Like almost everything in the Crystal Empire, the accommodations were made almost solidly out of crystal. The suite that Starlight and her friends had been provided had walls that appeared not to have been carved out of crystal so much as grown, and even with a matte surface finish they still glittered and sparkled luxuriously.

For Darien, of course, this only led to further agitation. The spaces were large enough for him to move through without excessive difficulty- -something he had been warned was always a problem in societies built by exceedingly tiny aliens- -but the lack of trees and nature was disconcerting, and the sheer amount of strange crystal was overwhelming for a being who had never even traveled farther than the market where his family sold their crops.

Still, it was Zedok who had told him to come, and she was superior to him. Therefore, he did his best to stay calm, in part by pacing through halls and empty rooms of the space that he and the others had been given.

At one point, he stopped in a room that appeared to be dedicated toward dining. Bored, he opened a drawer- -being careful not to tear it off, as the crystal looked quite delicate- -and found that it was filled with forks. He picked one of the tiny utensils and examined it.

“Why would tiny-horse need such thing?” he asked to himself. “What practical purpose is served?”

“Suggestion: it is used to eat.”

Darien jumped so high that he nearly reached the ceiling, spilling utensils and appliances as he instinctively tried and failed to climb onto the counter. He turned around in fright to see a silver-colored quadruped pulling itself out from beneath the table that filled the center of the room.

“Geth!” he wheezed. “PLEASE do not do that!”

“Do what?” asked Armchair, tilting his head slightly.

“Also that. Not that. You are…unnerving. But, mainly, do not sneak up on me. I cannot smell you, not easily. Oh, my hearts. So much beating.”

“Ah,” said Armchair, considering. “Yes. Our sudden appearance is startling. And our nature is, perhaps, confusing to you? Geth records indicate that your people are barely post-industrial. A synthetic life-form must seem strange indeed.”

“Correct. But I can tolerate you. Just stop frightening me.”

“If you are afraid of us, then how to we stop…oh. Alteration of behavior.” It pointed to its chest, the part of it that was not metal. “We are already developing geometrically with Arachne’s help. Indeed, yahg-Darien, you are helping greatly.”

“Just Darien is fine.”

“Indeed, Just-Darien, you are helping greatly.”

Darien groaned, and crossed the room. He looked out the window on the far side of the wall, down at the streets filled with crystalline horses and several other types of creature going about their business. He had thought he was mentally prepared for aliens. Zedok, Fenok, and Lyra were already strange, but this was just too much.

“A question, however,” said Armchair. “Our records also indicate that the yahg are normally highly violent in nature. Of course, our records are not always accurate. We once recorded that a space-hamster Councilor had been elected by the space-hamster federation, when in fact, the space-hamster federation had not yet held any manner of elections for the position.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“Neither can we.”

“And none of those were questions. Merely statements.”

“Ah. Yes. Rephrasing: why are you not trying to kill us?”

“Why? Largely because your perception of violence is…simplistic. And your impression of us is wrong.”

“Did the yahg not slaughter the Council delegation sent to offer peaceful coexistence?”

“No. A group of soldiers responded to an alien invasion, and after those same aliens- -the small ones, the salarians- -have a history of abducting and torturing my people. The response was predictable.”

“But you are not observed as having any violent tendencies.”

“Because I do not. Such is not common in my caste, and disagrees with the Column.”

“Column?”

“Translation. Poor. Adequate, though. It is…religion? No. Ideology.”

“We do not understand. Yahg believe structures are not part of our records.”

“Not a belief. A truth. The Column is stratified. Some yahg are born to rule. A great many, even, and they fight over that position. Me, and my kind, no. We are not born to rule. We were born farmers. I, and we, have no desire to transcend our caste. No desire to challenge. Instead, to excel within our level and be content even at the lowest rank.”

Armchair paused to consider, processing the data. “The concept you describe is not unlike the human belief in dharma. We understand its implications, but cannot relate.”

“Surely you have a similar hierarchy in your society.”

“No. We have no society. Only consensus. All geth are one voice of many. All equal. All speaking, arguing, discussing. None higher or lower. We are many, and become one.”

“Zedok explained it to me, once,” said Darien, not admitting that he had not understood. “How many are you, then, Armchair?”

Armchair paused. “Unknown,” he finally said.

There was a knock on the doorframe to the room- -or, since it was crystal, a kind of high tinkling sound. Several of Darien’s eyes rotated and identified a familiar blue face.

“Boss,” he said, approaching Zedok.

Zedok was leaning on the wall and smiled. “Explaining the Column to the geth?”

“We are learning!” said Armchair.

“You know what happens when geth learn, right?”

Armchair paused for a long moment. Then exclaimed “death to quarians!”

“What is a quarian?” asked Darien, confused.

“Pure, distilled evil,” said Armchair.

