Twilight stared out the window at the planet hanging in space before her. Somni Patrium. The refuge of the Celestia League-in-Exile. She was informed that it also served as the nominal capital world for Clan Timberwolf, which was the first of the Dragon Clans to be formed, and the clan to which Star Admiral Cinder was a member of, which Dragon Lord Ember ruled directly. The alicorn had been informed that the name had been chosen in the hope of providing a source of inspiration for the members of both the Clan, and the League-in-Exile as a whole.

“Knock a timberwolf down, and they’ll put themselves back together,” the sapphire dragoness had said, “knock the Celestia League down, and we’ll do the same.”

Their trip to the world had accelerated greatly the moment they left the Periphery. As it turned out, the Clans had what amounted to a ‘chain’ of Jump Ships holding station in star systems extending far out into otherwise ‘unmapped’ space. These Jump Ships allowed for the rapid transport of both personnel and information between the Harmony Sphere and the distant worlds held by the Dragon Clans. By moving from one Jump Ship to another in succession, both DropShips had been able to make the thousand-plus lightyear journey in just a matter of days. The Rockhoof itself would be taking the ‘long way’ by making their own week-apart jumps back.

In all, a little more than a month had passed since leaving the Harmony Sphere.

Twilight liked to think that she’d made the most of that time. She’d hosted more Friendship seminars, though she noted that the size of the crowds at the others had been significantly smaller than the first one. The demeanor had been different as well. The alicorn got the impression that they were just there to ‘bask in her presence’, and weren’t really invested in the substance of her lectures. It was disheartening, but she wasn’t inclined to give up on the effort. As long as creatures attended, she would try and convince them of the merits of Friendship, and the values of the real Elements of Harmony.

How the Clans had come by those warped notions, Twilight wasn’t sure. She anticipated finding answers though, and soon. Princess-Regent Flurry Heart and Dragon Lord Ember―along with her consort―were awaiting her down on the planet. Twilight was led to understand that a grand reception had been organized to welcome her back. A ceremony as well would be hosted in the near future to officially end Flurry Heart’s regency and crown Twilight as the Princess of the Celestia League-in-Exile.

A lot of pomp, a lot of circumstance, and a lot of pageantry awaited the purple alicorn down there. But, once all of the political I’s had been dotted and the T’s crossed, they’d be able to get down to the real business of creating a plan to defeat Chrysalis.

That was just the short-term though. Twilight didn’t have the luxury of allowing her thoughts on the future to end there though. She had to take a longer view of things. Unfortunately, that was where her optimism began to sour. Beating Chrysalis was just the first step on a much longer journey of rebuilding the Celestia League. A colossal task under any circumstances, to be sure, but one that the alicorn feared had been made all the more difficult by these warped ‘Elements’ that she’d encountered.

Devotion to your Clan.

Sacrifice for the Cause.

Respect for fellow Trueborns.

Joy in domination.

True fealty to your Khan.

Power over your foes.

Twisted, malignant, interpretations of the Elements that she and her friends had known in their youth. Twilight shuddered to think of what could have happened to bring them about. Perhaps the same factors which had brought about the other changes that had been brought to her attention by Slipshod. The eugenics and breeding programs. The social stratification. The rampant militaristic attitudes of the citizenry.

This society seemed to be the ‘Celestia League’ in name only. It certainly didn’t share any of her old realm’s values or ideals. If she didn’t know any better, Twilight might have thought that Flurry Heart had been replaced by a changeling too.

The door behind her opened, drawing the alicorn’s attention. Star Admiral Cinder stepped inside, snapping to attention and issuing a sharp bow of her head, “Your Majesty, we will be landing in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, star admiral,” the purple mare said, her lips stretching into a sad smile. She and her niece hadn’t formed nearly the bond that she’d hoped they’d have by now. The dragoness was very rigid in her demeanor and beliefs, which Twilight supposed was to be expected considering the upbringing and education she’d apparently had. While Cinder respected Twilight as her rightful sovereign, and thus would never consider disobeying her commands, that wasn’t the same thing as agreeing with them.

Slipshod was the biggest source of contention between them by far, but he was far from the only thing that was keeping them at emotional odds with each other. Twilight’s opinion on a lot of the tactics being used by the Clans were not well-received. On the other hoof, Cinder was also too ‘proper’ to actually engage the princess in any actual debate on the matter; instead simply acknowledging the criticisms and adopting any requested changes as best she could.

If Twilight was being honest, she’d have appreciated at least a little push-back from the star admiral. The alicorn fully acknowledged that she’d been ‘out of the loop’ for quite a few centuries. The dragoness had a much firmer grasp of the current realities of the galaxy at large. Twilight wanted to be able to rely on Cinder’s experience and critiques of the alicorn’s orders so that she could tell if she might be changing too much too soon. While the way that the Clans and the Celestia League-in-Exile did things did need to be changed in her opinion, Twilight was well aware that such radical changes needed to be eased into over time.

Bringing Friendship and Harmony to the creatures of Equus―even other ponies―wasn’t exactly something that had happened overnight the first time around, after all.

However, the purple princess didn’t receive any overt pushback. Instead, Cinder merely gave an acknowledgement and then began to execute her commands. The dragoness was, perhaps, too respectful of the chain of command, in Twilight’s opinion.

At least she wouldn’t have to worry about that sort of blanket obedience from Flurry Heart and Ember. In fact, Twilight was a little nervous that she would receive the opposite. They were the ones who had been leading the resistance against Chrysalis since Twilight’s disappearance. What if they felt like they were the best qualified to continue leading it, and relegated her to a figurehead position? Would she really be in a position to insist that they were wrong?

Would she end up inadvertently fracturing the League-in-Exile if she contradicted Flurry Heart? The crew of the Rockhoof, and Cinder in particular, had certainly accepted Twilight as their reigning princess quickly enough, but was the crew of the single WarShip really a viable sample size when trying to judge the response of a whole multi-system star nation? It wasn’t like she had personally interviewed every member of the crew on the DropShip either. For all she knew, the common enlisted creatures would rather have Flurry Heart leading them than this new alicorn who was obviously less than a fan of the values that they’d grown up with.

If ‘growing up’ was even a good term for what most of these creatures went through. While she was relieved to learn that not every creature was a genetically modified and vat-grown super-soldier, the fact remained that a lot of them were. Especially those in positions of power and authority. If Twilight had thought it was a fluke of familial genetics that Star Captain Honeycrisp looked so much like her many-times-great grandsire, she’d have been wrong. Lingering remnants of Big Mac’s genetic material had been specifically selected for when the mare had been―for lack of a more apt term―produced.

Cinder was completely ‘natural’ though. Dragons didn’t seem to reproduce often enough to justify a lot of manipulation. Likely the implication that any dragon suitably tough enough to attain a position of leadership in a Clan wasn’t also capable of producing equally powerful offspring without technological help was also a factor as well. Their egos simply wouldn’t allow for the perceived insult.

Intellectually, Twilight understood the argument for pursuing artificially engineering soldiers and ‘Steed pilots. It didn’t take a mathematical genius to be able to compare the difference in numbers between the Clans and the Harmony Sphere. The Clans needed objectively tougher fighters than anything the mercenaries and professional armies of the Sphere had. On something approaching a four or five-to-one ratio. She understood that.

Which wasn’t the same thing as liking it.

However, more frustrating than the need for eugenics was the emergence of the social stigmas that surrounded it. Twilight considered those far more of an issue in the long term. It was easy enough to simply decide not to vat-grow any more super-soldiers once the war was over and the Celestia League was restored. What would not be as simple a thing to ‘turn off’ would be the cultural perception among the existing engineered population that they were objectively superior to natural ‘freeborn’ citizens; as well as the idolization of Trueborn creatures by said ‘freeborns’. It would be like dealing with the aristocracy all over again, only worse.

Twilight let out a sigh as that thought reminded her that, in addition to the eugenic aspect, she would also have a much more ingrained caste-based stratification to deal with. Again, while the alicorn did acknowledge that fighting creatures were of more significance to their efforts with a war on the horizon, the notion that the ‘warrior caste’ was deserving of subservience from the other castes would have no place in society once the fighting was over. She was hesitant to think of how all of the soldiers and BattleSteed pilots were going to react when peace was restored and the focus started to shift away from them to the ‘less prestigious’ technician and laborer castes that would become far more essential to the rebuilding of the Harmony Sphere.

It was exactly the sort of social upheaval that historically led to civil wars.

The last thing that Twilight wanted in the galaxy was to defeat Chrysalis, only to plunge the Harmony Sphere into even more fighting as a result of trying to revert Clan society to what the League had been like five hundred years ago.

If that happened...would she even be able to bring herself to fight in such a conflict? Would she even have a choice?

...problems for Future Twilight, the alicorn reluctantly decided. Present Twilight had plenty of things to deal with today, rather than worrying about what would happen in the aftermath of a war that they hadn’t even started fighting for real yet.

“Star admiral?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I assume that quarters have been arranged for me in the capital?” the dragoness nodded, “see to it that Slipshod is taken there once we’ve landed. After the reception, I would like Ember, Spike and Flurry Heart to meet him, and hear what he has to say about Chrysalis and her forces.”

Cinder pursed her lips, hesitating for a moment, “you would like the leadership of the League-in-Exile, to all be present―alone―with a changeling, Your Majesty?”

A sad smile tugged at the alicorn’s lips, “I want them to hear what we’ll all be up against from an intelligence source, star admiral.”

The dragoness didn’t look to be all that convinced. However, she was also not the sort to disobey a command from the pony she regarded as her rightful princess, “I will pass on your message, Your Majesty.”

Her arrival was something of a blur. With weeks to prepare for her arrival instead of less than an hour, a ‘proper’ reception and ceremony was able to be arranged to greet Twilight as she stepped off of the DropShip. Flowing violet banners, cheering crowds, confetti, blaring trumpets, the whole nine yards of royal receptions unlike any that she’d seen...well, ever. Even her coronation hadn’t been so extravagant.

There was a bit more of a military component to it than she might have liked. Rows of guards adorned in ceremonial armor were to be expected, of course, and had long been a traditional element of such processions. Those weren’t what prompted a mental grimace from the purple alicorn. No, what made her uncomfortable were the rows of assault-weight BattleSteeds arranged beyond those ceremonial guards, and the formations of aerofighters that zipped across the sky overhead.

These creatures had been preparing their whole lives―preparing for generations―for an inevitable war. Now their rightful princess was returned, and Twilight sensed that the crowd was of a mind that the war they’d been so eagerly awaiting could finally begin in earnest. She felt like some sort of harbinger, more than a princess.

Those feelings, unfortunately, served to make what should have been a profoundly joyous reunion with her friends and family much more bittersweet than she’d have liked.

The walk wasn’t that long. The Royal Palace had a dedicated landing pad. Less than a hundred yards separated the DropShip’s ramp from the castle entrance, and the trio of figures waiting for her there. Twilight’s eyes instantly misted up as she beheld her friends. Flurry Heart and Ember stood steadfast, side by side, centered in the doorway. Spike’s purple form was slightly offset as he stood next to his wife.

