Only Human

Ana Bjorgman lay perfectly still.

Over the course of the past three hours, she had fired nearly twenty sniper rounds at the targets down at the brickyard, near-misses and crippling hits, a suppressing role, just how she liked it. Of course, she’d had to fire off a critical shot here and there. Two of them, if her count wasn’t very much mistaken. As always in such times, Ana breathed in, out, so slowly that the blades of grass tickling her face barely rustled, all to force back down the pressure weighing on her stomach. A simple shoulder hit, or kneecap, those befitted her sensibilities. Sure, kneecaps weren’t easy to pull off, and still painful, but at least meant one less life lost.

Colonel Renee’s voice called in through the radio, finally breaking the relative silence.

“Nordfjell, this is Overwatch, is the situation under control? Over.”

Not once taking her eyes off the scope, Ana gave a swift reply.

“Nordfjell to Overwatch, hostiles have been pushed back inside, over.”

“Noted, Nordfjell. Vanhoover-Actual’s moved in towards the objective, over.”

She sighed, glad all was done. Her place here, clutching at her rifle inside this ghillie suit, had begun to slowly, yet surely, bear down on her.

“Duly noted, Overwatch, over.”

“Extraction and relief forces are coming within the hour, Nordfjell. We are awaiting the next word from Vanhoover-Actual. Overwatch out.”

Ana sat back, taking off her hood and balaclava. Snow Mist’s clearing of the Ponyville skies had come at the cost of comfort, for she had been sweating profusely over the past hour.

‘Really gotta change now, drats,’ she thought, removing her rifle’s suppressor and gingerly placing it on the ground. Standing up to stretch also gave her an opportunity for wiping off a few beads of sweat from her brow. ‘Wonder how the others are doing? Can’t be all that much worse... right?’

Judging from the lack of cries at the brickyard, they seemed to be holding out pretty well.

‘Harwood’s... probably got his hands full. Jaka’s kicking all sorts of ass.’ She chuckled, counting down her companions one by one. ‘All things considered, though, think I’m a bit, eh, over-equipped. They don’t have… anti-materiel rifles now, do they? And here I am, melting. On the other hand, what do pilots do with no one around? Dula… well, at least she’s got that Loyalist for a chat.’

Shaking her head, the young woman sat back down, opening the precious gift of sustenance Moondancer had given for her hours before.

‘Ah, well, ‘least I still got this soup. Thank you, Dancer.’

Ana’s lips curved into a smile as she took in the whole town, sipping from her thermos. It certainly was a quiet, pleasant little place. Small wonder that Major Bauer and Special Operative Lulamoon had chosen this as their temporary retreat.

‘Wonder what it’ll look like in winter. One thing I know for sure, well, I’d rather freeze than melt inside this stupid camouflage. Can’t seem to escape the tropics anywhere, drat! Why couldn’t we come during the winter? Couldn’t anyone just, y’know, make and cover the hills with blankets of soft, powdery snow, it’d be easy and… nice. Heck, maybe I’ll get Dula and Harwood on a night out on town, it’ll be fun! What wouldn’t I do for some lutefisk right now? Yeah, just, just like home…’

Equestria did remind her of Norway in summer, if only a tiny bit. And the rows upon rows of warm, welcoming houses strongly called to mind her childhood hometown as well. All she needed was a snowman, a mug of chocolate, warm hugs, and she’d be all set.

“Nordfjell come in, Nordfjell report, over!”

Shame this wasn’t the world she lived in now.

The sudden noise and crackle startled Ana into a backwards tumble, jolting her awake. Hurriedly setting aside her thermos, she snatched up the radio. If the normally stoic, collected Colonel Renee called in so abruptly, something had gone terribly wrong.

“This is Nordfjell reporting in, what’s the problem? Over,”

But this wasn’t the normally stoic, collected Colonel Renee. Instead, she heard the very familiar and very welcome voice of Mridula Prasad.

“Ana, this is Prasad,” said the pilot, and Ana couldn’t help but notice her strain.

“Oh, hey, Prasad!” Ana replied, as brightly as she could. “Is something wrong or–”

“The Blue Spy has been compromised, Ana. She’s gone rogue.”

“Huh?” Ana certainly hadn’t expected this to be the urgent report of the day. “Er, come again, Dula? Did you say ‘gone rogue’?”

“Anastasia Bjorgman, you get your head outside that winter wonderland you call your thoughts, because I need you to listen very carefully, right now, understand?”

The use of her full name certainly drew Ana’s full attention, no doubt about that.

“Whatever happened in that forest screwed over the Spy. Me and my detainee got attacked, real nasty wound she gave me.”

“Wait, I can get help, Dula. Harwood can–”

“No time for that! The detainee... Blackberry’s a doctor, but Ana, please, I need you to stop the Spy. Cutter’s in pursuit, but for Heaven’s sake, do not let the Spy into the town. Who knows what she’ll do in there? Are we clear on that?”

“Alright. Just, stay safe, will you? I really don’t think you should be trusting the prisoner, I mean, the detainee, to take care of you.”

“You just worry about yourself and the Spy, Ana. Sleja out.”

Prasad’s orders were precise, her desperate tone notwithstanding, and Ana instantly caught onto the situation’s precarious nature, in spite of her brief hesitation. Quickly, she peered through her scope, searching for any sign of the Spy, any sudden flash of hidden blades, traces of a blue mare…

There. Amongst the white fences, the Spy moved swiftly, with the efficiency of an automaton.

‘... Now just what are you up to, Miss Spy?’

Ana started to reach for her suppressor. Her fingers had touched the edge, when the house’s doors creaked open.

Whereupon a young filly, no older than five, scooted out into the yard, tumbling in a heap of laughter as her friend tackled her to the well-manicured lawn.

‘No...’

The sniper wasn’t sure how bad, nor how extensive the damage done to the Spy’s mind was. But the mare’s robotic, emotionless gait and look, the way she stared at the two confused little fillies, reminded Ana of a Nordic wolf on the prowl amidst the pines.

Whatever she was staring down her scope was neither compassionate nor merciful.

She didn’t care whether the Spy was an important asset to the war. All she knew was that there were two children down there, and a hostile-looking Spy moving straight at them.

Ana pulled the trigger.

There was a time, long ago, when this train of thought would have made Trixie sick to the pit of her stomach, when the mere idea of killing children in cold blood would have made her cry herself to sleep at night.

Too bad Trixie wasn’t here right now.

‘Fools, believing they are safe from my wrath. No, they will die like the rest.’

The Spy raised her blade, eyes narrowing as the two little girls, just getting their start in life, began to back away from her in fear.

“Don’t you know what the grown-ups say?” she asked quietly, flatly. “There are many monsters in this world. Children should stay away from monsters.”

A light glinted off the surface of her knife. Her only warning, but an oh-so familiar one.

Swiftly, she ducked down, feeling the air brush her as something missed her head by scarcely more than an inch, smashed into the mailbox beside her and sent splinters flying. Right after, catching up with the bullet, a loud bang echoed through the air. It sent the fillies screaming and rushing back inside.

The Blue Spy did not care, now she had a bigger, more dangerous target in mind. She turned to stare out and upon the distant, woody hill overlooking the town. She smirked somewhat when her eyes trained on a spot, adjusting at the tell-tale glint of a scope.

Another shot struck. But far from doubling over in pain, the Spy’s image wavered and vanished.

She had moved by then, not too far, merely behind the garden’s white picket fence, hidden enough to observe her would-be-sniper. Her refuge was of short duration, though, for another blow sheared the top off one of her cover’s boards. Luckily it was too clean a shot for splinters to smash into her face.

‘Expert sniper, former military perhaps.’

Releasing several sparks of light, her body slipped away from sight as she slowly maneuvered toward another area, the relative safety of the house’s front porch. Yet, one more sniper round took a potshot at her hindquarters, missing only to shatter a window. The sound of screams echoed from the inside, soon joined by a dozen hooves galloping out, but the Spy did not care.

‘Correction. Former civilian. Still, good. Able to discern my location by surrounding dirt.”

“Location confirmed,” Spy said aloud as she ducked behind the now-open wooden door, knowing this was a mere stop-gap. “High penetration. PHL munition.”

Her horn glowed, a second, illusionary Spy taking shape beside her, along with a shield. It raced away into the street, only to get taken out with a single hit, and crumple to the ground.

“Heavy round, less than a fifty, but greater than twenty-two. Possible three-thirty-eight.”

No single breath of hers could go to waste. While the false Spy may have pulled the wool over her sniper’s eyes for a limited window of time, any assailant worth their salt, who knew what they were dealing with, would never be fooled into thinking they had taken her out so easily, least of all on this clear afternoon; her illusions, though close to perfect, cast no shadow. She herself, however, did. And it was getting late. Move too far out, and the sun’s rays were certain to give her away when she cast a long, black gap in the light upon the cobblestones.

Fortunately, there were other means at her disposal. Cautiously, she levitated her blade, using the metal reflection to look around the corner, cursing the poor quality of her wooden cover. Judging the coast clear, she gave a grunt as wings sprouted from her back, carrying her to the building’s second floor, through the side window.

… Even that was one moment’s exposure too many.

She’d barely made it inside, past the frame, when the desk beneath her exploded, a splinter burying itself into one of her newly-fledged winds, the shock of which destroyed her balance. Headfirst, the Spy crashed. Mercifully, she crashed into the soft surface of a double bed.

Coughing, groaning, the Spy pushed herself away from the pillowcases.

As tempted as she was, holing up inside this recently-vacated house, she knew, was the worst possible option to go for when bereft of backup. Who knew which other hostiles may converge upon her position, and how fast, and in what numbers. Her safest bet would be to exit from whatever angle would logically be a blindspot to the sniper – a northern window.

Harwood glanced at Jaka, suppressing a twitch in his palms as he forced himself to bandage the Sarge’s injured left hand, for the far-off sounds of gunshot, bouncing off the drying shed’s stuffy walls, suddenly made him fear for a certain young, unusual woman close to both men’s hearts.

And here he’d thought tending to the Lord of Chaos would be the worst challenge of the day.

“I hear sniper fire,” Major Bauer said tensely, getting up to his feet from beside the sickly, prone Discord strewn on the straw-covered floor. “Was that your sniper, Sergeant?”

“Affirmative, sir. That would be Corporal Bjorgman,” Jaka confirmed, his good hand reaching over for his radio. “But I do not know why she’d ditch her suppressor.”

“Sergeant,” Bauer stated. “Was your sniper equipped for a stealth mission?”

“Yes, Major Bauer,” said Jaka, snapping to attention. “Should I attempt to contact her, sir?”

“Do it.”

“What’s goin’ on here?” Applejack asked, startling Harwood.

Replace the cowboy stetson with a reinforced helmet, he realized, and this mare was a dead ringer for her Imperial counterpart. He could not reconcile the notorious slavedriver with the open, guileless face looking up expectantly at him. This close, it was a minor shock in itself, seeing there were freckles on her cheeks.

“Sniper, ma’am,” Snow Mist helpfully provided. “Something went wrong, we’re trying to find out what.”

On cue, Harwood raised his radio.

“Nordfjell, this is Frost-One, come in, over.”

“A little busy here, Har!”Ana replied frantically. “Call back later!”

“Ana, I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop before you cause a panic! Cease fire!”

“Not an option! Look, I need to call you back...”

The radio faded into static, another shot heard in the distance.

“Dammit, Ana. Sarge, I lost her. We gotta try getting her back on the line, now.”

Before the Sergeant could even begin to switch channels, a beep indicated that someone else was attempting to contact the group. Warily, Jaka opened the comm.

“This is Vanhoover-Actual, identify, over,” he said firmly. Heavy breathing answered his query, which Harwood recognized, to his own surprise, as belonging to–

“Sleja-Gamma here, Actual,” their pilot answered. “Calling in to inform you of the Blue Spy.”

Jaka wisely handed over his radio to Major Bauer, who suddenly sported a look of absolute concern.

“Sleja Gamma, this is Major Bauer. What is your emergency, over?”

“Major Bauer, sir!” Prasad wheezed, heaving in pain once more. “Beg to inform you about the Spy... she has gone rogue. Came close to slashing my throat open! Only the intervention of Operative Cutter spared me and my detainee from further harm.”

The ensuing silence was so still, one could have heard a pin drop. Then a new shot rang out, and Bauer switched back the channels.

“Nordfjell, this is Major Bauer. What’s the sitrep in Ponyville, over?”

