“Queen Chrysalis, this is Queen Whisper. Please respond.”

I released the button once more, starting another thirty second count. I’d been broadcasting unencrypted for a couple of minutes now, with the jammer temporarily switched off. Serenity surely had someling handling sigint work, but it might take time for them to come across my broadcast, and even more to get word to their queen. I mentally reviewed the path through the ducts that would lead me back to my exit-point. Then I pressed the button again.

“Queen Chrysalis, this is Queen Whisper. Please respond.”

I had counted to twenty when the radio crackled and came to life in my ear, filled with an icy, contempt-laced voice. “This is Queen Chrysalis. What do you want?”

My heart pounded at hearing such contempt from a changeling queen. I had to remind myself that I was a queen as well, or at least playing at being one.

I took a quick, calming breath before depressing the button and speaking. “I am still hoping to negotiate an end to the bloodshed. Your hive can not win this fight, but it doesn’t have to be wiped out for a hopeless cause. Please--”

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped into the radio. “You will never defeat us, and I am not interested in making deals with a backstabbing traitor like you. I would rather die free than cower at your hooves. There will be no negotiations.”

“Please,” I said again, pouring every ounce of sincerity into my voice. “You have no source of love. Your--”

“And we have you and your scheming to thank for that! You wipe out our love supply, then try to act like you’re here to help. Well I see through you. Do you really want to end this? Then you come and meet me, face to face, and we can end this like true queens!”

I wasn’t exactly sure how to reply to that. Obviously, I wasn’t going to openly face her. I had no idea how dangerous she might be, but with the outcome of this war inevitable, it was a risk I didn’t have to take.

She correctly interpreted my silence as a refusal. “I thought not. You’re not a queen. You’re just a cowardly pretender, skulking in the shadows and sending pawns against us. If you find some courage in that treacherous heart of yours, then come and face me. Until then, I don’t want to hear another poisonous word from you.”

I sighed, but didn’t reply. The truth is, I hadn’t expected it to work. Despite that expectation, I still had to make an attempt, even if all it got me was the ability to honestly say that I tried.

Step four of my infiltration involved establishing a safeguard. This, in turn, took me to the depths of the hive, where the most secure armory was located.

Six soldiers were stationed outside, weapons ready. Moving through the ducts to the armory itself, I could see four more stationed within, with two wearing pegasus power armors. All were sitting by a table, chatting just ten feet from the balefire bomb.

I slowly made my way through the ducts, taking my time. I couldn’t risk making a single sound. I’d left almost all my equipment behind. All I carried was a single small bundle wrapped in scrap cloth, weighing barely over a pound.

At each grate, I stopped and observed, looking over the shelves and crates filling the room. While most of the weapons had been distributed, the storage equipment gave ample cover.

Eventually I found a vent I liked. It was on the far side of the room and was hidden from the guards by a cluster of boxes on the top of a shelf.

Being an armory, the vents were more secure, held in place with heavy screws. Having already scouted out the location, I was prepared. I slipped out the head of a screwdriver from my bundle, grasped it in my magic, and slid it through the grate.

Working blind, without the physical feedback of touch, is surprisingly difficult, but I was patient. I had time. It took almost a minute, but I finally got the screwdriver head into the slot of the screw and started turning. Even this took time, as I had to rotate the screw slowly to quiet the squeaking. Finally, it came free, and I started on the next.

It took a good fifteen minutes to get that vent open. A tiny voice in the back of my head screamed to get on with it, but I knew better than to listen to it. Patience was key. Better to take my time than risk discovery.

With the last screw removed, I slid the grate away, setting it gently atop the shelf. Next I scooted back several feet; I wanted to transform without those guards seeing the flash. Even my hybrid-racoon form felt too obtrusive for this. Instead, I took on the form of a large rat. Small, sneaky, and easily overlooked. It was also about the most difficult and draining form I had ever taken. Significant changes in mass are like that.

I made my way out the vent and onto the top shelf, dragging my bundle with me. The loose cloth gave me an easy grip with my teeth, and though the bundle was still fairly heavy to me, it let me haul it along without too much difficulty.

Slowly, I picked my way down the shelf, until I was forced to hop down the last couple of feet. I landed hard, but given my size, that didn’t mean much. If any of the guards heard me, I didn’t notice a reaction.

The shelves hid my movement as I made my way around the armory until the balefire bomb was directly between me and the guards.

The bomb was set on a heavy flatbed cart, secured with thick straps. It was the closest I had gotten yet to the bomb, and I could see far more details. The center of it glowed with a pulsing, sickly green, and this close, I could see it was covered in intricate shapes. I started tracing the edges…

I had to physically pull my gaze away, nearly falling off my paws. There was something deeply unsettling about the magic surrounding it, as if it was trying to draw me in. I glanced at it, and could practically feel my awareness seeping away. From that point on, I made sure to not look directly at it.