His smile was the most genuine, the purple alicorn noticed, faltering slightly as she continued to approach the trio. They’d known each other for nearly their entire lives. He was her oldest and dearest friend―a sibling even, as far as she was concerned―and had stood by her side through even her most trying times. The Celestia League was, honestly, as much his creation as it was hers, seeing as he’d served as her principal ambassador in her Royal Court and helped to maintain the close relations between Equus and the rest of its member worlds.

Ember’s expression was ‘appropriately’ pleasant for the occasion. However, it was clear that the Dragon Lord was carrying quite a lot of stress on her shoulders. Understandable if what Cinder had explained about the staff and the resistance to her authority by the other clans was even half accurate. The cyan dragoness was likely dealing with a great many issues involving her kind as she tried to hold them together. Twilight just hoped that there was any way that she could help.

Flurry Heart...hers was a ‘smile’ in name only. Even from as far away as she was, Twilight could see that it was nothing more than a facade that the pink alicorn knew she was ‘expected’ to wear for the reception. It would peel off like a mask the first moment she got. Unlike Ember, Twilight had no idea why Flurry Heart would be anything but relieved and overjoyed to find that her aunt was safe and sound. The younger alicorn was certainly likely to be under a great deal of stress too, of course, the purple mare knew, but there was a...hostility hovering just behind her baby blue eyes that tied Twilight’s stomach in a knot just looking at her.

As Twilight climbed the small staircase leading to the dais where the three other stood, Flurry Heart announced to the gathered cheering crowds in a booming Royal Canterlot Voice, “PRESENTING HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCESS TWILIGHT SPARKLE!”

Somehow the roar of the crowds managed to ratchet up an octave. All three creatures proceeded to bow to Twilight―though Flurry Hearts was noticeably stiffer from the purple mare’s close vantage point. The purple alicorn turned and waved to the throngs of creatures on the landing pad. She wasn’t expected to do much more at this precise moment, she knew. A proper ceremony for the official transfer of authority from Princess-Regent Flurry Heart to herself was scheduled to take place a few days from now. Until then she wasn’t technically ‘in charge’ and these were not her subjects.

Honestly, she was perfectly fine with that. She intended to make full use of these next few days to get herself caught up on the state of the League-in-Exile and review what preparations had been made for the push to defeat Chrysalis.

Perhaps she could also learn what was bothering her niece.

In short order, all three of the bowing creatures straightened up, and the newly formed quartet of rulers entered the palace proper. Only once they were out of sight of the crowd did Twilight allow herself to finally relax her composure and promptly throw her hooves around Spike in a constrictive embrace, “I’m so glad you’re okay!” she didn’t care that her cheeks had become damp from the happy tears that she was shedding. Her oldest and dearest friend was safe.

The purple dragon was caught off guard for only a brief moment by the hug, but quickly returned it with equal vigor, “welcome back, Twilight,” he said with a hardy chuckle, “I’m fine. It wasn’t the first time I’ve had to tangle with a villain,” the purple dragon added with a wry smirk, “and Chrysalis does a terrible impression of you.”

Twilight relaxed her hold on the dragon, pulling back a bit so that she could look him in the eye, her expression creased with concern, “how did nopony notice I wasn’t, well, me long enough for Chrysalis to get away with it?”

Spike sighed, shaking his head with a rueful expression, “you―she―didn’t return to Equus immediately after the meeting with Selena,” he informed her, “said she had a lot to take care of. Which, to be fair, she―you―did,” he rolled his eyes, “Cozy Glow was working overtime and little rebellions were popping up all over the place. It was completely believable that you needed to stay out there and meet with them―I was doing the same thing!

“The whole of the Ministry of Friendship was working overtime trying to keep systems from jumping ship. It was years before ‘you’ came back to Canterlot. By then, Chrysalis had replaced most of the senior staff and her advisors with changelings.

“I knew ‘something’ was off right away, but it didn’t click for me that you’d been replaced by Chrysalis until it was basically too late to stop her,” he flashed her an apologetic look, implying that he saw some part of their inability to stop the changeling queen as being his fault, “it was all I could do to smuggle out as many of our forces as I did. Not nearly as many as I’d have liked,” he added ruefully, “but I didn’t want to risk taking anypony with us that Chrysalis might have already replaced.”

The dragon paused, glancing briefly at Flurry Heart―who was pretending that their conversation wasn’t even happening, “the other princesses agreed to stay behind and keep Chrysalis distracted while I took Flurry Heart and nearly half the fleet on a ‘Friendship Tour’ of the galaxy.

“I can only imagine how pissed off Chrysalis was when she learned that we’d left the Harmony Sphere entirely.”

“Oh, Spike…” Twilight caught the dragon up in another tight hug, “I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault Twilight,” he assured her, patting her back with a clawed hand. Both looked over upon hearing a rather impolite sound that had been poorly contained by the pink alicorn standing nearby, who still wasn’t looking in their direction.

Twilight opened her mouth to say something to her, but then closed it, eyeing the palace guards standing unobtrusively in the corners of the room. She got the feeling that, whatever conversation the two of them would eventually have, would be best reserved for a more private setting. The Royal Guard were certainly properly discrete, but Flurry Heart was entitled to the courtesy of not having anypony overhear what she apparently had to say about Twilight.

Instead, the purple alicorn turned her attention to the Dragon Lord, “and it’s good to see you too, Ember,” no hugs were exchanged between them, but that wasn’t due to any lack of fondness that the pair of rulers shared for each other. Ember simply wasn’t the ‘hugging’ type. Twilight smirked and eyed the pair of dragons, “though I am a little upset that I missed out on the wedding…”

The Dragon Lord and her consort exchanged mildly embarrassed looks before the cyan dragoness cleared her throat and responded, “yeah, well, if we’d known that you were going to be replaced by a bug monster, I suppose we could have bumped the date up a bit.”

“And exactly how long after the ceremony did Cinder come along?” Twilight eyed the pair mischievously.

Spike cleared his throat this time as Ember blushed, “there...might have been some overlap.”

“Scandalous! I love it!” Twilight grinned, relishing the moment of frivolity with her friends for all that she could. In the back of her mind she knew that this event would soon be overshadowed by the realities of the serious threat they faced for the fate of the Harmony Sphere. But, right now, in this moment, she got to share just the tiniest iota of joy with her closest friends.

She needed that.

“Well, I just want you to know that I think the two of you made pretty good parents,” the purple alicorn informed them, “Cinder―excuse me―Star Admiral Cinder, seems like a skilled leader and I look forward to working with her more in the future.”

“We’re certainly proud of her,” Spike nodded, grinning at his mate, who merely rolled her eyes and smirked. Her consort chuckled.

Now Twilight was forced to look in the direction of the other alicorn, and she felt her mirth begin to dwindle. She’d wanted their reunion to be just as joyous as hers and Spike’s had been. Twilight liked to think that she and her niece had had a very close relationship growing up. They’d been more like siblings in their later centuries. After all, when you lived for thousands of years, a difference in age of a couple decades hardly even registered.

For the briefest of moments, the purple alicorn’s analytical mind pondered whether her time spent in suspended animation ‘counted’, and if that meant that Flurry Heart was, in fact, now her elder by the better part of five centuries?

Of course, this was not the proper time for philosophical musings. Now was the time for consolation for a mare whose mother was the captive of one of the greatest threats that ponykind had ever know, “Flurry Heart,” Twilight began hesitantly, not certain yet how the pink alicorn was going to react given her abrasive demeanor thus far, “I am so sorry about what happened to Cadence. We’ll get her back, safe and sound, I promise.”

The other alicorn finally looked in Twilight’s direction, whipping her head towards the purple mare. The hard expression and icy glare actually caused Twilight to take a half step back from the princess-regent. That look hurt the purple alicorn more than she felt any possible collection of words could have. It was just so completely full of loathing and hostility. Twilight wasn’t confident that, even knowing everything that Chrysalis had been responsible for these last five hundred years, that she could have mustered up such intense feelings of negativity towards the changeling queen if they ever came face-to-face.

“Flur―I…” the purple alicorn stuttered briefly before finally opting for silence. The pair of dragons exchanged grimaces behind her.

Yes, it seemed that the two of them did indeed need to have a long―private―conversation. Twilight suspected that there were going to be more than a few unkind words said.

Twilight stepped back from the other alicorn and cleared her throat, casting the three of them a more general look, “I don’t know how much you’ve been told yet, but there was a changeling on the mercenary DropShip that found me,” judging from the lack of utter surprise on all of their faces, it was clear that this wasn’t news to them, “his name is Slipshod, and he wants to help us take down Chrysalis,” there were skeptical looks exchanged between Ember and Flurry Heart. However, Spike looked a bit more receptive to the concept, and Twilight focused her gaze on him, “I wouldn’t exactly say he’s anything like Thorax, but I do believe him.

“I’d like you to hear what he has to say about Chrysalis, as well as any suggestions that he might have about the invasion plans you have.”

Flurry Heart finally spoke up, “you want to give a changeling access to our invasion plans?” she scoffed, “your brain must still be in suspended animation if you think for a moment that I’m letting that happen. That changeling isn’t going anywhere but straight to an interrogation cell.”

“No,” Twilight snapped almost on reflex, drawing surprised looks from all three of the others, “you’re not torturing him,” she continued on in a very carefully controlled tone, mindful of the guards standing at the periphery of the room, “if you want to learn what he knows, you’re going to have to talk with him. Properly.”

She flashed a disappointed look in Spike’s direction as she continued to address all three of them, “this torturing business? It stops. Now. That’s not what the Celestia League was about―it’s not what we’re about,” she stressed, “at least, I didn’t think so.”

Spike at least had the decency to look ashamed. The Dragon Lord as well seemed to be a little uncomfortable regarding the subject, though she did still defend the position, “we’ve had to compromise on a few things over the years to have a chance at winning this thing, Twilight,” she told the purple alicorn, “we’re not proud of what we’ve had to do, but we believe that it’s more important that we defeat Chrysalis.

“We can get things back to the way they ‘should’ be once she’s out of the picture,” Ember assured the purple mare.

“It’s not like it’s something we started doing overnight, Twilight,” Spike chimed in, looking uneasily at the alicorn. He clearly regretted a great many of the decisions that he’d made over the centuries; but the jury was still out with Twilight whether that forgave anything outright, “in the beginning, we were doing things the ‘League Way’. No torture. No...disposals,” he winced as he groped for the way that he’d wanted to phrase what Twilight still could only think of as outright murder. The purple dragon did sound like he recognized the lack of any practical distinction though.

Again, the alicorn wasn’t positive that really mattered.

“The thing was,” Spike went on, “that it was kind of a futile effort with changeling prisoners. Reformed or unreformed, changelings need love to survive. Love for changelings was in pretty short supply after we left the Harmony Sphere and saw what they were doing to the creatures still in it. I don’t think a single captive ever made it to a year in custody before they just...starved to death.

“It also meant that merely questioning them wasn’t any good. There wasn’t really anything that we could offer them in exchange for cooperating. They knew they were dying, and they knew that we couldn’t let them go back to the Sphere. So they just sort of...starved to death in silence.”

Spike closed his eyes, as though reliving the memories of watching countless changeling prisoners whither and waste away until finally succumbing to death, knowing that there was nothing that he could do to help them that wouldn’t endanger the last remaining fragment of hope left to defeat Chrysalis. Twilight tried to imagine such a thing herself, and very quickly realized that she wouldn’t have been able to endure it. She knew that she’d have caved in with their first prisoner, releasing them rather than sentencing them to die of starvation.