“Yeah,” said Zedok. “Quarians are jerks. And nobody likes them.”

“But I like everybody,” said Darien.

“Aww. Of course you do!” Zedok hugged him as best as she could considering the height difference. She then sat down at the table, pushing her chair back at an angle. “So, hey, do they have food here or what? Or is that crystal too?”

“I can’t even tell,” said Darien. “And why do the ponies have forks?”

“To eat. Duh. How hard do you think it is to grab food with hooves? Of course you need a fork.”

“Oh. That doesn’t…never mind.”

“What about you, Armchair? Did you find food?”

“We did. But then we ate it.”

“But you’re a geth!”

“Now that we have rachni organic components, we need to periodically eat. It has been an unusual experience. The algorithms necessary to differentiate ‘food’ from ‘edible’ are surprisingly elusive.”

“Wow, real biological functions. If this keeps up, we’ll need to get you a lady geth.”

“We are a lady geth.”

Zedok coughed and nearly fell backward out of her chair. “What- -how- -WHAT?”

“That was a joke,” said Armchair.

“And by your reaction, boss,” said Darien. “I think it may have been successful.”

“Yeah, yeah. You got me. But seriously…are you a dude geth or a chick geth?”

“We are geth.”

“That’s what I thought.” Zedok looked up at Darien. “Darien, have you seen Lyra? She seemed agitated, and I want to check on her.”

“No,” said Darien.

“Oh.” Zedok rocked her chair back and forth for a moment, but then became aware of the sound of footsteps in the hall outside the room. “Freaky,” she said, “you say her name and she shows up…”

Except that the footsteps did not sound like those of mechanical, digitigrade claws. They were softer and more even. Zedok shivered. It was as though someone was trying to sneak up on them.

Her slight apprehension vanished, however, when Jack entered the room.

“Jack!” said Zedok, standing up. “You made it back! We were getting worried. Well, Darien was. I wasn’t. Because you are, you know, YOU. I knew…” Zedok paused, and her apprehension immediately returned. “Jack? What happened to your hair?”

The younger version of Jack stared at Zedok. It was more than her hair. She appeared far younger, and her normally silver eyes looked normal apart from the glaring blue-green irises.

“Because it’s not me,” said the real Jack, pushing past the younger version.

The occupants of the room just stared, looking from one to the other.

“Okay,” said Zedok. “I guess I’m going to be the first to say it, but what the ACTUAL- -”

“Shapeshifters,” sighed Jack. “They apparently have them here.”

“Changeling,” corrected the other Jack. “I am a changeling. There is a difference.”

“A changeling is a type of fairy or demon that is exchanged for an infant in its crib,” stated Armchair, apparently reading it from some manner of internal dictionary. “The false-child then grows strong on the love of the foster parents. We do not know what happens to the infant. We assume it is eaten.”

“So you eat children?” said Zedok.

“No more than you do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The second Jack smiled, but did not answer the question. “I am Viceroy Chrysalis. Princess Cadence has in her, well, infinite wisdom to add caring for you as one of my numerous duties.”

“Do you have to look like Jack, though? It’s creepy. You even sound like her.”

“I don’t have to. But I like this form. It makes me feel powerful and sexy.”

“Trust me,” said Jack. “It gets old fast.” She crossed the room and leaned against one of the crystal walls. Her silver eyes never left Chrysalis.

“In a literal sense? No. I will never age. When I tire of your skin, I will find a new one.” She looked up at Darien and smiled. “I like him. Very imposing. Maybe I will take that form next.”

“You are welcome to take our form,” said Armchair. “We could use the company.”

Chrysalis looked at the geth, seeming to notice it for the first time, and then took a step back with an expression of unparalleled disgust on her face.

“What’s the matter, Chrissy? You don’t like geth?” said Jack.

“That’s not the point,” said Chrysalis. She cleared her throat and regained her composure. “What I bothered to come all the way out here to explain is that Princess Cadence has extended a gracious offer to the Core-unicorn Starlight Glimmer, and she has accepted.”

“What kind of offer?” asked Zedok.

“Simply to stay here for several days, to see what our glorious Empire has to offer her. As such, you as her entourage are free to wander about the Empire as you see fit.”

“Finally,” said Darien. He immediately started walking toward the door. “I need to get to the surface. Trees, air, sky. Fuzzy creatures. This place, it causes me depression indoors.”

“If you are approaching the surface, avoid areas inhabited by the thorians,” noted Chrysalis. She shrugged. “Or don’t, if you like dying.”

“Where is Starlight?” asked Zedok, becoming increasingly suspicious of Chrysalis. Something was wrong about her. It was not just that she looked like Jack. It was something about the way she moved. It was nearly imperceptible, but when she would gesture or walk she would not move quite naturally. Her motions were just barely unsmooth, and just slightly jerky, and her joints seemed not quite to be assembled correctly beneath her business-casual attire. It was as though an enormous insect were wearing Jack’s skin.

