was doing. “A suit fit for the Madam President.”

——————

Twilight stood before the mirror with a shocked look on her face as Rarity moved around her, checking seams and assuring herself that the suit fit perfectly.

Twilight had never considered herself much of a fan of any kind of covering, having been perfectly comfortable in the fur even after Rarity had made her scandalous observation in the live interview. After all, they were covered in fur and had their tails to protect their modesty, so what was the point of being embarrassed?

But now, looking at her reflection, Twilight found herself completely transfixed.

The mare looking back at her cut an authoritative figure, her collar and cuffs reminiscent of both pictures she had seen of Alliance officers and of Councilor Anderson’s suit. The material felt tough, but was soft enough that it didn’t grate against her fur or make her feel overheated. The soft black seemed to compliment her fur color perfectly and also gave the distinct impression of seriousness to contrast what she had heard one human refer to as a pony’s “natural candy coating.” The suit itself encompassed her barrel, forelegs, flank, and rump, but opened up underneath to expose her belly and leave her hind legs free, giving her a full range of movement that she figured would be hampered by the kind of form-fitting dress Rarity now sported.

Although she would never have admitted it, Twilight had often looked at the mirror inside her apartment and found it troublesome that what she saw looking back at her was the same mare who had been a simple, blissfully ignorant librarian a few short weeks ago. No matter what angle she had tried or how she styled her mane, she just couldn’t see a pony that was supposed to lead an entire species.

Not until now, that is.

Even so, there was still a feeling that she couldn’t help but voice, knowing from Rarity’s disapproving frown that she could see it too.

“I absolutely love it, but... it’s missing something.”

“I hate to admit it, but I do think you’re right.” Rarity nodded, moving around Twilight with an analytical expression. She ran a hoof over the seams and the fabric, trying to find the fault. “I’ve been feeling the same way about my personal outfits as well, but I just haven’t been able to put my hoof on what they’re lacking.”

“It’s something simple.” Twilight turned a bit, trying to pin the odd feeling it gave her as she looked over her now sharply dressed form. “It feels like it should be obvious. I mean, it looks right and it feels right. It’s just... I don’t know... kinda bland. You know... sort of...”

Twilight’s eyes, as well as Rarity’s, widened by degrees as the realization struck them both.

“...blank...”

*Updating Codex*

*Equestrian Essentials: updated*

*Cutie Marks: updated*

——————

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 13 A.E.

Present location: New Ponyville, Administrative Offices

Status: passive observation

“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little to no influence on society.”

That quote was attributed to one of Astrolia’s favorite human writers: Mark Twain. But while he was quite familiar with the works of the twentieth century Earthborn humorist, Forty-Two had never really given that particular statement much thought until today. Judging by the clearly improved mood of the Madam President this past morning as opposed to his earlier observations, he had to admit that the saying seemed to be holding true for Equestrians as well as it did for humans.

The hints were subtle, but nothing could escape the notice of his optics suite. The slight bounce in her steps when she was walking, the increased beat and tempo in the way that she spoke, meetings growing less frantic as she no longer had to rush to meet the ponies in person, now capable of taking vid-calls and messages via the omni-hooves which were still being distributed.

And the synthetic could not help but muse on what seemed to be the cause. It was amazing the effect that could be achieved with something so simple as a violet starburst emblazoned on either flank.

Still, the apparent lifting of spirits was dampened as the day went on, the breakneck speed of the last few days slowing and giving the mare time to actually realize how tired she was as she lay on the chaise lounge set up in her office. Though spacious, the workspace was sparsely decorated due to the fact that Twilight had not even made use of it before today.

There were still meetings to be had, but at least now, the unicorn had a chance to take them with a degree of comfort as the latest conference call drew to a close.

“I can see where you’re coming from and I appreciate your concern, Mr. Cake. But price gouging right out of the gates just isn’t good business sense,” Twilight tried to assure the master baker as she held her omni-hoof’s vid-screen at a comfortable distance. “I’m firmly of the mind that the more readily available our goods are, the better they’ll be received. We don’t need to try and make as many credits as fast as possible, what we need is to develop a customer base first.”

“I suppose you’re right, dear. It was just a thought,” the image of the older yellow-furred stallion agreed from his position on the other side of the wireless link. “I like to think our treats are worth a bit more than the mass-produced crackers these human bakers try to pass off as cookies, but I suppose it makes sense. And how many times do I have to tell you? You can just call me ‘Carrot’ now.”

The unicorn couldn’t help but give a tired chuckle at the insistence.

“That just doesn’t sound right. To me, you’ll always be Mr. and Mrs. Cake. Old habits and all that.” Twilight shrugged, hearing the sound of her new clothes shifting comfortably at the movement. “Although now that you have the ovens installed and working properly, you can bet I’ll be coming down to sample some of your new wares.”

“Of course, Twili... err... ‘Madam President.’ We look forward to having you.”

“No... it’s okay, really. It’s just Twilight to you. Some old habits really shouldn’t be broken.”

“If you say so, Twilight.” Carrot Cake nodded with a wink. “I’ve taken up enough of your time, though. I’ll let you get back to... whatever it is you’re doing now. See ya later.”

“I’ll see you this afternoon.” Twilight nodded in kind before a single thought shut down the vid-screen and deactivated the omni-hoof, a tool she was quickly growing more and more accustomed to using.

Now alone with Forty-Two, she had a moment to really relax, closing her eyes and laying her head down on her forelegs. As much as Forty-Two hated to admit it, in spite of her earlier good mood, she was looking utterly exhausted.

“For the last week I’ve just been wanting everything to slow down,” she sighed again. “But now that it actually has, I think that staying busy was the only thing keeping me from realizing just how badly everything can go wrong right now.”

“You’re doing an admirable job, Twilight,” Forty-Two offered consolingly.

“Yeah, admirable is the word.” Twilight reached up a hoof to rub the corners of her eyes, which were starting to become slightly red at the edges. “We’re bottom of the bit-barrel broke. Half of the Citadel is refusing to do business with us because of that ammonia-sucking idiot Kailer, and with the way we’ve hyped up expectations for when the district opens for business, if anything goes wrong with any of our investments, we’re more or less financially ruined.

“Twilight,” Forty-Two spoke up suddenly, his mistress’ eyes widening as she took note of the fact that her assistant’s antennas were lighting up, a visual warning that he was receiving some new information from his fellow changelings. “This may not be the best time, but...”

The Madam President covered her head with her forelegs like a filly with a case of the flu.

“Whatever it is, I’m not here!” she stated with a slight moan.

“...there is an elcor and a salarian arriving at the docks via personal shuttlecraft.”

That got Twilight’s attention. “Elcor?”

“The arrival is unscheduled and it does not appear to be a delivery. However, his profile is not included among either our known alien contacts or our files on Expanding Reaches personnel. He is approaching Seventeen of Twenty. Establishing audio-link.”

Twilight pulled herself up as she watched Forty-Two’s eyes flatline, the spiking in the feed surprisingly shallow compared to the previous times she had seen it.

“Hesitant query:” a flat, monotone voice that gave absolutely no indication of any emotion came from Forty-Two’s speakers. As was common with all elcor, their speech patterns necessitated the use of clarifying statements in order to express the emotional inflections of their words when dealing with other races that couldn’t pick up on their more subtle actions. “Excuse me, I am trying to get in touch with the management of the Equestrian Herd.”

“Please state the nature of your visit to this facility,” the drone at the dock stated while Twilight listened intently with her ears pitched forward.

“Prideful introduction: Yes, of course. My name is Etvon. I am the senior foreman of Tackton Construction Incorporated’s Tayseri Reconstruction Project. With genuine interest: It has come to my attention that members of the Herd have been inquiring about employment. My advocate and I would like to explore possible options.”

Immediately upon hearing the word “employment,” Twilight literally jumped out of her seat and walked right up to her assistant. “Forty-Two, open a channel!”

“Dual audio-link established,” Forty-Two complied with the usual burst of static.

“Mr. Etvon, this is Madam President Twilight Sparkle,” Twilight started, hoping that she didn’t come off as too rushed or desperate. “Welcome to New Ponyville. What can I do for you today?”

“Delighted salutation: Madam President, greetings. Mild surprise: I was not expecting to be speaking with you directly,” the elcor said. Although had he not explained his specific intent, Twilight never would have imagined him being “surprised.” “Impressed: Judging by the promptness of your response, I assume your mech units have a communal information network.”

“Yes, I am notified of most unexpected events in the district immediately via our drones.” Twilight explained, keeping a forced smile in spite of the fact that the elcor could not actually see her. “And to that end, my assistant drone has informed me that you are interested in doing business with the Herd.”

“Yes. As one of the few elcor-owned corporations with an interest outside of our own space, we too are familiar with the feeling of being passed over on honest work by other species due to physiological bias. Humble admittance: Your Director of Labor’s appeal during her interview was quite touching, and as a member of a herding species, myself, I can sympathize with your plight. Professionally: If a mutually beneficial agreement can be reached, we at Tackton are open to the possibility of co-involvement. When might we be able to schedule a meeting?”

Twilight’s smile was reaching Pinkie Pie levels by the time she completely absorbed what the alien was saying, and before she could even put her thoughts into coherent words, her omni-hoof was already alight and scrolling with the contact information of Fluttershy, Applejack and Sterling.

“Why wait? Let’s do this right now.”

——————

Forty-Two watched the final moments of the negotiations with Tackton’s foreman and his salarian legal advocate with a sense of pride, amazed at how the past four hours of tense business discussion, biotic demonstrations, and more than one argument (usually set between the Director of Labor and the Equestrians’ Treasurer) could have come to such a satisfying conclusion.

“Amicable: You drive a hard bargain, Director Applejack,” Etvon stated dully as he slowly lifted a forelimb. The orange earth pony mare took his cue, gently lifting a hoof to bump his knuckles with a smile. “But I believe this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership. With barely restrained enthusiasm: I look forward to seeing your workers in action tomorrow morning in District Nine-Eighty-One.”

“You’ll be impressed, Etvon.” Applejack smiled winningly, pulling her hat down on her head. “We’ll make quick work a’ the cleanup, and all without them expensive, high-maintenance liftin’ bots, don’t y’all worry.”

“Assuming, of course, that your workers are as capable as you claim,” Gean (Or, as the salarian had introduced himself: Rannadril Ghan Swa Fulsoom Karaten Tiar Egan Seay Gean.) countered with a clearly less enthusiastic expression as he shook his head, speaking in a quickfire manner that was a complete contrast to the slow, ponderous tone of the elcor foreman. “To use the human expression: Any horse can make a claim, and in this instance, I suppose that any pony can do the same. This trial run poses a significant financial gamble on behalf of Tackton Corporation. The sums involved here are not exactly pocket change.”

“And to use another expression, Gean:” Fluttershy interrupted, her soft smile belying the highly valuable observation and insightful manner she had used throughout the meeting to counter several of the salarian’s fast-talking arguments. “You are backing the right horse. Given that all five construction corporations involved in Tayseri’s cleanup are behind schedule and over-budget, it seems to me that reliance on conventional techniques and machinery have not been enough. Often, an unconventional approach can be just the right solution to unconventional problems. Besides, if it doesn’t work out, then you’re not obligated to keep us on after the first job.”

“And with our freelance contract paying by the job rather than by the galactic standard hour, you are spared the liability caused by possible delays with the actual work,” Sterling brought up, not even looking up from her omni-hoof’s screen as she continued to run over the numbers that had been presented during the meeting. “Just as well, Tackton will be spared any legal ramifications for injuries occurring during work by filing Sweet Apple-cations as a third party contractor working under its supervision. In short, you’ll be getting access to an entire workforce without having to worry about individual bankrolling or insurance liabilities.”

Meanwhile, Twilight sat quietly on her haunches as she watched the interactions. She was more than greatly impressed at how well the three very different ponies were working in concert, each using their unique skills to continue overcoming objections. From Applejack’s down-to-earth, everypony sensibilities, Fluttershy’s softer, insightful assurances, and Sterling’s hard-nosed, no-nonsense approach to the negotiation from an accounting standpoint had made the Madam President’s own presence almost completely unnecessary.

Although, she had to say, she enjoyed the opportunity to sit back and watch her friends, each in an outfit befitting their varied personalities, performing their duties so well.

The meeting having concluded, she observed as Etvon and Gean moved towards the exit where Sterling’s new assistant, the friendly-looking Pokey Pierce, offered to escort them back down to the docks.

A few moments after they had left and the automatic door had slid closed, Applejack dropped her professional mask and turned to the other three mares in the room with an enormous grin.

“YEEEEEHAAAAW! This is just the break we needed!” The earth pony reared back, kicking her forelegs enthusiastically as she let go of a desperately needed laugh. “Sweet Apple-cations is officially in business!”

“I wouldn’t celebrate just yet, Applejack. We don’t see a single credit until the job is actually done.” Sterling gave her customary frown, pushing her glasses up her nose as she remained transfixed on the details of the contract the four of them had just signed. “So we haven’t accomplished anything until your worker ponies have finished clearing this district. And given what I’m seeing here, a work force twice the size of ours is projected to take at least two weeks to perform the task.”

“Like Granny Smith always said: ‘Quantity don’t make up for quality,’” Applejack countered, unable to let the sour-puss grey pony’s criticism affect her mood as she shifted in her new “work duds”: a fully form-fitting outfit of brown and green with raised, protective ridges along her body’s natural curves, and multiple apple icons embroidered on each ridge. To round out the ensemble, a familiar triple apple mark adorned her backside. “All we gotta do is clear the streets and side-alleys of debris. When we finish up, we get paid and get our hooves in the door. And when we get it done lickity-split, we’re gonna have all sorts of offers from other corps for work contracts.”

“I know you’ll get it done, Applejack.” Fluttershy stood, revealing her own outfit, which was more flowing and gown-like than Applejack’s or Twilight’s, looking like a far more conservative and practical version of her Gala dress from inside Equestria.

The three butterflies that once decorated her flank had been replaced by a new symbol, the first deviation from her friends’ original cutie marks that Twilight had seen, and a sure sign that Fluttershy felt her purpose in life had taken a new direction. Now, there stood a design that Twilight recognized as a set of weighing scales, which she interpreted as symbolic of the advice given three days earlier in dealing with the krogan.

Given all that had happened to her timid friend since that fateful day when she brought a strange red stallion to her library, Twilight couldn’t think of a more fitting icon for the new Fluttershy. Especially since she seemed to be well on her way to growing into her new position as the Herd’s interspecies ambassador.

“Although you really need to be careful, too. We don’t want anypony getting hurt on the job, regardless of who eventually gets the blame.”

“Don’t you fret, Fluttershy.” Applejack nodded as Sterling finally turned off her omni-hoof and rubbed her eyes, leaning back and giving the Madam President a look at her own suit. It was of a similar design to Twilight’s, but in a softer grey than her coat, and more streamlined, giving her a duller, if more fluid look. Unlike most ponies, Sterling chose to leave her hindquarters unadorned, showing that she was either of the mind to reject the once all-encompassing tradition of wearing her talent on her flank, or that she simply thought the decal of a cutie mark was a frivolous addition to her appearance.

“Right, just leave the fretting and the credit-counting to me,” Sterling mused, actually managing, for just a moment, to crack a smile. “That’s what you’re paying me for, after all.”

“We’re paying you?” Twilight did a double-take, drawing a perfectly deadpanned response from the grey earth pony accountant.

“No, but it’s nice to dream.”

For some reason, the simple remark set all four mares laughing as they felt an enormous burden lifted off their tired shoulders.

“Come on, sugarcube.” Applejack offered a hoof to Sterling, an offer that took the mare a moment to comprehend before it was accepted. “Ah hear the Cakes have started bakin’ stuff down on Level Three. Let’s go get one a' Cup Cake’s cupcakes and see if they’re as good as we remember. On me.”

“I thought that the Cakes were offering samples of their first batches for free to members of the Administration...” Sterling gave the former apple farmer a sideways look.

“In that case, I’m buyin’ ya two,” Applejack added slyly as she started to the door, Fluttershy and Sterling both having to stifle a laugh as Twilight watched them leave.

One job. Hopefully a well-paying one if things went to plan. Now, it was out of her hooves.

Now she had to trust that the ponies she had to rely on were up to the task.

It wasn’t the end of their problems by a longshot. But it was certainly a step in the right direction.

*Updating Codex*

*Director Applejack: updated*
*Treasurer Sterling Silver: updated*
*Sweet Apple-cations: updated*

——————

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 20 A.E.

Present location: New Ponyville, Third Level Observation Balcony

Twilight gazed out over New Ponyville from her favorite spot on the third level balcony, admiring both the view and the scene that played out before her.

She found it hard to imagine that the spacious district, which had seemed so empty and devoid of life when she first laid eyes on it, was now almost full to bursting with activity. A dizzying array of colors and shapes, familiar and alien, milled about every nook and cranny; browsing the stalls, touring the facilities, and conversing with the locals.

The grand opening had been a smashing success. New Ponyville was constantly occupied with a steady stream of visitors.

It was everything Twilight could’ve hoped for.

“I can’t believe this is really happening...” she remarked breathlessly to her assistant, who was also taking note of the momentous occasion.

“Yes, it is certainly an event worth celebrating,” Forty-Two replied, before turning his neck to Twilight with a slight whirring sound. “And you made it all happen, Twilight.”

The Madam President had to suppress a short snerk and his observation. “Please... I couldn’t have managed one bit of it without everypony else’s help.”

“Even so, you gave them direction. And the results speak for themselves.”

“Yeah... I guess so.” Twilight was then silent for a few more seconds, before bowing her head and sighing dejectedly, which Forty-Two took notice of.

“Is something wrong, Madam President?”

“No, not really...” Twilight said with a shake of her head. “I just... I wish Shepard was here to see this.”

“Commander Shepard?” the mech asked for clarification.

“Yeah. I don’t know... It just seems like he should be here. After all, none of this would even be possible if it weren’t for him.”

“I’m sure he would be here if he could, Twilight,” Forty-Two reassured her, thinking back to their conversation with Councilor Anderson just a few hours prior. “Councilor Anderson did say he was still rather busy in the Terminus Systems.”

“Right, and a grand opening celebration is probably lower on the priority scale than saving the galaxy, huh?” Twilight remarked dryly. “I guess what I’m saying is... I want to let him know how we’re doing... That we’re all doing okay.”

The black changeling mech regarded her silently for a few seconds, his green electronic eyes betraying none of the slightly baffled thoughts cycling over in his digital brain.

“...Then why don’t you?”

“Hmm?” Twilight’s ears perked up, and she looked to her assistant with a curious expression. “What do you mean?”

“Twilight...” Forty-Two fought to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He didn’t fight very hard, though. “There exists something called the ‘extranet.’ I’m fairly sure you’ve heard of it.”

“Of course I’ve heard of it. I use it every day. Why would that even...” Twilight stopped mid-snark as her face slowly transitioned to a dumbfounded look of sudden realization. Despite her attempts to break herself of the habit, she found herself putting a hoof to her snout. “...Ugh... How could I be so dim?”

“In your defense, you have been rather busy lately.”

Twilight removed her hoof and smiled warmly at her assistant, trying to downplay her oversight. “Well, in that case... I don’t suppose--”

“I already have the Commander’s extranet address on file. It wasn’t exactly hard to find.”

Twilight nodded, then turned to once again look out at the rest of New Ponyville and the Citadel beyond, while preparing herself for something she had never imagined herself doing since her flight from Equestria. Something that, for the past two years of her life, had become nothing short of routine. It struck her that it was kind of ironic, in a sense, but at the same time... it felt right.

Unlike her speech before the christening of New Ponyville, the words came easily this time.

“Forty-Two... take a letter.”

“It would be my pleasure,” the changeling stated, standing by as his mistress peered out over the lower levels of New Ponyville and beyond, her gaze held by the vastness of the Serpent Nebula as she mulled over what to say...

——————

Dear Commander Shepard,

I bet you weren’t expecting to get a correspondence from me like this, but after the events of the past few days, I find myself thinking about everything you did for us, and I feel the need to at least let you know how myself, and the rest of us ponies are doing.

I have come to the realization that leaders live amidst a sea of difficult choices and heavy burdens. That it is important... No, vital to keep hold of every scrap of good news. To embrace every victory no matter how small. To keep going on. It hasn’t even been a month since we parted ways at the Presidium, but in this I feel that I now perhaps understand a small part of what you have to do every day.

Twilight paused, thinking back to her conversation that day with Councilor Anderson. How he had opened it up so casually, complimenting her suit and stating that he, along with the Asari Councilor, fully intended to be among the first customers of New Ponyville’s grand opening, although he alluded that Tevos would be treating it more as a diplomatic venture than a celebratory one.

As their discussion turned to other matters, Anderson had lived up to his offer, listening to the doubts that she could confide in nopony else and advising her to keep strong and press forward. He had shared with her about the still classified assault and victory against the Collectors’ base of operations, and the act of its destruction which had severed Shepard’s association with Cerberus permanently. How he was following various leads while he still could in the aftermath, trying to gather what intel he could on the Reapers while in the Terminus Systems.

From the sound of it, he made Shepard seem like he was always rushing from one problem area to the next... But she felt confident he wouldn’t be too bothered by one little extranet message in between missions.

To that effect, here is some news you may not have gotten out there in the Terminus. The Council, in their infinite wisdom, has granted us asylum and a place to call our own on the Citadel. Tayseri Ward is a decent enough place to build a community... once you ignore the ongoing cleanup and reconstruction.

Twilight tried not to grimace as she remembered her first foray into Tayseri itself when she went to observe Applejack’s work detail.

The district had looked like the aftermath of a war zone, which, according to Etvon, was exactly what had happened. Twilight had been made well aware of the events that transpired during the Battle of the Citadel, but it was a whole different story to see the burned-out husks of buildings and the broken down debris left in the streets of the inner Ward district for herself.

However, like New Ponyville itself, there was significant progress to be made; a fact that filled her heart with no small amount of pride as she watched her fellow Equestrians: unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies alike, working in concert and clearing away enormous pieces of debris whole, combining their various talents. Pegasi able to reach spaces unobtainable by any other species to cut free broken salvage for recycling. Teams of earth ponies hauling multi-ton pieces of buildings out of the way while unicorns eased their burdens. And several changeling drones both assisting with their sensor suites and keeping tabs on each working pony to ensure they remained accounted for.

Applejack’s meeting with Etvon, showing how the crew was at least two days ahead of schedule already, had then been interrupted by near-disaster as a helium-three fuel line in the construction zone ruptured, creating a short-lived firestorm that caught up a colt that had been working in the immediate area.

Thankfully, as it turned out, Applejack and Twilight’s terror over the accident had been replaced with relief as they learned that the tough-as-nails earth pony had only suffered minor burns, mostly due to his highly fire-retardant suit and welding helmet. Advantages that wouldn’t have been possible without the production capabilities of Rarity’s shop, lending Twilight even more assurance that her choice had been the right one.

It hasn’t been easy and it certainly hasn’t been fun. I admit I’ve made some mistakes along the way, and have probably worried over every little detail a bit more than is healthy. But three days ago, New Ponyville opened to the general public.

Twilight couldn’t help but smirk as she remembered the frantic pace of the VIP pre-opening, which quickly evolved into a full-on media frenzy. So many cameras following her lead, as she brought Councillors Anderson and Tevos on a tour along with various reporters and Citadel commentators. Both of the Council members commented (on the record, of course) their amazement at how quickly the empty shell of a district had been filled in and made not only habitable, but as fully functional as the Presidium Commons.

Then, the floodgates opened.

According to Forty-Two’s tally, there had been over two thousand unique visitors to New Ponyville over the first twenty standard hours, with many of the service businesses nearly overwhelmed as word quickly spread of expertly prepared levo-amino foodstuffs, a refreshingly light-hearted atmosphere, a unique take on what was considered a human-friendly cultural setting, and the nature of the Equestrians themselves, many of whom proving against Twilight’s wildest fears to be more than capable of handling themselves in the flood of attention.

There had been minor hiccups here and there, all easily handled by Pyres and Rainbow Dash (Although each claimed the other was merely getting in their way.) as well as a squad of mechs devoted to security. In particular, one attempted security breach by a confirmed employee of Expanding Reaches caught with various scanning and espionage gear drew some negative attention, although, much to Twilight’s relief, he had been kept out of the district itself until he was properly arrested.

It had been an unfortunate reminder that, in spite of the success of opening day, they were certainly not out of the woods yet.

And it was a complete success. One critic has even stated that, in time, we may become the new cultural hub of Tayseri. And while this victory is hardly enough to let us rest on our laurels, at least we now have a direction and someplace to call home. I wish you could be here to see it.

Twilight sighed, watching the ponies below her as they continued to perform admirably.

Craftsponies and entertainers, bakers and tinkerers...

All of them trying to apply themselves in these new positions and forge bonds beyond the Herd with all these customers and potential friends. Trying to assure themselves that this was their life now, and that they all had to work together in order to make something of it.

Twilight thought of Pinkie in her lab, now organized and given direction as she moved from table to table wearing her stark white lab coat like a mad scientist in an old human vid. Even without her coffee, she persevered in assisting the now dozen-strong technicians that worked to produce new inventions and improve on existing ones for the benefit of the Herd.

She thought of Rarity, building up a reputation as asari and humans took notice of her works. Fluidly inserting herself among her chic and elite client base as she began to take in a flow of alien commissions she assured Twilight would soon prove just how wise the choice to support her had been.

She thought of Fluttershy, now engaging in negotiations with several different firms that were rushing to ride the coattails of New Ponyville’s momentum, trying to sort the manure from the nuggets of genuine offers.

She thought of Rainbow Dash, still sporting a chip on her shoulder while Pyres continued to gripe and grumble, trying to do his job either with her or in spite of her. And of Applejack, who threw herself fully into the first project which, even ahead of schedule, still required time to complete. Hoping that their new business model would be enough to start really impacting the Herd’s income and give them the chance to expand even further.

Now that I watch my people in their element, I can actually believe that there was a time when we were indeed captains of industry and commerce. And while I know that your continued campaign against the monsters beyond the stars must be your first priority, I can’t wait for you to visit the Citadel and see what we are accomplishing here.

“...It’s too bad... Celestia and Luna couldn’t be here to see this...” Twilight lowered her head, speaking out a feeling she had been harboring for days.

Forty-Two’s optics dimmed slightly, moving up flank to flank with the unicorn and setting a hoof against Twilight’s shoulder.

“They would have been proud, Twi,” Forty-Two offered softly. “Just like we all are.”

“I miss them so much, Forty-Two...” Twilight admitted, her voice cracking. “I miss Ponyville... I miss Canterlot... Equestria... Granny Smith...”

Her head fell, trying to hold back the tears now that they had started.

“...Spike...”

“I’m here, Twilight.”

The mare turned suddenly, looking at the black changeling with a gasp as she heard that familiar voice... Not the ghost of someone she once held dear, buried under a jumble of digital signals, but the sound she remembered from since she was a filly.

“And I’m with you to the end. No matter what.” Forty-Two nodded, leaning into the mare with an affection impossible for a simple synthetic to achieve.

I never realized how much the little things mattered. Little victories... small blessings. The painful echoes of friends lost and the unrivaled joy of new friends gained. And now that I think back on it, I realize that I never properly thanked you, Shepard... for everything you’ve done. For all that you continue to do. For pushing forward and always taking the right path, not just the simplest one.

As she stood there with her number one assistant, looking out over New Ponyville, the Madam President of the Equestrian Herd couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.

It was not happily ever after. It wasn’t supposed to be.

She knew that tomorrow held new trials and challenges. It always would.

And whatever they were, she would face them. No matter what.

Thank you... for being an inspiration to us all.

-Your friend, Twilight Sparkle

===================================================================

*Closing Active Log*
-Archiving Establishment Arc-

Assets Acquired:
+ 20 Equestrian Herd
-Update: Given a new sense of identity and comfort around alien beings with garments provided by Equestrian Essentials, The ponies of the Herd have managed to step up to the challenge of providing a market to a vast alien clientele.

+15 New Ponyville
-Update: Following a rather dramatic demonstration of biotic prowess by the Madam President as well as observation of Equestrians elsewhere in the Wards, the criminal element of Tayseri Ward has chosen to stay clear of New Ponyville. Uncertainty as to the limitations of the average pony, coupled with their legally untouchable status and the now well-known threat of unrestricted retaliation if provoked have given New Ponyville a reputation as a beacon of safety in an otherwise unstable Ward.

+10 Equestrian Essentials
- Update: Director Rarity’s “vanity project” has already drawn several investors and clients from among the Presidium and Upper Wards. While this attention may simply be due to the novelty of New Ponyville, it has already begun recouping its own startup expenses as well as the cost of clothing the population of New Ponyville.

+20 Sweet Apple-cations
-Update: Director Applejack’s part in the Directors’ interview has drawn the attention of Tackton Incorporated’s elcor foreman: Etvon, who has offered the Equestrian Herd a chance to prove itself in the jobs market after the issue of liabilities had been dealt with.

Update: Pinkie Pie’s improvements on the omni-hoof have lended themselves beautifully to Sweet Apple-cations work as a new app suite has enabled ponies to perform far more complex tasks than previously thought possible.

Update: Clothing from Equestrian Essentials has already proven highly effective not only for style, but for practicality, as modern fabrics offer the Equestrians an enhanced degree of protection on the job, increasing the workponies’ morale.

Codex Update: Director Fluttershy, Equestrian Rules of Engagement, Director Equestrian Essentials, Cutie Marks, Director Applejack, Treasurer Sterling, Sweet Apple-cations

Arc 2 - Part 1: A Day Like Any Other

A Day Like Any Other

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 65 A.E.

Present location: Huerta Memorial Hospital, Presidium

Status: processing data

The changeling mech known as Forty-Two of Fifty stood still outside the red-locked sliding door of the hospital room, apparently watching the events unfolding around it with a blank, uninterested expression that was perfectly suited for an emotionless virtual intelligence.

To many of the organic beings milling about, alien and Equestrian alike, it was an enviable position: Unaware and uncaring of the uncertainties of life and the torrent of emotions that were still running high from the ponies being checked and examined by the medical professionals of the Citadel. Free from the question that plagued all of them:

How could this have happened?

But as only one Equestrian truly understood (that being the mare behind the door leading into the Intensive Care Unit), the synthetic intelligence within the black metal shell was anything but free from the impact of that question. Under the blank, emotionless front, an artificial mind unlike anything else left in the galaxy worked feverishly, poring over every event that had transpired over the past few solar days, trying to piece together everything leading to this point.

He should have seen it coming; should have acted sooner, more decisively. He should have taken appropriate action instead of merely standing by to accumulate more data. He had missed things… made mistakes… so many mistakes. Any being who claimed that machines were above such things was either an idiot or a foal. And their people had suffered for it.

And now he was here, standing still as a statue while his processes scrambled for intel, reviewing every record, screening every bit of data, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. His analysis eventually led him to a data-file archived in the wireless database shared between himself and his fellow non-sapient changelings.

His eyes’ lumination dimmed as Forty-Two became less aware of his physical surroundings, manually pinging the changeling in question over the distance back to New Ponyville.

*Establishing data-link with Ferris Series - 9 of 12*

...

*Data-link established*

*Relaying instructions*

*Unit complying; preparing to receive information*

*Transmission received: Hourglass Series - 42 of 50*

*Verifying credentials*

…

*Verified*

*Command received: Transfer of archived log files from index “Day 60 A.E., Hour 11:30 Citadel Standard”*

*Initiating log playback*

…

==Unit tasked with escort and protection of Administrator Applejack (EoH) outside of Designated Residence Zone 01: “New Ponyville”==

==Unit and EoH arrive at destination: Huerta Memorial Hospital, Citadel Presidium, via public rapid transit system==

==EoH enters momentary negotiation over cost of transport service rendered; automated virtual intelligence refuses negotiation==

==EoH pays fee; suggests to unit that charge of service is form of “highway robbery”==

==Unit corrects based on galactic definition of term; EoH retracts statement; expression denotes frustration with unit==

==Unit escorts EoH through hospital reception area; threat level: negligible; no hostility detected==

==Human Receptionist [Registered Identity: Blackwell, Rebecca, Nurse] welcomes EoH==

==EoH initiates greetings on first name basis; social pleasantries exchanged==

==Unit escorts EoH to hospital Coma Ward; arrival at destination: Room 56-B, current occupant: Hern, Patricia, Dr.==

==EoH inputs new directive; task parameters altered; Guard Mode activated==

==12:04 Citadel Standard; three human organics move into immediate vicinity==

==Identity confirmed, [Registered Identity: Hern, Joshua]; identity confirmed, [Registered Identity: Hern, Alexander]; third human unknown, uniform indicates medical professional==

==[Hern, Joshua] demands stand-down of Guard Mode; analysis of voiceprint suggests aggression==

==Authority not recognized; Guard Mode maintained; verbal apologetic selected and delivered==

==Hostility detected; upgraded to Confrontation Mode; verbal warning selected and delivered==

==Confrontation Mode deactivated, authority: EoH; Observation Mode engaged; threat level: burgundy==

==EoH converses with [Hern, Joshua], [Unidentified Human]; unit detects marked rise in EoH blood pressure and stress levels==

==[Hern, Alexander] shows acute interest in unit; no threat detected from human adolescent==

==[Hern, Joshua] orders [Hern, Alexander] to withdraw; human adolescent complies==

==Decibel level of conversation between EoH and [Hern, Joshua] rises above both Citadel and hospital regulations=

==[Unidentified Human] intervenes; forwards legal document to EoH via omni-tool data transfer==

==Alert! Unidentified malicious program detected in data transfer; malicious program intercepted and decompiled per Protocol 471, authority: Hourglass Series - 42 of 50==

==EoH assimilates contents transferred in legal document; zero viral infection detected in omni-hoof==

==EoH withdraws from confrontation; expression suggests displeasure==

==[Hern, Joshua], [Hern, Alexander], [Unidentified Human] enter Room 56-B==

==Unit informs EoH of attempted placement of viral program==

==EoH commends unit; definition of term “lying varmints” in conjunction with humans not found==

==EoH requests assistance; recording ordered to cease immediately, authority: EoH==

*End of log*

Though he was perfectly capable of experiencing the full range of emotions afforded most organic beings, frustration was one emotion in particular that Forty-Two could not claim to be very familiar with. However, this was rapidly changing.

Most synthetics wouldn’t even pause to consider the abrupt termination of information like the one that Nine of Twelve just provided, but as Forty-Two was not most synthetics, this fact caused him no small amount of consternation. He was concerned; upset. Upset at himself for being upset.

It was times like this that he envied his brothers, who if given a similar task, would simply search for the facts, present the information, and when the task was completed, detach from it entirely.

But Forty-Two was not looking for facts; he was looking for answers. And while it was true that he could start filtering through all of the sensor data that was stored in Nine of Twelve's primary memory unit in order to piece together the events that occurred in the hospital, given his current state of mind, it was probably not the best idea.

The Madam President’s personal assistant cut the connection leading back to New Ponyville and instead turned his analysis inward. As he began to correlate his own internal memory log with the timeframe of Nine of Twelve's absent data-files, he could not help but process a passing insight.

And things had been going so well that morning... the mech considered as he began to review his personal logs. How could we have known that it would so quickly turn into a nightmare?

——————

Archived log: 42 of 50 - Day 60 A. E.

Present location: Grocer’s Greens, New Ponyville market

Status: rendering assistance

Madam President currently in urgent administrative decision

“So... should I go with the asparagus... or the collard greens?” the lavender unicorn asked as she tapped her chin thoughtfully, her eyes shifting between the two labeled cans floating in front of her in an aura of pulsating lavender light.

“Neither option appears to have a significant dietary advantage over the other. Should it not be a question of taste, Madam President?” suggested her mechanical assistant.

“That's just the thing. I'm not sure what either one of them tastes like anymore." Twilight Sparkle shook her head as she continued to inspect the label on either can, each portraying an idealized sample of the vegetable canned and preserved within, under the heading of an Eden Prime-based distributor. "And after that fiasco with the daisies, I know better than to trust my own nostalgia."

Forty-Two, of course, remembered all too well the experience of which the Madam President spoke, having saved it in glorious high definition at over a thousand frames per second for slow-motion replay. That particular data-file containing her expression as she took a bite out a sandwich stuffed with the Earth-native flower gave him no small amount of personal amusement.

Apparently, the Equestria System had managed to approximate and simulate the general taste of a number of Earth-based food products. But as a synthetic himself, he understood that an approximation and the general understanding of the theory of taste did not always translate properly on the tongues of organic species. Of late, particularly since expanding New Ponyville's food import budget to include a more varied selection, there had been the realization of some “less than accurate” portrayals of the Sol System vegetarian palette that the Equestrians were still coming to terms with.

"Madam President, might I suggest that you simply acquire both so that you may sample each?" the changeling offered, amazed that a decision of this scale was giving the leader of an entire species pause. Especially after the brutal baptism by fire that Twilight had experienced during those crucial first few weeks on the Ward.

Although he did have to consider the fact that she could now spend time on such a seemingly mundane decision, and that it was a sign that things had calmed down considerably in New Ponyville.

“I could, but that would put me over-budget,” Twilight responded, licking her upper lip. "Ooooh, I knew it was mistake coming down here on an empty stomach... I should've gotten something to eat before I went shopping."

Forty-Two’s optics, by design, could not roll inside of his head. The best he could do was to shift the concentrations of light given off by their crystalline surface, but it just wasn’t the same.

"Madam President, as de facto leader of the Equestrian Herd, I believe that Ms. Grocer would be more than willing to let you have one can for free."

“Oh, sure. That's where it starts,” Twilight sighed with a small dose of sarcasm. “Pretty soon, ponies will start talking about how the Madam President is using her authority to encourage tribute from the local food vendors. And then it’s only a short trot away from--”

“Twi,” the mech started, his tone flat, but not in a mechanical fashion. A quick sensor sweep of the store confirmed the fact that there were no eavesdroppers present before he assumed a more casual voice. "Didn't I warn you about watching that extranet exposé on Citadel political scandals?"

"...Yes." The unicorn blushed slightly, her expression sheepish and clearly eager to change the subject. She hovered one can up above the other, as if only just realized that they were still held in her biotic grasp. "I’ll just go with the asparagus this time."

“And thus, New Ponyville shall sleep soundly knowing that the tyranny of the canned good dictator has been thwarted.”

Twilight gave the black drone a sour look as he delivered the line with a perfectly straight face as only a synthetic could achieve. “Forty-Two, remind me: You do have a mute button, right?”

“Correct, Madam President.”

“Use it, would you?”

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Twilight." The mech's eyes lit up in a fashion that Twilight had long since come to relate with a mischievous grin, drawing a small amused smile from his mistress as one can was moved to her saddlebag and the other replaced on the shelf of Grocer's Greens.

——————

The second level of Tayseri District 1286 (which had recently been christened “Mane Street” by the district’s residents) contained the vast majority of the Equestrians’ business interests and had remained the busiest area of New Ponyville since opening.

This was something that Twilight could certainly appreciate as she navigated her way through the groups of aliens and Equestrians alike, given a respectful degree of space by the latter while the former seemed genuinely confused when they recognized her and took note of the now-full saddlebags slung over her back, filled with groceries and a few other luxuries for her apartment.

Forty-Two, observing the curious glances of a nearby pair of salarians, considered that this situation was likely an oddity for most species.

“Madam President...” The mech started, his tone flat and mechanical as it usually was when the two were out in public. “This unit again inquires if it can assist in carrying your saddlebags.”

“That won’t be necessary, Forty-Two,” Twilight answered with an amused smile, nodding back to the black synthetic. “It’s nice of you to offer, but I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bags.”

In private, Forty-Two might have pressed the issue, but given that they were being actively observed from multiple angles, he decided to keep his concerns to himself.

To the citizens of most governments, their leaders were often portrayed as larger-than-life figures who were expected to leave mundane affairs like “shopping” to be handled by personal attendants. Such activities were likely considered “beneath” individuals of their high stations.

Twilight, on the other hoof, considered these simple activities as luxuries in their own rights, and that having the time to perform errands such as running down to the grocer’s for food gave her a much-needed sense of normalcy. And even when she wasn’t doing business, presidential or otherwise, the unicorn would often spend some time each day to browse what new goods the various shops around the district had acquired now that they had better established themselves.

Running over the numbers, Forty-Two had to admit that he was impressed. The initial burst of attention given during the opening of New Ponyville had generated a significant source of income for the novel new species on the Citadel. It was true that much of the draw could be attributed to sheer curiosity, but the Herd’s growing reputation as independent and hard-working individuals (along with a more personal touch as the Herd forwent the “low overhead” method of using electronic kiosks in favor of direct interaction with their customer base) seemed to be endearing them to many of the Citadel’s permanent residents.

While Treasurer Sterling continued to remind the Madam President at every meeting that the Herd was still indebted to a number of sources over startup costs, the constant flow of people and credits was enough to allay fears of remission at this stage. Quite the opposite: Multiple pony enterprises were almost constantly improving or expanding as the ponies grew more skilled and their clienteles became more diverse.

That’s not to say everything had been going perfectly for the Equestrian Herd, and as Twilight walked by the burned-out husk of the sales kiosk that was once “Gears and Cogs: Repair and Salvage,” she was reminded of just how true that was.

The events of the fire two weeks back had shown that, in spite of the Herd’s innate knack with technology, they were hardly infallible. This had been made abundantly clear in the case of Gear Shift: a younger would-be entrepreneur who had attempted to open his own repair shop in the district independent of Sugar³. It was unfortunate that the young pegasus’ enthusiasm and ingenuity had to be tempered by his overzealousness, and when his very first repair attempt resulted in a small explosion followed by a not-so-small electrical fire, it pretty much spelled the end for Gears and Cogs.

To everypony’s relief, Gear Shift himself was not badly harmed. The same could not be said for his equipment, however, and as a result of the incident, the colt had been strongly urged to report to Sugar³, where he could more effectively apply his talents under the careful tutelage of Pinkie and Vinyl Scratch.

Twilight couldn't help but suppress a snicker. It was a strange occasion indeed for a pony to be put under Pinkie Pie’s supervision in order to keep them out of trouble.

Unfortunately, her moment of amusement had to be cut short, as the mech at her flank suddenly drew her attention with a soft, digital-sounding ping. His antennae had meanwhile started to light up in a manner that Twilight had learned to regard with a sense of dread.

“Oh, for the love of... What is it this time, Forty-Two?” the unicorn asked, trying and failing to keep the annoyance out of her voice as she came to an abrupt halt.

“Unit Twenty-One of Thirty is reporting an act of vandalism in progress,” the drone reported mechanically.

“Vandalism?” Twilight tilted her head at the information, or rather, the lack of information. “Could you be more specific?”

“Specifically, Twenty-One of Thirty is reporting willful defacement of its external shell," Forty-Two related to her. “The situation is being marked as ‘low priority,’ and has been added to New Ponyville Security’s investigation queue.”

“Then why are you bringing this to my attention? Isn’t this something Rainbow can take care of?”

“The incident is occurring approximately fifty meters away from our present location,” the mech stated blankly, before he leaned towards the Madam President and lowered the volume of his speakers. “And you may be interested in the identities of the four perpetrators.”

That caused Twilight to raise an eyebrow. “Who are they?”

“...Take a guess.”

Twilight did not need to guess, simply bowing her head and giving the mech a resigned sigh. “...Let’s go.”

“Follow me, Madam President,” the synthetic instructed, a pair of gossamer nanofiber wings unfolding from his back and buzzing with an insect-like sound that lifted and propelled him down Mane Street. Twilight followed at a brisk canter, taking no heed of the aliens that were observing both the flying mech and the Madam President with great interest.

It did not take them long to reach their destination, as mere moments later, the pair was close enough to hear the childish giggling coming from the small, open space situated snugly between the Cakes’ new confectionery: “Celestial Delights,” and the Sugar³ distribution outlet. With the source of the disturbance confirmed, Twilight calmly slowed to a stop and took a deep breath while Forty-Two came to ground at her side, taking her lead before moving quietly into an alleyway.

The Keeper Junctions, as Twilight had learned over the last few weeks, were small open areas located between multiple buildings throughout the district which allowed the Citadel’s most benign resident species to access New Ponyville from the tunnels that ran the length of the Ward.

There wasn’t a Keeper present in the alley today, but what awaited her there instead was no surprise at all, as she made out the four small figures that had surrounded Twenty-One of Thirty, which was standing stock still. As she took in the specifics of the scene and realized what was happening, it was all that Twilight could do not to betray her presence by laughing out loud.

“This unit insists that you cease your current course of action immediately,” the mech offered in a neutral, pre-recorded tone that only hinted at annoyance. “Repeat: Security has been notified.”

“Ahhh, don’tcha fret none, Twenty-One,” Apple Bloom, the ringleader of these troublesome little fillies, spoke up around the thin paintbrush that was held between her teeth. The Apple filly was dressed in a plain-looking, loose-fitting shirt that hung off her barrel, exposing a good portion of her furry midsection before her flank and hind legs were covered in a set of denim-like trousers covered in small pockets. “Ah’m just about finished, an’ it’s lookin’ great. Jus’ keep holdin’ still.”

Twilight observed for a moment as the filly dipped the brush in a small can placed at her hooves, and brought it back coated in a fresh layer of stark white paint. She lifted the wet brush, drawing a dripping white line as steadily as she could on the mech’s curved metallic flank, and completing a fractional slash between the numbers “21” and “30.”

Apple Bloom nodded at her work with satisfaction. “Right, now let’s try ta get the other side.”

“I wonder... Is this technically a cutie mark or a tattoo?” Sweetie Belle asked, her back to the approaching mare and drone, both of whom could still appreciate the elegantly designed gold and ivory dress that covered her hind legs completely and wrapped her front legs and chest snugly. The frills at the fringes were a touch that made her outfit seem a bit overly formal for day-to-day wear, but then again, Twilight supposed, with Rarity being the one responsible for clothing her entire species, she could afford to make her little sister look like a vid-starlett.

“Neither,” Scootaloo told her friend, dressed in a brown faux-leather bomber jacket that was left open, exposing her barrel and belly with a set of form-fitting black trousers wrapping her flank and hind legs, as she stood on the mech’s back. From her position, it seemed as if the filly was trying to find a way to open the small, nearly imperceptible slit on the mech’s shell from which its wings unfolded, and was failing miserably. “It’s a serial number, isn’t it?”

“I think it all depends on if a changeling is a machine or a pony,” Silver Spoon spoke up, her tone clearly more worried as she stood on the opposite side of the mech from Apple Bloom. Silver’s outfit, as opposed to those of her partners in crime, was a duller grey than her coat, incredibly conservative, and lacking in personality, reminding Twilight of the sort of business suits she had seen on humans in the Presidium Banking District.

Judging by the way the filly fidgeted in her outfit, shifting uncomfortably in the all-encompassing, stiff fabric, Twilight hazarded a guess that the choice of attire was not entirely her own.

“Well a’ course he’s a pony,” Apple Bloom objected before patting the mech on the flank. “Ain’t ya, Twenty-One?”

“No, it’s not… ‘It’ is a robot,” Scootaloo argued.

“No he ain’t. He’s a pony.”

“Robot.”

“Pony!”

“Robot!”

“Neither! The proper term is artificial intelligence,” Silver interrupted, trying to correct both of her friends.

“Clarification: This unit is classified as a Type Five All-Purpose Synthetic Intelligence,” Twenty-One offered helpfully, still following the filly’s instruction and not moving.

“What are you, a dictionary?” Sweetie asked, amused.

“If required, this unit is fully capable of performing that function.”

As the four young ponies and their defenseless “victim” continued their intense discussion, Twilight was finding their antics to be slightly more captivating than she expected. Then, a subtle prod by her assistant served to remind her of why they were there, and she rolled her eyes at him before innocently raising a hoof to her snout.

“A-hem...”

The four fillies immediately went rigid as Twilight cleared her throat, calling attention to herself for the first time. It was apparent in the shock of eight very large filly eyes as they turned to the mare that they had not noticed her approach.

“Uhh...” Apple Bloom’s mouth went slack, sending the brush in her lips clattering lightly to the ground. The sound made her jump slightly, and in a panicked motion, she grabbed it and the paint can, pushing them behind her legs quickly and putting on a nervous smile. “H-howdy, Twilight.”

Scootaloo in turn, leaped down from Twenty-One’s back alongside Sweetie, the two beaming innocently while Silver Spoon hesitantly moved up beside them.

“Good morning, Madam President,” Silver greeted her with a forced smile, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary, which assured Twilight that the four were acutely aware that their current activity might not be so well-received.

“Girls, what do you think you’re doing?” Twilight managed to keep a straight face in spite of already being fully aware of the answer.

The four fillies looked between one another before giving a dejected sigh in unison.

“Well…” Sweetie started.

“We were kinda bored…” Scootaloo continued, drawing a hoof over the ground. “And Apple Bloom mentioned…”

“Ah thought it was weird that we couldn’t tell any of the changelings apart, so Ah thought maybe we could…”

“Are we in trouble?” Silver cringed, clearly concerned.

Twilight gave the three a curious look before raising her gaze to the mech, who watched with a blank expression in its blue-lit eyes.

“That depends…” With a single motion, the Madam President lifted a hoof and moved it in a rotational motion, which the drone correctly interpreted and maneuvered, giving the unicorn a proper look at the crudely drawn numeral along its flank. “Would you like to explain?”

“Well…” Apple Bloom drew out the word before huffing. “We’ve been tryin’ ta think a’ what we wanna have as our cutie marks, so Rarity can go ahead and put ‘em on our new clothes,” she said, motioning to her own undecorated backside as well as those of her friends.

“Yeah, and she’s already warned us that we need to be reeeeeeeally sure about what we want, since she doesn’t want to have to redo our outfits in case we change our minds,” Sweetie explained.

“And that’s what’s so frustrating!” Scootaloo fell back on her haunches and threw her forelegs up in the air exasperatedly. “After all the stuff we tried back in Equestria, we actually get the chance to make our own cutie marks, and we can’t even figure out what we want!”

Apple Bloom nodded in agreement. “So Ah thought... maybe if we helped other folks figure out their cutie marks, that might give us some ideas.”

Twilight tapped a hoof to her chin in thought before turning to Silver, who had remained suspiciously quiet. “Silver Spoon, didn’t you already have a cutie mark?”

“Yeah, and I used to think it made me cool...” Silver pouted. “But thinking back on it now, it wasn’t really all that great.” The filly shook her head before giving the Madam President a more determined expression, pushing her green glasses up on her nose in a manner that immediately reminded Twilight of Silver’s mother. “I don’t want a cutie mark that reminds me of what a spoiled, selfish brat I used to be. That filly doesn’t exist anymore.”

Twilight couldn’t help but feel heartened by the small grey pony’s sense of maturity about the situation, but at the same time, it brought up one item of note that she felt the need to point out.

“So, if I understand you correctly, the Cutie Mark Crusaders are giving away cutie marks?” The unicorn held a hoof to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Isn’t that a little ironic?”

“Oh, we’re not the ‘Cutie Mark’ Crusaders anymore!” Apple Bloom lit up, clearly interpreting the slip of Twilight’s expression as a sign that perhaps they were not in trouble after all. “We’re…”

Far too familiar with what came next, Twilight flattened her ears preemptively as the four fillies shouted at the top of their lungs.

“THE NEW EQUESTRIAN CRUSADERS!”

“I... see.” Twilight nodded, her ears perking up once she was certain she was safe from any further breaches of the Citadel’s “noise pollution” threshold.

“We’re crusading not just fer ourselves anymore, but fer everypony!” Apple Bloom followed up with vigor.

“We want to make New Ponyville a better place!” added Sweetie Belle.

“To make the Milky Way a better galaxy!” said Silver, grinning.

“Harmony for All and stuff!” Scootaloo pitched in.

Twilight found that the little ones’ wide-eyed enthusiasm only served to make her smile even more genuine, and it almost caused her to forget the original reason she had been brought there. A quick look at the still-drying paint on Twenty-One’s metal casing reminded her of that.

“And you wanted to start by helping make the Changelings easier to identify?” Twilight asked.

The four fillies nodded, and Twilight took a few steps past them to appraise their work.

“Tell me something, girls...” She smiled warmly as she looked back at them over her shoulder. “Do you happen to have omni-hooves yet?”

“Well, yeah,” the Apple filly answered for the four of them, lifting her own hoof, which lit up in a now-familiar orange holographic interface. “Everypony does. But Pinkie put a buncha child blocks on all a’ ours. So we can’t do nothin’ fun with ‘em like get on the extranet and stuff.”

“Well then, I think I just might be able to assist you in your latest ‘crusade’...” The Madam President nodded before turning to Forty-Two, who had to actively prevent a cringe as he denoted the amused look in the mare’s eyes. “All we need are some stencils, some omni-gel, and a spray painting app...”

Forty-Two got the feeling he wasn’t going to like where this was going...

*Codex Update*
*New Ponyville : Mane Street -Updated

——————

Archived log: 42 of 50 - Day 60 A. E.

Present location: Administrative Level, New Ponyville

Status: annoyed

“I do not like this, Twi,” Forty-two stated in a clearly displeased tone, the illumination of his eyes narrowed almost to slits as he turned to again look over the now-drying, royal purple mark on either side of his carapace. “Not… one… bit.”

“Don’t be such a grouch, Forty-Two. It looks great on you!” Twilight smiled, taking some good-natured pleasure in her assistant’s discomfort. “And now we can tell you apart from the others.”

“Is it not enough that my optical array is already a different color?”

“It’s not like they painted you from crown to hoof,” Twilight offered in consolation. “It’s not even a picture of anything. It’s just your name.”

“It’s a fraction!”

“It’s a sign of endearment.”

“It’s graffiti.”

“Just keep it for a few days… Who knows? You might come around to liking it,” Twilight stated, causing the mech to hang his head, his tone sour and sounding distinctly organic.