“Major Bauer, I... I can explain this!” Ana stuttered anxiously. “But the Spy, you see, she appears to have… to have gone rogue. Couldn’t let her do anything bad to any civvies. I’m sorry.”

Harwood scarcely pondered what lay in Bauer’s mind, but the Major’s voice formed an unnaturally calm response.

“Keep the sitrep on, Corporal. We’ll get to the bottom of this, make sure she does not leave your sight, over.”

“Got it!” Another shot rung, another shot chambered.

“She hasn’t hit the Spy yet, Major,” Harwood said helpfully. “Otherwise she’d have stopped a while ago.”

“I’m aware of that, Corporal,” Stephan agreed drily. “Now, we need to evacuate the town.”

“With due respect, Major, is that necessary?” Snow Mist piped up, only for Lieutenant Scratch to grimace at the thoughtless question.

“Believe me, it is,” Stephan replied. “The Spy isn’t a regular soldier like the rest of the PHL, she is an operative of the highest caliber; she is a spy, an assassin, and a cleaner all at once.”

“Cleaner?”

“No survivors, no witnesses, the dead can only say so much these days,” Scratch explained, taking no heed of Snow Mist’s sudden paleness. “If an entire town has to go, she’ll do it without question.”

Professionalism entered in conflict with a latent, gut reaction of disgust within Harwood, some part of him which training had not completely scoured. He may have killed opponents on the field many times over, but something about the deed outside the heat of battle, performed with cold detachment more fit for a machine than a man, still had power to repulse him. It was all to do with being a medic, carrying the responsibility of keeping your fellow killers alive. As his palms began to itch once again, secretly, he cursed the motherfuckers they all really were.

After three years of his world gone topsy-turvy, his nation plain gone, faced with an enemy he could never have predicted, now, as he stood in this strange land, near a friendly mirror to three of the enemies’ faces, he saw how wrong it all was. It wasn’t the Equestrians who shouldn’t have come to Earth. They were the ones who should never have gone to Equestria.

Damn Ana, too, for her inability to play the part of an emotionally-removed sniper. Then, with no warning, the radio blared back to life, and who else’s frightened voice should it have been, but hers.

“Hey, uh, sir? We have a problem,” she whispered unhappily. “I… I don’t think I can hold out for too long. I’m running low, Sarge.”

“Pull out, Nordfjell,” Jaka said calmly. “Evacuate, wait until the coast is clear, and await further commands.”

“Await further commands?” Harwood said incredulously. The palms were tingling worse than ever. He’d never heard Ana sound so frightened before. “Sergeant, this is–”

“I... I’m going in there, Sarge.”

Harwood promptly snatched the radio from Jaka’s grip. “What was that? Ana, please tell me you did not just–”

“Someone’s gotta warn them, Har, please. I saw some kids down there and... yeah, I gotta go warn them.”

“Ana, pull out...” Harwood said softly, a tinge of regret and pain everlasting over events long ago. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t play the hero, just do as the Sarge says.”

“Someone’s also got to pull the Spy out of there too, right? We need her alive.”

“Do what you can do, Nordfjell,” Jaka said quickly, cutting off Harwood.

“I will, sir.”

The radio crackled and died.

Now, Harwood thought of himself as quite experienced. It didn’t stop him from shaking the accursed radio. “Ana? Ana? That’s not what I - for Christ’s sake, of all the bloody...”

“Easy, soldier,” Jaka reprimanded him, taking the radio away from his trembling hands.

“Are there any reinforcements coming, Sergeant?” Major Bauer demanded, interrupting the two men.

“We have been informed of incoming reinforcements.”

“Noted,” the Major said. “Send out a scouting group to investigate, Sergeant, we need all the intel we can get.”

Without a second glance, the Sergeant strode forward, motioning for Lieutenant Coxa to follow him. Before he exited the drying shed, however, Jaka gave Harwood a final, meaningful look.

“Until I get back, Corporal, I leave you in charge of the team.”

There were many things going through Harwood’s mind, but defying orders wasn’t one of them. He waved off his Sergeant with a weary sigh, merely asking that he and Bjorgman both return safely. And so the Sarge and the Changeling disappeared into the forest.

“Reloading,” the Spy whispered as she leapt out the window into the smoke-covered street.

No rifle fired in response, no cracks or bullets flying through the air.

And she knew what that meant.

“Ammunition depleted.”

Her keen eyes darted left and right to the distance, looking for any tell-tale traces. On a far-off hill, the sun glinted upon something. The barrel of a sniper rifle. And was that, left unwisely exposed on the grassy surface beside the human-sized mound, a radio for his use, or hers? No matter – target acquired.

But someone slammed into the Spy, knocking her to the cobblestones. She stood up, none the worse for wear.

“You,” she whispered, narrowing her eyes hatefully at the intruder.

“I’m not done with you. Not yet,” Operative Pineapple Cutter replied, smiling devilishly as she brought out her prosthetically-attached forelimb-blade. “Today is not our day for death. But it is a day for pain, yes.”

“You aim too low, Cutter.”

Cutter smirked. “I’ve heard it many times. Although this is the first time from a female.”

Without warning, the two fighters, each quite unhinged in their own personal way, raced toward the other with breathtaking speed, fully intent on finishing this battle once and for all.

“Listen, Miney–”

“Don’t you ‘Miney’ me, mister. We’re not done here.”

With a sigh, Fuse sat down and leaned against the kiln’s outer shell, as Minus began to dab a cotton cloth of antiseptic to his bruised face. Much as that stung, the kiln’s cool stone touch burnt worse upon his back, bringing up flashes of his recent ordeal, yet he didn’t dare say so to his wife, who still looked like she’d half a mind to stuff him in there herself.

She’d never do such a thing, of course. Because, apart from anything else, she’d been a wandering hero’s sidekick, once. And proper heroes didn’t behave like that.

His glance fell upon the blasted-open entrance to his drying shed. Where he’d woken to find the human soldier bound and glaring at him with eyes full of anger.

“Please,” Fuse swallowed. “I can...”

“Explain?” his wife snapped. “What, think you can screw up this badly, and then all you need is a whispered ‘sorry’ and a smooch and we’ll all just hug and make up? For shame, I’da believed you above this, at least.”

Except it didn’t escape him how her cheekbone twitched, right at the spot he’d below her ear where he had, in fact, kissed her before they made their escape from the terracotta ghoul. Wordlessly, Minus pulled out a clean cloth from their medical kit, and moved to apply it to the claw marks around his left forehoof, a stark, angry crimson deeper than his natural red coat. He could have sworn the beast had torn a small chunk out of him.

Mercifully, he’d been allowed to take off the cuffs. Probably the last freedom he’d be getting soon.

“C’mon, babes,” Fuse pleaded, still ready to push his luck. “Don’t let yerself fester on the inside like this. Yer meant to be the quick-thinkin’, cool-headed one, aye?”

“Don’t you try getting cute on me,” Minus said, lip wobbling. “You dragged yourself and your friends into this mess, called up your old ‘pals’ from back in the day, and almost got a guy offed who the humans need to help defend them. That’s a bit much for anyone to take all in one go.”

Fuse opened his mouth to retort, but closed it again, unable to challenge his wife’s wrath. He kept quiet all the way as the teeny pegasus, so much smaller than him, wrapped a bandage on his forehoof.

“There,” Minus finally said, patting the wrapping. “Now that wasn’t too bad, was it?” She didn’t let go. Instead, his wife kept his hoof grasped in her own. “Fuse, tell me,” she said slowly. “What in Celestia’s name could have pushed you to… all this?”

He struggled to look her in the eye. Once again, he felt aware of the grey streaks in her flame-colored mane. And on his own crew cut, as well.

“I was afraid, alright?” Fuse admitted quietly. “All these… strangers comin’ into Equestria. Next thing I know, war’s on the horizon and Equestria’s gearing up for it, Princess Celestia gone into the wind and her sister runnin’ everything with an iron hoof. That jus' ain't right, that ain't Equestria. I was worried about ya. I didn’t do it for myself... I did it for ya too.”

His confession got Minus to recoil. Nevertheless, some of the tension went out of her shoulders.

“I see...” was her comment. “That how it is, then?"

“Aye.”

She chuckled sadly, pulling up a stool to sit on. “You can be real thick-headed sometimes, ya know, Shorty?”

Although Fuse had oft heard it before, the remark still dug at him. But there was always one sure means to make headway with Minus.

“Hey, don’t bash it,” he grunted. “If yer skull were half so solid as mine, maybe I wouldn’t have quit on Caballeron. And then ya wouldn’t have asked to move back into yer grandpappy’s hometown, after Daring quit you... we folk, we know what it is, seein’ the world but havin’ no real place...”

His wife abruptly grabbed him by the shoulder and pressed her forehead against his, eyes blazing.

“Our place is at one another’s side,” Minus told him fiercely. “Mayhaps it makes life easier, having day jobs which let us each do our own drudgery in peace, but dammit, I love you, even if I don’t always get why, and you shoulda known keeping these kinda secrets from me would only hurt more.”

The fire in her words made something inside of him bend. “Minus, I know ya! If ya’d been aware what was up, ya wouldn’t have told on me. Not just cos’ I’m yer husband, because o’ the thrill of the risk! And then, fer aidin’, ya’d have gone to jail too... or worse...”

Minus’ gaze softened. “Heh...” she whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Brings back memories, this does. Even with that little head condition you gave me, stud.” She drew breath. “Funny, innit? Raid many dungeons in the wide world, some guarded by dragons and other exotic creatures, get locked inna few by angry natives, yet you’re the one who kept ending somewhere so awfully banal as state prison.”

Fuse smiled wanly. “Ya thinkin’ about that time we both got split from our groups and the Avuda had us caught n’ tied together fer lowerin’ into a pit full of white tigers.”

“Fun times,” Minus tittered. “Forced to work with the enemy to escape a death trap. Stuff to tell stories and laugh. But you’re still in trouble, mister,” she added coolly. “It ain’t just you and me no more. You risked everyone’s lives with that stunt…”

His wife patted her belly. “Including this little one.”

What this meant didn’t hit Fuse immediately. Then it did, and his eyes grew wide as saucers.

“You’re... you’re pregnant?”

“Darn right I am,” Minus said, with a welcome tinge of pride to her voice. “Wanted to tell you weeks ago. That human fellow, Harwood, he’s a doctor of some sort. Looked me over after Blackjack hit me thereabouts, and... says there's no harm done. Made of strong stuff... this one’s yours, alright.”

She lowered her hoof to press it against his chest.

“Shorty... ” she whispered. “You’ve made many bad decisions in your life, including how you adapted your name from the original Gildedalite. True, maybe it’s more than you deserve, being named after ‘the candle which burns twice as bright’, yet, you’re worth a lot to me. And this here, ole ruffian, is a treasure we can truly call our own.”

Fuse grinned, rubbing her belly in turn. He still wasn’t sure he shared her unspoken trust in the humans’ goodwill. And yet he found he didn’t mind. If that made him a thick-headed fool who couldn’t plan ahead, then he wanted to be just such a fool.

Besides, now was a good time to start on new plans. His grin faded. In his case, all the time in the world.

“Way things look…” he grimaced. “I ain’t gonna be around for a while, Miney...”

Whatever he was going to say next, however, was quieted by a kiss from his wife, deep and passionate. A smile etched across her lips on his reassured him, and he welcomed her into his embrace.

“Hey, if you think I’ll just be standing around, Fuse...” Minus said, breaking away. “You’re dead wrong.”

Their reconciliation, however, was cut short by shouts of surprise from the outside.

Fuse didn't even have time to ask what was going when, just as he and Minus looked out the window, the first of the bugs landed. There were at least a dozen of them. Changelings, their chatter of their wings not unlike that of a locust swarm, swarming all over the brickyard. They were everywhere, from atop the walls to the yard proper. Settling. Creating a perimeter.

“What in the bloody hell?”

Having heard the room go silent, Harwood looked up from the sickly, prone Discord. Next to him, Lieutenant Scratch took off her earbud, realizing he was talking to her.

“‘Sup, Corporal?”

From the blasted doorway, a tall, sleek figure came into view, flanked by Changelings in a wide berth.

Yet Harwood’s attention was diverted by seeing Applejack tense up, while Snow Mist visibly shivered. From past the doorway, his perspective just allowed him to spot Mrs. Fuse get instinctively grabbed by her husband in a protective embrace as the figure presented itself proudly. Bauer and Scratch, on the other hand, simply gave the Changeling Queen a once-over, returning to their improvised officer’s conference with little pause.

Chrysalis’s lips curled into a lecherous smile as she took in the assembled gathering.

