The crew of the Zathura soon learned that there was both more―and a lot less―to their surroundings than any of them could have possibly fathomed.

A few dozen kilometers away from their arrival point sat one of the largest space stations that Slipshod had ever seen―and he’d been aboard the Equus Royal Dockyards; the only orbital structure left in the Harmony Sphere capable of constructing WarShips. This station was not designed for capital ship construction though, the changeling realized immediately. It’s primary function seemed to be habitation, given the large and expansive saucer segments that the changeling could see.

They were unlike the features of any station that Slipshod could imagine seeing in the Harmony Sphere. The constant threat of combat looming over nearly every star system made the prospect of building such vulnerable platforms that housed tens of thousands of potential victims terrifying. Once, long ago, such stations had been relatively commonplace though, as Twilight had explained it to him upon catching sight of the station. During the first few centuries of exploration and especially colonization, there had been a need for orbital habitations that would support the terraforming crews.

As the demand for more worlds to inhabit waned, and the threat of warfare started rearing its ugly head five hundred years ago, such stations began to vanish. Either through destruction or so that they could be repurposed for more militant applications. Today, no known examples of a true orbital habitat existed.

Havoc Station was the last of its kind.

Interestingly enough, according to General Mayhem, it was actually even among the first of its kind, as well. That fact had caught even Twilight Sparkle off guard when it was first mentioned to her. Almost as much as she had been caught off guard by the state of the station itself once she stepped aboard.

If any of them had thought that the eccentricities of the Disciples ended with their slapdash approach to clothing, they’d have been frightfully wrong. If anything, dressing like they were all just about to attend a rave was the least shocking aspect of their lives. The station itself, while appearing completely unremarkable from the outside, save for its novel purpose, was a veritable madhouse on the inside!

Stairs that went nowhere. No two lights giving off the same color. Section and room identifier paradigms changing from one corridor to the next. Specific lengths of hallway that mandated alternative styles of conveyance―Slipshod had never once had to skip in his life! It was all completely ludicrous.

Yet, as they soon discovered during their luncheon with the general, it was also completely essential.

“This isn’t actually Discord’s realm...is it?” Twilight asked, managing to maintain an impossibly straight face as a teapot enveloped in the general’s cyan magic poured out a stream of liquid into Twilight’s outstretched cup. Of course, since the alicorn’s cup―like all of their cups―had no bottom, the tea merely splattered messily to the floor...and the tub which had apparently been placed there specifically to collect the wasted tea.

Slipshod was feeling his eye begin to twitch as he fought back his exasperation. He had actually been looking forward to getting to drink some of that tea…

The fuchsia mare ceased her pour for the princess―apparently having decided that she’d wasted enough tea on the spectacle―and proceeded to offer some to her other guests. Squelch and Slipshod both declined. Colonel Citron politely indicated that he would take a cup, and did not seem to react as more of the liquid was poured through his poorly-fashioned bottomless cup. The unicorn mare then set down the teapot and brushed a lock of her sunflower yellow mane away from its neatly tucked appearance so that the strands dropped in front of her baby blue eyes. She shook her head, “No, Your Highness. This is not Discord’s realm. Though it is similar.

“Havoc is...something of a ‘family estate’,” she said, smirking at the purple princess, “But it does function under many of the same rules.”

“Hence the...” Twilight waved her wing at the...everything that didn’t seem to make any sense to the pair of mercenaries.

“Yes.”

Impossibly, that answer actually seemed to satisfy the alicorn. Squelch saved him the trouble of having to speak out of turn by asking what the two of them were talking about, and why they weren’t actually going to be able to drink anything during the meeting.

Twilight was about to answer, when she seemed to think better of it, and deferred instead to their host. The pink unicorn nodded and looked over at the mercenaries. Slipshod was briefly distracted when he saw Citron take an actual bite out of his teacup and start to chew on it! Initially horrified at what that had to be doing to the stallion’s mouth, the changeling was drawn up short by the feelings of pleasure he was picking up. Not unlike how somepony felt while eating sweets. Tentatively, Slipshod brought his own teacup to the lips of his earth pony disguise and touched it with his tongue.

His eyes widened. It tasted like it was coated in sugar!

The purple alicorn began to gnaw on her own teacup. It was made of sugar, the stallion realized.