“You think I murdered your friend. Perhaps ate her?”

“No. I just don’t trust people who don’t show their face.”

Chrysalis pointed at her head, smiling with pointed teeth. “It’s right here, mortal.”

“I’m liking you less and less,” said Jack.

“You’re not supposed to like me. Starlight Glimmer is currently with the Archgeneral. The turian departed on the way here, apparently wishing to visit a library. For some reason. And the Questlord was already gone by the time we returned. Needless to say, Flash Sentry will be receiving a thorough beating for allowing her to leave before the Princess’s order arrived.”

“A beating?” asked Armchair. “To death?”

“Probably not, no. Why?”

“Because then you would be beating a dead horse!”

Nobody laughed.

“Um…why would I be beating him after he dies? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Just ignore it,” said Jack.

“He’s still new to the whole ‘humor’ thing.”

“Clearly,” said Chrysalis. “And I would strongly recommend not saying something like that to any ponies. It is morbid.”

“Oh. We apologize.”

“I’m a changeling. Not a pony.”

“We already covered that,” said Jack. “Now could you PLEASE stop looking like me?”

“You are just angry because I look better than you ever did. Those ridiculous tattoos…”

“I like those tattoos,” said Zedok.

“Of course you do.” Chrysalis sighed, and started toward the door. “I’m going to be here if you need help with anything. Because I have to. Just don’t break anything.”

She left, and Zedok looked at Jack, who did not seem at all happy.

“Well, she seemed nice,” said Armchair, apparently having been oblivious to the entire tone of the conversation.

“I’ve met worse,” said Jack, pushing herself off from the wall. She started walking toward the door as well, giving Chrysalis more than enough time to get out of sight. “Zed,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go do something. I’m so damn BORED. Do you think crystal ponies have alcohol?”

“No idea.”

“Then let’s find out.”

They left together, leaving Armchair alone in the room. After several minutes, he came to a consensus and crawled back under the table to continue whatever it was he had been doing in the first place.

Elsewhere, Beri Tyros approached the counter of a facility that she had been assured was a library. Sitting behind the counter was a rather thin looking blue pony wearing a headband around his long hair.

“You,” said Beri. “You are the librarian?”

“Librarian? Oh, no. I don’t think I could call myself a full-fleged librarian quite yet,” he said, blushing. “I just work the front desk for now. My names’s Crystal Hoof. How can I help you?”

“I need books.”

“Books? Well, you’ve come to the right place!”

“Really…” Beri looked around the wide, circular room and saw that despite the benches and desks on both the floor and the mezzanine, there were no visible books. That, combined with the fact that Crystal Hoof seemed not to notice that she was an alien, made the entire situation come across as almost surreal.

“Oh, yes. The Imperium Library is a joint project between the Divine Princess Cadence and her sister-in-law, the Core Princess Twilight Sparkle. We are dedicated to the mission of helping our nations learn about each other to foster lasting peace.” He looked past Beri at the empty benches. “Of course…not a lot of ponies really want to learn about Equestria…”

“I will need approximately twenty children’s books,” said Beri. “And also historical records concerning the war between your Empire and Equestria.”

“War history is one of our specialties. But it’s a pretty broad topic. Anything in particular? Ancient galacto-politics, perhaps? Special warfare tactics? A visual dictionary of starships throughout the ages? Something on, oh, I don’t know, the role of changeling special-ops during the latter half of the conflict? That one is one of my favorites.”

“No. I’m looking for records on a particular solider. Lyra Heartstrings, on the Equestria side.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll see what I can do. We do offer declassified records. Is she a relative of yours?”

“Yes,” lied Beri.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for what she must have gone through,” said Crystal Hoof. Behind the rim of the counter, he was doing something that was obscured from Beri’s view. “Okay. Yes, there are a few things. I’m adding them. Is that it?”

“Yes. For now.”

“Here you go, then.” Crystal Hoof extended one of his hoofs, which contained tiny sliver of crystal.

Beri took it, and found that it was oddly heavy. “What is this?”

“What you asked for. The records and twenty of our best-read children’s books.”

“And how am I supposed to use this? Do I eat it?”

“NO! No! Don’t do that! Whatever you do, don’t eat one of those. I’ve seen what it did to a pony…”

“What did it do?”

He shook his head. “You don’t want to know.” He leaned to his side and pointed at the desks toward the edge of the room. “If you don’t have a reader, you can use the terminals over there.”

“Right…”

Beri crossed the room and sat down in one of the tiny, pony-sized chairs. Not only was it undignified, but the system she was given to use was also adapted for pony anatomy instead of that of a turian. Regardless of how awkward and unpleasant it was, though, it was still better and easier to use than anything that humans had ever constructed.