“My, my, now what do we have here, hm?”

“Hey Queenie, dig the escorts, what's up?”

Stephan groaned under his breath at Lieutenant Scratch’s flippant response, but the Englishman, Corporal Harwood, made do with a light chuckle and continued tending to Discord, visibly welcoming some new liveliness.

As for Scratch, she sat down, not without a little wave to a purple-maned female drone flanking the Queen, who tilted her head in confusion before, uncertainly, waving back.

“Thank you, Lieutenant, for that sterling greeting,” Chrysalis laughed affectionately, though her countenance wasted no time in regaining an uncharacteristically serious air. “Always a pleasure to see one of my children sow the seed of something beautiful, and shall we say, delicious with those who show interest. After all, why do you think I’m here, Major?”

She fluttered her eyes teasingly, yet all Stephan did was rub his own, too tired for this.

“Look, Chrysalis, can we not play these games?” he demanded. “I only just got freed, and I’ve more important business to attend than your flirtatiousness.”

While Scratch smothered a grin, the Queen made a show of pouting, her lower lip stuck out. “Not even a little?”

“No.”

“Oh fine... spoilsport,” Chrysalis huffed, sitting herself down, then beckoning to the female drone at her side, who trotted closer. “But as it happens, I am here in my official capacity as queen, so, might as well skip beating around the bush and get right into it... that’s what I say.”

He hadn’t quite registered her last phrase before she went on. “I was... tasked, to inform you that a contingent of Royal Guards are converging on this quaint little town, to secure the situation... blah-blah-blahddy-blah-blah, politics, you know how it goes. Got called up in the midst of my nap, won’t even give a queen her beauty sleep...”

As if to emphasize her point, Chrysalis let out a donkey’s yawn most unbecoming for a mare of her station.

“Tasked?”

“Of course you noticed...” Chrysalis sighed, closing her eyes. “There’s been a shift of power in Equestria today... So, sorry I’m not at my most presentable, had to hurry. Aphid, my sweet,” she told the nearby female drone, “Mother needs a hooficure.’”

Obediently, the drone lowered herself to her knees, bowing her head forward so her horn came to lay in the expectant ‘palm’ of her Queen’s forehoof, who began happily scratching the other hoof against the gnarled horn‘s edge as if it were a nailfile.

“Shift of power?” Lieutenant Snow Mist spoke up, sounding a bit bewildered by it all.

“Yes,” Chrysalis explained disinterestedly. “Sir Fancypants is now Prime Minister. And with this transfer, ordained by the Princesses removing themselves from the center, that technically makes him chief executive of the whole pretty lil’ country.”

Chrysalis placed her newly-filed hoof to her cheek. “So, first thing Fancy does, is contact little old me and break the grand news, Changelings are no longer considered enemies of the state, and more than that, we’re recognized as allies in this time of war.”

Stephan stroked his chin. “Then this means the Changelings are now officially allied with Equestria.”

“Yes, yes, no more enemies, friends in sunshine and rainbows and all that drivel,” Chrysalis muttered. “But I am not in charge of that branch of liaison, owing to... past history. While I am Queen, my… special connection to my people doesn’t apply to others, y’see. Being at the center of everything, you can miss out on the sidelines... As Celly ought to know.”

The Changeling monarch rolled one eye, critically surveying her hooficure with the other. “Huh, missed a spot. Yeah,” she elaborated, applying the hoof back the little drone’s horn, “Fancy and I had a chat and I... promised not to make a pain of myself in future. Not that it will stop Mythuselon, that old bug from forever hounding me over my ideas on how to try and save our people.”

“You did try to take over.”

Minus stood in the doorway behind the Queen, her expression as incandescent as her mane.

“Yes, because my people were going hungry,” replied Chrysalis, without turning. “Thankfully that never passed. You don’t know how hard it was, foal. Listening to them day in and out, unable to do anything about it.”

“Don’t patronize me, Your Majesty,” hissed Minus. “I’ve seen more of the world than many an equine. And I’m married to a rough-hewn stallion whose people never lived so lofty a lifestyle as the Equestrians. He even used to move in the sorts of circles which deal with ruler and rebel alike.”

Fuse’s wife was glowering. When the diminutive pegasus had first accosted Stephan, his first impression of her had been one of and patience, yet he saw now that clearly more lay hidden beneath. She now glanced his way.

“I’m sad for what’s been done to the Major’s race,” Minus said quietly. “And my husband’s own complicity in it. But I also know of how Saddle Mareabians can pit different zebra tribes against one another... or the crooked deals a griffon general will strike to put ambitious princelings at the head of a lesser eyrie, so they may serve as allies against his rival, before he turns on them once they won’t be puppets, and proclaims himself a liberator.”

Minus looked again to the Changeling Queen. “If circumstances were different, Fuse might have been a... partner to these freedom fighters, like you, Chrysalis. But things are as they are, and that’s why he’s facing justice and you’re not. I hope you enjoy it while it lasts. Just do something good with your life before then.”

None were given a chance to answer, as she turned her back on them and left, presumably to rejoin her husband.

Chrysalis frowned somewhat as she surveyed the surrounding group, Vinyl Scratch, Applejack, Harwood and Discord all, brushing her mane to test out the quality of her hooficure. Stephan noted this particular nervous tick of hers in a heartbeat. Exactly the same as what his own Chrysalis would do whenever she’d found something juicy, or felt lost in a crowd.

“Where is my little blue egotist?” the Queen asked at last. “Wouldn’t she normally be by your side, Stephan, nagging you to take a break and whatnot? Hello there, deary,” she suddenly told Harwood, startling him while she bared her fangs playfully. “I know you. You’re with Coxa. Good drone, that, my favorite wing-scrubber. But where might he be?”

“Lieutenant Coxa? He’s…. uh... he’s scouted on ahead, ma’am!” Harwood said, fumbling for his radio.

“No need,” Chrysalis admonished him. “I need to regain focus for a moment, yet I’ll be able to contact him my own way soon enough. Two shape-shifters, both amiss during a non-lethal rescue, hmm... something tells me I may have flown in a little too early to bring you the news. At first glance, this mission should be over, except that’s not the case, is it?”

“No...” Stephan admitted, with a heavy heart. “It involves… the Blue Spy, going rogue.”

Chrysalis opened her mouth, then promptly snapped it close, as understanding dawned on her.

“Ah, it has been fun and all, my dears, but we have work to do,” she said swiftly, getting back to her hooves, though she did pause to pat her ‘nailfile’ drone on the head. “You’re a good girl, Aphid. Stay at my side, you and Thorax, the others will see to guarding the prisoners.”

Wordlessly, all but two of the Changeling drones went for the doorway, out of the drying shed.

“One less concern, Major,” Chrysalis said nonchalantly. “Now, what to do, hm?”

“Right,” said Stephan, strutting forward. “We need a plan, not rush in blindly.”

“Are you giving me orders?” she asked playfully.

“Well,” Stephan drawled. “Last time you came up with a plan, it literally blasted you out the city, via love shield…”

“Oh, but of course!” Chrysalis said with a mocking flourish and a bow. “Now, lead the way, and I will follow.”

Having nodded in acknowledgement, Stephan gestured for Harwood to follow as well.

“You and your friends, keep Discord and his daughter safe,” he told Applejack.

“Don’t worry, Major,” Applejack reassured him. “We’ll... handle this.”

“Hey, Stephan,” Vinyl interrupted, adjusting her shades as was her want. “I’ll keep an eye on them, rely on me. Now, you go out there and snap Girl Blue out of it, you hear me?”

This remark got Stephan prepared to smile, yet this didn’t come about, for Harwood’s radio blared to life, taking them all by surprise. Hurriedly, the Englishman moved to answer.

“Harwood, this is Coxa, reporting in, over,” the disguised voice of Coxa spoke out.

“Go on ahead, Lieutenant.”

“The Spy’s moved in through the residential area. I don’t know where the Sergeant is, but the crowd’s getting larger and larger…”

But Harwood could not say any more, because Chrysalis had already snatched up his radio.

“Why, hi, Coxa!” she greeted. From the static, it sounded as if Coxa had dropped his own device out of surprise.

“Your Majesty! I... I didn’t expect, my apology, but I didn’t think...”

Chrysalis giggled girlishly. “Don’t get your wings in a twist, Coxa, I’m entering the picture now. Just you stay where you are, the team’s coming for you, and when this whole tiring mess had blown over, we can relax with a wing-scrub, me getting my wings scrubbed, you the honor of scrubbing your queen’s wings, sound good?”

“Cer-certainly, Your Majesty!” Coxa finished, quickly spelling out his coordinates.

“Well then, Thorax, Aphid, come along, we’ve got much to do,” Chrysalis smirked, walking up to Stephan. He looked her over sternly, while the two Changelings beside her flew forward, disguising themselves as a pair of unassuming pegasi.

“On me,” Stephan said shortly, his pace hastening to a run.

“Your treachery will not slide easily,” Pina’s opponent stated flatly.

Fine words to fight by. She grinned wolfishly as she swiped at the Spy rolling across the village cobblestones, if only to slow her down. It missed, forcing her to raise her prosthetic hoof to block her opponent’s knife, coming for her exposed side. But, she failed to prevent the follow-up strike to her jaw, and the world became filled with an explosion of light, beautiful stars dancing before her eyes.

“Good! More!” she exclaimed lustfully. “Give me more! I cannot wait for more!”

Willing herself to pierce the pink fog clouding her senses, Pina charged, raising her blade so that she’d at least get one more strike in. Rarely had she experienced a sense of intimacy quite like this. The Spy’s durability was greater than most, almost equal to her own. Nor was this the uninhibited yet soulless touch of a Newfoal. Such purity was felt only once in awhile.

“RAGH!”

Pina stepped back as a tall human rugby-tackled the Spy to the ground. But he got no chance to cherish his upper hand over the wily unicorn, for the Spy vanished in a bright flash from between his arms. Her blades, however, did not, and the human barely had time to roll away to safety as they slammed into the cobblestones, in a shower of sparks, yet without getting so much as a dent or scratch.

“Welcome to pain, yes,” Pina told him, as the human – Sergeant Jaka, Miss Bjorgman’s companion from Indonesia, she remembered – nonchalantly unholstered his handgun, and brandished out his own serrated knife.

“You alright, Operative?” he inquired, eyes darting left and right for any sign of the Spy.

“Feeling the bliss,” Pina exhaled pleasurably, scanning the empty street all the while. “We are no match for her.”

“I am fully aware of it. Situation?”

“She was playing with her food. Us. Now there is more to go around. She will kill us slowly. The flavor of our dying bodies will sate her.”

“Duly noted. What of civilians?”

This gave Pina some pause. “No casualties so far. Have contained the fight to this area. But I will be unable to keep word from spreading. Or panic.”

“You are traitors,” the Blue Spy’s voice echoed around them, bouncing off the walls of the little thatched cottage before them, empty and dull, like the White Room. “You’ve turned your backs on the PHL. The only thing awaiting you is death. Major Bauer will not be harmed due to the likes of you.”

“Blue Spy, liste–” Jaka started, only to duck his head as a blade shot off from his side.

“No. Your deaths will be slow,” the Spy’s voice was filled with anger. “You hurt something precious... our trust. Your end will not be swift, nor will it be painless."

“Good!” Pina cried in exultant joy. “Perhaps I can repay you in kind.”

“Apa–”

The words caught in Jaka’s throat as, nonplussed, he saw the most unlikely of projectile weapons dropped at his feet – a carrot, like so many in the carts and stands of this town.

Next thing he knew, Operative Cutter had near-literally thrown him onto her back, using one of those uncanny hooks or claws in her prosthetic, and shoved them both behind an abandoned food cart. The explosion ripped the ground apart and blew out the cottage’s windows, showering tiny shards of jagged glass everywhere.

Cutter yelled out in disgust, spittle flying. “No! You fibber! You said it would be slow.”

“I lied.”

The Spy appeared behind Cutter, knife raised to stab her in the back. Abruptly, a round whizzed past her, forcing her down, which left her open to Cutter’s retaliotary strike. Snarling, the demented mare whipped around, her blade hissing in a gleaming arc at her opponent’s bared throat. But it missed, as the Spy’s reflexes once again took over, and she vanished.

Before Jaka, dazed and confused, could right his Glock, something skewered right through it. He looked to see one of the knives lodged into the barrel and slide. Scowling, he tossed his now-useless handgun aside, cursing under his breath that he hadn’t got to fire more than a single shot.

