“I apologize, Princess, but a meeting will have to wait,” Cinder replied over the comm, “I’m expecting a preliminary report on the captured changeling from my Chief Information Specialist.”

Twilight sat up straighter in her seat, “you captured a changeling?” The alicorn cringed, as she realized that she had managed to completely forget about the convoy of Disciple soldiers and zebras that she’d seen organizing outside the DropShip when she and Squelch had arrived that morning. She’d been so intent on discussing the matter of the Red Reivers and the threat that they posed to the region. Then she’d gotten caught up in the revelation that Cinder was Spike and Ember’s daughter, “why wasn’t I informed about this?”

She’d asked the question on impulse, and almost immediately winced as she realized the reasoning at about the same time that the dragoness provided the answer, “forgive me, Your Majesty, but I had intended to make my report to you only once I felt confident I had enough information to make the announcement worthy of your time.”

Cinder was in command of this expedition. As such, she was expected to be able to run things without having to keep Twilight informed about every little thing. Finding a changeling agent was hardly a ‘minor detail’, of course, but if the dragoness had called up to say that they’d captured one the moment it had happened, it could be reasonably assumed that the purple alicorn would want to know details like who it had been, what they were after, and a whole host of other things. It would have been quite frustrating if all that Cinder could answer with was: “I don’t know, I haven’t found out yet.”

The cobalt dragoness would have been a piss poor senior officer if she went to Twilight over every little thing.

Of course, in this specific case, the alicorn had a fairly good idea of who the changeling in question was, and was keenly interested in making certain that they were alright, “where are they now?”

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty, I assure you that they are confined securely to the ship’s brig. We have become quite adept at restraining them over the years,” Cinder replied, having understandably misinterpreted the reason for Twilight’s interest in the matter, “I will be sure to include you in all correspondence regarding updates on the interrogation process.”

“What kind of ‘process’ are we talking about here, exactly, star admiral?” Twilight asked with some trepidation.

Now the dragoness commander paused briefly, as she considered how best to phrase things when conversing with a member of royalty, as to respect their sensibilities, “a...thorough one, Your Majesty. By their nature, changelings can be quite difficult to extract useful information from using traditional methods. However, our interrogation specialists have put together a regimen that has proven quite adept at obtaining useful intelligence from captured operatives.

“As I have said: I will be more than happy to provide you with a complete briefing on all that we learn after the interrogation is complete.”

“And what will become of the changeling then?”

“The remains will be preserved for further study by our research staff on Somni Patrium.”

“The ‘remains’?! You’re not going to kill him, are you?” Twilight blurted in surprise.

Another pause from Cinder, “...the interrogation process is...very thorough, Your Majesty.”

Twilight was already out of her seat, yelling loud enough to be heard by the terminal even as she headed for her suite’s exit, “that is unacceptable, star admiral! You will meet me at the ship’s brig, now!”

“Your Majesty, I must insis―” the rest of the dragoness’ protest was cut short by the closing of the door behind the alicorn as she galloped down the hall.

Squelch was not the only pony who was familiar with the layout of a Friendship-class DropShip. Twilight had been given tours of nearly every significant craft put into service by the Celestia League Defense Force. After all, as the Princess, she had final say on what vessels would be utilized in the Celestia League’s conflict against Tirek. She knew where the brig was located.

A very flustered looking Cinder caught up with her just as she reached the lower level of the DropShip. A pair of security ponies were close on the dragoness’ heels, “Your Majesty, I understand why you might feel uncomfortable with―”

“The CLDF does not murder its prisoners, star admiral!” Twilight snapped, charging ahead of the cobalt commander. Cinder sputtered out a few more attempts at arguing the point, but soon settled for adopting a resigned expression and following in her monarch’s wake with the rest of the hastily assembled security detail.

When the quartet rounded the corner, they found the body of the guard who had been tasked with watching over the brig. The star admiral’s eyes immediately went wide as she assumed the worst. She slapped her wrist-mounted datalink, “shipwide alert! Security breach! Code: Masquerade. Lock down everything!” within seconds, strobing red lights and blaring klaxons filled the DropShip. Behind them was the sound of metal doors slamming shut as the DropShip was partitioned off.