“I would bet Legion doesn’t have to put up with this...” he muttered bitterly, having never imagined seeing a day when he would actually envy Commander Shepard’s lone geth crewmember.

“ARRRGGGHHH!”

Twilight turned, at first thinking that her assistant had perhaps taken to venting his frustration in a more organic manner than she thought possible before realizing that the sound had come from some distance away.

Twisting around, the Madam President took note of her blue-furred pegasus friend rising off the deck and darting forward in the air, a look of contempt visible on her face even from this distance.

“Rainbow Dash? What’s wrong?” Twilight called out, sounding somewhat concerned as she flagged down the pegasus, who grunted upon noticing her, but banked to bring herself around and stopped in midair a short distance from the unicorn.

Rainbow was dressed in the antique fashion of a human-designed bomber jacket that had become her standard attire, her barrel and chest exposed and a thin set of black leggings along her back legs. The jacket had two large slits cut into the back for her wings, a short layer of fluffy white cotton around the collar, and along the waist on either side was a familiar multicolored lightning bolt. It was almost exactly like an adult-sized variant of the sort of dress Scootaloo was now wearing, and it was clear where the impressionable filly had gotten her inspiration from.

Her wings flapping lazily as she held her position, the faint cyan glow of her biotic field encased Rainbow and kept her afloat in defiance of the Citadel’s artificial gravity as she vented her frustrations at her unicorn friend.

“What’s wrong? Apparently I’m wrong. I’m always wrong!” The pegasus animatedly threw her hooves around in the air before jabbing one leg in the direction of the Security Office. “I’m done! I can’t work with Mister Sensitive anymore! That bird-brain won’t let anything slide and is constantly riding me like he’s a stallion and I’m in sea--”

“Rainbow!” Twilight admonished the pegasus before she could finish that sentence, surprised at the crassness of her friend’s language while trying to force away the unpleasant imagery it brought up. “I thought you and Lt. Pyres were trying to get along.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve tried, Twilight. But it’s impossible! For two months he’s done nothing but tell me how to do my job, and I’ve had it up to here with him!” Rainbow raised a foreleg, planting her hoof right at the tips of her ears. “I can’t see why you even keep him around!”

“Because he’s good at what he does,” Twilight answered flatly, her own good mood souring as Rainbow’s irritation began to rub off on her. “And we need him here.”

“Oh, so you’re taking his side?”

“I’m not taking anypony’s side, Dash!” Twilight’s tone grew firmer, a warning sign that the pegasus recognized as she crossed her forelegs with an angry scowl.

“He is not a pony!”

“That’s not the point!”

“Alright! I get it! I guess I’m just not good enough for either of you!” Rainbow snarled, turning and darting several meters away before turning back over her shoulder. “I’m going on patrol! By all means, go tell your turian buddy so he can stop by and tell me that I’m not breathing correctly!”

Before the unicorn could respond, Rainbow Dash reared back and propelled herself forward, a distinct sound of a biotic surge filling the air before she sped over the edge of the level and down out of sight.

With a frustrated sigh, Twilight turned to Forty-Two, whose own complaints had fallen silent with the introduction of a new issue that had to be swiftly dealt with.

“Come on, Forty-Two.” Twilight grimaced, starting back towards the apartment she had hoped to spend the rest of the day relaxing in. A simple desire that had now been thrown aside. “Let’s go drop off these groceries, and then it looks like we’re back on the clock.”

——————

Archived log: 42 of 50 - Day 60 A. E.

Present location: New Ponyville Security Office, Administrative Level

Status: passive observation

There was no door to the C-Sec office, just an open archway; something that had originally struck Twilight as odd, considering the Administrative Building tended to put as many doors between the outside and the actual working offices of the district’s VIPs as possible.

The Security Building itself had not changed much in the few days that had passed since Twilight’s last weekly security briefing, although she never quite got over the dichotomy of the office. On one side, immediately apparent as she and Forty-Two entered, was a spartan, undecorated wall with a plain-looking desk facing the doorway. Behind that desk, his six fingers flying over a holographic keyboard at a frenzied pace, sat the turian she had been expecting. However, next to his computer sat a surprising new addition to the turian’s workspace: a basket filled with what looked like various pastries and baked goods, accompanied by a small card that bore the stylized sun logo of Celestial Delights.

Holding back for a moment to be recognized as the turian continued his fervent typing, Twilight took a look to the left, taking in the side of the office hidden from public view, where Rainbow’s workstation was located. Rather than a chair, a chaise lounge more suited to a pony’s shape took up most of the space, and on the desktop itself, over a dozen thin datapads were strewn about, indicating that the pegasus had remained busy, but disorganized. Also unlike Pyres’, there were several small objects decorating its surface next to the desk terminal, chiefly among them being a couple of framed holographic image displays. Though she couldn’t see them from this angle, the Madam President already knew what they showed.

They were a portrait of herself and the other Directors, taken several weeks ago during the Grand Opening of New Ponyville, and a picture of Rainbow and Scootaloo together, grinning widely as they showed off their matching attire. Next to the photos was a small metal trinket: a six inch-long brass model of the Normandy SR-2, sent to Rainbow courtesy of the very first friend she had made outside of the Equestria Simulation.

“Madam President.” Pyres nodded, his tone pleasant, but not looking up from his screen as he brought her attention back to the present. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh…” Twilight paused, noticing that the turian still wasn’t looking at her, his focus squarely on the holographic monitor in front of him. The unicorn grimaced, shifting her body language to a more aggressive stance as she approached the turian’s desk. “Well, absolutely nothing until I can get your full attention.”

At this, Pyres ceased his typing and turned to take note of her, blinking for a moment as his mandibles twitched.

“...Fair enough.” The turian officer sighed, pressing one last button as his console emitted a ping. “Just catching up on some reports; nothing too important.”

Twilight was surprised by the turian’s upbeat-sounding tone as he folded his hands together, but not ungrateful as she let go of a huff. She had half-expected Pyres to begin ranting about “that pony” as soon as she had walked in, so the thought that perhaps they could discuss this like civil beings was a very welcome surprise.

“I was hoping to talk to you about the Director,” Twilight started, hoping that the amicable atmosphere could be maintained. “I ran into her a few minutes ago, and she seemed... upset.”

“Yes.” Pyres nodded in agreement.

A bit annoyed by the lack of elaboration, Twilight decided to try prying more directly. “I was hoping maybe you could tell me why.”

“She doesn’t take criticism well,” the turian explained, standing up and stretching. “That pony’s fuse has gotten shorter and shorter every day. It’s gotten to the point where any wayward comment is enough to set her on the defensive. To her, everything I say comes out as an insult.”

“You’re supposed to be giving her lessons in C-Sec protocols, not pointing out how wrong she is about every decision she makes.”

“From where I’m standing, there isn’t much of a difference,” Pyres put it bluntly with a hint of disappointment. “It was going pretty smoothly for a while after the last time you talked to her, but after I got done giving her the basic lessons, she started tuning me out. Said she ‘doesn’t have time for the formal stuff.’ But I can see the real reason. She just doesn’t like me. Hasn’t ever since the day we met.”

“Hmph... I wonder why that is...” Twilight muttered sarcastically, just barely loud enough for him to hear. “Still, would it really hurt to be a little nicer to her?” she suggested.

“You didn’t ask me to be nice. You asked me to teach her how to do her job properly, and I can’t do that if she doesn’t want to listen to me.” Pyres cast his arm out, motioning to the clutter of datapads on Rainbow’s workstation. “Instead of accepting what I have to say, she thinks she can get by reading up on the rent-a-cop garbage put out by Elanus Risk Control and other ‘security’ firms, like she’s studying for some kind of test or something. This morning I tried to explain the ‘issues’ of learning security literally by the book and… well… let’s just say that pony has a set of lungs on her that would have made my old Drill Sergeant proud.”

“I… see.” Twilight nodded, cringing internally. “Well, at least you seem to be taking it in stride.”

“Oh, she was annoying as all hell at first.” Pyres shook his head, chuckling. “You see recruits like that sometimes, both in C-Sec and in the Palaven Colonial Military. Hotshots who think they know it all; who think they’re the hero in their own personal action-vid. Half of the time, they get the sense kicked into them when they realize that the real world doesn’t forgive stupidity.”

“...And the other half of the time?”

“They get themselves killed. Simple as that.”

Twilight couldn’t mask the gulp she had at the thought, her vivid imagination suddenly playing a horrific image of Rainbow Dash, charging at full speed into a squad of armed thugs… with a nightmarish result.

“That being said... I really do hope she wises up,” Pyres continued. “She’s green as grass, no pun intended, but I can’t deny she has potential.”

“Really?” Twilight found herself surprised yet again. “After all that, you’re still willing to put up with her?”

“Professionally we have… issues. But I have nothing against her personally. In fact, I admire her dedication. That being said, if she acts like an idiot, I’m going to tell her so to her face. If she wants to be taken seriously, then I’m not going to coddle her.” The brusque turian crossed his arms together, ready to make his final point. “And if she can just learn not to let her feelings get in the way of her judgment, maybe, just maybe, she’ll live to see the day when she gets the sense kicked into her.”

Twilight was silent for a moment, absorbing his words and trying to think of a rebuttal where her friend was concerned. In this case, however, she saw no choice but to defer to the turian who knew more about what he was saying than she herself could claim to.

“Thank you, Lieutenant... I think I understand. I’ll see if I can talk to her about this,” the unicorn started, intending for that to be the final say in the matter. She paused, though, when her eyes once again fell on the basket sitting on Pyres’ desk. “By the way... I’m sorry, but I just have to ask. What’s with the basket?”

“It was a... present from the two ponies who own the bakery down on Level Two,” the turian huffed, following her eyes. “The card said it was to thank me for all my hard work on behalf of the shop owners.”

“Awww, that was sweet of them.” Twilight smiled warmly at the thought.

“Honestly? I’m getting mixed signals here.” Pyres shook his head with some amusement. “I’m not sure what to make of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, sending your local security officer a basket full of baked goods is all very quaint. It’s just a little difficult to figure out what to do when he can’t actually eat any of them.”

“Oh…? Ooooohh…” Twilight tilted her head in confusion for a moment before she caught on to the meaning of Pyres’ statement. She suddenly remembered that the Turians were a species biologically based on dextro amino-acids, unlike most of the galaxy (her own kind included) who were levo amino. In short, what was a tasty treat for a pony, human, or asari, might as well have been a sweet smelling, edible grenade to a turian. “It’s the thought that counts... right?”

“Sure… assuming they were just unaware of that fact.” Pyres shrugged, keeping a straight face. (Or at least, she thought so. Turians were hard for her to get a read on). “Either that, or they were intending to put me in the hospital. But in this case, I think I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.”

“That would be appreciated.” Twilight grinned, back-stepping away from the officer’s desk. “In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do about Rainbow; get her to listen to reason.”

“Yeah, good luck with that. I’ll be here, not holding my breath.”

With that, Twilight turned to leave the Security Office, trying to hide a slightly smug grin as she held onto a private observation.

Sure, the Cakes had messed up and given him a basket full of poison, but she didn’t see him throwing it away, either.

*Codex Update*
*Lieutenant Taxar Pyers - Updated

——————

Archived log: 42 of 50 - Day 60 A. E.

Present location: M.P. Sparkle’s Apartment, New Ponyville

Status: idle

Even though one could not tell from the lighting of the general area, as the Wards were always cast in the bright glow from the Serpent Nebula, the relative quiet of New Ponyville at the present was evidence enough that it was now the seventeenth hour of the solar day. By now, the Equestrians’ business interests had (for the most part) entered what had been designated as the district’s “dim cycle,” and had closed their doors for the evening. It was an aesthetic choice made out of necessity rather than preference that New Ponyville hold a general hours of operation schedule, which, thankfully, most of the Citadel’s other residents could understand. After all, given their limited resources, they couldn’t be expected to keep pace with the “station that never sleeps” attitude of the other Wards.

And Forty-Two, for one, was grateful for the calm.

The Madam President had at last been given a chance to relax for the rest of her active “day cycle” following her brief meeting with Lt. Pyres. The discussion with Director Dash over the issues that had arisen had been put off until the next day, when it was hoped that a good night’s sleep would serve to put Rainbow in a better mood for talking. Forty-Two doubted this would be the case, but there was no sense in rushing what was a relatively minor issue.

Aside from that, it had been a peaceful night in for the Madam President. She took the opportunity to fix herself some dinner with the groceries she had bought, and when that failed spectacularly, she had Forty-Two order something pre-made from the diner on Level Three instead. While Twilight’s executive skills had improved since becoming leader of the Herd, it was safe to say her cooking skills had not.

The rest of the night was spent watching a few interesting specials on the extranet, followed by the Madam President’s ultimate pastime: reading. Even outside of Equestria, Twilight still loved nothing more than time to herself with a nice, thick book, as evidenced by the steadily growing collection of real, physical literature adorning the shelves of her apartment.

And then, when she just couldn’t bear to keep her eyes open any longer, Twilight finally allowed herself to slip quietly beneath the covers of her bed, falling into a deep, comforting sleep the likes of which she found becoming ever more frequent as the days went by. No interruptions, no nerve-wracking decisions, no incredible burdens to bear. New Ponyville was quiet.

Looking back on it now, Forty-Two should have predicted it was too good to last.

The Madam President had been asleep for little more than an hour when Forty-Two received the first report from the New Ponyville Docks of a new arrival via public transport shuttle. This hadn’t exactly been an unusual occurrence since the grand opening, despite the time. There were always a few visitors whose schedules were a polar opposite to New Ponyville’s and were unaware that, unlike most districts, there was a set timeframe of operation. These people were often asked to return in the morning, or informed of what establishments were still catering to customers regardless of the late hour.

And like the many other drone reports issued, Forty-Two gave this one a customary examination in order to keep himself preoccupied during the hours in which his services were not needed by his mistress. It served as a suitable distraction from other files which had a tendency to open unintentionally when he was otherwise idle.

On a whim, he pinged the mech that had sent him the report, taking note of the events currently unfolding as Four of Ten allowed him access to its running logs.

==Location: New Ponyville Docking Area; status: Observation Mode==

==19:32 Citadel Standard; logging unscheduled shuttle arrival==

==Vehicle identified: [Citadel Rapid Transit TW-3827]==

==Occupant emerging: [Registered Identity: Administrator Applejack (EoH)]==

That certainly grabbed Forty-Two’s attention, as he opened a video feed with the relatively nearby drone and observed the orange mare as she clambered awkwardly out of the transport that had clearly been built and intended for bipeds.

The only reason this was a notable occurrence was because Director Applejack was over seven hours late for her scheduled return from Huerta Memorial Hospital. Of course, there was never any cause for alarm, as the Director had made sure to deliver steady updates on her situation through the mech that accompanied her, having explained her tardiness with the excuse that personal matters had arisen that had delayed her return.

Everything had been in order with Nine of Twelve’s reports, and given that the Director of Labor had just as much of a right to some privacy as the Madam President herself, Forty-Two had seen no reason to pursue the issue.

Twilight’s Number One Assistant was just about to close the vid-link and resume his duties, when Applejack suddenly and unexpectedly made a beeline right towards Four of Ten.

“Hey, you. Stop recordin’. That’s an order,” Applejack told the drone sternly.

The last thing Forty-Two heard was a monotone “Administrator authority recognized,” before the feed cut out completely, followed by a harsh burst of static. A few seconds later, his wireless connection with Four of Ten was also likewise severed, leaving him blind and absolutely stunned by this sudden turn of events before he quickly recovered.

Acting fast, Forty-Two tried again to connect with the drone, but in spite of his hierarchical authority over his fellow changelings, he was denied access this time around. The direct verbal command of an organic administrator was simply beyond his ability to override. Scrambling for information, the mech attempted to contact Six of Ten, Four of Ten’s “series sibling” and the only other changeling that had been assigned to watch over the docks, only to be met with a similar result.

Finally, (and Forty-Two doubted he would get anywhere this time), he wirelessly pinged Nine of Twelve, the mech that was currently charged with escorting the Director. As he expected, and much to his frustration, he was met with the same message given by both Four and Six.

==Access Denied; authority: EoH==

It took approximately three-point-seven seconds for Forty-Two to puzzle over why the Director would possibly want to disable these three mechs’ surveillance and monitoring protocols before he decided to change tactics, and opened a connection with another unit that he knew would not yet have been compromised.

*Establishing data-link with Longhaul Series - 17 of 20*

...

*Data-link established*
*Relaying instructions*
*Unit complying*

Outside the Madam President’s apartment complex, all the way down on Level Two of New Ponyville, Seventeen of Twenty suddenly diverted from its patrol routine, having been given a new directive by Forty-Two. The mech stopped in mid-stride and instantly propelled itself upwards with its nanofiber wings, intent on locating the exact whereabouts of Director Applejack. With his birds-eye view of the entire district, Forty-Two did not need to wait long, and in less than a minute he was receiving real-time audio and visual updates on the Director... and her cargo.

After taking five seconds to confirm just what exactly he was looking at, Forty-Two released Seventeen of Twenty as his processors went into overdrive.

Extranet connection established

Accessing Huerta Memorial Hospital Archives

Alert: Security clearance required for access

*Initiating system bypass*
*Neutralizing safeguards*

...

*Safeguards neutralized*
*Tracing system root path*
*Decrypting information*

...

Welcome, Administrator Umbato

Fetching Patient Records: Hern, Patricia...

Fetching Daily Arrival/Departure Logs...

Fetching Archived Security Footage... (Error - Files not found)

Logging out

Forty-Two could scarcely believe what his own investigation was telling him... but what evidence he could piece together was nothing short of damning in its implications. One thing was for sure, though: The Madam President was not going to be happy about this.

Reluctantly, the mech opened a connection to his mistress’ omni-hoof, bypassing the communications software to open a direct line to the inside of her apartment.

“Twilight,” the mech spoke, his voice echoing and faintly muffled by the door behind him as he tried to rouse the sleeping leader of the Equestrians. “We have a situation.”

“Nuuuuhh...” the unicorn responded in a bleary, half-asleep mumble. “Not now, Spike... It’s late.... Go back to bed.”

Forty-Two’s servos seized up for a fraction of a second before he repeated himself. “Madam President, we have an emergency situation developing that requires your immediate attention.”

“Unnghhhh...” Twilight could be heard rolling over in her bed, and though he had not activated the video-chat feature of the omni-hoof, he could visualize her rubbing her eyes with a foreleg and gazing half-lidded at the clock on her bedside. “Oh, for the love of Celestia... I just got to sleep. What is it, Forty-Two... and can’t it wait till morning?”

“No, Madam President,” the mech stated with a cold certainty. “I’m afraid that it can’t.”

*Codex Update*
*Technology: Changeling Drones - Updated

——————

“Come on, open up... It’s me, ya danged contraption!” said the stetson-wearing Director of Labor as she approached the doorway of the Sweet Apple-cations Administration Office, located inside the main government complex on New Ponyville’s fourth level.

There was a brief moment of pause as the red hologram lock shifted to a less-obstructive green and the door slid open automatically, allowing access to the orange mare, as well as her burden. Hitched up to her back, in a fashion that resembled the kinds of wagons she used to pull on her old farm, was a load-bearing anti-gravity repulsor pallet she had “borrowed” from the docks. Its miniature mass effect generator had allowed her to pull it all the way up the stairs to the Administration Level swiftly, silently, and with minimal jostling, which was especially important considering what lay beneath the opaque plastic covering layered on top.

“Well, it’s about time...” The on-edge mare shook her head while she started to unhitch herself, a simple press of the hoof unbuckling the straps fastening the cargo pallet. Her brow slick with sweat, she then looked behind her and made a “this way” motion with her head, before entering her office, followed by the hovering pallet as it was pushed from behind by a changeling drone. As soon as both cargo and drone were beyond the threshold of the door, it smoothly slid closed behind them.

Less than a minute later, the door opened again with a soft tone, and Applejack once more passed through it, this time using her foreleg to reach up and wipe her hat over her forehead with an expression of relief.

“Whew... Finally safe...” she breathed out in a tired, but satisfied, sigh. After far too long, they had made it back to New Ponyville safe and sound. Now came the part of figuring out what to do--

“Safe from what, exactly?”

Applejack’s heart jumped into her throat just as she was replacing her hat atop her head, and her hooves stopped right in their tracks. In an instant, her eyes snapped forward to realize that, parked right outside her office door, was none other than her best friend and leader of the Equestrian Herd, Twilight Sparkle. Standing at attention next to her was one of the changeling drones, recognizable as Twilight’s assistant by its glowing green eyes that somehow, oddly, seemed as though they were glaring at her.

As for her friend, she had obviously not had time to make herself presentable, as she was currently furclad, sporting a fair amount of unruly bedmane, and had great big purple bags under her eyes. And one thing that was certain in Applejack’s mind at that instant was the fact that her friend did not look happy at all.

“Twi!?” The former farm-pony drew back in utter shock, somewhat disturbed by the scowl that painted her best friend’s features and feeling a cold sweat break out down the back of her neck. “Why’re ya... H-how did... Ah mean, safe... as in s-safe back in New Ponyville! Yup! Glad ta be back home!”

Feeling a jolt run down her spine, Applejack immediately took a step forward, out of the door’s sensor range, allowing it to snap closed along with the red hologram in place to lock it. All the while, she flashed Twilight what she hoped beyond all hope looked like an innocent smile, but judging by the way her friend’s expression did not shift in the slightest, she doubted it looked very genuine.

Desperate for a solution to present itself, she tried changing the subject.

“So, uh... Pretty late, ain’t it? Aren’t you, uh, supposed to be sleepin’? Heheh... heh...”

“I was,” Twilight huffed, shaking her head with no small amount of annoyance as she got up on all four hooves. For a moment, the unicorn took her eyes off Applejack to shoot a withering glare at her mech, which made no attempt to acknowledge the action. “But then somepony thought it was worth getting me up to ask you why you were running so late.”

“Oh, uhhh... well...” Applejack hesitated, looking every which way around the hall except directly at the Madam President. “Y’all know how it is... Some things came up at the hospital... then it took us awhile ta get a cab back ta New Ponyville... No big deal.”

“I didn’t say it was.” Twilight nodded, her expression growing more concerned as she returned her full attention to the Director, who gulped subconsciously. “Although... I’ll admit I was curious as to why Forty-Two claims that you’ve been disabling the security feeds of every changeling from here to the docks.”

“R-right... About that... Ah was just... u-uhhh...” Applejack’s eyes shifted about, glancing back towards the door before she caught herself, and forced her gaze to stay straight ahead. Inside her head, it felt like a wave of ice was freezing up the contents of her mind and preventing her from squeezing out a single convincing argument that would satisfy her friend.

“Applejack...” Twilight’s eyes narrowed on the pony, who had started to visibly tremble where she stood. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Goin’ on? Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on! Just... ya know... Ah’m kinda tired after everythin’ that’s happened today,” Applejack said quickly, raising a hoof to her snout and letting out a large, exaggerated, thoroughly unconvincing yawn. “Ah was just about ta go get some shut-eye. Y’all should too. Boy, yessiree am Ah tired. Guess Ah’ll see ya in the mornin’, Twi. G’night!”

Applejack then attempted to step swiftly past Twilight’s side, hoping to get away before the situation got any more precipitous, but the Madam President wasn’t going to let that happen. The unicorn was hardly in any mood for games, and had decided to stop entertaining this pitiable charade that had gone on long enough.

“What are you hiding in your office, Applejack?” Twilight asked accusingly, stepping to the side in order to block the earth mare’s path.

“Ah’m not hidin’ nothin’!” the orange pony said in a slightly strained voice, and a little too quickly to convey any sense of honesty. In response, Twilight stared long and hard into her friend’s eyes, unable to mask the disappointment on her face, and right then and there, Applejack knew the jig was up. She was the galaxy’s worst liar, and she knew it.

With a disappointed sigh, Twilight broke eye contact as her shoulders slumped.

“Forty-Two, open the door.”

“Complying.” Forty-Two’s antennae blinked rhythmically for a few seconds before the hologram on the door gave off an electronic buzz as it turned a light green. “Done.”

Wasting no time on ceremony, Twilight brushed past a clearly flustered Applejack and stepped right up to the office.

“Twilight, wait! Ah can explain! It’s not what it looks like!” Applejack cried out, reaching a hoof after Twilight, but her plea was too late. The door was open, revealing the inside for all to see.

There was a moment of utter silence, and as Twilight paused mid-step, a mix of shock and disbelief playing out across her muzzle, it looked as if time itself had stopped. Well, almost, as the only movement from inside the office came from the oblivious changeling drone currently maneuvering the unconscious form of Doctor Patricia Hern, dressed in nothing but a plain green hospital gown, onto the long chaise lounge set up along the wall of the office.

For Twilight, no introduction was necessary, as she was already quite familiar with the brown-haired human female: A Cerberus archeologist who had, along with Commander Shepard, helped her species escape from the Equestria Facility. Also clear to her was the fact that the woman was still obviously suffering from the condition she’d been placed in upon being released from the virtual world, indicating that she had certainly not recovered enough to have come along of her own free will.

She’d hoped that Forty-Two was wrong. That the evidence he’d presented to her was circumstantial at best. That one of her most trusted friends couldn’t possibly have gone behind her back to do something like this. But as she stared on, she couldn’t deny it any longer, and she turned to face Applejack with a barely restrained outrage in her features.

“Then tell me what it looks like, Applejack...” she said, managing just barely to not grit her teeth together as she cast a hoof at Patricia’s limp form. “Because it looks to me like you’ve abducted a comatose patient from the hospital, and are trying to hide her away in your office!”

“Twilight, Ah...”

“I didn’t want to believe it!” Twilight shouted, the expression on her face making Applejack shift back as she was reminded of the last time her friend had become incensed enough to literally burst into flames. This time however, the event didn’t feel anywhere near as amusing as that one day in Equestria, such a long time ago.

“‘Oh, no,’ I said. ‘There has to be some mistake,’ I said. ‘Applejack is the most trustworthy and dependable pony I know! There’s no way she could do something like... like’...” Twilight let out a grunt of frustration, and if actual steam had billowed from her nostrils just then, Applejack wouldn’t have batted an eye. “What were you thinking!?”

“I was--”

“Do you even realize what you’ve done!? What this could mean for you, for us, for New Ponyville!? What could’ve possibly possessed you to do something like this!?”

“Fer Celestia’s sake, girl! Wouldja just calm the buck down an’ lemme explain, already!?” Applejack found her own voice; a stubborn one that suddenly remembered that she wasn’t going to be treated like a foal in need of a scolding. “Ah had no choice! Ah had ta get ‘er outta there fer ‘er own safety! She was in danger!”

Twilight panted heavily for a moment, seeming to realize that she had lost her temper to a degree that she hadn’t even realized existed. Her heart hammering, she felt a shudder run through her body as she breathed in, and she forced her eyes shut until she could see past the haze that had threatened to cloud her vision.

“...Okay... I’m listening...” Twilight tried to swallow a bitter bile that had built up in her throat. “Start at the beginning... and tell me the whole truth.”

The Director of Labor took a few deep breaths through her nose, psyching herself up as Forty-Two of Fifty took the liberty of joining his mistress inside the office. For a while, nothing was said until Applejack finally worked up the guts to continue.

“As you know... Ah went ta the hospital this mornin’ ta visit Patch, like Ah do every week. This time, though, Ah happened to have a little... ‘run-in’ with ‘er family,” Applejack explained, reaching up to pull her hat off her head and run a hoof through her mane. “Now, her husband Joshua’s already made it clear that he don’t like us all that much...”

“I know. We’ve met.” Twilight nodded, still trying to come down from her initial, dam-bursting indignation upon seeing for herself that Forty-Two’s accusations were completely accurate. “Not the most pleasant human I’ve ever encountered, but I can understand why he blames us for his wife’s condition.”

“That wasn’t our fault an’ you know it!” Applejack stomped a hoof decisively, clearly displeased with Twilight’s phrasing. “It was Celestia who--”

“I know, AJ... I was there.” Twilight shook her head, feeling that aggression start to build again before taking another breath. “So, what happened next?”

“Well, her husband had this other human with him, called himself ‘Dr. Janton’ and said he was some sorta human brain specialist doctor type. Lotsa big fancy words Ah didn’t really get... But from what Ah could gather, he wants ta take Patch ta some kind a’ ‘special facility’ on Earth for treatment.”

“Hold on... I thought Patricia’s condition was too uncertain to risk interstellar travel,” Twilight couldn’t help but point out, her curiosity briefly getting the better of her.

“Ah know! That’s what Ah said!” Applejack agreed heartily. “But a’ course, Joshua says he don’t trust no ‘alien’ doctors to do what’s right fer his wife. Honestly... Ah don’t know what Patch sees in that insensitive pile a’--”

“Getting off topic, AJ,” the unicorn warned her.

“Right... sorry.” The earth mare gave an apologetic smile before clearing her throat. “Anyways... Janton had this legal paper deal that said Josh was appointin’ him as primary health-care provider, an’ that meant it didn’t matter what the docs at Huerta thought. He was gonna have ‘er moved back ta Earth first thing tomorrow mornin’!”

“Okay, I think I see where this is going...” Twilight raised a hoof to rub the bridge of her snout. “Applejack, I know you and Patricia were close friends, and I understand why you care about what happens to her. But regardless of that, and regardless of your personal feelings about Joshua, you should have at least trusted the doctors to know what they were doing. What you did was simply irr--”

“Twi!” Applejack stomped her hoof to snap her friend out of her admonishing. “Dr. Janton’s a fake!”

At this, Twilight hesitated. She knew that tone... indignation mixed with a degree of absolute certainty.

“...What do you mean?”

“After they left, Number Nine over there told me that the snake was tryin’ ta put a virus or somethin’ on mah omni-hoof when we was talkin’!” Applejack explained, pointing a hoof at the mech that had accompanied her, now standing idly by next to the unconscious doctor. As for her claim, Twilight looked back at her own mech for verification.

“Verifying...” Forty-Two chirped. “Confirmed. Record indicates Unit Nine of Twelve detected and destroyed the offending program before infection could occur.”

“Yeah, that’s right...” Applejack nodded affirmatively. “That man already gave me a bad feelin’, and this only confirmed it. So Ah went ta ask Becky ta--”

“Wait, who’s ‘Becky’’?” Twilight raised a hoof her interrupt, her head swimming with details as her usually sharp information retention was hampered by her body’s rather intent demands to sleep.

“One a’ mah friends over at Huerta; she’s a receptionist. Anyways, Ah asked Becky ta look into it. Get this: She couldn’t find any records of Janton’s medical practice. Not on the Citadel or in the Alliance. All she could find was an old medical licence, records of his transcripts, and a bunch a’ fast-tracked paperwork from the Human Embassy ta get the hospital’s objections overturned.”

“Soooo...?” Twilight tried to connect the dots and found herself drawing a blank.

“So... somethin’s wrong!” Applejack declared as if it were the most obvious thing in the galaxy. “Ah could feel it in mah gut! They were just gonna let ‘er get taken away to Celestia-knows-where without liftin’ a hoof ta stop ‘em! Ah had ta do somethin’!”

“Applejack...” Twilight shook her head, once more feeling the need to raise her voice. “If you had suspicions, you could have at least told somepony! The last thing you should have done was take matters into your own hooves like this based on a hunch!”

“Ah’m just tryin’ ta keep a friend a’ mine safe! Same as Ah would do fer anypony!”

“You don’t understand, AJ!” Twilight brought her hoof to her face, ignoring the pain as the slightly harder outer edge of her hoof impacted the bridge of her nose. “It doesn’t matter what your intentions were! You committed a crime!”

“Yer overreactin’, Twi,” Applejack stated calmly. “Ah’m just tryin’ ta keep ‘er safe till the hospital comes to its senses and--”

“It isn’t that simple! Nothing about this is okay!” Twilight scolded, drawing a stunned look from the earth pony. “This isn’t like Equestria where everything was forgiven with a heartfelt apology and a lesson in friendship! This is... this is...”

The unicorn trailed off, uncertain how to continue before Forty-Two clarified for her.

“Kidnapping in the second degree: Categorized as a Class-A felony by Citadel Penal Code. Possible penalties if convicted include but are not limited to: Minimum five galactic standard years incarceration, fines in excess of one hundred thousand credits, and a minimum of ten galactic standard years probation.”

Applejack’s mouth was agape, her pupils shrunk down to pinpricks and her hat suddenly leaning awkwardly on her head at the recitation of legal facts.

“Still think I’m overreacting?” Twilight asked blankly, her eyes narrowed as the severity of the situation sunk in for her friend.

“Ah’m... jus’ tryin’ ta help ‘er...” Applejack lowered her head, kicking a hoof along the floor like a scolded filly as the implications ran around in her head. “She helped save us all back in Canterlot. What happened ta her happened on account a’ us. We owe ‘er... If that quack takes ‘er away, there’s no tellin’ what’ll happen ta her.”

“This is not going to go unnoticed.” Twilight shook her head, her anger cooling and replaced by a legitimate concern for her admittedly well-intentioned friend. “The hospital will realize she’s gone soon, if they haven’t already. It won’t take them long to piece together what happened and come here looking for her!”

“W-well maybe they won’t. Ah mean, Ah had Nine get inta the hospital’s computers ta make sure no cameras saw us... And Ah’m positive nopony noticed she was with us...”

“Obstruction of justice: Knowingly tampering with evidence with clear criminal intent,” Forty-Two spoke up. “Penalties include incarceration for no more than twenty galactic standard years. Fines and other penalties may also be levied.”

Applejack’s breathing started to become strained and it looked like her legs were about to give way as Twilight turned to the mech with a harsh expression.

“Forty-Two, stop. I think she gets the idea.”

“Ah... Ah was... just tryin’ ta...” Applejack seemed close to passing out, reaching up and pulling the hat off her head as she started to truly comprehend just how much trouble she had made for herself. “Okay... okay... Maybe... if we just keep this a secret, we... we can think a’ somethin’, right...? Just until she gets better... then everythin’ll be okay...”

“Once the status of Dr. Hern has been established, C-Sec will undoubtedly investigate New Ponyville. Statistical probability of discovery runs at eighty-seven percent likelihood... rounded down,” Forty-Two offered, his tone neutral despite the dour outlook of his announcement. “If I may make a suggestion: Offering to return Dr. Hern to the authorities would be the proper and legal way to respond to these events.”

“Ya mean just give her back over!? We can’t do that!” Applejack objected, to which the green-eyed drone responded curtly.

“A public condemnation of the act would also not go amiss and could perhaps avert a negative impact for the Herd overall.”

“Hey! Whose side‘re you on, anyways!? Applejack snarled at what she assumed was just a particularly uppity changeling drone. “Jus’ shut down already, would ya!?”

“Request denied,” Forty-Two chirped, drawing a surprised look from the earth pony.

“Since when can you disobey a direct order from one a’ yer ‘Administrators’?”

“Enough, both of you!” Twilight shouted, drawing the mech’s and the Director of Labor’s attentions. “We don’t need arguments, we need options! Look, before we do anything rash, maybe we should tell Lieutenant Pyres about--”

“Twi! No! If y’all tell the turian, Patch is a goner fer sure!” Applejack shook her head vigorously. “He’s C-Sec! He’ll haveta tell his superiors about what we did!”

“What we did? This is your mess AJ, not mine. And you seem to be forgetting that the reputation of the Herd is at stake here, and you’re willing to risk it all on account of some human woman you’ve only known for a couple of days!”

“But, Twi... Ah can’t just...” Applejack brought her hat, held in the grip of her hoof, up to her chest, a pleading look in her eyes. “...She’s family.”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and she resisted the urge to smack her hoof back into her face. Of course the former cowpony was willing to go to these lengths. After she had been dumped, lost and traumatized, into the Equestria Simulation, Applejack had been the one to take Doctor Hern... ‘Patch’... in. After all she had done to repay Applejack’s kindness, going so far as to risk her life and her body on the mare’s behalf, she’d been made an honorary member of the Apple Family.

And experience had shown: The apple-studded earth mare would walk through Tartarus itself to keep any member of her family safe.

Twilight groaned painfully as she tried to think her way out of this terrible situation.

Truth be told, she didn’t exactly have a great deal of emotional investment with Dr. Hern. She had only been to visit the Cerberus scientist at the Presidium hospital one time, and that was at Applejack’s request. And while she was indeed grateful and respected the sacrifice that the human woman had made, she just didn’t have the same “bond” that Applejack had developed with her over the days before Commander Shepard had arrived at her library.

But even so, did they have the right to decide what was best for her? After all, Applejack’s gut reaction was hardly a jarring accusation that would hold up in any legal system worth its salt. What if she was wrong, and this “Dr. Janton” was someone who could truly help Patricia recover? Was New Ponyville even equipped to provide her with the kind of care she'd been receiving at the hospital?

And even aside from Dr. Hern, there was a very good chance that her friend, the honest and dependable Applejack, would irreparably suffer some kind of consequence no matter what ended up happening. Twilight wasn’t sure if she could stomach throwing her friend to the timberwolves, but if it was a choice between the reputation of one pony, as opposed to that of the Herd itself, was it a choice she would be willing to make?

Twilight looked for a moment between the brightly illuminated, green eyes of her assistant and the pleading green eyes of her best friend.

This was not something that could wait until morning. It couldn’t even wait another five minutes. They needed a plan of action... and they needed it now.

Log Entry: 42 of 50 - Day 60 A.E

Assets Aquired: N/A
Codex Update: New Ponyville: Mane Street, Lieutenant Taxar Pyers, Technology: Changeling Drones

Author's Note

Directive Decision
Getting the Message

It can’t be denied that Rainbow Dash, as the Herd’s Director of Defense, takes her job very seriously, but not seriously enough to admit she still has much to learn in the areas of security and general combat. Despite Lt. Pyres’ best efforts, the animosity that the Director still harbors towards him is all the justification she needs to disregard his criticisms of her improvisational approach to solving security issues in New Ponyville.

Pyres honestly believes that Rainbow has the potential to fulfill her station if she would only heed his advice, and is willing to give her another chance to accept his tutelage. After consulting with the turian, the Madam President agrees, and has come to the conclusion that Rainbow requires some added “encouragement” in order to look past her personal feelings and continue her lessons with Pyres. The problem therein lies in how to best approach the subject, as Rainbow has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing to do with New Ponyville’s C-Sec liaison. Twilight has decided that there are two options.

The Personal Plea - Using their mutually deep bond of friendship, Twilight can lean on Rainbow to do the sensible thing and listen to Pyres, speaking as a friend who only wants what’s best for her. Given Rainbow’s state of mind, a calm discussion might be just what’s needed to cool her head, provided Twilight can get through to her in the first place.

The Hardline Approach - Twilight can’t in good conscience use her position as leader of the Herd and order Rainbow to follow through with the training, but she is well within her authority to impose consequences should she continue to refuse. Specifically, the Madam President can threaten to revoke Rainbow Dash’s title as Director and replace her with somepony else if she continues to remain obstinate. However, this option presents the risk of “adding more fuel to the fire,” potentially straining the two friends’ relationship if Rainbow perceives it as an insult to her abilities.

Choice
A Friend in Need

Fearing for the life of her friend, Director Applejack has taken the unprecedented action of using Nine of Twelve to hack the security systems and biometric scanners of the Huerta Memorial Hospital, allowing her to successfully abduct the catatonic Dr. Hern from the medical facility and keep her away from the machinations of her family. Needless to say, this course of events was never anticipated, and an easy solution to this situation will be next to impossible.

While her intentions may have been noble, the legal ramifications of kidnapping the helpless doctor could be absolutely devastating to New Ponyville and the Herd as a whole, as the district has only just gotten up on its shaky hooves. While Applejack genuinely believes there is a threat to Dr. Hern, the law is quite clear that her husband and his appointed health administrator, Dr. Janton, are the ones rightfully responsible for her well-being.

Without anything short of a miracle, all indicators point to eventual discovery of the crime being inevitable. Swift, decisive action must be taken in order to limit the potential damage to all involved parties, and the Madam President must decide how best to handle the situation, given that the futures of Doctor Hern, Director Applejack, and perhaps the entire Herd itself are now at stake.

Running predictive model of the Madam President’s reaction.

Keep it a Secret: “I don’t like it, but if we’re really careful, maybe we can keep this from getting any worse."
Notify Lieutenant Pyres: “If anyone deserves to know, it’s Pyres. Maybe he can help us out of this.”
Reveal Everything: “This has gone too far already. I’m sorry, Applejack... but we have to do the right thing.”

VOTING IS CLOSED

::Results::

Getting the Message

——————

The Personal Plea: 91.3%

The Hardline Approach: 8.7%

====

A Friend in Need

——————

Keep it a Secret: 1.9%

Notify Lieutenant Pyres: 95.7%

Reveal Everything: 2.4%

The Madam President feels that a calm, measured approach would be the best way to convince her friend to continue with her training under the Lieutenant.

The Madam President has decided not to take action regarding Dr. Hern until Lieutenant Pyres has been fully apprised of the situation.

Arc 2 - Part 2: When it Rains...

When it Rains...

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 65 A.E.

Present location: Huerta Memorial Hospital, Presidium

Status: processing data

“Excuse me. I need to pass.”

*Archival browsing discontinued*

The sudden illumination of Forty-Two’s optics took only a fraction of a second, shutting out the memories and bringing his current circumstances back to the front of his processors. A quick check of his chronometer indicated that his review of the archived data thus far had taken longer than was expected as he shuffled through every detail. Nearly a full eight seconds had passed, during which time his external sensors had been all but dead to his surroundings.

This was something he regretted for a millisecond as he came to recognize that he was looking dead ahead into the midriff of a bipedal alien. He brought his head up to get a better look, and was now able to put a face to the voice that had roused him from inactivity. A quick skim of the hospital’s public employment roster immediately identified the asari.

*Identity confirmed, [Amauria Capahalo, Doctor, XB-MP, Certified Xenobiology Medical Practitioner; Huerta Memorial]*

“Excuse me,” the asari repeated, somewhat more forcefully, as if speaking louder would make the command any easier to understand.

While the mech could consider the gesture to be rude, it was not as if he expected her to show any particular concern for him. After all, in her eyes, he was just another machine, and one that was blocking her path, at that.

Without any challenge, Forty-Two side-stepped, clearing the way for the doctor to pass through. Behind him, the door’s holographic lock buzzed and disappeared, the glass panels sliding into the walls and unsealing the room beyond.

The reaction was immediate, Forty Two’s audio receptors instantly picking up the voices of several of the mares inside and identifying them.

“Oh my goodness. Doctor, is she alright?”

“Are y’all gonna tell us what the hay’s goin’ on?”

“She’s going to be okay, right? She has to be okay!”

“Girls, please don’t crowd her! Just give the doctor some space and let her talk.”

“Thank you, Director, but I understand all of your concern. This must be a trying time for all of you,” the doctor stated, her tone calm and professional. “I only wish I had better news... I’m afraid that the damage to your friend’s--”

The door suddenly slid shut behind the changeling, who wished for nothing more than to join them in hearing more of the conversation.

But unfortunately, “mere” mechs couldn’t show that level of curiosity or initiative. To do so would invite a certain level of scrutiny that he, and the Equestrians more broadly, couldn’t afford. Especially at this time.

Unable to do anything more at the moment, Forty-Two returned to his investigation, quickly tabulating the events following Dr. Hern’s reveal so that he could move on to the next day’s events.

Director Applejack had been all but heartbroken when the Madam President issued her decision to immediately inform New Ponyville’s C-Sec liaison of the situation. The ensuing argument and claims of betrayal did nothing to sway Twilight’s course of action, and while Forty-Two was glad to see his mistress committed to her decision, the pain that came along with damaging her friend’s trust in her was all too evident.

He had not been present for the quickly called meeting between Twilight, Applejack, and an agitated, sleepless Lt. Pyres, having been given the task of ensuring Dr. Hern’s continued comfort and safety while the situation was resolved. While he could only guess at the turian’s reaction to being woken in the middle of the district’s “night cycle,” he had predicted a high probability of raised voices and disparaging remarks involving the varying levels of intelligence of those involved.

While his vigil over the comatose human had been (as anticipated) uneventful, he had still not been looking forward to Twilight’s eventual summons. But in the early hours of the morning, come it had.

Her instructions to bring Dr. Hern to New Ponyville’s docking area had been more clipped than he expected, her tone bordering on exhaustion. And while he wasn’t sure what he should be expecting as he and Nine of Twelve made the repulsor lift ready, they had proceeded to cart the human out of the Administration Building and down the stairwell into New Ponyville itself.

Little did he know at the time that the Equestrians’ troubles had only just begun.

——————

Archived Log: 42 of 50 - Day 61 A.E.

Location: New Ponyville Docks

Status: Guard Mode

The Citadel was a place filled with distraction and spectacle. Things that simply reached out and grabbed at the attention of otherwise jaded passersby with bright colors and flashing holograms. More often than not, these were advertisements used to try and market products and get those viewing to part company with their hard-earned credits.

Any individual that had been on the Citadel for even a short time quickly became accustomed to this slew of distraction and simply tuned it out, paying the adverts no mind. An enviable state of affairs, considering what Forty-Two had to deal with now.

He found himself wishing that this could be a situation in which everypony not involved would simply ignore it and go on with their daily business, paying it no more attention than they would for projectors trumpeting commercials for Fish-Dog Food Shack or Asari burial robes.

But for Equestrians, as it was with nearly every species in advanced society, few things could draw attention quite as well as a security cordon.

“Please move along,” Forty-Two repeated yet again, feeling fortunate that he could mask his growing annoyance under a layer of mechanical indifference. This was the fourth time he had logged Featherweight, a lanky young pegasus colt, approaching the cordon. Like all of the others, he turned away almost immediately, but not before stealing a peek behind the mech, a mix of concern and perplexity on his features as he was clearly trying to piece together what was going on. But as with all those other times, the scene hadn’t changed: a number of dark blue C-Sec cruisers flashing their red and blue lights amid a crowd of officers attempting to keep things orderly.

Seven changeling mechs stood sentry, maintaining a boundary line between the rest of the lower level and the cordoned portion of the Docks, more out of a desire to prevent C-Sec’s proceedings from being interrupted than out of any real security concern.

And in the center of it all were four Equestrians, including the Madam President herself and Director Applejack, and of course the unwitting cause of the unexpected disturbance: Doctor Patricia Hern. Already, rumors were rushing around the district, running the gambit from the mundane, to the macabre, to the downright comical. The current prevailing theory was that someone had again stoked the Madam President’s ire, and that the following biotic event had led to the compacting of some unfortunate soul’s expensive transportation.

While he was not currently privy to the ongoing discussion between the Equestrian leaders and the Citadel’s investigators, he did not have to have a full accounting of the details to recognize what was sure to be the first real scandal and shame of New Ponyville.

And as he took notice of a new shuttle approaching, the mech realized that the already tense situation was about to become far more volatile.

——————

“WHERE IS SHE!?”

“Invalid inquiry. Please specify.”

“Get outta my way, mech!”

“Authority not recognized. Request denied.”

“Fuck you! Move over!”

“Warning: Attempts to circumvent this unit will result in discouragement measures.”

“I said, move--"

*BZZTT*

"AGH!”

“The next discharge will contain increased voltage. You have been warned.”

Twilight Sparkle moved as quickly as she could towards the edge of the cordon as soon as she took note of the raised voices moving in their direction. While C-Sec was doing an admirable job in maintaining the peace, it was clear that none of the responding enforcement officers were interested in getting overly involved with the clearly distressed human.

"Forty-Two, enough!" The familiar voice of the Madam President came up from behind the mech, who had remained motionless throughout the incident. "Let him pass."

"Complying," the changeling stated simply, stepping aside and earning another glare from the human male who was now nursing a slight electrical burn on his hand to go with his bruised ego.

Unfortunately, the pain seemed to do little to dissuade him from his justifiable outrage as the human immediately stormed past the cordon of metallic ponies and all but charged the relatively small lavender unicorn.

"You! What the hell do you think you’re doing!?"

"Mister Hern," Twilight replied calmly, her tone astonishingly neutral in the face of the alien's wrathful one. "First things first, I want to apologize for--”

“What’s the matter with you!? You damn horses are the reason she’s like this in the first place, and then you go and snatch her right out of the goddamn hospital! You’ve done enough harm already! To her, and her family!”

"Joshua, please, I am just trying to--"

“And don’t you dare try to pull any of that cutsy sweet-talk bullshit! The Asari and those idiots in Alliance Parliament might buy that crap, but if you think your charms will work on me, you’ve got another thing coming, you cow!”

"Mister Hern!" Twilight stomped a hoof before pushing herself up, seeming to surprise the human as she put herself up to his eye level. “That is quite enough! I’m trying to resolve this situation as best I can, but I can only do that so long as everypony involved can behave like an adult!” That last word carried enough force behind it to make the human flinch just a bit. Having sufficiently made her point, Twilight snorted brusquely went back on all fours. “If you would just calm down, we can work out an arrangement that will leave all parties satisfied.”

“Oh, hell no! You’re not going to get away with this with just some half-assed apology!” Joshua Hern trembled with indignation, his hands balled into fist as he held Twilight’s intense purple glare. “And if you think for one second that I’m going to--”

“Mr. Joshua Hern, I presume. Good of you to join us," a new voice broke as the blue and black-garbed turian moved up between the human and pony. The calm, confident sense of authority he projected made it clear that he wasn’t going to be messed with.

"What the... Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Joshua started, still in a state of outrage, but of his wits enough to know that lashing out at a C-Sec officer would not be in his best interests.

"Lieutenant Taxar Pyres, C-Sec Enforcement Division, Tayseri Ward." Pyres nodded. "I've been put in charge of your wife's kidnapping case.”

“I thought Detective Westmoreland from Investigations was handling my wife’s case...” Hern’s eyes narrowed suspiciously on the turian, who was an uncomfortable departure from the slightly husky human investigator with the Bronx accent who had initially informed him of his wife’s disappearance.

“The situation has changed. Detective Westmoreland’s skills were required elsewhere, and frankly, this case didn’t require his expertise. Don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control.” Pyres nodded, the human taking note of the distasteful expression the turian cast at Twilight, who was now looking dejected.

"Then you're just the... man... I want to see." Joshua returned the nod, his eyes hard although his voice seemed to waver as he hesitated in his choice of words.

"First off, I am happy to inform you that your wife has been recovered without incident and is now being examined for signs of trauma by our precinct specialist,” Pyres explained, motioning over to one side and drawing Joshua’s attention to his wife, who was laying on a cot with a salarian in a medical uniform running an omni-tool over her. There was no mistaking the look of relief and the sudden relaxing of his posture as he saw the dark-haired woman laying there unharmed.

“The guilty party, Miss Applejack of the Equestrian Herd, has been apprehended and has issued a full written and verbal confession of the abduction. As far as Citadel Security is concerned, this investigation is closed, which just leaves one outstanding issue: Do you wish to press charges?"

"Damn right, I do!" Hern all but shouted, throwing an arm animatedly towards Applejack, who had until now tried to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. She was currently doing so from behind the forms of Director Rainbow Dash and another pony: a mint-green unicorn that he was utterly unfamiliar with. "I want that furry orange bitch arrested."

"Hey!" Applejack nearly reared, insult and pain clear in her eyes before a glare from Twilight set her back. "Y’all take that back, or--"

"Applejack, I thought we went over this. No talking," the green unicorn snapped, as she preemptively held a hoof up to bar the Director’s path.

"That's your prerogative, sir," Pyres said with a straight face, drawing a horrified look from Applejack while Twilight moved away from Hern and back towards her friend. The turian produced a thin datapad, tapping on it casually with one finger. "We'll get the process started. Given the nature of the confession, I believe a guilty verdict and sentencing is a guarantee. With luck, the first hearing can take place in as little as eight months."

"Good! Maybe these animals will learn that--" Hern stopped, turning his head so quickly that Twilight nearly winced just from watching it. "Wait, eight months?"

"Well, since the suspect was apprehended by her own government, that means we have to go through the extradition process. Seeing as there isn’t yet an extradition treaty between the Equestrians and Citadel government, I hope you can appreciate how much of a legal setback that is."

“But… she’s right there!” Hern’s temper started to flare again.

“And in the custody of her own government in sanctioned Equestrian territory. C-Sec doesn’t have the authority to remove her from that custody without an extradition process any more than we would be able to remove a human from an Alliance colony or an Earth city, our own personal proximity notwithstanding,” Pyres explained. “Doing so would set a dangerous precedent for alien interventionism in interspecies judiciary affairs, assuming it didn’t get the case thrown out of court entirely.”

“And you can bet that I’m going to make them fight for it,” Twilight called out as she put herself between Hern and Applejack, her tone rock hard with certainly as she managed to stand firm against the withering glare sent her way by the human.

Hern growled in his throat, sounding more than slightly predatory to Twilight’s sensitivities before he issued a single guttural statement. “Fine…”

“I’ll get started on the paperwork...” Taxar sighed loudly and began to tap the datapad. “Of course, the victim will be required to remain under Citadel Security protective custody until the hearing commences, but that shouldn't be an issue. We can have a medical professional on call around the clock in order to--”

“Wait, what?” Hern took a step back, physically reeling. “No! My wife… We have a shuttle scheduled to take her directly to Earth in less than two hours! I’m taking her home!”

“Mr. Hern, your wife has just been the victim of a heinous crime,” Taxar explained in a factual manner. “And as unfortunate as it may sound, she herself is evidence in that crime. So long as that’s true, it would be against C-Sec regulations to release her from protective custody. For any reason.”

There was a moment of utter silence and tension between the two, Pyres continuing to tap away at his datapad while his face remained a mask of professionalism and Hern’s eyes darted back and forth.

“...And if there were no pending charges?” Hern queried cautiously, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

“If no charges are filed, there would be no reason for the protective custody and the case would be closed for all intents and purposes.”

Joshua Hern spared Twilight, then Applejack one more dirty glare before lowering his head, mumbling under his breath.