Around the core was a protective metal shroud. There had been letters stenciled on it, but centuries in the desert had left most of them faded and chipped away. I couldn’t tell what was originally written on them, but it appeared to be in the Equestrian language. Perhaps the shroud was part of the Equestrian Army’s experiments, or maybe just some extra precaution to prevent accidentally detonating it with a careless jostle.

I slowly crept up to the cart, dragging my little bundle with me. Climbing up onto the bed of the cart was easy enough, though hauling my bundle up was a little awkward and took a few tries. I tried to be silent. Every little slide of my paws on the cart or faint tap of my bundle bumping against it made my fur stand on edge.

The guards just kept talking, oblivious to me.

“I just think we should shove this creepy thing out the front, shut the door, and blow it up. Stables are built to take shit like that!”

“Yeah, except those ponies will shoot anything that comes out. Some dumb pony would blow us all up.”

“Besides, even if they didn’t, I wouldn’t count on the Stable door stopping it. Look at everything else those Stable-Tec ponies got wrong!”

I only halfway listened to them, mostly for any sign of noticing my presence. I focused instead on my bundle, heaving it up along the side of the cart as quietly as I could. As soon as I got it up, I slowly slid up to the shroud and untied the cloth.

Inside was a single explosive charge. I gave it one final check. There were five remote initiators. Four were on the same channel, set to the maximum delay of ten seconds. I wanted full redundancy. No failures could be permitted. The last initiator was set to a separate channel, with no delay. It was an additional backup, in case some unforeseen circumstance came up where ten seconds was too long.

Everything was correct, just like the two times I had checked before setting out. I made my way to the edge of the shroud, peering over the lip to the inside. The bolts and seams inside gave a perfect place to pack the explosives. I hefted the charge up and gingerly slid it into place, then started working at it, trying to pack it into the crevice as securely as possible with my tiny paws.

Having the core of the balefire megaspell right behind my head was one of the most unnerving things I’d experienced. The glow steadily warped and shifted, reflected in the dull metal of the shroud. Even without looking at it, I could feel the world trying to pull away. The rest of the room seemed to recede into darkness, and I put all my effort into focusing on what I was doing. Even the conversation of the guards grew distant, as if heard through a long tunnel. The balefire swirled and twisted behind me, as if trying to suck me in.

I swear I heard whispers coming from the damn thing, just on the edge of my perception.

When I finally stepped away from the megaspell, satisfied that the explosives were properly secured, I found that I was shaking. The guards were still talking, as clear as ever. The walls still stood there, lit and unmoving.

I shuddered, taking a couple of calming breaths before slipping away, leaving that terrifying device behind me. I had much more to do.

Step five finally kicked off at three in the morning, the culmination of more than four hours of investigating, observing, and waiting.

I’d taken my time. Every inch of the space had been carefully mapped out in my mind. Every step of my course was planned. Strategic vents had been loosened in preparation, so they required only the lightest of pressure to open. Every object in the area had been carefully investigated. I had gone over my equipment three times, carefully ensuring that it would all function correctly when I needed it.

I waited, peering out the thin grate of the vent, into the quarters of Queen Chrysalis the Sixth.

She was asleep. She had been asleep for well over an hour. Still I waited, observing.

She was just ten yards away, tucked into her huge plush bed and oblivious of the world around her, but still I waited. I had one shot at this, and no idea how capable she might be if awoken. I needed to get closer, so I waited.

Finally, I saw the faint movement of her eyelid as her eyes moved beneath them. It was what I was waiting for. I rose from my position, silently slinking down the duct.

All sleep is not equal, and when your job might involve sneaking away from or past individuals who are sleeping, those details become part of your training. REM sleep, signaled by its rapid eye movements, is the most easily identifiable and exploitable phase of sleep. Not only is it harder to wake from, it induces a form of paralysis to prevent an individual from acting out their dreams. That paralysis can potentially linger for several seconds after being woken, and being woken from REM sleep can leave a person disoriented for a few minutes.

As I said, I had one shot at this, so I was taking every advantage I could get. REM sleep lasts about ten minutes on average, and my plan should need no more than two.

I reached the bathroom vent where I had stashed my bundle of equipment: my pistol, PipBuck, and remote detonator. A quick glance through the slats of the vent confirmed once more that the bathroom was empty, and I gripped the vent in my magic, gently pressing until it slid silently from the frame. I levitated a towel from the nearby rack and laid it on the counter, then carefully placed the vent atop it on the sink counter, soft and silent. Then I clutched my bundle of equipment and hopped down.