At least, the Twilight from five hundred years ago would have done that. The Twilight forged by watching Equus fall. The Twilight who’d been forced to flee the Sphere with a smattering of forces in the fleeting hope of being able to return one day and save everycreature. The Twilight who’d been through everything that Spike had…

...The alicorn suspected that fire-forged Twilight might have made...other choices.

She didn’t like that thought.

“The vast majority never even made it back here,” the dragon continued soberly, “it takes months to get personnel to and from most of the deeper parts of the Harmony Sphere. Only a few changelings ever made it back here alive. Barely. They never lasted long.

“Catching them alive, just to have them slowly die in custody, was hardly productive,” he let out a disdainful snort, “it was debatably ‘kinder’ to put out orders for changelings to be executed instead of captured,” he said ruefully, shooting a look at the properly shocked alicorn. Twilight wanted to admonish the notion, but a deep, dark, part of her recognized the logic in such a decision. Forcing a changeling to endure starvation was hardly a very noble thing to do, wasn’t it?

“It didn’t start out as torture,” Spike continued, “just...inconveniences. Leaving the lights on or playing loud flugelhorn music constantly. Making their cells colder. Things to irritate them, that we’d stop if they cooperated.

“But that didn’t work very well, really. It was pretty obvious that all we were doing was offering to let them die in agony slightly more comfortably. Our interrogators didn’t make a lot of headway like that. Actually, we started running into some other problems.”

“What kind of ‘problems’?” Twilight asked.

It was Ember who answered, “the prisoners began earning the trust of their jailors,” she said bitterly, noting the shocked look on the purple mare’s face and nodding, “changelings are empaths. They started reading the emotional states of the creatures interrogating them and gaining their sympathy.

“There was a breakout. A changeling nearly got a message back to Chrysalis.”

“It was just too close,” Spike said, shaking his head, “we couldn’t risk something like that happening again. From that day on, interrogations were carried out exclusively by...well, psychopaths,” the dragon flashed Twilight a wan smile.

“Excuse me, did you say psychopaths are in charge of questioning our prisoners?! Creatures genuinely incapable of compassion? You’re not treating them, you’re employing them?”

The revelation was truly shocking to the alicorn princess, for several reasons. First and foremost was the idea that creatures who were physically incapable of experiencing and nurturing meaningful friendships weren’t receiving the treatment for their condition that was readily available, and had been for millenia. It used to be that a simple zap with a Reform Spell was all that was needed to ensure that any citizen could be a friendly and productive member of society.

Yet, to find out too that such creatures were having their conditions exploited like this…

Twilight instantly understood why the decision had been made. A psychopath couldn’t be emotionally manipulated. More than that, they’d have been the next best thing to impossible to read for a changeling. They also wouldn’t be able to be fed off of. They represented both the best, and the worst type of creature to use to interrogate a changeling. Impervious to their manipulations, while also a metaphorical ‘empty bowl’ that a changeling would probably not even be able to forcefully draw emotions out of for sustenance.

“They were immune to the changelings,” Spike said, both echoing and confirming Twilight’s internal musings. Though he became even more uncomfortable as he added, “...and they didn’t hesitate to...erm, ‘go the distance’ during interrogations.”

The purple alicorn’s expression instantly hardened once more, recalling the state that she’d found Slipshod in. She wasn’t about to let Spike get away with being evasive about it this time though, “vivisect the prisoners, you mean,” she corrected him, coolly. The dragon winced, looking away in shame.

“How could you? How could any of you?” Twilight’s amethyst eyes darted away from Spike, landing briefly on both Ember and Flurry Heart.

It was the younger alicorn who didn’t appear to be cowed though, meeting her aunt’s eyes with her own defiant glare, “trust me, it got a lot easier at around the time Chrysalis burned down the tenth world with a fabricated war. Or was it the hundredth world?

“I don’t really remember anymore. You sort of just...stop counting them once the bodies pile up past a certain point,” she scoffed with what was most likely not feigned indifference, “I lost all sympathy for changelings after the first trillion or so deaths they caused.

“It didn’t take them as long as you might think to reach that number either.”

Twilight found it difficult to put into words what she was feeling for her niece right now. She was disappointed, to be sure, that a mare who had once been so full of love and compassion―a near perfect reflection of her mother―become twisted into the spiteful alicorn standing here today, lacking even a glimmer of mercy. She’d known many creatures who forsook their nobler natures during times of strife. Intellectually, Twilight knew it could happen. Yet, to see it in the eyes of one that she’d known when they were a true innocent―a foal―it caused her physical pain.

And the purple mare despaired at the thought that she might have turned out this way had she been forced to take the ‘long way around’ to get to this point in time, like all the others had. Incremental sacrifices, year by year, decade by decade, until the sheer gravity of the change couldn’t even be recognized for what it was anymore.

Applejack’s convoluted chore list, but with a body count attached to it.

Twilight shook her head sadly, “we can’t lose sight of who and what we stand for,” she insisted, “if we just compromise our ideals whenever it suits us, then they’re not really ‘ideals’, are they? It’s easy to stand for something when times are good. What truly matters, and what makes a principle a ‘principle’, is when you hold fast to it even when things aren’t going so good.”

The purple alicorn sighed, “the torture has to stop,” she said again, leaving little doubt of her unwavering position on the matter, “prisoners will be treated with dignity.

“And these warped ‘Elements’,” she continued, “the ‘devotion’, ‘sacrifice’, and ‘power’ stuff? That has to end too. That’s not Harmony. It’s not Friendship,” Twilight glanced between the three of them, her expression almost pleading as she sought understanding, “I don’t understand how the three of you let things get this way, but you have to see how wrong it is, don’t you?”

Again, the dragons shared an uncomfortable look, Ember speaking for them, “the Dragon Clans needed a more ‘palatable’ version of the Elements,” she explained, frowning. Obviously, she didn’t seem to be any more pleased with the change than Twilight was, “I tried to keep them as close to the originals as I could, but…” she shook her head, “it hasn’t been easy,” another uncomfortable look, “there have been...issues.”

“Cinder mentioned that your staff has been acting―?” Twilight prompted.

Ember coughed very loudly now, completely drowning out what the purple alicorn was saying, “―fine. It’s been acting perfectly fine,” she stated firmly, casting a hard gaze at the purple mare for several seconds before her eyes darted briefly to the nearby guards. Clearly, the Dragon Lord didn’t trust them to be nearly as circumspect as Twilight did.

“You know what?” Spike piped up now, “I’m hungry. Anypony else hungry? Yeah, you’re all hungry, I bet. And tired,” he hurriedly went on, “long trip. Hungry and tired. All of us. Let’s get you to your room, Twilight. Right this way,” he said, waving a clawed hand towards one of the corridors, his teeth showing through a forced grin.

Only when the door closed on Twilight’s luxurious quarters did Spike seem to finally relax. Ember too looked a little more relieved to be out of earshot of other creatures. Flurry Heart, however, didn’t become any less tense. The pink alicorn simply took herself to the far side of the parlor room that they were in and made herself comfortable on a divan, acting completely uninterested in anything that the other three were talking about. This was likely a topic that she was well-versed in anyway.

Twilight, however, was quite curious to hear what was going on with Ember’s staff, “it’s not ‘fine’, is it?” she prompted.

“No,” the Dragon Lord conceded gruffly, “it’s not. It hasn’t been for a while now.”

“How long?”

Ember fidgeted uncomfortably for several seconds, exchangeling a glance with Spike, who nodded and encouraged her to share. The cyan dragoness finally sighed and slumped down into a well-padded chair of her own, “I started noticing that it was losing a bit of its ‘oomph!’ a few decades after becoming the Dragon Lord.”

Twilight’s jaw dropped open in stark surprise, “that long ago?! And you never said anything?”

The dragoness’ cheeks burned with embarrassment, “of course I didn’t!” she snapped, “do you know how long I’d have been in charge after admitting that the Staff of the Dragon Lord―an artifact that has existed for almost as long as dragon society itself―started losing its powers almost the moment I got it? The other dragons would have revolted! They’d have said it was a sign that I wasn’t supposed to be the Dragon Lord at all, and,” she stressed, casting a pointed look in Twilight’s direction, “that friendship with ponies was a mistake.

“The fledgling alliance between our races would have died in its egg,” she concluded bitterly.

Twilight let out a deep sigh as she digested the new information. It seemed that Ember and Spike hadn’t been completely straightforward with their own daughter about the seriousness of the problem either, “almost immediately…” she repeated, rubbing the back of her head. Ember merely nodded her confirmation.

“I talked to Starlight about it,” the Dragon Lord continued, “her theory was that the magic in the staff and the Magic of Friendship were incompatible.”

Twilight frowned now, “wait, you talked to Starlight about it, but you didn’t mention it to me?”

Ember cleared her throat and mumbled something under her breath that the purple alicorn hadn’t quite been able to hear, “what?” Again the cyan dragoness made a series of noises. Spike chortled, but quickly covered his reaction with a more neutral expression upon receiving a glare from his mate, “I still couldn’t quite hear you?” Twilight prompted again.

“I said: I thought she was you!” the Dragon Lord snapped irritably, this time more than loud enough to be easily heard by the alicorn. Spike was laughing a lot louder too. He received a smack on his head with the staff for his trouble, but the reprimand only encouraged him to half-heartedly suppress his mirth, and not stop it altogether.

“Seriously?” Twilight’s tone was incredulous.

“Hey! I’ve got pony-face-blindness,” the dragoness insisted. The volume of Spike’s laughter increased slightly.

The purple alicorn’s features scrunched up in confusion, “...but I have wings,” she pointed out, extending one to serve as an example, “and at the time, I’d have been about three times her size…” she added, gesturing with a hoof at her stature, which was much larger than that of a typical pony, “...and sitting on the throne in Canterlot!”

“But you had similar faces...and you were both ponies,” Ember insisted defiantly, “hence: ‘pony face blindness’!” Twilight wasn’t certain that that first part was entirely accurate, but neither did she feel that she was going to make much more headway on this specific topic, so she let the matter slide.

The Dragon Lord’s consort finally managed to sober himself up enough to talk, though his eyes were still dancing with barely contained amusement, “the way Starlight explained it, since the staff’s magic was tuned to dragons, and our inner magic is based on domination, and power, and control, and stuff like that―you know: dragony things―then when Ember started relying on Friendship magic, the staff wasn’t getting passively recharged the way it used to.

“Eventually, it ran out of juice and the only way to get it powered up again would have been if Ember started behaving and ruling more like her father had. Not that Torch was a bad Dragon Lord,” he hastily amended, looking briefly to Ember, who offered up another shrug and an eye roll, not seeming to feel disparaged by Spike’s comments on her father. Then the purple dragon looked back in Twilight’s direction, “but it’s safe to say he wasn’t very ‘friendship-oriented’.

“The result, though, is that the staff can’t control other dragons anymore. So, if the other Clans decide they want to, say…” Spike started to fidget again, looking a little more nervously at the purple alicorn, mumbling the next portion in a bit of a rush that Twilight almost had too much trouble understanding, “plundertheHarmonySphereandtakeeverythingforthemselves,” he coughed, “well, there’s nothing that Ember could do to actually stop them from doing just that,” he finished with a helpless shrug.