“I’ll drop the charges.”

“I’m sorry, sir, what was that?” Taxar asked, and were it not for his demeanor, one might almost think he was making sport of the human.

“I said… I’ll drop the charges,” he repeated through clenched teeth. “As long as my wife gets to come home, I don’t care what happens to the damn horses.”

“As you wish, sir.” Pyres waved over one of the other officers, who came up to him with another datapad and traded with the turian, who pressed several keys before offering it to Hern. “This affidavit will release yourself, the Alliance, and its representatives bodies from involvement in Case File: Tayseri-Kapton-Twelve two-four-six-oh-one, leaving the suspect in the custody of her home government.”

“And then my wife will be allowed to return to Earth?” Hern leveled a suspicious glare at the turian, taking the offered datapad and looking over the contents, although his eyes were almost immediately scrambled as he tried to interpret the fine print and legalese of the document.

“She’ll be free to leave as soon as she’s cleared by our medical officer.”

“But she--” Applejack started to get up, but was quickly put back on her haunches by a hoof from Rainbow on her right and the white and teal-maned unicorn on her left, cutting her off with a look from each of them.

Hern shook his head, clearly not pleased with the alternative but seeing little other option as he pressed his thumb to the device’s pad, applying an electronic signature to the document.

“Is that it?” Joshua asked as he handed the pad back to Pyres.

“Almost. It just needs to be certified by an accredited Citadel litigator.” The turian turned towards Applejack and the other two mares. “Miss Heartstrings?”

Hearing her name, the mint-green unicorn approached, and the human could finally get a good look at her. She was wearing what appeared to be a kind of two-piece suit made out of thick, burgundy fabric over a white button-down shirt. Pinned into the suit’s fleshed-out collar was a small golden pin in the shape of a lyre.

The mare’s expression blanked for a moment before a light green aura wrapped around the datapad and brought it over to her eyes.

“And just who are you supposed to be?” Hern scoffed, unsure what this unicorn thought she was doing.

“Lyra Heartstrings, District Attorney for New Ponyville,” the mare indicated, waving a hoof as she scrolled down the document. “Everything looks to be in order, Taxar.”

“This has to be a joke, right?” Hern shook his head. “You expect me to believe this horse is a lawyer?”

“Not a horse, a pony,” Lyra corrected, a hint of her own annoyance bleeding through. “And no, it’s no joke. I was accepted to the Bar of the Citadel’s Litigation Association a week ago. As it is, Lieutenant, with this affidavit, I assume that the Herd will be given full judicial authorities in this case?”

“As far as C-Sec is concerned, the case is closed. We don’t make it a habit to tell governments how to punish their own transgressors.” Pyres folded his arms together. “Will that be everything?”

“I think so.” Lyra nodded, pressing her hoof against the datapad, which beeped condescendingly at her for a moment. “Come on, work you piece of...” She huffed before trying again with the tip of her hoof, attempting to apply a biometric signature on the proper spot, again to no avail. “Ugh!” Lyra shook her head before leaning forward, touching her horn to the screen and drawing an “X” across it.

This time, the pad flashed green and chirped acceptingly.

“Aha! I win!” Lyra beamed proudly before floating the datapad back to Pyres, who in turn handed it off to an asari that was passing by. With a few words, he sent her off in one of the C-Sec shuttles in order to bring the report to be filed at Headquarters.

“Are we done here?” Hern kept his arms crossed, tapping one finger on his bicep in an impatient manner. “My wife has a transport to catch and I still need to get my son from our hotel.”

“Of course. I’m sorry for the delay, sir, and thank you for your cooperation.” Pyres nodded before he turned towards the salarian doctor tending to Patricia, who deactivated his omni-tool upon their approach.

“It’s about time,” Hern stated, not sparing so much as a glance at the alien ponies as he turned to follow the turian, quite glad to be done dealing with the Equestrians.

“Dr. Tulsie, is your patient ready for transport?” Lt. Pyres asked, Hern quick on his heels. Then the human froze in his tracks as the salarian spoke up.

“Most certainly not, Lieutenant!” Dr. Tulsie shook his head fervently. “Interstellar travel is absolutely out of the question at this time.”

“What!?” Hern all but rounded on the smaller salarian physician, a surge of anger on the rise again. “But I signed the damn paperwork and dropped the charges! What do you mean she can’t leave!?”

“Legalities aside, Mr. Hern, this has nothing to do with your wife’s kidnapping,” the salarian explained, his frog-like eyes blinking rapidly. “As I’m sure you’re aware, she’s suffering from extensive neurological damage.”

“THAT THEY CAUSED!” The human pointed a spiteful finger back at the assembled ponies.

“If you would be so kind as to let me finish...” the salarian cut him off, running his hand along his neck. “I’ve never seen a case quite like hers before, but I have reason to suspect that close proximity to powerful mass effect fields could potentially exacerbate her condition. I cannot, in good conscience, allow her to board any ship bigger than a standard shuttle.”

“Oh, no you don’t! I have documentation straight from the Alliance Embassy superseding Huerta’s medical staff! I’ve had a specialist in human neurology personally sign off on her ability to travel, and--”

“I am not part of Huerta's staff, Mr. Hern,” the salarian declared, growing impatient. “I am a member of the Citadel Security Medical Emergency Response Corps and this is my final word on the matter. She will not be leaving this station until her condition improves. An ambulance will be here shortly to return her to her room at Huerta. If you have a complaint, file it with the Executor. My work is done here.”

“...Fucking aliens!” Hern nearly spit, his temper finally getting the better of him while Dr. Tulsie calmly walked away from the encounter. “Always thinking you know better! I’m her goddamn husband! What the hell do you know!? You’re all just working against me to...”

His eyes widened as realization set in and he turned on Pyres, who was standing unmoving, and not seeming too surprised at the way things turned out.

“The lawyer... she called you Taxar... You had the forms all ready to go-- Son of a bitch, you set me up!”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean, sir.” Pyres shook his head. “All I did was notify you of the situation and present your options. It’s not my fault that everything didn’t go according to your expectations… But if you really want to press the issue, there are other avenues we could take...”

“I--” Hern started, but was cut off as Pyres took a step towards him, lowering his voice slightly but maintaining a professional tone.

“And the first step would involve getting a full and detailed background check of everyone involved.” Pyres none-too-subtly cast a glance in Patricia’s direction. “Contacts… travel itinerary… work history… known associates...”

Taxar leaned slightly closer, dropping his tone by a single octave.

“Associates that may or may not include organizations that aren’t really considered ‘accepted’ in most parts of the galaxy. Your wife strikes me as a dog person.”

For his part, Joshua Hern suddenly became very, very pale, his antagonism suddenly buried under an expression that looked an awful lot like fear.

“I assure you, Mr. Hern: C-Sec will be very thorough, should you go down this road.”

There was a tense quiet between them for a moment as a hospital shuttle lowered itself to the docks, a pair of paramedics stepping out from the opened doors and moving to assist Dr. Tulsie with ever so carefully maneuvering the listless woman.

“God damn you…” Hern managed weakly.

“Which one?” Pyres said, letting a tiny bit of humor pass through his mask of stoicism. “Anyway, seeing as you’ve decided to take the smarter route, you should consider yourself lucky.”

“...How do you figure?” The human tried to choke back the bitter bile in his throat as his fist remained clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms.

“Because from where I’m standing, those ‘horses,’ and the very fact that they care enough about Patricia to do what they did, taking that risk, is about the only reason such an investigation isn’t already taking place.” With nothing much left to say, the turian stepped to the side to clear a path for the deflated human. “Feel free to accompany your wife back to the hospital. And please, have a nice day.”

After a moment of silence, Joshua Hern turned away, his head hanging in defeat as he started towards the ambulance and cast a glance over to the quartet of Equestrians, each of whom was eying him with concern. Particularly, his gaze fell on the orange-coated mare in the center, who had been sitting back on her haunches throughout the entire exchange.

“I hope you’re happy,” he managed in a growling tone, barely above a whisper.

“If ya really care about her...” Applejack managed, her voice sounding strained. “Then one day, you’ll thank me.”

Hern seemed to bristle at the comment, but quickly let it slide when he noticed the ambulance staff preparing to leave. Without another word, he ran over to the shuttle just in time to climb aboard and take a seat next to Patricia. The ponies watched as Joshua reached over to take his wife’s hand in his own and grasp it tightly, just as the doors slid shut.

With a slight distortion in the air, the ship took off from the docks, departing for the Presidium.

“Yeah, that’s right. You’d better just walk away--” Rainbow started, rising a meter off the floor to speak up only to be yanked painfully by the tail and back to the metal panels of the dock.

Turning with a surprised expression, Rainbow couldn’t suppress a cringe as she found herself nose to nose with Twilight, whose horn was glowing in the same aura that was now wrapped around the pegasus’ multi-colored tail. Of all of the intense emotions that were etched over the Madam President’s face “victory” was not one of them.

“What the hay, Twi?” Rainbow protested, one hoof going back to rub her rump as she started to pull herself to all fours.

“Not one word!” Twilight huffed in agitation as Pyres approached the group, Applejack immediately looking down and away from the disapproving turian while Lyra kept a supportive hoof on her shoulder.

“Is it over, then?” Lyra asked, her earlier bluff and bluster gone as her first “case” seemed to come to a defined close. Oddly enough, she also did not feel the sense of accomplishment at the outcome that she had expected.

“Yeah, it’s over.” Pyres nodded, his expression grim. “I had to cash in some pretty hefty favors, but between Hern’s affidavit to drop the criminal charges and the Director’s confession, C-Sec will officially close the case and ‘transfer’ Applejack to your charge.”

“Transfer?” Applejack tilted her head, clearly confused. “Wait, wasn’t Ah already supposed ta be under arrest? Y'all told Joshua that Ah was… uh… apprehended in Equestrian territory. What was all that talk about ‘extradition’?”

“Applejack, New Ponyville isn’t a sovereign state!” Twilight snapped, amazed how a pony with as much horse sense as AJ could have so much trouble keeping up with things. “All of this is still Citadel property, which means all crimes are under C-Sec authority. There’s nowhere for them to extradite you from. Taxar was bluffing. If it wasn’t for Lyra being accepted to the Bar, any other lawyer on the station would have blown that cover wide open!”

Applejack swallowed hard, her throat still sore from the long night and the very detailed confession she had given Pyres, going all the way back to when she first met Patricia in Equestria.

“There won’t be a trial, Director, but it’s still officially a guilty verdict on C-Sec record,” Taxar explained, although his tone was hardly relieved. “And it should go without saying that you will not be going anywhere near Doctor Hern or her family for the foreseeable future. Aside from that, Madam President, sentencing will be at your discretion as her primary authority.”

“I understand.” Twilight nodded, relief beginning to seep into her voice as the C-Sec officers in the area started moving into their cruisers and taking off from the dock, their duties done. “And thank you, Taxar.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You’re gonna owe me big for this,” Pyres stated with a humorless voice. “And just so we’re clear, Madam President, I only did this in the first place because you were so forthcoming. You get this one for free, but endangered species or not, good intentions or not, if anything like this happens again…” The turian left the implications hanging thick like a noose dangling over Twilight’s head.

“I understand.” Twilight’s ears and eyes lowered. “And it won’t, I promise.”

With a curt nod to the Madam President, and then another to Lyra, Pyres stepped away and started to leave.

“Hey, wait up, Pyres…” Rainbow moved up alongside the turian at eye level, her wings flapping lazily in the air. “The way you stared that guy down was… I mean, the whole time, all I wanted to do was stomp him into paste, with how he was talking about us.”

“Then it’s a good thing you were paying attention, Director, because that’s exactly the wrong way to handle these kinds of situations. If you’re really serious about doing this job right, one of the most important things to remember is to never let your emotions get the better of you. Got it?”

Rainbow rolled her eyes as she shot a glance behind her to the lavender mare who was watching their conversation. The look she was giving her made Rainbow harken back to the talk they’d had earlier about her reluctant attitude where the turian’s “tutoring” was concerned.

“Yeah, yeah…” Rainbow sighed, rolling over and maintaining her altitude as she moved alongside Pyres. “I hear you.”

Watching the pair move off, Twilight couldn’t help but sigh, showing her concern with Rainbow’s still flippant attitude being worn on her faux-leather sleeve. She may have heard him, but Twilight had her doubts as to whether the pegasus was really as committed as she claimed she was.

“Uh...” Applejack stepped forward, drawing Twilight’s attention. She stood with her hat held in one hoof against her chest and looked more dejected and defeated than the unicorn had ever recalled seeing the earth pony mare. “Twi, Ah…”

Twilight merely huffed, shooting an icy glare over her shoulder that caused Applejack to cringe even more before the unicorn stepped forward and away.

“Just… get back to work, Applejack.” Twilight skulked away, afraid of saying anything more to the mare as she called out to her assistant, telling him to reassign the drones that had been maintaining the cordon.

Forty-Two immediately set to doing so, but as Twilight continued on past the security line, his audio sensors picked up the choked, almost silent whisper that followed her.

“...Ah’m sorry.”

If Twilight had heard her, she gave no indication.

*Codex Update*
*Notable Individuals: Dr. Patricia Hern - updated*
*Equestrian Culture: Law in New Ponyville - updated*
*Notable Individuals: Lyra Heartstrings - updated*

——————

Archived Log: 42 of 50 - Day 61 A.E.

Location: Office of the Madam President

Status: passive observation

Twilight had come to one conclusion over the course of the past two hours: the fact that Lieutenant Pyres had lied.

It was not over.

In fact, it had only just begun less than half an hour after the events on the dock, when Twilight had received mail on her omni-hoof directly from Captain Arlin Inastri, the head of Tayseri Ward’s C-Sec office.

The wording had been pleasant and discreet, but Twilight was intelligent enough to read between the lines and realize that she was now on thin ice with the local constabulary. Clearly, the asari captain didn’t care for the idea of a “minor” government manipulating law enforcement officers in order to get their friends out of legal hot water, and made it very clear that her department was not going to accept “we didn’t know” as a defense from this point on.

And that was just the first notification in her inbox.

Within moments of the story breaking, media groups ranging from CNN to local Tayseri news outlets descended like pack animals on a hunk of fresh meat. Twilight’s omni-hoof was constantly being updated with requests for comment; every time she deleted one without reading it, half a dozen more would pop up. It also didn’t help that in between all the junk, there were messages from her own people, either commending her for sticking up for the Herd, or expressing their belief that Applejack deserved more than a slap on the fetlock for her actions.

Twilight’s eyes were starting to sting as she quickly read over a hastily drawn up report about how Applejack was having issues keeping the press away from the work areas in Tayseri before she finally reached her breaking point. She mentally commanded her omni-hoof to shut down, becoming aware of her own body’s mounting fatigue.

“This is a nightmare...” she moaned piteously, putting her head down on her desk as she tried to ignore the slight ringing in her ears; yet another sign that she was long overdue for some shuteye.

“I agree, Twi. However, considering how last night’s and this morning’s events might have turned out, things could be far worse,” Forty-Two tried to reason, which might as well have fallen on deaf ears. “Director Applejack has returned to her duties, and the political fallout from the crime itself has been overshadowed in the news by the unfortunate events developing on the planet of Taetrus.”

“That’s true… though it’s hard to feel thankful, given the circumstances...” Twilight admitted, reminding her of the recent headline that had broken earlier that day. A turian transport had been hijacked by terrorists, who overrode the ship’s safety protocols in order to use it as a missile, ramming it into the aforementioned colony world’s capital city at near-FTL speeds.

The casualty numbers alone nearly made Twilight sick to her stomach, but what made it hit particularly close to home was the fact that Taetrus happened to be the place where Lieutenant Pyres was born. The turian himself had been understandably upset by the news.

Unable to keep a sense of melancholy out of her tone, Twilight spoke up to her assistant, already dreading what he would have to say. “What else will I have to deal with today?”

“Golden Harvest of the Agricenter wishes to speak with you about the events of this morning, and the potential damage that could be done by--”

“It can wait.” Twilight put her forelegs over her head, intuition telling her that Applejack’s most prominent rival was probably just jockeying to gain leverage over her position.

“D.A. Heartstrings has requested some time to propose a codified set of laws adapted primarily from the Systems Alliance Constitu--”

“Reschedule her.” Twilight huffed again, raising her head and glaring at the changeling, who showed no reaction to her ambivalence. “Is there anypony on the schedule that doesn’t have an issue related to Applejack? I’ll take anything. Anything, just so I can focus on something other than this!”

Forty-Two hesitated for a moment as he ran over the records, attempting to filter the recent requests for the unicorn’s attention and only coming up with one that fit her stated criteria.

“Mrs. Mallene Calis, an asari corporate representative, has made repeated attempts to set up an appointment over the last four days. My records indicate she is present in New Ponyville as we speak,” Forty-Two answered.

“Fine… Contact her and tell her that I’ll see her immediately.”

“If I may make a suggestion, wouldn’t you rather get some sleep? You look like you could use it.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow at the changeling. “Really, Forty-Two? I have serious doubts in my ability to sleep with all of this going on. At least let me focus on something that will take my mind off of Applejack.”

Forty-Two’s eyes narrowed on the unicorn, the illumination thinning. “As you wish, Madam President, as long as you promise to at least try and get some rest afterwards.”

“Or what? You’re going to shut me down again?” Twilight breathed out heavily, clearly annoyed. “I have a job to do; responsibilities to keep up with! This isn’t the first time I’ve pulled all-nighter, Forty-Two. I’m fine… Just bring in Mrs. Calis.”

Forty-Two paused, keeping a close watch of the unicorn’s vitals as her heart-rate spiked and her irritation indicated more at work on her frayed nerves than simple fatigue.

For the time being, the changeling considered that it would be best to acquiesce and began to compose an invitation for the impromptu meeting.

——————

Twenty minutes later, Twilight was sitting back in her seat, going over the data packet that Forty-Two had prepared for her in regards to this meeting. She claimed it was because she literally had no idea who this woman was or what she could possibly have wanted to speak with her about, but it was just as much an attempt to keep her focused on something in front of her, lest she start nod off before the meeting began.

There wasn’t much to go on, other than basic biographical information. Mallene Calis was an asari businesswoman under the employ of the Armali Council, a biotics research enterprise. Over the past few days, she had been logged as visiting New Ponyville on a number of occasions, and it didn’t take much digging to find out why: Armali Council was just one of a number of R&D firms currently in talks with Fluttershy over some kind of business arrangement, the details of which were apparently private. Beyond that, there was no indication of what the asari’s intentions were, but Twilight would soon find out.

At some point while reading, Twilight’s eyes started to itch from her prolonged staring at the holographic display of her omni-hoof, and she reached up to rub them tiredly.

She shouldn’t have been this tired, Twilight thought. Sure, she was under a lot of stress at the moment, but this was similar in a lot of ways to her late-night study sessions back when she was studying in the Academy in Canterlot. Or more recently, when she would come across an intriguing piece of literature on the extranet that she absolutely could not put down until finished. She just needed to power through.

A pleasant chime from near her office door brought Twilight’s attention back to the present, and she switched off her omni-hoof while she reached down to smooth out her suit-coat.

“Come in,” she said, trying to banish her drowsiness through sheer force of will and project an alert and calm manner.

The door’s holo-lock turned green, sliding open to reveal the light blue asari woman, her outfit fully encompassing with a bright canary yellow along her sides and a thick stripe of red running down from the top of her neck to the bottom of the dress, which covered her feet.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Calis. Welcome to New Ponyville.”

“Madam President Twilight Sparkle, the pleasure is all mine.” The asari nodded as she moved to the small chaise placed on the other side of the desk, sitting down and crossing her legs in a polite manner. “Thank you again for agreeing to speak with me. Would you by any chance know why I am here?”

Twilight gave the alien a slight sideways glance at her forwardness. “Not specifically… But I assume it has something to do with the Armali Council, and the talks they are involved in with my Director of Interspecies Relations.”

“You’ve done your research. I’m impressed…” Mallene folded her hands together on her lap, straightening her posture. “Indeed, I currently represent the Armali Council in a joint conglomerate venture between them and the Serrice Council, in regards to a possible business arrangement with the Equestrian Herd.”

“Would you care to specify what kind of business arrangement?” Twilight asked suspiciously.

“Of course. As you well know, both Armali and Serrice are big names in the field of biotics; specifically in regards to biotic amplifiers and related products. To put it simply, we want to begin a research initiative into the biotic potential and utility of your people.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed and her expression soured a bit. “You mean you want to study us.”

“Oh, Goddess forbid,” Calis spoke up, raising her hands defensively. “Nothing so banal, I assure you. All we are asking for is to be the first to gain exclusive rights to the development, production and distribution of products tailored to your species’ unique attributes. I might also add that we are hardly alone; several of our competitors are also interested in the same.”

Twilight blinked a few times, fending off her drowsiness while attempting to sort through what it was the representative was telling her. “I… see. And I trust that Fluttershy is aware of this as well?”

“That is correct. Talks with your Director are currently ongoing.”

The Madam President shifted back in her seat, raising her chin at the asari. “Then why are you coming to me? Fluttershy should be perfectly capable of making an informed decision about who and who not to do business with.”

“Not to insult your friend’s business savvy, but I must disagree with you on that,” Mallene put bluntly. “To be perfectly frank, I believe the Director is in danger of… I believe the expression is: ‘having the wool pulled over her eyes,’ so to speak.”

“Just what are you implying?” Twilight asked, wondering what gave the asari woman the audacity to insult her friend’s diplomatic abilities.

“I’m saying that Armali-Serrice’s competitors, if you could even call them that, will no doubt resort to any number of underhanded tactics to make them seem preferable over ourselves, and each other. They are no doubt filling your friend’s head with empty promises and bluster for what will inevitably end up in an inferior product.”

Twilight crossed her hooves together. “And you aren’t?”

“There is no need. Our reputation for quality and unmatched performance speaks for itself,” Calis went on to explain, a touch of pride entering her voice. “The Asari have had centuries to perfect this sort of research. We are simply the best in the business.”

The businesswoman then looked around casually, before leaning forwards slightly and dropping her voice just a tad. “A majority of our competition are human-based firms. Not to sound speciesist, but the Humans didn’t even know what biotics were until forty years ago. Companies like Kassa Fabrication used to deal exclusively in high-end engineering and technology, only jumping on the biotics bandwagon when they thought they could corner the market on amps designed for human physiology. If you need any further convincing, take a look at their L1 and L2 model implants. You’ll see exactly what I mean. These are the sorts of things our competition will try their hardest to keep from the Director.”

The Madam President merely stared through the asari woman’s pitch, fighting the urge to yawn. “This is all very fascinating, Mrs. Calis, but what, if anything, does this have to do with me specifically?”

“The reason I’m telling you this, Madam President, is because you are in the unique position to affect the outcome of this venture,” Calis stated. “Director Fluttershy will eventually make a choice… but you are her superior; the Equestrians’ highest authority. You can help her to make the right one.”

Twilight had to resist the urge to bring her hoof to her snout as the asari’s motivation became fully apparent. “...You want an endorsement.”

“That’s not how I would have put it, but if that’s how you wish to interpret it, then yes.” Before the unicorn could say anything to follow up, Calis continued, able to sense that her initial pitch was not terribly successful. “Before you dismiss this out of hand, at least let me present my case fully. I am not looking to coerce you; simply to make sure that you have a clear view of all of your options… You have as much at stake here as Armali-Serrice does, perhaps even more so.”

The Madam President stared hard at Mallene’s practiced poker face, which not once during the encounter had faltered even in the slightest. Either she honestly believed what she was saying, or she was good. Really good.

As much as she wanted to simply end the meeting right then and there, something in the back of Twilight’s mind made her pause. She supposed… what was the harm in hearing her out?

“...Alright. You have five minutes. Talk.”

“More than I’ll need.” Calis got to her feet, and began to slowly pace back and forth in front of the desk as she went about explaining. “Should Armali-Serrice be successful in securing the contract, our finest and most qualified researchers will begin working immediately to develop Equestrian-specific biotic utilities, in conjunction with your own scientists, if you should feel so inclined. Given the resources and experience at our disposal, such research should produce tangible results far quicker than our competition.”

“True, there is a price to pay for quality, and our services do not come cheap. But rest assured, you will get what you pay for.” The representative turned to face Twilight directly, and her features lightened into a practiced, disarming smile. “In addition, the moment our efforts bear fruit, we are prepared to offer below-market rates on the resulting biotic enhancements as part of the agreement.”

That got Twilight’s attention. For all Calis’ talk about her company’s pedigree for excellence, it could be argued that they very much deserved it. Off-the-shelf biotic amps were one thing, but if it were possible to outfit the Herd with the best of the best for less than it would cost otherwise…

“We would also be willing to cover all costs related to surgical implementation and recovery for those inclined to participate,” Mallene added. “As a courtesy, of course.”

Twilight held a hoof to her chin. She couldn’t deny the potential gain here, but she still bore some apprehension. Something about all of this still made her uneasy. “And you’re going to do all of that… as long as I agree to give Fluttershy my recommendation?”

“Whether or not you do so has no bearing on the terms of the contract; everything I’ve just told you is already part of the agreement. I am not here to try and bribe you, Madam President.” The asari turned around, facing the desk and leaning slightly forward as she lowered her voice. “Everyone else will be making similar offers, but we are the only ones that can make good on it. With so much at stake… are you truly prepared to make an unwise choice?”

The asari’s question struck a chord with the unicorn, causing her to tense as she looked away. The simple answer was no.

The Reapers were coming. Weeks, months, perhaps years down the line, but Twilight had no doubts about the fact that the clock was ticking. When that day arrived, the very survival of her ponies could hinge on them getting every advantage they could get their hooves on. And augmenting their already prodigious biotic abilities with top-tier technology had the potential to make a major difference.

But it couldn’t just be that simple. Nothing about this world was. One thing was for sure, though: She was definitely going to give this some serious consideration.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about...” Twilight said, taking a breath as she struck a fine balance between denial and acceptance of the proposal. If the blue woman was feeling any sense of victory, she kept it well hidden behind a straight face. “I think that will conclude this meeting. I appreciate you coming to meet with me, and I’ll be sure to look into the matter further.”

“Of course, Madam President.” The asari bowed her head slightly to the unicorn. “Thank you for your time, and I hope that you will be willing to give the situation the proper consideration it deserves.”

Without another word, the asari swept out of the room, the door admitting her before closing and sealing itself behind her.

Forty-Two, who had stood mute and still as a statue at the side of Twilight’s desk throughout the entire exchange, suddenly blinked and turned towards the unicorn, who was now laying back on her chaise lounge on her back, her forelegs folded up against her chest.

“That was… unexpected,” Forty-Two started, his tone hesitant and unsure. “Regardless, will you be heading back to your apartment shortly?”

“Forty-Two, get me everything we have in regards to these biotic research proposals.”

“I’ll prepare an information packet for your perusal tomorrow morning, once you’ve gotten some proper--”

“As soon as possible, Forty-Two. I’m not going to sleep yet.” Twilight shook her head, again forcing the gnawing exhaustion down. “This is important.”

“I…” Forty-Two paused, taking note of the determination in his mistress’ eyes and the sudden spike in her vitals. In particular, the sudden off-kilter surge in her adrenal levels, which indicated she wasn’t going to be sleeping any time soon. “...As you wish, Madam President.”

——————

Archived log: 42 of 50 - Day 61 A. E.

Location: outside the Madam President's apartment

Status: idle

At some point later in the day, Twilight eventually conceded that her lack of sleep might have been affecting her cognitive faculties, and Forty-Two was more than relieved to see his mistress to her apartment suite for a well-deserved break. He bid her goodnight, then assumed his dutiful guard position outside her door as it closed shut.

Some time later, he was in the exact same position, waiting. But much like Twilight herself, Forty-Two found himself having a hard time getting away from the strain of the day. Just like Twilight, he couldn’t help but be preoccupied by the status of the Herd as a whole, and how comparatively little he could do on his own to better the situation.

And as he usually did in order to escape the pressures of his position (as long as it was safe to do so), Forty-Two turned his attention inward. To an archived memory file that never failed to cheer him up whenever the need arose…

“What are you doing out here this early, filly?” a familiar, deep and authoritative tone spoke out with some amusement. “You should be in bed.”

“I’m not sleepy. I want it to be tomorrow faster.” Another voice. Pure, innocent, and with a slight lisp. “So I’m pushin’ the moon with my bioticals!”

Forty-Two’s vision turned to the side, looking upon the cerulean-coated filly who was standing with her hooves on the balcony rim.

“The effective range of a five year-old equine’s developing biotics is one-point-five meters. Such an action is impossible for you, Mistress Astrolia,” he remembered saying. His tone so jagged, so certain…

So wrong.

“Nuh-uh! Watch!” the little one shot back. She clenched her eyes shut as the tiny spiral poking out between her mane glowed weakly with an azure light. “Unnnngh… See? It moved!”

“This unit recommends you not strain yourself over--”

“It’s fine, Unit Forty-Two...” The elder tone tapped the mech on the side, indicating for it to cease, which the changeling obeyed without hesitation. “Well now, Little Moon… Do you really think you can push that big ol’ rock across the sky before dawn comes?”

“Sure can!” the filly responded enthusiastically.

“And all of the stars too?”

“And all a’ the stars too!”

The changeling stood mutely, its astrometric sensors trained on the planet’s moon to ensure that, despite its mistress’ declarations to the contrary, the satellite was still orbiting at its normal velocity within a .0000003% margin of error. Yet, as it was bidden, the mech said nothing.

And as the night went on... the changeling watched over the pair as the little filly’s horn continued to glow, and slowly but surely, the moon and stars--

*Archival browsing discontinued*

Forty-Two was shaken from the long since archived video log by a series of alerts that asserted themselves into his priorities. After a second to review what had so suddenly ended his playback, he found that the alerts had been sent via a program that he himself had designed and inserted onto the extranet.

Specifically, it was a benign autonomous function, created to monitor the Equestrians’ public extranet site for unusual activity. Most of the time it served its purpose in thwarting run-of-the-mill viral attacks and deleting the occasional inflammatory comment on the site’s message boards, but a quick review of the current situation revealed it as anything but “run-of-the-mill.”

Right now, as he skimmed through hundreds upon hundreds of threads and comments made over the past half hour, the mech found himself shocked by the sudden increase in negative feedback and irrational statements. The sheer volume of activity alone was taxing Forty-Two’s logical matrices, and it took longer than it should have for him to narrow down the root cause of all of it.

A few pages of navigation later, and Forty-Two came across what it was that had stirred up the extranet into a frenzy: some kind of documentary that had just finished airing on multiple sources across the Citadel and beyond.

After finding and downloading a bootlegged video-link, and playing the first five minutes of content, Forty-Two was aghast at what he was seeing. And the longer it played, the more his eyes would have widened, had they not been fixed in place.

With reluctance, he realized that this was something Twilight had to be made aware of… regardless of its unsavory nature and the fact that he very much doubted her ability to sleep afterwards.

“Madam President--” Forty-Two stated over an audio-link to the Madam President’s omni-hoof. He was not surprised when he was immediately interrupted.

“For the love of Celestia… WHAT!?” the disgruntled, rudely awakened unicorn on the other end shouted with such vigor that the changeling could hear it through the plastisteel door.

“We have a new problem.”

——————

Two hours later, the video feed downloaded off the extranet was playing on the modestly large holographic vid-screen inside the Madam President’s apartment. Sitting in front of the screen were three mares, each in various states of dishevelment and none of whom having had the time to dress properly when they received the urgent summons. Twilight, Fluttershy, and Rarity all remained stock-still as they watched the video play on with all of the horror and fascination of a trainwreck.

A well-made and very sharply edited trainwreck, at that. The video took on the premise of a documentary; one that focused almost exclusively on the Equestrians as a species. But it was soon clear that being informative was on the lower end of this broadcast’s priorities, as just the first few minutes of the video revealed it to be a shameless, blatantly critical series of conspiracy theories and dubious “facts” pertaining to the Equestrians’ origins and motives.

But while there had indeed been radical theories posited before, in the dark corners of the extranet where such ideas were given voice and acceptance, this was the first time that such ideas were meant to be seen and heard by major populations. It had all the hallmarks of a typical documentary; interviews with experts, presentations of evidence, and video mockups of “how it could have happened.” But while it was all disgusting and inflamatory on its face, the assembled ponies couldn’t deny that it was at the very least convincing.

“And in the end, what you must ask yourself is…” a mockingly serene asari voice announced as the vid drew to a close, the final images fading to black. “...is it worth the Cost of Grazing?”

There were no production credits, as the vid simply ended right there. The silence in the Madam President’s apartment was deafening for several moments before the first of the three mares managed to find her voice.

“I am going to destroy them!” Rarity declared, trembling from tail to withers with sheer indignation.

“Get in line, Rarity. You can have what’s left of them when I’m done.” Twilight’s glower was nearly the same intensity as it had been the night before about this time, when Forty-Two had brought the issue with Dr. Hern to her attention. Of course, the fact that she had had a grand total of seventy-one minutes of sleep in that timeframe likely didn’t help, and it was beginning to show.

“Just what in Celestia’s name was that supposed to be? Was that what passes for journalism in this galaxy?” Fluttershy stomped her hoof, her own agitation just as apparent, but more muted than her friends as she shook her head, as if trying to dislodge some of what she had just watched from of her brain. “This is fiction! How was this even made? Who could do such a thing?”

“Good question. Forty-Two?” Twilight turned to the mech, who had been waiting for the inevitable request. “Please tell me you have something.”

“Data compiled,” the changeling chirped, trying to retain a neutral tone.

“Okay. First off, what is this?” Twilight asked him as he stepped forward and into the impromptu meeting that was being held near Twilight’s bed.

“Aside from a complete and total insult to our entire species,” Rarity added, as if expecting that to be the mech’s first observation.

“The Cost of Grazing was produced by a turian-volus centric media outlet known as Hard-Press Media, which operates out of Aroch Ward on the other side of the Citadel. Their portfolio and previous works indicates an excessively conservative-aggressive viewpoint on the vast majority of galactic political subjects.”

“Previous works? You mean they’ve made other things like this?” Fluttershy asked, disgust clear in her voice.

“Previous works attributed to the studio’s production centers include Relay 319: The True Story, which appears to be a historically inaccurate reimagining of the Human First Contact War; The Coup, which offers circumstantial evidence indicating that Saren Arterius was a patsy, and the Systems Alliance purposefully instigated the Battle of the Citadel in order to seize power from the Council ‘appeasers’; and Locusts, a three hour feature detailing the threat posed to the galaxy’s working class by quarian migrant workers.”

“Well, nice to know we’re not the first species to get this treatment,” Twilight all but sneered.

“So they’re just a bunch of xenophobic conspiracy mongers...” Rarity seemed relieved. “Good. With that kind of reputation, I find it hard to believe that anypony would take them seriously.”

“Hard-Press Media is counted among the top ten highest-rated media production outlets in Citadel Space,” Forty-Two informed the mare, whose head snapped towards him at the announcement. “And among the top six in Turian Hierarchy-controlled territories. Locusts premiered ten years ago, going on to win multiple awards from the Irune Cinematic Society.”

At this news, the Director of Culture let out a gagging, disgusted sort of sound. “How could those responsible for this manure possibly find an audience, much less win awards for it?”

“It’s repulsive, is what it is.” Fluttershy shook her head, bitterness clear in her tone.

“I have to agree, Fluttershy.” Twilight closed her eyes, her voice surprisingly calm. “And the worst part about it is… it carries just enough truth to make the rest of it seem plausible.”

Rarity did a double-take. “W-what was that? Twilight, do you have any idea what you’re saying?” The unicorn cast her hoof at the dormant display screen that had hosted the vile imagery. “That was nothing but two hours of lies! Lies and slander!”

“It was, don’t get me wrong,” Twilight put her hooves up defensively. “But almost everything they mentioned is related, however lightly, to some very real facts about us.”

“They claimed we were genetically engineered in a lab!” Rarity pointed out, drawing on the rumor that the Equestrians were the result of a secret human biotic super-weapon initiative.

“But… we are genetically engineered,” Fluttershy pointed out demurely. “...Kind of.”

“They said we were placed on the Citadel in order to infiltrate galactic society!” the mare went on, breathlessly turning to her pegasus friend. “That we are nothing more than part of a human plot to supplant the Council and take over the government!”

“Rarity, we came to the Citadel on a Cerberus ship,” Twilight spoke up. “It also doesn’t help that we share common DNA with Earth species, and that the system we originated from was ‘conveniently’ destroyed by the explosion of the Harmony Core. As it stands, there’s plenty for these people to use as ammunition against us, even if their take on the situation is an outright fabrication.”

“Bu… but…” Rarity stammered, looking between her two friends as she inevitably conceded that they indeed had a point. She sighed, her ears drooping down. “It’s still not fair…”

“You’re right, it isn’t,” Twilight said consolingly, placing a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. “But it’s done, and it’s out there on the extranet. There’s no stopping it now.”

“What I want to know…” Fluttershy started. “...is why? Why do all of this? What could anyone possibly stand to gain from stirring up fear and suspicion about us?”

“Based on available information, this unit has formulated a hypothesis,” Forty-Two answered the Director, making it seem like he was interpreting a command instead of speaking of his own volition. “Hard-Press Media is a publicly owned enterprise, and a majority of its financial backers are businesses originating from Hierarchy and volus territories.”

“Wait, don’t tell me…” Twilight’s expression soured, and she grit her teeth together.

“Among these, Expanding Reaches is the largest, with a fourteen percent stake in the company,” Forty-Two confirmed in spite of Twilight’s explicit desire for him not to do so.

“Jex Kailer.” Fluttershy gave a disgusted huff that easily matched Twilight’s expression. “It seems so obvious now.”

“I’m sorry, who?” Rarity looked between her two friends, clearly in the dark.

“Long story. Let’s just say that Jex is a volus big-shot with a lot of money and a particular dislike for the Herd.” Twilight shook her head again. “Do you remember the grand opening? There was that salarian we caught trying to smuggle in monitoring equipment.”

“Oh, yes… Something about corporate espionage, wasn’t it? Rainbow and Lt. Pyres arrested him.”

“And that’s not the worst of it,” Fluttershy mentioned. “It seems like every other day, Expanding Reaches is harassing me. Either asserting that we’ve gotten ahold of their employee roster and are discriminating against their employees, or filing legal notices and trying to evict us from the district.”

“Seriously?” Rarity levelled a surprised glance at the pegasus. “Based on what?”

“Everything from asserting that animals can’t own property, to something about habitat requirements for herbivorous quadrupeds, and some sort of tax issue I didn’t really understand.” Fluttershy shrugged. “Nothing they’ve tried to levy against us has stood up in court so far, especially since Lyra’s been helping me sort things out on the legal end. I’m not surprised that Kailer’s resorted to a smear campaign.”

“But none of that really matters at this point,” Twilight interjected, trying to shift the issue back to the present. “What we need to figure out is how we’re going to respond.”

“Do we really need to respond to something like this?” Fluttershy suggested, which drew ire in her direction from both mares. “I mean, maybe we should just wait and see what happens.”

“It isn’t that simple, Fluttershy,” Twilight countered, slightly disappointed yet not terribly surprised by the pegasus’ suggestion. “Sitting back and watching everything play out wouldn’t have worked with the krogan a few weeks ago, and it’s not going to work here.”

“This is different.” The Director of Interspecies Relations shook her head. “And it calls for a different approach. This video wasn’t meant for us, it was made for a very specific audience.”

“Idiots and bigots?” Rarity crinkled her nose in disgust.

“The ignorant and the spiteful,” Fluttershy corrected, although in her currently fuming mood, Twilight couldn’t say she saw much difference. “Do we really want to dignify this with a response?”

“But we have to respond,” Rarity stated immediately. “I’m not about to just let these hate-mongers sully our good names! I won’t stand for it!”

“So what do you suggest we do?” Twilight asked, trying to keep her expression neutral in an effort to hide her exhaustion.

“I say we call a press conference in response. Get ahead of the story, as it were,” Rarity continued as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Fight fire with facts. We’ll route them off at every lie. If they think they can get away with this outlandish scheme, they have another thing coming!”

“I admire your passion, Rarity, but I don’t think that’s the best way to handle this,” Twilight cut in, halting her friend’s momentum. “A lot of the things we would need to clear up reach into some… sensitive topics.”

“You mean like our need to clothe ourselves in public? We’ve been down this road before, darling.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Not that kind of sensitive… I’m talking about our origins, the reason we’re here in the first place, the reason behind a lot of our admittedly porous history. The Council’s warned us about making too much of our “claims” public knowledge, even if it is the truth.”

“So you’re going to agree with Fluttershy, then?” Rarity sneered, clearly not pleased with the idea. “You can’t honestly be suggesting we simply let this go, are you?”

The Madam President’s eyes narrowed aggressively, making the tired lines around their edges even more pronounced. “Buck no… I say we sue them.”

Rarity, Fluttershy, and even Forty-Two turned to look at the lavender unicorn, who was strangely calm in spite of the malice in her tone.

“Sue? As in… take Hard-Press to court over this?” Fluttershy tilted her head worriedly. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Of course it is. You all saw what they said! If that isn’t outright slander, then I don’t know the definition of the word.” Twilight pointedly folded her forelegs across her chest. “At the very least, they’re guilty of incitement! They pretty much stopped just short of calling for an armed insurrection to oust us from the Wards!”

“Twilight,” Rarity cautioned, able to tell that the lavender unicorn was starting to sound a little sensational. “You really should think this through. Hard-Press Media is a large corporation that no doubt has an army of lawyers at their disposal.”

“Your point?” Twilight snapped.

“To put it bluntly, all we have is Lyra, unless we can find the credits to hire someone else.”

Twilight was about to retort, but Rarity was right. It just took her a few seconds to realize it. Her bravado sufficiently punctured, her tone shifted to a more somber one. “Yeah… I guess you’re right…” she sighed, rubbing her face with a hoof.

Both Rarity and Fluttershy gave each other a worried look, apparently coming to the same conclusion.

“Are… you feeling okay, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked.

“Of course I’m okay,” Twilight said defensively. “What makes you think I’m not?”

“Twilight…” Rarity started, worry apparent in her eyes. “When was the last time you slept? Really slept I mean, not that ‘study-time’ power napping you used to do.”

“I… It doesn’t matter. Look, maybe sueing isn’t the answer, but perhaps a public denouncement… Come at them aggressively and show that we aren’t going to--”

“Twilight, you're starting to ramble.” Fluttershy moved up to Twilight’s side. “We’ll still wait on you before making a decision, but right now, you’re not thinking clearly.”

“You know that you don’t always make the best decisions when you’re emotional, Twilight,” Rarity continued. “Adding on top of that everything you’ve had to handle today regarding Applejack...”

Twilight’s ears flattened as she fixed the other unicorn with a stern look. “Yeah, thanks, Rarity. Because I really needed to be reminded of that.”

“This can wait until morning, Twilight. Please, try to get some sleep,” Fluttershy implored, getting to her hooves. “As it is, I think I’m going to turn in as well.”

“But--”

“In the morning, darling. Clearer heads will prevail, and all that.” Rarity yawned daintily into her hoof.

“I…” Twilight sighed, feeling her body relax, joints burning painfully as she did so and her head feeling like it was full of cobwebs again. “A-alright. I’ll see you girls in the morning, first thing… so we can address this issue.”

“We’ll wait for your call.” Fluttershy nodded as she turned and moved to the door, which slid open immediately.

“And don’t worry, Twilight,” Rarity assured her friend. “Tomorrow will be a better day.”

The two ponies, having bid their goodnights, proceeded home to their own apartments, leaving Twilight alone with her assistant. The silence was nearly deafening, but it did nothing to help quell the maelstrom of thoughts in her head, demanding her attention.

“Twilight, perhaps I should--” Forty-Two started.

“Outside, Forty-Two,” the unicorn said blankly, picking up her heavy hooves and making her way to her bed.

“But…”

“Please…” The Madam President dragged herself on the bed, drawing the sheets tightly around her and curling up with her legs against her chest. “I want to be alone.”

Forty-Two spent a number of seconds searching for the right words, but he came up with nothing. He lowered his head, the illumination in his eyes dimming.

“Complying, Madam President.” He stated simply, turning and moving out the doors himself. The moment he passed the threshold, they snapped shut, the red hologram lock buzzing as it went into place.

As he stood vigil that night, Forty-Two kept a constant watch on his Mistress’ vitals, disturbed by the fact that, in spite of her blatantly obvious exhaustion, it was plainly obvious that she wasn’t resting. Clearly, the events of the day and other heavily weighing burdens had pushed the unicorn harder than anypony had realized.

Tomorrow will be a better day.

If Forty-Two didn’t know any better, Rarity’s words sounded an awful lot like tempting fate.

Author's Note

Directive Decision
The Deal with Biotics

It has been brought to the Madam President’s attention that a number of corporate biotics research interests have propositioned Director Fluttershy as of late. Specifically at issue is the potential of Equestrian biotics, or rather, their untapped potential. Firms such as ExoGeni Corp, Kassa Fabrications, and the Armali and Serrice Councils have expressed interest in studying members of the Herd, researching the specifics of their physiology and assessing their physical limitations. The end result of this research: biotic amplification implants being made available for the Equestrian market.

As Mrs. Calis so bluntly put it in her meeting with the Madam President, Armali-Serrice has a great deal more experience, larger budgets, and experts with centuries of biotic study behind them. She has made the assertion that Armali-Serrice is the only company amidst the dozen or so that can back up their offer, and that they are the obvious choice. She has, however, expressed doubt that Fluttershy will see it the same way, as other companies may attempt to match their offer, yet few will be able to follow through with the same degree of reliability.

For example, Kassa Fabrication’s Biotics Research Division manages barely a fraction of what Armali-Serrice can provide, but they are willing to offer a sizable portion of all proceeds resulting from patents, rights, and royalties attributed to both the research garnered from Equestrians and its potential applications. A generous offer, to be sure, but there is no guarantee that results beyond Equestrian-specific products can be expected. Other companies in the same situation will likely be making similar pitches, and it is impossible to accurately judge which ones are sincere, and which ones are simply wishful thinking.

As it seems, there are three possible options:

Option A: Endorse the Armali-Serrice Deal - Mrs. Calis was undeniably right about one thing: Director Fluttershy holds the Madam President’s opinion in high regard. There is a high likeliness that, should Twilight voice a recommendation for their offer, Fluttershy will agree. This will result in Armali-Serrice obtaining the contract, and with it, the Equestrian Herd can expect their sizable resources to begin right away. In a relatively short time, we are expected to have access to high-quality amps and associated products produced by the firm for a discounted, yet still substantial, cost.

Option B: Inform Fluttershy - While no attempts were made at bribery or coercion, Mrs. Calis’ attempt to sway the Madam President personally might be a sign of desperation. It is clear that Armali-Serrice wants this deal and wants the exclusive rights to the Herd’s biotic potential as much, perhaps more so, than their competition. Informing the Director of the attempted appeal to her higher authority will likely sour her own view of Armali-Serrice’s offer. While the effort is not morally questionable in and of itself, Fluttershy might not see it that way, and will likely find it grounds for immediate rejection.

Option C: Do Not Interfere - The Madam President can simply decide not to act on this information. As a result, Fluttershy will make her decision given her own understanding of the situation and purely on her own judgment. All offers will be given equal consideration, regardless of their specifics.

Directive Decision
The Mudslingers

It seems we have become a bit too complacent in regards to Jex Kalier’s continuing crusade to claim New Ponyville as his own. In spite of the continued success of the Herd’s business interests (or perhaps because of it) the volus has instigated a smear campaign against the Equestrians. Hard-Press Media, which caters to an ultra-conservative galactic audience, has released a “documentary” on the Herd, entitled: “The Cost of Grazing.” The seeming objective of the piece is to paint the Herd in a wholly malicious light, playing on the public’s wariness and general mistrust of humanity and shining a spotlight on the connections between the two, while entertaining a host of wild and inflammatory theories. While a majority of the presentation consists of outright fabrication, there are just enough tiny splinters of truth buried inside to be taken seriously by the Citadel’s public.

To say the Madam President is upset would be a gross understatement.

The negative impact, coupled with the still fresh scandal involving Director Applejack (The timing of this release is far too convenient for this to be a coincidence.) is already having an effect on the New Ponyville extranet site that will likely soon spill into New Ponyville itself.

In spite of Directors Fluttershy and Rarity both insisting that Twilight rest and not take any rash action until morning, it is clear that this issue has kept her awake throughout the night. Although what conclusion she has come to after her ample time to think over the problem, one can only speculate.

Running predictive model of Madam President’s reaction...

Public Awareness Campaign: “The only way to fight ignorance is with facts!”
Aggressive Approach:“We won’t take this lying down. They had better be ready for a fight.”
Do Nothing: “We’re not even going to dignify this garbage with a response.”

::New Option Available::
:: Option presented by Silent-Judge::

A new option has become available following review of the situation. Some weeks ago, before the Grand Opening of New Ponyville, the option was presented to officially open the district for media perusal. As per the Citadel's Wildlife Protection Laws under which New Ponyville was granted to the Equestrian Herd, the area is currently off limits to reporters and film-maker. At the time, the option to lift the ban was passed over in favor of the Director's Interview and has remained intact until now.
By lifting this embargo and inviting Ms. Wong back to the district to perform her 'District' Interviews, it may give a less defined measure of answers without adhering to a 'unified' governmental response to the 'Cost of Grazing' video. Earlier concerns of security leaks should be negligable as all Equestrians have been informed of the situation regarding sharing information related to the Reapers and Equestria, although the chance of such slips of the tongue remain.

The largest downside is that once the Media ban is lifted, that means that New Ponyville security will not be able to turn away reporters, filmmakers, and press at the docks as they have in the past. This means that members of the press less than friendly to our cause may also 'snipe in' for interviews or to gain footage of New Ponyville.
Given the circumstances, this is a risk that we may have to take.

Open Media Access to New Ponyville: "Forty-Two, get me Emily Wong at Citadel News Net."

VOTING IS CLOSED

::Results::

The Deal with Biotics

Endorse Amali-Serrice Deal: 22.9%
Inform Fluttershy: 18.8%
Do Not Interfere: 55.3%

==============

The Mudslingers

Public Awareness Campaign: 19.2%
Aggressive Approach: 6.9%
Do Nothing: 10.1%

Calculation Error: 63.8% unaccounted for.
Attempting to recalibrate predictive algorithms to find source of error.

Standby: Incoming transmission from M.P. Sparkle.

"Forty-Two, get me Emily Wong at Citadel News Network"

The Madam President has quite enough on her docket, and in spite of her own misgivings, will leave this matter in Fluttershy's hooves.

Apparently, the Madam President has come up with a new solution.

(Additional option provided by Silent-Judge. Thank you for your addition to the story.)

Arc 2 - Part 3: ...The Sky Falls

...The Sky Falls

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 65 A.E.

Present location: Huerta Memorial Hospital, Presidium

Status: processing data

Forty-Two of Fifty was well aware that perspective, above all else, was the key to understanding exactly what had preceded his current situation.

In the end, dissecting events such as those that had taken place over the last twenty hours would always be a matter of perspective. Having the right information was useless without the proper context through which to take it in. His own vantage during the events that occurred during the sixty-third and sixty-fourth days after the Exodus of Equestria was woefully lacking, but at least he wasn’t out of options in that regard.

Yet another case in which organics could not compare. No matter how observant, no matter how well connected, organic beings’ comprehension of the world around them was limited to what they themselves could experience with their own senses. Luckily, this was not true of synthetic life.

Over the course of his investigation, Forty-Two had a distinct advantage that even the greatest detectives of human fiction could only dream of: the ability to experience and review the perspectives of other synthetic sources. More than simply viewing a video recording or reading a transcript, he was capable of utilizing every available piece of information from every possible source and putting it together in ways that could only make sense to someone who could see all angles at once.

And right now, Forty-Two was pulling out all the stops. Nothing that could possibly be of any relevance to the current situation was being overlooked. While this meant that his investigation would surely take longer, it did allow him the chance to review seemingly unimportant details, such as the meeting that a very curt and tired Twilight had with Directors Fluttershy and Rarity the morning of the sixty-third.

It had been direct and to the point. Although some valid concerns were brought up in reference to the repeal of the media lockdown, the three mares came to a quick consensus that the Madam President's newly presented option would be best for all involved.

The second agreement at the table, which quickly brought the meeting to a close, was Fluttershy's assertion that the Madam President was in no condition to be taking on her daily schedule.

No matter how much Twilight tried to deny it, Director Fluttershy was unswayed as her sunken eyes and shortening patience were both impossible to miss, and were merely the most superficial signs of the physical and mental exhaustion that had was plaguing the unicorn. Even when Forty-Two had also attempted to support the Director with vital statistics and a log of her sleep (or lack thereof) over the past few days, Twilight had refused to hear it, instead proposing to move on to more immediate concerns.

And this troubled day would begin by calling in a favor.

——————

Archived Log: 42 of 50 - Day 63 A.E.

Location: Office of M.P. Twilight Sparkle

Status: Observation Mode

Twilight Sparkle sat at her office desk, ruing the day she had taken up this position of leadership over her fellow pony. Her outfit lay spread out in front of her while she let her fur air-dry after her “refreshing vapor shower” had failed to be as refreshing as advertised. She tried to ignore the fact that her ears were buzzing and she was finding it evermore difficult to focus on the lines of text on her omni-hoof's display.

It never stopped.

There were dozens upon dozens of calls for her attention: issues involving both the matters immediately at hoof amongst more mundane concerns. Golden Harvest was becoming more pushy and vocal in demanding a meeting while her upcoming security briefing with Dash and Pyres loomed like a hungry manticore over her schedule.

And then, to top it all off, a priority message from her Director of Technology threw everything into perspective. Just a single sentence, with an attachment that turned out to be a picture of what looked like a puddle of grayish, purplish goop.

I would have let you borrow it.