The dragoness looked back at one of the security ponies with her and jabbed a claw at the prone figure, “check him! Princess, stay ba―” however, by the time she looked back towards her monarch, the alicorn had already whipped around the corner, “or for―!” she and the other soldier sprinted after their wayward princess.

Twilight quickly identified the door that must have held the captive. It was still closed, and the panel indicated that it was locked as well. She did not know the code, or possess credentials that would have granted her access. She did, however, have powerful magicks at her disposal, and a potent burst from her horn indeed proved to be all that she needed to convince the door to slide open. Whether the mechanisms that were meant to facilitate that opening during normal operations would work again without being rebuilt by a maintenance team remained to be seen.

The first thing that the alicorn noticed was the sage green unicorn mare, Squelch. The owner and commander of the Steel Coursers had her back to the door, facing inward towards the center of the holding cell. The second thing that caught Twilight’s attention was the changeling strung up by chains anchored to the sides of the room. Or, rather, what was surely a changeling beneath all of that blood.

Then she saw the gun, clutched in an aura of cyan telekinesis, positioned directly below the changeling’s jaw.

Twilight lashed out with her own magic, screaming in horror at what she was beholding, “nooo!”

It had been many centuries since a unicorn had been born whose magic could rival that of an alicorn. Squelch was far from that powerful. The pistol was rested from her grasp with little difficulty, but Twilight had not been fast enough to prevent the trigger from being pulled. The shot that rang out in the small metal room set everypony’s ears to ringing. One of the bloody tools on the nearby table jumped into the air and fell to the floor, presumably having caught the recochetting round.

“Gun!” the soldier accompanying them yelled, managing to squeeze past the purple princess. He dropped to his haunches in a smooth motion, sitting on one cocked hind leg as his forehooves went for the weapon slung at his side. The carbine was out and leveled at Squelch, a hoof laying on the trigger mechanism and ready to fire.

Mental images of the unicorn mare being gunned down swirled through Twilight’s mind. She couldn’t let the mercenary commander die like that. She reacted, lashing out with her magic at the guard and smacking his weapon away before he could fire. She turned to reprimand the soldier, only then to see that Cinder too had a pistol out and aimed past her princess into the cell’s interior. The dragoness’ eyes were just widening as she saw what Twilight had done, and was about to blurt out a confused question when her own sidearm was suddenly and forcefully ripped from her grasp by Twilight’s magic.

“STAND DOWN!” the alicorn roared, the booming Royal Canterlot Voice cowing both ponies and dragoness alike. Or perhaps it was Twilight’s fiery glare and bared teeth.

What was wrong with these creatures?! Had they all gone completely and utterly mad? Everycreature seemed so intent on shooting everycreature else with hardly even the slightest hesitation. Certainly nocreature wanted to spare even a moment to talk and understand what was happening! Had five hundred years allowed them all to fall so far?

It was honestly infuriating. All three of the firearms held fast in the alicorn’s magic field bore the brunt of Twilight’s frustrations at the situation, as her magic compressed and folded the weapons like tissue paper. Their mangled remains were cast to the ground as the alicorn continued to glare at the others. None seemed willing to meet the gaze of the enraged princess. They certainly didn’t speak to voice an objection to anything that she was doing.

Nor did Twilight quite trust herself in that moment to speak. Her emotions were running high, and she knew it. Even her old foalsitter’s usual calming tactic felt like it would be of little use under these circumstances. In the moment, at least. Perhaps later.

In the meantime, the purple alicorn instead turned her focus to the changeling. What was left of him. The sight of what had been done to him turned her stomach. She’d killed changelings, she’d very likely be forced to kill many more, but this…

...this, she would not abide. Not while she still yet ruled.

Words―many words―would need to be had with her nieces―Flurry Heart and Cinder both―about this. Later. For now…

Magic leapt from Twilight’s horn, deftly vaporizing the manacles restraining the changeling captive, the limp body held aloft now by her telekinesis, as gently as she could manage. Blood still flowed from uncountable wounds, dripping persistently to the floor. A thousand years to study magic, and she’d truly never felt compelled to learn anything pertaining to the medical arts? Twilight cursed her past self ruefully for her dismissiveness on the matter.

“Fetch a doctor,” the alicorn croaked as she brought the changeling in close. He yet breathed, at least. It was a shallow thing though. Several seconds passed, and she didn’t hear her order being carried out. Her head whipped around towards the soldiers behind her, “now, star admiral!”