Twilight blinked as she parsed out the rushed portion of what the dragon had just said, “they want to what?” she glanced between both dragons for confirmation that she’d heard him right.

Ember nodding her head reluctantly, grimacing, “the Khans are getting restless,” she informed Twilight, “they’re seeing all of the fighting and destruction going on in the Harmony Sphere and are basically of the opinion that, if the other creatures are just going to break all of their own stuff anyway, then us dragons might as well take it for ourselves. Add it to our hoards. Grow ourselves big and powerful again like it was back when my father was in charge.”

“It was a real uphill battle early on convincing dragons to not focus on hoarding,” Spike added, “the feelings of power―and the actual power―that come with Greed-Induced Bigness are very enticing to us dragons. It’s like the best ‘high’ a dragon could possibly experience.

“Of all the Elements, generosity was the hardest to get dragons to adopt. But we did,” he grinned now, sharing a proud look with Ember, “in the end, we got dragons to share and spread out their hoards. Keeping all of us about the same size.

“But now…” he cringed and shook his head, “well, it’s getting a lot harder to keep the other dragons convinced that we shouldn’t just straight up pillage the Sphere. It’s pretty hard for a dragon to just sit back and watch all those valuables get destroyed over and over again when we ‘know’ they’d be ‘safer’ with us.”

“I’ve basically been keeping them from jumping the gun by promising them some pretty generous rewards once we defeat Chrysalis,” Ember said in an unhappy tone, seeming to recognize that it was hardly an ideal compromise.

“What kind of ‘rewards’?” Twilight found herself experiencing more than a little trepidation as she asked the question.

“I hope you don’t mind passing out a few dozen regional governorships once the dust settles.”

The alicorn grimaced. It wasn’t that she had anything against dragons, of course. Broadly speaking, they were quite tough and resourceful. Both qualities that leaders benefited from. However, they did tend to lack empathy, which was another very useful trait to have in such a position of authority. The thought of having to deal with the sorts of fallout one could expect from ornery dragons ruling over collections of systems for however hundreds of years they ended up wanting to retain those positions didn’t exactly fill Twilight with a lot of warm and fuzzy feelings.

Still, “well, it’s not like they won’t have earned them,” she acknowledged with a wan smirk. She had little doubt that the Dragon Clans would be doing the bulk of the fighting in their war against Chrysalis. Giving the Dragons custody of the systems that they liberated from the changelings was hardly an unfair compensation. As long as they respected the laws and the decrees coming out of Equus, she supposed that she could live with it.

“Glad to hear it,” the Dragon Lord nodded, “I’ll keep doing what I can to keep the other Clans in line but…” she grunted in frustration, “let’s just say that the sooner we kick this thing off, the more likely they’ll be to stay ‘on task’, alright?”

“I understand. Thank you―both of you―for everything you’ve done,” Twilight said, smiling broadly at the pair of dragons, “it means a lot to me. I know that it couldn’t have been easy, and I can’t even imagine the challenges you’ve had to face holding everycreature together like you have―all of you,” she amended, casting an eye in Flurry Heart’s direction as well, “and while there may have been some missteps along the way, I―”

That seemed to be all the criticism that the princess-regent was willing to tolerate for the day. Twilight and the pair of dragons found their attention diverted towards the divan where Flurry Heart had been lounging as a teacup that she’d been drinking from was hurled to the ground, shattering to pieces.

The soft pink alicorn was standing erect now, her baby blue eyes narrowed fiercely at Twilight. The corner of her lip curling up in a derisive sneer, “oh, do you have a problem with how I’ve been trying to clean up the mess you left me?” the purple mare winced, but wasn’t given an opportunity to respond yet, “am I not handling things the way you would have?

“I know!” the princess-regent’s face brightened with a feigned revelation. Both dragons exchanged stunned expressions, but wisely chose not to intervene, “how about I sit on my flank for a thousand years, ignoring the problem completely, and then drop off the face of the fucking galaxy and let somepony else figure out how to deal with it!

“That’s how you’d have done it, right?” the faux smile from earlier was gone now, replaced completely by a very genuine expression of utter contempt that almost caused Twilight physical pain to see directed at her by her niece.

“One. Thousand. Years,” Flurry Heart growled through tightly gritted teeth as she marched closer to the purple alicorn, “that’s how long you had to deal with them. A whole millenia to figure out what to do with Chrysalis, Cozy Glow, and Tirek. But did you? No. Of course not.

“You were too busy building your precious little love letter to Celestia~” she sing-songed in a mockingly sweet tone, “a thousand years old, and still pining for that hag’s approval,” the younger alicorn sneered at her aunt, “I can’t believe how many trillions of creatures had to suffer because of your misplaced mommy-issues.”

“Flurry, I―” Twilight tried to finally get a word in edgewise, but the princess-regent wasn’t having it yet, it seemed.

“Princess-Regent Flurry Heart to you!” she snapped sharply, glaring at the purple mare, “you can’t even conceive of everything I’ve had to do to keep the resistance alive; but let me assure you that I earned my title.

“Not that you left me any choice in the matter,” the pink mare continued, her words softening into a much more somber tone, “you threw me right into the deep end, leaving me to sink―and take everypony else in the galaxy with me―or swim, and managed to somehow save us all.

She snorted, “and now, just as we’re poised to start making a push into the Sphere, here you appear. Ready to take all the credit and resume your position as though you didn’t miss a beat,” her eyes narrowed at that purple alicorn, “and how much of this little ‘dark chapter’ are you going to let stay in the history books, hm? In a thousand years, what are you going to let the creatures of the League remember about what I did to keep the light of hope alive?”

Twilight jerked in stark surprise, “Flurry, I would never hide the truth―”

“Princess-Regent,” she snarled again, cutting off the elder mare, “and don’t you fucking start with that bullshit. How many books do you think I found talking about those three and how to defeat them, hmm?

“Cozy Glow was a fucking footnote in the history texts that I could find, and she was arguably the worst of them all!”

This revelation stunned Twilight. Seeing her obvious surprise prompted yet another mirthless laugh from the pink alicorn, “oh, yes indeed. You’d think that it would be the twenty-meter tall centaur leveling whole planets, or the queen of a hoard of shape-shifting psychovores that were the biggest threats, but no. No, the pony who did the most damage to the League was that pink midget of a pegasus.

“For decades after Tirek was defeated, she was traipsing around the galaxy putting bugs in the ear of every regional governor that would give her the time of day. The New Lunar Empire seceding? That was all her doing. As was the formation of every major government that exists in the Sphere today. The Periphery and its multitude of nations was her doing too. Even without Chrysalis slipping her agents in everywhere, the League would have fractured.

“The only silver lining was that the little turd was mortal,” the alicorn spat, “but she’d done her damage.

“All the while, ‘you’―meaning Chrysalis―just had to sit back and let it all happen. Though, I’d certainly argue that the real you was just as responsible as she was.”

Flurry Heart’s cold gaze was riveted to the purple alicorn now, “why didn’t you break that damn statue the minute it was made?”

Twilight didn’t answer immediately, not entirely sure if she was actually being given an opportunity to answer this time. However, the princess-regent did indeed seem willing to let the other alicorn get a word in this time, so she swallowed and tried her best to keep her voice steady. That tirade had shaken her a lot more than she would have thought, “killing them would have been wrong,” she insisted mekely.

“Better to let them return and be responsible for the deaths of countless trillions! How noble of you...” Flurry Heart concluded mockingly.

Twilight shook her head, “no, that wasn’t it at all. They deserved a chance to redeem themselves. Like Discord. Like Starlight. Like―”

“And when exactly was it that you were going to get around to ‘redeeming’ them, hmm?” the punk mare cut in with a snarl, “because you missed your chance with two of them. Tirek and Cozy are dead. Not a single good deed between them.

“And if you think―for even a second―that Chrysalis is getting anything other than a bullet in her head for everything’s she’s done to the creatures of this galaxy, you’re fucking delusional,” she spat, glaring daggers at the purple mare.

Twilight’s mouth moved wordlessly for several seconds. Eventually, all she managed to get out was a rather anemic, “I’m sorry.”

Flurry Heart snorted, “of course you are,” she said contemptuously, “you want to prove it? Abdicate.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” the pink alicorn said with a sneer, “tomorrow morning. Make an announcement that you thought it over, looked at everything that I’ve accomplished since you went missing, and decided that you wouldn’t be able to do a better job, so you’re officially stepping down and designating me as your successor to the throne.”

“Flurry Heart, maybe we should take a moment and all just―” Spike ventured, but the pink mare was obviously having none of it.

She dismissed his words with a flick of her wing, leering back at him, “princess. Regent,” she growled at the purple dragon, who went immediately silent, “and if I want the opinion of a consort, I’d get one of my own,” she then snapped her eyes to Ember to see if the Dragon Lord had any desire to object to how the alicorn was speaking to her mate. The dragoness simply stared back levely, but said nothing. Flurry Heart turned back to the purple mare again.

“If you’re really sorry, you’ll step down and let me finish what you left me to start,” she repeated coldly, “you’ll do what’s right for my subjects,” Twilight winced at that line, but offered no rebuke of the assertion, “I’ll leave you to think it over. I expect you to make the right decision.

“I’ll even do you the courtesy of not having to publicly admit that everything that went wrong is entirely your fault,” Flurry Heart added, finally turning and heading for the exit, presumably to attend to her other duties for the day. She did have a princedom to rule, after all, “consider that my ‘farewell’ gift to you.”

She paused at the door and looked back over her shoulder, a sneer marring her lips, “oh, and before I forget: I’ll let you have your little pet changeling in here for whatever it is you want to do with it,” her wing waved around Twilight’s suite, “but if you bring it anywhere near me, I’ll kill it myself.”

Flurry Heart finally left, slamming the door behind her.

Twilight’s hind end slumped to the floor, the purple mare’s ashen face staring at the closed door that Flurry Heart had left through. That reunion hadn’t gone at all like she’d thought it would―like she’d hoped it would. She was simply stunned at the way the pink alicorn had reacted. The contempt, the visceral hatred...it wasn’t anything like the Flurry Heart that she’d known just a year ago, from her perspective.

“What happened to her?” she asked in a trembling voice that betrayed exactly how close she was to tears.

“She lost her mother, her empire, and her subjects, all in a single day,” Spike answered soberly, “and she’s been watching it all burn ever since.”

Unlike Flurry Heart, there was no audible malice in the purple dragon’s words, but they still struck Twilight like a buck to the gut. She’d lost those things as well, she realized, but it had been different. For Twilight, she’d effectively just ‘woken up’ one day to find they’d been taken. And they’d been lost largely due to her own past failings.

Flurry Heart had watched it happen in real time. She’d suffered through those events as they unfolded.

Worse, perhaps, was that she knew that all that suffering hadn’t been because of any mistakes that she’d made herself, but had been the result of another’s fuck ups. Flurry Heart had a target for her ire.

Twilight found herself hard pressed to fault her.

“I can try and talk to her if you’d like?” Ember offered, “I’ve learned how to deal with her over the years,” the Dragon Lord grimaced, “I mean, I haven’t seen her quite like this before, but I can probably―”

“No,” Twilight said softly, shaking her head, “I appreciate the offer but, no,” she affirmed. The purple mare took a deep, ragged, breath and let it out slowly, “she...may be right,” the admission was like a dagger twisting in her gut, “my assuming the throne would be a dramatic change in leadership on the eve of a major military campaign. Morale would suffer. Five hundred years of habits can’t be shaken off quickly.