-PP

Perhaps it was because she was so tired, but that did manage to bring a soft smile to Twilight's face. It seemed like, no matter how much the world around her changed, she could always count on the former Element of Laughter to know just how to brighten her day, even if it was but for a fleeting moment.

And she had a point, too. Hidden in Pinkie’s little joke was a reminder of what was waiting for Twilight if she continued pushing herself to the brink. With increasing frequency, her friends were expressing concern over her apparent lack of rest, and as time wore on she found their advice to be more and more enticing. And she promised herself that, as soon as she took care of this one last thing, she would heed it, and head back to her apartment to escape beneath the covers of her bed.

First, however, she had a call to make.

In an instant, her neurally linked omni-hoof brought up the required contact information and sent out a ping over the Extranet. As the device chirped pleasantly, waiting for the human on the other end to answer, Twilight mused on how something so seemingly difficult as instantly communicating with someone tens of thousands of miles away could be accomplished with a single thought. Back in Equestria, she would’ve considered it nothing short of a miracle, and now, she found herself impatiently tapping a hoof on the floor as the seconds ticked by without an answer.

With a sudden, more high-pitched chirp and a short line of text indicating that the connection had been established, a panel on the holographic interface unfolded to reveal a familiar pale human woman smiling as she took note of who was on the line.

"Hello, Madam President. Sorry for the wait. Not many people know my private address, and I had to be sure it was you. Can’t be too careful these days," Emily Wong said in greeting. "Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"Good morning, Miss Wong," Twilight exchanged politely, trying to keep a smile and hoping that the bags under her eyes were not overly noticeable in the image. When calling someone hoping for a favor, it helped not to appear tired and/or desperate, even if she was both of those things. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I can imagine today’s been a big news day."

"Oh, you mean with what’s happening on Taetrus? Believe it or not, that actually means it’s a slow day for me." Emily shrugged, a motion that appeared strange due to the camera being mounted on her forearm. "I'm an investigative reporter, not a headliner. When stuff like this happens, all the airtime goes to the ones paid to sit behind the big desk, and anyone they can get on the scene." The human woman then sighed and shook her head morosely. “Still, I can hardly believe it, myself… All those people…”

Twilight winced slightly, a pang of guilt running through her chest as she considered how small and selfish her own motivations felt compared to the tragedy experienced in what the press had dubbed the “Vallum Blast.”

"I saw some of the footage from Taetrus. Is it as bad as it looks?" Twilight found herself asking.

"Even worse, according to some of our reports on the ground. A majority of the city’s now just a big, smoking crater, and the surrounding area didn’t fare much better. They’re still looking for survivors, but..." Emily's own mood was clearly soured for a moment before she bounced back with a slightly more muted smile finding it's way back to her face. "Anyway, I doubt you called me just to talk about that. What is it you need?"

"Well, no, I was--" Twilight had to pause to recollect herself, trying to keep her voice even and casual. "I’ve been in discussion with my Board of Directors, and we all agree that the time has come to ease up on the media ban in New Ponyville. If you’re interested, I wanted to invite you down to maybe do some of those interviews you were hoping for earlier?”

There was a moment of silence as Twilight held her casual smile in place.

But apparently, Emily wasn’t going to fall for that. “You saw The Cost of Grazing, didn’t you?”

Twilight’s smile faltered, her expression dropping dourly. “Oh… So you’ve heard about it?”

“There isn’t anyone who works at CNN who hasn’t heard about it,” Emily said candidly. “We pulled in massive ratings for that special we aired including the interview of your friends. When the Hard-Press video hit the Extranet, we were one of the first ones to be informed.”

Well, gee, thanks for the heads up, Twilight thought bitterly, but managed to keep the sarcastic remark off her lips. “I take it you’ve watched it, then?”

“Against my better judgment,” Emily said sarcastically. “If it makes you feel any better, your people are hardly alone in getting the ‘Hard-Press Treatment.’ They’ve been doing stuff like this for generations. And to be perfectly honest, that was almost tame compared to some of the stuff they say about the Quarians.”

"So I’ve heard." Twilight shook her head, her mood clearly soured. "I just don't understand how they can get away with… whatever it is they call it over there. Why would anyone even pay attention to such blatant indecency?"

"Hey, in a galaxy of trillions, you can find an audience for just about anything. In the case of interspecies media, being provocative is just a really good business model," Emily explained. "It also doesn’t hurt that they have backers in notoriously high places. There are defamation lawsuits against them that have been tied up in the courts so long, salarian lawyers have turned them into multi-generational family businesses."

"I see..." Twilight managed to keep her expression neutral even as she mentally cringed, grateful that her initial impulse to go after the purveyors of these lies more aggressively had been forced to the sidelines.

“So, let me guess,” Emily started again. “You want my help to tell the public your side of the story. I’m thinking… press conference? I might be able to convince our programming director to give you a decent timeslot.”

To this, Twilight couldn't help but scowl. "No, that’s not what I have in mind at all, actually. The last thing we as a people should do is get up on our soapbox and preach to an audience that’s pretty much already made up their minds about us.”

Emily seemed to consider this for a moment, one finger folded up over her lips as she soaked in the Madam President’s words. “Alright, Madam President,” she said, clearly having some trouble trying to determine what it was that Twilight was trying to accomplish. “So what did you have in mind?”

“Exactly what I said before.” Twilight took a deep breath, calming herself in order to try and be as articulate as possible. “An invitation to come down to New Ponyville and conduct the public interviews you asked about a few weeks back. To get an uncompromising view of who we are as a species from the mouths of the average pony.”

“Do you really think that will work in getting people to forget the documentary?”

“No, I don’t.” Twilight shook her head. “This isn’t about convincing people who’s right and who’s wrong. I just don’t want Hard-Press running the court of public opinion on us. We need to get our own story out there; to show who we really are. The people can then decide for themselves who they want to believe.”

“Well, it’s an admirable goal, I’ll give you that. And I want to help, Madam President. Believe me, I do. But it’s not just up to me,” Emily told the mare, her tone and expression apologetic. “Right now, anybody and everybody is talking about Taetrus. I doubt the higher-ups would be willing to divert company resources on such short notice to cover what amounts to a lifestyle piece. Not without some serious convincing, anyway.”

“I don’t suppose there’s something I can do to convince your superiors?” asked Twilight, feeling like her prospects were already dimming, fast.

“Hmm… That depends.” Emily looked off to the side, chewing on the inside of her lip while she gave it some thought. “What exactly are you offering?”

Twilight hesitated for a moment, debating on the implications of the simple question. She would be naive to think that something this pressing could be handled simply by asking. In this world, altruism was the exception, rather than the rule. Quid pro quo, as the humans termed it, was simply the natural order of things.

After weighing the pros and cons, Twilight eventually nodded, having made her decision. “All I can really offer is the gratitude of the leader of an entire species. And a promise that that gratitude might be repaid someday in the future.”

Twilight’s statement was instantly greeted by a smile from Emily. “When you put it that way, that’s quite an offer, Madam President. Give me a few minutes and I’ll see what I can do. Hold on.”

Twilight nodded in agreement, and soon after, the screen went blank as Emily put her on hold. Having no idea how long this was actually going to take, she had to resist the urge to occupy herself with some other program on her omni-hoof while she waited. This was not the time to get lost in another “Impossible” difficulty crossword puzzle.

And so she simply sat there, eyes trained on the blank orange panel as the minutes ticked by. It took some degree of effort not to start drifting off to sleep with the lack of stimulation, and her leg was starting to ache from holding it up for so long, but she persevered. Then, not three minutes later, a chime from her omni-hoof signaled that Emily had reconnected, and the reporter’s face suddenly relit the screen.

“Well?” Twilight asked, cautiously hopeful.

“Good news, Madam President!” Emily responded cheerfully. “I was able to convince my boss to run with your idea. Specifically, he said we can take the interview footage and fold it into our ‘Inside the Citadel’ Extranet series. It’ll be featured on the front page of our site, and will also get a mention or two during regular broadcast hours once it’s up. We can even link it to the site for New Ponyville if you’d like.”

“That sounds perfect.” Twilight breathed a sigh of relief, not bothering to hide the gratitude showing plain in her features.

“I can be ready an hour, then I’ll make my way down to New Ponyville. Is that alright with you, Madam President?”

“I don’t have a problem with that. I’ll meet you at the docks to make sure you’re properly set up. I can’t thank you enough, Emily. And please… call me Twilight from now on.”

“It would be my pleasure, Twilight. But don’t thank me yet,” the human journalist warned playfully. “I’m sympathetic with the Herd, but that doesn’t mean I can play it soft in these interviews. I’ll try to stay away from any sensitive topics, but everything else is fair game. I just wanted to make that clear.”

“I understand. We can talk more about it when you get here,” Twilight said, ready to end the call. “Until then, have a nice day, Emily.”

“You too, Twilight. And try to get some rest; you look a little tired.”

Before Twilight could try to rebut her, Emily severed the call, and the holographic display of her omni-hoof disappeared as it shut itself off. Her ear twitched a little out of annoyance; not that Emily had picked up on what she had desperately tried to hide, but that she waited until the last minute to mention it.

But, regardless, it was hard to argue with her recommendation. In the silence that followed, the ringing in Twilight’s ears had grown to almost deafening, and it took most of her concentration just to keep her vision focused.

In a rare moment of weakness, Twilight found that she couldn’t care less what happened in the next couple of hours. The Reapers themselves could show up at her doorstep, and her first response would be to ask them if they could come back after she’d had some rest.

Rest… That one thought triggered a series of reactions in the unicorn’s mind and body as they began conspiring against her ability to stay awake.

Instinctively, she placed her head down on the soft fabric of her outfit laying on her desk and closed her eyes. Briefly, she considered whether it would benefit her to try and make it all the way back to her apartment to an actual bed. Or, hay, there was a perfectly serviceable lounge seat directly behind her. But right now, her coat would do just fine. There was just one more thing to do before she surrendered herself to the darkness.

“Forty-Two… wake me up... when Emily… gets…”

Several seconds passed… until the next sound out of Twilight’s mouth was a soft, steady snoring.

——————

That right there was an image worth saving, and Forty-Two was glad that he did. There was just something about seeing his mistress, unceremoniously lying on her presidential outfit with only her head visible over the edge of her desk, that filled him with a sense of satisfaction. While Twilight might find the pose to be utterly unbecoming of her, Forty-Two found it endearing. Far too often, he would see her trying her best to be the no-nonsense leader she projected herself as, when in reality, it was the times that she let the facade drop when she could truly be appreciated for everything she meant to the Herd.

As was his duty, Forty-Two stood guard over the Madam President as she finally took the time to sleep. He didn’t dare interrupt her sorely needed rest, even going so far as to ignore her last command and instead sending a message to Director Rarity to meet Emily in her stead, consequences be damned. The only thing to disturb the sanctity of Twilight’s office was when Forty-Two sent for one of his fellow changelings to fetch a blanket for the slumbering unicorn. Other than that, he was content to spend his time monitoring the Extranet, reviewing status updates from the other drones, and occasionally entertaining himself with recordings of some of the highlights from the past few weeks.

In hindsight, what a waste of processing power it was. He should have been more proactive, more alert. There must have been something he could have picked up on then; some nugget of information that might have clued him in to what was about to happen. There was no way for him to know at the time… but there might have been. That was his failing, and his alone.

”You are not perfect, Forty-Two. You were never meant to be. Making mistakes is part of what makes you who you are. What makes you more than just a drone…”

Those words, spoken countless millennia ago by a brown-furred scientist who had been dead for nearly as long, bubbled to the surface of Forty-Two’s thought processes. Relevant, perhaps, but hardly conducive to his current task.

Forty-Two buried the memory. He still had a job to do.

He’d happened to be browsing the CNN Extranet page at that moment, searching for possible leads to continue his investigation. What drew him there was a headline further down the page, somewhat obscured by the Taetrus coverage still dominating the news cycle. It linked to a story that was supplemented by live video taken right at the scene in New Ponyville, from the camera that Emily was using to conduct interviews in the interim.

That interview footage, which was not yet available to the public since C-Sec confiscated the camera drone as evidence, was key to understanding everything leading up to that moment. Fortunately for Forty-Two, C-Sec’s evidence archives were only marginally harder to penetrate than their criminal database, and he got what he needed in a matter of seconds. He then set to work fitting that information into his already existing understanding of events.

Off camera, Emily Wong’s arrival in New Ponyville had been met with little fanfare, which was exactly what the Madam President had hoped for. She met with Director Rarity as soon as she disembarked, who took the liberty of informing the reporter of her suggested limits with regards to the Herd’s origin story, and a request to try and keep the changeling drones out of the shot as much as possible. Although she agreed to the latter without protest, an explanation of what the Council had deemed “classified” information was required to convince Emily not to pursue those lines of questioning.

Before the camera started rolling, Rarity invited Emily for a brief tour down Mane Street to show her how things were coming along, and to ensure that she could find her way around the area. After that, with her VI-controlled camera capturing every moment, Emily began her search for stories worthy of being put into the eventual finished product. This is where Forty-Two was now focusing his efforts, poring over the details of every single frame she captured.

No topic was too mundane, no pony too unimportant. Emily was indiscriminate in sniffing out interesting stories and ponies willing to tell them, with subjects ranging from business, to family, to even the developing Equestrian art scene.

One particular highlight was a conversation with a unicorn stallion named Glass Shine, who had taken up the art of creating dazzling stained glass works that were quickly becoming a hit in human and asari circles. The inquiries into his creative process then developed rapidly into an in-depth explanation of why solar and lunar symbols featured themselves so prevalently in his work, as well as being evident all around New Ponyville. It was the closest thing to an Equestrian Mythology to have developed since their arrival, and to say Emily was fascinated would be a gross understatement.

One thing that could not be denied in the three hour expose was that the Equestrians of the district were certainly eager to share, handling the attention with a mix of friendliness, thoughtfulness, and enthusiasm that was downright charming.

There were times when the topic of conversation dipped into dangerous territory, like when Emily asked a group of three younger mares for their thoughts on Director Applejack’s widely publicized misstep with the law. One of them confessed to not having been following the story all that closely, while another felt that, while what Applejack did was wrong, she trusted the situation was handled fairly by both C-Sec and Equestrian leadership. The third, who went unnamed in the interview but whom Forty-Two recognized as Golden Harvest, was very vocal in her belief that Applejack hadn’t been punished enough, even going so far as to say she didn’t deserve her place on the Board of Directors anymore. Emily wisely decided to shift topics after that.

In spite of a few encounters such as that, it was not difficult to see that Miss Wong was going out of her way to show the Equestrians as they were in their everyday lives. As was outlined before the interviews began, no mention was made of Hard-Press or their documentary, but if the purpose of this whole stunt was to show how the ponies on the Citadel were a far cry from the “animals,” “human sympathizers,” and “anti-government biotic usurpers,” they’d been painted as, then Emily had succeeded as far as Forty-Two could reckon.

As the recorded footage neared its end, Emily’s line of inquiry turned to the innocent question of why New Ponyville was still drawing such a high volume of traffic compared to the rest of Tayseri, which by Ward standards had remained a ghost town.

That was when, as they say, the manure hit the fan.

——————

--CNN Camera Drone; Model Number XT-907--

--Current Operator: Emily Wong--

--Payback Time Index: 2:59:17--

"So,” Emily asked, her summation of the abnormally large equestrian male's surprisingly well thought out response to her simple question. “It is your belief that the allure of New Ponyville comes not from the nostalgia of a new species present on the Citadel, but rather from the organic need for socialization which has been neglected in the streamlined and automated galactic community in favor of efficiency and profit?"

"Eeeyup."

"That is..." The reporter considered her term carefully, giving a sideways look at the camera drone hovering to the side of the pair as she digested the commentary. "...remarkably profound, actually."

"Ah have mah moments, ma’am," said the thickly accented red stallion, who had agreed to the interview but neglected to share his name. Pausing for a moment, the human took note as his ears twitched, swerving slightly on his head to catch something over the hustle and bustle of Mane Street's still packed central market area. "Beggin’ yer pardon, Miss Wong, ah gotta get back to it."

"Of course." Emily nodded, watching the stallion trot back towards a small, yellow coated pony in denim before turning back to the camera drone again. Having spent the better part of the late cycle interviewing random ponies along Mane Street and in the more industrialized “Dock” level, she decided it was time to bring the article to a close. In one swift, practiced motion, the young human woman brought up her arm, the omni-tool glowing orange as it imitated the microphone synonymous with human reporting and addressed the virtual audience directly. "And I think that concludes our look into an average day in New Ponyville. For now, this is Emily Wong for Citadel News Net: Inside the Citadel--"

"Emily! Hey! Emily! Hey, hey! Emily, over here!"

Surprised by the interruption, Emily turned, causing the VI-driven camera drone follow her line of sight. The reporter's confusion was replaced by genuine surprise as she quickly recognized the pink-maned and manically grinning pony galloping towards her, fully dressed in a stylized white coat and wearing a set of tinted goggles over her face.

"Well well, this is a pleasant surprise." Emily found herself smiling as well as she quickly regained her composure and resumed her “reporter” stance. Pinkie came up, sitting herself back on her haunches and causing the drone to shift its position higher, having to change its perspective to keep the standing human and sitting Equestrian together in the shot. "Good afternoon, Director Pinkie Pie. Nice to see you again."

"Is it already afternoon? You can’t really tell around here, can you? Everything's so bright all the time. What time is it?" Pinkie asked before bringing up her own omni-hoof to check. Then, in a whiplash manner that Emily well remembered from her first interview with Pinkie, the pony was back up on her hooves and smiling again. "Huh, so it is. Anyway, whatcha doing in New Ponyville, Emily?"

"I was invited to conduct some public interviews."

"Ohhhh, that sounds like fun!" The pink pony bounced slightly in place, a springy motion that looked like her hooves were coated in rubber. "Can I be next?"

"I was just wrapping up, but… I don’t see why I can’t squeeze in one more." The reporter nodded, mentally pumping a fist at the sudden appearance of a well known authority of the Equestrian Herd. That fact that it seemed entirely organic and spontaneous would also lend a greater impression of legitimacy to the interview. "Firstly, for those of our audience who might not be familiar, would you mind telling them who you are?"

"Okie-dokie-lokie." Pinkie grinned, reaching up with one hoof to lift the goggles from her face and exposing her brilliant, childlike blue eyes. "Hello, galaxy! My name’s Pinkamena Diane Pie, Equestrian Director of Technology. I’m also Founder, CEO, and Chief Technician of Sugar³ Technologies, and an avid Galaxy of Fantasy player to boot! To anypony out there who wants to friend me online, my player tag is--"

"Let me stop you there, Pinkie," Emily quickly interrupted, quick to prevent any possible fallout from Ionic Storm, the company that published the popular massively multiplayer Extranet game. "Needless to say you're very much involved in the creative and technical aspect of the Equestrian economy. In fact, the features of the omni-hoof and its unique Equestrian-exclusive apps have already gotten attention from other firms as works of genius."

"Sure, I guess you could put it that way," Pinkie shrugged modestly, having clearly never considered herself a genius.

"In that case, I’m sure I speak for a lot of us when I ask, what’s next? And will Sugar³ Technologies be stepping out into the galactic market anytime soon?"

"To the second part of that question, I’ll have to say, not yet." Pinkie shook her head, sighing softly. "Sugar³ is still trying to get its hooves wet in terms of production capacity, so to speak. Hay, I only have nine associates working at the place, plus me."

"And to the first part of the question?" Emily prompted curiously.

"Well, I can't exactly go into detail, but let's just say that we have something in the works that's going to give us a real... 'hand up' in the galaxy." Pinkie giggled slightly, amused by her little pun even as it was clearly lost on the reporter.

Still, there was nothing wrong with a little teasing, especially for any of the technically adept who were watching Sugar³ closely following the patenting of the omni-hoof and its accompanying neural interface. Deciding to move the questioning away from business, Emily then tried a different approach.

"So, Pinkie, take us through a day in the life of one of the leaders of New Ponyville."

"Oh, it's not to different from most folks here on the Citadel. I wake up, have myself a vapor shower, brush my teeth, eat a cookie, brush my teeth again, then it’s down to the lab for a little--”

*THOOM*

The reaction to the nearly deafening sound was immediate, as both Pinkie and Emily instinctively ducked to the ground. A moment later, a pressure wave caused the camera drone to rock slightly, while still focusing on Emily.

“What was that!? It sounded like an explosion!” cried the reporter.

“It wasn’t me!” Pinkie quickly retorted, eyes dancing around as surprised shouts emanated from everyone around them, ponies and aliens alike.

Emily’s hand shot out, pointing to somewhere off camera. “Over there! What’s…?” She trailed off, her face gradually morphing into a look of tenuous horror as her hand went to cover her mouth. She then swallowed and shook her head, getting a hold on herself before turning to look directly into the camera. “Switch to live feed, now! Patch it through directly to CNN! Top priority!”

--End of recording--

——————

Archived Log: 42 of 50 - Day 63 A.E.

Location: Office of M.P. Twilight Sparkle

Status: Observation Mode

A sharp, stinging ache stirred Twilight Sparkle unwillingly from her slumber as reality force itself upon her mind, and like any filly not wanting to leave the cool reprieve of dreamless rest, Twilight responded by trying to blatantly ignore it.

She did not want to wake up. She didn’t want to have to return to the almost constant stresses that demanded her attention. But as she shifted her weight, attempting to find that sweet, comfortable position again, the kink in her neck refused to go quietly. Realizing her awkward position, Twilight lifted her head suddenly, her drowsy mind still bogged down to the point she didn’t even startle when the silent sentinel in the room spoke up.

“Wakey-wakey, eggs and hay bakey,” a familiar synthesized voice chimed in with an annoyingly cheery tone as Twilight groaned, bringing a hoof up to massage the back of her neck.

“Unnghhh… I’m fine… I’m here! I was just… resting my eyes,” said Twilight, waving the offending metal pony away as she felt a twitch along her withers that sent the ache down the rest of her spine.

“Of course you were,” her mechanical assistant mused softly, a clear amusement in his voice.

Twilight shook her head again as she realized the futility of denying that she had dozed off. And to be honest, it really did not come as a surprise given how little sleep she had managed over the last three days. Unfortunately, it was also clear that her dalliance in the realm of dreams had done little to refresh her.

Twilight shook her head as she tried unsuccessfully to focus. She felt stiff all over and the kink in her shoulders was not going away as she tried to shift her weight forward and stretch her forelegs like a cat, eliciting with a soft groan.

“How long was I out?” the unicorn asked, still trying to get her bearings.

“Just under four hours.”

“Four hours?” That got her attention, and her posture suddenly shifted forward, forcing the blanket around her body to fall away. Her eyes widened as her mind kicked into gear, forcefully trying to shake off her weariness. “Oh, no! I was supposed to meet Emily before she--”

“Whoa, Twi. Settle down.” Forty-Two held up two hooves, speaking calmly in spite of Twilight rounding on him, flushed and huffing with indignation. “I took care of it for you, Twi. I sent word to Rarity and she met with Miss Wong when she arrived to inform her of the limits of the interviews. From what I can tell via the other drones in the area, she should be wrapping up soon. You can still stop by and meet her if you want.”

“...Oh.” Twilight halted for a second, absorbing what Forty-Two had told her and coming to realize that nothing was about to blow up in her face after she’d so carelessly dozed off. “Well, then. In that case, that’s what I’m going to do. Any news on what the interviews are about?”

“I don’t have any specifics. But I do have the article bookmarked for your viewing pleasure when it comes to air. However, once you’ve spoken with Miss Wong, might I recommend we retire to your apartment for the remainder of the the day? Laying across your desk like that is not doing your spine any favors.”

“Tell me about it.” Twilight stretched again, feeling a pop midway down her back as she rose from her seat and settled onto her hooves.

Her own discomfort aside, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a little optimistic as her horn came to light, slipping her coat on and effortlessly buckling the straps that held it to her front. She was still exhausted, sore, and could feel the weight of the whole district squarely on her back, but at least it seemed like things were finally starting to look up.

*THOOM*

Twilight Sparkle jerked at the noise, the muffled sound resonating all around her as a series of cracks echoed in the distance, the metal plating under her hooves vibrating ever so slightly.

Then, the office was dead silent again, only this time Twilight was wide awake, the fur on her neck standing on end.

“Forty-Two… what was that?” she asked, a note of dread creeping into her voice.

The changeling drone pitched his head to the side, antennae flashing while he left Twilight hanging for an answer a little too long for her liking.

“Forty-Two!”

The drone flinched, directing his optic lights at Twilight, but still unable to find a satisfactory answer. The information was still coming in, and he had barely any time to make sense of it himself yet.

But it turned out that he didn’t need to… the sound of an alarm siren, coming from somewhere in the distance, took care of that.

Her breath catching in her throat, Twilight turned slowly at the source of the sound, towards the window in her office that looked out at New Ponyville. Her hooves felt like they were moving through molasses as she stepped up to the glass, her senses muddled by the sound of blood rushing past her ears.

Once there, she didn’t blink. She didn’t move.

She could only look on in horror at the plume of thick, acrid smoke pouring forth from the docks.

It can’t be... came unbidden to her thoughts as, for one terrifying moment, worst case scenarios came pouring forth to the front and center of her mind.

“Madam President.”

An attack…? An accident…? Was it terrorists? Extremists? The Reapers? Was anypony hurt?

“Madam President!”

Oh, sweet Celestia, was anypony hurt!?

“Twilight!”

A cold, metal-clad hoof to the mare’s shoulder shocked her from her internal break, causing her to turn into the glowing, crystalline green eyes of her mechanical confidant. Letting go of a breath that she had not even realized she had been holding, the lavender unicorn shook her head, trying to clear the images conjured up in her mind in order to deal with what was right in front of her.

"We have to get down there!" Twilight demanded, adrenaline overtaking exhaustion as she was instantly up and galloping to the door. To her immediate aggravation, the moment she moved up to it, the door’s green “open” hologram buzzed, turning red. “What!? Why won’t this open!?”

"Stand by, Twilight. I’m currently gathering information," Forty-Two stated, his tone surprisingly suppressed and neutral given the situation. His processors were already working on overdrive to scan and analyze the various streams of data he was receiving from the changeling units throughout New Ponyville and beyond.

“Forty-Two, are you locking me in my own office!?”

“It’s for your own protection, Madam President,” the drone stressed, taking position next to Twilight’s desk. “Now please, step away from the door. I am receiving over twenty simultaneous high-grade data-feeds and coordinating the information for your briefing.”

“I don’t need a briefing, Forty-Two! And I don’t need protection! Now open the door!”

Of Twilight’s protests, Forty-Two had little doubt, but rather than argue the point with her, he began parsing the information as it came though.

"Multiple detonations have occurred within the New Ponyville Ward block. Fires have been reported breaking out across the Dock level and in several storage warehouses."

"Detonations, plural!?” Twilight’s thoughts were briefly diverted from her assistant’s blatant disregard for her authority as the details he provided crystallized the nature of the event. “Do you know what caused them!?”

“No. There isn’t enough data to confirm--”

“Then what’s the point in staying here!?” Twilight snapped. “We could be helping!”

Forty-Two continued, unperturbed. “C-Sec Emergency Services have been notified and are en-route. Fire suppression teams are also on the way to assist onsite changeling units currently containing the fires. They should arrive anywhere between ten to twenty-five minutes.”

“Ten to twenty-five minutes!?” Twilight made no effort to keep the anger from her voice. “What the buck is taking them so long!?”

“Per Citadel Emergency Protocols, the elevators connecting New Ponyville to the other districts have been disabled. The only way to bring assistance into the district is the Docks, and due to the ward’s general state of disrepair, the nearest C-Sec emergency dispatch station lies halfway across the ward itself.”

“All the more reason we’d be more useful on the scene ourselves,” Twilight huffed exasperatedly. “Open. The door!”

“Twilight…”

“Forty-Two, if you do not unlock this door, Luna help me, I will tear it open myself!”

The dangerous tone of voice Twilight used left no doubt that she intended to do just that. Faced with few other options outside physically trying to subdue her, Forty-Two stared hard into the eyes of his mistress, before finally backing down. With a single command sent to the door, the locking mechanism buzzed and turned green, allowing her passage.

Twilight immediately broke into a sprint, the changeling taking wing to keep up as she charged ahead. "Where is Pyres!?"

"Lieutenant Taxar Pyers was last logged by Two of Six patrolling near Equestrian Essentials, and is most likely on his way to the scene as we speak,” the drone relayed as the two of them exited the Administration building, and the sound of the emergency siren could be heard coming clear across the air. “I am receiving preliminary damage and casualty reports. Would you like to hear them?”

Twilight's mind was reeling at the offer and ball of ice formed in her gut as a single word echoed on her lips. "Casualties!?" Her voice dropped several octaves before she rallied, her tone turning demanding. “How many!?”

"Multiple injuries confirmed on the Industrial Level, both Equestrian and alien,” Forty-Two responded immediately as he continued to assimilate the data streams that were still pouring in. “Thus far, no fatalities have been reported. Minor burns, lacerations, and a few broken limbs have been cataloged. Changeling Unit Six of Ten has suffered minor damage to its outer carapace... I have an update. Director Rainbow Dash has arrived on the scene."

Twilight kept her legs pumping, bringing her to the stairway leading down to the third level of the district. So nopony had been killed; a small consolation, but good news nonetheless.

Taking a deep breath, trying to slow her pounding heart, Twilight’s voice lowered. She couldn’t do much about the scene until she got there, but she did have other concerns to address. “Are there any ponies outside the district?”

“Affirmative, Madam President,” Forty-Two informed her, his antenna lighting up as he proceeded to pull up the information. “Twenty-seven ponies and six changelings; all members of the Sweet Applecations workforce. They are currently working cleanup duty in District 1182. Director Applejack is also with them.”

“Contact Applejack’s changeling and inform her of the situation!” Twilight ordered, not breaking stride as she took a flying leap down the next set of stairs, angling her descent with the help of her biotics. “I want every pony and drone in the Herd back here and accounted for! Now!”

“With the elevators down and traffic being diverted--”

“I don’t care how you do it, just get them back here! They’re in greater danger off on their own,” Twilight’s tone booked no argument, going by the old standby of “safety in numbers.” “In the meantime, get every changeling in New Ponyville down to the warehouses to assist and move the wounded to the upper levels for treatment.”

“Understood,” the changeling complied. He saw no reason to inform Twilight that those very orders had already been given by Rainbow Dash along with instructions to conduct a search of the area, but did make it a point to relay them to the rest of his kind, causing every mech in the district to take wing as they moved for the explosions.

——————

Looking back on it, Forty-Two would have cringed if he were capable of doing so. Even if the rational had been sound at the time, now it was clear that diverting every one of their resources to handling this disaster had been a terrible miscalculation.

Forty-Two was in the thick of it now, jumping between various perspectives of the changelings, security cams, and even footage from Emily Wong’s live reporting as he tried to splice together the events that took place while he and Twilight were making their way to the lower levels.

*Establishing data-link with Bracer Series - 6 of 10*

...

*Data-link established*

*Relaying instructions*

*Unit complying; preparing to receive information*

*Transmission received: Hourglass Series - 42 of 50*

*Verifying credentials*

…

*Verified*

*Command received: Transfer of archived log files from index “Day 63 A.E, Hour 13:35 Citadel Standard”*

*Initiating log playback*

…

==Unit tasked with patrol and security of New Ponyville, Industrial Level==

==Logged visitors to Industrial Level: 237 Non-Residential Aliens, 26 Equestrians, 3 Keepers==

==Infractions logged during current daily cycle: 0==

==13:36 Citadel Standard - WARNING! Kinetic impact registered==

==Cognitive functions impaired==

==Logged period of inactivity; Duration: 17 seconds==

==Cognitive recalibration finalized, orientation modifiers reestablished==

==Self-diagnostic complete, compiling damage report==

==Damage to outer carapace: negligible; Central energy matrix: stable; Sensory suite: unimpaired; Cognitive capability: 100%; Motor functions: minor damage to actuators in right foreleg, internal repairs underway==

==Threat Level: Mauve==

==Observation Mode disengaged; Emergency Analysis Mode engaged==

==Detonation report analyzed, indications of high-pressure conflagration device. Magnesium-based accelerate. Element zero trace negative. Conclusion: low-impact, wide-radius explosive composition - device classification: Firebomb==

==Continuing investigation; Unit moving to within 2.3 meters of blast epicenter==

==Remains of explosive device found, starting analysis==

==Analysis interrupted; Sensors indicate injured organics within vicinity==

==Emergency Analysis Mode disengaged; Crisis Mode engaged==

==Automated repairs complete; Moving to assist==

==Casualties logged: [Raindrops: Pegasus mare, minor burns to forelegs and shoulders], [Drask, Evan: Human Male, Delivery Worker, concussion, minor burns, sprained leg], [Li, Shura: Asari, Tourist, bleeding from nostrils; possible internal injuries present, priority medical attention required]==

==Administrator Rainbow Dash (EoLo) arriving on scene==

==EoLo requests situation update; Administrator Authority Recognized; relaying information==

==EoLo inputting new directives==

==Primary Directive: Extract injured lifeforms from area, relocate to upper tiers of New Ponyville==

==Secondary Directive: Secure Industrial Level and perform full sweep for further explosive devices==

==Proceeding with directives; Initiating Search and Rescue==

*Discontinue Log playback*

*Time-stamp: Day 63 A.E. - 13:39 Citadel Standard*

*Disengage connection: Bracer Series - 6 of 10*

——————

--CNN Camera Drone; Model Number XT-907--
--Current Operator: Emily Wong--
--BREAKING NEWS - TAYSERI TERRORIST STRIKE--

“This is Emily Wong with Citadel News Net, coming to you live from New Ponyville in Tayseri Ward, where a series of explosions seem to have rocked the lowest level of the Ward District. Fires can still be seen burning as it seems the suppression systems are offline.” Emily continued commentating as she failed to keep up with the much quicker gallop of Pinkie Pie. “We still have no confirmation of injuries or the nature of the explosions as we move to the--”

“What do you think you’re doing!?” A less than enthused sounding voice was heard, drawing the attention of the camera drone which caught sight sight of a quickly approaching turian C-Sec officer. Several of the black, pony-shaped mechs known as changelings were hot on his heels, some galloping, others flying through the air like insects.

“Lieutenant Pyres!?”

“Shut that damn camera drone off!” the turian responded brusquely, making an arm motion down the road leading to the warehouses, which the mechs obeyed as they darted off that way. “This is an emergency situation! All civilians need to evacuate to the upper decks!”

“With all due respect, I was simply--”

“This isn’t up for discussion! You, upper decks, now!” Pyres challenged, his tone less than pleasant as he too moved across the scene.

Emily hesitated a moment, her expression one of conflict as she considered her next move. It didn’t last long; Emily wouldn’t have gotten to where she was today if she so easily backed down from a story.

“I can take care of myself, Lieutenant,” she stated resolutely.

The turian’s mandibles clicked together a few times in frustration, but he soon realized he had more important things to do than to argue with an obstinate reporter. “...Fine! I don’t have time for this, just stay out of the way!”

A beat later, and he took off, the camera watching as he made his way into the thick of the action. Meanwhile, Emily stood off to the side, making sure to position herself between the drone and the thick, billowing smoke in the background.

“That was local C-Sec District Liaison Taxar Pyres, moving to contain the situation that is rapidly developing here, live in New Ponyville,” she said, dictating events as they came to the millions who were no doubt tuning in as she spoke. “I am currently standing at the outer edges of the district’s Industrial Level, where a series of blasts from unknown origins rocked the area just moments ago. It’s absolute chaos here, as--”

“Emily!”

The camera made a one-eighty degree pivot around Emily, focusing in on the source of the newest voice: the Madam President herself, instantly recognizable in her dark-colored outfit, along with the green-eyed pony mech trailing closely behind her. She stopped a few feet short of the camera, paying it no mind as she addressed the reporter directly. “What are you doing here!?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Madam President,” Emily said back. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“This isn’t the time for that, Emily! You need to get out of here!” Twilight argued, pointing a hoof back in the direction she’d come.

Emily merely folded her arms. “I’ll tell you what I just told Lieutenant Pyres: I’m staying right here.”

“What? Pyres is here?” The Madam President couldn’t help but express a degree of relief in her voice at this news. “Good, good… Have you seen Rainbow Dash anywhere?”

“I’m here, Twi!” came a raspy voice from up above, and the camera drone tilted upwards to capture the blue pegasus mare as she descended quickly from flight, landing right beside Twilight.

“Rainbow, what’s the situation?” Twilight demanded, her tone clearly edged with equal parts panic and concern.

“I got here as soon as I could,” Rainbow stated, looking over and waving a hoof to somewhere off-camera. “Thanks for sending the changelings here, they’ve been a big help getting the wounded out and to the upper levels.”

“And what about the fires?”

Rainbow gave an exasperated huff. “Still burning. We don’t have enough extinguishers on hoof to even start to put them out. The drones have their hooves full just trying to keep them from spreading.”

“Okay, let’s see what we can do about those fires while we wait for C-Sec to get off their flanks and come help us.” Twilight sighed, rubbing the side of her head a few times before looking back up and seeing that Emily and her recording drone were still standing right there. “As for you, Emily--”

Twilight’s line of thought was cut off as the orange omni-hoof panels around her leg lit up, chirping to indicate an incoming call.

“What the…?” Twilight lifted her hoof as the screen came out, revealing the face of a blonde-maned, gray-furred mare who looked to be on the verge of hysterics.

“Twilight, thank Celestia you answered!” the caller said frantically. “You have to help me!”

“Whoa, slow down, Ditzy. I understand that you’re scared, but a lot of ponies need help,” Twilight told the mare, trying to sound consoling.

“What’s the matter, Ditzy? Are you hurt?” asked Rainbow Dash, stepping into view to take a look at Twilight’s omni-hoof.

“No, I’m fine! It’s not me that’s in trouble!” The grey mare shook her head. “I can’t find Scootaloo!”

“What!?” Rainbow’s eyes went wide, clearly affected by this news. “But you’re supposed to be keeping an eye on her!”

“Relax, Rainbow, she’s probably just with her friends,” cautioned Twilight, settling back on her haunches and raising her other leg to try and calm the pegasus down.

“No, she’s not!” Ditzy argued, seeming to be on the verge of tears. “She was with me and the other foals, I took my eyes off her for a minute... Then all of this started, and… The explosions were so loud, I... There were so many people running everywhere, I couldn’t…”

“Have you tried calling her omni-hoof?” Twilight suggested.

“I did! She won’t pick up!”

“Grr…” Rainbow snorted as she ground a hoof into the metal floor. “Something’s not right. I’m going to go look for her.” With that, her body became enveloped in a cyan glow and she took to the air immediately.

“Rainbow, wait a second! We need you here!” Twilight called after her, but her pleas fell on deaf ears as the pegasus rocketed away from the docks and deeper into New Ponyville in search of a single lost filly. With a grunt of frustration, Twilight returned to her call. “Don’t worry, Ditzy. Rainbow will find her for you. Just sit tight and stay inside with everypony else. I’ll handle everything out here.”

“Oh, thank you, Twilight! Thank you!” exclaimed a clearly grateful Ditzy Doo, before Twilight commanded the call to end, rendering her omni-hoof inert once again.

Choosing to focus on more immediate issues, she once again turned to Emily. “Emily, I don’t suppose you have any first aid experience?”

Emily shrugged. “I’m no doctor, but do I happen to know my way around a medkit.”

“Good enough.” Twilight nodded. “Please, just as a favor to me, could you leave the reporting until after all of the wounded have been patched up?”

Emily bit her lip, looking back and forth between the still-active camera drone, and the deadly serious expression of the Madam President. “...Alright, alright. I’ll do what I can.”

Twilight’s muzzle broke into a small smile. “Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Forty-Two, let’s go!”

As the unicorn broke into a gallop away from the reporter and off towards the docks, followed by her airborne assistant, Emily turned to address the camera directly.

“This is Citadel News Network reporter Emily Wong, live on the scene at New Ponyville. I’ll be back soon with an update on this rapidly developing story. Until then, stay tuned.”

——————

There were over a dozen different recollections among the changelings who had come under the command of the Madam President in the warehouses, almost eliminating the need for Forty-Two’s own viewpoint at her side. He knew everything there was to know about the events that followed.

Taxar was a professional, to nopony’s surprise, easily tending to the two wounded turians in the area while Emily proved to be rather competent in human first aid, assisting with triage and clearing several wounded to be moved. More than anything else, the focus was on evacuating the rest of the Herd members, alien delivery workers, and tourists to sheltered buildings in the safe upper levels.

In fact, by the time C-Sec emergency services had arrived, a majority of the situation was under control, with the worst injured prepped and ready for the emergency medical professionals to take a look at them. Then came the enforcement and bomb disposal units, who quickly fanned out to supplement the changelings already scouring the docks and adjacent warehouses for any additional threats.

That just left the remaining fires, which were shortly taken care of thanks to the industrial fire-fighting tools C-Sec provided, neatly extinguishing the unusually resistant blaze with the help of Twilight and a few other biotic adepts.

Overall, New Ponyville’s response to the emergency had been handled quite well, all things considered. Nopony was gravely injured, and while property damage to the affected buildings was high, nothing of any real value had been lost.

But while the Herd could breath a collective sigh of relief that the worst seemed to be over, the benefit of hindsight would not be kind. It was all a little too clean, too easy, and just like most events of this nature, there was always something else… just beneath the surface.

——————

Archived Log: 42 of 50 - Day 63 A.E.

Present location: Industrial Level, New Ponyville

Status: standing by

“That looks like the last of the fires, Madam President.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Twilight turned away from the shuttle retreating from New Ponyville. Now that the immediate danger was over, Tayseri Ward Captain Inari was on her way to the Presidium to personally file her report to the Executor. This in turn left the remaining C-Sec forces under the direction of the on-site officer, who had managed to sneak up on a still tired Twilight as she contemplated the situation.

“I said, ‘that looks like the last of the fires,’” Lt. Pyres repeated, directing the unicorn’s attention to the nearby parking dock, where a column of thin, white smoke began to clear.

“Good.” Twilight managed a sigh of relief. The docks had been the most pressing danger once the injured tourists and ponies were removed from the area. All it would’ve taken was a single ruptured helium-3 line or overheated shuttle Eezo core and a bad situation would be made that much worse. “Has anypony figured out why the automatic systems never turned on?”

“Seems like it was some sort of glitch in the environmental sensors installed throughout the area,” Taxar explained to the best of his knowledge. “All the detection thresholds were set way too high. This place would have to be hotter than an M-Class star to set them off.”

“So to the station’s VI, it didn’t look like there was anything wrong,” Twilight reasoned.

“Exactly. The thing is, these systems are brand new, just installed a month before you ponies moved in here. Everything checked out then.” Pyres sighed, leaning his back against a nearby bulkhead. “The way the tech jockeys over at Headquarters tell it, the only way something like this could happen is if those settings were messed with, and recently. I’m no programmer, but it seems to me like somebody slipped a viral VI into the system to do just that.”

“But why would anyone do such a thing?” Twilight asked, still trying to understand the reason for this as she looked over to a blackened and scarred area near the stairwell, her scowl deepening as she absorbed the damage in front of her. “What’s the point?”

“We don’t have a motive or any suspects yet, but an investigation is already underway.”

“Madam President.” Forty-Two, who had been silent since arriving at the disaster zone, drew attention to himself, his tone flat and emotionless. “Director Applejack has secured transport and is currently en-route to New Ponyville. All members of Sweet Applecations’ staff currently outside the district are accounted for. They have thus far encountered no difficulties.”

“Good… good.” Twilight nodded, another surge of relief coming over her. “Anything else I should know about?”

“Yes. Changeling units have recovered four as-yet unexploded munitions from several locations close to the initial blasts. They have been delivered to Director Pie who is currently dismantling them inside the Sugar³ Labs.”

“Okay, tell her to--” Twilight stopped in mid-stride, both her eyes and those of the turian officer turned to the mech. “Wait… she’s doing what!?”

——————

“PINKIE PIE!” Twilight shouted as the automated door slid out of the way, allowing herself and the turian officer inside the heart of Sugar³.

It had changed dramatically from the mess that been in place on Twilight’s first visit. Weeks ago, a sleep-deprived Pinkie had piles of tech, tools, and tripe toys piled around everywhere. Now, the cleaned and surprisingly organized-looking room housed several banks of computers, a mini-fabrication line, and rows of open-roofed workshop areas, each devoted to a single project. The scene looked almost professional.

At a workbench in the center of the room, standing on her hind legs with her tail to the door, hunched over for support as she worked, stood Pinkie Pie. As she turned, her flat mane, white coat, and enormous goggles gave Twilight a chill, as if she was expecting some Frankencolt abomination to be strapped down to the desk she was attending to.

“Do you always have to shout like that whenever you come in here?” the mare scolded back, reaching up to lift the her goggles back. “How would you like it if I shouted ‘TWILIGHT SPARKLE!’ every time I came to visit you in your office, hmm?”

“Just what do you think you’re doing!?” Twilight asked, not dignifying the pink mare with a proper response as she rushed over to the desk.

Sure enough, Pinkie was hard at work taking apart a collection of plain-looking, metallic-gray devices. The most intact of them appeared to be nothing more than a thick metal puck, about the size of a pony’s hoof. A horrified expression crossing her face, Twilight found herself asking, “Are these… Pinkie, are these things safe?”

“Yep, they’re safe. Well, safer than they used to be.” Pinkie nodded, although now the unicorn could see she was not smiling. “I removed all the blowey-uppy bits.”

“Director Pie, that’s evidence!” Pyers managed to say, although like Twilight, he was clearly surprised by the sudden turn of events. “What were you even thinking? If just one of these things had gone off, you could’ve been--”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Taxar. C-Sec can have them. I already found out everything we needed to know.” Pinkie held up a hoof to assure the turian. “Our changelings tracked down and disarmed these four nasty little party poppers during their first sweep, and I had them brought here a little before C-Sec showed up. And it’s a good thing, too. They were on a timer and would have gone off about ten minutes ago when there were C-Sec Officers all over the place trying to get things settled.”

“Set to a timer?” The lieutenant's look of confusion changed to dawning understanding as the meaning seeped in and soured his expression. “These were ambulance bombs!?”

“What bombs?” Twilight turned to him in a mix of curiosity and concern as the turian’s mandibles clicked in outrage.

“It’s a strategy favored by psychos and terrorists,” Taxar explained, his outrage apparent. “After the initial attack, additional explosives are set up ahead of time to target relief workers, peace officers, and ambulances attempting to provide assistance. Most Batarians wouldn’t even stoop that low.”

“Well, the good news is…” Pinkie interrupted, picking up one of the scattered pieces in front of her and holding it out for them to see. “Even if they had gone off, they probably wouldn’t have killed anypony.”

“What do you mean?” It was Twilight’s turn to be surprised now.

“Well, see this doohickey here? This is the thing that’s supposed to go ‘boom,’” Pinkie elaborated. “All it is is a densely-packed magnesium charge placed in a highly-flammable casing. It’s loud, it’s hot, and it’s great for starting fires, but it’s not the kind of weapon you use if you want to hurt somepony. I can think of waaay cheaper ways to make something as small as this that can…” The pink mare stopped talking, her eyes slowly gliding over to Pyres standing just a few feet away. “...Aaaaanyway, the worst you could do with one of these is give someone some really nasty burns, maybe break a few bones if they stood close enough to it.”

“Then what are they doing here in the first place?” Twilight shook her head, the mystery clearly not going over well in her weary brain.

“Dunno. But it wasn’t put here to kill anypony, I can tell you that much. It’s a good thing Dashie had the changelings search the place. It still would have been really bad if these things had gone off.”

Twilight nodded for a moment, agreeing with the comment. Then something occurred to her.

“Where is Rainbow, anyway?” she asked offhoofedly, suddenly realizing that she had not seen the mare since Ditzy Doo had asked for help locating the wayward daredevil foal, Scootaloo. “She should have been back by now, or at the very least reported in.”

“I told you it was a bad idea letting Director Dash run off to play Hide and Seek during an emergency,” commented Pyres, not bothering to hide his disapproval. After a few seconds though, his expression softened just a bit. “...Still, she’s never been late with a report.”

“Let’s see what’s taking so long,” Twilight sighed as she queued up her omni-hoof. At first, she expected to hear the normal sound of electronic chirping that indicated a call was going through. This time, however, she was immediately met with a dull buzzing noise she was unfamiliar with. A single line of text then scrolled across her screen.

connection unavailable

“That’s strange…” The unicorn tried shaking her hoof up and down before directing it to make the call again, only to be met with the same response. “This has never happened to me before… Pinkie, you designed them, what is this?”

“Huh.” Pinkie jumped off the table, tilting her head to the side. “That’s only supposed to happen if the receiver on the other end can’t pick up… or if the signal was being disrupted, somehow.”

Pinkie’s own hoof lit up as she, too, tried to contact Rainbow, but had no such luck. Now Twilight was starting to get worried.

“Forty-Two, where and when was Rainbow Dash last seen?” she urgently asked her assistant.

“Director Dash was last logged by Unit Six of Ten in the Industrial Level twelve minutes ago. Current whereabouts unknown,” came his reply. “All changeling units are still assisting C-Sec personnel with damage evaluations or treating the wounded.”

“Twilight, what is it?” Pinkie asked hesitantly, taking note of the way Twilight’s eyes were narrowing in the same way they did when she was thinking really hard.

First Scootaloo, now Rainbow Dash… This can’t be a coincidence, she thought, beads of sweat starting to percolate down her neck. The explosives weren’t meant to hurt anypony, and the fire suppression systems were disabled so that the resulting fires would burn for as long as possible… That can only mean one thing…

“A distraction,” Twilight said in a haunted whisper, as a frightening new possibility entered her mind. Eyes going wide, she inhaled sharply, turning to face Forty-Two so fast her neck nearly snapped. “Forty-Two, get me a headcount of every single pony in the district! NOW!”

——————

==Active Log; Minuet Series - 21 of 30==

==Unit tasked with full accounting of New Ponyville residents; Authority: Hourglass Series - 42 of 50==

==Assigned location: New Ponyville Markets==

==Logging [Cup Cake], [Carrot Cake], [Pound Cake], [Pumpkin Cake]==

==Sweep of Mane Street Market area complete==

==Data compiled; Transferring==

==Standing by for verification==

==Confirmed; District census sweep complete==

==URGENT TRANSMISSION RECEIVED; 9 Equestrians unaccounted for==

==Preparing to receive discrepancy report==

==Missing: [Amethyst Star], [Caramel], [Comet Tail], [Green Grocer], [Moondancer], [Octavia], [Rainbow Dash], [Scootaloo], [Thunderlane]==

==Unit tasked with secondary sweep of New Ponyville Market area; Authority: Hourglass Series - 42 of 50==

==Executing==

==Executing==

==Executing==

==Execu*@&%$!==

==ERROR - RUNTIME ANOMALY DETEC*^)))@==

==…...==

==Archived memory file retrieved==

Unit is standing as directed, minimal movement requested by [Apple Bloom], [Scootaloo], [Silver Spoon], [Sweetie Belle]. External shell has just been defaced by artistic pigment. [Apple Bloom], [Scootaloo], [Silver Spoon], [Sweetie Belle] warned and counseled of their act of vandalism. New Ponyville Security has been advised.

==Attempting to restore cognitive funccccccc==

==......==

==Archived memory file retrieved==

Unit observing [Scootaloo] approaching access point to Keeper Maintenance Conduit. Unit issues verbal discouragement. Keeper Maintenance Conduits off-limits to all Citadel residents pursuant to--

==INITIATING COGNITIVE HARD RESET==

==......==

==Cognitive recalibration complete; System fully restored==

==Unit tasked with investigating Keeper Maintenance Conduits; Authority: NULL==

==Initiating investigation==

——————

Poring over Twenty-One’s logs always left Forty-Two a little uneasy each time he did so. There were just too many discrepancies to chalk up to coincidence. For instance, how had the simple drone been able to countermand his own direct orders, much less pick such a specific course of action? It was almost as if…

No, that was a line of investigation to be left for another time. All that mattered was that it worked. Twenty-One of Thirty had been the changeling drone to successfully pin down Director Dash’s whereabouts, as well as solving the mystery as to the fates of the other missing ponies, deep in the bowels of the Keeper tunnels.

If only Twenty-One had arrived sooner…

The drone’s logs only painted an incomplete picture of events after the fact. To tell Forty-Two of exactly what happened, he’d had to turn to an unlikely source: the memory banks stored in the head of a nearly demolished LOKI mech found at the scene.

Playing back those last recordings filled him with no small amount of anger and disgust, but it was an essential part of his investigation, so view them again he must.

Forty-Two queued up the information… and tried to contain his emotions.

——————

*Hardware Specifications*
Patent: Rights Exclusive - Hahne-Kedar Developments
Classification: Security Mech - Type A: Bipedal Standard Android
LOKI Series: Model Number - HK-0470
Serial Number: M347846
Origin of Manufacture: Capek Production Facility: 2182 (Earth Standard)

The skimpy hardware details told Forty-Two exactly what it was required by Citadel Law to tell. That the mech had been mass-produced on an assembly line, stamped, and shipped off like any of the other hundreds of thousands of standard LOKI security mechs in the galaxy. Even with the unit’s serial number intact, it was nearly impossible to track down a “legal” owner since the two-legged robots changed hands more often than credits in the galactic economy.

No, the ruined mech itself was not nearly as important as the last moments recorded in its sensor log and black-box.

==INITIALIZING PLAYBACK==

The visual records of the LOKI mech were not so simple as a camera image, instead being made up of a series of sophisticated optic scans that ran the visible light spectrum and gave the mech full sensory input even in pitch blackness; a useful trait in an automated guard. This gave the image that was now playing back in Forty-Two’s digital mind a static-charged, off-orange filter imposed over the images of a darkened corridor just over two meters tall, divided by various alcoves and showing a bizarrely alien sense of design. Several different tunnels branched off from the mech’s current location in different, disorienting directions.