The cobalt dragoness jerked in surprise, apparently still massaging her wrist after it had been twisted at an odd angle when her pistol had been stolen from her. She quickly recovered and brought her datalink to her mouth, “medics to the brig,” she ordered. Then, after another moment added, “cancel lockdown; standdown Masquerade. Authorization: Cider-One-Nimbus-Donkey-Three-Rutabaga.”

Soon after, the alert siren went silent, and the red lights ceased to strobe. The sudden lack of such loud sounds made the quieter ones much more pronounced. Such as the rasping, gurgled, breaths of the changeling Twilight was holding. The alicorn swallowed as she looked at him. Her inattention had allowed this to happen. She should have cautioned the star admiral and the rest of her crew about his existence. Perhaps even asked that he come with her to their DropShip so that she could present his case and cushion the blow of the revelation regarding his true nature.

She should have, but she didn’t. She’d failed him, and he’d nearly died for it, “Slipshod, forgive me,” she didn’t deserve it though, Twilight knew.

“...you knew?”

It had not been either of the uniformed soldiers, but rather Squelch who had spoken, looking over at the alicorn with an incredulous expression, “you knew that Slipshod w―that that thing had taken his place? And you never told me?!”

“He asked me to keep his secret,” the mare replied numbly, recognizing how hollow any excuse would sound in this moment, “he thought the truth would incite panic among the Galloway’s crew.”

“Panic among the―” the sage green mare scoffed, holding her head in her hoof, cackling in a mirthless laugh, “oh, and finding out like this was just so much better~” the unicorn’s sarcastic tone caused the alicorn to wince, “Flechette is dead, by the way,” there was no false mirth or thinly veiled sarcasm now. Squelch’s tone was rife with righteous fury, “those fucks shot him!” her hoof lashed out in the direction of the dragoness and her pony escort, “while trying to capture that thing.

“But I’m glad you didn’t panic the crew,” the mare continued on in her less-than-subtle mocking tone, “they’re so much calmer now that somepony’s dead and their friend’s a monster.”

Twilight’s blood ran cold as she gaped at the unicorn. The head of the Steel Coursers’ security detail had been slain? By Cinder’s soldiers? She turned back to the dragoness, intent on demanding an explanation from the star admiral, but her words died a quiet death in her throat, unasked. On what grounds was she supposed to hold the senior officer responsible for any of this?

The Clanners had no way of knowing that Slipshod’s intentions were benign. Twilight hadn’t told them. All that they’d known was that they’d found a changeling hiding out among the crew of the mercenary DropShip. Which, to be fair, was exactly what they had been expecting to find. However, they had been operating under the belief that whatever operative existed among the crew was an active agent working for Chrysalis, and had had a hoof in arranging the trap on PEA-02-UX. They’d been anticipating a hostile changeling, as was their experience. So they had reacted accordingly, doing everything that they thought they had to in order to secure the captive before they could escape. Potentially even finding a way back to the Harmony Sphere to tell Chrysalis about how powerful and well-equipped the so-called ‘Disciples’ truly were.

Stopping the spread of such information was part of their job, and they’d not been given a single reason to believe that the situation could lead to anything other than that.

Which was Twilight’s fault, not theirs, and not Cinder’s.

“I’m...sorry.”

The words tasted like ash in her mouth. Not because the alicorn didn’t feel genuine regret for the events that she’d allowed to transpire―absolutely she did. No, it was the realization that those mere words fell so far short of even beginning to make up for how tremendously grievous of an error she’d made.

She was ‘sorry’ that her oversight had led to an innocent stallion dying? ‘Sorry’ that the secret which she had elected to keep had proven to be a deadly one? What a ridiculous notion. And yet...what more could she do, other than to sincerely apologize, and make an effort to ensure that nothing like it ever happened again?

Squelch sneered at the alicorn for several long moments. Then she snorted and shook her head, “you know what? Fuck you. Fuck you, and fuck me for helping you. I’m going back to the Galloway,” she pushed past the alicorn, which probably hadn’t been entirely necessary, but Twilight certainly didn’t remark upon it.

Cinder did, however, “hold on,” the dragoness said sternly, “you’re not going anywhere. You assaulted one of my ponies,” she pointed down the corridor, in the direction of the unconscious brig guard.