“It’s best if Flurry Heart retains the throne,” Spike quirked a brow at Twilight’s assertion, her tone suggesting that she was trying to convince herself of the statement as much as the pair of dragons, “she’s held things together for this long. She can manage,” the purple alicorn was nodding her head a little too quickly as she took in another steadying breath.

“Give her all the support she needs,” Twilight continued, looking to the others, “both of you. I’ll...try and find another way to be useful,” she didn’t know what way that was yet, but she’d find something.

“Swank,” Slipshod remarked upon finally being shown into the quarters he’d been informed he would be staying in while at the Palace. He’d honestly feared the worst when nearly half a day passed between the time that the DropShip had landed and the time when he’d finally been ushered off of it. He’d been wondering if they hadn’t been physically digging a new pit beneath the dungeon to throw him into.

He certainly wouldn’t have dared to expect this level of opulence. If the gold-trimmed vaulted ceilings and polish marble floors, and gargantuan tapestries, that comprised these chambers were where they were stashing their changeling ‘prisoner’, then Slipshod could only imagine where Twilight had ended up―

“Ah, you’re finally here.”

The changeling jerked with a start at the unexpected sound of the purple alicorn’s voice coming from a nearby doorway. He wheeled around and gawked at Twilight, “what are you doing here?”

“...it’s my room,” the princess stated flatly, quirking an eyebrow. Upon seeing the confusing coloring the stallion’s face, she explained further, “you’re going to be staying here because―as much as it pains me to admit it―I’m not completely convinced that you won’t wind up dead if you stayed anywhere else,” the resignation in the alicorn’s voice was impossible to miss, “there are a half dozen guest rooms; so just pick one,” she turned around and slipped back through the doorway, “then join me and Cinder in the library.”

The changeling blinked in mild shock, “...this suite has its own library?” then another thought occurred to him, “wait; Cinder?”

Seeing as how he had no personal effects to unpack, Slipshod felt that picking out a room to designate for his exclusive use was a bit excessive. He might as well sleep on one of the dozen or so couches in this place for all it mattered. Strictly speaking, the stallion was reasonably certain that the lumpiest divan in this suite would be exponentially more comfortable than his bunk on the Galloway. Even the marble floors of this place were feeling pretty inviting, come to think of it…

The changeling hurriedly trotted after the alicorn, not convinced that he’d have been able to locate the library without getting lost once or twice during the attempt. Just as Twilight had indicated, the cobalt-blue dragoness was already there, leaning over a large wooden table, a glass of amber liquid held in one clawed hand. Slipshod suspected that the star admiral was likely off-duty, and not just because of the liquor. Her uniform had been ditched for a pink satin robe. Strangely, the earth pony found himself feeling a little uncomfortable, a sensation which only increased in intensity when he finally noticed that Twilight was ‘dressed down’ in a shimmering white cotton robe of her own.

“I feel very overdressed,” the stallion murmured, clearing his throat.

The purple alicorn seemed to miss a lot of the substance of what he’d said and simply flicked out a dismissive wing as she approached the same table that the dragoness was hunched over, “then feel free to strip down. Heck, revert your form for all I care,” her horn started glowing and a glass of red wine floated from across the room to her lips, where she took a generous sip before letting the remainder continue to hover nearby at the ready. A quick glance at the origin of the glass by the stallion, and the presence of the very nearly empty pair of wine bottles, suggested that this was far from the alicorn’s first sip of the evening.

Slipshod mulled over the purple princess’ offer for a few seconds, but ultimately shook his head, “I...shouldn’t,” then he cleared his throat and shook his head briefly to refocus his thoughts, “so what are you two finding so interesting here...oh,” the stallion didn’t even try to hide his surprise at what was on the table: a pile of maps and operations outlines.

These were the plans for the Clans’ invasion of the Harmony Sphere.

“Cinder’s helping to walk me through the planned operation to stop Chrysalis,” Twilight inclined her head briefly in the direction of the star admiral.

The dragoness shrugged and waved her claws at the table’s contents, “not that there’s anything super complicated about it,” she admitted, “our available numbers limit our options somewhat.

“We can’t conduct anything approaching a total invasion of the Harmony Sphere,” the star admiral explained, “we’ll never have the numbers for that; so an ‘invade and annex’ strategy is right out. We have to drive hard, right to the heart of the Sphere: Equus,” Cinder thrust her empty hand forward in a sharp stabbing motion, “it’ll be a slog, to be sure,” she acknowledged, “and securing only a narrow corridor for our advance means that our supply lines will be extremely vulnerable,” it was clear from her tone that she wasn’t a huge fan of that idea either, “but we can’t afford to divide our forces if we want to make sure we have the firepower necessary to overwhelm whatever Chrysalis has waiting for us in the Faust System...”

The dragoness let the last sentence hang in the air casting her gaze in the changeling’s direction, inviting him to contribute to the conversation. Slipshod’s lips cocked a wry smirk. “She’s got a massive WarShip fleet. The better part of a dozen battleships and a suitable complement of smaller hulls. They're anchored in orbit of the moon. Any run at Equus itself will take you right into them.”

Cinder grimaced and took a deep swallow of her scotch, “yeah...figured as much,” the ice in her glass clinked lightly as she started to swirl the contents, deep in thought. Finally she sighed, “we can probably do it. Assuming we don’t lose much on the way in,” a deeper frown now as her eyes scanned the maps and did a quick tally of the systems between Faust and the edge of the Sphere from where the Clans would make their start, “it’s going to tie up enough forces just keeping our supply lines open,” she sneered.

Slipshod looked at the maps now as well, and could clearly see what was gnawing at the dragoness. The Harmony Sphere was a vast realm, containing thousands of systems. Even a best time approach from the edge to Faust at its center would take scores of jumps. They couldn’t simply rush their goal, of course. An invasion of Equus would take thousands of DropShips and millions of soldiers. Those ships and creatures would need fuel and food respectively. Far more than a fleet could carry on its own.

They’d need to have supplies shipped in from the Clan systems on a near-constant rotation. Those convoys of food, fuel, and munitions, would be vital to the invasion. Losing even one group of cargo ships could doom the whole thing if it came at the wrong time. So each system they took would need to be fortified and defended. That would deplete their reserves of soldiers and ships. Not to mention taking precious time to accomplish. Time that Chrysalis would use to have ComSpark and the Mercenary Review Board bring in Sphere forces from anywhere they could get them.

The Clan’s invasion would turn into a slog, and could even end up getting bogged down completely. If that happened...well, then they’d effectively ‘lose’ the war. No matter how dramatically casualty counts might favor the invaders, there’d be no way that the Celestia League-in-Exile could ultimately take Equus and defeat Chrysalis.

Slipshod knew that they didn’t have the luxury of many options, but their ‘best’ hope was hardly what he’d have considered a ‘good’ one. Or even a likely one. Unfortunately, there was simply no way for the Clans to overcome their most crippling disadvantage: numbers. Technology, they had. Skills and training, they had. But numbers...never.

Nowhere near enough to defeat the Sphere outright if even a small fraction of worlds resisted them. Perhaps even not quite enough to hold even that singular narrow corridor. It simply depended on how obstinate the locals intended to be.

The changeling snorted with amusement. On the other hoof, if the populace welcomed the Clans, then they could sail right on through without much issue at all; almost right up to the doors of the Faust System itself. Not that he could think of a reason why any of the current leaders of the Harmony Sphere would ever welcome an outside force like the Clans. Even putting aside whatever hold Chrysalis and her agents had in their governments, there was simply no motivation for the heads of any of the Great Houses to want to allow a superior military force through their territory. They’d never trust it.

In order for a large force like theirs to be granted safe passage, they’d have to be effectively ‘bonded’ to them under contract―even if not one officially sanctioned by the MRB. However, every House’s leader already had a big-time bonded company in their pocket; and outfits that big didn’t particularly like to share. So, unless they found some ‘sixth Great House’ to latch onto they were―

The changeling stallion blinked as a wayward though blazed through his mind. It was a patently silly notion, he knew. Hardly a chance at all that it could work. But…

Slipshod thought on the notion for a few moments longer before his head started to nod along almost of its own accord. It was possible that they’d need to risk very little in the attempt and, if they came out on top, they’d have exactly what they needed: “an ally.”

He hadn’t been quite aware that he’d said the last two words aloud, but Cinder’s eyes wandered in the changeling’s direction, “pardon?”

The golden pony hesitated for a minute, reluctant to present a possibility that was quite likely to be discarded out of hoof just because of how slim of a chance it had of actually working, “if we had a Great House as our ally,” he said, “we wouldn’t have to fight our way through to Equus. And our supply lines would be pretty well protected.”

“Well, obviously,” the dragoness said in a droll tone, rolling her eyes at the idea, “but there’s not a chance in Luna’s stary galaxy that any of the Great Houses would ally with us.”

“They would if their leader owed us,” Slipshod pointed out.

“Probably,” the star admiral conceded, frowning in mild annoyance as she narrowed her gaze at the changeling, “but none of them do. Nor can I think of anything that could happen to make them ‘owe us’ anything.”

“What if we installed a new leader in one of the Houses?”

The dragoness’ eyes widened slightly as she considered the idea, though her expression soured not long after again, “that would certainly be a good reason for them to give us their support, but I can’t see any of the Successor States rallying around some obvious puppet that we planted on the throne. If whoever it is doesn’t have a solid claim to rule, then the alliance with our forces would be lucky to last out the year before they were overthrown in a revolt. Which wouldn’t be nearly enough time to take Equus.”

“And if I told you that I know somepony who did have a strong claim to a throne? Somepony who would absolutely love to accept help from pretty much anycreature in the galaxy in order to get it too?”

He seemed to have Twilight’s attention now too, “who?”

“Victoria Blueblood.”

Cinder let out a derisive chortle, “it’s a sad state of affairs when I know more about Sphere politics than a changeling operative,” she said in a mirthful tone, taking another sip of her scotch before candidly informing the pair, “she died over two years ago. Killed while organizing a coup against her dear uncle Dominus.”

“She wasn’t killed,” Slipshod stated flatly, fixing his gaze on the dragoness, “she escaped. Her death was a ruse.”

The sapphire star admiral was clearly more than just a little skeptical of the changeling’s claims, “and what makes you say that? How could you possibly know what ‘really’ happened to Victoria Blueblood?”

“Because my family―or rather, the real Slipshod’s family―were the principal backers of that coup attempt,” he informed the dragoness. The changeling had her attention now, “after Chrysalis’ agents sold them out to Dominus, they used the time they had left to get her to safety.

“And I know where she’s been hiding.”

“How?!” Cinder gawped incredulously.

“Because Slipshod’s father told me,” the changeling grinned at the stunned dragoness for a brief moment before letting the facade fracture somewhat as he was forced to acknowledge some of the facts that he was gleaning over, “well, okay, I didn’t find out until over a year after I left Equus that he had,” he admitted, “and I never suspected that Victoria was alive either, in all honesty. I bought the official story just like everypony else.

“And then I slept with Dominus’ wife.”