My magic wasn’t strong enough to levitate myself, but it slowed and guided my fall. I landed on the thick bath-mat, which I knew from earlier investigation had a rubber backing that prevented sliding. It was as perfectly silent as I could hope for.

I set the equipment down and moved to the other end of the mat where I wouldn’t accidentally disturb it. With that, I called up my magic to transform. The form I took was mostly like my natural form, but with blunted fangs and soft cat-like paws instead of hooves. I also kept my armor hidden. As well-fitted as it was, it wasn’t perfectly silent, and I was taking no risks.

I buckled the PipBuck to my leg, letting the E.F.S. calibrate as I slipped the detonator’s lanyard around my neck. Finally, I took up my pistol in my teeth and stepped up to the door, my paws near silent even on the polished tile. I did a quick final check. The pistol was loaded, a round chambered, the safety off. S.A.T.S. was fully charged.

I pressed the button beside the door, and it opened as quietly as during my earlier tests. Quietly, however, is not the same as silently, so I wasted no time. The moment the door was open, I advanced in a smooth glide, much as I had seen Dusty move. I turned left, my pistol fixed on the form of the sleeping changeling queen as I moved up. I advanced until I was less than two yards away, my sights aligned over the back of her head.

Once again, I was struck by how young she looked. She was barely an adult, and lying there asleep, she seemed so peaceful. She had taken a genocidal course of action, and had spoken directly to me about her plans, yet it was difficult to connect that knowledge with the gentle-looking individual lying before me, asleep and helpless.

More than that, this was a queen. She wasn’t my queen, but I couldn’t help but feel a little of the significance of her title. It was a revered position. The highest place of honor among changelings. Even if we disagree with their actions, it was a position that commanded some respect. A changeling queen should be able to face her fate head-on. She deserved better than being slain in her sleep.

Three shell casings clattered on the hard tile floor. Queen Chrysalis the Sixth was dead.

I lowered the pistol as she gave a few twitches, the last firings of a dying nervous system. It was a victory for us, but I didn’t feel any elation. I just felt tired and hollow. Weeks of struggle, a full-blown war, the infiltration of a hostile hive, all ending with a whimper in a darkened bedroom. If I’d heard tales of such a thing during my training, the assassination of a changeling queen in the heart of her hive, I would have thought it the most amazing covert action in history. Living it, it felt anticlimactic and dirty. It had been the right call, but I couldn’t say I felt happy about it.

My eyes lingered on the ruined back of her head as the blood poured out, soaking into the plush bed. I shuddered, turning away.

It wasn’t the blood that made the sight so unsettling. I’d seen enough over the last few months to lose any squeamishness I might have had about the subject. No matter how gruesome a sight it might be, it would always be secondary to the mere fact that this was the corpse of a changeling queen. Despite what Queen Chrysalis had done, it was all too easy to picture Queen Ephema in her place. Worse yet, it was easy to imagine just how much impact her death would have on the changelings of her hive. I was about to devastate them.

But I’d already known that. In fact, I had planned on using that. I turned, sweeping up my spent casings before walking over to the intercom. A quick flip of a switch on the door panel locked it. It would only be a matter of minutes before they could open it, but that was more time than I needed. I just needed perhaps thirty seconds. That was enough time to broadcast a final goodbye from an exhausted and disillusioned Queen Chrysalis, summon up flames to consume the scene, and escape into the ventilation system once more. If anything could convince these changelings that the fight was lost, surely the suicide of their own queen would do so.

I called up my magic, focusing on my queenly disguise, with the minor alterations to mimic the voice of the young Queen Chrysalis. Then I drew in a deep breath, raised my hoof to the intercom… and after several seconds, rested it on the wall. I stared at the button, almost as if willing it to press on its own. I didn’t want to press it myself.

As an Infiltrator, you have to become comfortable with doing things you would rather not do, but this felt different. This didn’t feel like a matter of personal taste, some unpleasantness that I would rather avoid. Now that I was there, ready to follow through on the plan, with the queen’s corpse behind me, it simply felt wrong.

The plan made sense, of course. Remove the focal point for their fanatical drive against ponies, subtly encourage them to surrender, all while hiding my own involvement so as to avoid becoming a focus for their despair and outrage. It made logical sense, but I was no longer so certain it was the right thing to do.

I stood there, thinking on the subject, and put myself in their hooves. I thought of Queen Ephema’s death and my own reaction to it. I had found her dead, and I had set out into a balefire-scoured Wasteland, without regard for my safety and only the slimmest hope of success. If our hive were under siege, and she died, how would I react? Would I surrender to our enemy?