“Discord’s realm―and by extension, Havoc―are...pocket dimensions. They exist outside reality as most know it, sustained by a very specific kind of magic: chaos magic,” the unicorn general explained, “this magic cannot be directly projected by ponies, or most other mortal creatures. However, it can be simulated through nonsensical acts.”

“Such as dressing strangely and mislabeling room numbers?” Squelch raised an unconvinced eyebrow, but the general merely smiled and nodded.

“Among other things,” she confirmed.

The sage mare was about to ask another question when she found herself interrupted by the loud sound of Slipshod chewing on his teacup. She flashed him an incredulous glare, but the changeling could only shrug helplessly. It was actually even tea flavored! The stallion decided that he could live with certain varieties of chaos. Navigating the station was going to be a nightmare for some time though. He didn’t even recognize some of the alphabets and numbering systems that were being used.

“And the ship?” Twilight inquired this time, “The Maelstrom. Don’t tell me that was inherited.”

“In a manner of speaking,” Mayhem nodded, “After he vanished, Discord’s second-in-command sought to take the vessel someplace safe. It had a Chaotic Drive, but he was unable to utilize it without the draconequus present.

“With no knowledge of where General Discord had gone to, he did the next best thing: he sought out one of his descendants.”

Slipshod balked, nearly spitting out his teacup, “Discord had children?!”

“He’s been married a dozen times or more,” Twilight smirked, “the Spirit of Chaos is many things, but celibate isn’t one of them.”

“Besides, what brings more chaos into our lives than foals?” the general chuckled.

“One of the reasons I nipped that problem in the bud,” Squelch muttered from beside the changeling.

“All told,” the fuchsia unicorn mare continued, “by now there is likely a double-digit percentage of the galactic population that can trace their lineage back to Discord in some way.

“However, that isn’t enough to be able to successfully navigate the Maelstrom. A creature must also possess a hint of his power,” she exchanged glances with the alicorn princess, flashing a wry smirk, “as one might expect, a ‘chaotic nature’ does not conform to most conventional understandings of paternity. As best we can tell, there is only ever one being in the galaxy that inherits it; and only after the current holder has passed away.”

“Like a reincarnation,” Twilight concluded, receiving and acknowledging nod from the general, “Because if there was more than one being with that power, then it risked becoming perceived as ‘normal’.”

“Exactly. Only a creature, descended from Discord, and who has inherited that ‘spirit’, can successfully utilize the Maelstrom’s Chaotic Drive. Otherwise it functions like any other WarShip with a standard Jump Drive, and is incapable of reaching Havoc.”

Twilight Sparkle peered intently at the other mare now, “And that’s you, isn’t it? You’re his descendant.”

General Mayhem nodded slowly, her smile wan, “One of many who live here,” she confirmed, along with a gesture towards Citron, who in turn smiled and nodded, “I just happened to be the unlucky one this time around.”

“‘Unlucky’? How so?” The alicorn seemed genuinely curious as to why the unicorn might feel that way. So was Slipshod, truth be told. It had sounded like being such a creature was extremely useful.

The general let out an exhausted sigh, leaning back in her chair and nibbling upon the brim of her own teacup finally, “Have you ever wondered what the secret was to ‘pure chaos’, Your Highness?” she began, “As in: What it would take to truly be capable of performing acts that were genuinely nonsensical and unexpected?”

“Great power,” the alicorn replied quickly and easily, “Discord was one of the most powerful beings to ever exist. Only a hoofful or artifacts were even capable of containing his magic. By being able to do anything and everything that he wanted, he was always able to interfere in ways that could never be stopped.”

However, the other mare had started shaking her head almost immediately upon hearing the answer, “No, Your Highness. It’s not power. Having power helps, but it’s not the true secret to his chaotic nature.

“To be capable of always doing the unexpected first requires that one know what is expected. At all times, and in all places. It requires a complete and total understanding of the entirety of everything. Everything that is, everything that was...and everything that will be.”

Twilight blinked in shock. Slipshod and Squelch were sitting up more erect in their seats as well, not entirely certain if they had understood the mare correctly. It was the alicorn who spoke though, “You...claim to be able to see the future?”

“If only it was as straightforward as that,” the general scoffed ruefully, “I might be able to stomach such overt knowledge more easily,” she paused for a moment, then allowed her teacup to plunge into the basin of discarded tea, where it began to dissolve amid the now lukewarm liquid, “...Or maybe it would make things more unbearable.