“And you killed one of mine!” Squelch snapped at the larger dragoness.

“Let her go, star admiral,” Twilight ordered stiffly, not turning around.

The dragoness opened her mouth to rebut, but snapped it closed almost immediately, rethinking her impulse to question her sovereign. Instead she offered a reluctant, “yes, Your Majesty,” and stepped aside, permitting the green unicorn mare to leave unimpeded. Cinder even managed to retain her composure when the Steel Courser ‘accidentally’ bumped into her too on her way past.

Twilight looked down at her new gown, idly noting that it had become quite thoroughly stained with changeling blood. Not that that fact truly bothered her in the moment. It did ratchet up her anxiety regarding Slipshod’s deteriorating condition though, “do your medics always take so long to respond to a call?” she asked of the star admiral.

The dragoness glanced to her side briefly and cringed. She hesitated for a brief moment before grunting and calling out, “I need one of you down here as well!”

Moments later a mare in a clan uniform, but with a Jennyva Cross emblazoned on her sleeve, came trotting up, “yes, ma’am? Where’s the pati―” the mare cut her question off abruptly once she caught sight of the interior of the cell, “Your Majesty, are you alright? Where are you injured?” the beige unicorn wasted no time and quickly began to unpack her medic bag and examine the purple alicorn, somehow appearing completely oblivious to the bleeding changeling hovering nearby.

“Wha―? Him!” Twilight blurted incredulously, thrusting Slipshod’s limp form very nearly into the medic’s chest, “treat him!”

The beige mare balked. She quickly gaped between the alicorn and the dragoness, as though seeking to confirm that she had indeed heard the command correctly. Cinder managed a nod. Still looking more than a little uncertain, the unicorn medic finally looked at the changeling and enveloped him in her own magic, “...of course, Your Majesty,” she appeared to fumbled for a few more moments with her equipment, as though contemplating exactly how to go about her task. Twilight, for the life of her, couldn’t comprehend why. Surely stopping green blood from leaking out of a body couldn’t be so drastically different a concept from stopping red blood!

She didn’t remark upon it though. Mostly to avoid distracting the medic. Slipshod was receiving at least some form of treatment. That was enough. For now.

After some time, both Slipshod and the guard that Squelch had incapacitated were evacuated to the ship’s infirmary. Twilight’s first instinct was to follow them, concerned that the resident medical staff would elect to neglect his care if given the opportunity.

Cinder either anticipated her princess’ apprehension, or at least didn’t want her clinic’s staff to be subjected to the presence of the thoroughly irate alicorn. As the beige medic loaded her changeling patient onto a litter and sought to leave, the admiral briefly stopped her, “corpsmare? It―” the dragoness cleared her throat with a brief glance in Twilight’s direction, “he will be treated. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the medic nodded. The clawed hand was removed from her shoulder and she, as well as the other responding medical personnel and their two patients, receded from the brig corridor.

Soon, all that remained were the princess, the admiral, and two very uncomfortable looking Disciple soldiers. Twilight glanced between the troopers briefly before saying, “you two are dismissed. Star admiral?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?” Cinder said with a slight bow of her head.

“Convene your senior staff in the conference room. We need to have a long, long, overdue talk.”

Approximately an hour later, Twilight walked into the conference room. She wore her regalia, but not a gown this time. Her expression was muted. Somber. Spending the better part of half an hour washing Slipshod’s blood from her coat had given the alicorn a great deal of motivation to reflect on a lot of things. Among them the state of not just the Harmony Sphere, it seemed, but the remnants of even the Celestia League that she thought she knew.

Celestia’s sake...torture? Had that even been ‘torture’? The state that Slipshod had been in, and the implication from Cinder that he was not intended to survive the ‘interrogation process’ no matter what...the matter-of-factly tone suggesting that this was simply a part of how they typically operated...

How many changelings had the Clans and the Celestia League-in-Exile...butchered like that?

Changelings were their enemy, yes, and Twilight would not shy from fighting―or even killing―them. But...that? Surely the creatures descended from the League that she’d once known―that she’d built―hadn’t fallen so far. And, yet…

...The evidence suggested that they had. Somehow, even without Chrysalis’ machinations and manipulation, what was left of the League had managed to warp, if not outright cast off, the core values that Twilight had worked so hard to instill in the hearts of every creature.