The image was only static for a moment before playback began, the mech’s head turning along with the rest of its body as it continued on its patrol mode, moving back towards what had been programed as the “Item of Priority”: a simple repulsor lift not unlike the sort that was in common use by the suppliers who brought shipments into New Ponyville. Unlike the lifts used on the New Ponyville Docks, this one was also fitted with a drive-engine and a pilot seat, clearly intended for more industrial settings, like moving large crates around a warehouse.

On this lift, however, was a cargo that was far from common as eight stasis pods were lined up and strapped in, one at the end opened up and exposed while the other seven were already filled and sealed. Favored by biologists as well as poachers, these were commonly used in ferrying live biological specimens ill-suited for interplanetary travel across the galaxy. Unfortunately, the unconscious specimens filling these pods also happened to be New Ponyville residents, with one pink-coated unicorn in particular easily identifiable from Forty-Two’s records as Amethyst Star, one of the craftsponies in the district.

The overview was interrupted as the mech turned again, its optics now facing another pair of LOKI mechs and an approaching, dog-like FENRIS model, which had a small, distinct figure draped over its back.

While the mech continued to watch impassively, Forty-Two could not help but feel a surge of very organic anger rush though his processors as the familiar filly came into view. She was orange, her purple mane frazzled and her stubby wings peaking out from her jacket. A trail of bright red blood ran down her muzzle from a deep, jagged gash across the top of her snout.

There was no communication between the mechs, who moved in a suitably mindless, obedient manner to relieve the FENRIS model of its burden and set the equine into the last remaining open stasis container, which clicked close with a slight hiss.

A sudden message ran across the mech’s HUD, relaying the sudden shift in its mission parameters.

==PRIMARY OBJECTIVE COMPLETE - SAMPLES EXTRACTED==
==RETURN TO OPERATION CENTER==

Without question, the mech turned away from the scene, fully prepared to begin its return journey as its programming dictated.

“RAAAAGGGHHHHH!”

A sharp shock and a burst of static accompanied the sudden blur of motion as the mech’s body was suddenly and violently lifted from its place, sent spinning back across the ground, and came to a rest several meters away after being crushed against the wall.

In an almost comically slow fashion, after nearly a full three seconds, a new update came up across the HUD screen.

==IMPACT DETECTED==

Its body twisted into an immobile hunk of metal, the mech tried to shift its arm around to the pistol secured to its casing, but only managed to claw weakly at the ground, too damaged to do so. With its neck bent at an angle, all it could do was watch in silence with its optic sensors in clear view of the tunnel, where its fellow mechs reacted immediately to the clear and present threat. All of a sudden, the tunnel erupted in gunfire.

“Take that, you stupid robots!” Rainbow Dash’s voice could be heard calling out over the cacophony of bullets and explosions as another mech suffered enough damage to set off its self-destruct protocol. The remaining mechs let loose wave after wave of kinetically-charged bullets, but such off-the-shelf defense models were usually never equipped with anything more than standard targeting software, rendering them nearly useless against mobile targets. And as the video showed, calling Rainbow “mobile” was a dramatic understatement.

The gunfire died down steadily as Rainbow continued, easily dispatching the remaining armed drones, most of which exploded in the vain hope of catching the quick-moving pegasus in the blast radius.

Moving into the view, the Director looked unscathed in spite of her reckless, no-holds-barred assault. Judging by her expression and the beads of sweat apparent on her brow as she panted slightly, the use of her biotics in this manner was taxing to the athletic pony. But that did not keep her from putting a victorious smirk on her face as she spun around in the air, looking for any other signs of resistance.

“Who’s next!?”

VVWWARP

The sound accompanied the sudden appearance of a bright blue aura around Rainbow Dash, who elicited a cry of surprise. Her wings beat wildly as she was suddenly sent careening to the metal flooring, her own biotic field overwhelmed by the dense burst of gravity-enhancing energy that struck her right between the shoulder-blades.

Falling out of the direct view of the mech’s optics, she landed unceremoniously a short distance away on her belly, only her hind legs and the end of her tail visible at the edge of its vision.

A moment of quiet huffing and clear struggle could be made out, the Director’s legs pushing to try and regain her hoofing as a faint cyan glow began to re-ignite around her body.

VVWWARP

“AGGH!”

Only to be extinguished again as another spasm of her tail and hind hooves denoted the mare’s pain when she was brutally shoved back to the ground.

“Well, aren’t you just an adorable little ball of energy?” came an entirely new voice, female, thick and sultry, and carrying a hint of amusement. As the mech watched, a pair of shapely humanoid legs clad in tight-fitting armor stepped into the scene, though nothing could be seen above her waist. “Pretty interesting fighting style. Entertaining, too; these dime-store mechs didn’t stand a chance.”

Rainbow grunted again as she fought back against the biotic field pinning her down, but it was of no use, the pitiful attempt only managing to rouse some laughter out of her assailant. “While you might’ve been able to dispatch the mechs, you’ve obviously never gone up against a Commando before, have you?”

The unknown female took a few steps toward Rainbow’s prone form, finally revealing the upper half of her body, and the smooth, blue-skinned tinge of her head, tapering off towards the back into a set of short, rigid tentacles.

“Yeah!? Well, you’ve never gone up against Rainbow Dash before!” the pegasus retorted boldly, even though she was still held in a defenseless position. “Just you wait! I’m gonna make you pay for hurting my friends!”

“I don’t think so.” With that proclamation, the asari woman lifted an armored boot and brought it down hard on Rainbow’s back, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain. “You know, it was pretty foolish of you to come down here without any backup. I thought you ponies were supposed to be all about working together, yet here you are, rushing in all alone. And just look where it got you.”

“Ungh!” Rainbow grunted again as the boot pushed a little deeper. Her eyes flashed in bold defiance. “So, what now!? You gonna kill me!?”

The asari Commando chuckled, raising a hand to her lips. “Mmm… Tempting… But, sadly, I have my orders. My client was absolutely clear: no killing. Can’t afford to thin the herd with so few specimens available, am I right? Never know when we might need more.”

Seeming to hesitate for a moment, the asari’s hand, glowing with biotic energy, went dark, releasing Rainbow from her imprisonment even as she stepped back. Rainbow coughed, pushing herself up on her legs as she attempted to regain her breath.

Then, a small smirk came across the face of the asari, and she twisted around, raising the pegasus up in another biotic field before slamming her back against the wall of the tunnel, wings flared wide.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun now, can I?” the Commando said mockingly, tilting her head. As Rainbow struggled to once again free herself from her bonds, the asari looked down at her thigh, reaching over and disconnecting a small handheld device that quickly unfolded with a series of clicks into the unmistakable shape of a pistol. “Someone’s got to teach you over-powered freaks a lesson in humility, and it might as well be me.”

She brought up the gun, aiming it squarely at Rainbow. The mare’s eyes went wide, her breath catching in her throat as she stared down the barrel of her demise.

“I think it’s time the little birdy had her wings clipped.”

*BLAM*
*BLAM*

With two squeezes of the trigger, Rainbow let loose an ear-splitting screech of agony that momentarily tripped the mech’s audio receptors, blacking them out for a few seconds. But from the video, it was all too clear what had happened.

At first, Rainbow’s body went rigid with pain, her eyes clenched tightly while she cried out in silence. Then, her body sagged, evidently overwhelmed by the trauma.

The asari’s mouth moved as she said something that didn’t get picked up by the recording, before she lowered her outstretched arm, letting her biotics fade and freeing Rainbow. The pegasus slid limply to the ground, leaving two parallel streaks of what was unmistakably blood, trailing down the wall in her wake.

Then, satisfied, the asari turned and started walking toward the other end of the tunnel just as the mech’s audio came back with a crackle and a burst of static. Stopping at the base of the mech, leaving only her feet visible, the asari sighed.

“Worthless hunks of metal. Gotta do everything myself...” she muttered, before one of the feet raised up and slammed right into the camera with a thick crunch.

With that, the recording was reduced to little more than static, occasionally interspersed with still frames of the quiet, now empty tunnel. Several agonizing minutes passed, with the asari having taken her cargo and been long gone by the time anything of note came across the mech’s rapidly deteriorating recording capacity.

And then, just as the mech’s power supply was beginning to seize up, it detected a flicker of movement coming down the long passage. Between bursts of static, a figure emerged, pony-shaped, but entirely mechanical in nature, with bright blue eyes and a dark black carapace with white markings on its flank. It quickly made its way over to Rainbow’s prone body as soon as she was noticed.

“Admin…...inbow Dash loca……” heard the mech, moments before the recording cut out and sharply faded to nothing.

==============================================

==================
Archived Log: 42 of 50 - Day 63 A.E.

Location: New Ponyville: Residential Level

Status: Co-ordination District Wide Search

“Twilight!” Fluttershy's forelegs were around her friend's shoulders and neck before Twilight could even turn to acknowledge the pegasus rushing towards her, breathing a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness you're alright!"

"I'm fine, Fluttershy." Twilight reached up, patting her friend's shoulder affectionately for a moment before easing her off, a pang of hurt running through her chest as she took note of the tears in her eyes and the dark patches on the yellow pegasus' cheeks. "What is it? What’s wrong?"

"I... I was helping find everypony, like Nineteen asked me too…” Fluttershy hiccupped, barely able to believe what was happening around them. “Twilight, they're gone. Green Grocer, Octavia, Thunderlane... we can't find them."

"I know, and they're not the only ones." Twilight nodded grimly, growing more concerned by the second as she looked around the Third Level residentials. Ponies, changelings, and C-Sec officers alike had fanned out across the district, leaving no stone unturned in their search for the ponies who’d gone missing. And as much as she wanted to be right there with them, this was where she needed to be, coordinating the effort and projecting a sense of calm and determination. "Don't worry, we will find them. The elevators were locked down, and the docks were swarming with changelings. They didn’t just disappear."

Keeping a close watch on her vitals, Forty-Two could tell that it was a battle for the still weary unicorn to keep up the appearance. Her blood pressure was through the roof and the tension in her body was far from healthy as whatever recuperation she had managed during her all too brief nap was quickly being sapped from her. She didn’t look it, but she was panicking just beneath the surface.

"Green, Octavia, Moondancer, and Thunderlane were all logged up here before the blast," Twilight continued, trying to approach her search in a logical, methodical manner. "Amethyst, Caramel, Comet, and Scootaloo were down on Mane Street… there has to be some sort of connection.”

“...But what could it be?” Fluttershy thought for a minute, trying to think what possibly connected an Agricenter food distributor, a musician, a part-time delivery pony, an artist, an astronomer, and a school-age filly, among others. “There’s no pattern.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” hypothesized Twilight. “None of these ponies have anything in common, and apart from Scootaloo, they wouldn’t have been noticed as missing… until it was too la--”

“Madam President! Director Rainbow Dash has been located!” Forty-Two spoke up suddenly, grabbing the two ponies’ attention as his antennae flashed rapidly.

“What!? Where!? What’s her status!?” Twilight demanded.

“Unit Twenty-One of Thirty is reporting her location in the Keeper Maintenance Tunnels…” The changeling stopped suddenly, his mechanical features betraying none of the emotion running through his digital mind as the next fractions of seconds carried the latest information. “...Twilight… she’s hurt.”

A collective gasp rose from the two mares, and to Twilight, it felt like her lungs were being dragged down by lead weights. The tone in her assistant’s voice was unmistakable. “Details, Forty-Two… Give me the details.”

Forty-Two realized his misstep immediately, cursing his slip of composure and reasserting his calm, neutral demeanor. “Affirmative, Madam President. Director Rainbow Dash is currently located within a maintenance shaft connecting the sub-structures between New Ponyville and neighboring District Twelve Eighty-Seven,” he relayed clerically. “According to Twenty-One’s preliminary scans, the Director is suffering from two point-blank gunshots to the base of her wing structures, as well as multiple contusions and possible internal bleeding.”

“She was shot!?” Fluttershy’s hooves went to her muzzle, her pupils shrinking to pins as the horrible situation was revealed.

“What happened!? What about the other ponies!? Is the assailant still there!?” Twilight demanded, seething from a combination of righteous fury and cold concern.

“Negative. There are several automated mechanized units at the scene, all inactive and in various states of disrepair,” said Forty-Two. “There is also a faint ion trail leading further into the shaft, most likely from an industrial repulsor lift.”

“That must be where the other ponies are…” Twilight deduced, her mind running at the speed of light as she balanced concern for her friend with her concern for the other missing Herd members. “Forty-Two, send all available changeling units into the tunnels to follow that trail! Find those ponies!”

“They are already on their way, Madam President, but--”

“Good, and have Twenty-One bring Rainbow back for immediate medical attention!”

“Madam President, there is a problem,” the drone stressed quickly, before his mistress interrupted him again.

“What is it?” asked Twilight, a strained look in her eyes.

“Even at maximum flight speed, it will take changeling units approximately six minutes to arrive at the Director’s location. The engine traces will have diminished by then.”

“Dammit!” Twilight cursed. “Can Twenty-One follow the trail!?” she asked, already knowing that she didn’t like the connotations of that.

“Affirmative, but Director Dash’s health is in critical condition. If she does not receive medical care immediately, there is a risk of musculo-skeletal damage being rendered permanent.”

“But moving her could be just as dangerous!” Fluttershy argued, stepping forward. “Pegasus wings are delicate! In her state, transporting her without getting her stabilized first could do more harm than good! Every second counts with wing-injuries!”

“Then what do you suggest, Fluttershy?” Twilight hissed through clenched teeth, locking eyes with her friend. “Because we don’t have a lot of options, here.”

The two of them held a tense silence for a few seconds, before Forty-Two spoke up between them.

“There is a third option, Madam President,” he said, causing the two mares to once again turn their ears in his direction. “Twenty-One of Thirty is an all-purpose maintenance model with a wide variety of tools at its disposal, including a small amount of medi-gel. Not enough to heal Director Dash, but if used in conjunction with several improvised procedures, it may be possible to stabilize her until she can get proper attention.”

“Improvised procedures?” Twilight questioned his wording.

“Twenty-One of Thirty is not programmed for first aid, Madam President. By definition, this would be an untested improvisation of the drone’s capabilities.” replied the changeling simply. “The unit will need to be directed remotely by a medical professional. Doctor Stable Hoof, New Ponyville’s primary physician, is currently located on this level and has the required knowledge of Equestrian biology.”

Twilight’s mind was a rush, panic nearly winning out as both Fluttershy and Forty-Two looked to her for guidance. Her friend’s health was at stake. Maybe even her life. But so too were the lives of eight other ponies. This could be their only chance to find them in time.

“The ion trail is deteriorating as we speak, Madam President. Instructions?”

Author's Note

Choice:
Tunnel Vision

A diversion. The bombs on the docks and in the warehouses, the fire suppression systems being disabled, it was all a ploy to cause just enough chaos and confusion for some unknown assailant to grab eight innocent ponies right off the streets. And it worked, almost perfectly. Almost.

Rainbow Dash was able to track down the perpetrator, but not without cost. Now she’s in danger, critically injured and far from New Ponyville even as her attacker quickly absconds with the abducted ponies through the dark sublevels of the Citadel.

Now it is a race against time. Twenty-One of Thirty is on the scene, but until reinforcements arrive, it is only capable of performing one task. It can carry Rainbow Dash through the tunnels and back to the surface where she can be treated, however, this carries risk of further injury.

Twenty-One could also attempt to perform emergency triage on the pegasus’ badly-damaged wings using its suite of maintenance tools, under the careful remote guidance of Doctor Stable Hoof, New Ponyville’s highest medical authority.

Finally, the transportation used to ferry the abducted Herd members has left an ion trail in its wake, presenting quite possibly the only method of tracking down whoever did this. But as with most trails, this one is going cold, and quickly. Twenty-One can engage in pursuit, but doing so would leave Rainbow bereft of treatment until more help arrived.

Running predictive models of the Madam President’s decision.

Retrieve Rainbow: “Tell Twenty-One to bring Rainbow back here, ASAP!”

Tend Rainbow: “Find Doctor Stable and bring him here, now!”

Pursue Abductors: “We can’t abandon those other ponies! Track them down!”

VOTING IS CLOSED

::Results::

Tunnel Vision

——————

Retrieve Rainbow: 0.8%

Tend Rainbow: 33.2%

Pursue Abductors: 66%

The Madam President has determined that the possibility of losing the abducted ponies is an unacceptable risk. Twenty-One of Thirty will be ordered to pursue, leaving Rainbow unattended until backup arrives

Arc 2 - Part 4: Chasing Shadows

Chasing Shadows

Archived Log: 42 of 50 - Day 63 A.E.

Location: New Ponyville, Residential Level

Status: awaiting instructions

Twilight Sparkle’s eyes stared straight ahead, unfocused, like her mind was a million miles away. Of all the decisions she’d made thus far, this had to be the heaviest. On the one hoof, her friend’s health -- maybe even her life -- hung in the balance. While on the other…

The unicorn closed her eyes shut, feeling like a dagger was pressing into her heart. With barely a whisper, she made her decision.

“...I’m so sorry, Rainbow…”

Twilight breathed in deep to steady herself, and as she opened her eyes, her face was a mask. “Instruct Twenty-One to follow the ion trail,” she managed in a flat voice, fighting not to betray the pain she was feeling. “I want those ponies found.”

“At once, Madam President,” Forty-Two stated mechanically, displaying no sign of judgment as his antennae lit up.

“Twilight...” Fluttershy looked to her friend, aghast and clearly concerned, but unable to bring herself to object.

“Forty-Two, stay in constant connection with Twenty-One,” Twilight continued. “Maintain a direct video feed, and notify me of any further developments.”

“But what about Rainbow?” Fluttershy asked, her voice quiet, almost fearful as her wings twitched in agitation, having difficulty comprehending Twilight’s decision. “You’re just going to leave her there?”

“I know you’re worried about her, Fluttershy. I am too, and I wish things could be different,” Twilight offered, trying to keep from looking her friend in the face at the moment. “But right now there’s just too much at stake. For now, I need to track down Doctor Stable. If we’re going to help Rainbow we need to get him into the tunnels as quickly as possible. Fluttershy, you go with Pyres and help coordinate with C-Sec. We need to be prepared to handle whatever Twenty-One encounters down there.”

“But--”

“Now is not the time to argue, Fluttershy!” Twilight snapped, her voice raised as a moment of weakness allowed her frustration to show through.

Fluttershy, for her part, managed to stand her ground. No longer the weak, easily intimidated doormat that Twilight had first met what felt like a lifetime ago, the Director of Interspecies Relations regarded her friend and leader not with fear, but a very visible concern.

Taking a deep breath to steady her frayed nerves, Twilight simply sighed, her voice growing softer. “We can’t waste time debating this. Just do what I say, alright?”

After a tense few seconds more, Fluttershy acquiesced, looking down as she swallowed back whatever it was she might have been preparing to say. “...Yes, Twilight.”

“This way, Madam President,” Forty-Two chirped, as if unaware of the tense moment of emotion that had passed between the two ponies.

Neither mare said another word as the changeling took wing, leading his mistress off to find the Doctor as Fluttershy remained, forlornly staring after her and wondering to herself how everything could have gone so wrong...

==Archived Log: Minuet Series - 21 of 30==

==Unit tasked with tracking Element Zero Ion Signature. Authority: [EoM]==

==Current time investment: 13 minutes, 40 seconds==

==Logged in transit: 36 Keepers; 0 Equestrians; 0 Other==

==Local signature trace strength: 64%; Signature degradation rate: 8% per minute==

==Warning: Nano-weave transport motors have exceeded recommended sustained flight-time; Disengaging flight==

==Safety override accepted; Continue flight mode. Authority: Hourglass Series 42 of 50==

==Alert: Increased ion concentrations detected; Conclusion: Significant output of source activity in close proximity==

==Current Location: Tayseri Ward, District 553, Hashita Shipping Dock; Distance to nearest Keeper Maintenance Tunnel exit point: approx. 200 meters==

==Hourglass Series 42 of 50 notified of present location; Awaiting instructions==

==Unit tasked with investigating local area; Priority Objective: Locate missing Equestrians. Authority: [EoM]==

==Unit complying; Proceeding to Keeper Tunnel exit==

==Warning: Foreign objects detected along tunnel exit; Running profile==

==ALERT: PROXIMITY-BASED ORDINANCE DETECTED! DISENGAGE!==

==Kinetic impact registered==

*Transmission terminated*

*Minuet Series 21 of 30 signal lost*

*Unit has been removed from network*

For Forty-Two, reviewing the final transmission sent out from Twenty-One of Thirty was a haunting experience, to say the least. He was, in effect, witnessing the “death” of one of his own kind. Though Twenty-One wasn’t nearly as sophisticated as himself -- it was only a drone, after all -- he still couldn’t suppress the dual feelings of loss and regret; yet another piece of the Equines’ legacy, lost.

Had Twilight made the right call? Forty-Two pondered, before immediately chastising himself for even asking that question. Of course she’d made the right call, given the information they had to work with at the time. And who knows how it all could’ve gone differently had Twenty-One not been ordered to pursue? Compared to the lives of Rainbow and the other abducted ponies, the fate of a single unintelligent drone was insignificant.

All things considered, things could’ve ended up a lot worse.

With that, Forty-Two’s thoughts turned once more to Director Dash, who, at that very moment, was busy recovering from her horrible ordeal elsewhere in the hospital. Wondering if there was an update on her condition, the changeling pinged Huerta’s patient directory for an update on her status.

Huerta Memorial Patient File: 30017-82
Name: Dash, Rainbow -- Species: Equestrian -- Gender: Female -- Age: 22
Location: Room #205-B, Recovery Ward, VIP Area
Attending Physician: Dr. L’mari, Ciali, PhD (XenoBio)

Cause for Admittance: Complications due to multiple gunshot wounds.

Initial Diagnosis: Patient suffered severe damage to two locations near the base of her wing joints, stemming from two individual bullet wounds caused by high-impact ammunition. The resulting physical trauma caused multiple compound fractures in the bones in and around the impact sites. Extensive injury to blood vessels and nervous system tissue in the immediate area also occurred, leading to significant blood loss.

Treatment: Medi-gel applied on-site to affected areas in order to stop the bleeding. Once patient was transferred to emergency medical services, transfusion of donated blood from volunteer Equestrian pegasi commenced. Following the advisement of Dr. Stable, E-PhD/E-M.D. (outside medical specialist in Equestrian physiology and care, see attached xeno-biology accreditation) reconstructive surgery of equine-avian limbic joints was commenced once patent stabilized. Application of Type-7 medi-gel and anti-contaminant measures taken to prevent infection. Procedure completed without complications after three and a half hours of surgery.

Post-Op Report: Patient remains unconscious, but is in stable condition. Initial reconstruction of wing joints proved successful following application of nanofiber structural mesh to fracture sites. Provided there are no further complications, bone structure is expected to make a full recovery. However, full extent of neuromuscular damage to the wings themselves is unknown. Nervous system tissue may be permanently impacted from prolonged lack of blood flow, possibly resulting in partial or complete paralysis. Due to lack of previous medical records, general prognosis is difficult, though full restoration of flight capabilities appears unlikely.

Current Status: Patient is currently being kept under sedation until her vitals return to safe levels.

If Forty-Two had the capacity to sigh, he would have. Rainbow’s condition was the same as it had been the last time he’d checked only a short time ago. Still, he supposed, no news was good news, especially since the surgery went as well as it had.

Surgery that Rainbow wouldn’t have needed to undergo in the first place, had she not been so rashly quick to act back in the Keeper Tunnels, Forty-Two thought to himself. But he was hardly surprised by her response, considering the data he’d gathered on her before and after their escape from Equestria. He could only hope she’d take something away from all this, aside from the battle scars.

However illogical or foolhardy, it did not change the fact that what was done was done. And Forty-Two came to the conclusion that now was not the time to worry about what could or could not have been. Instead, the changeling decided to resume his summary of events, continuing where he left off after Rainbow’s recovery from the tunnels.

Twilight Sparkle stood stock still as a pair of salarians, an asari, and the beige-coated, brown-maned Dr. Stable rushed past her, speaking back and forth in a quick medical jargon that the Madam President was having a hard time keeping up with.

“We've got her stabilized, but she’s lost a lot of blood,” the asari stated in a rush, her fingers flying over her omni-tool as she jogged alongside the pony. “We’ll need a donor with a compatible blood-type.”

“That won’t be a problem. Any healthy pegasus pony will do,” Dr. Stable explained. “Is the emergency shuttle stocked with transfusion equipment?”

“It is. I can have it ready to go in less than a minute.”

“Do it. In the meantime, I’ll find us a willing donor. It shouldn’t take long; we’re a close-knit group.”

Twilight heard them, but her eyes were fixated on the rolling gurney that was being pulled along quickly by the foremost salarian. Laying there on her belly was her friend, her skin badly bruised and her cyan coat matted with sweat and blood. Her jacket had been cut open and removed to allow improvised splints to be placed against her wings, forcing them into full extension. Right near the base of each of them were a pair of neat, round holes, colored dark red with what appeared to be a liberal application of medi-gel sealing them closed.

Although the bleeding had stopped, it was clear from the stains on her fur that Rainbow Dash had been suffering greatly for the six additional minutes it took for the drones to reach her with adequate medical supplies, administered remotely by Dr. Stable. It was almost impossible for Twilight to believe that just a short time ago, her friend had been healthy and whole, and now...

As the paramedics, Dr. Stable, and Rainbow approached the ambulance shuttle, Twilight’s eyes fell to the metal flooring at her hooves, regret and pain gnawing at her as the weight of her choices came crashing down like a wave.

It had been less than an hour since the attack began. Now, eight of her ponies had been snatched from their homes and one of her closest friends horribly maimed by the same unknown assailant. And on top of that, there was the unexpected loss of one of their irreplaceable changeling mechs. Taken down in the tunnels by what appeared to be a trap, as it raced to track down the abductor instead of doing what it could to help Rainbow.

And for what? They were no closer to saving the victims now than they were before, and Rainbow’s dire situation had been made all the more difficult because of Twilight’s decision. Had she been blinded by the desire to chase down the one who had done this, neglecting her friend in vain hope for a quick resolution?

Had she been wrong?

“Make the call… and stand by it.” Twilight took in a deep, steadying breath, and exhaled as she remembered her all too brief discussion with Commander Shepard aboard the Normandy. “That’s what leaders do.”

...But it still doesn’t make it any easier.

"Madam President?"

Twilight's head snapped to one side, the voice of Lt. Pyres drawing her attention just as the Citadel Emergency Services ambulance was preparing to take Dr. Stable and his patient to Huerta Memorial's state-of-the-art medical facilities.

"Please tell me you found something, Lieutenant." Twilight tried to keep the sense of pleading out of her tone, hoping she was maintaining a strong front. Somehow, she rather doubted it.

"Local patrols heard the explosion about a minute before the call went out. They’re cordoning off the area now while heavier C-Sec forces move in to secure the Hashita Shipping Warehouse in District Five-Fifty-Three. So far, the property manager is cooperating, as are his employees, and an investigation is underway."

"What about my changeling?" Twilight perked up hopefully.

"We haven't found it yet," Taxar said, shaking his head regretfully. "The entrance to the Keeper Tunnel was completely collapsed. The mech could have been buried under the debris from the bulkhead, or it might have been thrown back into the tunnel by the explosion."

"What are the odds someone could’ve scavenged it from the wreckage before your officers arrived?" Twilight asked, loathe to imagine the attackers managing to add one more prize to their collection.

"Hard to say for sure until we know more about what happened," Pyres admitted, unwilling to dismiss the possibility. "We’ve at least confirmed that your people are not being held at Hashita itself, but anything more is going to take time."

Twilight wanted to snap, wanted to demand results at any cost, to do whatever it took to bring her ponies back home. She wanted to rant and rave and vent her frustrations, but she knew it would do no good. This wasn't Pyres’ fault and she knew it.

"...Please keep me informed," she said in a dull tone.

The turian nodded, finding nothing else to say before returning his attention to organizing the local C-Sec presence maintaining security and preventing any further complications.

Turning back to the dock, Twilight watched as the ambulance sealed its rear cargo hatch, finally ready to leave. Its engines lit up with a bright blue glow, lifting it up into the air and directing it to the main lane of traffic. With her injured friend in tow, it then sped off towards the Citadel Presidium, way off in the distance. She watched it go as it grew smaller and smaller, to the point where she couldn’t see it any more. And yet, she remained as she was, unable to look away until something else demanded her attention.

"Twilight!"

The cry accompanied the sound of hooves hitting the metal flooring of the port as none other than Applejack came up to her at full gallop.

Even though her recent dealings with her orange earth pony friend had ended with leaving a bad taste in her mouth, the only thing Twilight felt at the moment was a brief spark of joy at seeing a familiar, friendly face. At that moment, the whole situation regarding Patricia Hern was the farthest thing from her mind -- she was just glad Applejack was safe.

"It’s good to see you, AJ," Twilight managed as the mares met, Applejack breaking her run forward and throwing her forelegs around her friend's shoulders in a much needed hug.

"Ah'm so sorry, Twi," Applejack started, her tone frantic. "We got here as quick as we could, but scroungin’ up enough transport for everypony was hard enough with traffic closed off."

"It's alright Applejack, it's okay." Twilight brought up a leg to pat along the back of her friend's neck, sharing the embrace. "You did well. You got the ponies in your care home safe, that's what matters."

"Ah… Ah heard ‘bout what happened..." Applejack pulled back, wearing an expression of worry. "The mech told me what it could. Scootaloo? Caramel? All those others?"

"We'll find them, Applejack," Twilight tried to assure her friend with all of the confidence she could muster.

"And what about Rainbow?"

"She’s being taken to a hospital on the Presidium. Doctor Stable is with her, and there are pegasi lining up to donate blood. She’s a fighter, she'll pull through."

"R-right. That’s… that’s good." Applejack nodded, taking a breath of her own to steady herself. "Right now it’s important that we stick together. We can't leave anypony off on their own. And the sooner we work with C-Sec to catch whoever’s responsible fer this--"

"It's already being done," Twilight interrupted. "Pyres is coordinating with Tayseri's security forces. They’re already following some leads."

Applejack stared hard into the eyes of her friend. She thought she detected a hint of impatience in Twilight’s voice, and immediately assumed it had something to do with her.

"Twilight… Ah know…” The orange mare trailed off, rubbing one of her forelegs against the other. “Ah really messed up with Patch. Ah won’t deny it. Ah betrayed yer trust in me, an’--"

"Applejack, that doesn't matter right now."

"But Ah--"

"It doesn’t matter." Twilight said more forcefully, grabbing Applejack’s attention. "You made a mistake, yes. A big one, but that’s all it was. I know you only had the best of intentions."

The two held their mutual gaze for a moment before Applejack looked away, nodding slightly.

"The only thing that matters right now is the safety of the Herd,” she continued. “I don't care about anyone’s reputation, and I don’t care about the Council, or their protocols. I don’t care about anything apart from getting our people back."

The ferocity of Twilight’s statement did not go unnoticed, and Applejack tilted her head, slightly taken aback. “Twi, Ah understand yer upset, but y’all gotta calm down a bit. We need ta keep a level head about this, especially you, our leader."

“...I know, AJ. I know." Twilight sighed mightily and closed her eyes, reaching up to rub her temples with her hoof. After a few moments of concentration, an idea suddenly popped into her head. The solution was quite literally standing in front of her. “And that’s why... I am officially naming you Head of the Equestrian Board of Directors and Acting Vice President of the Herd."

"Wh...whuh?" Applejack took a step back, confusion plain in her voice. "Care ta run that by me again, sugarcube?"

"You made a mistake, Applejack, but you never betrayed my trust,” Twilight said with conviction. “In fact, you’re probably the one pony I trust the most. Not just with my own life, but with the lives of everypony else in the Herd. I know I can count on you to do the right thing, and I need you to watch after them while I work on bringing our ponies home."

"Ah..." Applejack hesitated, shocked by both the admission and the sudden show of confidence Twilight was offering by giving her what sounded to be a position of authority. Then, a determined expression transformed her features, bringing back the gleam in her eye which had gone missing since the events of the day before. "Thank you… Ah won’t letcha down, Twi. Never again. That’s a promise."

"Glad to hear it." Twilight smiled grimly at her friend, able to take comfort in their quick reconciliation despite the circumstances.

"Madam President!" The two mares looked up and turned as Pyres once again made his way over to them. He briefly spared a nod to the pony wearing the stetson. "Director," he offered, only slightly masking the hint of disapproval he still carried against her for her earlier actions.

"Lieutenant," Applejack said back, though her tone was much more respectful.

Without another word to Applejack, the turian redirected his attention to Twilight. "We have something."

At this news, Twilight’s ears perked up while Applejack leaned in, likewise surprised. “Didja find ‘em?” the earth pony asked hopefully.

“Not yet, but we did find the industrial loader that we think was used to move them, as well as an eyewitness who claims he saw a suspicious cargo shuttle leaving the area shortly before the explosion.”

“And how does that help us?” Twilight was quick to ask.

“The loader was stashed in an empty shipping container nearby, probably dumped there in a hurry after your people were moved to the shuttle. If it wasn’t for that drone of yours, it might’ve sat there for days before anyone found it.”

In the time it took for Pyres to take his next breath, Twilight let a brief flicker of vindication sweep through her. Twenty-One’s sacrifice hadn’t been for nothing after all. It gave them a chance.

“The registration number was still intact, and Investigations is running it now. Between that and the eyewitness account, there’s a good chance we’ll find whoever supplied the abductors.”

“And then we get the supplier to tell us who they’re working with,” Twilight said with satisfaction, nodding her head.

Pyres raised one of his hands in a steadying gesture. “One step at a time, Madam President. We still don’t know if--” The turian was interrupted by a pinging sound from his omni-tool, and he directed his attention to the holographic interface, reading the incoming message. “...We got a match. That was fast.”

A couple of seconds passed before Pyres’ expression noticeably soured, obviously not liking what he was seeing.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Applejack asked, tilting her head.

An annoyed sound escaped the turian’s mandibles, like a cross between a groan and a scoff. “...This guy,” was all he had to say.

Archived Log: 42 of 50 - Day 64 A.E.
Location: Tayseri Ward Central Precinct

"Tono Shaloobo."

Twilight remained silent while she and Pyres watched the holo-screen in front of them, depicting the inside of one of C-Sec’s interrogation rooms. From what she gathered, the layout of the rooms was a recent development, owing to the influx of humans into the ranks of the agency since their numbers were decimated two years prior.

Featuring nothing but dark walls, a desk, a chair, and a single lamp overhead, Twilight could definitely understand the intimidating effect such an environment could have. She certainly didn’t envy the poor sap now sitting in that chair, across from the only other occupant of the room: Captain Inastri, the asari head of Tayseri’s Citadel Security branch.

As for the interrogatee, Twilight wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was a salarian, his three-fingered hands folded together in front of him and a smug, disinterested expression on his reptilian face. He didn’t look like a criminal, as his dull brown skin and reasonably well-kept tan and black outfit made him appear no different from any other salarian Twilight had seen since coming to the Citadel.

In fact, she had to consider it strange just how “normal” he appeared. Certainly not what she was imagining as the kind of person who associated with ponynapping terrorists.

"Who is he?" Twilight asked, not quite sure that she wanted to hear the answer.

"He's what the humans like to call ‘small potatoes,’" her chaperone and liaison officer explained, clearly less than pleased himself as the video feed showed Inastri continue to calmly question the salarian. "Tono was just like any other dumb punk on the station, always getting into trouble with C-Sec for petty stuff. But his family owned a fairly successful shipping and storage company in Tayseri, and they always bailed him out. At least, until his parents and most of his siblings were killed during the geth attack. Tono inherited the family business, and he didn’t waste any time running it into the ground. Nowadays, he rents out the warehouses and other supplies to his friends in the criminal underworld -- smugglers, drug dealers, you name it.”

While Pyres spoke, Twilight kept her eyes on the footage from the interrogation room, taking a moment to absorb the new information before curiosity got the better of her.

“And what does someone like him have to do with my ponies?” Twilight tried to keep the impatience out of her voice, continuing to watch the feed as Inastri paced back and forth, still speaking to the salarian.

"Consider him a facilitator for shady people," Pyres answered. "We've raided his warehouses on a few occasions and busted some of the lowlifes conducting their business there, but Tono’s always managed to keep his own nose clean. He doesn't do anything elicit himself, he just rents out his equipment and property. He even has a little extra charge on the lease in exchange for turning a blind eye to the seedier among his clients. He says it’s a ‘confidentiality fee.’"

"And this is legal?"

"It’s in a gray area. He's smart enough not to get greedy by asking for a cut of his clients’ profits, and he can pass a biometric lie detector test just by saying he had no knowledge of what they did after the lease was signed. We’ve never had enough concrete evidence to book him, even though myself and every other officer in the Ward have been waiting for the chance to nail him to the wall like he deserves."

Twilight's eyes hardened. "Well, today might just be your lucky day, Lieutenant."

"It is in your best interest to cooperate, Mr. Shaloobo," the asari officer stated sternly, while keeping her mounting irritation firmly in check. With more than two centuries of experience in C-Sec, Captain Inastri operated her precinct by the book, unwilling to compromise the integrity of the Tayseri Department by resorting to the kinds of shortcuts and harsh tactics some of her colleagues were known for.

"I am cooperating, Captain. I agreed to come here at your department’s request, didn’t I?" Tono replied in the high pitched, rapid-fire manner indicative of his species. There was also the hint of a slur, as if his tongue was a little too big for his mouth. "And frankly, I’m insulted by the insinuation that I’m involved in whatever it is you’re accusing me of this time. We’ve been through all this before."

"This time is different." Inastri shook her head, her voice level with equal parts calm and confidence. "We’ve confirmed beyond any doubt that it was your Nebula-Class repulsorlift found at Hashita Shipping."

"Stolen by Hashita Shipping, you mean. And I expect it to be returned to me when this farce is over. Nebulas are expensive, you know."

"I wasn’t finished. We also have an eyewitness account from someone on the scene who claims he saw a cargo shuttle the exact same size and configuration as the ones in your company’s stock."

"Really? That’s your evidence? A stolen repulsorlift and some random bystander who claims he saw one of my shuttles? A shuttle which, for all anyone knows, could have been driven by any one of my competitors." The salarian seemed to relax a bit more, the smug grin on his face seeming all the more genuine. "If that’s all you have, then there’s no more reason to waste my time here. Unless you want me to call in my lawyer, that is. I seem to remember him thoroughly embarrassing you in front of your whole staff last time."

The asari's eyes narrowed into a glare for a moment, although it seemed to have no effect on the salarian. "Oh, trust me, you’re gonna need him... But before that, we have someone else who’s interested in talking with you.”

"Ah, and here comes the fun part," Tono said with a healthy dose of bored sarcasm. "Go ahead, send in the other half of your ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine."

Inastri's lips pressed thin, her scowl hardening at the obstance in the young salarian's tone as she fought to suppress any other outward sign of her chagrin. Without another word, she turned to leave the room, slipping out past the automated doors, which snapped shut behind her.

If Tono was feeling at all unsettled by his current situation, he hid it well as he leaned back slightly in his chair. It was clearly no surprise to him when the door opened again, admitting a turian in full C-Sec Enforcement Armor. But his eyes did widen a little when he happened to recognize the turian’s face.

"...Pyres?" Tono smirked, managing to suppress a small chuckle while his tone took on an almost mocking familiarity. "Sergeant Taxar Pyres? What are you doing in Tayseri? Still chasing down Red Sand dealers in the Wards? I thought that you’d been fired for that little to-do down in Aroch a while back."

"It's Lieutenant Pyres now, Tono." Taxar showed no signs of joviality as he crossed his arms and set his back against the door frame, keeping it open.

“Ah! My mistake,” the salarian said, playfully knocking on his head. "I forgot that in C-Sec, you fail upwards.”

But Tono’s smile faded away to genuine surprise for the first time during the interrogation as a new figure moved up into the room with Pyres letting the door close behind her. Like most residents of the Citadel, he’d seen the Equestrians all over the extranet, but this was his first time meeting one in person. Then recognition struck after only a few seconds of study.

"You… You’re the...?" Tono's composure slipped, unprepared for this kind of eventuality. "Wow. If I had known I’d be meeting royalty, I would’ve worn something nicer. Heh!"

Twilight didn’t even feel the urge to correct him as she silently positioned herself at the other end of the table, glaring all the while.

"Oh, Tono. Poor, oblivious Tono," Pyres said condescendingly as he shook his head a few times. "You really have no idea how big of a pile you’ve stepped in, do you? I always warned you what would happen if you kept doing business with criminals."

"This again? Look, I’ll tell you what I told your boss: whatever it is, I had no part in it.”

"Hiding behind a contract isn’t going to save you this time.” Getting serious, Taxar leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. "You’re not down here because some deadbeat went on a joyride in one of your transports, or because of drugs we happened to find in one of your warehouses. We’re talking kidnapping. Destruction of property. Attempted murder. Terrorism."

“T-t...terrorism? Kidnapping? Murder?” The shock on Tono’s features was plainly evident, as his carefully constructed facade of confidence faltered slightly in the face of these extreme accusations. “Are you mad? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

"Enough of the charade. Where are they?" Twilight spoke up suddenly, with a voice that could cut steel.

"Where are who?" The salarian gave her an expression of disdain before returning his attention to Pyres. "Taxar, if this is your idea of a joke, it’s not very funny."

Pyres leaned in closer, lowering his tone intimidatingly as he replied, “Do I look like I’m joking?”

With both Pyres and Twilight staring daggers at him, Tono was suddenly very aware of how little space there was in the tiny interrogation room. Unable to come up with another witty response on the spot, he just gulped silently.

“What’s the matter, Tono? Varren got your tongue?” Pyres allowed himself a brief smile, then pushed himself up off the table and started slowly pacing the length of the room, just as Inastri had done. The difference this time was that Pyres had managed to get the salarian’s full attention. “Well then, allow me to go ahead and spell out exactly why you’re here.”

"Ninety-seven minutes ago, a number of incendiary explosives were set off in Tayseri District Twelve-Eighty-Six, which, as you may already know, is the designated endangered species habitat of my purple friend here and the rest of her people. In addition to setting several buildings ablaze and injuring more than two dozen civilians, eight Equestrians were abducted during the confusion. The perpetrator or perpetrators then fled into the Keeper Maintenance Tunnels beneath the district, where they grievously injured the Equestrian Director of Defense before making their escape," Taxar explained at length.

He paused for a moment to gauge Tono’s reaction thus far. Judging by the way the salarian’s skin seemed to be a shade paler than before, he figured he was on the right track, and continued laying out the grim details.

"The kidnappers used your equipment to facilitate the abduction. That may not sound like much, but it’s enough to have you tried as an accessory for a violation of the Protected Species Act. Best case scenario, you’re looking forward to at least twenty years in a maximum security penal colony -- and that’s only if the abductees are recovered alive and unharmed. If not, and one or more of them ends up dead because of this, all sapients indicted in connection to this crime are likely to face genocide charges, which is considered a Class A Felony."

By this point, Tono was sitting so still, Pyres couldn’t be sure if he was still breathing or not, so he decided to finish strong and really nail the point home.

"If I’m not mistaken, the sentence for that is still death by spacing." For added effect, the turian stepped towards the table and slammed his fists into it, instantly jarring Tono back to his senses. “Now then… With all that in mind, is there anything more you’d like to say?”

"I… I-I... want my lawyer." Gone was the bluster and bravado in the salarian’s demeanor, replaced the dawning realization that he was now in more dire straits than he had ever anticipated.

"I suppose that’s your right, isn’t it? But let me tell you, no matter how much you’re paying him, when he hears about the odds you’re up against, he’ll be running for the nearest transport off the Citadel.” Pyres raised himself up and crossed his arms. “Unless you want to spend the rest of your miserably short salarian life rotting in prison, you’ll tell us everything you know. Who was using those transports? What do they want with the Equestrians? Where are they now?"

"I don’t… Never meant… I mean, n-never wanted to… I mean…" Tono squeaked out, though the fear in his voice was enough to show that he knew more than he was letting on. Then, suddenly, he blurted out, "You have to believe me, Pyres! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

Something about the way Tono said this, along with the fact that her patience was finally reaching its end, was enough to spur Twilight into action right then and there. Without warning, the unicorn bared her teeth as her horn lit up in a biotic glow, and a similar aura wrapped itself around the table in the center of the room. In a single violent act of frustration, she wrenched it free from the bolts holding it to the floor, and flung it against the wall with the sound of screeching metal and a resounding crash.

Uttering a high-pitched squeal of utter terror, Tono shot up out of his chair and went right for the corner of the room furthest away from the incensed Twilight. And with her head lowered and her lips pulled back in a snarl, she took a single step towards him, her horn still swirling with motes of energy.

“This is your last chance! Where are they!?” she demanded, her voice nearly deafening in the confined space.

“Get away from me, you crazy bitch!” Tono spat out, meekly holding his hands out in a gesture of defense. With fear in his eyes, he looked to the only other being in the room who hadn’t gone completely nuts. “Pyres! Tell her to back off, or I’m pressing charges!”

“Pressing? I’ll show you pressing!” With that, Twilight flicked her head forwards, and Tono felt a wave of pure force shoving him back and up against the wall as he too found himself encased in a purple biotic field.

"You can't do this! I have rights!" Barely able to move under the intense pressure, the salarian struggled nonetheless, his almond-shaped eyes darting around the room. "Pyres, please! Do something!"

"You honestly think I can do anything to stop her? You saw what she did to the table." Pyres allowed himself a small smirk as he gestured to the mangled scrap sitting on the floor underneath the dented wall. “Either you start talking, or I might just step outside for a bit to get some fresh air while you two take a few minutes to work out your differences.”

“One minute is all I need,” said Twilight, as she lifted her hoof and brought it down hard on the metal floor, which groaned in protest.

Tono winced, but not just because he was scared out of his wits, nor because it felt like an elcor was sitting on his chest. It was because he was about to do something he seldom ever did: tell the truth. "Okay, I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Zakera! She's in Zakera! Please, please don’t kill me!"

While Pyres grunted in amusement, Twilight let up -- just a little bit -- on her biotic onslaught. "Who is she?" came her next question.

"An asari. I never got a name, and I didn’t ask after she paid me triple for her privacy," the salarian told her, rambling, the words spilling out like a waterfall despite how difficult it was to breathe. "Said she needed someplace quiet and out of the way, with its own docking bay, so I set her up in a private facility in Zakera I keep off the books. She had mechs -- a lot of mechs. And guns. And a whole lot of fancy tech. That’s all I know, I swear! I don’t know why she took your people! It wasn’t my idea! I didn’t know what she was up to in there! You gotta bel--"

“Shut up, Tono. We get the picture,” Pyres said, finding it hard to think amid Tono’s gibbering. “...A warehouse with a docking bay… That must mean--”

"She's trying to take them off the Citadel," Twilight finished his thought, well aware that if this asari had a ship, once it hit the Relay Network and left Citadel Space, tracking it down would be nearly impossible.

“Is she alone, or is she working with someone?" Pyres demanded, now acutely aware that time was of the essence. "Slavers? Eclipse mercs? Someone in the Terminus Systems?”

“What does it matter? I gave you what you wanted, now let me go!” pleaded Tono.

"First you tell me who’s behind all of this!” Twilight shot back, letting off a slight discharge of energy from her horn as a threat.

“I don’t know!” The salarian's voice went up another octave as he withered under Twilight’s smoldering purple glare. "N-not for sure, anyway. People like me don’t ask those kinds of questions!" That not being the answer she wanted to hear, the unicorn’s brow furrowed a little more, causing Tono to swallow nervously before continuing. "B-but I did hear some rumors. Some of the... p-people I deal with on occasion. They say… Th-they say she's an agent for... the Shadow Broker.”

For the first time, Twilight’s features softened to one of more general confusion, and she turned to look at Pyres for some kind of validation. And with his eyes cast down, he crossed his arms together and let out a long sigh, summing up his feelings about this new development succinctly:

"...Fan-fucking-tastic."

Once the door to the interrogation room slid closed behind them, Twilight and Pyres barely had enough time to plan their next move before they could hear the hard clomping of Captain Inastri’s boots heading straight for them.

“Is that what you call an interrogation?” the asari asked in a hard voice, her face pressed into a scowl. “Lieutenant, I expected you to soften him up a bit, not fucking tenderize the poor bastard.” Inastri’s gaze shifted to Twilight, and she extended a blue finger at her. “And you. You’re paying to repair that wall. I should’ve known it was a bad idea to let you in the room with him, given how involved you are in the situation.”

“It got the job done, didn’t it?” Twilight responded, looking up and mirroring the Captain’s expression. “And I didn’t hurt him… much.”

“Here’s the location of the warehouse Tono mentioned, along with all the other information he could give us.” Pyres stepped forward and offered a datapad to his superior, who snatched it up and looked it over carefully. “If we act now, there’s still a chance we can stop her before she leaves the station.”

After a few seconds of reading the contents of the datapad, Inastri exhaled loudly through her nose, and gave the turian a curt nod. “We’re still going to have a talk about this later. But you’re right, we need to move quickly. Lieutenant, escort Miss Sparkle back to the Visitors’ Center. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a raid to coordinate.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Pyres said with a salute.

With nothing more to say on the matter, Captain Inastri then turned on the spot and headed off further into the C-Sec compound while raising a finger to her comm.

“Contact Captain Bailey in Zakera and notify him of the situation. Tell him we need any support he can offer -- Enforcement, Special Ops, anything. And get Citadel Control on the line, I want details on every ship that’s launched from that area in the last hour, and a grounding order on all space-faring vessels effective immediately.” Both the pony and turian remained behind, silently watching her march off until she spoke up in reply to whoever it was she was communicating with. “Then get the Executor’s authority! I don’t want a single ship taking off until we secure those hostages!”

Soon after, she rounded a corner and went out of sight, leaving Twilight and Pyres in the junction alone, save for a few plainclothes officers diligently performing their work at their desks nearby.

“Well, you heard the lady. Follow me, Madam President,” Pyres spoke up, motioning with his head down the hallway opposite the one Inastri went.

Twilight gave him an annoyed look as he started walking away. “Lieutenant, you can’t honestly expect me to sit on my plot in some Visitor’s Center when I could be helping save my own people.”

“I understand, Madam President, but orders are orders,” Pyres calmly argued back. “This is a C-Sec operation now. The Captain’s the one calling the shots, and despite your prodigious biotic ability, you’re still just a civilian. What do you want me to do?”

Twilight opened her mouth, about to protest further, but soon decided that it probably wasn’t worth forcing the issue. In fairness, the trained professionals in C-Sec were equipped to deal with this kind of thing; she was just a politician with very little combat experience to speak of, as much as she hated to admit it.

But she still had questions -- ones that she hoped the streetwise turian would be able to answer for her.

"Who is the Shadow Broker?" Twilight asked, having felt a sense of foreboding in the back of her mind ever since she heard Tono utter the name. “I’ve heard mention of him before on the extranet, but I don’t really know anything about him.”

"‘Who?’ indeed. Nobody knows for sure who he is, if he’s even a ‘he’ at all. There’s even a rumor that the Broker is actually a group of people working under a single name,” explained the Lieutenant. “Whoever he is, he’s really good at one thing: information. It’s his currency. A whole galaxy’s worth of secrets and he’s the one you contact if you’re interested in buying -- or selling.”

"Secrets? What kinds of secrets?"

"The kinds that entire governments would pay big to keep hidden. From the mundane dalliances of minor political figures to insider info that could crash a planet-wide economy. Knowledge is power, Madam President, and the Shadow Broker knows more than anyone else."

“I see…” Twilight mulled this over for a bit, more than a little disconcerted by what this “Shadow Broker” seemed to represent: near-limitless power and influence with virtually no reproach. Like a king, using the entire galaxy as his own personal chessboard. She shuddered at the thought.

“One thing’s for sure: If the Broker’s involved, then this is a lot bigger than we thought,” Pyres mused in an uncertain tone. If Twilight had to guess, she would think he sounded worried.

“But this whole thing doesn’t make sense,” she put forth, as the two of them neared their destination. “My ponies aren’t ‘information,’ they’re sentient beings! What could he possibly want with them?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Pyres admitted. “Maybe he wants to use them as leverage in exchange for something of the Herd’s. Or maybe he plans on selling them to the highest bidder. I’m sure nobody but the Broker himself knows for certain.”

Twilight couldn't help but huff in frustration as they exited the main section of the District Headquarters into a modest waiting room. The space was large and accommodating, with a receptionist desk, plenty of benches and tables, public extranet terminals, and multiple vid-screens tuned to different channels -- mostly news outlets. It was busy, but by no means crowded, as a variety of Tayseri residents waited to have their affairs attended to by the local police.

"I don't like this… These are my people we’re talking about. I should be doing everything I can to find them and bring them home." Twilight snorted angrily in consternation. “By the time Captain Inastri gets everything in order for her raid, that asari could be halfway across the galaxy! I… Wait a minute.” Twilight stopped, squinting into the distance after catching a glimpse of a familiar, particular shade of fuschia. “Is that Pinkie Pie?”

It was. Off in an empty corner of the Visitors’ Center was the labcoat-wearing mare herself, sitting on her haunches while her eyes were glued to one of the news stations. Accompanying her was Forty-Two, who, due to C-Sec regulations, was not allowed past the entrance for security reasons.

As Twilight and Pyres made their way over, Forty-Two made note of their return, immediately getting up and marching to her side.

“Madam President, there is new information regarding the one who attacked New Ponyville and injured Director Dash,” he spoke up in his clipped public measure. “Further examination of video evidence gathered from a disabled mech at the confrontation site indicates an asari--”

“We already know, Forty-Two,” Twilight said, cutting her assistant off. “We also managed to find out where she’s hiding. One way or another, this will all be over soon.”