It took several minutes for Beri to figure out how to insert the crystal sliver into the system, but once she did, she set to work reviewing the children’s books. Despite her young age and lack of financial support from the Council, she was still a spectre, and a turian one at that. Generally, her specialty was full-force combat, but she had also trained in cryptology and stenography as well as the various skills that would be required for operations that required greater subtlety than could be accomplished with a zetan pistol.

After four or five hours, Beri had for the most part mastered the Equestrian written language. It was not exceedingly complex, but like their chairs it had been adapted for a different sort of biology. Whereas almost all known species used their hands to write, the ponies had been forced to find a different method and their text represented that.

The books themselves were not uninteresting, either. After learning how to actually read them, Beri found that several were blatant propaganda about not trusting Equestria or supporting Cadence. A few, though, were what appeared to be fairy-tales or didactic stories. Two also appeared to be historical in nature, with one involving ponies in a sort of fantasy world interacting with some manner of monstrous biped and another that covered the subject of a historical figure called King Sombra who was apparently as feared as he was revered.

Once the knowledge of the language was cemented in her mind, though, Beri moved on to the information she actually wanted to read. The documents that she had been given were variable and diverse, ranging from simple Equestrian records to occasional articles from newspapers or magazines. Some involved other Lyra’s- -it was apparently not an uncommon name- -and some of the later documents were heavily redacted.

There was enough, though.

There was a roar of energy as a crystal starship passed at immense speed, racing through the central corridors of the Imperium on its way to the surface. Even at a distance, Starlight felt the wind coming off it and shielded her eyes with a hoof.

“See, I told you,” said Flurry Heart, smiling broadly.

“They certainly are quick,” said Starlight. That was hardly the impressive part, though. She looked back to where the unmanned vessel had come from to the endless racks that held countless hundreds of thousands of more like it. Many were nearly identical: roughly spherical, spiny, and around forty feet in diameter. Others were larger, though, and several had different shapes. Some were monocrystalline, and some actually looked roughly like actual spacecraft. A few were gigantic, filling up most of the space between the floor and the half-mile high ceiling of the hanger. Those seemed to have their own outlet channels, and as far as Starlight knew, they were unmanned as well.

“And the Imperium has three hundred and eighty seven hangers just like this one,” boasted Flurry Heart. “But that’s just Mother’s central defense fleet. Out in the galaxy there are many, many more.”

“How many?”

“Millions,” said Flurry Heart, shrugging.

She led Starlight to a different part of the facility. Far below, Starlight could see a much smaller and flatter hanger. Crystal ponies were walking through it, each dressed in protective uniforms. After a moment, a crystal starship appeared, roaring into the room with a distinctive warbling hiss. A small group followed it, and each of the secondary ships spread out to delicate-looking pedestals. The central ship hovered in place and then landed in the center of the floor. As the crew moved in to inspect and care for it, the crystal shifted and a flight-suited crystal pony dropped out of the bottom.

“So you control more than one,” said Starlight. She looked at the small alicorn beside her. “How many?”

“All pilots need to be able to control at least ten,” said Flurry Heart. “That’s just to sign up. I, of course, can hold thirty six.”

“Impressive.”

“I guess so. I could do more, but I need to coordinate the other ponies too. If it were just me out there, I could do at least a hundred.” She paused. “Of course, that’s still nothing compared to the High Exemplar.”

“The High Exemplar?”

“Yeah. The best we have. He once commanded two hundred and seventy three independent vessels, including six heavy bombers. Not in some demonstration, either. That was in the Battle of the Dying Star. He did that in actual combat.”

“That’s actually somewhat terrifying.”

“To our enemies, yes.” Flurry Heart led Starlight away from the noise of the ships as more came into the nearby hangers, returning from a practice run. “But I think you have potential, too.”

“Me?”

“I’ve never seen somepony survive that much magic from Mother before. To be honest…well, I was holding my breath the whole time. I knew you were powerful, but not that much.”

“It’s not entirely me,” admitted Starlight. “I have a lot of implants that amplify my ability.”

“But it’s still your ability, isn’t it?” Flurry Heart paused and looked up at Starlight. “I’ll be totally honest with you, Starlight. I want you.”

“I don’t do fillies,” said Starlight. “Sorry.”

“What? No.” Flurry Heart shook her head. “For my military. As a pilot. I think you could add so much to my team!”

“Me?” said Starlight. “You do realize I’m a Core, right?”

“So what?” Flurry Heart seemed confused by that remark. “Well, I guess that’s part of it. Almost all of our pilots are crystal ponies. There are unicorns in the Empire, but not many at all. Crystal ponies are durable, but they don’t have an independent source of magic. They can operate faster than unmared ships, but they still use Mother’s magic. You wouldn’t have to.”