Had it taken the full five hundred years for things to get this bad, she wondered? Or had the fall happened long ago?

She would find out. The Princess of Friendship Returned would have her answers. Then she would begin to set things right.

The conference room was a little more crowded than it had been the last time she’d been in it. Aside from the the senior officers that she’d been formerly introduced to before―Star Admiral Cinder, Star Commodore Mizzen, and Star Captain Honeycrisp―there were two other new faces as well: a pink feathered griffon hen and a thestral stallion with a white-streaked cyan mane and slitted orange eyes.

The white coat and embroidered cross suggested that the thestral was the ship’s chief medical officer. However, Twilight was not immediately able to pin down the griffon’s role based on her appearance.

All five creatures in the room immediately shot up to their respective feet or hooves upon the alicorn princess’ entrance. A seat had been left open at the head of the large well-polished table. Twilight serenely walked over and took her seat. She cast her gaze over the others, taking stock of their demeanor and expressions. The star admiral certainly looked like she was anticipating a less-than-pleasant experience. As were the star commodore and the star captain. Likely the two of them had received a summary of the events leading up to the reason for Twilight calling this meeting.

The griffon looked...completely nonplussed. Either Cinder had not had the same conversation with them that she’d clearly had with the other officers, or the hen was much better at keeping her features schooled. The thestral looked more curious than anything.

“You may be seated,” said Twilight.

The Rockhoof’s captain and the commander of the BattleSteed company did so, but the other three remained standing. Cinder cleared her throat and gestured at the other two, “Your Majesty, permit me to introduce Doctor Nightingale,” the thestral stallion nodded, “he’s actually the Rockhoof’s doctor, but I had him shuttled down to better coordinate with the planet-side medical staff after the attack yesterday.

“And this is Gesche, my Chief Information Specialist.”

“Head torturer, you mean,” Twilight was unable to restrain herself from muttering as she turned a cutting gaze towards the griffon. The other officers in the room cringed and exchanged uncomfortable glances with one another. The pink-feathered hen, on the other hoof, cracked a small smile and simply nodded her acceptance of the title. The alicorn scowled, “you and I have much to discuss,” the princess vowed before turning towards the thestral.

“But, first: how is Slipshod doing? The changeling. Will he live?”

Oddly enough, this was the point where the griffon seemed to take some measure of offense, offering a slight frown. She remained silent though, permitting the doctor to respond unimpeded to the question that he’d been asked. The stallion nodded, “its injuries looked far more serious than they were,” he insisted, “some moderate blood loss―which we’re treating with colloids. It’s in a lot of pain more than anything,” he said with a dismissive shrug.

“For which you are giving him,” she stressed the pronoun pointedly, “pain medication, of course?”

At that the physician opened his mouth and faltered, “uhhh…” he cleared his throat and awkwardly gestured at a nearby com terminal, “...if Her Majesty will permit me to make a quick call down to the infirmary?”

Twilight scowled balefully at the stallion, but flicked her wing out towards the com panel. The doctor nodded and scurried over to relay her instructions to his staff. Now the alicorn turned to the griffon, who still didn’t look the least bit intimidated by the alicorn’s hostile temperament. If anything, that just made Twilight all the more annoyed, “I take it that you supervise the creatures that did this to him?”

The griffon smiled pleasantly. Or, rather, the curve of their lips beyond their beak was meant to affect a ‘pleasant’ smile. However, something about the whole expression was...off. She shook her head, “not exactly, Your Majesty. I have no staff to supervise. All interrogations are solely my responsibility.”

“So you did that to him?” the purple mare’s lips pulled back in a sneer. Yet, it faltered somewhat as she continued to glare at the hen. She just looked so...unrepentant. Every other being in this room appeared to at least acknowledge that―whether they felt they’d acted inappropriately―their princess was not at all pleased with their actions. This griffon...didn’t.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Why?”

“A thorough examination of the subject’s physiology, demographics, and tolerances, needed to be compiled so that an effective interrogation regimen could be designed which was appropriate to the individual,” the pink hen explained, sounding far too detached from the topic for Twilight’s liking, “contrary to what many believe, changelings, on an individual level, are as diverse as any other species. As a result, different changelings respond to different stimuli. Before any productive questioning could begin, I needed to learn as much as I could about the subject’s demeanor, as well as their physical limits.