Not as long as there was any chance of forwarding my hive’s goals. No, I would probably fight to the death, so long as I could guarantee some part of my hive survived. Serenity still had changelings outside the hive that would survive whatever happened in here. I would want to resist the attackers with everything I had, and inflict as much damage as possible. How would I do it?

A great number of possibilities presented themselves, but none were terribly relevant. Only the end states really mattered, and given the impossibility of fighting off the attackers and the eventuality of a horrible death to love starvation, there was really only one endgame: open the Stable door, throw out the balefire megaspell, and detonate it. If our lives were to be lost anyway, we would spend them destroying the greatest obstacle to our sisters who were still out there.

I shook my head, as if clearing away the scenario, and considered a new one: instead of my queen mysteriously dying or committing suicide, what if she were killed by a foreign queen? I’d be outraged and would want vengeance for my murdered queen. The final outcome was the same.

It was a wash.

But maybe the scenarios weren’t quite as simple as I first supposed. I wasn’t some murderous queen looking to destroy them, though it was quite possible that they might see me that way. I had made every attempt to seem sympathetic and compassionate. Even if they didn’t believe it, it was out there.

My queen’s suicide might convince me that our goals were lost, and that the offer of a seemingly sympathetic queen might be the best way to preserve something of our hive. That was the idea I had originally considered when forming my plan.

But if that seemingly sympathetic queen had instead infiltrated my hive and killed my own queen? There were a surprising amount of warring emotions there. Certainly there was anger and distrust. If she were really so sympathetic to our plight, why would she kill our queen? On the other hoof, there was abject horror. She had killed the most well-protected and important individual in our entire hive. There was absolutely nothing that could stop her from killing any one of us. Yet there was also a degree of uncertainty and confusion. If she could so easily kill any of us, why was she offering seemingly generous terms of surrender?

Certainly, I could be trying to trick them into surrendering just to make things easier on myself. At the same time, perhaps it suggested a degree of restraint and a desire to minimize violence. Which would win out?

Making all of it worse, even the most fanatical of changelings were not of a single, homogenous mind. They would not all react the same, and that was particularly dangerous when a hopeless and suicidal changeling could have access to a megaspell.

It still seemed to be a wash, but one troubling thought occurred to me. Regardless of the outcome here at the hive, this was a decision that could have consequences years down the road. It wasn’t just about getting them to surrender. The choice wasn’t really between them thinking I had killed their queen versus thinking their queen had killed herself. Truth has a way of coming to the surface. This was a choice between me telling them I had killed their queen, or them finding out some time later that I had killed their queen and lied to them.

I was trying to convince changelings, some of whom had already surrendered, to give ponies some degree of trust. Hinging all of that on a lie would threaten to tear all of that down.

That made a far more convincing argument, and to tell the truth, Honesty gave a sense of doing the right thing. I just hoped that me doing the right thing wasn’t about to get a lot of people killed.

My hoof slid away from the intercom. I’d still be sending a message, but I wanted to be well away from here when I did.

With a new plan in mind, I set about implementing it. First was returning to the bed. I looked over the form of Queen Chrysalis one last time before reaching out, unlatching and removing her PipBuck. With that secured, I focused my magic, calling up green fire to consume her remains. As the flames rapidly spread to the bedding, I returned to the bathroom and retook my hybrid-racoon form. Getting back in the vent took a bit more work than getting down, especially with the extra PipBuck, but I didn’t have to be quiet this time.

With the vent securely in place, I scurried down the duct while awkwardly speaking into my broadcaster. “Two Bits? This is Whisper.”

His voice was thick with fatigue when he finally replied. “Two Bits here. What’s up?”

“I may be wasting my time in telling you this, but make sure your forces are on full alert. I may be about to kick over an ant hill.”

There was a long pause before he replied. “I don’t even know what to say about that phrase coming from you. And what do you mean? What did you do?”

I was passing the vent overlooking the bedroom again. The fire was rapidly spreading through the room and smoke was starting to fill the duct. “Queen Chrysalis is dead.”

Dead air for a solid five seconds. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah. I can’t say exactly how they’re going to react. They might be willing to surrender, or they might go suicidal on you. I’d say get an initial feel for it, then decide if you’re staying or going. I’ve got my own way out.”

“Understood. We’ll hold tight for now.”

“Good to hear. While you’re at it, get ahold of Dusty or whoever’s awake topside. Tell them they should start stage one evacuations. He’ll know what I mean.”

“...I’ll do that. That sounds bad.”

“You’ll be well away from here before it matters. Also, get ahold of Echo, tell her I need her on alert and ready to start evacuation at a moment’s notice. I’ve got to go now.”