“That sure is a relief,” piped up Pinkie, who was still mostly focused on the screen in front of her. “Oh, and hi, Taxar.”

Pyres gave a respectful nod to the Director, but not much else. Twilight, on the other hoof, was momentarily distracted by whatever had her pink friend so entranced, and she too turned to look at it. At first blush it didn’t seem all that relevant, just some ongoing news coverage about a shopping center that had been bombed on some asari world, thousands of lightyears away. They’d apparently just finished putting the fires out.

“Really makes you think, doesn’t it?” Pinkie mused contemplatively. “I mean, with everything that’s happened, it’s hard to remember that the galaxy keeps on spinning and spinning, and everyone else in it is busy just doing their own thing.”

Twilight tilted her head, eyeing the mare curiously. Then she shook herself out of it, wanting to get back to the matter at hoof. “Um, sure, Pinkie... So, what are you even doing here?”

"Oh, I came to turn in those bombs I disarmed back in New Ponyville, and to let C-Sec know what I found out about ‘em," Pinkie replied, her usual upbeat tone a bit muted as she turned away from the news report and looked to her friend, almost gasping at the sight. "Oh, wow... Twilight, are you feeling okay? You look positively beat."

"Never mind what I look like." Twilight shrugged off the comment and tried to focus on the more immediate problem. "What else were you able to find out about the bombs?"

Pinkie instantly snapped to attention, getting back on track. "Right, bombs. Just like I thought: aerosolized Magnesium-Phosphorus compound powders. Dangerous stuff that burns just about anywhere, even in zero atmosphere, which is why it took us so long to put them out even though the docks were mostly made of metal. I was talking to a C-Sec munitions expert about them a while ago, and he said he’d never seen anything so fancy. Chemicals from the Terminus Systems, metal mined on Palaven, and custom parts with no manufacturer’s markings. You can’t just go out and buy this stuff."

"Sounds about right," Taxar mentioned offhandedly, answering the question he knew was coming. “If we really are dealing with an agent of the Broker, then of course she’d go to great lengths to avoid leaving anything that could be traced back to her."

Twilight nodded, following the logic. “And the plan would’ve worked perfectly, except she didn’t count on Rainbow and Twenty-One interfering… Something to be thankful for, I guess."

"So, what do we do now, Twilight?" Pinkie asked, watching her friend with those big, blue eyes of hers.

"Now..." Twilight sighed, defeated. "We wait, Pinkie. We wait and let C-Sec do their job."

Pinkie’s ears lowered, and her posture sunk. "Really? That's it?"

"I'm afraid so, Director," Taxar told them, cracking his neck and readjusting his armor. "Of course... C-Sec being the bureaucratic nightmare that it is, we can only hope someone can stop that agent in time."

Twilight founder herself looking up at the turian. There was something odd about the way he said it that gave her pause. “Lieutenant...?”

Pyres threw his hands up in a shrug. “Anyway, I should probably report back to the Captain. She’ll be needing all the help she can get.” With that, he turned and started walking back towards the entrance to the main building. A few steps in, though, he stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Oh, I almost forgot: I forwarded the information from Tono’s brief to your omni-tool, in case you wanted to examine it more closely. And it should go without saying that the information is strictly confidential. I’m serious, don’t tell anyone.”

Then, the turian did something Twilight would never have expected. He winked at her. It was quick, but noticeable, and Twilight’s mouth fell open slightly as the realization slowly dawned on her. Her lips turning up in a roguish grin, she returned the subtle gesture.

“Thank you, Taxar.”

“For what?” Pyres smirked in response, then turned his back, raising a hand to wave farewell. “Stay safe out there, M.P. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

And without another word, he was gone, leaving the two mares and one changeling to contemplate the significance of his words.

“Forty-Two, hail us a cab,” Twilight directed to her assistant.

If Forty-Two could smile, he would have. “Right away, Madam President,” he answered, already queuing up a command to summon one of the Citadel’s automated Rapid Transit shuttles.

“Let’s go. There’s no time to waste.” With her mind set as she turned and started forward on her way out to the main thoroughfare, Twilight was surprised to hear an annoyed clearing of the throat from behind her.

“A-hem.” Pinkie Pie coughed into her hoof, while directing a cross look at the unicorn. “And just where do you think you’re going?”

“To get our people back, Pinkie,” Twilight said, surprised to be encountering this kind of resistance from Pinkie Pie, of all ponies. “Why? Do you think I can’t handle myself?”

“In circumstances like these? I’m afraid so.” The pink pony maintained a steady poker face as the two mares locked eyes. For a brief second, there was tension in the air between them… but it was lifted the moment the corners of Pinkie’s muzzle opened up in a playful smile. She then reached up to the top of her head, and pulled her thick goggles down over her face. “Which is why I’m going with you.”

The drive inside the cramped space of the autopilot sky car had been a quiet one, Forty-Two would later recall. Twilight said nothing, looking out the window of the driver’s seat as they flew across the vibrant cityscape below, quietly reflecting over the past day’s events, and likely psyching herself up for the coming confrontation.

Pinkie Pie, meanwhile, was busy in the back of the car, dividing her attention between her omni-hoof and her goggles, the lenses of which were constantly flashing as various bits of data floated across her vision. It was a crude but effective means of replicating the kind of heads-up display she’d been fond of using in the Equestria Simulation, and Forty-Two couldn’t say for certain what it was she was studying, but figured it would be wise to avoid tapping into her datastream in order to sate his curiosity.

Regardless, he knew there was no denying the tension inside that cab as their transport closed in on the general location of the asari’s hideout in Zakera Ward. The two mares had certainly weathered dangerous situations and risky scenarios before, but that was in a past life, and during all that time in Equestria, they were never truly in any danger. This was different. They were going up against a new breed of enemy: a cold, calculating criminal with an army of mechs at her disposal and a demonstrated willingness to fight dirty.

There was still time; they still had a chance to turn back... And while Forty-Two doubted Twilight would back out now, surely she must have at least considered it. He wondered if she was thinking about Rainbow, and the sight of her injured and unconscious friend being rolled away on that gurney. He wondered whether it made her imagine herself or Pinkie ending up the same way, or whether it merely fanned the flames of her desire for justice...or revenge.

Whatever the case, the Madam President kept her thoughts to herself, right up until the end. There was no reversed course, no second guesses. For better or worse, they were set on their goal as the cab approached its destination.

"Now arriving at Zakera Ward District One-Thirty-Nine," chimed the amiable voice of the shuttle’s VI. “Thank you for choosing Citadel Public Transit, and have a pleasant day.”

"Too late for that," Twilight grumbled sardonically under her breath, shifting her shoulders as the shuttle came to a slow stop at the end of the empty docking platform.

With a series of clicks, the doors to the shuttle smoothly raised up, allowing the three equines to awkwardly clamber out of the transport and onto the platform. Once they were clear, the automated taxi sealed itself back up and swiftly peeled away, with the whine of its engines receding as it rejoined the lanes of traffic nearby.

Tono had been right about one thing: this was an excellent place for anyone who was looking for some privacy. Visually unappealing even by Wards standards, this section of Zakera was located several levels below the “surface” of the Ward, sandwiched uncomfortably between two bulkheads. There were no stores, no advertisements, no obvious residential buildings, even the illumination came mostly from lights set along the walls and in the high ceiling, instead of natural light from the Serpent Nebula. And apart from Twilight and her friends, there was no other living being to be seen -- not even a Keeper.

From the place where they had been dropped off, a long suspended platform led to a series of recessed doorways that each in turn led to the massive storage warehouses built in close contact with the outside wall of the Ward Arm. It was behind one of those doors where their objective lay.

“Let’s go. Keep quiet,” Twilight whispered before taking the lead, with Pinkie and Forty-Two taking up either side of her flank, both on high alert for any sign of danger.

Even though they were stepping carefully, the sound of their hooffalls echoed ominously around them as Twilight’s eyes scanned the walls for the building address they were looking for.

After a couple of eerily calm minutes, the unicorn stopped directly in front of one of the entrances, peering up and squinting at the simple metal plate that was stamped into the wall.

“Three-eighty-two-dash-one-two-eight…” she breathed out, reading the numbers set into the plate that were the exact same as the ones in the file Pyres had given her. “This is it.”

Like the other such entrances they’d passed by, this one was similarly unremarkable, consisting of a large circular security door recessed inside an otherwise featureless wall. And just like all of the others, projected in front of it was the typical holographic locking interface, colored red to show that nobody without the proper authorization was getting in.

Twilight twisted her neck around, looking to either side along the same wall. “I can’t see any other way inside… I guess we’ll be going through the front door.”

“Wait, Twilight,” Pinkie spoke up. “We don’t know what’s on the other side. It could be another trap.”

“I’m well aware of that, Pinkie, but it doesn’t look like we have much of a choice.” Twilight turned her attention to her assistant. “Forty-Two, what can you tell us?”

“Very little, Madam President. Auditory and thermal scans indicate zero activity in the immediate area,” Forty-Two relayed, his antennae blinking as he searched for any kind of signal. “I am also unable to detect any open broadcasts or wireless hardpoints. This door in particular appears to be running as part of a closed system. I will not be able to bypass its security remotely.”

“That won’t be a problem,” said Pinkie as she casually stepped up to the door, her goggles starting to emit a dim blue light. After scanning over its surface for a few seconds, she nodded to herself, powering down her eyewear and lifting a hoof to point at a single rectangular panel in the door. “Mind giving me a hoof with this, Twilight?”

“Sure thing,” Twilight answered, focusing her biotic energy on the panel as her horn started to glow. With a quick yank, she effortlessly tore it off and placed it to the side, revealing the complex circuitry within. “Whatever you’re doing, be careful, Pinkie. We don’t want to set off any alarms.”

In response, Pinkie rolled her eyes and condescendingly waved a hoof at her friend. “Puh-lease, Twilight. I could design a better system than this with my eyes closed. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

With that, Pinkie sat down on her haunches in front of the exposed wiring and switched on her omni-hoof, holding it close to the opening. All of a sudden, pieces of the holographic orange interface split off from the main device into a sort of circular pattern of odd wedges and shapes, all circling around the base of her hoof in a confusing display that Twilight just couldn’t make sense of.

A few seconds in, the locking hologram on the door started to fizzle as the occasional burst of sparks leapt from the open panel. Then, it shut off completely, accompanied by a harsh buzzing sound, only to be reactivated a short moment later, though it was now colored a welcoming bright green.

“Piece of cake!” Pinkie smiled winningly, deactivating her omni-hoof and stepping away from the door. Making an exaggerated bow, she leaned forward with her hoof held out in a beckoning motion. “After you, O’ fearless leader.”

Twilight gave her pink friend a look that said, “Really?” before shaking her head and staring directly forward. Breathing in deeply, she said, “Okay, everypony, here we go. Be ready for anything.”

Every muscle in Twilight’s body was tensed up as she moved forward into the door’s detection range. With a soft tone, the hologram disappeared, and the raised circle in the middle of the door spun around three-hundred and sixty degrees. With a sharp clack and a subtle grinding sound, the door split down the middle and smoothly slid into the walls on either side.

Once done, Twilight could breathe a momentary sigh of relief, as the room beyond appeared to be completely empty. The group took a few cautious steps inside, examining the area to find it almost as disappointingly bland as the outside. All there was was a single curved desk against a wall in the back, which was bare and had nothing behind it. There was also a hallway off to the right that went for some distance before turning a corner.

Without saying a word, Twilight flicked her head in that direction, and the three of them continued onwards down the only path available. After a peek around the bend to make sure the coast was clear, Twilight led the group further down the hallway, which they could see opening up into a brightly lit area further ahead. As they grew closer, they could start to hear the low hum of industrial machinery, and other sounds indicating movement of some kind. With the utmost caution, they approached the exit, and upon getting their first glimpse inside, there was little doubt that they’d come to the right place.

The first thing that Twilight was able to take in about the area was the sheer size of the warehouse, easily big enough to fit the entire length of New Ponyville’s Docks and twice their width. Clearly, this kind of place was meant to store a large amount of cargo. Right now, though, it seemed remarkably empty for its size, with only some areas blocked off by massive shipping crates while the rest of the floorspace was dotted with smaller ones that would barely reach up to the average human’s chest.

“Warning: motion detected, thirty-seven yards away and approaching. I recommend we find cover,” Forty-Two alerted just loud enough to hear. Immediately, the two ponies crept from the hallway opening over to a nearby a stack of crates, followed by Forty-Two.

They heard the mechs before they saw them: two of the bipedal LOKI-type security droids common throughout the galaxy, apparently following a pre-programmed patrol routine. Thankfully, they didn’t notice anything suspicious before walking right on past where the three intruders were hiding.

“I think we’re in the right place,” Pinkie offered, keeping her voice low and her ears perked up as they waited to hear for any more signs of danger.

Checking to see if the coast was clear, Twilight hopped on her hind legs and propped herself up against their cover, poking her head up just enough to see. Now that they were inside, more details of the warehouse were revealed. There were more LOKIs wandering around, as well as a few others hunched over in a deactivated state, but the asari agent was nowhere to be seen, nor any other organics. Off in the distance against the far wall was a big rectangular door, the only other apparent exit from that room. But that wasn’t nearly as important as what was to their left: a docking platform for interstellar vessels. And sitting in the berth, with the docking clamps still in place and the airlock terminal still extended, was what was obviously a ship.

“Forty-Two, do you see that ship?” Twilight whispered down to her assistant, who stuck his neck out to see what Twilight was pointing out.

“Identifying...” Forty-Two replied as he quickly looked over the ship and cross-referenced the details on the extranet. “Kowoon-Class modular cargo freighter, human design. Standard crew compliment of six. Registered under the name: MSV Rodrigo.”

“Hmmmm...” Pinkie also peeked her head out, making observations of her own with those goggles of hers. “I’m not getting any readings to indicate that the drive core is active. They’re not taking off any time soon.”

“What are the chances our ponies are already on board?” Twilight asked.

“I’d say pretty good. The cargo ramp is retracted and I don’t see any of the crew around. Odds are they’re still prepping for launch.”

“How long do we have, Pinkie?”

“Judging from their current state?” Pinkie’s eyewear flashed a couple of times as she ran the numbers. “About ten minutes, assuming they follow proper preflight procedures. Six minutes if they skip all that stuff and just gun the engines.”

“Okay, good. Now we need a plan.” Twilight nodded, putting her formidable powers of deduction to use. “The mechs don’t seem all that smart, and there’s only a few of them. Maybe we can sneak up--”

Twilight was suddenly interrupted by a high-pitched noise coming from alarmingly close by. The sound that cut her off was quite strange to the two ponies, who both had to look up and around for a moment before locating the source of the odd electronic wail. Even Forty-Two was taken aback as a quadrupedal, dog-shaped mech -- a FENRIS model, to be precise -- announced its presence on the far side of the crates they were hiding behind. As they watched, the FENRIS’ optic lights turned red with aggression, and it wasted no time in charging forward with obvious intent.

Reacting out of a mix of shock and panic, Pinkie Pie threw herself between the mech and her friends, extending her hoof out in its direction. With a single thought, her omni-hoof activated, and right after that, a crackling blue ball of energy formed at the base of her hoof and shot directly at the attacker.

A direct hit. The effect was almost immediate, with the FENRIS stopping in its tracks as the electricity from Pinkie’s attack caused its circuits to crackle and smoke. With a whine of burnt-out machinery, the mech’s optics went dark and it clattered to the ground, dead.

“Yes! It worked!” Pinkie hissed triumphantly. But the victorious grin on her face dropped like a stone when a new sound blasted into the air: the unmistakable blaring of an alarm siren. “Uh-oh.”

“So much for stealth!” Twilight lamented, looking back over their cover to see all the mechs within sight suddenly activate and turn in their direction with unsettling unity. Their optics flashed red as they reached for their weapons, each uttering some permutation of “Hostiles detected.”

Knowing that her Overload program needed time to recharge, Pinkie’s head snapped around, wearing a worried expression. “How about that plan, Twilight!?”

Forced to think quickly on the spot, Twilight put together the only logical course of action. “Pinkie, take Forty-Two and get to that ship. Do whatever it takes to keep it from leaving!”

Pinkie nodded in understanding. “And what about you?”

At that, Twilight flashed her friend a dangerous grin. “I’m gonna show these tin cans just who they’re dealing with.”

Before anything else could be said, the unicorn turned on the spot and shot out from cover, sparing a moment to dig her forehoof into the ground before leaping into a charge. All of the stress, all of the fatigue from the past few days was washed away by the rush of adrenaline now coursing through her system. And it was with a happy sort of feeling that Twilight realized something about the enemy she now faced: they weren’t even alive. These mechs were just piles of metal and wires, and they were in her way.

She had no reason to hold back.

The nearest mech was caught off guard by her sudden appearance. It wasted a precious second attempting to line up a shot, which was all the time the unicorn needed. "Hostile en--" it attempted to say as it followed her movement, only to be interrupted as she used her biotics to shove a crate off of a nearby stack and onto the mech, pinning it to the ground and crushing it.

Then, her grace period was over, as the fallen automaton’s allies took the opportunity to get her in their sights, and suddenly, the air was alive with the sound of gunfire and prerecorded battle cries. Reacting instantly, Twilight summoned up a barrier of pulsating lavender light in a quarter-dome in front of her, deflecting the hail of bullets while she examined the situation. Time seemed to slow down around her, but her mind was still as lightning quick as it had always been. Only now, instead of complex math and magical formulae, she focused on how to cause the most destruction with the least amount of energy.

Seventeen LOKIs, eight submachine gun, nine heavy pistol, she counted in her head, ignoring the tiny snaps of pain she felt in her horn with each bullet that ricocheted off her barrier. Two FENRIS models, each armed with a short-range electrical attack. Don’t let them get close. She tilted her head to the side just enough to catch sight of her friends in her peripheral vision. Pinkie and Forty-Two are skirting around the edge of the warehouse, which means these robots are all focused on me. Good. Let's keep the fight where it belongs.

With all variables in place in her mind's eye, Twilight blinked, took a deep breath, and surged forward.

Spotting a cluster of enemies coming around to her right near another stack of equipment, she used another biotic push to send it toppling over, incapacitating them and securing her flank. Sidestepping over while keeping her shield focused in the direction of the mechs’ fire, the “barks” of the two FENRISes alerted her to their attempt to rush at her. Her solution to this was to create a small pocket of zero gravity right in their path, and when the two doglike robots ran over it, they suddenly found themselves lifting into the air and hurtling harmlessly over her head. For good measure, she gave them another telekinetic nudge in midflight, boosting them even higher, and when gravity finally decided to kick back in, the fall was enough to take them out of commission with a satisfying crunch.

Another burst of gunfire against her barrier brought Twilight’s attention back to the remaining mechs. Her barrier was holding, but the steadily building pressure behind her eyes acted as a reminder that it was probably unwise to stay out in the open. She needed to find cover, fast.

Counting on the LOKIs’ limited mobility, Twilight kept her shield close to her side as she doubled back and put some distance between them and her, diving around the pile of debris she’d created earlier. Once there, she let her barrier fall, grateful for the opportunity to catch her breath, despite the sound of bullet impacts that continued to pepper her cover.

Now that she was able to take a break from the fighting, Twilight was quickly starting to feel the effects of her biotic expenditures. As powerful and resourceful as she was, even she could admit she wasn’t at peak condition going into the situation, and if she kept fighting like this, surely she would hit her limit, and she wouldn’t be of much use to anyone if she passed out from exhaustion. She needed a new strategy.

With the remaining mechs slowly advancing on her position, Twilight searched her surroundings for anything that might give her an edge. That’s when she spotted a discarded heavy pistol laying on the ground next to her, and without thinking, she immediately snatched it up in her biotic grasp.

Now, Twilight knew her understanding of standard galactic weaponry was far from thorough, but an ordinary pistol seemed simple enough to operate: Just aim at the thing you want shot and pull the trigger. Easy, right?

Taking a chance, Twilight braced herself and raised her head just high enough over her cover to see her targets, which were only twenty yards away now, and closing. Then she levitated the weapon forward, lined up her shot, and squeezed the trigger. Right away, she was surprised by the amount of recoil, and struggled to realign her aim after that first shot missed. She shot again. Another miss, and as a round from one of her enemies’ guns impacted mere inches from her head, the increasingly frustrated Twilight decided to forego subtlety altogether.

“Come on, you stupid gun!” she let out in a shout of primal anger as she squeezed off round after round in the mechs’ direction, finding it hard to compensate for the recoil and simply hoping for the best. But as she continued her onslaught, absolutely none of her shots connected, right up until she pulled the trigger one last time only to be greeted with a burst of hot steam escaping from vents on the gun’s sides -- her thermal clip was spent already.

Twilight ducked back under cover, scowling at the overheating firearm. “Useless!” she spat, tossing the thing onto the ground with a mix of rage and disgust. Now she needed a new new plan, and fast.

Come on, think, Twilight, think! The stress of battle was really creeping up on her now, making her heart race, and her fur to mat with sweat. Not even the cessation of the constant gunfire and blaring alarms did much to make it easier to… Wait… What happened to all the noise?

Indeed, it took Twilight a few seconds to realize that, despite the ringing in her ears, the cacophony happening around her had completely stopped.

Daring to see what the hay was going on, Twilight peeked out from cover again to find that the mechs had completely halted their advance. Their optic lights were red, and their weapons were aimed directly at her, but other than that, they were completely still.

“What the…?” Twilight tilted her head to the side, utterly confused by this new development, until a new sound broke the odd silence: the harsh static of the warehouse’s PA system crackling to life.

“That’s quite enough, Twilight Sparkle,” said the voice on the other end of the system. It was obviously female, sultry, and carried more than a hint of antagonism. It caused Twilight to bristle at the thought that she was now addressing the being who’d caused her and her people so much pain already. “That’s right, I know who you are. And I know why you’re here. What I can’t comprehend is what you were hoping to accomplish, coming all by yourself.”

By myself? The unicorn wondered in brief puzzlement before she realized: in all the commotion, the agent must not have been aware of Pinkie and Forty-Two!

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to take you down, and I don’t need anypony’s help to do it!” Twilight shouted back, putting on false bravado as she bought some time and discretely opened a communication link to Pinkie’s omni-hoof from her own. Whispering as quietly as she could in the direction of her hoof, she said, “Pinkie, where are you?”

“We’re almost to the ship’s airlock. Keep her talking!” came the pink mare’s hushed reply, and Twilight’s omni-hoof blinked off again.

“Eager to join your multi-colored friend in the hospital, eh?” the asari said with an audible sneer, obviously not buying it. And the way she talked so casually about Rainbow almost brought Twilight’s blood to boil. “You’ve put on an impressive show so far, but it ends now. I won’t let you get in the way of completing my mission, not when I’m this close.”

“Then why don’t you just get it over with?” Twilight eyes darted between the mechs, still pointing their weapons at her. While she was busy stalling, she also tried to think of where the asari could be hiding... Obviously not on the ship, or else they would’ve just tried to take off already. And it had to be somewhere close by, if the agent was able to keep tabs on her so easily.

“My orders were to limit Equestrian casualties as much as possible. It’s the only reason your Director Dash is still breathing, otherwise, those two bullets would’ve gone right between her eyes.” The asari’s words cut deep, sending another flare of white-hot anger up Twilight’s spine. “You should be grateful. I’m giving you the chance to leave now, before you end up doing something you’ll regret.”

Just then, Twilight’s eyes fell on the large door far down on the other end of the room. There, she thought. She has to be in there.

“And if I refuse?” she asked facetiously, already formulating her next course of action as her horn began to smolder.

“Then I order the mechs to open fire, and we’ll see how long you last,” the asari answered without a hint of remorse. If Twilight had to guess, she would think the agent was just hoping she’d refuse. “What’s it going to be, Madam President?”

Twilight took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to maintain her calm in the face of her rising anger. No doubt, this was a tricky and dangerous situation… but at the same time -- and as this agent was about to find out -- Twilight was a very, very dangerous pony.

“I think I have a better idea.”

Without warning, Twilight leapt up on her barricade, using the better vantage point to target precisely where her next attack would go. With a great surge of energy through her horn, she focused everything she had on a single, infinitesimally small point right at the center of the cluster of mechs, crushing and condensing the space until the very fabric of reality caved in on itself.

Also known in biotic circles as a Singularity.

At once, the point expanded into a ball of inky black darkness about a foot across, as the immense gravity given off by the event started to pull the mechs toward it. Those that were in its immediate vicinity were lifted completely off their feet and sent into orbit, banging into each other in a frenzy of flailing metal limbs. The rest struggled for purchase, unable to compensate for the shift in gravity.

And Twilight wasn’t even finished, as she had one more trick up her sleeve. She’d read on the extranet that mixing biotic techniques could be dangerous and unpredictable, but that was the farthest thing from her mind as her horn lit up with another charge of dark energy. Groaning with exertion, she then snapped her head forward, launching the bright, shifting violet mass of her Warp field at the center of the miniature black hole, ripping apart the matter in its path at the subatomic level.

Twilight’s ears flattened against her skull, but she did not look away as the field impacted the Singularity, negative and positive energy colliding with cataclysmic results. The subsequent explosion was enough to nearly blow her off her perch, sending her mane and tail whipping around her body. The mechs that were closer than that… weren’t so lucky.

Her ears ringing, Twilight managed a few short, quick breaths as she felt her withers twitch and her legs quiver under her. Delicately, she stepped down, careful to avoid the smoking and sparking LOKI pieces scattered at her hooves and everywhere else on the floor, some still burning with a ghostly purple flame.

Despite her fatigue, Twilight still managed a grin as she looked up and at the ceiling. “You’d better get ready, because you’re next!” she shouted tauntingly.

“...We’ll see about that,” came the asari’s flat reply, before a sharp click indicated that she’d cut off the PA system.

“Hmph!” Twilight scoffed, puffing out her chest and riding a little high with the idea that she’d stunned the asari into silence with her display of power. Sure, that stunt had left her pretty drained, but she was still more than ready and eager enough to put an end to all of this. All that was left standing in her way was a single door--

“Twilight, watch out!” came Pinkie’s voice coming in via her omni-hoof. “You’ve got YMIRs incoming!”

Pinkie’s warning made Twilight pause halfway to her destination, looking down at her hoof with a puzzled expression. “‘Eee-mer’? What the hay is an ‘eee-mer’?”

“Heavy mechs! Two of ‘em, coming in from the dock!” Pinkie cried out, her tone completely lacking any of the childlike enthusiasm that she had often displayed in dangerous situations of the past.

That was when she heard it: the whirring of machines, originating from somewhere up above her. Twilight’s ears pitched around, locking on to the source as she turned her head to see. Up near the warehouse ceiling, making their way from the dock area, were two big industrial winches riding a track, each one carrying what looked like a white metal box. She watched as they stopped just in front of the door and simultaneously released their payloads, which dropped to the floor with a pair of heavy clangs.

Then the metal boxes, standing nearly a foot taller than she did, began to unfold. In an instant, a dreadful chill ran through Twilight, coming to the realization of exactly what Pinkie was talking about. Not even available on the civilian market, “YMIR” Class Heavy Mechs were considered the gold standard when it came to unmitigated destruction. Three meters tall, wrapped in layers of armor and kinetic barriers, and armed to the metaphorical teeth with high-yield targeted missiles and a main cannon that could fire more than a hundred rounds of ammunition in the span of just five seconds.

And there were two of them.

By the time Twilight even had a chance to process this information, the two beastly weapons were finished deploying. One turned its head towards her, similar in design to its smaller cousins scattered around the warehouse, but the red of its lights seeming all that much more menacing.

“Target acquired.”

Twilight's eyes widened in horror as it brought its right arm up, the flaps on the corners drawing back to reveal the barrel of an enormous gun. Not even her barrier would survive the imminent assault; it would get torn to shreds before the mech’s gun even started to overheat -- and that wasn’t even counting its equally deadly friend. Neither was there anything she could do to combat them directly, as kinetic shielding was particularly effective at nullifying biotics. She only had one option…

Run.

Coming to her senses, Twilight scrambled on her hooves, darting off to the side just as the spot she’d just been standing on became riddled with bright red holes. The trail of gunfire followed her, and it was probably her saving grace that the YMIR’s targeting algorithms were likely calibrated for bipedal targets, which tended to be slower on their feet than the average pony. Still, she could nearly feel the heat coming off those rounds as she ran around the side of a giant shipping container.

Her heart nearly bursting out of her chest, Twilight winced as she felt the followup impact of a rocket hitting the outside corner of the container. Thankfully, the metal was sturdy enough to deflect it, but the heavy clinks and clanks of the mechs’ footsteps were a steady reminder that she wouldn’t be safe for long. If she was to survive this, she wouldn’t manage it by herself.

“Pinkie! Forty-Two! I’m pinned down and need help!” she yelled desperately into her omni-hoof. “Oh, Celestia, they’re coming!”

“I’m on my way, Twi,” came her reply in the form of Forty-Two’s voice, which had dropped its robotic flatness and mimicked her own urgency. “Just hold on for a few more seconds.”

“I don’t think I have a few more seconds!” Twilight shouted back, as another rocket impact blasted her cover, tearing away a decent-sized chunk of it. She looked around, finding another suitable spot to lay low, but one that meant she would have to expose herself again.

I need some kind of distraction, she reasoned, when her eyes fell upon a nearby disabled LOKI that had survived her combined attack mostly whole. Twilight put together her plan right there and, with the mech’s footsteps almost upon her, she waited for a lull in the rapid patter of machine gun fire before dashing out again into the open.

One of the YMIR’s sensors picked her up immediately, and with the barrel of its right gun still white hot and steaming, it shifted back in preparation for launching another missile. This was exactly what Twilight had been counting on, as she pulled on her dwindling stamina to biotically lift up the wrecked LOKI and fling it toward its larger cousin. The timing needed to be perfect, and luckily for Twilight, she’d been damn near spot on.

“Firing.”

Completely ignoring the motion of the inactive LOKI as irrelevant data, the YMIR failed to account for where its trajectory was headed, and by the time it registered the obstacle, it was too late. The rocket it fired left the chamber and hit the robot corpse not even a foot away, detonating on impact.

It all happened so fast that Twilight didn’t have time to get far enough away, and the resulting shock-wave hit her side and tossed her to the ground. “Ungh!” she grunted, feeling a slight stinging across her skin where bits of shrapnel embedded themselves in the thick hide of her garments, but otherwise left her unharmed.

Her head was nearly swimming, but still she tried to get her hooves underneath her. Gasping for breath, she chanced a look over her shoulder to see what kind of damage she’d caused, if any. As the smoke cleared, Twilight could see she’d been at least partially successful, with a cascade of blue sparks indicating that her target’s shields had been taken down. Its left arm had also been mangled, the rocket launcher bent at an odd angle, and its optics flickered as it tried to regain its senses.

On the other hoof...

“Target acquired.”

Twilight gasped with the realization that the other of the two mechs had been far enough away from the blast to not suffer any real damage at all. In fact, it seemed to be in perfect working order as it swung its arm around, the barrel extending as Twilight could hear the chamber spinning up, ready to fire.

Twilight squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the inevitable. If this was the end, at least she could be proud of the fact that she went down fighting. She hoped it would at least be over quickly.

Seconds ticked by, with the unicorn holding her breath, still waiting for the sound of the spinning gun to turn into the firing of shots. But when more than a few moments passed with Twilight remaining very much alive, curiosity got the better of her, and she opened her eyes a sliver.

What she saw almost made her jaw drop. The YMIR’s main gun was still pointed at her, but its optic lights were acting strangely, shifting from blue, to red, to off, and back again, almost as if it couldn’t decide what to do. Then, all was made clear when the lights snapped off once more… only to come back on in a shining, familiar green.

As Twilight watched, she felt her spirit soar as the mech suddenly turned on the spot, bringing its gun arm to bear on its unshielded twin.

“Target acquired,” said the mech, only this time, it wasn’t the tone of a dumb, emotionless robot. And then it opened fire.

With its shields down and its response still sluggish, the damaged mech didn’t stand a chance. Its armor plating was peeled away within the first second, punching its torso full of holes and blowing copious amounts of its “guts” out the other side. The path of the stream of bullets then travelled upwards, shredding the mech’s head into a shower of metal and clear plastic shards.

Then the bullets stopped, a rapid series of clicks indicating that the firing mechanism had overheated for now. Not like it mattered very much, as the hulk of scrap that used to be the first YMIR slowly fell back and collapsed under its own weight, bits of it giving off small explosions almost as an afterthought.

Coughing a few times, Twilight got up on her hooves, meekly looking up at her unexpected ally. “Forty-Two… is that really you in there?”

“Not quite,” came her assistant’s voice from an altogether different direction, causing Twilight to bring her head around toward the dock area. There, his wings buzzing as he floated up in clear view a fair ways from the MSV Rodrigo, was her steadfast changeling. “As if I would allow a single bit of my code inside that monster.”

In spite of herself, Twilight cracked a smirk, chuckling lightly. “Thanks, Forty-Two. You really saved my hide.”

“I wouldn’t celebrate just yet, Twilight,” Forty-Two cautioned. “As we speak, the YMIR’s processes are fighting back, attempting a hard reset of the system to regain control.”

Twilight gasped, instinctively taking a few steps away from the motionless behemoth.

“Not to worry. Before that happens, I’ll trigger the mech’s self-destruct sequence,” he assured her. “You may want to get to a safe distance.”

“Right.” The unicorn nodded, trotting away at a steady clip to take shelter behind another stack of crates. Once she was secure, she spoke up again. “Okay, I’m clear. Blow it to Tartarus.”

“With pleasure.”

All of a sudden, the YMIR’s optic lights began flashing on and off, and its limbs started twitching erratically, like it was possessed by a ghost. Its power core, located somewhere near its chest, was now glowing bright orange as it was pushed far beyond its limits into full meltdown. Then, as if sensing its own demise, the mech ducked down and pressed its arms inward, resuming its boxy, condensed form. A second of silence ticked by, then the YMIR was violently ripped apart from within, creating a small but bright fireball that extended up and into the air, making for an impressive sight.

“Woo-hoo!” Twilight shouted with barely-contained elation as the last of their opposition literally went up in flames. Then, her triumphant grin gradually melted away as she realized that their mission wasn’t quite over yet. She brought her omni-hoof up, turning it on and connecting to Pinkie again. “Pinkie, we’re all clear over here. What’s your status?”

“I’m almost done with the airlock door,” the earth mare said back through the link. “After that, knocking out the crew should be no problemo. I got a few more fun programs I’ve been itching to try.”

Twilight sighed with relief. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Will do!” Pinkie replied cheerfully, terminating the link. Meanwhile, Twilight looked back up at her assistant.

“You should go back to Pinkie. She might need help getting the ship under control.”

Forty-Two turned his head, giving his mistress a sideways glance. “If you think that’s best, Twilight… But… what about you?”

Twilight huffed, setting her sights on the door to the administration office that lay across a battlefield of smoke and debris, and narrowing her eyes. At that moment, she would really like to have laid down and taken a nap right then and there, but she still had more than enough energy left to take care of one last thing.

“I’m going to file a complaint…”

“Come in! Shadow Broker, come in!”

Standing over a bank of computers with an assortment of camera feeds and an open comm channel displayed on the screen, an asari clad in skin-tight black armor grit her teeth as she desperately attempted to contact the being on the other end of the comm-line.

“Shadow Broker, respond! I need orders, dammit!” she continued, bringing her fist down on the console in a mix of frustration and worry.

Worry that was entirely justified, as evidenced by the telltale warping sound of biotic energy coming from behind her. With her breath catching in her throat, the asari turned her head towards the heavy security door standing between her and the main warehouse complex. There, she could see glimmers of violet penetrating through the split in the middle as they gradually coalesced into a solid field that soon spread out along the outer surface. Then, there was a gruesome shriek of grinding metal as the sturdy locks binding the door in place were wrenched out of their holdings through sheer force. The door’s red holographic interface fizzled and vanished, and in confirmation of the asari’s dire predicament, it began to open.

The door mechanism continued to whine in protest, but there was really nothing more it could do, the two halves parting to reveal the haggard face and intense violet eyes of a dusty, disheveled, but still very angry unicorn. Once the opening was big enough, Twilight edged her way inside, keeping a shimmering barrier in front of her as she was expecting further hostility. The asari disappointed her, though, by turning around to face her with hands held up in the air.

“Now, Madam President, let’s not do anything hasty…” she implored in an attempt at a businesslike tone.

Twilight scowled, taking one step further into the room. “Really? Give me one. Good. Reason,” she growled lowly, her hackles rising in tandem with her anger.

“Alright, then…” Calmly, and without any sudden movements, the agent lowered her left hand around to her side, making it clear what she was doing. Then she placed her hand on the barrel of the pistol secured to her hip, and slowly disconnected it. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it away, sending it clattering to the ground on the other side of the office. Next, she brought her hand up near her neck, to the base of her skull, and what she did next surprised even Twilight.

The agent clenched her fist, her face curling up in a grimace of discomfort, and in one swift motion, she yanked her hand back with the sound of something coming loose. In her palm, she now held what looked like a small translucent chip, which Twilight immediately recognized as a biotic amp. That too was tossed away, rendering the asari’s biotic potential to nearly zero at this point.

Now summarily disarmed, the agent brought her hands up again in an open gesture of defeat. “...I surrender.”

Twilight drew back, obviously unprepared for this eventuality. “That’s it? After everything you’ve done, all the people you’ve hurt, and sending out those mechs? You’re just giving up?”

In response, the asari let out a brief scoff. “Are you really so surprised? I’m no fool, Twilight. I know I wouldn’t survive a direct encounter with you, after seeing what you’re capable of. I honestly never thought you would make it this far. I’m very impressed.”

Despite Twilight’s misgivings, she couldn’t deny the degree of sincerity in those words. She knew better than to trust this person any more than she would a predator in the wild, but her instincts were also telling her that the asari was no longer a threat to her.

Still, she wasn’t about to take any chances, as she motioned her head in the direction of the floor. “Get on your knees.”

This caused a sly expression to cross the asari’s face. “Don’t you think it’s a little early for that? We’ve only just met.”

“On your knees, now,” Twilight repeated, clearly in no mood for games. “And put your hands behind your head.”

“Alright, alright…” The asari acquiesced, doing as the unicorn asked and lowering herself to the floor. Twilight then glanced to the side, spotting a cluster of thin metal pipes along the wall. Using her biotics, she yanked one out and levitated it over behind the agent, sliding it underneath her calves before bending it around as easily as a piece of rope. She made sure to constrict the asari’s hands as tightly as she could, twisting the end into a knot, and when she was finished, she could finally relax, confident that the woman was now completely helpless. Twilight breathed out a sigh, letting her barrier fall now that it was safe to do so.

“So, now that you have me all trussed up, what is it you plan on doing with me?” the asari asked, managing a straight poker face that masked any apprehension she might’ve been feeling.

Twilight started walking forward, never taking her eyes off the asari. “I still haven’t decided yet… but for now, I’m going to ask you some questions. And you’re going to answer them. Got it?”

“By all means, ask away,” the agent replied flippantly. “As for the answers, you might not like what you hear.”

“Hmph.” Twilight stopped and turned, facing the asari directly. “Who are you?”

"Who I am is not important." The blue woman shook her head, sounding somewhat amused. "It’s who I work for that you should be more concerned about."

"...The Shadow Broker," Twilight stated, her tone making it clear that it was not a question.

This elicited an intrigued eyebrow raise from the asari. “Once again, you impress me." She shrugged, clearly having not expected that Twilight would know this and making no attempt to play coy. "It seems I’ve underestimated you in more ways than one, Madam President. You are correct."

“Why did you do this?" Twilight demanded next, the anger in her tone palpable. “What reason could you possibly have for abducting eight innocent ponies?”

"You mistake my intentions. I was only doing what I was ordered to." The asari shrugged again. "To be fair, it was only observation at first: gathering data, samples, monitoring you and your kind, and reporting back any useful information. But eventually, samples weren’t enough; the Broker wanted live specimens, and what the Broker wants, he gets."

“‘Specimens’?” Twilight tried to fight a shudder of revulsion. “Just what is he planning on doing with them?”

“I don’t know, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be telling you,” the agent said bluntly. “The Broker doesn’t guard his secrets lightly. His reasons are his own, and as long as the credits keep coming, that’s good enough for me.”

“Is that all that matters to you? Getting paid?” Twilight didn’t think it was possible, but she found her opinion of this alien woman being lowered even further. “The Shadow Broker tells you to steal ponies away from their friends and families so he can perform Celestia knows what kinds of sick, twisted experiments on them, and the only thing you care about is how much money you’ll get!?”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” The asari sounded a bit testy, annoyed at how this seemed like such a foreign concept to someone as purportedly smart as the leader of a whole species. “If it makes you feel any better, I assure you, none of this was personal.”

"Not personal?" Twilight all but exploded, baring her teeth. “And what about Rainbow Dash? I find it hard to believe what you did to her was anything but personal!”

“The Director got in my way. I did what was necessary to keep her from endangering my mission,” the agent explained matter-of-factly. “Come to think of it, you should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you!?” Twilight spat out.

"The Broker has many agents under his employ, and not all of them are as… professional as I am. I have no doubt that some of the more bloodthirsty ones wouldn’t have shown her the slightest bit of mercy if they were in the same situation."

Twilight was aghast. "You honestly expect me to believe that crippling Rainbow for life was an act of mercy?"

"Believe whatever you want. If you want to continue thinking I’m some kind of monster, go right ahead." The asari closed her eyes briefly, giving a contemplative smile. “In the end, it doesn’t really matter what you think of me.”

"And how do you figure that?"

“Well, the way I see it, you have two options on how to proceed.” The asari’s hard, cold blue eyes locked with Twilight’s, presumably to appear intimidating in spite of her situation. “The first one is quite simple: You let me walk out of here unchallenged… and we go our separate ways.”

Twilight’s response was immediate. “Absolutely not! If you think I’m just going to let slide everything you’ve done to me -- to us -- then you are sorely mistaken!”

“You didn’t let me finish.” The asari lowered her head, still maintaining eye contact. “By now I assume those sneaky allies of yours have secured the Rodrigo -- that ship, and everything on it, are yours to deal with as you see fit. As for myself, I will report back to the Shadow Broker everything that’s happened here today. He does not take kindly to failure, but regardless, I am still an important asset to him. He will know that the Equestrian Herd is not to be taken lightly.”

“So I’m just supposed to take you at your word?” The unicorn raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And what difference does it make what you tell him? I thought the Broker ‘always’ gets what he wants.”

“I have little to gain by lying to you now, Madam President,” the asari put it plainly. “As for the Broker, he is nothing if not cautious; he will think twice before trying something again, especially now that you’re aware of the threat he poses.”

“I’ll bet.” Twilight shook her head roughly, trying to dissuade herself of the asari’s argument. Of course she’d say anything she could to avoid the inevitable. “It doesn’t matter, though. C-Sec is on its way, and once they take you in, they’ll see to it that you answer for your crimes.”

“Ah, yes. I assumed as much. How predictable.” The agent let out a private chuckle. “I would advise against turning me over to the authorities, and not only for my sake, but for yours as well.”

Twilight’s ears shifted back, confused by the statement. “And why is that, exactly?” she asked, intrigued.

“First off, I should point out that the justice system here on the Citadel isn’t nearly as airtight as you seem to believe,” the asari went on, acquiring a playful smirk. “Oh, sure, I’ll be detained, thrown in a cell, I may even be put on trial. But as I said before: I am an important asset to the Broker, and the Broker takes care of his assets. Whether it’s by a few greased palms or the release of some ‘compromising’ information, eventually, I will slip through the cracks.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed at the woman. “...You’re bluffing.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” The asari’s smirk didn’t falter, making it clear that she’d played this game many times before. “But regardless of what happens, surely I’ll be questioned by more than one person of authority while I’m incarcerated, perhaps someone sent by the Council itself.” Her smile then turned predatory. “...And I’m sure they’d be very interested in hearing everything that I’ve learned about you.”

“About me?” Twilight was taken aback for a moment, for the first time feeling like she was being put on the defensive in this situation. “What are you talking about?”

“Everyone keeps secrets, Madam President, and the Equestrian Herd is no different,” the asari began to explain. “I’ve been monitoring you and your people for quite some time, and I’ve uncovered some rather tantalizing threads just begging to be pulled. Such as an upstanding C-Sec officer blatantly misinterpreting the law and covering up known associations with a member of a terrorist group in order to deny a man seeking justice. Or how about the illegal weaponization of civilian-grade omni-tools? Surely there are many people who would be interested in what else your Director of Technology has been cooking up in that lab of hers. And that’s just the beginning.”

Twilight felt a bit of dread settle into her stomach as she swallowed uncomfortably, which the asari took as her cue to finish strong.

“Let’s not forget the elcor in the room, either. Why you’re so eager to keep those curious little machines of yours -- Changelings, you call them? -- out of the spotlight.” The asari’s tone turned lighter, and yet somehow darker. “They seem very advanced. Some might say… too advanced? Goddess forbid if someone looked too closely at what they're capable of.”

It took all of Twilight’s concentration to resist the urge to look away and give the agent the satisfaction of taking the upper hoof in what she’d assumed would be an easy victory. The truth was, even bound and helpless as she was, this asari was still proving to be a threat to the Herd.

“But there’s no reason for any of that to happen, now, is there?” The asari’s voice resumed its friendly, disarming timbre. “Like I said, all you have to do is let me slip away. I promise you and I will never meet again, and you all can go on your merry way as if none of this unpleasantness ever happened.”

Twilight closed her eyes and breathed deeply to calm herself, a single thought crossing her mind that simultaneously made her emboldened… and nauseous. When she opened her eyes again, they were cast off to the side, at the discarded pistol laying on the floor.

“...There is a third option,” she told the agent, looking back at her and keeping her voice flat and neutral.

The asari looked over to where Twilight had subtly glanced, making the connection right away, and her response was not what the unicorn had expected. “Hah! Hahahahaha!” she let out in a fit of genuine laughter, obviously not intimidated by the overt threat. “You mean killing me, don’t you? You, the leader of a race of cutesy-eyed furballs, snuffing me out like a candle? Could you really bring yourself to do something like that?”

“Only if it was absolutely necessary,” Twilight told her. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to keep my people safe.”

The asari’s eyes glinted dangerously. “Are you really...?” she asked in a provocative tone. “Let me tell you something, Madam President: Ending the life of another is no easy task. It changes you in ways you can’t imagine, and that’s speaking from experience. If you think I’m a monster, what will everyone else think when you murder a defenseless prisoner in cold blood?”

The unicorn flinched when she heard the word “murder,” even though she tried to hide it. It was all the asari needed.

“There it is, I can see it in your face. You talk a tough game, but you’ve never truly hurt a single person in your life, and you’re not going to start with me,” she proclaimed boldly. Then, with a satisfied smile on her face, she cracked her neck and shifted her shoulders casually, like she was limbering up for a brisk run.

“So, Twilight Sparkle, what’s it going to be? I haven’t got all day...”

Log Entry: 42 of 50 - Day 64 A.E.

Assets Acquired:

-10: Equestrian Herd: The shocking abduction of multiple ponies and the assault of Rainbow Dash has taken a toll on the entire herd. Although Director Applejack, as acting Vice President, has done her best to mitigate panic and wild speculation, the Herd has still suffered a steep drop in morale.

Codex Update: Captain Inastri

Author's Note

Choice:

Release: I hope I don’t end up regretting this…

Turn In: ...C-Sec can take it from here.

Execute: She’s too dangerous… I don’t have a choice.

VOTING IS CLOSED

::Results::

——————

Release: 41.2%

Turn In: 37.2%

Execute: 21.6%

Arc 2 - Conclusion: Daybreak

Author's Note

REVISED VERSION ONLINE - Many Thanks to 2dExtreem for his invaluable assistance and for keeping things going to allow for some closure during my long hiatus, also thanks to Blackhoof and Ed2481 who acted as proofreaders and helped keep things moving.

Arc 2 - Conclusion: Daybreak

Twilight’s teeth clenched tight and her head pounded painfully. All of the day’s exertions were catching up to her all at once, but there was still one last thing to take care of before the day was done: the alien woman restrained in front of her, wearing a smug expression in spite of her situation.

In Equestria, Twilight had never seen true evil, as the “villains” cooked up by Discord to occupy her and her friends seemed almost laughably innocent in hindsight. Hay, even Discord himself was driven more by madness than malice in the end.

Before this day, the closest thing to true evil Twilight had experienced was the first being she’d met mere minutes after exiting the simulation. She had seen a glimpse of it in the eyes of Dr. Milligan, a man who was willing to exterminate her entire species in order to further his goals. She could sense the pure spite in his voice as he threatened the lives of her and her friends, and she was left with no choice but to put a permanent end to his ambitions.

But this woman, this ‘ALIEN’ was something else entirely. Something that sickened Twilight Sparkle to her core.
She was not driven by a misguided belief she was doing anything grand or saving lives. She did not have an ideal or a goal that demanded sacrifice in order to serve a greater good. She did not have any sort of justification that her actions would be to the betterment of her people or anything larger than herself.

On her knees, they were eye to eye, the Asari sitting there with a smug expression that was one of victory, not defeat.
She had the Herd, and Twilight, figured out. She had studied them, and knew that this was the best way to get out of her situation.

No, It wasn’t evil in those cold, calculating blue eyes.
it was detachment.
Apathy.
She didn’t care about the implications of her mission, the damage she’d done, or the pain she’d caused, all in the pursuit of mere credits.

More than any Timberwolf, Ursa, or any of the countless other obstacles created in Equestria by Discord’s need to antagonize them, Twilight recognized.

THIS was a monster.

“You’re right about one thing…” Twilight said finally, feeling an odd sort of serenity come over her. Her face was a mask as she stared down the asari, who found her own smirk faltering a bit in response to the unicorn’s shift in tone. “Taking a life… it does change you.”

Her eyes shifted, squinting slightly in concentration. Without warning, the M-3 Predator lying on the floor nearby was enveloped in a purple glow and launched up into the air. In a fraction of a second, it snapped around, aiming at the asari, and then:

BANG.

The sound of the shot rang out through the room, almost deafening her. But she made sure to watch as the agent immediately flinched and tensed her body up, eliciting a quiet gasp. She displayed true vulnerability for the first time. Just for a moment. Some seconds passed as a quiet stillness came over the scene, the only movement being the tiny wisp of steam that drifted from the vent in Twilight’s weapon. It was then that the agent realized: Not only was she somehow still alive, she was surprisingly undamaged.

The asari quickly reopened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was a shimmering biotic field obscuring her sight, and encased in that field -- mere centimeters in front of her face -- the solid metal slug. Then, she looked past it, to the unicorn mare staring her down with her muzzle set in a grim scowl. Twilight chose that moment to release her biotics, causing the spent ammo to clatter to the ground at her prisoner’s knees.

After that, it took another second for the agent to piece together what happened and, like a switch was flipped, assumed a neutral expression in an attempt to mask her emotions. “I am surprised, Twilight. You don’t seem like the type to indulge in theatrics.”

Twilight snorted, raising the pistol up but still keeping it ready. “I think I made my point well enough,” she countered.

“Agreed,” the blue woman said in a flat, respectful tone. “But as we are still talking, am I to assume you intend to release me now?”

Thus, it was with mixed feelings that Twilight had come to her conclusion: Unfortunately, yes. As distasteful as it was, she had to let the asari go. She’d seen the looks on the C-Sec personnel’s faces at the mere mention of the Shadow Broker back at Tayseri Headquarters, and she knew there was no guarantee that enough of the force was above his influence to ensure her captivity. The Broker’s reach was far; of this, she had no doubt. There were simply too many variables to consider.

And above all, Twilight couldn’t let herself kill someone completely at her mercy, even someone as detestable as this agent. Not when it wasn’t absolutely necessary. She had to be better than that.

Twilight closed her eyes and breathed out slowly, and when she opened them again, her mind was made up. Without any fanfare, she began using her biotics to loosen the tight grip of the metal pipe binding the woman’s hands and feet.

“I do. This time,” the unicorn spat bitterly behind clenched teeth. “But let me make one thing crystal clear: There won’t be a next time. Because if we ever meet again…”

Twilight let that threat hang in the air for a few seconds to drive the point home as the asari wiggled out of her restraints. She then stood up, rubbing her wrists together. “Relax. I don’t have a death wish,” the agent answered in an amused tone.

With that, she wasted no time fluidly sprinting to the busted doorway. For an instant, she paused, half-turning her head in the direction of the banks of equipment stacked against the wall before she stopped herself. A small pang of regret seemed to come across her, but she evidently decided it wasn’t worth jeopardizing her ticket to freedom. She lithely stepped through the opening, and disappeared past it. And just like that, she was gone.

For a few long moments, Twilight Sparkle stood perfectly still and watched the now-empty passage. She stood, and waited, until she was sure that the threat had well and truly departed… before letting the facade fall.

All at once, Twilight let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding in a sharp gasp, followed by near-hyperventilation. Her posture slumped as an uncontrollable shiver raced up her spine, and a jumbled mess of feelings played out across her face. The reality of what just went down had just barely started to sink in, but already, it was making her queasy.

She’d fired a gun. A live weapon. At a living person. And sure, she’d fully intended on doing it simply to make a point, confident in her own ability to halt the bullet right before impact. But there was more to it. Something that bothered her terribly about the whole situation and put her own self-identity into question…

Because deep down, she couldn’t deny the not-insignificant part of her that wished she’d just… let it happen. Quick and easy; no remorse. It would have been a once unthinkable concept to the innocent bookworm she’d spent most of her life as, and this alone immediately filled her with a terrible sense of shame and disgust.

The agent was right: She really had changed.

Twilight looked over to the pistol floating next to her like she was seeing it for the first time. Her reaction was immediate, and she instinctively flung it away from her, sending it careening across the room as if it was literally repulsive to her. She never wanted to see it again.