“I have a preliminary psychological profile ready for your review, as well as a suggested provisional torture schedule, if you would like to see them?”

“Absolutely not!” Twilight gasped, now fully taken aback by the griffon’s response.

“Of course, Your Majesty. I apologize for offering you anything less than my best work. I will have the final report completed by the end of the day and sent along.”

“Wh―? No!” the alicorn sputtered, aghast at the thought of reading a detailed account of what had been inflicted upon Slipshod. She was insulted that the implication had even been made that she’d want to, “in fact, destroy it,” Twilight instructed. That at least seemed to catch the griffon of guard.

Gesche blinked, hesitantly looking between the princess and the physician, “destroy the...changeling, Your Majesty?”

“The report!” How did that response make the griffon look even more confused?!

Twilight massaged her forehead with her hooves, grumbling, before raising her head back up and looking at all of the creatures gathered around the table, “I can’t even pretend to know how practices like that became acceptable,” she stated sternly, “and, frankly, I’m not sure that I want to know.

“But they stop. Here and now. The Celestia League does not torture. We do not abuse our prisoners. We adhere to the core principles of Friendship and Harmony, even where our enemies are concerned,” even as she said those words, Twilight suppressed a bitter grimace as she recalled her own previous excessiveness. She’d killed the changeling pilots in their disabled ‘Steeds, after they had ceased to be an immediate threat to her or anypony else. The alicorn might have liked to claim being caught up in the heat of battle, but that was still not a real excuse.

She wasn’t perfect, of course. She knew that. She had, did, and would continue, to make mistakes. As long as she endeavored to learn from them and avoid making the same mistakes in the future, that was what really mattered. Twilight would try her best to live up to the ideals that she had championed for so long, and she would push the remnants of the League to do so as well.

“Your Majesty,” Cinder began to protest, “Chrysalis and her changelings have done much worse to―”

“Are you really about to suggest that I need to behave more like Chrysalis?” Twilight cut in pointedly, which had the intended effect of drawing the dragoness up short, looking appropriately cowed by the insinuation.

“...no, of course not, princess.”

“Good. Which brings me to my next point: I find myself very concerned with the mentality I’ve witnessed, both here in this room, and from other members of the crew. You claim to be a part of the ‘Celestia League-in-Exile’, and yet...I don’t see how that could be the case,” she said with a frown, “maybe it’s the constant fighting, maybe something more. I don’t know.

“To help me find out, I am going to do something that I haven’t done in a very long time: I’m going to host Friendship classes,” her smile was bittersweet. While it should have been pleasantly nostalgic to be undertaking one of her first serious initiatives again, the circumstances which had motivated her to do so were certainly far more dire than the original ones, “these classes will not be compulsory, but I would like the crew to be made aware that I highly encourage attendance.

“It will take us some time to reach League-in-Exile space, I assume?” she saw Cinder’s nod of agreement, “so I intend to make the best use of it by evaluating, for myself, where we are at now as a society.”

The dragoness admiral nodded, “very well, Your Majesty,” she gestured to the feathered stallion nearby, “the star commodore and I will make arrangements to notify the crew, find an appropriate venue, and reorganize duty rosters to ensure as many creatures as possible may attend.”

“Good. In the meantime: I want periodic updates on the conditions of the local zebras currently being treated by the Steel Coursers―as well as the latest timetable for their transfer to planetary care facilities and a list of recommendations on what can be done to expedite said transfer. I want to see a detailed plan of action regarding the transport and and quartering of the Steel Coursers―they will be made aware of my Friendship lectures as well, if you please,” Twilight turned to Doctor Nightingale, who was only now returning to his earlier seat after having relayed the new medical orders to the infirmary, “you will send me daily progress notes on Slipshod’s condition,” she looked back to Cinder, “Slipshod will also be given access to a personal comm device which he can use to contact me directly,” the alicorn paused long enough to received acknowledgement of her directives from both individuals.

“Lastly,” the purple princess said with a tired sounding sigh, “I will need access to...well, everything. Histories, activity reports, action reviews―I have five hundred years of catching up to do, and not nearly enough time to get caught up.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” the dragoness said, “your credentials should be fully added to our network within the hour.”