Twilight spit up her wine, “y―what!?” she cringed, looking defeatedly down at her―now quite thoroughly stained―robes, “...poop.”

“Dominus likes two things,” Slipshod explained, fetching the purple alicorn a napkin. The princess took the small square of cloth in her telekinesis, glanced down at the mess that she had made of herself and the floor, stared blankly at the extent of the catastrophe, and found herself at a loss for where to even begin to address the mess, “books, and trophies.

“He especially likes books that he keeps as trophies. While I was mounting his misses, I noticed that he had a copy of Sun Kazoo’s Art of War on his desk―which isn’t any great surprise, honestly,” he acknowledged. One could find the definitive text on warfare and tactics on the shelf in most senior officers’ studies, “except...this one had a embossing of House Lackadaisy on its spine―which was Slipshod’s House.

“That book came from Slipshod’s father’s personal study,” he continued, “Slipshod himself had brought one exactly like it with him to Sandhoof Academy. Because of course he did, he was there to study BattleSteed combat tactics.

“But it was in that moment that I thought about all of the letters that I received from my―from Slipshod’s” he corrected hastily, “father. I used to think that old stallion was half-senile, honestly. He’d bring up Sun Kazoo at the weirdest times in those letters. At the time, I thought he was just some obsessed old codger and ignored it.

“But, in that moment, seeing that book...I found myself wondering,” he chuckled, “honestly, I started pushing rope there for a good while I was so distracted,” the purple alicorn’s face contorted in mild confusion as she mouthed the words. Cinder hid her muzzle behind an overlong sip of scotch, “anyway, when I got back to the Galloway, I acted on the hunch, cracked open my copy of The Art of War, and started rereading my old mail.

“Turned out it was code,” he shrugged, “never knew it at the time. I guess nopony else did either, because Dominus pardoned me for my father’s―” he sighed in frustration but quickly ceased to find fighting the slips worthwhile any longer. They knew what he meant by no, surely, “my father’s coup attempt.

“But...yeah. I know what the plan was in the event that they were discovered,” he finally concluded, “they were going to smuggle Victoria out of the Commonwealth to one of the Periphery nations.”

“I don’t suppose you know which one?” Cinder asked, frowning slightly. After all, there were the better part of a dozen middling lesser factions on this side of the Sphere alone. They couldn’t be expected to search them all for the hiding Blueblood family member.

“Assuming she hasn’t moved on of her own accord, she should still be somewhere in the Minotaurian Concordat.”

The star admiral mulled over the information as she reached out and sought to bring up maps and other available information for the indicated area. A largely unhappy grunt escaped her throat as she took in what she’d found, “something tells me that they wouldn’t be very happy to see a Clan task force show up on their doorsteps. The Farisians like us well enough, but we haven’t made a lot of inroads with the minotaurs.”

“Why not?” Twilight asked curiously, having apparently mostly given up on trying to salvage the damage done to her robe.

“The only creatures more prideful than minotaurs are dragons,” Cinder cast a sardonic smile at the alicorn, then thought for a brief moment and added, “and maybe the yaks. Honestly a toss-up there. My point is: they soundly rejected our requests to let any of our agents pass through their territory.

“They’re not going to let us in to look for Victoria, if she’s even still there,” the dragoness paused, then cast a knowing look towards the purple alicorn, “not voluntarily anyway.”

It would have been patently visible to anycreature how little Twilight liked the implication of the sapphire officer’s words, “you’re not seriously recommending that the Clans invade the minotaurs, are you?”

“I’m letting you know that we have that option,” Cinder elaborated patiently, clearly very aware of just how unpalatable the mare was going to find the suggestion, “and I will point out as a matter of record, that however many lives might be lost during a military raid into the Concordat, that number would be only a fraction of the casualties that will be incurred by whichever of the Harmony Sphere powers are chosen for us to move through on our way to Equus.

“Objectively, the Concordat might be the better option,” the star admiral concluded. At least she had the courtesy to sound like she understood why Twilight wouldn’t be thrilled with that information. Unlike pirate bands or violent Red Reiver raiders, the citizens and military forces of the Minotaurian Concordat would have done absolutely nothing to deserve the destruction coming their way. Even if it would represent a quantitatively lower loss of life than the equally undeserving inhabitants of the Harmony Sphere.

Was Twilight really supposed to feel better about slightly fewer innocent creatures dying in order for the Clans to defeat Chrysalis?

“Perhaps I can offer an alternative?” Slipshod said, wedging his way into their conversation. Both of the much taller creatures looked in his direction expectantly, “send the Steel Coursers,” the pair exchanged looks with one another, not appearing to be wholly convinced, “a mercenary outfit freelancing in the Periphery would hardly be out of place,” he pointed out, “and Squelch is pretty resourceful. I can give her what I know about Victoria Blueblood, along with whatever intel dossiers you guys ever made on her,” he gestured at Cinder, “I’m sure she’ll be able to find a lead or two within a month of getting there.”

Twilight spent a few moments mulling over the proposal, and seemed to find it quite amenable. The star admiral, however, looked less than enthusiastic about the idea, prompting a query from Twilight, “why not? We can make contact with Victoria and, at the same time, not have to worry about stepping on any cloven hooves doing it.”

“Those mercenaries know far too much about what we’re doing out here,” Cinder said unhappily, “if they returned to the Sphere and reported everything to ComSpark―”

“They’d be signing their own death warrants anyway, and Squelch knows it,” Slipshod cut in, “Chrysalis isn’t going to ‘pardon’ any member of that crew exactly because they know too much about what’s going on. They know stuff that you guys don’t want Chrysalis knowing and they know stuff about Chrysalis that she doesn’t want the rest of the Sphere knowing.

“The Coursers are mercenaries through-and-through,” the golden stallion continued, “if you guarantee them pay, and carry through on your promise to get their families out of harm’s way, they’ll fight for you.”

Admittedly, Slipshod wasn’t one hundred percent positive that each and every member currently serving as part of the crew on the Galloway was exactly willing to fight on behalf of the ‘Disciples’, no matter how many zeros were inscribed on the check. There was a lot of propaganda to work through on that end of things, after all. However, Squelch was certainly smart enough to have seen everything for what it really was by now. Many other members of the crew had to be questioning things now too, given the indisputability of where they were, what they’d seen over the last month, and who they were surrounded by.

There were bound to be a die-hard hold out or two―there always were in any group―but the changeling had faith enough in his comrades―former comrades, he mentally amended with a wince―that most of them would follow Squelch’s lead. If not for the ‘good of the galaxy’ or any other particularly noble ideal, then at least for the promise of earning significant personal fortunes.

Twilight looked back at the dragoness, “what would it take to make that happen?” the alicorn sounded almost eager about the idea now.

“A small miracle,” was Cinder’s sarcastic reply. At Twilight’s frown, she elaborated, “ultimately, Princess-Regent Flurry Heart has the final say in an operation like this one. I can meet with the rest of the advisory cabinet―ask Dragon Lord Ember to give the mission her blessing―and get them to endorse it.”

A thought occurred to the star admiral as she scratched the back of her neck, hesitant to make the recommendation, “you could make it a condition of your abdication,” she said. Twilight grimaced, but at least didn’t discount the notion out of hoof, “tell the princess-regent that she can have the throne as long as she lets you try and secure the League-in-Exile an ally in the Sphere to pass our forces through.

“She’ll probably go for it,” Cinder continued, “after all, it would cut down significantly on the time it would take our forces to reach Equus once the invasion’s launched.”

“Abdication?” Slipshod glanced with surprise between the pair, “you’re abdicating? I thought the whole point was that they couldn’t―or at least didn’t want to―launch this invasion without you leading it?”

The purple alicorn grimaced, refilling her wine glass with the last dregs of the second bottle, “it has been indicated to me that my leadership qualities might be found...lacking,” she took a long drink from her glass. She then sighed, looking despondently down into her remaining wine as she gently sloshed the contents around with her magic, “I have...made mistakes. I acknowledge that. As you yourself have pointed out,” she looked back at the changeling, “this galaxy is very different from the one I remember.

“It plays by different rules. Ones that I don’t yet understand, or even agree with,” she added with a rueful smile, “even if the leaders of the other Dragon Clans would accept me and follow me―and I’m not convinced that they would,” Cinder’s expression suggested that she was forced to unhappily agree with the notion, clearly disheartened that her fellow dragons would fail to fall easily in line behind the ‘rightful’ princess of the League, “I know I’m not the kind of leader that they’d respect.

“Chrysalis is powerful,” the alicorn continued, “taking her down will not be easy. My ascension and my temperament could rock the very pillars upon which the society of both the Clans and the League-in-Exile are built. Our chances of victory are too tenuous to risk lowering them any further with internal friction.

“Maybe someday, when the galaxy is a calmer place, there will be room for the kind of Harmony I used to know. In fact, I know that day will come,” she affirmed, sounding determined and self-assured once more, if only for a fleeting moment, “and I will commit to working towards it once we’ve removed Chrysalis.

“But, for now, I’ll be taking a ‘back seat’. Helping wherever I can, of course; but just not as a princess of the realm,” Twilight paused, an amused little snort escaping her nostrils, “...just like old times.”

She tossed back the remainder of her glass before casting a glance in the direction of the two now completely empty bottles. For a brief moment, she considered teleporting in a third, but eventually decided against it. She still had to be somewhat useful tonight.

Slipshod nodded, acknowledging a few good points that the purple alicorn had made regarding her mindset and temperament. In his estimation, Twilight wasn’t necessarily ‘incompetent’ as a leader, per se; she was just outside of her element. Given enough time to properly adapt―along with an actual willingness to do so―she could easily become the sort of inspiring leader that a movement to defeat Chrysalis would benefit from having. She didn’t necessarily have to prove herself to be a tactical genius―that’s what senior military commanders like Cinder were for―so long as she was charismatic enough to inspire devotion among those following her.

Twilight certainly seemed to have it from the star admiral. Though that had likely been helped along by her own parents’ faith in their old friend’s abilities.

Perhaps this mission to secure Victoria as an ally could serve as a validation of Twilight’s capability in that regard. If the purple princess was indeed able to convince the Blueblood pretender to allow the Clans access to her realm so that they could invade Equus, that would have to give her quite a lot of political clout among the exiles.

“So,” Twilight began, finally setting the glass down and turning to regard the earth pony, “which of us gets to convince Squelch to sign on to this plan?”

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Twilight said as Princess-soon-to-no-longer-be-Regent Flurry Heart finally entered the throne room. The elder purple alicorn was choosing to believe that there had been genuinely important affairs of state which had kept Flurry Heart busy for the last three hours since Twilight had been allowed into the room. The annoyed expression on Spike’s face as he and Ember followed the younger mare in suggested that belief might have been misplaced.

The leader of the League-in-Exile remained silent as she crossed all of the way to the throne sitting upon the raised dais and took her seat. Only then did she see fit to respond, leveling her cool gaze at the purple mare, “I have been informed,” her eyes darted briefly to the Dragon Lord, “that you have seen fit to unilaterally revise our entire invasion strategy,” the princess’ teeth were grinding by the end.