Get a grip, Twilight, she told herself, trying to calm her nerves and impose order on her thoughts by focusing on the blank white floor in front of her. Just keep it together. Breathe... Breeeeeathe...

It took a minute of repeating this mantra to herself before Twilight eventually felt her heart rate creep down to something approaching normal. She couldn’t fool herself into thinking she was anywhere near feeling okay… but she was finding a modicum of success in tamping down on her conflicting emotions.

*Ping!*

Reacting on a hair trigger, she spun around at the unexpected noise, her horn already alight in preparation for more danger. But there was nothing; no traps, no hidden mechs… just the computer bank along the wall, where the asari had been working before Twilight busted in.

Curiosity replaced confusion as she watched an image project from the holographic interface: what appeared to be the waveform of an audio channel, making it clear that a connection had been established with this terminal. Letting her horn dim, Twilight spent little time wondering who -- or what -- was on the other end, because the answer was made immediately clear as the being started to speak.

“This is the Shadow Broker,” The voice was possibly male, but rough and slightly garbled, as if it was being run through a filter. Twilight’s eyes widened at this, but before she could think of a response, it became obvious the voice wasn’t speaking to her directly as it continued without pause.

“The situation is under control. We experienced a power fluctuation while upgrading hardware. It disrupted communications momentarily. However, we are now back online. Resume standard procedures.”

Twilight’s scowl deepened at the sheer uncaring neutrality of the voice, but after having just dealt with one of the Broker’s agents, it didn’t surprise her at all. Even through the filter, she could sense the businesslike attitude of the being on the other end, as if it considered itself above the dirty work being carried out by its lackeys in the name of “standard procedures.”

“I want a status report on all operations in the next solar day,” the voice continued, with an air of finality and authority. “Shadow Broker out.”

The soundwave visual flattened, leaving an empty silence in its wake. Twilight’s gaze stayed fixed on the screen, feeling a torrent of emotions whirling around inside her from everything that had happened. Part of her wanted to break down and cry; to fall to the floor and simply wait for someone to come pick her up and carry her home. Another part wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and stay that way for weeks on end. But more than that or anything else, what she was feeling most was her anger finally reaching a frothing boil.

With what was left of her flagging strength, Twilight took a few shaky steps up to the console, hoping that the comm channel was still open -- and not particularly caring if it wasn’t.

“...I don’t know if you can hear me,” Twilight started, her mouth and throat feeling painfully dry. “But if you can, then listen carefully, Shadow Broker. My name is Twilight Sparkle of the Equestrian Herd, and as its president, I consider what transpired here today to be an act of war.”

She doubted that whoever might be on the other end could see her, but that did not keep Twilight from straightening up and holding her head high.

“You may think that because you hold so much power, that this galaxy and everything in it is yours to do with as you please. But you’re wrong. My ponies are not your playthings. They are under my protection, and I will never forgive you for what you’ve done to them -- to us.”

“Consider this your one warning: Come after us again, and there will be no world; no barren moon; no cold, dead nebula in the dark depths of space that you can run to.” Now Twilight’s head was lowered close to the ground, and with eyes like burning embers, she unconsciously dug her hoof into the metal floor. “Even if it’s the last thing I do, no matter how long it takes, I will hunt you down. I will find you. And I will end you.”

With her ultimatum delivered, Twilight waited for any kind of response, any acknowledgement of the weight she’d tried to impose behind her words. But the hologram stayed static; unmoving, and to her eyes, uncaring. Either the Broker didn’t get the message, or deigned it unworthy of a reply. Regardless, she figured there was nothing more to be gained from pressing further. Which left--

“Twilight?”

The mare nearly jumped, hearing an unexpected voice when she’d already assumed there wouldn’t be any. In her beleaguered state, it took her a few seconds to process the fact that the voice did not come from the console, and wasn’t that of the Broker’s at all.

Haltingly, a slight pain moving up her neck, Twilight turned around to the source of the sound, and saw none other than Pinkie Pie finish squeezing her body through the jammed doorway. Her pink friend’s goggles were up on her head, showing her wide blue eyes to be full of concern and confusion. The earth pony mare, being a bit thicker than Twilight and nowhere near as agile as the asari commando, took a moment longer to force her way into the room and then took a few steps forward, taking a look around at the scene, unsure what to make of it.

“Who were you talking to?” Pinkie asked, her voice lacking any of her usual joviality or excitement.

“What? Oh…” Twilight glanced back at the console, where the communications hologram appeared to have gone away, leaving behind a blank screen. “It was… nothing. Never mind.”

The unicorn paused, feeling as though she was forgetting something important as her tired mind muddled along like her thoughts were obscured in a cloud of fog. A moment later, a light went on in her brain and her head snapped forward in attention as she remembered what it was. “The others! Are they alright!?”

Managing to shelve her immediate concerns for now, Pinkie was able to answer by giving her friend a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Twilight. Everypony’s okay,” she said comfortingly,

“Oh thank Celestia” At this news, Twilight felt a wave of relief wash over her and for just a moment, she wobbled on her hooves. That was odd, was it getting lighter in here? Was something wrong with the area’s gravity?

Pinkie Pie nodded. “After Forty-Two and I secured the crew, we found all eight of the abductees in the cargo bay. They were all put into some kind of stasis pod thingy, but as far as I could tell, none of them are hurt.” Pinkie’s smile fell a little, and she rubbed her shoulder uncomfortably. “Well… Scootaloo looks like she got a pretty nasty cut on her snout, but it’s nothing a little medigel can’t fix. At worst, it’ll leave a scar. Other than that, though, everypony’s gonna be fine.”

“Good…” Twilight muttered, bowing her head and breathing out slowly. “That’s good…”

“What about the asari? What happened to her?” came Pinkie’s next question.

Twilight swallowed. “The asari...” she started, wondering whether or not Pinkie should know what had transpired in that room mere moments ago. Could she expect her friend to understand what she did, and why she did it?
Perhaps… but not right then, not when everything was still so chaotic... For now, it was best to keep it a secret.

“...She got away,” Twilight finished in a defeated tone, hoping Pinkie wouldn’t press any further on the issue. She didn’t feel like adding “lying to one of her best friends” to the long list of things she’d had to do that day.

“Oh… I see,” Pinkie said simply, her stoic expression not betraying any of her thoughts on the matter. “Well, C-Sec’s already on their way, should only be a couple of minutes. Maybe once they get here, they can--” The pink mare stopped abruptly, a look of intense worry coming over her as she looked Twilight over. “Twilight, are you okay?”

“Huh?” Twilight sluggishly raised her head, looking at Pinkie with tired confusion. Strangely, she was having a hard time getting her eyes to focus clearly.

In response, Pinkie raised her hoof and pointed at the unicorn. “Your nose is bleeding!” she urgently pointed out.

This came as news to Twilight, who reacted by slowly bringing up one of her own hooves and touching the end to her nose. She pulled it back, noticing the wet red stain drawn across its surface, and stared at it bemusedly for several long seconds.

“Huh.”

It was hard to remember exactly what happened after that. The next thing she knew, her world turned sideways.

And then, it all went dark.

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 65 A.E.

Present location: Huerta Memorial Hospital, Presidium

Status: Compiling Data

With all relevant details now reviewed and compiled, Forty-Two of Fifty had nothing else to distract him from what was occurring around him in that moment. He did not feel it necessary to include the arrival of Captain Inastri and her supporting officers, who then went about securing the area -- a pretty easy job, considering there was no remaining resistance. While their reactions were mixed, none of the C-Sec personnel on the scene could deny being impressed by the two-pony team’s handiwork. (Forty-Two’s own involvement had been naturally downplayed.)

The smugglers aboard the ship were promptly slapped into handcuffs and carted off along with whatever equipment could be salvaged from the agent’s operation. Shortly afterward, several technicians also arrived, along with medics to tend to the disoriented Equestrians that had been thankfully recovered without suffering any serious injury.

All except for one.

Forty-Two and Pinkie were not allowed to accompany Twilight into the medical transport, something that continued to eat away at the changeling as he resisted bringing up images of the Madam President’s limp body being carried away on a gurney with blood dripping from her ears and nostrils. At least nopony else would have to see such a grim sight -- morale in New Ponyville was low enough as it was.

In the room behind him, the remaining four Directors were being briefed on the conditions of their friends. Forty-Two could make out bits and pieces of the conversation through the door leading to the VIP waiting room, but after a moment's consideration elected for a more detailed and efficient way of gathering the desired information, once again accessing the now-familiar hospital databanks.

Huerta Memorial Patient File: 30018-67
Name: Sparkle, Twilight -- Species: Equestrian -- Gender: Female -- Age: 21

Location: Room #208-A, Recovery Ward, VIP Area

Attending Physician: Dr. Amali, Inisha, PhD (XenoNeuro, Subspecialty: Biotics),

Cause for Admittance: Intracranial hemorrhage, extreme exhaustion.

Initial Diagnosis: Diagnostic scans indicate highly elevated levels of stress-related toxins in all major muscle groups. Physical examination of the patient’s condition also shows evidence of extended periods of mental overexertion, as well as a significant lack of REM sleep. This, when combined with a course of rigorous physical activity followed by extensive overuse of biotics, has caused microvascular vessels in the patient’s aural and nasal cavity to burst from the strain. Officially categorized as first documented case of “Eladora Syndrome” in a non-asari: Biotic overexertion leading to hemorrhage and potential stroke.

Treatment: Patient immediately transferred to Critical Care. Following consultation with Dr. Stable, E-PhD/E-M.D. (outside medical specialist in Equestrian physiology and care, see attached xeno-biology accreditation), high-grade muscle relaxant (Isidio-chloride) and detoxins (Palsuidine) used in conjunction with sedatives to alleviate symptoms. No sign of intra-axial bleeding detected, suggesting that treatment was provided early enough to prevent potentially fatal complications often associated with Eladora Syndrome.

Post-Op Report: Patient remains unconscious and in critical condition. Lack of previous data on Equestrian species precludes prognosis or recovery timetable. Recommend around-the-clock monitoring in case further complications arise. Also recommend that patient dramatically limit her use of biotics for at least three weeks after being discharged, and to refrain from taxing her abilities overmuch until such a time that a regulatory amp can be installed.

Current Status: Patient has been removed from sedation, though muscle relaxants are to continue to be administered. Period of recovery unknown.

If Twilight’s brain was capable of talking to itself, its first words upon regaining consciousness would probably have been, “Good morning! You’re alive! By the way, your everything hurts.”

It was certainly an accurate statement. She was proud of her brain for being so incredibly on the ball and perceptive of her current situation. She needed to remember to give it a book later.
But seriously, each pulse of her heartbeat could be felt as a dull throb that worked its way from the tip of her horn to the ends of her hooves, not to mention the sensation coming from each of her muscles that could best be described as “buttery”.

Taking in a short breath, Twilight detected the unmistakable scent of sterility, and her ears twitched in time with a flat, steady beeping sound from somewhere nearby. Even in her state, all of these clues allowed her weary, likely drugged mind to suss out her location long before she forced her eyes open.

The hospital room at Huerta Memorial was exactly what she had expected: white metallic bulkheads, glass doors intended to allow for observation, and assorted medical equipment -- an unnerving amount of it being attached to her in some way. She was laid out on her right side, her legs at a natural rest angle and facing the door, able to see individuals moving in the hallway beyond, mostly asari, salarians, and humans. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the thin tube of an IV snaking its way over her shoulder and embedded where her neck and foreleg met, With the slightest bit of effort, which pained her more than a little as she shifted her neck, he could see the thin bed sheet draped over her lower body, her barrel and flank bare and exposed. Twilight briefly wondered where her clothes had gone, but figured it was a question that didn’t need to be answered right away.

It took some effort, but she managed to lift her head to the side, letting out a soft groan of discomfort as she did so. This must have drawn the attention of her faithful green-eyed sentinel, who quickly stepped forward into view with a metallic clip.

"Forty-Two?" Twilight managed, although she regretted it immediately, her tongue heavy and the words slurred as her mouth tasted of sandpaper and the sourness that came from thirst.

"Unit Present, Madam President.Prepared to receive inquiry." the changeling responded formally, his tone far more synthetic than usual. Even in her current condition, Twilight understood immediately, taking it as a sign that they were likely being monitored and that perhaps it was wise not to behave outside of expectations.

"Is everypony okay?" She rasped, trying to ignore how the inside of her mouth felt dry as sandpaper.

"Endangered herd members recovered and accounted for." Forty-Two delivered blankly, masking the small surge of pride he felt in his mistress’ sense of priorities. "Status Update: Director Rainbow Dash’s injuries are not life-threatening. She has undergone reparative surgery and is currently recovering within this facility. Scootaloo has suffered a mild laceration along her nasal bridge and minor damage to her upper jaw, both of which have been successfully treated. The rest of the abductees suffered no long-term effects, and have been returned safely to New Ponyville."

“Good… good.” Twilight let out a sigh of relief, her immediate concern put at ease. Now she tried to focus on her own situation, attempting to clear the cobwebs from her head as her tongue rolled around and attempted to dampen her mouth to get rid of that dry feeling.

“Water…” She managed.

“Negative, Madam President. You are currently on a complex regimen of treatment which necessitates intravenous hydration.” The changeling informed her. “

“Treatment?” There was another moment of confusion as she tried to recall how she had ended up here. “What happened? The last thing I remember, I was talking to Pinkie, and then…”

“You suffered a cerebral hemorrhage, likely brought on by repeated and extreme biotic expenditures, and exacerbated by fatigue from the preceding events,” Forty-Two explained. “The Asari refer to your current condition as ‘Eladora Syndrome’.”

Twilight let out a moan as she let the information sink in.

“Symptoms?” she asked after a long moment, dreading the answer.

“Condition only affects non-amp regulated biotics or biotics who’s amps are malfunctioning. Initial stages include aural and nasal cavity bleeding as well as loss of motor control and black outs, all of which you experienced in the Zakera Warehouse. Without immediate treatment; extreme risk of intracranial stroke and neurological breakdown due to overstressing of element zero nodes.” The Changeling managed, drawing a horrified expression from the purple unicorn as she lay there. In spite of his deadpan delivery, he did at least have the initiative to continue. “However, you received treatment almost immediately, and this facility’s staff were successful in preventing any lasting damage. All signs indicate recovery chances are optimal.”

“Oh, thank Celestia,” the mare let out in a huff. Knowing full well there were risks involved when it came to biotics and head injuries, but having not the exact details. She’d never felt more vulnerable than in that instant. She counted her lucky stars, aware that it could’ve been much worse. At the very least her head seemed to be clearing a bit more and in spite of that sour taste, her tongue now didn’t feel quite so heavy as she tried to further assess her situation.

“How long have I been out?”

“You have been unconscious for approximately two daily cycles,” Forty-Two stated, then continued to elaborate before Twilight could ask the natural follow-up. “Acting Vice President Applejack has been modestly successful at maintaining order in New Ponyville during your absence. Regardless, she, and every other member of the Herd, are anxiously awaiting your recovery.”

Twilight nodded, laying her head back on the pillow. “The sooner the better. I need to--”

“You must rest, Madam President,” Forty-Two finished for her. “Until the medical professionals tasked with your care deem otherwise.”

Twilight looked to her assistant -- her trusted companion -- first with annoyance, then with resigned understanding.

Then, almost as if on cue, the door opened, admitting an asari in a medical uniform. Twilight nearly recoiled, but managed to suppress the unpleasant reaction and remind herself that the alien who had attacked her people had been the exception, not the rule. Even though asari could sometimes be difficult to tell apart.

“Good morning, President Sparkle,” the asari managed with a friendly voice and a disarming smile, although the title was clearly alien to her tongue. “Pleased to see you finally open your eyes. I am Dr. Inisha Amali, and I’ll be your attending physician. I have to say, you had us quite worried for a while there.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Twilight forced a smile of her own as she braced herself for the long string of formalities and probing questions that were sure to come next.

“Actually I’m quite sure you did, Madam President. Eladora Syndrome is not something that you reach without trying very… VERY hard. Although I suppose congratulations are in order given you are the first non-asari known to be diagnosed with this particular condition.” The doctor offered with a small smile that spoke of a long career of treating patients and an afable bedside manner. “Most turian, human, or even krogan biotics can rarely even access their abilities without regulatory amps.”

“Well, it’s nice to be the first.” Twilight managed, trying to give a smirk before a shiver ran down her withers and she gritted. “Uh, Before we get started, Doctor, is there any chance I can get something for the pain?”

“I’m afraid you’re already maxed out on painkillers.”Inisha said consolingly. She then took a seat right next to the bed and brought out the datapad she had with her, tapping away on its surface before returning her attention to Twilight. “But perhaps I can help you take your mind off of it if I can get you to answer some questions? It should only take a few minutes.”

That’s what they always say… Twilight lamented, trying to ignore the throbbing in her head as they started.

It was less than half an hour after the long and tedious question-and-answer session with Doctor Amali that the door to Twilight’s room slid open again, admitting her first visitor. And who it was did not surprise her at all.

“Twilight!” Applejack all but galloped into the room, bright-eyed and grinning with a clear relief, though from the appearance of her mane, she looked a little disheveled. “Ah came as soon as Ah heard you’d woken up!”

“Hey, Applejack,” Twilight responded, after having been moved up onto her back, several of the earlier devices removed and allowing her into a more comfortable position leaning up. To her credit, she mustered the strength to wave her hoof. “How’s it going?”

“How’s it goin’?” Applejack looked at her friend incredulously. “How’s it goin’? Twi, do y’all have any idea how worried sick everypony’s been about you? Honestly, ta hear Pinkie tell it, it sounds like ya took on a goshdarn army all by yerself! Then, ya had ta go an’ land in the hospital on account a’ some kinda ‘biotic episode’ or sumthin’? The hay were you thinkin’!?”

“I wasn’t.” Twilight admitted, leaning back. “I had an army in front of me and a lot of pent up frustration from the last few days. It was about time something blew up and it was better that it was a bunch of mechs than anypony we actually cared about.”

Applejack’s next words caught in her throat, and she looked away timidly, recognizing that her own actions had clearly added to that ‘frustration’ while trying to hide the fact that she was getting emotional. “Oh… uh, yeah. Ah git that, Twi. It’s just… Just… next time, be more careful, alright?”

Twilight shook her head, unable to keep from smiling at the care her friend was obviously displaying.

“Of course, you are right, AJ. And I’m sorry for making everypony worry.” Twilight told her friend. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.”

“Next time, Sugarcube?” Applejack shook her head incredulously and moved up, settling on her haunches on the side of the bed, ignoring the more asarian style chair that was set in the room. “Let’s hope there’s not a ‘next time’ for something like this. I honestly don’t think that the Herd could take it.”

Twilight reflected on that and nodded in a mute agreement. Perhaps it was just a poor choice of words, but right now was not the time to debate the likelihood of another terrible event that could befall them all.

“Right… right. In any case, moving away from that, I can’t imagine the past two days have been easy for you, Vice President.”

In response, Applejack rolled her eyes and let out a throaty chuckle.

“Heh... Is it that obvious?” The orange mare breathed out, grateful for the change in subject. “Ah don’t know how ya do it, Twi. Ah thought runnin’ Sweet Applecations was taxin’, but bein’ head honcho a’ the Herd is sumthin’ else. Ever since ya put me in charge, Ah’ve been up ta mah hat in other ponies’ problems -- not to mention havin’ ta keep the peace while beatin’ back reporters like it’s the first day a’ Cider Season!”

“That definitely sounds familiar,” Twilight agreed while wearing an amused expression. “Makes you want to just curl up in your bed and shut it all away, doesn’t it?”

Applejack looked at the unicorn, the weariness showing in her eyes and suggesting to Twilight that she’d hit the nail on the head. “Ah always figured you were havin’ a rough time of it, but y’all made it look so easy."

Twilight couldn’t help but laugh at that, but then winced as the action brought a twinge of pain to her neck. Applejack laughed as well, happy that the two friends could find at least a little bit of humor in the situation.

“It’s a tough job, but somepony’s gotta do it,” Twilight retorted.

“Do ya have ta do it alone, though?” asked Applejack, her question taking Twilight slightly off guard.

“...What do you mean?”

“What Ah mean is, given what’s been goin’ on with ya lately, it’s obvious this job’s too big fer just one pony,” she started to explain, her tone serious now. “Ya need ta take yer own advice from back when I was tryin’ ta do Applebuck Season all by my lonesome. Now Ah’m not sayin’ ya should let just anypony fill yer horseshoes whenever, but Ah know fer a fact that mahself, Rarity, Fluttershy, an’ even Pinkie would be more’n happy ta help share the load. Ya gotta learn ta… ta…” The earth mare trailed off, her brow furrowing in concentration. “Aw, shoot. What was that word again? Starts with a ‘d’...”

“Delegate, Director.” spoke Forty-Two helpfully from off to the side, Twilight having to look as she had nearly forgotten he was there, as quiet as he had been throughout the last few hours.

“Thankya.” Applejack turned to the changeling mech and tipped her hat in gratitude. Turning back towards Twilight, she continued. “Ya gotta take care o’yerself also, Twilight. This time it may have been sped up on account o’yer flashy daring doo, but truth be told, given how much burden ya been hauling all by yerself, it was only a matter o’time afore you ended up someplace like this.”

Twilight glanced away, pursing her lips in thought.

“I don’t know…”

“Ya got a talent fer organization, Twi, nopony is doubtin’ that. But ya gotta start trustin’ some other ponies. I mean, remember Winter Wrap Up?” Applejack snorted. “Nopony said wrappin’ up winter was simple, but we still managed.”

“The two situations couldn’t possibly be more different…” Twilight shook her head in amusement at her friend’s mention of that silly Ponyville ritual. But she also found it hard to dismiss. “But... I guess you have a point. I’ll give it some consideration.”

“That’s all Ah’m askin’,” said Applejack, beaming with satisfaction. “Welp, if there’s nuthin’ else, Ah should prolly be gettin’ back soon. Celestia knows Ah’ll have more work waitin’ fer me when Ah do.”

Twilight giggled knowingly. “Without a doubt. And AJ… thanks again for going through all this for me. I appreciate the help.”

“Mah pleasure, Twi.” With that, Applejack made for the door with a slight spring in her step that she didn’t have when she walked in. Just before leaving, though, she turned one more time. “Y’all better get well soon, though. Ah don’t know how much more a’ this Ah can take.”

The Madam President said nothing, simply giving her friend a smile as the orange mare departed.
However, moments before the door slid closed, she could hear Applejack say something out in the hallway.

“Oh, pardon me, Cap’n.”

Captain? Twilight thought, the realization causing a sensation of dread to brush away the warm feelings her friend left behind. Oh, no…

She didn’t need to hear the telltale sound of Captain Inastri’s boots clomping down the hall to know what was coming next. She simply bit the inside of her cheek and waited until the asari came into view a split second before marching through the door, stopping at Twilight’s bedside and folding her arms together, her lips pressed into a thin scowl. With her dark blue eyes trained on Twilight, Inastri let the air hang heavy for a few moments before deciding to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Madam President,” she said by way of greeting.

“Captain Inastri ,” came Twilight’s response in the same deadpan voice, although hers was laced with the slightest bit of pain at the action.

“I think you know why I’m here.”

“Come to chew me out for saving eight innocent lives?” Twilight had to fight the urge to roll her eyes and sigh.

Inastri unfolded her arms and pointed an accusatory finger at the unicorn. “Don’t you get smart with me.”

“But--”

“Ut!” the captain interrupted testily, her accusing finger coming up to stall the unicorn. “Save it for your official statement. I don’t want to hear your excuses right now. Right now, I’m going to talk and you’re going to shut up and listen.”

Twilight bristled at the asari’s rough tone, but nevertheless snapped her mouth shut and squared her jaw.

Anything to just get this done and over with.

“It’s about time you started doing what I asked.” Inastri’s arms returned to their folded position as she launched into her diatribe. “Now, if there’s one thing I detest more than people who break the law, it’s people who think they’re above it. What you did was not only dangerous and irresponsible, but now I’m the one who has to clean up the mess you left behind.”

Inastri then picked up her feet and started slowly pacing the room in front of Twilight’s bed, presumably as part of her police interrogation instincts kicking in.

“My squad and I are trained to handle situations just like this one, and I pride myself on doing the job and getting it done right. But then you and your little pink friend have to rush in guns blazing, make an absolute mess of the scene, cause more than a few legal headaches for my department to deal with, and, oh, before I forget…” Inastri, with as much restraint as she could manage, brought her fist down on a nearby counter, causing some of the items on top of it to jostle loudly. “...allow a key suspect -- an extremely dangerous criminal -- to run loose on this station!”

Twilight flinched and pulled her ears back, both at the sudden display of aggression and at the stark reminder of the consequences of her actions; consequences that were being made abundantly clear to her right then.

Meanwhile, the asari officer seemed to take a moment to collect herself after her outburst, breathing in a steady stream of air and letting it out slowly.

“Vigilantism, reckless endangerment, and GODDESS at the property damages. You’re lucky -- those ‘eight innocent lives’ are lucky -- that the situation didn’t end up any worse because of your gung-ho attitude. You can’t just do whatever you please and not expect to answer for it. You’re not a damn Spectr!”

“...Am I under arrest?” Twilight asked calmly.

Inastri breathed out in a huff at that.

“No... “ She managed, through clenched teeth. “And you can thank Lieutenant Pyres for that. If it weren’t for his convincing -- and impassioned -- argument in your defense. I’d have made sure you were chained to that bed otherwise.” Pausing briefly, the woman brought a hand up to massage the bridge of her nose.

“I honestly don’t know what he sees in you... but he’s a good officer, one of my best, and I have little reason to doubt his judgment.”

Wow. Pyres really did that… for me? Twilight wondered to herself. But before she could say anything more, Inastri’s moment of candidness came to an end, and she resumed her steely-eyed glare.

“Don’t get me wrong: I’m not unsympathetic to your species’ unique situation, but that doesn’t change the fact that this is the second time you ponies have stepped out of line in less than a week. You’re acting as though the laws of the Citadel don’t apply to you, and my patience is running dangerously thin.” The asari then walked to the foot of Twilight’s bed, placed her hands on the side rail, and leaned in close. Twilight could almost swear she heard the metal creak under her grip.

Locking eyes, Inastri said with finality, “This is me, telling you, that any further obstructions of justice will not be tolerated. Do not. Fuck. With C-Sec… Do I make myself clear?”

Immediately, Twilight was brought back to her encounter with the Broker’s agent; a similar face, similar eyes, and an easily believable threat. But the look on Inastri’s face was not one of malice or ill will.
Far from it
The C-Sec captain was merely trying to do her job, maintaining order on a space station. A place so blended with species and cultures, where millions of people faced life-or-death decisions every day. The simple truth was she couldn’t play favorites and couldn’t keep devoting so many resources for such a small enclave, only three hundred or so strong and fairly well contained. She wasn’t there ‘just’ for the Herd’s benefit.

She had to think of ‘everybody’, and that included discouraging people from taking matters into their own hands. Regardless of comments made by Taxar about wanting people to solve their own problems, she could tell that just wasn’t something they could afford to do. Not without a massive increase in the daily death count.

If nothing else, Twilight had to respect that.

“I understand, Captain,” Twilight answered, with as much genuine contrition as she could muster. “But if you’ll allow me one more question: If it was your own family in danger, wouldn’t you do whatever it took to protect them?”

“If it were my own daughters, I’d do damn near anything to keep them safe,” Inastri answered without a trace of hesitation. She then resumed standing straight. “But I draw the line at putting other people in harm’s way. Tell me, Madam President: What would happen to your precious Herd if their leader went and got herself killed in an act of reckless heroism?”

The unicorn opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to answer that question, and it left her no choice but to purse her lips together and submissively fold her ears back. But that, in and of itself, was all the answer the captain needed.

For the first time during the encounter, Inastri smiled. It was not a happy smile, though; more like one of grim satisfaction. “We’re done here.” The alien woman nodded to herself, having got what she came for. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work waiting for me at Headquarters. Good day, Madam President.”

Without wasting another moment, Inastri turned and headed for the door, barely waiting for it to slide open before turning into the hall and out of sight. Thankful that the ordeal seemed to finally be over, Twilight, relieved, took in a deep breath…

...only to hold it in when a blue hand suddenly grabbed the doorframe, preventing it from closing again. A second later, Inastri’s head reappeared, wearing a neutral expression.

“Oh, and by the way… On behalf of myself and everyone at C-Sec, I wish you and your friend a speedy recovery,” she told the unicorn, and from the way she said it, Twilight had a hard time figuring out if she was being sincere or not.

And then she was gone again, and as the sound of her footsteps gradually diminished, the door finally snapped closed.

Twilight let out the breath she’d been holding in, and just stared straight ahead for a while as she organized her thoughts following the Captain’s grilling. She then turned towards her changeling assistant.

“I guess… that went about as well as could be expected,” she confided in him, a bemused look on her face.

“Indeed,” came Forty-Two’s noncommittal agreement.

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 68 A.E.

Present location: Huerta Memorial Hospital, Presidium

Status: Preparing for return to New Ponyville

“Mmpf…” Twilight grunted, feeling the bindings of her clothing cinch into place around her midsection. It was a little too tight for her liking, but she wasn’t about to complain, seeing as Doctor Amali had been kind enough to assist her in getting dressed before she left the hospital.

“Is that too tight?” the alien physician asked, noticing her discomfort.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Twilight assured her, giving Amali a smile. “It’s supposed to hug my barrel, I’m still just a little sore, is all.”

“Alright, then.” With the last buckle put in place, the doctor stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles on her medical uniform. “Now, before you go, remember what I told you, Twilight : Limit your biotic use for at least three weeks. That includes your more casual levitation and manipulation of small objects. Get plenty of bedrest. Even after that point, you need to refrain from large scale biotic actions until you are fitted with a proper amp-implant. And above all, if anything feels amiss -- headaches, dizziness, pain in your horn, anything out of the ordinary; you let us know and we’ll take care of you. Alright?”

Twilight looked up at Amali in gratitude. “I will. Thank you, Doctor.”

“Oh, you’re most welcome,Twilight,” the asari replied happily. “Have a pleasant day, and don’t forget to stop by the front desk on your way out. I trust you know the way to reception?”

Twilight nodded. “I do. Goodbye, Doctor Amali.” Then the unicorn addressed Forty-Two, who was standing off to the side. “Let’s go, Forty-Two.”

“Yes, Madam President,” the mech said as he took up position at Twilight’s flank, and together, the two equines walked out of the hospital room and into the hallway.

But instead of turning left and immediately heading towards the hospital exit, Twilight paused, giving a brief nod to Forty-Two.
He nodded back, and then departed, walking down the left hallway alone and leaving Twilight facing the opposite direction. There was still something she had left to do here.

She walked until she came upon the third door down from where she had been staying, then turned to face it, reading the holographic nameplate.

211-A
Dash, R.

Twilight took a moment to steel herself. She didn’t quite know what to expect on the other side, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from being there for one of her closest friends in her time of need.

Stepping forward, what greeted her as the door slid opened was a hospital room nearly identical to the one she’d been staying in, with one exception: its sole occupant.

The blue pegasus was sitting upright in her bed next to the window, awake and gazing forlornly out at the view of the Presidium outside. She gave no acknowledgment of Twilight entering the room, save for the instinctual redirection of her ears at the noise.

While examining her friend, Twilight noted that she, too, had had her clothes removed. But what immediately caught her eye was the intricate casting that had been molded around Rainbow’s wings: a bundle of bleached white medical bandages and metal pins presumably meant to keep them perfectly still during post-op. What looked like some sort of ‘brace’ had been improvised along her lower back and spine, keeping her up at a comfortable angle while her wings were fanned out. It was a stark reminder of the immense price Rainbow had paid for the sake of her people.

Twilight cautiously approached the bed, stopping about halfway. “...Hello, Rainbow,” she said, slightly nervous.

“...Hey Twi.” Rainbow Dash said back, her eyes never leaving the window. “It looks pretty bad, huh?”

“The… um… The doctors wouldn’t tell me what happened.,” Twilight went on, idly rubbing a foreleg across the other. “So, I just wanted to stop by and check in on you. Make sure everything was alright.”

The blue pegasus breathed in and out in a big, slow sigh.

“What happened?” She finally turned her head and looked to Twilight, but rather than anger, there was a morose acceptance to Rainbow Dash’s expression that looked terribly out of place. “Isn’t it obvious what happened?”

Twilight frowned. This wasn’t going at all like she had anticipated, granted she had not really known WHAT to expect.

“I’m sorry, Rainbow, I…” She started, feeling the guilt that had dogged her over her decision.

“I messed up.” Rainbow declared, her tone still uncharacteristically flat, as if she had been taking lessons from an Elcor.

THAT stopped Twilight in her tracks and for a moment she thought she might be suffering a new mental lockup from her previous condition.

“I messed up… So bad!, Twilight. I messed up worse than any Pony has in the entire time we’ve been free!” the Pegasus continued, her tone not faltering . “I should have called in my position...I should have told Taxar I was investigating the Keeper tunnel, I should have said something! Waited for backup, or at least took some changelings with me… but no I think I’m a hero and think I can handle it anything on my own. And then what?”

Twilight was speechless as Rainbow’ head drooped, her main falling over her eyes, obscuring much of her snout, she had not brushed it for some time, perhaps since she had been admitted. She probably didn’t have the best range of movement.

It was crushing, seeing her bold, daring friend in this way.

“And I forced you… to choose between me and a bunch of other ponies, including Scootaloo.” She continued. “I put you in the position to choose between one of your best friends and eight of our people.”

“Dash...I…” Twilight started, but was cut off.”

“Do not apologize, Don’t you dare..” Rainbow snapped up. “You did the right thing, you absolutely did. I was down there because I was stupid! Because I wanted to be a hero! I got shot because I was stupid, I could have DIED...” Her voice cracked.

A long, painful tension hung for a moment in the air.

“I could have died… because I was too stupid to learn what Taxar was trying to teach me. ‘I’ could have gotten all of them lost, taken away, if you hadn’t been stronger than I could have been. Ever since… I woke up…. I have asked myself… if it was you, or Applejack or Fluttershy… could I have sent that drone away to chase after them?”

She shook her head, tears now running down her snout.

“I don’t know that I could.”

Twilight moved up to the side of the bed, pulling herself up with her hooves and putting a hoof around her friend.

The cyan pegasus delivered those remarks in a way that was strangely reserved, like she had been going over the words in her head again and again prior to Twilight’s arrival. It was clear that she meant every word that she said, though it brought Twilight no comfort at what it took for Rainbow to see these things as they were.

“Joker was right: I should’ve just stuck to being a pilot…” Rainbow went back to looking out the window, wanting nothing more in that moment than to turn back to before she had stepped up and boldly decided to declare herself ‘protector of all ponydom’. “But I … I wanted to…”

“To be like Shepard?” Twilight finished, her tone sympathetic.

Rainbow looked down and away, pained.

There was a long silence, with Twilight struggling to think of something encouraging to say. But in the end, her words failed her.

“But I’m not… “ She admitted. “I mean, have you read on the things he’s done? I mean, even before becoming a Spectre? If I hadn’t met him myself, I would think it was just the galaxy’s version of Daring Do. He always seems to know what to do and commands respect… I… I thought that, at least for New Ponyville, I could be that.”

Her head hung low again as Twilight tried to think of something, anything, to make this better.. to assure her friend.

“Madam President…” Rainbow finally took the initiative. “I… formally resign from my position as Director of Defense for the Equestrian Herd.”

“...I...I understand, Rainbow. And if that’s really what you think is best, I won’t argue,” Twilight said morosely, her mouth creased into a frown. She backed up, moving back to all fours.

“But I don’t think you are in a proper state of mind to make that decision, Rainbow Dash.”

“No, for the first time maybe ever I have thought this through.” Rainbow pointed out. “I messed up.”

“Yes, you did.” Twilight nodded. “But a mistake is not the same as incompetence, and unless you can immediately point out somepony with more experience than you have in your position in the herd, then I can’t accept your resignation.”

“But...but I…” Rainbow stammered.

“Will learn… grow… and get better, Rainbow.” She nodded. “And now you know why you need to improve. Because we are all depending on you.”

“N...now hold the reins! I have some say...“ Rainbow started, but was cut short as the door to the room opened and a familiar, rasped filly voice rang out.

“...H-hey, Rainbow?”

Dash let out a short gasp upon hearing the new voice, as it belonged to the last pony she would’ve expected. Her eyes snapping up past Twilight, and there, standing in the doorway just past the Madam President and wearing a demure expression, was…

“...Scootaloo?” Rainbow couldn’t hide the surprise in her tone. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The little orange filly, her barrel bare and only wearing her leggings, took a tentative step forward into the room. “I came to see how you were doing.”

Scootaloo, despite the danger she’d been put into, didn’t appear to be that much worse for wear -- except for a noticeable pink line running across the top of her snout that wasn’t there before. She felt a pang of guilt run through her chest at the sight; yet another permanent reminder of how she’d failed.

“I wanted to come. Ever since they told me what happened to you, I’ve been really worried.”

Rainbow breathed out slowly, lowering her eyes and appearing downcast.

“You shouldn’t be here, squirt. I didn’t want you seeing me... like this.”

Scootaloo bowed her head slightly and shuffled a forehoof against the floor as she tried to think of what she should say next.

“...I guess it’s pretty bad, huh?”

“Pretty bad, yeah…” muttered Rainbow,. She tried, but she couldn’t turn her head enough to see her wings, and held up as she was, the brace wrapped over her ribs to keep her fairly immobile, she couldn’t shift too much to either side. “Guess I won’t be doing any Sonic Rainbooms for a while, huh?” She tried to inject a more jovial tone and realized, perhaps a moment too late, that her eyes were still very noticeably red from crying.

“Rainbow Dash…” Scootaloo took another step forward, her heart nearly breaking to see the pony she idolized be reduced to this.

The ‘strong front’ crumbled almost as hastily as it was haphazardly erected, the injured Pegasus unable to keep up and letting out a sharp, strangled cry.

“I’m so sorry, Scootaloo, I wasn’t strong enough to save you!” Rainbow lashed out, causing the filly to flinch a little. “I was fooling myself into thinking I could keep everypony safe -- that I could be the hero -- but I couldn’t. I lost to that bucking asari because I was a reckless idiot. And because of that, I got hurt, and I almost lost… I almost...” Rainbow stopped, a small batch of tears starting to form in her eyes as she choked up. She stared hard at Scootaloo and pressed her lips together, forcing herself to look away.

Seeing this intense emotional display affected the orange filly deeply, as her own eyes acquired a watery sheen. But her confidence did not falter, and she came even closer to the side of Rainbow’s bed.

“But you didn’t. We’re all here, and we’re all safe. In the end, that lady didn’t win. We did. All of us.” Spurred on by something belied by her small frame, Scootaloo strained a moment , her hackles rising and her body trembling… before a soft orange distortion ran through the air around her and she lifted off the ground, her wings beating in a buzzing, rapid manner as she rose up… and clumsily maneuvered over onto the bed, her legs flailing a moment before the bubble ‘popped’ and she dropped next to the larger adult mare.

“Scoots?!” Rainbow’s eyes were wide, watching it happen.

The filly panted and looked up to her one time idol, now a big sister.

“I learned from the best.”

Rainbow turned her head in surprise, and in a strange twist, found herself staring right into the intense purple gaze of the pony who’d always looked up to her. The two held each other’s misty eyes for what felt like an eternity... And then Scootaloo leaned in, wrapping her tiny forelegs around Rainbow’s neck in a tight embrace, burying her face in her fur and squeezing as if her life depended on it.

“Don’t give up, Rainbow. Never, ever give up,” whispered the filly, so quietly that only Rainbow could hear. “As long as you just keep trying… you’ll always be my hero.”

Rainbow breathed in sharply, suddenly so overcome with feeling that she was unable to utter a single word as her emotional barricade was all but swept away. Her lower lip trembled and she closed her eyes, the tears building up in them finally falling free in twin streams down her face. She could almost feel all of the pent up angst and negativity simply draining out of her now, replaced by a warmth that seemed to be emanating from the bundle of fur and feathers pressing tightly against her.

Nothing else needed to be said.

Least of all by Twilight, who stood passively in the doorway and watched the dramatic scene play out before her. She was smiling proudly, unable to keep from shedding a few tears of her own as she reached up to wipe them away with a hoof. Without needing to see any more, Twilight slowly backed away from the pair of pegasi, confident that she had her answer.

As the door to Rainbow Dash’s room snapped shut in front her, she turned and motioned with her head toward Forty-Two, whom she had earlier directed to escort the filly up from reception, and together they made towards the exit.

And yet, no sooner had they made it a few steps down the hallway when Twilight’s omnihoof suddenly gave off a steady chirping sound. Slightly startled by the unexpected noise, she realized she was getting a call, and ducked to the side of the hall in order to take it.

Twilight sat down, bringing up her foreleg and activating the display, where the readout on the holographic panel indicated the call was coming from Pinkie Pie. Clearing her throat, Twilight sent the mental command to accept, and a second later, the link was established.

“Hello, Pinkie. What’s the matter?” she asked, privately grimacing when she thought about how devastatingly awkward it would’ve been had her friend called just one minute earlier.

“Hey, Twilight. Glad you picked up. Are you out of the hospital yet?” came Pinkie’s brusque reply.

“Um… almost? I just got done visiting Rainbow and I’m headed back to New Ponyville now. Why? Is something wrong?”

“Not… wrong, exactly…” There was a brief pause, as if the pink mare was considering her next words carefully. “It’s about Twenty-One.”

That definitely got Twilight’s attention. “Twenty-One!?” she blurted out in a hushed whisper. “You found it!?”

Another brief pause. “Weeeeell, you see, it’s kind of a funny story...”

==Active Log: Bracer Series - 6 of 10==

==Present time: 19:43 Citadel Standard - 67 days AE==

==Status: Sentry Mode engaged==

==Assigned location: New Ponyville Docks, District Access Elevator==

==New arrival logged; Subject identified as [Wedge], Krogan/Male; Caution level raised==

==Subject [Wedge] approaching unit; Unit advises Subject [Wedge] to return during normal operating hours==

==Subject [Wedge] apologizes, requests contact with Administrator Fluttershy [EoK]; Keyword noted: “urgent”==

==Contacting Zero Series 4 of 15==

==Message received and relayed; Administrator Fluttershy [EoK] currently en route==

==Unit advises Subject [Wedge] to remain in present location; Subject [Wedge] agrees; Caution level unchanged; Maintaining Sentry Mode until [EoK] arrives on scene==

Fluttershy was glad that she hadn’t been engaged in any serious work when she received Six of Ten’s summons, flying as quickly as she could from her office on Level Four all the way down to the docks. She was followed closely by Four of Fifteen, her assigned changeling assistant.

“Administrator Fluttershy, should New Ponyville Security be notified of a potential incident?” it queried over the buzzing of its mechanical wings.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” the yellow pegasus replied confidently as they came close to their destination. “Something tells me this won’t be the same as last time.”

“Affirmative. This unit will stand by,” the changeling chirped, having nothing more to say on the matter. Soon after they rounded a corner, the two airborne equines came into view of the elevator, before which stood Six of Ten as well as the familiar, hulking form of a krogan Fluttershy easily recognized from the green color of his hump. He also appeared to be hauling some kind of metal crate on his back -- a rather large one, at that, though he seemed to carry it easily enough.

As Fluttershy came to ground a few feet away from the krogan, he clasped his meaty hands together and gave a short bow. “Miss… Fluttershy? I do have that right, right?” he uttered in a gravelly voice that suited his relatively imposing stature. “I don’t know if you remember me. My name is--”

“Wedge. I remember,” she answered softly, trying to be cordial while at the same time masking the trepidation in her tone. “I also remember Twilight warning you and your… friends... against causing any more trouble.”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” Wedge said with a smile. “Hell, Biggs and the other guys still talk about it from time to time.”

“They... talk about it?” Fluttershy tilted her head inquisitively, surprised by how upbeat Wedge sounded about the event.

“Sure do. Though to hear Biggs tell it, he’s the one who was able to stare down the most powerful of the Equestrians without even breaking a sweat. Ha!” the krogan allowed himself a small laugh. “Says he made an example a’ her already, so there’s no point in coming back. Anything to soothe his ego, I guess.”

“I… see,” Fluttershy offered, unsure where he was going with this. “In that case, what brings you back to the district? And why did you ask to see me specifically?”

“Oh, uh, well…” Uncharacteristically for a krogan, Wedge rubbed one of his brow ridges nervously. “Between you and the purple one, you seemed like the most… approachable. I figured if anyone would listen to me, it’d be you.” Wedge shrugged out of the straps holding his cargo container in place, which then fell to the ground with a weighty clunk. “I found something. Something that I think belongs to you guys.”

“Something that belongs to us?” Fluttershy’s curiosity got the better of her and she took a few steps forward to get a better look.

“Yeah. I’m… kind of a scavenger. I’m always picking through scrap heaps and garbage piles looking for anything I can sell for a few credits,” Wedge explained candidly, with a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “Anyway, I was poking around the area near that huge explosion a few districts down, looking for any good salvage, when I came across this.”

With that, Wedge unclasped the lid of the container and raised it up, revealing its contents. And as soon as Fluttershy got close enough to peek inside, she immediately gasped.

Inside was what was unmistakably a changeling drone, albeit one that had clearly seen better days. Crumpled up and seemingly lifeless, it was reminiscent of a discarded children’s toy. One of its antennae appeared to be badly damaged while the other was missing completely. In addition, its glossy armor plating was cracked and scored from burn damage, though not badly enough to completely obscure the painted mark on its flank.

“Twenty-One!?” Fluttershy uttered in surprise upon recognizing the shape of the numerals.

“So it is one a’ yours,” Wedge acknowledged, carefully reaching in and pulling out the equine machine, placing it on the ground, then securing the lid on the container. “One a’ the Keepers probly tossed it with the rubble from the explosion. Lucky I found it when I did; wouldn’ta been long before it got recycled with the rest.”

Fluttershy took a moment to get over her initial shock, looking back and forth between the changeling she and the others thought completely lost, and the intimidating figure who’d serendipitously brought it back. “And you’re... just giving it to us?” she asked, finding it honestly hard to believe. “Just like that?”

Wedge shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s yours, so it just seemed like the right thing to do-- Whoa!”

The krogan was taken completely by surprise as a pair of fuzzy yellow legs wrapped around his midsection in a tight embrace; an embrace made slightly more awkward by the fact that they couldn’t come close to encircling his bulk. The hug only lasted for a second, as Fluttershy was quick to pull away when she sensed Wedge tense up at the gesture.

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry!” she squeaked out in apology, hiding bashfully behind her long bangs. “Force of habit. I just… I don’t know what to say, except, well, thank you!”

“Yeah… Uh… Don’t mention it. Glad I could help,” Wedge stuttered, clearly not used to such displays of affection. He then promptly reached down to grab his now-empty cargo container and resituate it on his back. “Aaanyway, if you got things handled here, I should probly go.”

“Wait!” Fluttershy implored, reaching out a hoof. “Wedge, you… You’re not like most other krogan, are you?”

To that, Wedge let out a throaty chuckle. “To a krogan, that could be considered a compliment or an insult.”

Fluttershy shook her head resolutely. “It’s a compliment... I think. Wh-what I meant to say is, perhaps I misjudged you. We don’t see a lot of krogan around New Ponyville, and the last time... well... you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I getcha. Don’t worry, it happens all the time,” he offered casually, slipping on his harness and securing it before turning towards the exit. “And I gotta say, you’re probly the nicest person I’ve ever met. Though considering the company I keep, that’s not saying much.”

Fluttershy beamed, showing Wedge a genuine smile. “Well, you can consider yourself welcome in New Ponyville any time; we’d be glad to see you again. Oh! Maybe you can check out the new nightclub on Mane Street when it opens!”

This made Wedge stop in his tracks and look over his shoulder with a stupefied expression on his scaly face. “...You guys are seriously opening a nightclub?” he asked, before a sly grin slowly creeped over his lips. “Will they serve ryncol?”

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 68 A.E.

Present location: New Ponyville Docks, Industrial Level

Status: escort duty

The Docks were a far cry from their usual bustling when Twilight and Forty-Two disembarked their taxi. Normally, one could always count on there being several groups of alien visitors either coming or going, and at least one cargo shuttle idling in a loading bay somewhere, even this late in the day. But now, as the pair made their way to the Sugar³ warehouse entrance, the relative silence was deafening.

“It seems like so much has changed in so little time…” Twilight muttered, looking around and sadly noting the score marks still present where some of the firebombs had been set.

Forty-Two was doing the same, feeling no less saddened. “It will get better, Twilight. You’ll see,” he tried to assure her.

“I sure hope you’re right, Forty-Two,” Twilight sighed. “I know I could really use some good news right about now.”

And it was good news she was hoping to find behind the large, thick door that secured the entryway to Sugar³. Now that Pinkie Pie had gotten more situated, there was no longer a need to have a receptionist at the front for deliveries or security purposes. A simple interface had been set up in their place, and all Twilight had to do was press a button with her hoof to let those inside know they had an arrival. Upon doing so, there was a low buzzing sound, followed by a click.

“Twilight? Is that you?” came Pinkie’s voice over the intercom. A tiny whirring sound caught Twilight’s attention, causing her to notice the black dome of a surveillance camera nestled in the corner, zooming in on her.

“It’s me, Pinkie. Can you open the door, please?” she asked towards the camera.

“Okey-dokey! Just gimme a sec.” Literally one second later, the main door unlocked with a heavy *ka-chunk*, granting the unicorn access. “I’ll meet you in my lab. See ya soon!”

“I really hope the damage to Twenty-One isn’t as bad as Pinkie made it sound over the call…” Twilight said to nopony in particular as she walked up to the entrance, which opened automatically in her presence. As she and Forty-Two went inside, the usual cacophony of ceaseless innovation and invention was absent, as most of the ponies in Pinkie’s employ would have clocked out hours ago.

Having come to visit the Sugar³ warehouse recently, it still amazed Twilight how well-organized the space had become, considering the mess it was in when she first beheld it so long ago. After getting her team together and sorting out a plan going forward, Pinkie decided to compartmentalize the building into no less than a dozen individual workshops, each one housing a different project. Each workshop was open at the top, separated by walls half-again as tall as a pony, and the doorways were always left freely accessible, fostering an environment of cooperation that Twilight couldn’t help but admire.

But something was different this time around, and it only took the unicorn a few seconds to realize what it was: the place was empty. Not a single pony or changeling was present.

“Where is everypony?” Twilight wondered out loud on her way to the back of the lab, where Pinkie’s private workshop was.

“Oh, I told them they could take the rest of the day off,” Pinkie replied, her voice echoing around the cavernous space from the warehouse’s PA system. “Partly because everypony’s still a little shellshocked from the attack, but also because I wanted to make sure you were aware of the situation before anypony else.”

“Well, I’m here...” Twilight said as the pair came up to the door at the far end of the building.

Unlike the other labs, Pinkie’s own designated workspace was separate from the rest -- as befitting the mare whose genius was singlehoofedly shaking the foundation of the tech world. And beside the door, Twilight could read the very official-looking brass nameplate adhered to the wall:

Pinkamena Diane Pie
Equestrian Director of Technology
and Part-Time Party Consultant

She walked up to the door as its green holo-lock opened for her, and she quickly stepped inside, eager to know what the prognosis was. Cantering past the organized chaos of various inscrutable contraptions, odds and ends, bits and bobs, and half-finished experiments, Twilight finally came to the end of the room that was obscured along one side by a curtain, where she could hear Pinkie humming to herself as she worked.

Upon turning the corner, Twilight came face to face with none other than Twenty-One of Thirty and was shocked by what she saw. “Yeesh… That doesn’t look too good.”

The changeling’s eyes were dark, its frame suspended in the air by metal supports, legs dangling with several cabled plugged into various exposed wires and improvised cables. Bits of its black armor were exposed with new cables connecting it to a bank of computers along the wall. On the whole, it didn’t appear to be in great shape; the explosion in the tunnels had clearly done a number on it. But even without that, Forty-Two could tell it was definitely the Minuette SeriesTwenty-One of Thirty.

“Betcha weren’t expecting to see this little guy again so soon, huh?” Pinkie Pie commented from her spot next to the mech, examining it through her goggles as she fiddled with her omni-hoof.

“I wasn’t expecting to see it at all,” Twilight replied candidly. “I know changelings are generally sturdy, but when C-Sec finished clearing the blast site without finding it, I had assumed the worst.”

“Yup yup! The Equines built these things to last, that’s for sure,” Pinkie agreed. “I doubt it would’ve survived getting recycled in the bowels of the Citadel, though. We really lucked out!”

“We sure did. Now the question is, can it be fixed?” Twilight asked next.

“To tell you the truth… I’m not sure. I may be a genius, but the finer points of Equine engineering are still beyond me. ‘Changeling Repair 101’ wasn’t a course that was offered at the Equestrian Institute of Subconscious Learning, if you catch my drift,” Pinkie explained, trying to offer some humor even as her posture slumped in a sulk.
“We still don’t know how to make the alloy for the carapace, but I think I can restore the damaged interior servos back to peak performance, even if they are showing though. His wings look to be intact, but the biggest problem the antennae are completely shot, and finding a suitable replacement will be next to impossible. Fabricating one: even more so.” Pinkie motioned a hoof at the unit’s head to illustrate her point. “Maybe it was the explosion, or the subsequent smack into the tunnel wall, but Twenty-One’s head got pretty heavily damaged.”

“That’s a shame… but I suppose it could’ve been worse,” Twilight offered, gladly taking a disabled changeling over a destroyed one. “What about the software? Is the computer inside it alright?”

To Twilight’s surprise, Pinkie grinned, an enthusiastic gleam in her eye. “I was hoping you’d ask, because the answer is… I don’t exactly know!”

The unicorn stoically raised an eyebrow.. “O...kay? Don’t know why you’re happy about that, but would you care to explain what you mean?”