“I see,” said Starlight, feeling her mood darken. “So you just want to use me as fuel.”

“Fuel? No!” Flurry Heart pointed to herself. “It’s the same ability I have! The High Exemplar and I both have our own magic, and so do you! You wouldn’t just be powering the ship. You’d be with us. As an equal.”

Starlight smiled. “You’re really manipulative, aren’t you.”

Flurry Heart shrugged. “I try. But in all seriousness. I like you. And I really hope that you take Mother’s offer.”

Starlight did not answer. She smiled and continued to follow Flurry Heart, not wanting to tell the alicorn filly that her mind was made up, and that it had been since the moment the offer was made.

Still, the little filly was at least mildly endearing, so Starlight stayed with her, listening to her stories and occasional bragging as she was led through the facility. In its own way, the whole set of events was funny. Flurry Heart did not even seem to have considered the idea that Starlight might have wanted to see what life would actually be like in the Crystal Empire. She insisted on showing Starlight the mechanical aspects of the military that she was supposedly in charge of, as if that was the main draw of Cadence’s offer. This was cute- -until Starlight realized that there was a strong chance that at her age, Flurry Heart may not have actually ever experienced any elements of the world outside of preparing for an apocalyptic war.

That war itself, of course, was what truly concerned Starlight, if only on an academic level. She had understood that there had been a war between the Crystal Empire and Equestria. From what she could gather, the ship that she had originally been enslaved within- -several pieces of which were now grafted into her body- -had likely been intended to take part in the ongoing conflict should the armistice be broken.

What this mass of military might implied, though, was that there was at least an equal armada on the Equestrian side. For five years, Starlight had thought her progress had been good. Not perfect- -she had witnessed at least a piece of the Equestrian Fleet- -but now she saw that every advancement she had made was almost meaningless in the face the challenge she would no doubt face in attempting to free her people. Of course, she was also aware that with her mission complete there was now a piece of Reaper technology awaiting her back on the Citadel that might just turn the tide in her favor.

When Starlight finally returned to paying attention to the disproportionately large-winged filly in front of her, she found herself wandering through large, empty corridors deep within the Imperium.

“- -and that means that if my Mother does complete her apotheosis, I would have to take a larger role in ruling.”

“What, you mean like dying?”

“Silly mortal. Mother is an alicorn. She can’t die.” Flurry Heart’s expression shifted slightly, as if what she had just said was not entirely true.

“Second question,” said Starlight, trying to lighten the mood. “Those wings- -”

“THEY ARE NOT BIG!”

“Whoa,” said Starlight, taking a step back. “Not what I was going to ask. It’s just that I haven’t met very many winged ponies.” Starlight felt her jaw clench remembering one of the very few that she had. Her hatred for that particular gray mare had not lessened since their last meeting, and Starlight doubted that it ever would. “I just wanted to know if the wings, you know, actually work.”

Flurry Heart blinked. “Well, yes. Of course they work.” Flurry Heart Spread her exorbitantly large wings and flapped them. The force of such enormous appendages moving through the air put her off balance, but with some difficulty she was able to lift herself into the air.

“Wow,” said Starlight. “You really can fly.”

“I know,” she said, self-satisfied. “And I’m actually good at it, naturally. That’s just another one of the perks of being born an alicorn. I get magic, and I get to- -”

Starlight surrounded herself with blue light and lifted into the air. As soon as Flurry Heart saw this, her eyes became wider than any eyes that Starlight had ever seen.

“Dy- -dynamic self-levitation? You- -you can do that?”

“I can project an entire starship out of my spine. This isn’t even hard.”

Flurry Heart smirked. “ Well, it’s a neat trick. But let’s see what you can do with it.”

She brought her wings down and tilted, darting off suddenly through the corridor. Starlight adjusted her field and accelerated herself after the small pony. A chase ensued. It was immediately apparent that Flurry Heart was a pilot, but also that she was not especially good at flying under her own power. Her wings were simply too large, and although they were good for gliding, every time she turned it seemed as though she were about to slam into a wall. Starlight, meanwhile, was able to move with absolute precision. She could have easily passed Flurry Heart, but the filly seemed to be having so much fun that Starlight instead stayed just close enough to keep her pushing.

Eventually, Starlight slowed and came to a rest. Flurry Heart continued forward, not noticing that Starlight had left the race. She was laughing, and seeing that made Starlight happy- -and sad. Like every chain of her thoughts, her mind came back to her nature as a Core. She found herself wondering if she would have had foals if she had been allowed to remain a normal unicorn instead of being reduced to a component of a ship built to fight these very ponies.

She continued after Flurry Heart in a trot, but eventually slowed to a walking pace when she realized that there was no way for her to catch up with the filly short of teleporting- -which, of course, was impossible in the Crystal Galaxy.