“I do not like liars,” Cutter growled at the empty space where the Spy had been. “Wanted to share bliss with you. Not anymore. You deserve the White Room."

Then a loud gasp reminded of Jaka exactly where they were fighting.

‘Kampret,’ he swore inwardly at the sight of a beige-colored, two-tone-maned young mare frozen in her tracks, unable to move as she beheld them.

“Go! LEAVE!” Jaka shouted out towards her. She seemed familiar, but in the heat of the moment he could not place her. “Operative, get her out of here!”

If Cutter had any objections, she did not voice them, incredibly.

“Affirmative. You there!” Cutter yelled to the terrified mare. “Come with me if you want to live. It would not do for Minty to lose her favourite candy crunch.”

Jaka knew that all around them, curious ponies would be sticking their heads out of the windows of their shops and homes, wondering what all the commotion was about. For all that they were used to monster attacks on Ponyville, a delirious mare violently attacking another would surely set off alarm bells.

“Duck!” he shouted, as the Spy materialized behind the mare whom Cutter had appeared to place even if he hadn’t.

Reacting instinctively, the Ponyvillian swerved aside, but it wouldn’t have been fast enough if Cutter hadn’t interceded to once more cross prosthetic blade with her opponent’s knife. Except that the blade passed straight through the knife, as if it were shadow.

Shadow… this Spy had no shadow.

His martial senses took over and he performed a backflip, knife still clutched. Not before time, either, as he saw a knife cut past the space between his legs. It would have been his spine, had he delayed only two seconds more.

Nimbly, he landed at the Blue Spy’s back. But she was fast, too, and she turned to face him.

‘They won’t see. Insya Allah, they won’t have to see this.’

Knife brandished out, Jaka jumped back into the fray.

To put it simply, the town was crowded. Really crowded.

Ponyvillians, the whole lot of them, crowding the nearby intersection as they rushed to close the day. The nearby streets were packed almost shoulder to shoulder with all three equine tribes, and some other local people.

‘Hoooo boy…’

Ana stopped to catch her breath as she grasped the scope of what she was seeing. She’d had to slow her run down to a jog into town, honing into what her sniper’s gaze hinted would be the ideal vantage point. There. Close to the center, something that could only be Town Hall.

Ignoring the strange looks ponies and other lifeforms were throwing her way, Ana picked up the pace in a dash towards the large building, her barely-contained relief mingling with the burden of the rifle slung across her back, nearly depleted though it may be.

Having reached the entrance, she was just about to knock on the door when it opened, revealing a small gathering of villagers.

“And the nearest post should be...” The leader of the group, a dignified-looking, silver-haired bespectacled earthmare, paused in her sentence when she finally noticed Ana. “...warned?”

“Hi!” Ana loudly proclaimed, waving. “So, uh, I take it there’s been a commotion?”

Silence, with nary a whimper or a whinny. But then one of the presumed secretaries pushed up her glasses, while a stroppy-looking earthstallion narrowed his gaze. Finally, the lead mare cleared her throat.

“Uhm, yes… madam,” the mayor spoke. Ana’s heart sank, recognizing the tone, one she wagered as familiar to the people who hardly took her seriously. “We were in the middle of finding out what it was, but...”

“Great! Listen, and this is real important. I need to–”

“Beg pardon, ma’am, but is this… stranger bothering you?” inquired a distinctly accented, Southern voice from behind Ana, who whipped her head around to meet a goldenrod, orange-maned earthmare.

“What?” Ana told the startled mare. “No, no, no, just got to make an announcement!”

“Announcement? What kinda announcement?” the mare asked, taking a nervous step back. Past her interlocutor, Ana noticed more ponies pause in their steps and come up to the Town Hall, wanting to know what all the fuss was about.

‘We’ve been through this before, Ana. Keep your cool, don’t freak out, just… talk to them.’

“Okay, okay, just, bear with me right here,” Ana began, a finger raised. “But look here, there’s been some sort of trouble, and I really need someone to–”

“What in Skies is going on here?” demanded a dark-furred pegasus, a pale colt beside him, “Who’re you?”

“Hi!” she hurriedly replied. “I’m, uh, with the PHL?”

A crowd couldn’t be so bad. It meant more people to warn at once.

“The P-H-L?” chimed in an even smaller colt, of the earth, his fur even mottled in a pattern closer to that of Earth’s horses than Equestria’s. He was so tiny, Ana almost didn’t spot him, until some helpful pegasus raised him over the steadily-growing group of children. “Miss Twilight said she’s going with them. Dunno when she’ll be back, but are you one of those, um, Miss Cheerilee said they’re called humans?”

“Yes! That’s the on–”

“C’mon, Pipsqueak,” a pink filly sneered. “Look at her! She can’t be a human.”

“What?” Ana snapped. “Of course I am, what’re you–”

“Yeah,” the filly’s grey friend added. “Didn’t think humans were meant to be plant life.”

Both little brats giggled and laughed again.

“Plant life? Missy, I don’t know what’s gotten in your head, but–”

Ana’s indignant reply was cut short by a formal cough. “Pardon me, Miss, but did you say PHL?”

To her own disbelief, Ana immediately knew the source of the interruption for who he was. A chestnut earthstallion with an hourglass for a cutie mark and spiky dark brown hair, and a crossed-eyed grey pegasus mare not far from him, carrying her filly on her back...

But it was the older daughter that caught Ana’s eye. Without thinking, she scooped up the magenta mare in a loving embrace.

“Amethyst! Oh, I didn’t think you’d be here!” Ana exclaimed happily.

This brief moment of joy was interrupted by someone tugging at them disapprovingly.

“Miss, please let go of my daughter,” Mrs. Whooves said, frowning. “She may be of age, but this is inappropriate behavior toward a stranger.”

Ana knew the Derpy Doo of the PHL, a loving and protective parent. So she knew to gently release a baffled Amethyst, lest she risk a furious mother let loose.

“Sorry, I... thought you were your… counterpart,” Ana said sheepishly. “Had a giant griffon pull the same stunt on me just this morning, can you guys credit it?”

Fortunately, the other-Amethyst simply shrugged, waving her off with a friendly smile.

“It’s alright, we in the family get that a lot, Miss,” she said, in that awfully well-cherised, alien yet intimate voice. “But what were you gonna say about trouble?”

“Ah, right…” Ana exhaled fitfully. “Everyone needs to keep their heads up. We’ve got a serious threat lurking around, and we don’t want to risk casualties.”

“We can help you, Miss,” Amethyst said, to a supportive nod from her father and mother, and a particularly vigorous one from her little sister. “Although, first… you might want to take off your suit. It’s… unsettling.”

It was only then that Ana remembered her ghillie suit. Though it served as a near-perfect camouflage in the wild, against the rustic facade of the town, she stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Oh. Right.”

It was already a big crowd.

Ponies in Ponyville didn’t normally get into big crowds unless there was trouble. Cheerilee said so, and here she was with her friends and teacher.

Except if this was some sort of monster, it was a funny-looking one. Yeah, funny.

Ruby didn’t know what you were meant to do with such an odd creature. Mommy always said it wasn’t nice to stare or point at strangers, and she always did as Mommy told, she really did, or she tried to.

But it was just so hard not to giggle, seeing the creature on the steps of Town Hall! It looked like a big walking shrubbery. How many legs did a shrubbery need to walk on?

Then she got her answer. Even if she didn’t exactly see it for herself.

When the giant shrub-thing sprouted claws, weird fleshy claws, not full of scales like the ones Spike had, and reached up to take off its own head, Ruby realized it was just someone wearing a mask. And a suit shaped like a huge bush over its whole body.

Then it turned out that ‘something’ was a human.

Ruby took a step back, nervously.

“She’s telling the truth!” cried out someone’s voice.

It was Miss Sugarbean, Bonbon, the one Miss Heartstrings called her ‘ladyfriend’. Her mane was a matted, sweaty mess, like she’d just taken a long run on the school racetrack. And next to her, looking much less tired was...

Ruby almost jumped back. It looked like an earthmare. But if she was a mare, something about her felt a lot scarier than the shrub-creature on the stage. She did not move right. It was a lot like looking at a puppet who’d learned to move without their strings, but not well.

A forehoof made out of porcelain did not help.

“Listen to Miss Bjorgman,” said the puppet-mare. “Miss Sugarbean will back her up, yes. As will I. We are both PHL. And you are in grave danger.”

The Mayor stared at them. Then she made what Cheerilee would call an ‘executive decision’.

“Alright, EVERYONE!” the grey mare shouted. “Please head towards the train station, the Town Watch will be guarding it for safe passage in, and out of town!”

That got all her friends and classmates chatting. Even Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, who had been sniggering at the shrub-thing, which wasn’t nice, now looked baffled and wide-eyed.

But everyone started doing as they were told. No-one looked like they wanted to disobey.

“There’ll be warm drinks and blankets for everyone aboard,” added Miss Amethyst.

Chewing her lip, Ruby thought the Mayor seemed lost. Perhaps Silver Spoon always talked so proudly of having the town mayor for a mother, but her own Mommy kept saying that Miss Ivory Scroll sure wouldn’t be getting her vote each year.

It made sense. When weird things happened around here, she’d learnt that Miss Twilight was the mare to go to. But Miss Twilight and her friends weren’t here. The last time she’d seen them all together was when the human attacked.

… And that made her remember.

‘Listen, sweetie… how do you feel about… about humans?’

Ruby was not a silly child. She’d been taught to be careful around strangers. But then some of her friends, especially Scootaloo and Dinky, would start saying that Mommy was shyer than Miss Fluttershy, and that was not a good thing. Which was just stupid. Miss Fluttershy was shy, but she was also kind, and Ruby knew her mother was a very kind mare.

Even if she never did look happy on Hearts & Hooves Day, or around most stallions. Except for Big Mac, though he had scared Mommy once on Hearts & Hooves Day, dragging their whole house. But no-one could be shy around Big Mac for long, despite him being so tall. And Big Mac was up there, next to the human, taking charge of the Town Watch.

He’d know what to do.

Evading the forest of legs in the crowd, Ruby stepped onto the Town Hall’s porch. With a little hop and roll, she found herself a spot to spy on the human, out of sight. Unfortunately, her timing didn’t work out when at that very moment, Big Mac left the stage, leading the watchhorses along.

The human was now chatting to Nurse Redheart.

“Might be able to take them in, ma’am,” said the nurse. “After all, we’ve got some... prior experience with the Colonel.”

“Backup should be coming soon,” the human said. “You do your best. Anything goes, nurse, so please don’t beat yourself up. too much.”

“Will do… and... thank you.”

With the nurse gone, the human leaned herself against the building’s wall, wiping away a trickle of sweat from her brow.

Ruby watched as she twiddled her fingers, peeking around nervously.

She didn’t look like a shrub-creature at all. Her ‘fur’ was discarded to the side, and she’d been wearing a simple, rough get-up that would have earned her a chewing-out from Miss Rarity. But before Ruby could creep up, and give the human a little talk on behaving, someone else came into view, forcing her to scoot back to her hiding spot.

“Miss Bjorgman,” said the puppet-mare.

“... Miss Cutter,” the human, Miss Bjorgman, replied. She sounded odd, very unlike the lively shrub-thing that had spoken mere moments earlier. Like she was afraid.

“You climbed up a mountain to save lives,” Miss Cutter said. “And came all the way down. That’s who you are, yes?”

“Yes, I... I suppose I have...” Miss Bjorgman replied shortly, still in that odd voice.

Miss Cutter nodded curtly. “We’ll talk again soon. Take care of these sweetmeats. Sergeant Jaka is here too. I must return to him. Wish me luck.”

And she left without another word, leaving the human looking distinctively paler.

It was now or never. Slowly, Ruby crept up to the human, tugging at her pants.

“Eh? Who the…?” Miss Bjorgman grumbled, snapping out of that odd mood looming over her. But she paused the moment her eyes fixed on Ruby. “Oh, um, hello?”

The human had full-length, reddish-brown mane tied up like a pony’s tail, flowing down past what Ruby believed was her shoulder. and also had a pair of large, pretty blue eyes, both of which were now staring curiously at her.

And now for the hard part. Ruby had never talked to humans before. She wasn’t sure why the lady scared her. ‘Miss Bjorgman’ sounded nice enough, if a little confused, awkward even.

But Mommy said bad things about humans. And Ruby needed to know.

“Um, Miss?” Ruby began. “You with the P-H-L?”

What an odd set of letters! Luckily, the human picked up her meaning.

“Well, yeah!” Miss Bjorgman said, much more cheerfully. She had a sweet voice, and it made Ruby feel comforted. “So, little one, what is it? Is there any, uh, anything bad I can help with?”