I’d left most of the smoke behind, but it was spreading quickly. Once I had gotten to the utility shaft, I couldn’t even smell it any more. On the other hoof, the Serenity changelings had to be noticing it by now and would very quickly trace it to its source. I scurried down a level, then darted into the vacant hydroponics office I had noted earlier. I locked the door, then transformed into my regal form once more.

This time, there was no hesitation as I reached for the intercom, selecting the public address channel.

“Attention, changelings of Serenity.” My voice echoed strangely through the halls and rooms of the Stable, low and somber. “I’m sorry to inform you that… Queen Chrysalis the Sixth is dead. I regret that it has come to this, and while I’m sure my words carry little weight right now, I know how hard this must be for all of you. I wish there had been some other way.

“I want this bloodshed to be over. Despite everything that has happened, our offer of surrender is still open. Please, let this end. Put down your weapons and surrender, and we can all move on together. There’s been enough death already.”

I hesitated, feeling like I should add more, but no words came. I released the button, the speakers giving a final squeal before going silent. Maybe brevity would help.

With the message complete, I made my way back to where I had stashed the rest of my equipment, retrieving the respirator mask. Then I backtracked, making my way back to the Overmare’s office turned throne room.

The smoke filled the vents, even as the air system struggled to pump in clear air. I cinched the mask snugly over my head, though my form made it an imperfect fit. I had to hold it in place to keep from getting a lungful of smoke when I breathed, and visibility was down to only a couple of yards.

Despite that, I was able to make it back to the vent overlooking the office, now filled with changelings. They’d managed to open the door to Chrysalis’s quarters, and smoke was still wafting out of the open door, though it looked like they’d put out the fire.

The emotions I saw covered the whole spectrum. One of the heavily equipped guards, clad in black-painted Steel Ranger armor, was now just sitting beside the queen’s cushions, staring off into space. Another lay nearby, and from the slow shifting of her head and shoulders, looked to be on the verge of breaking down. A lightly armed soldier paced angrily. Two unarmored changelings were embracing, tears rolling down their cheeks.

Several more changelings emerged from the former queen’s room, looking dazed and exhausted. Others were entering the office from outside, including one I recognized: Ocelli.

She fell on the agitated side, and immediately took control of the scene. She demanded to know what had happened, how their queen could have been killed while locked in her own room. Noling had anything beyond speculation. The working theory was that Echo had teleported in an assassin.

In my earbud, Two Bits reported a hoofful of changelings had fearfully surrendered in one sector, while frantic attacks were launched in others. Every now and then, I could hear the distant thump of an explosion.

At least I had the satisfaction that I might have saved a few more lives, assuming I hadn’t just gotten a lot of ponies killed.

The discussion of how their queen could have been killed was interrupted minutes later when a messenger arrived, looking scared and confused. “Um, I… I’m not sure who to report to.”

There was a moment of confusion before Ocelli stepped forward. “Under the emergency protocols, I am assuming leadership of the hive until a proper chain of command can be established. Report.”

The messenger swallowed and nodded, then spoke. “Guard commanders are reporting a breakdown of order on the simulator level. Most forces are pressing the attack on pony positions, but taking heavy casualties. They’re not sure if they can sustain the pressure, but their soldiers are refusing to stand down. Additionally, one commander reported that a squad under her command has surrendered, and others are discussing whether they should follow suit.”

Ocelli’s eyes widened in rage. “What? Their queen was murdered, and they’re giving themselves over to the filth that did it? Those traitors!” She grabbed the messenger. “What was this commander’s name?”

“C-Coxa, ma’am.”

“Well you go back to Coxa, and tell her that any changelings promoting surrender will be considered to be giving support to our enemies in a time of crisis and are to be shot as traitors!”

“Yes ma’am!”

As the messenger hurried off, Ocelli turned to another soldier. “You! Queen Chrysalis had a plan to take out their alicorn. Are you familiar with it?”

“Yes. She wanted to use a balefire egg to--”

“I know the plan,” Ocelli said. “I want you to find a volunteer to enact it. How soon can you have a volunteer armed and ready to go?”

“Um… ten, fifteen minutes?”

“Good. Make it happen. I want that alicorn dead!”

She quickly nodded and hurried off as well.

I quickly scurried back from the vent until I was confident my whispering wouldn’t be overheard. I huddled around the PipBuck and hit the button to transmit. The respirator mask muffled my words. “Two Bits, this is Whisper.”

“Go.”

“I need you to evacuate immediately. They’re planning on bringing in heavy explosives through the vents with the intent of killing Echo and trapping you. You’ve got ten, maybe fifteen minutes before they start enacting their plan.”

“Shit.” A moment of silence. “Understood. Echo is already here. It’ll be messy if they keep up the pressure like this, but we should be able to evacuate by then.”

I switched to my private channel. “Dusty, are you there?”