“It’s hard to know for sure,” Mayhem sighed sadly.

The pink mare looked back up at the princess, “A mortal mind is incapable of processing and retaining such vast quantities of knowledge consciously,” she informed the alicorn, tapping her temple with a hoof, “Everything is up here, but…” she shook her head, “I can’t actively reference any of it like it’s an almanac or anything.

“Instead, that innate knowledge of the future...manifests itself through my subconscious. I get...feelings.”

“What kind of feelings, exactly?” Squelch inquired. Meanwhile, Twilight looked on with growing bemusement, her eyes glazed over as if lost in thought. Almost like she even already knew the answer that was about to be provided.

General Mayhem turned her blue eyes to the sage green unicorn, “Feelings like the tingling on my tongue that tells me your companion,” she turned to Slipshod, “is a changeling.”

This time, the stallion did spit up his teacup.

The changeling felt his employer tense inwardly, but she maintained her calm exterior, “Did your tongue really tell you that, or was it your colonel?” She asked, skeptically.

“When was Colonel Citron supposed to have informed me about anything that occurred during his mission?” General Mayhem asked, her expression creased with an amused little smile, “he was on your ship, and in your custody, until the four of you arrived in this room.”

That was true enough, Slipshod realized. There would have been no way for the yellow earth pony stallion to get any news to his commanding officer prior to entering this room. Squelch seemed to realize that too, though her features suggested that she still wasn’t completely sold on the idea that this mare simply ‘knew’ the future. After all, the sage mare perfectly capable of making reliably accurate predictions about things that would happen in the galaxy as well. That was how she had always guaranteed their small company employment by making sure that they were in systems that would imminently be posting relevant jobs for them.

However, Squelch made those predictions of hers by scouring news articles and economics reports. Information that was usually freely available to everypony, but that few bothered to corroborate with additional sources that would allow them to make deductions about where certain events were inevitably headed. Stock buybacks, quarterly growth projections, and a rise in booking fees for local JumpShip transports were individual things that most ponies would discount out of hoof. But, when taken together, it indicated that a company was expecting to see a lot more business in the future...which meant that a rival would need to be seeing less.

In the Harmony Sphere, the quickest and easiest way to slow down a rival’s business was by taking out a contract on their infrastructure. At that point, Squelch just needed to decide if she could get more money signing on with the aggressor early on, or by simply being on hoof when the victim suddenly found themselves in need of mercenaries to protect their facilities, and would likely be paying a premium to get their hooves on whatever ‘Steeds they could.

If she were actually able to predict the future, it would save her an exceptional amount of reading…

Meanwhile, Twilight appeared to be quite willing to accept Mayhem’s claim at face value, “That’s how you were able to arrive exactly when we needed you to be there.”

“Tingly hoof,” the general nodded, shaking her left fetlock in the air. She then looked back at the pair of mercenaries, “The lack of a spasm in my right flank also lets me know that, even though he’s a changeling, he’s not a threat,” Slipshod had wondered why this mare was taking her knowledge of his changeling status rather well.

“Pinkie Sense,” Twilight blurted with an amused snort, “You have Pinkie Sense!”

This statement earned the alicorn a confused glance from Mayhem, while maintaining her raised hoof, “I mean...I don’t have pinkies, so that doesn’t sound like the most accurate way to describe it―”

“Nonono, ‘eye-ee’; not ‘why’,” the purple mare hastily corrected, “Pinkie Pie was a good friend of mine, a long time ago,” Slipshod noted the brief pang of long-numbed loss as she uttered the name, “She had an ability much like yours: she was able to make accurate predictions about the future based on subtle cues from her body. I spent weeks searching for a causal mechanism, but to no avail,” she gave a rueful snort, “I just chalked it up to ‘Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie’.

“It never occurred to me that there could have been some sort of link between her and Discord,” Twilight began rubbing her chin, “Though, looking back on it now...that actually explains a few things,” she frowned, “It also raises a lot more questions too.”

“You’re about to get very angry at somepony,” General Mayhem remarked softly before amending her statement, “well, somedraconequus anyway.”