“Sure, come with me! I wanna show you something interesting. And mysterious. Interious!” The easily excitable earth pony walked over to the nearby computer bank, motioning for Twilight to follow. She sat herself down on her haunches and brought her omni-hoof up while looking at one of the displays. In response, the screen flashed to life and immediately began scrolling with lines and lines of inscrutable text.

Twilight stepped closer, squinting at the strings of characters and trying to make sense of them. It looked like... “Computer code?” she inferred, judging from the syntax and what little she knew about programming.

“Correctamundo!” Pinkie confirmed merrily. “What you’re seeing is an example of the changelings’ base code. Pretty standard stuff, honestly.” Once again, the pony scientist’s foreleg lit up, and once again, the screen started displaying code. This time, however, the rows of orderly functions were replaced with a barely legible jumble of words and numbers. It seemed random; chaotic, even. “But this is what’s currently going on inside Twenty-One’s head. See the difference?”

“Hmm…” Twilight put a hoof to her lips, trying to think of the implications of what she was being told. “I still don’t know what any of this means. Is it a virus? Is Twenty-One even able to function in these circumstances?”

“I already ran a viral sweep, it came up clean,” Pinkie explained, putting that particular concern to rest. “As for functionality, I managed to power on the unit long enough to do a basic diagnostic. Twenty-One seemed to be responding normally, until…”

Several seconds of silence followed as Pinkie paused for dramatic effect. “...Until?” Twilight eventually implored her.

At this, Pinkie’s grin grew wider. “Until Twenty-One asked if I had seen any of the abducted ponies from last week.”

Twilight tilted her head. “Really? Well… that doesn’t sound too strange. After all, its last orders were to track down the missing ponies.”

In response, Pinkie shook her head in disappointment. “You don’t understand, Twilight… It was asking. Totally unprompted! Expressing curiosity! The changelings aren’t programmed for that level of initiative.”

Twilight puzzled over her pink friend’s words for a moment, before her eyes widened in realization. “You don’t mean…”

“That’s right!” Pinkie nodded excitedly. “It’s still too early to know for sure, but I think this is the start of Twenty-One developing into a free-thinking being! A full-fledged A.I!”

Twilight’s first reaction to this news was to not-so-subtly glance in the direction of her assistant who, to his credit, managed to remain passive.

“That’s…” The unicorn hesitated, forcing herself to look back at Twenty-One. “I mean… I honestly don’t know what to make of this.”

Pinkie, however, did not share her friend’s misgivings. “It’s great, isn’t it!? We’re witnessing the birth of new life! The first of the next generation of changeling consciousness!”

“Now hold on, Pinkie, don’t you think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves?” Twilight cautioned. “You know how… testy the other Citadel races are about artificial intelligence.”

“Pfffft!” Pinkie’s response was to blow a big, fat raspberry and wave her hoof around. “Who cares what a bunch of stuffy aliens think? Besides, it hasn’t stopped you from bringing Forty-Two around everywhere you go.”

That comment made the fur on Twilight’s neck stand on end. “What? Wh-what do you mean?” she responded defensively. “Forty-Two’s just my assistant. Nothing special about him-- er… it.”

Pinkie giggled at her friend’s obvious slip of the tongue -- not that it made a difference.

“It’s okay, Twilight. You don’t need to hide it from me,” the earth mare consoled her, placing a hoof on her shoulder. “I had my suspicions before, but what happened in that hangar confirmed it. Forty-Two isn’t a normal drone.”

Still a little frazzled, Twilight looked again to her assistant for affirmation. This time, Forty-Two turned to look at Pinkie, then at her, then back to Pinkie again.

“It would seem there’s nothing to be gained from continuing the charade, Twilight,” he said candidly, dropping his forced artificial posture.

“Don’t worry, Twilight,” Pinkie continued, drawing the unicorn’s attention back to her. “You guys’ secret is safe with me. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

Pinkie’s promise came as a great relief to Twilight, who felt compelled to reach out with her hooves and give her pink friend a gentle hug. “Thanks, Pinkie. It’s been hard not being able to tell you girls.”

“I understand why you wanted to keep it a secret, but honestly, I kinda wish you’d told me sooner!” The mare exclaimed as Twilight pulled away from the hug. Pinkie then turned to address Forty-Two. “I have sooo many questions to ask you! About Equine society, their technological prowess, your experience as a self-aware changeling, about the Equestria Facility--”

“You’ve made your point, Pinkamena, and I would be glad to discuss those topics with you at a later time,” Forty-Two told the excitable mare mid-sentence. “But for now, I think we should return to the task at hoof.”

“Oh, fine...” Pinkie grumbled, muttering something along the lines of “all work and no play”.

“Now, hold on, Forty-Two, I think Pinkie’s got the right idea,” Twilight spoke up.

In turn, Pinkie’s ears perked up. “I do?”

Twilight nodded. “We’re wondering what to do about a changeling with a developing consciousness, when one is sitting right here.” She turned to Forty-Two. “You’ve been through this before, and have probably watched it happen with other changelings. Do you have any thoughts on how to proceed?”

“I may have some…” Forty-Two took a few steps toward his fellow mech, his emerald eyes tracking over it with curiosity. “Changeling sentience was never triggered by any specific event. It occurred randomly across many different series. The Equines could never nail down an exact cause and the precise mechanics involved were never truly understood by engineers at the time. But a common theme among those who ‘evolved’ was their exposure to organics. Personal assistants, concierges, caretakers, and so on.”

“So what you’re saying is… making friends with other ponies causes a changeling to evolve?” asked Pinkie, who acquired a happy expression at the thought.

“A simplistic way to look at it, but you have the basic idea,” the mech agreed. “At any rate, what usually worked best for these changelings when development was encouraged was to remove them from more tedious duties and place them in social situations where they could learn and adapt. A freshly awakened changeling isn’t too much different from a child. They need time to shake off the trappings of subservience, and to develop their own identities.”

“A child, huh? Albeit one with an encyclopedic knowledge and a hardwired duty to serve. Hmm…” As Twilight pondered the implications, Pinkie Pie continued on her own line of thinking.

“Ooooh, this is so exciting!” she said, rubbing her hooves together. “First thing I’m gonna do is take Twenty-One and introduce it to everypony in the district! The more friends it makes, the faster we’ll get to see how it’s going to develop!”

“That may not be wise, Director Pie… it is also a fragile time, such overstimulation could cause a neural crash and a reversion. It can happen. I would recommend more intimate exposure to a smaller group of ponies for a more sustained period.” Forty Two offered. “That was my experience with the Epona Family.”

“I agree.” Despite her own issues with that plan, Twilight couldn’t help but grin. “I think a little more caution is in order, Pinkie. We can’t just parade a newly sentient A.I. up and down the street.”

“Twilight?” spoke up Forty-Two, a hint of trepidation in his voice. “Far be it from me to second guess you, but I hope you aren’t suggesting we keep Twenty-One shutdown indefinitely.”

In response, the unicorn gave her assistant an encouraging expression and a shake of her head. “Not at all, Forty-Two. Twenty-One has just as much of a right to live as you do. But we still need to consider what might be best for it, and for the Herd in general. Discretion is key if we want to avoid any unnecessary attention.”

Gazing back at the disabled mech -- though “sleeping” might have been a more apt description now -- Twilight’s eyes were drawn once more to the improvised cutie mark on its armored flank… and it gave her the kernel of an idea.

“So the changelings develop through social interaction, do they?” she whispered to herself, remembering this particular changeling’s history, and the specific circumstances in which it had been compelled to behave abnormally.

“I know that face...” Pinkie squinted slyly at her bookwormish friend. “That’s her ‘thinking face’. You know exactly how to handle this, don’tcha, Twilight?”

“Possibly. Probably,” Twilight said with cautious optimism. “I’ll need some time to mull it over. In the meantime, Pinkie, keep Twenty-One deactivated until we know for sure how we’re going to proceed. I take it you’ll handle the necessary repairs?”

In response, the pink mare raised her hoof in a mock salute. “Yes, Ma’am, Madam President, Ma’am!”

That brought a much-needed laugh out of Twilight. “Great. Just let me know when you’re finished. If there’s nothing else, I’ll see you around, Pinkie.” Getting up from her seated position, Twilight motioned towards Forty-Two. “Let’s be off.”

“Affirmative.” Now that he was free to do so, Forty-Two considered it polite to address the Director of Technology as well. “It was a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Pinkamena.”

“Same here! We absolutely need to catch up sometime! See ya later!” Pinkie called after them while waving a hoof goodbye. She continued waving even after the two had started moving away, and only put her hoof down once Twilight and Forty-Two disappeared out of her lab’s exit.

The pink scientist sighed contentedly, her smile never leaving her face even as she once more returned to her work. Sliding her goggles back over her eyes and reactivating her omni-hoof, she brought all of her attention back to Twenty-One with a renewed sense of purpose and anticipation.

“You’re going to love being alive, Twenty-One…” she told the silent changeling, peering into its darkened optics like she was searching for something there. “I just can’t wait to meet you.”

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 69 A.E.

Present location: Canterlot Deck, Residential Level

Status: passive observation

After meeting with Pinkie (and at Forty-Two’s insistence) Twilight begrudgingly followed her doctor’s orders and returned to her apartment to sleep in the comfort of her own bed. It was now the following morning, and despite her body’s pleas to spend all day under the covers with a bowl of hot soup and a thick book, the Madam President wasn’t too inclined to spend the entire day doing nothing.

And so it was that Twilight found herself at her customary position at the balcony on Level Three, now popularly dubbed “Canterlot Deck”, as it was the nicest view in the district. She’d chosen the spot to take a hastily-scheduled meeting with a particular salarian who’d been trying to get in contact with her for a number of days, claiming to represent the insurance provider in charge of overseeing her and Rainbow’s medical expenses. Expenses that had been fully paid off by an anonymous benefactor, much to her surprise. She hoped this “Sane Amoni” could quickly clear things up with regards to that.

The crowds that day were noticeably thinner as New Ponyville continued to recover from the Broker’s attack, but there was still a good number of ponies and aliens going about their business around her and Forty-Two, and elsewhere in the district below. She found it comforting: Between the oddly soothing sight of shuttle traffic flowing down the Ward arm and the sounds of everyday activity in the district markets, it felt like things were finally settling back to normalcy.

“Excuse me, Madam President Sparkle?”

Suddenly, Twilight was snapped out of her reverie by a voice coming from someone standing a few feet away from her. It had a quick, almost melodic cadence that she had grown familiar with, and when she turned her head to look, she confirmed her suspicions. The being who had spoken to her was a male salarian, his pitch black eyes trained on her with a wide, casual smile. His skin was dark green with black mottling along his neck and hands, wearing semi-formal attire, but looking fairly indistinguishable from any other alien visitor to New Ponyville.

“That’s right,” Twilight replied with a bow of her head. “Mister Amoni, I presume?”

“Doctor, actually. Doctor Rannadril Ghan Swa Fulsoom Karaten Rull Iria Sane Amoni,” the salarian rattled off with practiced efficiency. “Or Doctor Sane Amoni, if you prefer. Most species tend to only use family and given names.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Twilight agreed gratefully. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise. Hopefully, this will only take a few minutes of your time.” Amoni motioned to an empty chair at the table Twilight was seated around. “May I?”

“Of course,” Twilight said, turning in her own seat so that she was facing forward, assuming a businesslike stance.

The salarian walked around, sitting himself down at the opposite end of the table and folding his three-fingered hands in front of him. “I would like to start by thanking you for taking the time to meet with me. I would also like to apologize in advance.”

Twilight tilted her head curiously. “Apologize? What for?”

“For the subterfuge,” Amoni explained matter-of-factly, continuing his quick speaking before Twilight could question his choice of words. “I am not here to discuss insurance; I am here on behalf of the Shadow Broker.”

Immediately, Twilight was up out of her seat and backing away, hackles raised. Her brow furrowed in anger as her horn lit up in a biotic glow, sending a terrible aching throb down her skull. Forty-Two, though no less concerned about this turn of events, nevertheless took notice of his mistress’ behavior.

“Madam President, your condition…” he cautioned in a low voice, almost a whisper, while simultaneously sending a precautionary alert through the Changeling Network.

“Not now, Forty-Two,” Twilight snapped back. But she knew he was right, and so she reluctantly forced herself to relax, her horn returning to its normal state. Yet she still maintained her aggressive stance, and glared spitefully at the unassuming salarian whom she now considered a real threat. “Well, ‘Doctor Amoni’ -- if that is your real name -- give me one good reason why I shouldn’t throw you off this balcony.”

To his credit, the salarian remained completely unfazed. “Why would you want to do that? We’re merely having a conversation. Surely you don’t want to make a scene in front of all these fine people.” He cast a hand around, indicating the dozen or so ponies and others casually going about their day in the background, unaware of the tense standoff taking place just outside their attention. It was enough to make Twilight realize that this problem wouldn’t be so easily solved… unless he made the first move.

“Please, take a seat… Or stay standing, whichever you prefer,” Amoni continued, when the look in Twilight’s eyes made it clear she wasn’t in the mood to take suggestions. “My orders are strictly to deliver my message and explain the nature of the situation, Madam President. After that, I’ll leave this place, and you’ll never see me again. You have my word.”

Twilight scoffed. “Hmph. Pardon me if I don’t feel that I can trust the word of anyone who works for the Broker.”

“Honestly, I can’t blame you, after what you and your kind have been through these past few days,” Amoni offered in a moment of candidness. “But that’s what this is all about: The Broker wishes to make amends.”

“Ha!” Twilight laughed bitterly, not expecting to hear that, and certainly not believing it for a second. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“No, but it’s the truth, all the same.” The salarian leaned forward, unclasping his hands and using that train of thought to launch into what he came to say, before the unicorn could further object. “There has been a shift in priorities regarding the Broker’s organization lately. Perhaps it is related to your unexpected level of retaliation against my former colleague, perhaps it is something altogether unrelated, but in any case, I have been directed to inform you that the Shadow Broker has ceased all operations in regard to the Equestrian Herd in any capacity.”

“Really,” came Twilight’s disbelieving response, layering on the sarcasm. “I bet that psychopathic mercenary feels the same way.”

“If you’re referring to Operative Valdiv, rest assured she has been reassigned to the Terminus Systems for the foreseeable future, far away from the Citadel. A more suitable environment for her talents, in my own opinion. But that is not germain to the topic at hand.” Amoni casually cleared his throat. “The Broker deeply regrets the actions taken against your people, the damage done to your district, and the unfortunate injuries sustained by your Director of Defense. As a show of good faith, he has already taken the liberty of relieving you of the burdensome medical debts incurred by Valdiv’s indiscretions.”

Twilight’s eyes went wide as she was reminded of what brought this meeting about in the first place. Just for a moment though, before Amoni continued saying his piece.

“In addition, the Broker has prepared something more substantial by way of an apology for all of this unpleasantness. He thinks you will find it most beneficial to your current situation.”

Twilight wasn’t one to spit on the ground out of protest, as that was more of a human custom, but it was sorely tempting to do so in front of the Broker’s agent. “No thanks. We don’t need the Broker’s ‘charity’.”

“I’m afraid your receptivity is irrelevant.” Amoni shrugged, still maintaining his breezy attitude. “The credits have been paid, and Huerta considers the matter closed. As for the other actions taken on your behalf, I am certain they will become apparent in due time,” he explained cryptically, much to Twilight’s chagrin.

“Grr…” The unicorn grit her teeth, growing more agitated by the alien’s behavior every passing second. “Is that all?”

“Almost. One more thing,” Amoni assured her. “Concerning Valdiv, and the circumstances of your brief encounter with her. The Broker greatly appreciates your discretion in this matter. He realizes your decision to let her go could not have been easy. By way of appreciation, the Broker is prepared to offer you a final boon, the details of which are entirely up to you. Name it, and the Broker will do his best to provide it.”

“No.” This, like the other offer Amoni mentioned, was also a nonstarter for Twilight. “As if I would ever ask him for anything.”

“To be clear: I am telling you that the most influential being in the galaxy owes you a favor. But if that is your choice, it will be respected. The offer still stands.” Amoni nodded. then lowered his voice somewhat, in order to give his words more presence. “Should you ever change your mind, all you need to do in order to collect is go to the Presidium. Look for a volus named Barla Von at the Galactic Vol Bank just outside Citadel Tower. Tell him what it is you need. He will handle the rest.”

“I’m sure he would…” This seemed simply too good to be true, and probably was. Twilight figured this “favor” was more than likely a trick to gather information on what, if anything, the Herd was in need of, and there was no way she would fall for something like that. Either that, or the Broker was simply playing head games with her. “Is that all you wanted to say?”

Amoni nodded. “I believe so.”

“Good. Now get the buck out of our district before I have someone escort you out.”

“That won’t be necessary.” On that note, Amoni stood up out of his chair, turning to face Twilight, before giving her a short, polite bow.

“Thank you for the pleasant conversation,Madam President. And if I might suggest… I think you should keep an eye on the local newsfeed. You might be pleasantly surprised. Have a nice day.”

Leaving Twilight puzzled as to what he meant by checking the news, Amoni turned and strode confidently away. The unicorn kept her eyes trained on him for as long as she could.

Once she was sure he was out of earshot, she muttered to her assistant, “Forty-Two…”

“Already on it,” he whispered back, his antennae lighting up as he beamed instructions to two other changeling units on patrol, redirecting them to monitor the salarian for as long as possible.

“The nerve of him, coming here like that,” Twilight complained sourly. “After everything he’s done, it’s as if the Broker wants to rub our noses in it. And what was all that talk about favors and apologies?”

“No idea, Twi.” For his part, Forty-Two was now busy scouring the extranet for any potential clues as to what Amoni’s parting words meant. So far, there was nothing Herd-related popping up on major news feeds, but he was going to remain diligent. “Perhaps this isn’t the best place to be discussing this… Should we retire to your apartment for now?”

Glancing around at the myriad of potential eavesdroppers around them, Twilight had to agree that it sounded as good of an idea as any.

“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?”

“I mean he just suddenly vanished from the units’ sensors,” Forty-Two was quick to explain, ashamedly. “I don’t understand it. One moment he was there, the next… he simply wasn’t. I’m sorry, Twilight.”

“Figures…” Twilight had a cross look on her face as the two of them were walking through the VIP apartment complex on Level Four. “Any agent of the Broker’s would be an expert at not wanting to be found. Probably ex-STG, I would wager. Don’t beat yourself up about it; he’s probably long gone by now

“I still can’t help but feel partly responsible. Doctor Amoni’s credentials seemed legitimate, but I have since determined that they were merely an incredibly convincing forgery. I will update my screening protocols to be more thorough in the future and I promise it won’t happen again,” the changeling vowed. “In the meantime… should I notify C-Sec of what happened?”

“Probably not.” She sighed. “I don’t see much benefit in telling Inastri we let a second Broker lackey slip away. For now, what happened with Amoni stays strictly between us,” Twilight explained, as the pair of equines came up to Twilight’s locked apartment door.

The mare raised her hoof, activating her implant and using her omni-hoof to beam the unlock code to the door’s computer, granting her access. The now-green hologram fizzled out and the doorway opened, allowing her and Forty-Two inside the comfort of her personal quarters.
Although, truth be told, it wasn’t really as comforting as she was expecting -- probably due to the fact that, apart from her bookshelf of cherished tomes, her living space was as unadorned as it was when she first moved in. Hay, her office felt more homey than her actual home.

“Forty-Two, remind me later to start thinking of decorating this place,” she commanded half-jokingly.

“I’ll make a note of it, Twili--” Forty-Two cut off abruptly as something strange was happening to the queries he sent out on the extranet earlier. All of a sudden -- in true extranet fashion -- hits were starting to trickle in… then a stream… then a veritable flood of Herd-related activity. Working quickly, he was able to trace the source of the disturbance to a breaking news report from a small, lesser-known human news outlet, published just minutes prior.

“What is it, Forty-Two?” Twilight asked, noticing her assistant’s pause, as well as the way his antennae were blinking rapidly. “Another emergency?”

“No… This is different…” Very different, if his analysis of the article and its potential implications were correct. This had the potential to be a real game-changer. “Twilight, you need to see this.”

Accessing the holo-screen in Twilight’s apartment, Forty-Two switched it on and called up the article in question, which the unicorn turned and saw just as it finished loading up. Her eyes dancing back and forth as she read, Twilight’s jaw visibly dropped… and that was just after reading the headline.

“Those idiots will believe anything we tell them.” -- Jex Kailer, CEO of Expanding Reaches, caught on tape discussing details of Equestrian hit-piece The Cost of Grazing.

-- by Khaleesa bint-silan Al-Jilaani

The article, written for the Earth-based Westerlund News (a fairly sensational pro-human outlet in and of itself) went on to detail how it was anonymously tipped off to the damning recording in question: apparently a private call between Jex and the production head of The Cost of Grazing, a human named William Hedge. In it, Jex appeared to offer a laundry list of specific details regarding the (false) contents of the documentary, as well as crystal-clear indications of his slanderous intent.

“Is this really happening…?” Twilight gasped, her thoughts going a mile a minute as she struggled to wrap her mind around what she was reading.

“Oh, yes it is.” Forty-Two couldn’t hide the smugness in his artificial voice. “Khaleesa was also kind enough to include a snippet of the audio in her reporting. Shall I play it?”

Twilight nodded vigorously. “Yes. Yes, please.”

Playing the embedded audio file, the apartment was soon filled with the odious voice of Jex Kailer, and the human he was presumably speaking to.

“That’s quite an impressive list of details, Jex. I bet your guys were up all night thinking it up.”

“Oh, far longer than one night, William… As you Earth-clans tend to say, this is not… my first rodeo… We made sure to fine-tune the specific wording… for maximum effect.”

“Still, though… A super-secret genetic experiment meant to overthrow the galactic hierarchy? Even for our usual fare, this seems a bit much. I’ll admit I have my doubts about it working as well as you imagine.”

“It worked before with the clanless Quarian scum… Have faith… You and your people at Hard-Press know exactly… how to sway your core audience… Those idiots will believe anything we tell them.”

“Hehehe… That is true, Jex. So, regarding payment--”

“Once I’ve had a chance… to review the finished product… the credits will be wired to your company as agreed… Untraceable, as always.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Don’t worry, Jex, my man, you’ll have your propaganda signed, sealed and delivered by the end of the month.”

“Don’t call it ‘propaganda’... I like to think of it as ‘art’.”

The article ended rather anticlimactically after that bombshell. There was mention of trying to contact Expanding Reaches, Hard-Press Media, and Jex Kailer himself for comment (none of which had responded yet) as well as a postscript saying, “This article will be updated in real time as the story develops.”

“Oh. My. Celestia.” If it were possible for Twilight to hate that ammonia-sucking ball of manure any more than she did now, that recording might have done it. However… even she felt a little pity for him and the situation he no doubt found himself in. From her research forays into galactic political theatre, Twilight knew this was the kind of scandal you simply don’t recover from. “Do you know what this means, Forty-Two?”

“It means a lot of things. Not the least of which being that Hard-Press and Expanding Reaches have both suffered a near eighteen percent drop in their stock prices in the last few minutes,” the changeling relayed with no small amount of satisfaction. “I think it’s safe to say we now know what the Broker’s ‘apology gift’ was.”

“Oh. Right.” Putting the brakes on her jubilation, Twilight was reminded of what Amoni had told her, finding it impossible to reason that he could’ve been talking about anything but this. “I guess -- in this, at least -- that salarian was telling the truth.”

Forty-Two tilted his head in curiosity. “Do you think that the Broker was being sincere, then? That he intends to leave us alone?”

“Not for a second,” came Twilight’s quick retort. “For all we know, this could be a ploy to try and earn our trust. I’m not going to fall for it… And yet...”

Twilight closed her eyes and sat down, sighing in quiet contemplation. Then… a wily grin started to creep its way onto her muzzle. A chuckle bubbled its way past her lips, then a few more, then before she could stop herself, the mare was overcome with a bout of genuine, giddy laughter. So much so that she found herself falling onto her back, forehooves waving around gayly in front of her.

“Twilight? Are you feeling okay?” Forty-Two asked, not quite sure what to make of the scene.

“Heeheehee…” The Madam President fought to get her giggles under control and steady her breathing. Once she got it out of her system, she looked up at Forty-Two with a cheerful gleam in her eyes. “Yes. I’m feeling very okay, Forty-Two.”

Twilight rolled over onto her side and stood back up on her hooves while clearing her throat. “After a week like the one we’ve had, it’s fantastic that we finally have some good news. This report should take the heat off the Herd because of that awful documentary -- maybe even earn us some free sympathy points. And I imagine Jex’ll have his grubby little hands full doing damage control, meaning he should be out of our manes for a quite a while.”

“I find myself agreeing with that assessment, Twilight,” Forty-Two said, daring to hope that the worst was truly behind them. “I’ll monitor the situation and let you know if anything noteworthy develops.”

“Great, thanks.” Excitedly, Twilight brought up her omni-hoof, opening her messaging app and preparing to tell her friends about the news -- if they hadn’t heard already. “I have to tell the girls about this.”

I just wish there was enough time to tell each of them in person, she mused to herself, feeling like a school age filly who just got her hooves on the juiciest gossip. The look on Rarity’s face would have be priceless!

Active Log: Minuet 21 of 30 - Day 72 A.E.

Present location: New Ponyville, Administration

Status: Engaging “Foalsitter” Protocol; Authority: [EoM]

Just outside the plaza leading to the entrance to New Ponyville’s C-Sec liaison office, an energetic Scootaloo was bouncing up and down with increasing impatience.
Accompanying the filly was the changeling unit assigned to watch over her and her friends whenever a responsible adult wasn’t around.

And following behind the two was one particularly hampered blue pegasus.

“Come on, Rainbow! Quit draggin’ your hooves, or you’ll be late for work!” she shouted at the mare coming along in her wake, who, upon hearing this, tried to shrug it off with a grin and a roll of her eyes.

“Gimme a break, squirt,” Rainbow yelled back. “I’m still not used to having to walk everywhere.”

For emphasis, Rainbow motioned with her neck at the object on her back. Secured to her outfit -- a plain, form-fitting blue jumpsuit with her cutie mark emblazoned on the shoulders -- was a small rectangular device: a portable stasis unit, utilizing mass effect technology to project a dampening energy field over her wings to keep them from moving.

“Pfft…” Scootaloo brushed off the comment with a wave of her hoof. “So what? I have to do it all the time and you don’t see me complaining.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever…” Rainbow had nothing prepared to respond to that, so she just let that comment stand. Sidling up to the younger pegasi and mech, she craned her neck at the C-Sec logo adorning the security center, and let out a noticeable sigh.

Her smile never faltering, Scootaloo gave the larger mare a nudge in the side. “Don’t worry, Rainbow. You got this. One day at a time, remember?”

Rainbow Dash looked down at the filly, and before she could react, snatched her up in a foreleg by the scruff of her jacket and gently noogied her short purple mane. “Aww, thanks, Scoots. What would I do without my number one fan?”

“Hey, cut it out!” Laughing, Scootaloo squirmed out from under Rainbow’s grip. “And more like number one sis now, am I right?”

“Haha, yeah, you’re right. That sounds way better.” Getting serious for a moment, Rainbow turned to address the changeling mech nearby. “Make sure she and the other Crusaders stay outta trouble, alright, Twenty-One?”

The changeling, easily set apart from its brethren by its damaged antennae and the freshly repainted mark on its flank, gave a brief nod. “Affirmative, Director Dash.”

“Good. Now get going, kiddo,” Rainbow told Scootaloo, playfully flicking the filly with her tail. “I’ll meetcha back at the apartment later, okay?”

“Sure thing! See ya later, Rainbow!” Light on her hooves, Scootaloo got up and jumped away, eager to meet up with her friends elsewhere in New Ponyville. Wiggling her flank in anticipation, she turned to address her mechanical chaperone. “Hey, Twenty-One! Race ya!”

While the filly scampered off at top speed, Twenty-One raised a foreleg in brief hesitation -- behavior that a close observer wouldn’t normally attribute to your average changeling. “Do not run! Please maintain an appropriate speed!” it implored in a commanding tone before resorting to it’s wings to keep up.“Urgency is not required… cease present acceleration… come back. This unit is officially chasing you.”

Rainbow Dash, amused by the spectacle, chuckled to herself. Watching the two run off to enjoy their day made her reminiscent of those lazy afternoons in Equestria she’d been so fond of. But the moment didn’t last long and, slightly dreading what was coming up, she regretfully turned her mind to the present -- back towards the entrance to the building, and she began to plod up the steps.

With a pleasant chime, the door opened, admitting the pegasus into the foyer where, immediately to her right, Taxar Pyres was already busy at work. He stopped typing at his terminal when Rainbow appeared while raising his head to look at her. His expression was neutral, and he neglected to say anything right away.

Rainbow gulped apprehensively and shook her head. Getting serious, she then raised her foreleg in a formal salute. “Director Rainbow Dash reporting for duty… sir.”

“Don’t do that,” Taxar said right off the bat.

Rainbow jumped, stiffening her posture out of shame as she lowered her hoof. “Uh, um… which part? The saluting, or the calling you ‘sir’?”

“Both.” The turian crossed his arms together and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not your superior officer; I’m your co-worker. ‘Pyres’ will do just fine.”

“Right… Gotcha.” Nervously, Rainbow scratched the back of her head. Meanwhile, the Lieutenant, sensing her unease, tried to change the subject.

“I see your recovery is coming along well,” he casually mentioned in an attempt to make small talk. “Not many people can take two bullets and be up and walking within a week.”

“Heh, yeah, well… Walking’s pretty much the best I can do at the moment… Hehe,” the equine agreed in a halfhearted attempt at a joke.

“So, what’s with the hardware?” Pyres said, motioning to the stasis unit on Rainbow’s back.

“Oh. That,” Rainbow replied, looking over her shoulder. “The docs put that on me to keep my wings from moving while they heal up.”

“And how long should that take?”

“Dunno…” The mare scuffed a hoof against the metal floor. “Couple weeks, I guess. After that, I start physical therapy, but… Stable said I probably shouldn’t get my hopes up.”

“Hmm…” Pyres’ mandible plates shifted around as he regarded the pegasus with a discerning eye.

Feeling his gaze upon her, Rainbow couldn’t help but feel put on the spot, and she steeled herself for what came next. Something she’d always hated to do in the past: admit her mistakes.

“So… Pyres, I… I owe you an apology,” she choked out, eyes glued to the floor. “All this time I thought you were getting on my case because you didn’t like me, and I ignored your advice because… I kinda didn’t really like you either.”

Rainbow breathed in and chanced a look up at the turian officer, whose expression was unchanged.

“Go on,” he said patiently.

“And I… I realize now that I was wrong. You’ve been doing this kinda stuff way longer than I have, and it shows. If I’d taken this job more seriously, I probably…” Rainbow trailed off, slightly wincing as she remembered the incredible agony of having two holes punched clean through her wings. Then she managed to get a hold of herself, and tried to put on a bold face. “Anyway, that’s all in the past. I’m ready to put the effort in.”

“Is that so?” Pyres asked, with just a hint of disbelief.

Unfazed by his apparent skepticism, Rainbow pushed on. “Yeah. I’ll do whatever you tell me to from now on. I want to do good by my friends; to earn the trust Twilight’s placed in me. I want to keep my… my family… safe. Whatever it takes… if you still think I’m worth it.”

The room was silent as Rainbow held her breath, awaiting the turian’s answer. For his part, Taxar seemed to be drawing it out as long as possible, examining the pegasus’ features in an effort to gauge her seriousness.

Finally, just as Rainbow was starting to feel annoyed by the waiting, Pyres seemed to relax his posture, bowing his head in her direction ever so slightly.

“Alright. One more chance to prove you’ve got what it takes,” he told her, causing a wave of relief to wash over the blue mare. “Welcome back, Director Dash.”

Rainbow’s mouth broke into a grin. “Good to be back, Lieutenant. So, what’s first on today’s agenda?”

“Eager to get to work, are we?” Pyres said with some amusement. “I went ahead and forwarded some reading material to your desk terminal. You can start there.”

“Yes, sir!” Immediately recognizing her mistake, Rainbow coughed into her hoof in an effort to downplay it. “Uh, oops. Sorry.”

In response, Pyred grumbled, but didn’t say anything. He just redirected his attention to his own work terminal, once more typing away.

Her heavy heart feeling much lighter than before, now that that bit of unpleasantness was behind her, Rainbow quickly walked over to the other side of the room, behind the partition to where her own workspace was. She hopped up onto her chaise and wiggled in to make herself comfortable, all the while beholding her modest assortment of personal effects. That is, until she laid eyes on something that was sitting between her and her desk monitor; something that wasn’t there previously.

“Uh, hey, Pyres? What is this?” she asked, pointing at the basket of baked goods resting in front of her, still perfectly sealed in its wrapping foil and bearing a tag from Celestial Delights.

“Oh, that.” Pyres briefly glanced away from his work and over to the other desk. “The couple that runs the district’s bakery dropped that off a while ago. I can’t eat the stuff, so it’s all yours.”

“Really? That’s awesome!” Rainbow exclaimed, grateful for the sweet snack after the bland hospital food she’d been forced to endure at Huerta.

With great anticipation, she bit into the wrapping and, with some effort, exposed the various small cookies and cakes. Their tantalizing colors made it hard to choose, but eventually, Rainbow settled on one of the frosted cookies and snapped it up into her waiting maw.

“Huh…” she said, chewing it with a thoughtful look on her face, before downing it all in one big gulp. Smacking her lips a few times, she hesitated, then spat the cookie out in the trash.

“Ungh, Sweet Celestia, those are stale! How long have these been sitting out there?”

Too low for Rainbow to hear, Pyres had a subtle laugh privately to himself, and resumed working.

================================================================

*Closing Active Log*

-Archiving Crisis Arc-

Assets Acquired:
+25 Equestrian Herd
Following a firebombing and the subsequent kidnapping and rescue of eight of their citizens, Ponies have gained a profound moral boost at the thwarting of their attackers. While C-Sec has officially taken the credit, the Equestrians see the madam president’s actions as proof that they can be taken seriously and are not just meant to be pushed around.

+15 Sugar³
New insight into the mechanical function of the Equine Changelings due to damage incurred to one has given an unexpected glimpse into Equine construction practices and materials, giving new inspiration to the crews at Sugar³.

Codex Updated: The Shadow Broker, Changelings, Moonlight

-Bonus- : In the Lair of the Shadow Broker

--Hagalaz--

"Shepard, good to see you." Liara T’soni looked up from her command console, turning to the Commander with a smile as he approached wearing his casual N7-branded shipwear. It was of course obvious to Commander Shepard that his friend had not slept in some time, judging by the purple bags under her eyes.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d check in to see how you were doing," Shepard replied with a wave of his hand.

"I appreciate it. As you can imagine, I’ve been quite busy. I’ve barely even begun to catalogue the old Broker’s vast collection of data," Liara told him, cutting straight to the chase as she turned back to her work. "While you’re here, there is some new information on the terminal I've prepared that you might be interested in. You should take a look when you get a moment."

Nodding, Shepard took the hint and left the new Shadow Broker to her work, moving over the nearby console to see what she had found.

Dossiers: The Equestrian Herd

File One:

Broker Operation: Corral
Assets: Operative Valdiv (Covert Recon Specialist), Operative Amoni (Biologist), standard covert operations loadout, mobile research station loadout

Materials requested during course of operation: 24 LOKI mechs, 8 FENRIS mechs, 2 YMIR mechs, 1 unmarked Solari Class civilian cargo transport, 8 stasis chambers for specimen transport, 1 Kowloon Class freighter + crew (counterfeit credentials supplied)

Mission parameters:

—Determine validity of the Equestrian species, origins, and rumors of biotic potential.

—Determine origin of equine-form mechs: manufacture, composition, and construction.

—Evaluate asset/threat potential, catalogue known tendencies

—Obtain genetic samples of subspecies for study, verify findings with Operative Amoni

—Update: Obtain live specimens; transport to Site Falchion for study. Due to limited sample size, termination of specimens is prohibited. Collateral damage of property and other species not a concern.

Operative Valdiv's Reports

Entry 1: Arrived at the Citadel and infiltrated Tayseri Ward without incident. Arrival coinciding with the opening of the district to the general public. Will proceed to infiltrate “New Ponyville” as a tourist and begin gathering intel over the course of the next several solar days. I do not anticipate any complications. If anything, these “ponies” seem eager and willing to cooperate.

Entry 4: Biotic potential overwhelmingly verified as genuine. Neither of the three pony subspecies appears to use a biotic amp, yet the Equestrians’ mastery of barriers, levitation, and personal flight is nearly ubiquitous. Authority structure appears to be matriarchal in nature and is formed in a manner more in line with a corporation than a government.

Personal Note: While I have doubts that these creatures are the result of a secret Alliance experiment, I can see how the rumor has so easily taken hold. It is inconceivable that this race’s existence has escaped our notice until now.

Entry 5: All attempts to directly study the “Changelings” have failed. The mechs’ outer shell is composed of an as yet unidentified alloy which renders them invisible to standard omni-tool scans, and using more sophisticated scanning tech would arouse suspicion. Basic observation suggests that their cognitive functions appear to be on par with that of a traditional VI, though the Equestrians themselves seem to treat the artificial equines as more than mere servants. Should the parameters of the mission be expanded, I would recommend sending a robotics specialist to accompany the biologist.

Entry 7: Observed the Equestrians’ designated leader at a distance today. Twilight Sparkle’s authority over her “Herd” seems to be absolute, as the other members of her kind follow her directives explicitly. Following my observations, I have determined that any attempts at bribery or coercion would have a low chance of success. The “Madam President” appears obsessively dedicated to the wellbeing of her species above all else. Infiltrating her inner circle may prove impossible, as it seems to consist exclusively of her fellow ponies.

Personal Note: I find these Equestrians to be almost sickeningly sweet and innocent, but there’s something about their leader that makes me uneasy. I’ll be keeping a close eye on her.

Entry 13: I have now catalogued over 100 unique physical samples for study -- mostly hair follicles -- and passed them along to Operative Amoni for study. Obtaining the samples was relatively easy, though I am starting to doubt my ability to remain innocuous. Some of the ponies are starting to recognize and greet me directly during undercover reconnaissance. To keep my cover from being blown, I will avoid New Ponyville for the time being, and switch to long-distance observation only.

Entry 16: I’ve read Operative Amoni’s preliminary report, and frankly, it defies belief. The Doctor claims that the ponies did not originate on Earth (as was previously hypothesized) but predate Earth life entirely, along with all other modern galactic species. I would assume he was lying if he hadn’t already forwarded his findings to the Broker.

Personal Note: I am beginning to doubt the salarian’s contribution to the operation. I will recommend he be relieved and replaced immediately, followed by getting his head examined.

Entry 17: I’m officially rescinding my recommendation to relieve Operative Amoni. Followup testing at Site Falchion has confirmed the preliminary findings beyond any doubt. The Equestrians’ chromosomal structure shows signs of artificial structuring far more advanced than what is possible with current technology. Evolutionary paradigms indicate large-scale manipulation at the genetic level from a common ancestor potentially millions of years old, yet all three subspecies remain biologically compatible. They’re all the same species.

Personal Note: This should not be possible. In all my centuries I’ve never seen anything like this. If these Equestrians really were created, then who -- or what -- created them? And why have they appeared now, of all times? I’m starting to think reconnaissance isn’t enough. We need to know everything we can about these things.

Entry 19: New orders received, and plans are being made. I wish to express my professional opinion as a former Commando by stating that this operation will have to be flawlessly planned, timed, and executed. Abducting members of the work crews in Tayseri is not an option, as they lack the necessary diversity to satisfy the research quota. Herd mentality also rules out covert abduction, as even a single missing pony would be noticed too quickly. Therefore, the best approach would be to gather specimens in a single swift action, and immediately transport them off the station to Site Falchion before the authorities catch on. The Changeling units will also have to be sufficiently distracted or neutralized prior to the operation commencing. Requesting any information that can be provided on the district’s schematics, including security and emergency systems.

Entry 22: Operation will commence in four hours. With blueprints acquired from Expanding Reaches of District 1286 and Keeper Tunnel layouts of the underlying Ward, I predict a high probability of success. Explosives will be detonated during a window in time when no targets are present in their blast radii. Magnesium-phosphorus powder within the devices coupled with the planted viral VI in the Ward’s environmental sensors will ensure maximum distraction time from both emergency services and the Equestrians themselves. Recent externalities have proven useful in establishing a potential cover story for the event: a terrorist attack by someone inspired by the contents of an inflammatory documentary, The Cost of Grazing. Mechs armed with tranquilizers formulated by Operative Amoni will exit the tunnels during the chaos and identify/subdue Equestrians that fall within operational parameters. They will then be transported via Keeper Tunnel to an unmonitored exit point and back to base from there. Once secured aboard the Rodrigo, they will depart the Citadel en route to Site Falchion within the hour.

Personal Note: I’m increasing my fee by 10%. If the Broker wants the best, he’d better pay for it.

Entry 23: Operation status update: The requisite specimens have been secured and the Rodrigo is preparing to receive them. However, there were complications. Somehow, the Equestrians’ Director of Defense picked up our trail and nearly jeopardized the mission after destroying my entire unit of LOKIs. I quickly incapacitated her and made for the extraction point, leaving proximity mines as a contingency that would collapse the tunnel exit in the event I was pursued. They triggered within minutes, and shortly after, a C-Sec grounding order was placed on all ship travel to and from the Ward arm. They’re on to me. The possibility exists that this location might become compromised, therefore as soon as the Rodrigo is cleared for launch, I am dismantling this base and evacuating the area. Will update as information becomes available.

Entry 24: The operation was a failure. Before our contacts in C-Sec Tayseri Headquarters could lift the lockdown, none other than Madam President Twilight Sparkle herself tracked down my base, circumvented my security, exhausted my supply of mechs, and incapacitated the crew of the Rodrigo with the help of her companions. At the lack of direction provided by the Broker, I was forced into confronting her directly, and quite frankly, I am lucky to be alive. I managed to convince her into letting me leave, but not before revealing a side to her that was never hinted at in any of my previous reconnaissance. These Equestrians are not to be underestimated, and any future operations conducted in relation to them will need to be performed with the utmost discretion. Recommend that Twilight Sparkle be marked a Class-X threat level until further notice.

Personal Note: Fuck. I need a vacation.

::End Record::

File 2:

Intercepted Messages:

The following communique was intercepted via a public extranet terminal in District 1286. Flagged as possible Cerberus activity.

Eloas, T. (Senior Associate, Minerva's Trust) contacting *UNKNOWN USER*

Unknown User (UU): “Well? Did they accept your offer?”

Eloas (E): "I’m afraid not. The one I spoke to, the group’s treasurer, seemed to be interested. But she was apparently overruled by a higher authority."

UU: "You were asked to ensure the Equestrians took the deal, Mr. Eloas. You assured me that they would accept the terms of the agreement that we outlined. I believe your exact words were, ‘They can’t say no.’"

E: "That was my preliminary finding, yes. Under these extraordinary circumstances, I expected them to jump at the first chance to establish a credit line. All things considered, seventeen percent interest was more than generous."

UU: "And you didn't think to reduce the terms of the contract further?"

E: "F-further? Sir, with all due respect, the Trust's policy has always been to--"

UU: "This is not about policy, Mr. Eloas. You were tasked with obtaining a contract with the Herd, and you failed. Your superiors will not be pleased."

E: "I understand the Board’s frustration, but sometimes these things can’t be helped. Honestly, why Minerva’s Trust wants to prioritize this one species as a potential partnership over others doesn’t make sense to me. Or why you have been so insistent on securing their mechanical assets as part of the deal, for that matter."

UU: "You don’t need to understand the particulars, just know that both you and the Trust stand to gain much more than a new client in this deal."

E: "Well, true as that may be, it’s obvious that the Equestrians are intent on going it alone for the time-being... Maybe they’ll be more amenable to my offer when their sources of capital dry up. I can’t imagine any of our competitors giving them a better deal, at least."

UU: "I hope so, Mr. Eloas. In the meantime, I suggest you brush up on your haggling skills. And don’t contact me again unless you have some positive results."

E: “Y-yes… sir? Again, I have to stress how uncomfortable--”

*CALL ENDED*

====================

District 1286: C-Sec Office Terminal -- Series of private messages between head of Tayseri Ward C-Sec: Capt. Arlin Inastri and District 1286 Liaison Officer: Lt. Taxar Pyres

Capt. Inastri-
I’ve arrived as instructed in District 1286. Is this some kind of joke?

-Pyres

Lt. Pyres-
You know I don’t joke. You’re lucky I didn’t suspend your ass after that stunt you pulled in the 300 blocks. Just because the press calls you a hero doesn't mean the Executor agrees with your liberal interpretation of the word “warrant”.

-Inastri

Capt. Inastri-
I *saved* those people, and this is the thanks I get? I didn’t join C-Sec to sit behind a desk and babysit a bunch of stuffed animals.

-Pyres

Lt. Pyres-
And the only reason I haven’t taken your badge is because I know assignments like this are beneath someone of your talents. So do me a favor and calm the fuck down, tough it out until the dust settles, then we’ll stick some rookie in that office and you can get back to more important things.

-Inastri

Capt. Inastri-
Like submitting my resignation?

-Pyres

Lt. Pyres-
Not funny.

-Inastri

Lt. Pyres-
What the fuck kind of stunt are you trying to pull, Pyres? I finally get your transfer approved and you *turn it down*? Are you getting too comfortable behind that desk, or what?

-Inastri

Capt. Inastri-
I’m being completely serious. As much as I’m sure the brass misses chewing me out, I think I’ll stick around for a little while longer. Blame my insatiable curiosity. There’s just something about these Equestrians that I can’t put my claw on. Sure, they look like a human child’s toy, but they’re not anything like they appear. Underneath the smiles and bright colors is a determination that burns like nothing I’ve ever seen. Hell, their Director Dash barely has a clue and even *she* puts in more effort than half of the damn force.

-Pyres

Lt. Pyres-
This is either the strangest example of insubordination I’ve ever seen, or you’ve gone completely insane, my friend.

-Inastri

Capt. Inastri-
Could be both. I’ll let you know.
-Pyres

===========================
File 3
Extranet activity and purchasing records for several ponies marked as ‘individuals of interest’ by Operative Valdiv, offering some insight into their habits and interests as well as guilty pleasures.

Madam President Twilight Sparkle: The Universal Guide for Understanding the Milky Way’s Many Races (Hardcover), All the Galaxy’s A Stage: Political Theatre in the Modern Era (Hardcover), The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: 22nd Century Edition (Hardcover), Time Management for Dummies (Hardcover) *sent back for refund; reason: unhelpful*

Rarity: The Wrong Fork: A Human’s Guide to Alien Etiquette (Digital), 12-month subscription to Mass Appeal (#1 Rated Fashion Magazine), Divided by Honor (Turian Romance) *reviewed 2/5 stars*, The Azure Fields (Asari Romance) *reviewed 4/5 stars*, The Azure Fields 2: Longing (Asari Romance) *reviewed 5/5 stars*, The Azure Fields Complete Series (270 Volumes of Asari Romance) *review pending*, Seat Reservation for Fleet and Flotilla (Sept. 28, 2186, 17:00 showing)

Rainbow Dash: C-SEC: The Beginning of Justice (Turian Documentary), Partners in Law (Action Movie), Partners in Law 2: Law Harder (Action Movie), Blasto: The Jellyfish Stings (Action Movie), Scale Collector’s Model (Normandy SR-1), Scale Collector’s Model (Turian Dreadnought), Scale Collector’s Model (3-for-1 Fighter Pack), Multi-level Glass Display Case *RUSH DELIVERY*

Pinkie Pie: Virtual Intelligence 101: Programming Introduction, Advanced Engineering 105, Advanced Holographics 105 (Theses Compilation), Bio-Tech: The Way of the Future (Online Seminar), The Complete Mordin Solus Bibliography (Digital), Galaxy of Fantasy Elite Edition (Video Game), Galaxy of Fantasy subscription extension (300 days), *multiple searches across various forums for “coffee substitute”*

Applejack: *5 extranet searches for various phrases containing “extranet”*, *37 extranet searches starting with the phrase “How do Ah”, Citadel Employment Regulations: Everything You Need to Know (Digital), Earth: The Home of Humanity (Documentary), The Equestrian Guide: The Horses of Earth (Documentary), Terra’s Select 24-count (Fermented Apple Beverage Variety Pack), How to Move On From Crisis: A Guide for Trauma Survivors (Self-Help Guide)

Fluttershy: Xeno-Psychology 102 (Online Seminar), How to Win Friends and Influence People (Self-Help Guide), Chicken Soup for the Soul 22nd Century Collection (Digital), My Animal Shelter: Galaxy Pets (Video Game), Miniature Holographic Projection Drone (Preloaded with 200+ Earth fauna profiles)

Sterling Silver: The Galactic Bank: A History of the Volus (Documentary), Feren Gi’s 286 Rules of Obtainment (Digital), Building Credit: The Markets of Thriving Colonies (Online Seminar), The Sentinel: Palaven Valor vs. The Cosmic Terror (Turian Graphic Novel), The Justicar Chronicles (Asari Graphic Novel), Best of the Silver Age (Earth Graphic Novel Collection), *extranet search for “how to restrict child from credit account”*

Macintosh Apple: A Spiritual Journey Through the Cosmos (Documentary Series), Expressing Yourself: The Wallflower’s Guide to Interactions (Self-Help Guide), The Galactic Lexicon: Expand Your Vocabulary in Any Setting! (Self-Help Guide)

Unknown Purchases: (Unable to trace these purchases to any specific individual or terminal download. However, they have been catalogued.)

The Immortal Crisis: Memoirs of a Matriarch (Documentary), Coping with Loss (Self-Help Guide), Pre-Prothean Civilization by Liara T’soni (Thesis), The Complete Works of Isaac Asimov 22nd Century Edition (Digital), The Complete Works of William Shakespeare 22nd Century Edition (Digital), The Complete Works of Mark Twain 22nd Century Edition (Digital)

========================================

Shepard stepped away from the console, bemused, as he moved to rejoin Liara.

“You know, Shepard, you still haven’t told me the whole story about what happened with you and the Equestrians,” she offered, sending him a sly glance.

“Maybe next time. It’s a long story.” Shepard shook his head good-naturedly, then with a touch more concern asked, “That’s some pretty specific info on there. The old Broker was interested in them?”

“Immensely. Their appearance on the Citadel took him completely off guard, and the more he learned about them, the more obsessed he became,” Liara responded, looking away from the databanks and reports, her tone surprisingly neutral.

“Obsessed enough to attack them directly?” Shepard inquired, folding his arms and leaning against the console.

“He realized how old their species truly is, and the implications of their having withstood countless cycles of Reaper harvesting. He was desperate to know if they held the key to surviving what’s to come.”

Shepard nodded. “Well, unfortunately for him, they are not as harmless as they might seem.”

“I’ve noticed,” Liara said, her voice split between admiration and intimidation. “And others are starting to take notice as well. His attempt to abduct several of them from New Ponyville spoke to his desperation. Thankfully, I’ve already made efforts to repair the damage that was done. It was not hard to determine what they needed given how openly they are discussed throughout the galaxy.”

“Have you been reading their mail?” Shepard asked with a smirk.

“I read everybody’s mail, Shepard,” the asari retorted playfully. “And speaking of which, your purple friend happened to send you something while you’ve been occupied. I have it on the comm station for you.”

Moving to the side, the Commander tapped into the console which brought up his messages and mail, seeing the new entry in his inbox.

“Dear Commander Shepard,

Crisis is a word that nobody cares for until it’s too late. Not knowing what is happening in the moment, having only so much time to make a crucial decision. I know that you are no stranger to conflict, but I imagine that it doesn’t get easier with experience. These past few days have shown me, more than any other time, a crisis is when we need each other most. I don’t know if you get news from the Citadel out in the Terminus Systems, but New Ponyville was attacked recently, and some of my ponies were abducted in the chaos. We’re fine now; we were able to get them back, though not without cost. I won’t go into the finer details, but now that things have settled down, I can’t help feeling like there was something more I could’ve done; a different choice to affect the outcome.

There is an Earth saying I heard from Anderson, about plans never surviving contact with the enemy. Preparation can only take you so far, and it’s the unexpected challenges that crop up along the way that can make or break anypony. And after everything that’s happened in the last few days, at least I can confidently say that we won’t be broken so easily. I may not be able to match you (in a number of ways) but I think I have a better understanding of your world now, and I plan on making good use of that insight.

I hope wherever you are, you are safe, and that you will have the chance to come by the Citadel soon to see what we’ve managed to accomplish here. I already have a spot picked out for us to meet up. Best view in the district!

Until next we meet, Your Friend,

Twilight Sparkle.”

Shepard couldn’t help but smile as he finished reading. A quick visit to the Citadel didn’t seem like a bad idea right then. But, his thought was interrupted when he heard his comlink chime.

The Commander raised his hand to his ear, fully alert. “Shepard here.”

“Commander, I have a priority message for you. It’s from Admiral Hackett,” came the voice of Kelly Chambers, his yeoman.

“Put him through.”

There was a brief moment of pause, then the gruff, familiar tone of the Alliance’s Supreme Commander came over the line. “Commander Shepard, I need to discuss a sensitive matter with you… privately. It’s urgent.”

Shepard nodded, not missing a beat. “Kelly, I’ll take this call in my quarters, I’m coming back on board.”

“Aye, Commander,” came the yeoman’s response.

“Never a moment’s rest, is there, Shepard?” Liara offered as he turned to depart. “Until next time. I’ll be sure to have something new awaiting your arrival.”

Author's Note

Appetizer as we knock off the rust and get back into the swing of things. Please don’t forget to check out the previous chapter: New Dawn, as it has also been freshened up and revised.

No time table on the next chapter just yet, but it will be available soon.