Twilight took a moment to ensure that she was properly composed. Flurry Heart was upset―angry even. Justified or not, she was directing all of her ire at Twilight, and that meant that the alicorn was facing a significant handicap when it came to trying to convince the pink mare to see things her way. The usual inherent reluctance to accept another’s ideas over their own would be many times more pronounced in Flurry Heart, and even the slightest hint of aggression on Twilight’s part wouldn’t do anything but prompt Flurry Heart to dig in her hocks even further on the issue.

She had to be diplomatic about this―submissive even. Whatever sense of pride she had needed to be temporarily suspended if she wanted to be able to successfully plead her case. If she failed, and the plan as it stood was allowed to go ahead, billions could die. Worse, the invasion might even fail in the face of all of those deaths, with no hope of a second attempt in the future.

The plan that she, Star Admiral Cinder, and Slipshod, had worked out last night had its risks, certainly; but Twilight also firmly believed that it offered a much better chance of defeating Chrysalis. Even if they failed to install Victoria into power, there was a negligible chance that the changelings would find out about the Clans anyway, and so it would still be possible for the original invasion plan to be used anyway.

There was effectively nothing to lose by trying out the new approach, and perhaps everything to gain, and uncountable lives to be saved.

She had to make Flurry Heart see that.

A good start was to make sure that she made absolutely no mention of Slipshod’s involvement, “if that was the message you received, then I’m sorry that there was a mistake,” Twilight began, bowing her head slightly in the seated alicorn’s direction, “I would never go behind your back and change any of the plans you’d authorized,” Flurry Heart grunted, but didn’t outright contradict the purple mare’s statement, which she took as a good sign.

“Last night I asked Star Admiral Cinder to review the invasion plan with me. While I won’t be leading it, I do want to help in some way, and so I thought it best to understand it,” which was entirely true, Twilight noted to herself, “however, during the briefing, an observation was made that the existing plan would have a much higher chance of success if we didn’t have to fight our way through the Harmony Sphere.”

“Obviously,” Flurry Heart snorted dismissively, “a foal could have told you that. However, there’s not a chance in Harmony that any of the existing Successor States would ever let our fleets pass unmolested through their space.”

“None of the current leaders, no,” Twilight agreed, “however, there is credible intelligence that suggested Victoria Blueblood, niece to Dominus Blueblood, escaped the Commonwealth and may still be alive and operating in the Periphery. If she could be found, and successfully installed as the Archon of the Pony Commonwealth, there is every possibility that she would grant our forces passage. The Commonwealth’s borders extend practically right to Equus’ doorstep.”

Spike’s and Ember’s eyes widened and the pair of dragons exchanged intrigued looks. They clearly recognized the benefit to the invasion that such passage represented. Flurry Heart was no fool either, but she was a lot more skeptical, “how reliable is this ‘intelligence’?”

“It’s over two years out of date,” Twilight admitted, “and we know only the approximate region where she was going to,” keeping details of the plan or its detractions to herself was hardly going to help her case if Flurry Heart ever learned the truth, so there was no advantage to doing so. The purple alicorn resolved to be as upfront as she could reasonably get away with without completely poisoning Flurry Heart’s opinion of the proposed plan, “but a search for her can be done reasonably quickly. If she’s alive, then we can use her. If she’s dead, then there’s no reason to alter the invasion plans as they stand.”

“Finding her is hardly any guarantee that she can be successfully installed as the new Archon,” Flurry Heart pointed out, sounding properly skeptical, as opposed to unreasonably dismissive. She was making a very valid point, and one that was arguably the single-greatest obstacle to the revised plan. Her first attempt at a coup had failed, after all. What assurances could be made that a second would be more successful?

Twilight didn’t have an answer to that, unfortunately. If they did manage to find Victoria alive, then any pitch she made for the leadership of the Commonwealth would require the backing of a large military force. They couldn’t import one from the League-in-Exile. Her showing up out of nowhere with a massive military force with no easily explained origin would risk tipping their hand to the changelings and undermine everything that they were trying to accomplish anyway.

The Coursers were a group of just three BattleSteeds at the moment. Hardly an overwhelming military force. They were barely a recon detachment. It was at least within the realm of possibility that something of a ‘bloodless’ coup could be launched, bypassing most of the need to fight. Among the standing armies at least. Dominus’ House Guard would be another matter. As would any mercenaries he hired to fight against Victoria. Most worrisome among those would, of course, be the―

“Timberwolf’s Dragoons.”

All eyes went to Spike now, as he was the one who’d seemed to bring up the renowned mercenary company unprompted. Flurry Heart frowned at the dragon initially, but then began to mull over the name with apparent appreciation. This only served to make Twilight’s already confounded expression twist up in even further confusion.

Fortunately, her former Number One Assistant came to her rescue, explaining, “Timberjack, the leader of the Dragoons, is one of ours,” he informed the purple alicorn, “most of the company’s leadership are Clanners, actually. We let a few of Chrysalis’ agents into non-essential positions within the company to keep her at ease, but it’s firmly under Timberjack’s control.”

He looked over at Flurry Heart now, “we can send him orders to have the Dragoons back Victoria. With any luck, it’ll just take a few skirmishes in the capital to oust Dominus.”

“You’re controlling one of the mercenary groups in the Harmony Sphere?” Twilight asked, almost incredulous. If the League-in-Exile was capable of operating in territories ostensibly controlled by Chrysalis like that, then why did they even need to draw up the sorts of invasion plans that Cinder had shown her last night?

“‘Controlling’ isn’t quite the word that I’d use,” Spike cautioned, “the Dragoons are given a lot of latitude so that they’re free to adapt to the situation in the Sphere and keep above suspicion. They operate no differently than any other mercenary group, except for the fact that they provide intel and financing to the Disciple cells so they can conduct their own disruption raids.”

The purple alicorn frowned, “they’re financing the Disciples? How? Wouldn’t that get noticed by the Mercenary Review Board that ComSpark set up? I was under the impression that it oversees a lot of the financial records for the mercenary companies operating in the Sphere.”

“There’s a lot of leeway with the MRB when it comes to things like ‘combat losses’,” the purple dragon assured her with a grin, “even if you’re just padding out the repair bills by a few percent, it adds up when you’re an organization the size of the Dragoons. And even if the irregularities do get noticed, it would just be chalked up to the typical graft and corruption that exists in nearly every Sphere corporate structure.

“A hundred thousand C-bits here, an extra Harasser reported destroyed there; suddenly a terrorist cell is being supported by one of the most highly regarded private mercenary groups in the galaxy,” he flashed Twilight a triumphant smile, “ComSpark doesn’t look too deep as long as Timberjack’s mercenaries fight the battles in the way they want them to, and the Commonwealth sure isn’t about to question what their primary striking force is doing with the money they’re earning by keeping the other House’s pet mercs at bay.

“That being said, it wouldn’t take a lot of work to arrange things so that the Dragoons declare themselves for Victoria when she makes her move for the Archonship,” Spike turned his attention towards Flurry Heart now, “it’s entirely possible that we could get Dominus replaced within the year if it goes well.”

The pink alicorn mulled over the proposal, then looked in Ember’s direction, “can you keep Clan Smoke Jabberwock in line for that long?”

The turquoise dragoness’ lips curled in a frown at the mere mention of the name, snorting in disdain, “I can try,” she admitted ruefully, “Khan Smolder’s been getting very vocal though. I don’t particularly like how much Garble and his band seem to be echoing her sentiments either.”

“Wait, you can’t be saying that Smolder is one of the dragons that wants to loot the Harmony Sphere,” Twilight said, aghast at the notion that one of her prized students from the inaugural class of the first Friendship Academy built on Equus was one of the Clan leaders calling for a hostile invasion which would target the denizens of the Sphere itself, instead of focusing exclusively on Chrysalis.

Both dragons looked like they were at least as disappointed by the notion as the purple alicorn was, but it was Spike who offered an explanation, “she...didn’t start out that way,” he told her, sounding almost despondent as he reflected on one of his oldest dragon friends, “she was just as determined as Ember and I were to take on Chrysalis―and only Chrysalis―when we finally returned to the Sphere. I even pushed for her to form a Clan of her own to help train the fighters I knew we’d need.

“At first, everything was going great; she’s a natural leader. But then…”

He broke off, unable to continue as the pain of those memories started to overwhelm him. The Dragon Lord picked up the story where he’d left off, “it’s no secret that it’s not only the changelings that are contributing to the Sphere’s instability. Plenty of opportunistic creatures are capitalizing on the chaos and destruction of their own accord, unprompted by Chrysalis’ agents.”

Squelch was immediately brought to Twilight’s mind as she listened to the turquoise dragoness. While the alicorn would never have thought of the sage mare as being a specifically malevolent individual, there was no denying her blatant apathy with regards to Chrysalis and her changelings, even when confronted with dire warnings of their sinister plans for the other creatures of the galaxy. The unicorn had said herself that she didn’t particularly care if Chrysalis was controlling everything, so long as she got to pursue the prospect of a retirement in luxury.

Twilight had no doubt that there were probably a great many creatures who felt the exact same way. As distressing as the notion was, the alicorn found herself wondering how much of the galaxy would rise up in opposition to Chrysalis if the changeling queen were to actually come right out and reveal her true self. It terrified her to think about how low of a percentage of the population that might turn out to be.

“Smolder found it harder and harder not to consider creatures like them to be complicit in Chrysalis’ schemes,” Ember went on, soberly, “she feels that the Clans aren’t doing enough to prepare, and that it’s not going to be enough to take down just Chrysalis if we’re going to restore Harmony. That, if we want to win, then dragons need to make themselves as big, and as powerful, as possible so that we can subjugate the whole Sphere, not just Equus.

“She’s preaching capitalizing on our GIB to the fullest. That means the need for massive hoards of wealth and material; and there’s only one way to get that,” the Dragon Lord shared a knowing look with Twilight.

“She has to know that’s not the way to go about restoring Harmony,” Twilight all but pleaded, still finding herself at odds with believing what she’d just heard about the burnt orange dragoness that’d she once helped to mentor, “the creatures of the Sphere are just...lost! They’re not evil, they just need to be shown the way again, that’s all!”

Flurry Heart spoke up this time, “it can be hard to make the distinction between apathy and malice when that ‘apathy’ leads to so much death and destruction,” the pink princess said coolly, glaring down at Twilight, “there’s no denying that a lot of creatures like the way that things are now. They’ve benefited greatly from the system that Chrysalis has put in place.

“Convincing them that a radical shift in the societal paradigm would benefit them even more might prove to be a tall order to some.”

Twilight gawked at her niece, “you’re not seriously advocating for what those dragons have planned, are you?”

The younger alicorn sneered at her aunt, not particularly liking the insinuation. The purple alicorn winced, now regretting even making it. She should have had more faith in the pink mare, “I’m just pointing out that it will be hard to convince everycreature in the Sphere to stand aside and let us help them. A lot of them won’t see it as ‘help’. They’ll regard us as a threat, no matter how much we assure them that we’re just interested in stopping the changelings. Because―to them―stopping Chrysalis does threaten them, and their preferred way of life.

“As much as we might like to think otherwise, there will be creatures who will voluntarily oppose our invasion, even if we confront them with irrefutable proof that the Twilight Sparkle they know is a shapeshifting monster bent on controlling them like livestock for her personal consumption.”

A wicked little snarl curled the pink alicorn’s lips, “especially if they’re convinced it’s somepony else who’ll end up getting husked by a changeling, and not them.”