“Thank you, star admiral. Now, it sounds like all of us have a lot to do. So let’s get to it. Dismissed,” then a thought occurred to the alicorn, “oh, star admiral?” the dragoness and every other creature in the room paused mid-rise, looking expectantly between the two, “I assume no other changelings were found while screening the Steel Coursers?”

“No, Your Majesty. Just the one.”

“And did you manage to screen everypony?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. All eighty-five members of the Steel Coursers were subjected to the screening. We accounted for all of the names on the ship’s manifest we received.”

“...Understood,” the alicorn frowned slightly as she waved for the assembled creatures to resume their departures. She and Slipshod had been fairly confident that another member of the crew had also been a changeling, but it appeared that they must have been mistaken. Perhaps news of her revival and location aboard the Galloway truly had been leaked through some less malicious fashion.

At least that was one less concern to be worried about...

Mimesis watched the last of the Disciple’s accursed zebra alchemists file back into the APC. A hoofful of their soldiers were being left behind to ‘supervise’ things, and to aid the local government with reintegration of the civilians still in the care of the pony mercenaries. However, those few remaining Disciple troops were keeping a respectful distance from the Galloway and its crew. Likely due in great part to the recently developed hostilities between the two groups.

Killing somepony did have the tendency to produce a lot of animosity among the friends of the deceased, he had noticed. In an effort to reduce the likelihood of another confrontation, the officer in charge of the local Disciple forces had ordered the soldiers to form a loose perimeter around the Galloway, but to also keep their distance from the mercenaries themselves unless absolutely necessary.

Which meant that while there were still technically Disciples in the area, none of them were close enough to notice that there was, in fact, one additional Steel Courser walking around than there should have been, according to the list of personnel that had been forwarded to them anyway.

It had been something of a lucky break for him that the zebra BattleSteed pilot, Xanadu, had asked to enlist with the company. Otherwise, he might have actually run into some issues during the screening of the crew. As it was, the extra pilot had allowed for the personnel files to identify the same number of on-site mercenaries as had been being continuously reported to the Disciple WarShip since their departure from the Harmony Sphere.

That wasn’t to say that staying out of their grasp had been a simple matter. Far from it, in fact. Mimesis was completely exhausted. He doubted that any changeling who ever lived in the last few hundred years had ever found themselves having to shift their form as many times as he had had to during the last hour. If he’d even bothered to try and tally the number of transformations that he’d been forced to make, he was certain that he’d have lost count. There’d definitely been more than a hundred.

Remaining a single pony in one place for too long had simply been too much of a risk. The chances that he’d have been truly noticed and recognized would have grown with every second, and not just with the Steel Coursers either. Disciple soldiers had been everywhere during the screening, trying their best to keep track of every mercenary and civilian as they were going about their duties. Too many of the zebras were in critical condition, and simply could not be left alone for the entirety of the time it would have taken to segregate and isolate every creature for a proper screening.

A lot of zebras would have died if they’d done that. Whoever was in charge apparently didn’t want to have to explain to the planetary government why so many of their citizens had been sacrificed like that, and so had opted for a more haphazard and less orderly solution. Much to Mimesis’ gratitude.

Which wasn’t to say that the Disciples had been sloppy, of course. They’d meticulously tracked who needed to be screened, where they were, and where they went afterwards. There wasn’t a pony on their list who didn’t have at least one set of eyes on them at all times.

However, Mimesis―or rather, the multitude of ponies that he’d become during that time―hadn’t been on their list. Which meant that the Disciples hadn’t noticed that he’d been ‘missing’. Nopony had. Not really. Oh, a lot of the Galloway’s crew had certainly been looking for him―or, rather, the pony that they thought he was―but with the general chaos caused by the hundreds of injured zebras lying around, nopony was really all that surprised that they couldn’t find him.

After all, he was a very busy pony right now...

The changeling smiled as a wave of transformative magic washed over him, and he finally reverted to the form that he’d been wearing for a great many years. He rounded the next corner, emerging back into a crowd of ponies and patients. Almost immediately, a half dozen Steel Coursers looked in his direction and started waving him over for assistance and advice on the patients that they’d been charged to monitor.

“Doc! There you are; do you have a minute?”

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