A few seconds later, I heard his voice. “Yeah, I’m here. What’s going on down there?”

“The situation is evolving,” I said, a neat non-answer. “Serenity’s new command structure is going to extreme measures more rapidly than I’d hoped. I just told Two Bits to make his exit. You’d better start stage two evacuations.”

“Already?”

“Yes, already.”

“And you’re sure about this?” he asked. “If we do that, there may be no coming back.”

“I understand, and yes, I’m sure.”

I heard him sigh across the radio. “Understood. Stage one and two should be complete in… about thirty minutes. Once Hail Burst is topside, I’ll put the Loyalists on door duty. That should make stage three take… maybe two minutes, tops.”

“Sounds good. Thank you.”

“Uh-huh. And Whisper? Be careful down there.”

I crawled back to the vent. The smoke was already thinning by the time I got there, while even more changelings had gathered in the room below.

Ocelli was discussing strategy with several of the soldiers, discussing plans to crush the remaining ponies once their teleporting alicorn was slain. I cast a glance in their direction. The E.F.S. was full of contact markers, but there was considerably less green there. In fact, there was less green all around. The amount of friendly ponies within range was rapidly dwindling. Before long, I would have little in the way of camouflage.

Several minutes later, the intercom speaker beside the vent came to life with a loud squawk. “All forces! All forces! Commander Coxa has gone rogue! Her unit has engaged friendly forces and is attempting to join the pony intruders!”

“What?!” Ocelli snapped, leaping to her hooves again. She rushed to the intercom, calling out across it, “Stop those traitors at all costs!”

“We’ll try,” came the reply. “Pony forces are falling back in all sectors. I think they’re teleporting out.”

“Well, stop them!” Ocelli shouted, then spun to face the soldier she had been talking with. “How long until the alicorn-killer is in place?”

“I don’t know,” the soldier replied, leaping to her hooves. “I’ll go find out.”

Minutes ticked by. The smoke thinned. Friendly contacts dwindled.

A powerful thump hammered at my ears, the air in the duct blasting one way, then the other. My ears were left ringing. Something massive had exploded.

I scurried back in the duct once more, returning to my broadcaster. “Echo!” I whispered urgently. “Are you there?”

The reply came thankfully swift. “I am. It seems they blew up part of the simulation chamber. I have gotten all of the raiding force out, though Two Bits and a few others were injured in the explosion.”

I gave a quick sigh of relief before a fresh concern mounted. “How bad are they hurt?”

“They will likely live, though Sickle will need several healing potions. Again.”

“...Okay. Get them taken care of and stand by. I’ll probably need extract in about thirty minutes.”

“I will be ready,” she said.

I returned to the vent. It was two minutes before a messenger arrived.

Ocelli was immediately on her hooves. “Well? Did they get that alicorn?”

The messenger hesitated, swallowed, and spoke. “I’m afraid not. They were in the main chamber and engaged our agent when she emerged from the vent. It seems their gunfire detonated the egg prematurely, and the alicorn’s shield protected her.”

“Damn it,” Ocelli grumbled. “What about the rest of them? Did we get anyone?”

“I’m afraid all the ponies have escaped,” the messenger said, shifting her weight subtly from hoof to hoof. “Several ponies were wounded or killed while falling back, though they were able to extract their casualties. We did capture three of our rebelling soldiers, including Commander Coxa. The rest of her unit are either dead or escaped with the ponies.”

Ocelli muttered something far too quiet for me to hear before speaking to the messenger again. “Return to whoever is in charge down there. Inform them that the three prisoners are to be shot immediately. Go.”

The messenger gave a hasty salute and hurried off. She almost ran into the next messenger.

“Commander Ocelli! We just established communications with one of the army scouts, Ghost Two. She’s on one of the landlines. The pony army is pulling out. They’re using the motorwagons to ferry their ponies and about a hundred prisoners to a location roughly four miles away. She also reports that the only forces remaining on-site are about twenty Enclave ponies.”

I glanced around. Sure enough, there was only a single small cluster of green contact indicators.

Ocelli had gone very still, staring off in thought. The soldiers she had been talking with were just starting to speculate when she spun around to face one of them. “Move the megaspell, now. If one of those traitors told that alicorn where it’s being held, she could drop a bomb right on it.”

The soldier’s eyes widened. “Y-yes, right away! Where should we move it?”

“Anywhere else!” Ocelli said, then immediately corrected herself. “No, move it to the entry-level equipment storage. Go, now!”

As that soldier took wing and shot off, Ocelli trotted over to the intercom. “Attention! All active, reserve, and emergency forces are to equip and assemble immediately on the entry level. All unit commanders are to report to the throne room.”