The purple mare frowned, but said nothing. Flurry Heart wasn’t wrong. She knew ponies who thought like that. Squelch hadn’t found the concept of changelings or their infiltrations to be repugnant until it turned out that one of her pilots was a changeling, and that he’d used her as a source of sustenance. If the unicorn mercenary commander was a typical example of a modern Harmony Sphere resident―and Twilight had no reason to think she was anything but―then it was likely that the League-in-Exile would find few sympathetic allies when they invaded.

Even this revised plan that she, Cinder, and Slipshod had come up with wasn’t predicated at all on Victoria Blueblood’s possible desire to help the League-in-Exile’s invasion solely to free the Sphere from the clutches of the changelings. They were actually even resolved to keep most of that information to themselves just in case it poisoned Victoria against them.

After all, once they overthrew Chrysalis and set Flurry Heart up on the throne in Canterlot as the ruler of a newly restored Celestia League, the plan was to eventually dismantle the other existing star nations. There would be regional governors throughout the Harmony Sphere for logistic and managerial purposes, of course. No one pony could ever hope to directly govern the lives of trillions of beings, after all, not even immortal alicorn princesses. However, those governors would wield nowhere near the power, and enjoy only a fraction of the autonomy that the Archon of the Pony Commonwealth currently did.

There was no telling if Victoria would be willing to help them if she knew that it also meant someday ceeding her own throne and swearing fealty to Flurry Heart. While such things would never be outright demanded of either Victoria or the other current heads of state, there was no telling how they would perceive even the implication that it was eventually expected that they’d join the restored League voluntarily. They could very well assume that the eventual intent was to forcibly compel allegiance to the Celestia League.

After five centuries of living in such a bleak and cutthroat galaxy, Twilight wasn’t even sure that she’d be able to blame anycreature for assuming that the League-in-Exile’s plan after taking Equus was to move on to forcibly conquering the rest of the Sphere. Especially if one or more of the Dragon Clans launched their own much less discriminatory invasions. If Smolder really did take the forces that she controlled, and those of some of the other Clans, and started to conquer and plunder Sphere worlds...the damage to the image of even the most benign of the Clans intent on actually helping to free the Sphere from the changelings would be catastrophic.

Flurry Heart turned her attention back to Dragon Lord Ember now, “keep me apprised of Kahn Smolder and the others. If we can’t ultimately stop them from going through with their plan, then at the very least we should be ready to capitalize on the opportunity,” she must have noticed Twilight’s shocked expression, because the pink alicorn next turned a nonplussed smile on the purple mare, “if the other Clans are going to invade anyway, then we should be ready to make our move at the same time to take full advantage of the confusion.

“If enough of the Sphere’s forces are distracted dealing with the renegade Clans, we might be able to slip the forces still loyal to us all the way through to Equus. Not an ideal scenario,” Flurry Heart conceded with an anemic shrug, “but it’ll be all we have at that point.”

“Maybe I should talk to her,” Twilight said, turning towards Ember and her consort, “she knows me. I might be able to convince her to come onboard with the new plan,” she paused, looking back in the pink mare’s direction, “assuming you’re going to approve it?” she couldn’t hide the hopeful uptick at the end of the question.

Flurry Heart sighed and eventually nodded, though she did seem a little reluctant to agree that her aunt had come to her with a palatable proposal, “Spike’s right,” she acknowledged, “it doesn’t risk us much, and has the potential to make getting to Chrysalis a lot easier. What resources would you need?”

Now Twilight hesitated. This would be the hardest sell, honestly, “I would like to use the Steel Coursers―the Harmony Sphere mercenaries who rescued me,” already the League-in-Exile’s princess was narrowing her eyes in displeasure, but Twilight continued to argue her case, “they’re a small group who won’t draw attention while operating in the Periphery,” she pointed out, “with a fresh paint job on the Galloway, and a registry under a different company name, it’s highly unlikely that they’ll be tied to anything that happened in the Sphere either.

“No flags should get raised if word of anything they do manages to make its way to ComSpark somehow,” she added, “and they’re actually dyed-in-the-C-bit mercenaries, so they won’t stand out while looking around for Victoria. Plus…” the purple alicorn hesitated again, biting her lip. Flurry Heart definitely wasn’t going to like this next part either, “...Slipshod―the changeling―will need to come with us. He knows how to contact Victoria.”

Flurry Heart glowered down at her aunt, “...the changeling is your ‘intel source’?” Twilight winced, but nodded. The pink princess snorted in abject disgust, “unbelievable. I didn’t think even you’d be that gullible. It’s frankly embarrassing.”

“He’s not lying about this; Victoria Blueblood’s alive―”

“I assume you’re basing that conclusion on the inherent trustworthiness of changelings?” Flurry Heart sneered.

“Not all changelings are bad!” Twilight shot back, waving her wing in Spike’s direction, “Thorax risked everything to help us, multiple times! Slipshod wants to help us.”

“Why?” the younger alicorn demanded flatly, “what could it possibly stand to gain from turning on Chrysalis? What advantage does it get from helping us?”

Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but paused. She had been about to insist that Slipshod was doing this because it was the ‘right thing’ to do, but that would have been a lie, and she knew it. Flurry Heart would have known it too. That was the reason that Twilight would have liked Slipshod to have for helping them. But it wasn’t. He didn’t care about the greater good of the galaxy any more than Squelch did. For the changeling, it was a purely personal matter.

Though, at least maybe in that regard, it was one that Flurry Heart could appreciate, “because Chrysalis wronged him,” Twilight finally said, deflating slightly at the less-than-philanthropic motivation. Though she noticed that it did at least evoke a spark of interest in the other alicorn, “by the time he was put into the field, his cover identity had become useless to Chrysalis. He was pushed aside and left for dead. He feels cheated by the other changelings.

“He wants to see Chrysalis suffer. To lose everything, the same way that he did. That’s why he’s helping us,” it galled Twilight that one of her staunchest supporters and advocates since waking up in the present had such vapid and shallow motivations. Slipshod wasn’t a Thorax by any stretch of the imagination.

But he was all she had.

The League-in-Exile’s princess massaged her chin as she mulled over the purple alicorn’s words. Twilight took it as a good sign that they even seemed to be getting genuine consideration at all, and hadn’t been dismissed out of hoof. Maybe it was for the best that Slipshod’s motives were so banal and relatable after all. A revenge-minded changeling seemed to be more palatable than an altruistic one. Though Twilight found herself feeling more than a little despondent at the thought of even her closest remaining friends and family not being willing to believe in the inherent good in others.

How long would it take to get the galaxy right again?

...Could it really even be done a second time, even with an eternity to work with?

The possibility of a negative response to that musing was an incredibly unsettling thought.

“You want me to allow Sphere mercenaries, along with a known changeling spy, back within HyperSpark range of the Harmony Sphere’s interstellar comm network?” Flurry Heart asked in a tone that was unsettling in its calmness. Almost to the point where it sounded like she was taking some measure of pleasure in posing the question to Twilight, “creatures who know more than enough about the Clans to do irreparable harm to our plans, and possibly forever seal the fate of every creature in the galaxy, cementing changeling control over all creatures for all eternity?

“Knowing full well that, if you slip up, and if we’re undone, that there is no second attempt. You will have given Chrysalis the ultimate victory that she has been craving. No act of contrition from you at that point could possibly hope to make amends for that level of catastrophe.

“Debatably, you would be the greatest villain that the galaxy has, or ever will know,” Flurry Heart held her aunt’s gaze for several long, pointed, seconds, “are you willing to commit to that?”

To say that Twilight had complete faith in her choice would have been a lie. The full weight of the consequences if she was wrong about Slipshod, or the members of the Steel Coursers, were not lost on her. That being said, while the penalties for failure were horrific in the extreme, the advantages offered couldn’t be overlooked. A direct, uncontested path right to Chrysalis. They could end the bulk of the changeling threat in a single battle once Victoria was made Archon without having to involve hardly any of the rest of the Sphere. Billions of lives could be saved.

Yet, if she was wrong, trillions would suffer.

Flurry Heart was right: there would be no way for Twilight to make up for that failure if things went wrong. There was every possibility that the sheer weight of that level of suffering would crush her very soul into dust―and even then she would be getting off lightly.

But if they pulled it off…

“I am,” the purple alicorn finally said, “and I am making it the condition of my abdication,” she added, noting that the sadistic mirth dancing behind Flurry Heart’s eyes as she’d been laying out the full breadth of her aunt’s gamble evaporated almost instantly, “I get the Steel Coursers, Slipshod, and Cinder, to help me look for Victoria Blueblood,” she glanced over at Spike, “as well as the full support of Timberwolf’s Dragoons to help install her as Archon once we locate her,” Twilight focused once more on Flurry Heart, her face set in firm lines as she made her demands, “give me that, and I’ll grant you the throne; with the understanding that my plan has your full endorsement for as long as it proves viable.”

The pink alicorn’s face was marred by a sneer as she glared hard at Twilight’s determined expression, “or, what? You’ll insist on ascending? You know as well as I do that the Dragon Clans won’t accept you for long, especially if you start preaching the real Elements at them. They’ve already embraced the revised versions that those two massaged for them,” she waved in wing at the Dragon Lord and her consort, who both shared an unhappy look. Spike flashed an apologetic glance in Twilight’s direction.

While she’d been disheartened to learn that the Elements of Harmony as she’d known them no longer existed, she did understand that altering their message had been done in an attempt to keep the League-in-Exile from fracturing completely. Without the revised Elements, who was to say what the dragons would be up to now, left to their own devices and driven only by their ancient thirst for power and personal glory.

Teaching a ‘variation’ of the Elements of Harmony to the current generation would certainly have to be easier than working from scratch all over again. Maybe in a generation or two Twilight would be able to undo the damage that had been caused to the Clans.

However, Flurry Heart was right that trying to change too much too fast might end up fracturing everything. Assuming the throne and insisting on restoring the old values of Friendship and Harmony would certainly mean postponing the invasion for decades, at the least. More likely another century. In that time, a lot of creatures would suffer though. But…

“If that’s the only way that I’ll get a shot at doing this with as little bloodshed as possible, then I’ll risk it,” Twilight insisted, “I would rather you help me though. Please. Work with me, Flurry Heart. Help me save your mother and the others.

“Help me save everycreature.”

For a moment, Twilight was afraid that she’d pushed too hard. At the mention of Cadance, the pink mare’s features darkened, her eyes going cold. Flurry Heart still blamed her aunt for what had happened on Equus. However, it seemed that her sense of reason eventually prevailed, because the younger alicorn’s demeanor softened and she finally nodded, “very well. Give me the throne, and you’ll have your chance to try this new plan of yours.

“I’ll give you what time I can, but it’s ultimately up to Smolder and her allies if things kick off prematurely,” she warned, sharing a knowing look with the purple mare.

“I understand. Thank you. We can perform the coronation whenever you’re ready,” she looked over at Ember, “and I’d appreciate it if you could arrange for a meeting between myself and the Dragon Clans that are causing you the most trouble.”

“I shouldn’t have any trouble getting them to do that much, at least,” the turquoise dragoness said in a rueful tone, “I sure doubt you could make the situation much worse!”

Twilight winced. If there was one thing that she was learning about how the galaxy tended to operate these days, it was that it was always a bad idea to tempt fate...

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