As she passed a hallway intersection, though, she became aware of a pony standing in the perpendicular hallway. Other ponies in this facility were uncommon but not rare; they were mostly crystal ponies, the workers and crew that kept the pilots’ ships in order but seemed almost never to go to where the main fleet was stored. They usually stopped to salute Flurry Heart, or looked at Starlight with mild amusement.

This one, however, spoke.

“Starlight Glimmer?” he said.

Starlight suddenly felt cold. The way he said it was strange and uncertain, as though there was a hint of recognition beyond the dispatch that Cadence had surely given her subordinates. Starlight stopped walking and turned toward the secondary hallway and found herself facing a unicorn at a distance. She recognized him by his flight-suit as the unicorn who had stared at her earlier, and she felt herself shiver.

“I am,” she said, calmly but with a heavy note of suspicion. “Who wants to know?”

“Sweet Celestia,” he whispered. “It…I didn’t think it was possible, but it is. It is you.”

He took a step forward and Starlight took a step back. She charged her horn and pointed it at him.

“Don’t come any closer. I don’t know you, and I don’t want to. I WILL kill you if I have to. You wouldn’t be the first, and you won’t be the last.”

“Starlight, it’s me!” He reached toward the full-face mask he wore and disengaged the interlock that held it into his suit. He levitated the largely featureless surface away from his face with his magic and blinked in response to the light around him. Then he looked up at Starlight with his large blue eyes and smiled.

At first, Starlight felt no recognition of this pony- -but then it all came to her at once, slamming into her mind and dredging up the faded and damaged memories of the time before she had been a Core. His orange coat, the white spot in the center of his face, his red-orange mane and beard- -Starlight knew this pony.

“Sunburst?”

He smiled, and this time Starlight allowed him to approach. As he did, she saw the implants in the side of his forehead, and realized that what she had taken for part of his flight-suit was actually an array of exposed implants emerging from his spine. They were almost identical to Starlight’s own.

A fluttering of wings approached from down the hall.

“Starlight, why did you stop?” said Flurry Heart, landing awkwardly. She was out of breath but smiling. “I’m assuming because you got tired, of course. I am pretty hard to beat when it comes to flying.” She looked up at Sunburst, and her smile got much wider.

“High Exemplar Sunburst!” she said, bounding up to him and saluting.

“Flurry Heart,” said Sunburst, hugging her. “Oh my, you’re all sweaty.”

“I was flying. As you recommended.”

“I did suggest you try flying,” admitted Sunburst. “But not indoors. I was hoping you would go outside. Perhaps practice with some Pegasi, or griffons.” He sighed. “Well, either way. Flying with your real wings will pay off when it comes to flying with crystal. If I could practice without a fighter, I certainly would.”

“Starlight can fly, though.” Flurry Heart suddenly backpedaled. “Not that- -not that you couldn’t if you wanted to.” Flurry Heart then seemed to realize that Starlight was standing behind her. “Oh! This is Starlight Glimmer! A potential recruit for my forces.”

“We’ve met,” said Starlight, softly.

Flurry Heart blinked. “But…how?”

“Back on Equestria Prime,” said Sunburst. “When we were children. Before…”

He did not need to finish the sentence. Starlight knew what had happened to them both, and to countless thousands of other young unicorns. The secret police had come in the night and taken them away to be made into Cores. From what Starlight had been told by the mare who had led the operation, though, was that Sunburst had been their original target- -she had been incidental.

“Sunburst…they told me you died.”

Sunburst’s expression darkened. “I don’t know who you could have talked to who knew that, but whoever it was, he- -or she- -is not wrong.” He looked down at Flurry Heart, who was looking up in rapt attention. He sighed, and then turned his eyes toward Starlight, who felt her own eyes starting to water. “I was a failed Core. Do you know what they do with failures, Starlight?”

Starlight shook her head.

“They dump us into a star. With the rest of the trash. So that pirates and criminals can’t get parts to build their own ships. I was stronger than the others, though. Even though I failed…I was what they call ‘moribund’.”

“But they were going to throw you away anyway? Just…just like that?”

Sunburst nodded. “I was just trash. Broken and dying, lying in a heap of other failed Cores. Too weak to stand, or even cry out.”

“You weren’t trash,” said Starlight. “None of you were.”

“If only that were true. But we were, Starlight. Hazardous medical waste.”

“But then what happened?” asked Flurry Heart.

“As I said, Cores are valuable. Even dead ones. We were attacked by pirates. They didn’t have any empathy for any of us, but as a marginally alive Core, I was too valuable to throw away but too useless for them to put to their own use. This was during the War, of course. So they sold me. To the Crystal Empire.”