Twilight very well might not have even heard the other unicorn. Her features were mired in thought as her mind began to quickly process the new information that she’d just been given, “Discord’s always been a smug bastard, but I figured it was because of how powerful he was. But if the secret to being perfectly chaotic is being perfectly aware of everything that’s going to happen―”

Slipshod felt the precise moment that something broke within the alicorn. It wasn’t rage, precisely. Almost something beyond it, but combined with the realization that she was powerless to do anything to resolve it. A ‘resigned fury’, perhaps, “...He knew,” she said in a breathless near-whisper, “Discord knew! He knew about Chrysalis and Tirek and Cozy Glow! He knew about what was about to happen!

“That’s why he left his flagship behind when he left,” the purple mare continued. She was out of her seat, storming around the general’s office, “Why he built this station, why he gave your ancestor this pocket dimension that can only be reached with his magic: he knew the war was coming, and he was giving you a place that Chrysalis couldn’t reach so that you’d all be safe! I bet he even told you exactly how to find the next incarnation that would have the power to get here,” Mayhem was nodding, but Twilight wasn’t paying her any attention yet.

“That’s why he insisted his forces supplement my usual guard detail during the summit...he knew…” Twilight turned to the general now, glaring at the unicorn as though the mare had had a hoof in the machinations of her many-times-great grandsire, “So why didn’t he warn me?! We could have stopped all of this before it even began!”

General Mayhem didn’t know the answer to those questions of course. If Discord had explained his motives to anycreature, they’d died many centuries ago without spreading it. All that the unicorn commander could do was shrug helplessly, “I doubt anypony can even begin to explain why Discord does anything. I will, however, tell you this: Knowing the future doesn’t mean you can control it. Sometimes, even when you know that horrible things are going to happen, and you know that you could stop them...you let them happen anyway.”

The fuchsia mare’s features became drawn and pained. She was looking over at Colonel Citron, who was wearing an equally subdued expression, “You let them happen, because you also know that, if you do, then a greater good will come out of them.”

“You knew Captain Hollandaise wasn’t going to be coming back,” Squelch said. It wasn’t an accusation; merely an observation.

Mayhem nodded, bowing her head slightly, “I know when I’m seeing a pony for the last time,” she confirmed, “and I felt that way when Holly left my office after receiving her mission brief for Kiso.

“I also knew that I would be seeing Colonel Citron again,” she went on, “which meant the mission wasn’t completely doomed. I also got the sense that something important would result from the mission. Not precisely what that something was; but that it was important.

“...I trusted that it was important enough to be worth Holly’s life, and the lives of her crew. I don’t know if that was the ‘right’ call; but it was the one I made,” she said, letting out a ragged breath. She schooled her features back into an uneasy smile, “making irrational decisions is a hallmark of Havoc, after all!” Slipshod couldn’t sense the slightest bit of mirth behind the unicorn’s smile. Just grief.

Twilight was still working through those new revelations of hers though. The changeling both deeply desired to be present for her next encounter with the Spirit of Chaos so that he could bear witness to her retribution; but also didn’t want to be anywhere near the star cluster where it occurred, lest he be caught up in the collateral damage when she unleashed her fury upon the draconequus. For his part, Slipshod found himself wondering how he’d have performed in the general’s position. He did know what he’d have done a year ago: sacrificed whomever he needed to without a second thought. Ponies had been tools to employ in order to get what he wanted or needed.

Friends, on the other hoof…

He was hard-pressed to imagine what benefit he could receive that would make him actually consider sacrificing Squelch. The thing he wanted most in life was seeing Queen Chrysalis lose all of her power and control. That thought had been the only thing sustaining him for years. Yet, if he was told that he could achieve that goal by sacrificing Squelch and the others...he wasn’t convinced he’d go through with it. He might be able to settle with continuing to let her ravage the galaxy in exchange for his personal happiness.

Which was probably a reason that the stallion wouldn’t make a good general, he decided.

“Which does bring us to one of the purposes of this meeting,” General Mayhem said, attempting to redirect the alicorn mare’s thoughts, “I’m assuming that you didn’t run into Colonel Citron by chance on Kiso?”

“No,” Twilight replied, still sounding more than a little frustrated, “No, we didn’t,” she waved a hoof in Squelch’s direction, a clear sign that she didn’t feel like she was in the right state of mind to have a rational discussion, and so was going to leave things to the sage unicorn for the moment.