One of the other soldiers followed her. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan is that we outnumber the ponies guarding the hive entrance tens of times over.” She turned to the changeling who had brought in word of the scout, who was now at a terminal with a pair of headphones. “Have we re-established contact with the army?”

“Not by radio. Ghost Two can relay messages, but she says the army is less than fifty strong and completely combat ineffective.”

Ocelli muttered something.

I looked at my PipBuck. It had been about twenty minutes since Dusty had started the evacuation.

Soldiers started to arrive a couple of minutes later. The room steadily grew more crowded with changelings, all asking what was going on. Ocelli sat on the edge of the queen’s cushions, refusing to answer until the last commander had arrived.

Once they had, she stood. “Commanders. We have re-established communications with a topside scout. The pony army has withdrawn from the surface and is regrouping a few miles away. They’ve left only twenty ponies guarding the entrance. They seem to think we are trapped. We are going to prove them wrong.

“I want you to prepare your units for a breakout. When that door opens, we will pour out and overwhelm the ponies guarding it. Once we have done so, we will establish a full presence on the surface. We can not be pushed back into the hive again, even if that means abandoning it. Understood?”

There were nods of assent, firm and confident. Faces still downturned and slack from the loss of their queen were looking up as a glimmer of hope returned.

“How soon can you be prepared to move out?”

“We should be fully prepared within an hour,” one of the commanders said, and several others nodded.

“Good, because once we have secured the entrance of our hive, we must deal with their army,” Ocelli paced before them. “We still have the megaspell. Many of our sisters gave their lives to deliver it to us. Now we must be ready to give our lives to use it. Commander, how many soldiers do each of your units have?”

She had stopped in front of one of the soldiers, who replied, “About forty, ma’am.”

“Good,” she said, nodding as she resumed her pacing. “Their army is gathering together just a few miles from our hive. I need four volunteers, whose units will ensure that the megaspell is delivered to that army, regardless of the cost.”

She stopped, staring at them with a fierce glare. “We have come so close to losing everything, but we have this one opportunity to reclaim our future. If we are able to destroy this army, then we will have won, and all the death we have suffered will have guaranteed a future where we are never put under the hooves of ponies, ever again. We can not fail our sisters. We can not fail our slain queen.” She raised her head, standing proud. “Who is willing to take up this duty?”

Sure, I saw signs of hesitation and deep breaths to build up courage, but one by one, all ten stepped forward.

Ocelli smiled, small and proud. “We only need four,” she said, and proceeded to pick four herself. She stopped by the closest, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. “Today, through your effort, we will reclaim our destiny. You will bear down on their army like the swarms of old and deliver destruction to our enemies. The hive’s future rides on your shoulders.”

The commander before her held her head high, her eyes bright and eager. “We will not fail. For Queen Chrysalis and the hive!”

The others carried the cheer. And Ocelli stepped back, smiling. “I’m proud of all of you. Now go, prepare your soldiers, and let us repay these ponies for every wrong they have dealt us!”

The commanders cheered again and turned to leave. Their heads were held high as they marched out, even those who had just been condemned to death. Ocelli remained in the office-turned-throne-room, watching with a proud smile, like a miniature queen.

The door shut. Ocelli’s smile slid away, replaced with a grim expression. She turned to the changelings gathered nearby. “We should discuss contingency plans. These ponies have proven far too tricky to count on this attack succeeding. Aphid, how quickly can we enact evacuation protocols?”

The changeling in question shifted awkwardly on her hooves. “With the emergency defense ‘lings called up, we’re short-staffed. In ideal situations, we would need only half an hour. With current numbers, I think we’d need at least an hour. Maybe two.”

Ocelli was silent for several long seconds. “Hypothetical. Assume only one hundred of our combat forces remain, from the emergency forces, along with all remaining non-combat population. Would that be sufficient to take Mareford?”

Another changeling checked her PipBuck. “Given the last reports after the army’s departure, they have only armed civilians for defense. I’d give a pessimistic estimate of twenty four hours to pacify the entire settlement, with minimal losses, assuming we want to take all ponies and structures intact.”

“We won’t be able to hold it,” another changeling noted. “Not if their army survives.”

“We don’t need to hold it,” Ocelli said. “We just need to take a few dozen ponies to feed on and any supplies we might want. We can destroy the rest and move on. Let their army starve.”

There were nods of agreement all around. “Good,” Ocelli said. “Aphid, begin evacuation protocols. This pony-made shelter has served us for many generations, but its usefulness is at an end. We no longer need to hide.”

I had been so focused on her words that I didn’t hear the soft clattering until the large radroach rounded the corner of the duct, just five feet from me. It had come from the duct that served only the queen’s chambers and was wearing a PipBuck.