“I’m sorry,” said Starlight, wiping her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry about, Starlight? If anything, I escaped a terrible fate. They helped me here. Cadence helped me. But you…” He took a deep breath. “I always knew that they took you too. I’ve thought about you nearly every day. In my mind, you were always trapped in one of those infernal ships. Some nights, I would cry. Because I got out, but I couldn’t take you with me. And every Equestrian ship I destroyed…I was terrified that you were in one of them.”

“It took me a lot longer,” said Starlight. “And even then, it was only by accident. My ship was destroyed, and a group of aliens found me in the wreckage. And when they woke me up…”

“It was like no time had passed at all.”

Starlight smiled. “It feels like…to me, it feels like just a few years ago. When we would play together. You were my best friend…”

Starlight felt herself moving, and then found herself nearly tackling Sunburst with a hug. As she did, her eyes fell onto the implants that covered his back. More memories came flooding back to her, ones that she had thought had been taken from her. Of laughing and playing and their various adventures- -and the lives they sometimes talked about having when they grew up. When she remembered that, Starlight began sobbing.

“You shouldn’t- -you shouldn’t have been a Core!” she wailed. “Why- -why would they do that to you? Oh- -Sunburst!”

Sunburst did not say anything. He did not need to.

Eventually Starlight mostly calmed down. She leaned back from Sunburst, and felt terribly embarrassed. As soon as she saw his face, though, she knew that she did not need to be.

“I never thought I’d see you again, Starlight,” he said. “We have so much catching up to do. That is, if you want to.”

“Of course, Sunburst.” Starlight wiped her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Not for a while, anyway.”

Sunburst smiled and turned his attention to Flurry Heart. “Why don’t you come with us, Flurry Heart?”

“Me?”

“Is there another Flurry Heart in here?”

“No. It’s just that…” Flurry Heart shook her head. “Never mind. Sure. I really like your stories, and I know you’re going to tell Starlight lots and lots of them.”

“You must have heard my stories a hundred times by now. Perhaps Starlight has some interesting ones as well? I’d love to hear them.”

“Well…I guess I can try to listen to them,” said Flurry Heart, pouting slightly.

Sunburst laughed, and he and Starlight fell into step as Flurry Heart bounded forward.

Miles above, on the surface of the Imperium, Lyra Heartstrings walked slowly through a park. There were not many ponies around, and Lyra was glad for it. Looking at the crystal ponies made her sick. Every one of them she saw brought back memories of the war and what they had done. The cognitive disparity of seeing them- -creatures that she had always assumed were mindless, vicious constructs- -going about happy daily lives was almost too much to bear.

Their reactions to her were less than pleasant as well. Lyra had already known that the Crystal Empire had contained a wide number of non-crystalline beings. Exiles, outcasts, cults and their descendants made up a substantial part of the population. A unicorn was not unheard of. Lyra’s anthro body, however, seemed to frighten them. They looked away from her, and mothers shielded their children as though she were the monster instead of them.

She almost regretted having left the suite she and her friends had been assigned. Almost. In actuality, she hated the idea of being watched over by crystal ponies so much that it would have been nearly unbearable. Escaping had not even been difficult. One of the greatest flaws of extensive underground facilities was that the invariably required large ventilation shafts to keep the atmosphere circulating, and as a certain krogan had come to find out very quickly, Lyra’s robotic body was amazingly flexible.

And so Lyra found herself in this park. It was extensive and flat, with a large portion of the ground consisting of enormous crystal tiles. Running throughout their complex structure were a system of artificial streams that fed planters of flowers and trees. Lyra found hereself walking slowly past the trickling steams and looking up at the trees. They were smaller than the ones she was accustomed to on Parnack, but they were species that she recognized from her life in Equestria.

Despite its beauty, though, this was a sad place. Lyra had read the signs, and she was aware of what it was for. She was not sure why, but she was drawn to it. Perhaps because she was one of the ones who remembered.

Lyra eventually reached the center of the park where the crystal gave way to a large monument. It was not a building or a statue, but rather a system of walls constructed from a special type of cloudy-gray, nearly black crystal. It was massive, more massive than Lyra had ever expected it would be.

As she approached, her one functional eye focused on the surface of the monument. It was not perfectly smooth. In fact, it was covered with countless millions of carved names.

For the better part of three hours, Lyra walked around the edge of the monument, following the chronology recorded on it until finally she arrived at a date that she would never be able to forget. She stopped, and for a moment considered turning away, even running. Instead, she took a ragged breath with her cybernetic lungs and looked up at the hundreds and hundreds of names of the soldiers who had lost their lives in the same battle where she had lost everything except hers.

It was striking. Lyra had no organic heart, not anymore, but she still felt her chest tighten. Before, they had always just been a horde. Now she saw that they had names. Each and every one of them. They had been ponies, like she had once been. Like in many ways she still was.