“... Maybe.” Ruby answered nervously. “Are you a good human or a bad human?”

“Pardon?”

Ana couldn’t disguise her surprise and bewilderment.

“Um, Mommy said, humans are the real trouble,” the little pink earthfilly replied shyly. “We were talking about it earlier. I don’t think it’s her drinks, but she said so. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Hey, hey,” Ana said, kneeling down to the filly. “No offense taken, little girl. But… why would your mother say that?”

“Because... because...” the filly started nervously. But Ana rapidly put two and two together.

“What did she tell you about us?” she asked carefully. When the filly recoiled back fearfully, Ana held out the palm of her hand, an offer of peace. “It’s alright, it’s alright. I’m not mad.” She cracked a reassuring smile, or so she hoped. “But, little girl, I need you to tell me. What did your mother tell you about us?”

The filly remained quiet for a bit, yet Ana decided she could wait. One minute, no more. She’d trust the villagers to take care of their own, if only just enough to get started.

“Mommy says Doctor Catseye doesn’t like humans, and we should be careful, too,” the filly blurted out. “I’m sorry, I promise Mommy wants to be nice to the humans, but she doesn’t know how. She doesn’t know which ones are good or bad.”

Now that certainly caught Ana off guard.

‘Yeah, that’s, that’s certainly thrown us for a loop, eh, Ana?’ agreed the voice in her head.

"Did she now?” Ana said evenly. The filly nodded vigorously. “Well, um, is your mother here?” To which the filly shook her head, and though Ana didn’t let it show, her heart sank. “Do you mind me paying your mother a visit? There’s… something dangerous in the streets, and I was sent here to make sure everypony gets to safety.”

“Really?”

“Ja, really. So, um, would you help me find her? I don’t want anyone left behind.”

To Ana’s relief, the filly nodded again, and scooted over to the staircase, motioning for Ana to follow her. With a fond smile, Ana scooped up the filly and sat her upon her shoulder.

“So, what’s your name, little one?”

“My name’s Ruby Pinch,” chirped the filly. “But everypony calls me Ruby.”

“Ruby, that sounds nice,” Ana said sweetly. “I’m Ana.”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Ruby said suddenly. “Can’t go without telling Cheerilee.”

That name came so unexpectedly from the filly’s mouth, Ana stopped dead in her tracks.

“Cheerilee?” she repeated. “What’s…”

“Ruby!” cried a voice Ana immediately knew. “There you are! You had us all worried!”

Funny thing, these parallel universe shenanigans. First Moondancer, then Bonbon, and last but not least, Sparkler. Ana had met all these mares twice now. And like everyone else, she’d had to resist temptation and follow instructions not to seek out Ambassador Heartstrings.

She hadn’t prepared herself for this.

Meeting one of the top leaders of the PHL was not an event a lowly grunt could honestly admit to any time soon, yet Ana had heard the stories of a charming civilian who’d pushed herself to the spot of second-in-command Equestrian expatriate in the PHL. A down-to-earth mare who cared for everyone around her, took the time to bring children of every race together and teach them life’s basics. Rumored to have swatted away a copy of the Tyrant with her bare hooves, all to protect the children, human and otherwise.

Here she was, gently scolding a filly with an attitude fit for a mother.

‘Okay… I can see why the Colonel would move heaven and earth for her. She’s so adorable!’ It took Ana’s entire willpower not to squeal. ‘Focus!’

“Miss Bjorgman’s coming with me, Cheerilee,” Ruby explained to the gawking earthmare. “We’re gonna talk to Mommy. Wanna come along?”

Ponyville’s schoolteacher opened her mouth, then shut it, then spoke.

“As if I’d let you wander off with a random stranger, young lady,” Cheerille admonished the filly. “Forgive me, ma’am,” she said, addressing Ana. “I’m sure you’re trustworthy enough. But these foals are all my responsibility, and this one more than most. And with what happened to three of my pupils today already, I can’t believe she snuck out of my place.”

“I thought you’d want help rounding up all the colts and fillies!” protested Ruby.

“You’re as bad as the Crusaders,” Cheerilee sighed. “After your mother dropped you off… You know why she does that sometimes…”

Ana felt the filly’s body sag down on her shoulders.

“Yeah…” Ruby said quietly. “When she doesn’t want me to see her too sad.”

“Sorry if I’m treading on, uh, on sacred eggshells here,” Ana swallowed, fumbling for the correct expression in English. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea–”

“No, ma’am,” Cheerilee said firmly. “It’s best we all go the three of us together. Tough as it is, Ruby’s mother needs some sense knocked into her, and I’m not getting that done on my own. The way her daughter trusts you could be just the ticket. You scout ahead, I’ll catch up once I’ve delivered the children to the station.”

Hearing the words of one’s leader in this mare’s voice, one did not think twice to comply.

Many previous brushes with disaster had taught the Ponyvillians one good thing, at least. As Ana traversed the town at a brisk march, led on by a few prods from her charge, the villagers walked past them in the direction of the station, organized in little groups split evenly amongst the tribes – a ring of earthponies around the unicorns, pegasi overhead watching out for both. So far, evacuation was proceeding quietly, in an orderly fashion.

From experience, Ana worried this wouldn’t last without greater, armed supervision. Yet she had to hand it in to these Equestrians. They might not have training, but they had practice. Hopefully it would be enough.

“Well,” Ana said slowly. “Why does your mother think humans are trouble?”

“I’m sorry, she gets worried,” Ruby whispered. From her previous experience in working with little kids, Ana could tell that despite her soothing words, the filly feared she’d harm her. In her chemistry classes, children had this weird idea that only the teacher was really dangerous. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? It’s okay,” Ana assured her, letting out a small laugh. “Your mother’s just worried about you, Ruby.”

“I know,” Ruby said. “We look after each other.”

Something in her voice told Ana of what really mattered. “It’s okay…” she whispered to the little filly riding her shoulders. “My Dad’s gone too.”

Ruby looked down. “Will you be nice to her?”

“Cross my heart.”

Seeing her charge smile so sweetly, Ana felt filled with determination. But that didn’t last long, when the two found a group of ponies blocking their way. One of the Town Watch was conversing with an anxious rose-maned, pale-coated mare. She scarcely picked a word of their dialogue, for another mare – this time a the color of raspberry, with an amber mane – pointed in her direction.

Sighing, Ana gently sat Ruby on one of the benches.

“Stay here, Ruby, okay? I’ll go talk to them.”

Confident the child would stay within her field of view, Ana walked over to the group.

“There it is, officer!” the rose-maned mare shrieked. “That’s the shrub monster!”

“It shed off its fur, but it’s the very same monster, officer, please!” begged her raspberry friend. “You have to destroy it before it eats all the flowers!”

“The horror, the horror!” wailed a third mare, light magenta in color.

Now Ana realized all three of them were florists. The officer, a grey, messy-haired stallion, pierced her with a look of scrutiny and wariness. And smiled.

“Evening, Trainer Bjorgman, didn’t expect to see you here,” Cookie Batch greeted, waving a friendly hoof, much to the shock of the flower trio.

“Hey, Cookie,” Ana replied kindly. “How’s the training range going over with Fillydelphia Comp? Heard you guys scored top marks last week.”

She tried hard to ignore the faces of the flower trio. They looked close to hyperventilating.

“Ah, we’re still struggling with the heavy calibre. I’ll keep it up, ma’am,” Batch chuckled, his native Ponyvillian slipping through, back here in his hometown. “Didn’t know you were around. These fine ladies were fussing over the shrub-thing they said they saw over at Town Hall. What’re the odds that it was you all along eh?”

“Small world,” Ana grinned brightly. “‘Bout the heavy rounds, might wanna keep that shoulder relaxed. You don’t want to end up with...”

“But... it’s right there!” the rose-maned mare insisted. “Arrest her!”

For all that Ana yearned to rebuke her, she was glad Batch intervened when he did.

“Ma’am, I can assure you, this woman’s as harmless as humans get,” the officer interjected. “No, if anything, you should worry about your chocolate with her around,” he added jokingly. “Move along, and head towards the station. Mayor’s orders.”

The trio of mares glared fearfully at Ana, no doubt still worried about their presumed flowers. But eventually, they trotted off.

“Thanks for that, Cookie.”

“No problem, ma’am. Really, it’s just a small favor. So, what brought you here?”

“Nah, wish I could tell ya,” Ana said casually. “But the higher-ups think it should be classified.”

“It’s always classified nowadays,” Batch said resignedly. “Can’t go anywhere without a permit. But, well, I suppose all things considered…”

“RUBY!”

A loud scream pierced the air, and Ana instinctively turned around. To see a plum-colored mare staring back at her with wide eyes, her hooves wrapped around Ruby.

“What the–” Batch interjected in surprise.

“Berry?!” shouted Cheerilee, trotting up, too late, the path Ana and Ruby had just traveled. “Berry, stop!”

“Stay away!” Berry screeched at her. “I trusted you! Whenever it all got too much, you’re the mare who’d take proper care of my Ruby! I trusted you!”

Desperately, Cheerilee got between Ana and the furious mother, a hoof held out. “No, Berry, please listen! You and Ruby are in danger–”

“From her!” Berry shrieked, taking several steps away from Ana, Ruby in her grasp.

“For Celestia’s sake, have you heard yourself talk?” Cheerilee yelled at her. “Didn’t we all need to learn something from Zecora?”

“It’s not the same!” Berry shouted back. “She only looked scary! These humans… you don’t know what they can do, what they’re capable of… what you are capable of… You are just… It won’t take much to guess, I’ve heard about the other you!”

“W-what?! Is that why you’d been avoiding me? Berries… you... how can you…”

No other word for it – Cheerilee wilted beneath the accusing glare Berry fired her way, utter devastation invading her features. Gritting her teeth, Berry began to tug at the small filly, pulling her away.

“Mommy, no!” Ruby pleaded. “You said…”

“What do you think was making those awful noises?!” Berry roared into her daughter’s ears, releasing a hoof to point at Ana’s slung rifle. “She was! She and that horrible weapon of hers! That’s the sound a monster makes, you can’t pretend otherwise! We’ve got to run!”

“Wait,” Ana shouted. “WAIT! Ma’am, I need to talk to you!”

“Berries, don’t run, please…” Cheerilee pleaded.

“I… I’m sorry.” Berry whispered as she turned. With Ruby on her back, she galloped off, before either anyone could react.

… And the Spy was still at large.

Without a second thought, Ana ran after them, dimly aware she was not alone in pursuit.

He’d missed this time.

The Spy knew his strikes could hurt. The animal force of a human body could doll out pain equal to any weapon’s without the kill. A second booted swipe forced her to dodge, and the human martial artist, having missed her, inadvertently landed his flying kick onto one of the countless white picket fences doting this plasticine model of a village.

Another miss. He must be getting tired. But he was not the only one.

The human turned. “You can’t go on forever!” he bellowed, heaving and panting. “The village is emptying, Blue Spy! Isn’t that what you aimed for? It’s enough!”

“No,” the Spy said coldly. “You can take the villagers out of the village, but you can’t take a traitor’s heart out of a traitor…”

Without warning, she stabbed for his chest, yet he evaded her.

“... Except for one way.”

Groaning, he stepped away at an even pace to resume battle stance, and she swiped. But blade clashed against blade as a well-known interloper re-entered fray.

The Blue Spy had been involved in the worst fighting of the war, deep in covert operations the world over. Throughout it all, she’d never met a mare with quite the lust for blood like the one before her, a demented eye staring from behind her bangs. As to be expected, Cutter was less skilled in her use of a knife, but she moved at a speed so uncannily fast, the Spy had to remind herself this was still, after all, a mere pony.

And like it or not, the Spy was getting slow...

‘You have to kill them.’

Once more, the words inside her head acted as a shot of adrenaline to her nervous system. Snarling, the Spy felt her whole body criss-crossed as if by an electric spark, and went for a mighty lunge against Cutter, bringing even this maniac to stumble backward under the force of clashing blades.

Her body would keep on fighting long after her spirit gave out.

“Berry Punch, you open this door, RIGHT NOW!”

Berry lifted the curtains slightly, peaking outside, where a mare she’d once thought she knew was banging angrily at her front door. With a little shake of her head, she closed them again, then turned to her daughter.

“Ruby, listen, please,” she said pleadingly, holding the flesh of her kin close. “We’ve got to leave now, it’s not safe anymore.”