I immediately had my gun out and firing before the radroach could fully recognize the situation she had stumbled into. Four rapid-fire rounds smashed into her, and with a flash of green flame, the radroach was replaced by the crumpled form of a changeling jammed into a duct far too small for her.

“The hell?” someone blurted from below. “Were those gunshots?”

I grabbed my equipment, turned, and scurried away as fast as I could. I could already hear shouts, and seconds later, the duct lit up with vivid flashes of green and red as soldiers fired into the vent mere feet behind me.

I rounded a corner, now outside of the room, which put a solid wall between me and them. Still, I didn’t stop. There weren’t enough friendly contacts to hide me. Now that they knew I was there, they would have no trouble tracking the lone hostile contact.

The duct routed through more walls, then hit an intersection. As I continued on, I pulled off my respirator mask, pressing my broadcaster’s button with my magic. “Echo, are you there?”

“I am. Is it time to go?”

“Yes! Tell Dusty to start stage three evacuations right now!”

“I will.” There were several long seconds of silence as I hit the central utility shaft, sliding down the duct for several levels. “He says they will begin evacuating immediately. The Loyalists should be at a safe distance in two minutes.”

I heard the deep, earth-shaking rumble from above. Stage one had been the initial movement of half the army to establish a new camp a safe distance away, as well as all the heavy equipment. Stage two had been the removal of the rest of the army, leaving only a small force to keep the door shut. Now that stage three was enacted, those ponies were now speeding off, but not without leaving one last obstacle for Serenity. The rumble I heard was the sound of fifty pounds of strategically placed explosives collapsing the exit tunnel. The door to Serenity should now be buried behind a few hundred tons of concrete.

Serenity could dig their way out, of course. This move would only delay them, but it was more of a delay than I would need.

“Echo, I’m almost to the extraction point. I need you to disable the jammer and meet me there.”

“A building just fell on the jammer,” she said. “It is as disabled as it is going to get.”

“Good!”

I scrambled down another series of ducts. My trip down the utility shaft obscured what level I was on, but it bought me very little time. They would eventually find me, even if it required searching every level.

I heard sharp cracks from ahead, but I didn’t slow. When I finally got to the vent leading to the storage room I had chosen as my extract point, I burst out of the duct, only to be immediately caught in a field of magic. Echo stood there, grim-faced, with the smoldering corpses of two changelings beside her.

“Ready to go?”

“Wait!” I said, calling up my magic and transforming into my regal form. I dropped out of Echo’s magic, cushioning my fall with a quick flutter of my wings, and hastily latched my PipBuck onto my leg. I called up the time. I still needed another minute.

I floated up Queen Chrysalis’s stolen PipBuck. A quick check confirmed the radio settings, and I hit the button to transmit. “Ocelli, this is Queen Whisper. Please respond.”

My heart hammered. Several seconds later, the radio came to life. “I can’t wait for them to bring me your corpse.”

“This isn’t going to end the way you think it will,” I said. “My offer still stands, but we are out of time. This is your last opportunity. Please. For the good of your hive and the hundreds of changelings that will perish with you, surrender.”

“Save your empty threats,” Ocelli said, her voice practically a growl. “I will never fall for your treacherous words again.”

A bang drew my attention back to reality. Echo’s shield was up, having just taken a shot from a changeling at the door. She responded with a blast of electricity and followed it up by hurtling a heavily laden shelf at the door, thoroughly blocking it.

I turned back to the broadcaster. “This isn’t a threat, Ocelli. This is an inevitability. I’ve tried everything I could to save lives, but you are forcing my hoof. If you do not surrender, every changeling within this hive will die.”

“You are a coward and a liar,” Ocelli said. “We will never surrender to you.”

The rapid discharge of multiple magical energy weapons filled the air, blowing away parts of the shelves blocking the door. The angle left us safe, but it wouldn’t hold long. Echo threw another shelf onto the heap. “We need to go!” she snarled.

I looked down at the clock. It was time.

I took a deep breath, and sighed it out. Then I pressed the broadcast key one last time. “I’m sorry.”

Then I lowered the stolen PipBuck, and took the detonator in my magic. A quick look confirmed it was on the correct channel.

A sharp bang filled the air, muffled by Echo’s shield. Some Serenity soldier had tried throwing a grenade in past the shelves, to no avail.

I moved the switch from “Safe” to “Arm.” The red light lit.

My heart hammered. Several magical bolts slammed into the toppled shelving as the Serenity soldiers continued to try and clear the door. Echo shoved another pair of metal chests into the pile.

I flipped the safety, unblocking the trigger.

“Echo.”

Her head snapped around, eyes narrowed in grim determination. I turned the detonator so she could see it clearly.

I hit the trigger.

“Now.”

With a flash of purple, we were gone.