Taking her cue, the mercenary commander straightened herself up in her seat and turned towards the Disciple general, who was looking at the other mare expectantly―almost hopefully. She very much wanted her sacrifice of the DropShip and its crew to prove worthwhile, “You’re aware of the Clan’s invasion of the Harmony Sphere,” this was a statement. After the many weeks that the invasions had been going on for now, if Mayhem didn’t know about it by now, she’d be a pretty useless commanding officer. The pink unicorn nodded as Squelch went on, “And are hopefully aware that this was not the existing plan that was in the works?”

This was less certain to be known to the Disciples, as nopony here could be sure how much information had been passed to them. From what Slipshod understood, Timberjack and his Timberwolf’s Dragoons were supposed to be the intermediaries between the Disciples and the League-in-Exile. Timberjack hadn’t been informed about Twilight’s new plan for securing a clear invasion corridor to Equus until they’d made contact with him in the Sphere. There was no way of knowing how much of the new plan had been shared with the Disciples, as it seemed to the changeling as though very little of the new plan would impact any of their normal operations.

“It does seem to be a much smaller operation than I was led to believe was taking place,” the general acknowledged, frowning rather deeply now, “It’s also more spread out and advancing more slowly than I thought would be the case.

“I take it that the plan has changed?” The pink mare looked between Squelch and the alicorn, both of whom were nodding with differing levels of annoyance. Having felt more personally betrayed by both Flurry Heart and the dragons, Twilight was feeling much more put off than Squelch was. The sage unicorn was mostly annoyed that she would have a much more difficult time getting her hooves on her promised payday than anything else. Though there was some mild aggravation at having such a well-conceived invasion strategy thrown out the window in favor of….well, whatever exactly it was that the Clans were trying to accomplish.

Because they certainly weren’t going to make it all the way to Equus. Slipshod didn’t have to be any sort of experienced campaign strategist to recognize that much.

“Apparently,” Squelch muttered bitterly, “And it’s one that’s doomed to fail unless something drastic changes in the next few months.”

General Mayhem exchanged a brief look with her subordinate, “That was our assessment as well. The changelings are being given too much time to coordinate a response. The Clans are going to be too bogged down trying to hold what they take to have the forces to continue pushing towards Faust in less than a year. Their lines are too broad.

“Is there something that Princess Flurry Heart thinks we can do to help?” It was clear from both her dour expression and the edge in her tone that the general was not looking forward to the prospect of having to find some way to use her guerilla fighters to help with the invasion in a more direct capacity. The nature of their operations thus far had necessitated them being kept deliberately undersupplied in terms of effective front line combat equipment. Meaning that there was honestly little that her ponies could do. Not without taking absurdly high losses, at any rate.

“Not the princess, no,” Squelch confirmed, shaking her head. She hesitated briefly on the next bit, knowing that―however unpalatable more directly helping the Clans’ invasions might be―the general probably wasn’t going to appreciate the first part of the plan they’d come up with, “...And not ‘helping’ either. At least, not the Clans.”

The general raised an intrigued eyebrow as the sage mare continued her pitch, “We think we know a way to turn the galaxy against Chrysalis, but first we’re going to need them to unite against―and successfully push back―the Dragon Clans,” Squelch pressed on, despite the surprised reactions of the Disciple officers in the room, as they both sat up a little more erect in their seats, “That much probably won’t take a lot of effort from you guys. Chrysalis is basically going to have to get the Great Houses to all work together on her own anyway.

“What we’re going to need your help with, is taking down the entire HyperSpark Generator Circuit―both circuits. The public one, and the secret one that the changelings use,” Squelch stressed pointedly, “All galactic communication needs to be disrupted as thoroughly as possible.”

Slipshod suspected that General Mayhem didn’t have an odd body tick that alerted her to such stupendously shocking revelations like that one, given how low her chin was hanging. It took the fuchsia unicorn several long seconds to finally find her voice again, “...You want to shut down the whole Sphere?! That’ll collapse whole system economies! The Disciples are villainized by ComSpark enough as it is; being responsible for something like that will push us well past ‘fanatic terrorists’ into―”

“We plan to hang the blame solely on ComSpark for this one,” Squelch assured her, halting the other unicorn’s protests and once more rendering her momentarily mute.

Realization began to dawn on the Disciple commander, and a tentative smile began to worm its way back across her lips, “...They’ll be out for blood,” she murmured, looking around at the others, “The Great Houses would all revolt.”