But Ruby frowned and shook her head. “Mommy, there’s a lady trying to help us, she was coming here with me. And why’re we running from–”

“NO!” Berry shouted, feeling the corner of her eyes go white in fear. “No, you’re not following that human! Ruby, that’s not, that’s not good at all.”

“BERRY!” yelled Cheerilee’s muffled voice from outside. “If you won’t let me in, then please, whatever you do, don’t try running out again! Lock yourself down, board the windows, lie low, you and Ruby! It’s the only way to keep her safe until this blows over!”

This did nothing except tighten the imaginary noose Berry felt around her neck. More terrified than ever, she picked up Ruby and placed her back for a ride, aligned to her saddlebags. They had to get away, and fast.

“I’m done locking myself in, Junebug,” she whispered. “Sorry I had to lock you out of my life...”

“Mommy, wait! She’s coming to help us–”

“SHE’S NOT!” Berry cried frantically. “It’s an act, it’s always an act. They’ll capture us and kill us, Ruby, don’t you understand?!”

She sensed her little daughter go stiff as a board across her back. Her mind was a-scramble, hardly able to recollect all the things she’d stuff into her saddlebags mere minutes ago. A mad hope was all she had left, to get her child somewhere safe.

Cheerilee had led a good life.

A happy childhood, with loving parents, a fine sister, even a job which she loved to wake up for everyday. The only thing missing would be the perfect stallion to snuggle with by the hearthfire in the evenings, but well, you couldn’t have everything, and it was by no means a lost cause. Everything was normal, or as close to normal as one could get in Ponyville, with its Element Bearers, Cutie Mark Crusaders and weekly monsters, and she gave her nightly thanks for it.

Then came a new creature, the human Marcus Renee. And the war of the worlds had followed in his wake, accompanied by word of a stranger discovery than she’d ever known. Out there existed another Equestria, another Celestia, another her. Not all of them blossomed into the people she’d have wished to see grow. More than two months on, Cheerilee still didn’t know what she should think about herself.

When she’d received that quiet invitation from Princess Cadance, her reaction then had been bewilderment over receiving no visit from her double, as this other Vinyl Scratch had done in company of the tall human to the DJ’s own house shared with Octavia. That said, no surprise to learn later on that Vinyl had acted outside of recommended parameters. Going to meet one Princess of Love weighed heavily enough on the humble schoolteacher – two princesses wearing the same face, gently telling her by bits and pieces who she was in the other world, now that had marked a turning point in her life.

And here she was, banging at Berry’s closed door.

“She won’t answer me,” Cheerilee sharply turned to inform Miss Bjorgman, keeping down the tremor in her voice with great difficulty. “I’ve seen her like this before, but never with Ruby close by! Berry, stop! What you need’s a bedrest and a cup of hot chocolate!”

“I’ll second her on that!” said Bjorgman. “Miss Berry, I know a place, only, please come out!”

One mare, two different people. Just like she and her other.

Whereas one Princess Cadance would nip at her wings nervously, for she was young and still inexperienced, yet hopeful, the other Princess of Love evoked a paler, older, more bitter and careworn mare, without even functional wings upon which to fly from her troubles.

How could she, Cheerilee, be the same figure from those leaflets, posters and photographs they’d shown her, exuding confidence and leadership, oft at the side of an equally proud and well-groomed Lyra Heartstrings, when she couldn’t get dear Berry to open up to her?

The screech of rusty hinges briefly gave her some hope. Then she realized it had carried all the way from the old, wormridden backdoor.

“They’ve left,” Cheerilee told Bjorgman. “Quick, follow me!”

Cutter’s return had provided the opening Jaka needed.

With a long stride, he slammed into the Spy, sending them both tumbling. Avoiding the blow from another knife swerving dangerously close to his face, he used his free, uninjured hand to hold her down by the neck, while the other went for his pocket. He didn’t have much time to pull off this trick.

Swiftly, the Spy bucked him in the chest, releasing her from his hold. Seething, she scowled at him and her horn’s tip lit up, preparing to teleport away…

… and failed.

She blinked, attempting another spell. Her horn fizzled and died once more. Only then, she became aware of the small grey ring stuck around her horn’s base. Jaw agape, the furious mare gazed all around, to see all her knives lying motionless on the cobblestones.

‘Thank you, Ana and Dancer...’ Jaka thought as he stood back up.

The Spy gave Jaka a glare, one which he returned in kind.

“Orichalcum, is it now?” the Spy spat hatefully. “No matter.”

“Even ground,” Jaka declared. “You’ve got no more weapons, Blue Spy. Give up this fight. I would prefer not to combat an unarmed opponent.”

“Unarmed? That’s what you think.”

Pawing at the ground, she lowered her bound horn, preparing for a gallop.

But what, in the confusion, Jaka had spotted and the Spy hadn’t, was Cutter, edging in three-hoofedly from the Spy’s left. Her blade had folded back into her prosthetic’s recesses, replaced by a tranquilizer’s needle. All would be over soon.

Then the Spy’s head and ears flicked up as she saw something behind him.

This magenta mare, and the filly on her back… the Spy had seen them before...

... No doubt Miss Punch is still frightened downstairs, but the mother had been reassured of the safety of her child, resting upon the bed. Another mare and her companion, the former Royal Guard, enter. The good Doctor Catseye has agreed to join their meeting.

From now, she alone would be the keeper of their dreams...

A stranger’s memories entered her mind, but the Spy didn’t care. Hardly a novel occurrence, not since she’d first taken her knife to a target’s throat. She’d learned to live with the voices. None of whom were here now.

No, this was when the Spy truly identified the enemy. She moved swiftly.

The human had expected her to run him down, not run around him. To his credit, his reflexes were fast. Foregoing any fancy martial arts, he tried to jump her. But she did a barrel roll, and he succeeded only at tearing hairs off her tail.

And just like that, the Blue Spy was upon them. The mare, who’d been staring at her with unbelieving eyes, screamed and reared back, the child fell, and she took what she wanted. Without a second wasted, she lunged forward and grabbed the falling child, doing another roll to come back standing, as upright as any human, while the hysterical mare tumbled in turn.

The Spy faced her challengers.

“Now yield, or the girl perishes,” she said simply, as the child squirmed in her hold. “I grow weary of these delays. You are an impediment on my path to the brickyard, Cutter, but your interference falls merely under the penalty of Sanction Two. Out of my way, and maybe you can run fast as your miserable legs will carry you, before I break them.”

“Tempting,” smiled Cutter, raising her prosthetic. “But the job’s half done already, yes. Besides, cannot let you do that. Right now, you are the most dangerous end result of American and German military collaboration since Rammstein Air Base. And we do not want these squishy four-legged jellybeans to see what a mess that’d make. Do we?”

As for the treacherous human, he held his ground, dark eyes glaring deeply into her own.

“I don’t know what went down in that forest.” The human spoke calmly, yet everyone could see he still had his knife brandished. “But the crisis at the brickyard is over. I took charge of it. My team got their trial by fire from it. Only two are dead, both criminals under this country’s laws. No innocent blood must be shed this evening. Please.”

But the Spy said nothing.

She had just enough time to see the blur of a hoof coming at her face. Unable to react, the Spy felt it connected with her jaw, sending her stumbling back, amidst the barrage of rage-ridden cries and screams from a mother fighting for her daughter’s life.

“Not my DAUGHTER, you MONSTER!” shrieked the mare.

And then the child bit her, sharp, forcing her to let go.

“There they are!” Bjorgman cried to Cheerilee, skidding to a halt, unholstering her sidearm.

“What are you waiting for!” Cheerilee cried back, still rushing on. “Do something!”

“Can’t, not like this!” Bjorgman wailed. “I could hit any one of them by mistake!”

Gritting her teeth, Cheerilee faced the crisis before her. “Then I’m going in!”

“No, please! J-just wait! I’ll make this right!”

“Ruby!”

Berry pulled the filly away from the monster in pony form, kicking out a hindleg into its snout as it tried to grab a hold of her daughter once more.

“I got you baby, Mommy’s got you!” Berry cried as she stumbled away, watching as the unicorn turn its blank stare onto herself with determination. “Get away from us!”

“I will never stop,” the unicorn answered with a blank tone, struggling to get up. Berry swallowed as she placed Ruby onto her back and began to run away from area.

“Hey!” the human female shouted. “You two, over here!”

Berry halted at the shouts, fear running rampant in her mind as it was screaming at her that she was surrounded by monsters and demons bent on killing Ruby. But maybe it was better to run towards the two legged beast, at least to buy time to escape as they fought it out with each other. To Berry’s unbelieving eyes, the alien creature next to Cheerilee drew its weapon, and pointed it at somewhere behind her. Looking back that way, her blood turned to ice as she saw the huffing form of the murderous unicorn stand up fully with a dagger in hoof.

The unicorn’s eyes were blank as they zeroed in on her, only for stare contact to break when two blurry figures, the male human and the unreal mare, seized the maniac, bearing down with their whole strength against her mad struggle, all snapping jaws, steaming withers and foaming mouth, the spittle flying everywhere.

“Hold the Spy!” the unreal mare yelled to him. “I must sedate her!”

“Please, ma’am!” the human cried out, making Berry flinch, almost dropping Ruby from her back again. “We can get you to safety, trust us!”

Berry hesitated, trembling as she stared at the human’s large blue eyes, both of which were wet with unspilt tears. But a glance up at her daughter made her realize just how much Ruby Pinch trusted this human.

“A-alright,” she said hesitatingly. “I’ll...”

“NO!”

A hard impact stung her side, flinging away Ruby.

The world turned into a swimmy daze for Berry, down became up, up became down. One moment her sight circling, catching a glimpse of the male human lying prostrate on the ground, the unreal mare limping away from him. The next moment, she stared up at the clear pink-and-blue skies above, Celestia’s mighty charge going into rest, just out her field of view. And it didn’t hurt to look at.

A voice whispered in her ear. “You’re not going anywhere. No, you’ll answer for your crimes.”

Blinding pain stabbed into her neck.

She heard her daughter scream, a wail from who-knows-where, saw the streets of her home, here and not here. The Town Hall, the well-ordered boutique, the colorful bakery… the old family vineyard… the schoolhouse… her home.

Every little move she tried to make pressured on her, more and more, like a leaden knell.

‘I’m sorry… Junebug…’

Her breathing grew shallow and ragged, a rainbow of colors passed by her eye, and the world faded into a white void.

‘R-Ruby....’

The sun set.

A woman’s cry rang out across the village.

Time, as the expression goes, ground to a halt for Pina.

Of course, that was mere illusion of the senses, brought on by sudden overload to her system. Not shock, not exactly, but a quickening realization that the balance in this playing field had momentarily shifted against her. For a rare, minute point, she felt as distant from her own, pumped-up body as she did from every other walking sack of meat in the world.

In this place, one such bloodbag had ceased its beat.

A whole stream of images flashed behind her eyes, a fast and heady rush, in stark contrast with the slowness of the world outside her headspace, calling back to mind all the exciting visions she had picked, sifted, and filtered out to turn away from the path to glorious frenzy. In vain now. Once other, say, less hungry eyes beheld this, it’d be like a dust mote in their sight, tiny but rubbed red raw. And who knew what might come from that? Certainly no harmony.

One single thought summed up what she and poor, sweet Miss Bjorgman had witnessed.

‘Objective…’ Pina assessed detachedly. ‘... failed.’

Ah, if only the Ambassador could see them now.

And the world slowed to a crawl for Ana Bjorgman, assaulted by just one image, that of the mother and her murderer, and the trembling child in front of them, she’d been looking away, please, she hadn’t actually seen what happened, but now she’d turned around and the Spy was staring at them unfeelingly, Sergeant Jaka on the ground, the shadow of a smirk on Pineapple Cutter’s lips while she basked in some joke no-one else could share...

Cold suddenly rose from the cobblestones beneath Ana, an icy chill washed over her, a familiar, shrill cry sounded in her mind. A year, ten years, a century had passed, when she understood that the Spy had committed a murder. The cruel, heartless murder of a mother, in front of her child. And Ana had failed to act on it.

She hadn’t made the shot.

‘Murderer.’

Ana screamed. “Step away! STEP AWAY! Stay the hell away from the child, you BEAST!”

She didn’t mean to shriek. But it got the Spy’s attention, alright. Defiance coursing in her veins, Ana stared down the Spy, her hand grasping ever tighter on her sidearm, mind dead set on immediately dispatching the murderer.

Right now, she couldn’t care less if they were brainwashed. As far as she was concerned, a child had seen her own mother die before her eyes. Protocol be damned, Ana would see to the Spy’s comeuppance. She cocked back the hammer on her handgun for emphasis, ready to put a hole in this beast’s head.