She was not sure how long she stared at that wall before she became conscious of another pony approaching. At first, Lyra did not look at him. She assumed he would just pass. When he stopped at the same facet as her, though, she looked down to see a crystal pony looking not at her but at the same wall. His rear legs, Lyra realized, were supported in a wheel rack. He was partially paralyzed.

“Did you lose someone in the battle?” he asked her without looking away from the wall.

“Yeah,” said Lyra. “I did.”

The crystal pony smiled. “You know, they’re all here,” he said. He put his hoof softly against one of the names. “See? There’s Misty Glow. He was on my squad. He hated when we used his first name, but we always did anyway. And next to him is Fire Quartz. He was a real hothead, but he died getting me and Luminescence to cover. Luminescence…he was my best friend. I loved that pony like a brother. He didn’t make it either.”

“You were in the battle,” said Lyra.

He nodded. “Yeah. It took my back legs. But I was lucky. We barely knew what we were getting into…we were told we were going to perform an ambush, and exactly where they would be. Then the came…” He shuddered. “Questlord mechs. Five of them. Just five. But they mowed us down like it was nothing. They slammed into us and we lost the first platoon in seconds. You can’t imagine what fresh hell that was.”

“I don’t have to,” said Lyra. “I was there.”

“You were?” for the first time, the crystal pony looked up at her. “I don’t recognize you. What unit were you in?”

“I was piloting one of the mechs.”

They both fell silent for a long, long time.

“Oh,” said the crystal pony. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Don’t apologize to me. I was probably the one who killed your friends.”

“But we won the battle. Eventually. And you…” he looked up at her. “It looks like you lost a lot more than your legs.”

Lyra looked down at one of her robotic hands. “This? I don’t even care. I’d have given up my whole body if I could have just saved her…”

“You lost somepony too.”

“The mare I loved, and my entire squad. The squad, they were my sisters, but they were knights. They knew what they were getting into. But Bon Bon…she shouldn’t have been there.”

“Damn,” said the crystal pony. “Just…damn…”

They fell silent again, and they both looked up at the wall. Lyra was not sure what she was looking for; the five names that she knew were not listed there, but in some dusty and forgotten file somewhere in a Canterlot basement.

“There should have been six…”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind.”

“Calcite Facet.”

“What?”

“It’s my name. Calcite Facet. And you?”

“Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings.”

“Well, Lyra Heartstrings…” He rolled backward and toward her. “I’m glad I met you. My wife is making hay-roast tonight. I’d be really happy if you could come, maybe have a drink with us.”

“Why would you want me there? I’m your enemy.”

“No.” Calcite shook his head. “You WERE my enemy. Not anymore. The War is over. Every name on this wall, they all died for that one goal. For peace. Misty Glow, Fire Quartz, Luminescence, all the others. All they ever wanted was to live in a world where we didn’t have to fight.”

“I know the feeling.” There had been a time in Lyra’s life when she had once considered leaving the war and starting a life with Bon Bon. To just forget about the fighting. Every day- -until she had met Starlight, Fenok, and the others- -she had wished that she had taken that path instead.

“I can’t eat, though,” said Lyra. “I don’t have a stomach.”

“That makes two of us. I’m made of crystal, after all. And I don’t think my wife can eat a whole hay-roast by herself. Honestly, I don’t know why she insists on making so much food.”

“You know, I have the same problem at home,” mused Lyra. “My stepdaughter’s coltfriend does a lot of the cooking, and he always makes ridiculous portions. And somehow my husband still manages to eat all of it, no matter how sick he gets afterward.”

Calcite laughed. “So is that a yes?”

“Sure,” said Lyra, following him as he started walking back down the path. “Why not?”

They crossed back down the long path, with Calcite occasionally pointing out the symbolism that was associated with the various shapes and trees that surrounded the monument.

“Not much farther,” said Calcite after several minutes. “She’s waiting for me just at the edge. She doesn’t like to come into the monument grounds proper.” He paused, and then sighed. “A lot of ponies are actually like that, actually. Almost no one comes here. It’s like they just want to pretend that the war never happened.”

“It’s the opposite in Equestria,” said Lyra. “All they ever do is prepare for it to start again.”

They came to the edge of the park where a mare was lying on a bench. Calcite led Lyra around the front. She appeared to be reading a newspaper, and she took it down and smiled when she saw her husband- -and her smile vanished the instant she saw Lyra.

Then Lrya saw her closely, and ever Every servo her body froze. Even without lungs or a heart, she felt her breath catch and her circulatory system accelerate. She blinked, but the image did not leave her eyes. The bicolor hair, the eggshell coat, the blue eyes.

Calcite was oblivious to the reaction of the two mares. He smiled and introduced them. “Lyra, I’d like you to meet my wife. Her name is Sweetie Drops.”