“You,” the Spy stated solemnly. Her horn dripped with blood. “You were the sniper.”

“Yes, yes, I was!” Ana screeched, never taking her eyes off the Spy. “What’s it to you?”

The Spy pointed towards Ruby. But Ana scarcely picked up on her tormentor’s words, for the filly was beginning to cry.

“This child belonged to a traitor. Someone dedicated to bringing down the PHL for the Solar Empire. I cannot let her live as her mother di–”

“SHUT UP!”

Ana yelled, yet still she did not fire. She would make this right, do it correctly. “SHUT UP! I don’t give a DAMN if the mother was one of those, those Catseye followers or whatever the hell they are, I don’t care if you’re the Blue Spy herself, so help me, I’ll blow your God-forsaken head off if you lay a paw on that child, step away NOW, then I can BLOW off your HEAD!”

A deathly silence fell upon deserted village street, with only the filly’s whimpers and her own ragged breathing filling the air.

“So,” the Spy began, eyes narrowed. A drop of red spilt upon her muzzle. “You’d kill me, all for the sake of a traitor’s child?”

Even though Ana knew her target would evade it, she opened fire.

True to her thoughts, the Spy rolled aside, several spherical objects – smoke bombs – leaving her hoof, to promptly explode and cover the area with a thick black cloud. She vanished within before Ana could readjust her sights.

Not good. Not good at all. Now, she could no longer even see Jaka and Pina.

But something snapped Ana out of worry. The sobs of a child. Looking to her right, she saw that Ruby must have ran when she should, ran to the closest source of warmth and comfort. Ran into Cheerilee’s embrace.

The schoolteacher hugged the child, mechanically, her eyes looking at something faraway.

“Shh…” Cheerilee hushed Ruby, tightening her grip. “Ruby…” Her voice cracked like plastic. And listening to her, an old, wintery chime from deep within Ana’s own mind echoed with a pain of loss she’d never understood. “Berries… get up… Ruby needs you… We both do...”

‘For the first time in forever… we can fix this hand in... hand…’

Ruby whimpered into Cheerilee’s chest. “Mommy, I want my mommy. She’s... she's not moving...”

“I know you do, sweetheart…” Cheerilee whispered. “She’ll be happy soon...”

But Ruby thought the words rang hollow.

“The smoke’s clearing…” came the voice of Miss Bjorgman. The bushy lady. “And… where’d they all go… where’s Pina… she… she must have gone after the… the Spy… Hope the Sarge’s okay, looks like he’s breathing…”

The human’s shadow fell across them both. “Hey, Ruby, stay here,” Miss Bjorgman said, in a voice wobbling like someone trying hard not to cry. “I’ll give your mother a blanket, okay?”

“Blanket?” Cheerilee repeated. Ruby saw Miss Bjorgman take off her ratty-looking vest.

“It’s an old thing, served me well ever since my time in Indonesia…” the lady explained softly. “It’ll serve well here.”

Hearing those words, Ruby felt her heart tighten. She hugged her Aunt Junebug all the tighter.

Ana bit her lip as she covered the mare’s body.

It was the least she could do. Berry’s eyes were closed, no breath passed her lips. A steady trickle of red pooled out on the cobblestones. Distantly, as she covered that, too, Ana wondered if this village had lived such a thing before. She could have believed it of the Empire, but with Ruby and Cheerilee at her back, each still weeping softly, it didn’t seem possible.

“Bjorgman, just what were you thinking with that stunt right there?”

Jaka’s gruff voice interrupted her thoughts. And for the first time, he was less than welcome.

‘For goodness sake, Sarge...’

“Corporal,” Jaka said sternly, clutching his side. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, to send you running into the danger zone–”

His words pounded, hammered on Ana’s exhausted mind.

“Stop... right there... Sarge...” she grunted, a finger jabbed into Jaka’s chest.

Deep down, Ana knew that if she’d been any other of his subordinates, the Sergeant would have twisted both her arms where she stood. She didn’t care. Didn’t care that he’d just returned from his own brush with the great beyond. All she saw, swimming before her eyes, was a small, broken body, blanketed only by an old vest she, Ana Bjorgman, would today have worn for the last time.

It actually gave her some satisfaction to see him flinch under her hooded glare.

“I made my decision, Jaka,” Ana whispered. “In hindsight, it wasn’t a good decision, but I made my call, and I’m not about to regret it, not that, plenty of regrets on my plate, not that, no. Would you deem this acceptable, sir?”

His face was unreadable as ever. Although, perhaps, she did see a pulse throb in his temple. Eventually, though, she felt her body unstiffen, for, by a twitch of the hand pressed over his bruised side, she could tell Jaka would relent.

“Take the child and… Miss Cheerilee, inform the authorities and leave the area, Ana,” he instructed her. “Cutter and I will deal with the Spy. Make sure evacuation is completed, get all medics on standby.”

At that, Ana’s glare gradually seeped away.

“Alright, Sarge,” Ana nodded, holstering her handgun. “Glad we could come to an agreement. But… with all due respect, do you really think you can beat her?

“No,” Jaka said laconically. “But I, too, must make my call. Take care of these civvies… Corporal. And remember to contact the right authorities.”

Never a man of excessive words, he departed, without giving her a second glance.

Suppressing a sigh, Ana pulled out her thankfully intact radio.

“Hello…” she said wearily. “This is Nordjfell…”

The Sergeant was jogging toward Cutter’s last transmitted co-ordinates, frowning as he made his way between the abandoned homes, with a caution born from experience. The weight on his chest and knees wasn’t going away. Ahead, a strange commotion echoed from inside the house pin-pointed by Cutter.

Something smashed out the window, landing on the scree of the rooftop. Looking closer, Jaka realized it was Cutter, sighing as she pulled herself up. The Spy jumped out the broken window after her, and their ever-lasting fight renewed.

“Do neither of you ever surrender?”

The Spy scarcely interrupted her fight to address him from atop the cottage’s thatched roof.

“No,” Jaka told her, his breathing ragged, aware he wouldn’t be making it out of there alive. “Not until the civilians are safe. Hold on, Operative, I’ll be up!”

With her injured leg, although Cutter showed no visible signs of distress, the uncanny speed which characterized her fighting style could not be called upon for help any longer. Making matters worse, despite her continued defiance the eclectic mare had fallen back into her usual languidity, her every swipe a half-hearted move, looking more bored than anything.

“So this is what happens, yes,” Cutter muttered drily. “What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object...”

“Key difference,” retorted the Spy. “Forces goes in all directions. Objects… fall.”

And, in an abrupt burst of energy, she hurtled forth and punched straight into Cutter with a vicious uppercut , an impact which sent the other mare teetering to the roof’s edge. She hung there in a mid-air for a split second, then, as her opponent had predicted, she fell.

When asked later, Jaka could never quite tell why he caught her. He cared as little for Pineapple Cutter’s acerbity or unsettling mannerism as anyone in the PHL. Besides, even on Earth, a fall from two storeys would almost certainly not be lethal, let alone here on Equus.

But she was a comrade, and so was the Spy.

His hasty leap forward to intercept her tiny, frail frame in his outstretched good arm landed them both within the house’s front porch – and at a safe distance from the resounding ‘thud’ on the ground of the implacable assassin’s failed drop-kill.

“Now I’ve got a… headache…” Cutter complained in his arms. “She had to aim for the head! You never aim for the head! Makes one unable to feel anything else. Meanwhile she goes and takes a proper rooftop dive. Bitch gets all the excitement.”

Winded, Jaka turned to face the Spy getting back to her hooves, her last knife in her mouth.

He felt his throat contract at the sight of this killing machine. The Spy could not protect them from herself. The crazed sadomasochist couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t stop her. Even if Colonel Renee chose to cut loose now and intervene, it would likely be at the cost of her life. And either way, his was now forfeit. Yet he’d promised himself he’d never plead for mercy.

‘La ilaha illah-lah, muhammadur rasulu-llah...’ Jaka recited fleetingly in his thoughts. ‘No, they won’t see this. La ilaha illah-lah, muhammadur rasulu-llah...’

The Spy rested a forehoof on the railing, and pulled the knife from her jaws’ grip with the other.

“It ends now,” she stated dispassionately, raising the blade.

The moment she struck, however, the knife flung off her grip, in a shower of sparks. Surprised, they looked over, to the right, for the source of the attack, and saw a familiar man kneeling in the grass at the foot of a hill on the edge of village and Forest, a firearm in hand.

“TRIXIE, DON’T!”

With those two, simple words, the Spy halted in her tracks.

Ignoring the collapsing, battered man and mare before her, the Spy darted around, determined to end the life of the foolish person who’d dared shoot her, to stop her kill…

But who? Who exactly, had dared to stop her?

The intruder stood tall, his firearm still aimed her way, an ejected a cartridge on the ground. Now the Spy knew for sure who’d shot the knife out of her grasp. He also looked battered and terribly worn, but nonetheless, prepared for battle.

The Spy took a step forward, set on eliminating this new… threat? Was this man a threat?

‘No…’

Yes, he was. Her immediate commanding officer had made that clear. The man standing before her was a traitor, a traitor to the PHL, intent on stealing technology for the war effort, for the cause of a mad queen.

‘What am I doing…’

No emotional compromise allowed. His past allegiances, and attachments, were irrelevant.

‘Somebody…’

“Stephan Bauer. So, it is you who are my target,” she said dispassionately. “I'd be disappointed. But you taught me better than that. Thanks to you, I can finish this job.”

‘Save me… please.’

Stephan didn’t say a thing, concentrating on keeping his handgun steady in both hands. He watched her every movement, many different scenarios running through his head at once. The correct moment would be key to victory, or to defeat, and it could come in the blink of an eye. Too much lay at stake. Either his tactic was going to work, or he would have to put her down. The thought of it alone hurt his heart…

…But both of them had agreed, a long time ago, that if this kind of situation occurred, should either one of them get turned to the wrong side, the other wouldn’t hesitate to put an end.

Just like the professionals they were.

Trixie jumped forward, ready to strike. Stephan aimed and fired a few quick shots, but his mare moved quickly, scaling to the right and left, so that his shots missed her by inches. He knew she didn’t want to attack head-on, except that with her magic held back by the ring, she had no other choice. Her best course of action would be to wait until Stephan used up the magazine’s remaining bullets. Though he didn’t doubt his aim, a moving target at this distance, constantly switching directions, would be much harder to hit.

Stephan fired his last few rounds, and then with a ‘click’, the slide of his handgun stayed open.

Empty. This was the moment Trixie had been waiting for. She ran towards where her lost knife lay half-buried in the tall grass, seizing it, a look of glee on her face thanking her attacker’s thoughtlessness in anticipating her move...

But that, that was the moment Stephan had been waiting for.

Too late, Trixie noticed the flashbang he’d locked between the ground and his knee to keep the lever from releasing.

And the pin was already pulled.

The blow of the explosion struck her back.

Dazed but not yet down, the Spy staggered. Then a sharp knock, of a different sort, struck her once more, and this time, she was sent tumbling to the ground. Teeth set on edge, senses back on full alert against this new opponent, she rolled over and lashed out in a brutal swipe of her right hoof, only for her to feel something wet and sticky latch upon her wrist.

Before the Spy could gauge what was happening, the lasso of green wax yanked painfully towards her left, forcibly rolling her back onto her belly in a rough landing. Dazed, she barely managed to mentally kick herself into reaching out with her free left hoof and press the ground, her nerves screaming at her not to throw this fight.

Unfortunately, her opponent had seen this coming, and a new green tendril whipped itself around her other wrist, the tip of it swiftly snaking around her hoof's base to meld with its own lower cord, solidifying instantly. Gasping, the Spy saw both her lassoed wrists get pulled behind her exposed back, just as the weight of a cold, heavy hoof pressed into her withers, preventing the mare from doing anything more as her attacker smartly tied her wrists together.

Helplessly, the Blue Spy glared up at the tall, insect-like figure pinning her down.

“Ah-ah-aah,” smirked the Changeling Queen, wagging her left forehoof, “looks like we’ve caught ourselves a runaway little bug, now, haven’t we?”

Stephan marched up to Chrysalis as she watched Trixie struggle, unrestrained hindlegs desperately kicking at the ground. The two other Changelings beside her were keeping their eyes trained on the mare like a hawk.

“Nice work, children,” cackled the Queen. “Now, let Mother deal with this naughty drone.”

The Changeling mare beside her beamed with pride as she severed the lasso of green wax extruding from her forehooves, before reassuming her emotionless expression and stepping back to join her brethren on the sidelines.

Not far, Harwood knelt down to check on Jaka and Cutter. He gave an all-clear sign to Stephan before resuming his ministrations. The pegasus lieutenant, in the meantime, had set up a perimeter surrounding the area, alert to any unwanted looks.

The approaching group of Town Watch in the distance, led by a large apple-red earthstallion, were a welcome sight.

“Ah, good, Major. You're here,” Chrysalis greeted him.

With a snarl, Trixie made an energetic attempt to buck one of Chrysalis’ hindlegs from underneath her. But the Queen nimbly sidestepped the blow, curving the targeted leg to stomp upon her thrashing hips instead. Groaning with frustration, Trixie bit her lip, drawing blood, as the much larger Changeling's two right hooves kept her firmly in place.

“So, tell me, what shall I do with her?” Chrysalis smiled, roughly pressing the captured mare further against the ground as she looked to him. “Hatred. Fear. Love. A concoction so heady, it almost makes my brain hurt. Well, isn’t that interesting… There seems to be some sort of… inner conflict, I’d say, within her.”

Stephan took a deep breath. “Das ist... gut.” he quietly mumbled, switching to his native language at the news. “It means she’s still in there. We have a chance. She must be taken to Luna.”

Queen Chrysalis shook her head with a low chuckle. “Luna? Pff, just what does fat Moonbutt have and I don’t?” she asked, waving her hoof airily. “The Princess may possess skills in weaving dreams, a power I sadly lack, but to deal with my stray bug here, one need first clear the way. Elsewise, you might be left with a cracked, empty shell, hm?”

Again, she stomped down on the struggling Trixie’s left hoof.

“Given I’m here, not Woona,” the Queen continued, “We can get started now! It wouldn’t be very much, oh no, the rest would be your problem. I’ll simply, ah, trim her mind off a few nagging things, put her to sleep, and she’s all yours, Such a pity,” she finished with a cackle, baring her fangs. “After coming all this way, I did fancy myself a little snack...”

All of a sudden, in defiance of his toughened soldier's instincts, Stephan had to fight down the bile he felt rising in his throat. This was not, indeed, the faded, broken mare he'd met in Iceland. Now he’d seen just what Queen Chrysalis was at the height of her power.

This creature was born with a door into other's minds such as the Tyrant could only dream of. Perhaps not all hive queens were possessive or domineering by nature. But the way this one was holding down Trixie, as if the mare were a prized trophy, left little doubt that whatever remaining boundaries she assured him and Captain Armor she’d vowed to never cross, Chrysalis still enjoyed treating flesh-and-blood people as playthings for her own amusement.

Marcus’ words echoed through his pounding head. ‘She's not your doll.’

He felt ashamed. Poor Trixie. Wasn’t this the reason she’d agreed to this trip with him to Ponyville? Only now, between that, her subsequent involuntary rampage, and finally ending up in the clutches of a hungry Changeling, what should have been a chance for his girlfriend to once again be herself, might only have led them to the edge of losing all that was left of her.

“No!” Stephan objected unequivocally, glaring at the Queen. “She’s not one of your drones! Should you try forcing a connection, it will create a backlash on the both of you.”

“Oh, how bad can it be, I wonder?” Chrysalis raised an eyebrow..

“Brain-melting comes to mind.” Stephan held his head, eyes closed to think. “It's dangerous, that's all I know. Beyond that, it's up to Trixie to tell you, not me. If you are anything like the old queen was, then please help her, and nothing else.”

There was no distrust in his voice, no hint of anger or even sorrow. He had to be strong now. For Trixie.

“Oh, fine,” Chrysalis said with a roll of her eyes. “Ah, well, guess there’ll be another time. Hush, little maggot, go to sleep...” she said, lighting her horn nonchalantly to cast the beginnings of a sleeping spell. But the attempt did not work, and the Spy persisted in her violent struggle to break free.

“Tut, tut,” the Queen huffed in annoyance. “Aphid, Thorax would you kindly...?”

Without further prompting, the drones assisted their monarch in coccooning Trixie all over. Subconsciously, it made Stephan clench his fist, but he understood it was for the best. When they were, he knelt down, wrapping his arms around the enclosed mare, hurt to see the hateful look still burning at him, at all of them.

“Meet me at Canterlot Hospital,” he said. “I’ll find Luna to help us there as well.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have somepony else to help out?” Chrysalis replied mockingly, mimicking the voice of one Princess Cadance. She stuck out her tongue. “If Candy should happen to be unavailable, you can always outsource the job to me. I’ve been told I make for a fine substitute, I have.”

Stephan forced his expression into neutrality. “Your Majesty, as much stock as Equestrians may place in the power of love, I think it’s done all it’s can for now. Trixie’s been stopped, but she isn’t herself. She doesn’t need Cupid’s arrow, what she needs is a mind doctor.”

Oddly, this made the Queen cock her head slyly, as though she knew something he did not.

“Your girlfriend’s soul, it is tied to yours by a red string, were you aware of that?” Chrysalis enquired casually. “There are forces in my world you’ve yet to even begin studying on Earth. The force of love, a force of nature, is so potent for my people because it promises so much… a dream always on the horizon, awaiting fulfilment.” She trotted away. “And Cadance… her talent is to bring people closer, to be woven together, in the ties that bind.”

“Very well, then,” Stephan deadpanned. “Until next time, Chrysalis.”

“Likewise, Major. I’ll see you another time, hm?” Chrysalis echoed flirtatiously, gesturing to her two Changeling attendants. “Thorax, go ahead and find Coxa. My wings need scrubbing. Aphid, you stay here, I fear my hooves are killing me, again...”

Gently, Stephan, hardened soldier that he was, wrapped his arms warmly around his girl, calmed to feel her breathe steady and stable. But a cough and the sound of crackling polymer reminded him he wasn’t alone. Out of the ether, Pineapple Cutter had emerged, a catch on her prosthetic flicking open, thus exposing a tranquilizer syringe.

Unbidden, she plunged it into Trixie’s shin, the thin needle effortlessly passing through wax.

“Sedation.” Cutter said simply, ignoring that Stephan’s blood was boiling. “Will keep her safe for now, Major. Doctor’s orders.”

Harwood was looking over both of them with an odd sort of expression. He nodded towards Stephan, eager to keep the calm, with a signal confirming it was his call.

“Sorry,” smiled Cutter. “Were you in the midst of getting touchy-feely? How… human of you. I mean it in the most flattering way, Major. But you didn’t have to take all the trouble you did hammering this poor girl to pieces. Not when you have me. Damaged goods from the day I was born. And look how far I’ve come. Isn’t that how you like us?”

Stephan could have strangled her. “Get Princess Luna on the line,” he ordered. “And have her meet me at the hospital, with Princess Cadance. I need them both, NOW.”

Cutter rolled her eyes. “Muy macho. Muy macho. It gets old fast.” She began to trot off, without so much as a backwards glance. “I will contact Luna. Good thing I followed you, yes. Please thank Miss Lulamoon for me. Fighting her was fun while it lasted.”

He glared at the back of the departing mare's head, deploring, not for the very first time, that her status as a 'Special Operative' technically placed her outside the chain of command.

Silently, he took Trixie’s inert, wax-encrusted body in his arms, and walked away.

“Will, will my Mommy be okay?”

For a moment, the hustle and bustle of the crowd, the delighted screams of the schoolchildren, Crusaders and all, to see her again, died away for Cheerilee. It would be painful for her to tell Ruby the truth, but more painful still to give her a sweet, sweet lie.

“I don’t know,” she said carefully. “But, let’s hope she’ll make it, and keep our spirits up, right?”

“Does that mean I’m gonna be living with you?”

Cheerilee looked over to where Miss Bjorgman waited at the station exit, keeping herself at a respectful distance, the picture of a dimming ember of sunshine in the cool, dark blue evening.

“For a while,” Cheerilee told her niece. “For a while… now, how about we go and thank Miss Bjorgman for… for all her help, Ruby?

Still, eternity passed, the child still nuzzling into Cheerilee’s chest, before they moved on.

“Miney,” Fuse asked hesitantly. “Ain’t ya worried he won’t fit in?”

“Fit in where?” his wife responded, stroking her belly.

“Well, with them...”

He traced his forehoof over the gaggle of faces out in the courtyard, clustered under the burning torches. Rarity, Fluttershy and Applejack, sitting in a little circle, yapping away about whatever such good friends yapped on about, DJ Pon-3 in her uniform vest and Zecora watching over the Lord Discord on his stretcher, unaware of some ghostly, hazy apparition hovering behind them, half-dim in the torchlight. And even, he was glad to have found out, the nancy colt Blackberry, cuffed to a dark-skinned human female, but looking like a massive weight had fallen off his shoulders.

That last pair hadn’t brought relief to Fuse’s own sense of burden, however.

While she scarcely looked his way, he knew the bandaged human woman, sitting on her makeshift seat of a storage box, was guarding him more than she was guarding Blackberry, with a flintlock on her lap, as she lay ready to leap into action the instant Short Fuse placed a hoof out of line.

Overhead, Changelings buzzed to and fro in the evening sky.

“... I don’t know,” Minus admitted. “But look at them. They’re a mixed bunch, aren’t they? Anyway,” she said, changing the subject. “Who’s to say they will be a ‘he’?”

“What, yer think it’s gonna be a filly?”

“Filly or colt, if nothing else, they will be our little Equestrian.” She leaned her head upon his broad, scarred shoulder. “And I do know you. I think you’d want a girl.”

Fuse smiled wanly, feeling a tug inside, knowing that not only wouldn’t he be seeing his wife for some time, it was probably no more than he deserved.

“Well,” he said softly. “Make sure yer find a good name for her…”

It was a weary, uneventful ride back to base.

The one upshot being that Colonel Renee’s private chopper was bigger and roomier than Mridula’s precious baby, no offense to her. Ana tried to rest against the inner metal casing, too tired to even complain, nor comment, on how uncomfortable the trip was all the way for her. The atmosphere inside, rather different from the morning’s joviality at the mess hall, which now felt like months ago, was so tense, she idly wondered if you could cut it with a knife.

Thank goodness none knew what she did, of what had befallen a mother and her child.

With two exceptions. Ana looked towards the team medic, busily tending to their barely conscious superior officer and sighed at their current state. The whole ordeal had taken a visible toll on Jaka, but somehow, Ana felt more concerned about Thomas Harwood. The man had edged close to a meltdown, with everything bearing down on him in those fateful hours.

One glimpse of her was all it had taken to send him running her direction, to embrace Ana in a fierce, crushing hug. He hadn’t talked much, but when he let her go, Harwood had quickly and expeditively told her of Jaka’s situation, and so it was they’d found themselves here, in Colonel Renee’s own newly-arrived chopper, the Sarge laying on a stretcher between them, on their way back while the bigwigs sorted out whatever was left for them to sort out.

All in all, this was a glum trip.

When dear Snow Mist, stronger than her lithe body might suggest, and fat, sturdy Wolffschanze had brought a large, wooden, occupied crate aboard, however, Ana had spotted how Harwood’s face lit with a glare of vindictive satisfaction, glee she could not share in, which brought her no comfort. She’d known Harwood long enough to see he had a lot on his plate. In spite of their mock-animosity and rivalry, Ana cared for Thomas Harwood’s well-being.

Because at the end of the day, he was her last tie to a world from before the war.

She took a deep breath, and raised herself from her uncomfortable seat to approach Harwood, edging across the metallic floor, cautious as can be. The Englishman so concentrated on monitoring Jaka’s condition, he barely acknowledged her presence.

Ana brushed against his shoulder, gazing down on their mutual friend and comrade who was fast asleep on the stretcher, no doubt recuperating from his injuries. One of Harwood’s hands was busy checking on the Sarge’s nerves, but the other, he held limp to his side. In this, Ana recognized a tell-tale sign of how deep the scars ran.

Without another hesitation, she took his hand.

Harwood shot her a look, surprised. For a moment, Ana feared he’d wrench himself free. Then some of the tension left his shoulders, and so did hers. They still had a long way to go. Sooner or later, someone would call on them about the events in Ponyville.

But Ana Bjorgman would make sure she’d be there for every step of the way.

Author's Notes:

Hi, VoxAdam again here, standing in as publisher.

... This one was a right emotional rollercoaster. Not much else I can say for now. I'm sure that it's bound to attract a good many comments and discussions, to which I'll attempt to reply as I can.