Squelch was nodding, “Exactly. They’ll take those armies that Chrysalis just spent months helping them build to turn back the Clans, and they’ll descend on Equus themselves looking for Queen Twilight’s head.”

“Which, by the way,” the purple alicorn interjected, scowling at the others, “is still the part of this plan I don’t much care for.”

General Mayhem was far too preoccupied contemplating the probable result of the proposal that had just been presented to her to hear Twilight’s reservation, and Slipshod could sense that the plan appealed to her. If it worked as intended, it would simultaneously solve the problem of uniting the fractured Harmony Sphere and deposing Chrysalis. Whereas the previous plan of using the Clans to invade Equus really addressed the latter, leaving the prospect of exactly how they were supposed to go about getting the Successor States on board with a new League unaddressed.

Few things forged bonds of comradery than facing a common foe. Such an alliance would not necessarily, in and of itself, likely be enough to keep the factions of the galaxy together forever, but it would at least create a foundation that could be built on for generations to come. It also didn’t quite address how the various smaller factions scattered out in the Periphery would be reintegrated, but that was hardly as immediate a concern as the changelings were. If they succeeded, Twilight had eons to figure out how to get the griffons, zebras, minotaurs, and the like, to ‘return to the fold’, as it were.

“I’m still not sure how we’re supposed to be able to help with this new plan of yours,” Mayhem admitted, “sabotaging the changelings’ hidden arrays is one thing. But the Primary Circuit arrays are better protected than most military strongholds,” the unicorn pointed out.

She wasn’t wrong either. The only places in the galaxy that might be better defended than a ComSpark HSG were the capital palace complexes of the ruling families of the Successor States. Taking on such places would take upwards of a company of heavy and assault-class BattleSteeds. At a minimum. Resources that neither the Disciples, or the Irregulars, had access to anymore.

“There’s also no way we could take out the entire network,” the fuchsia unicorn went on, leaning back in her seat with a wan smile as she continued to list off the many faults in Squelch’s proposal, “the Maelstrom is the only vessel in the galaxy with a Chaos Drive and, other than it being able to enter and leave Havoc, it functions with pretty much the same limitations of any other standard jump drive. To include the week-long recharge time.

“It’s fitted with a ley-spark battery that lets it retain enough charge to make two jumps back-to-back, but it takes two weeks to build up enough charge to make those two jumps. We go in, undock a DropShip, and jump out again less than a minute later. We swing back two weeks later to pick up the team. From there, it’s another two weeks before we can launch the next operation.

“At best, we could take out one HSG every month,” the pink mare said with a dismissive sigh, “it would take us centuries to take out all the public and secret arrays. More than enough time for ComSpark to rebuild what we’re destroying almost as quickly as we’re destroying them.”

“We don’t need to destroy them,” Twilight interjected, once more drawing an intrigued look from the general, “I can create a virus that will take the whole network out of action all at once.”

“You can?”

The purple alicorn flashed a wry smirk, “I was part of their creation,” she reminded the Disciple commander, “I know everything there is to know about how they work, and how to exploit their vulnerabilities.”

“So then what you need from us is to get you into one of the arrays so that you can upload the virus?” Mayhem surmised with renewed interest. Attacking one HSG certainly held a lot more appeal to her than trying to destroy them all. Especially if it meant that launching attacks on the more well defended Primary Circuit facilities wasn’t something that would need to be done.

This time there was some brief hesitation, and not just from Twilight either. Slipshod was feeling uneasy as well. The failure of the raid on Colton was still very much a fresh wound for the changeling stallion. They’d still yet to replace their losses from that fiasco. To say that the prospect of doing something similar wasn’t sitting well with him would have been an understatement.

While the Disciples were obviously more experienced dealing with such facilities, their typical goal was also usually to destroy them in order to disrupt the ability for Chrysalis’ agents to communicate and coordinate with each other. To do what their plan required, an HSG would need to be taken in tact. Which, as the Irregulars had recently learned, was not a task that was to be taken lightly.

The two of them and Squelch all exchanged glances before the sage unicorn looked back at the general, “...This is too important to trust to a single assault,” she explained, “Copies of the virus can be made and distributed to multiple teams,” Mayhem nodded in agreement with the precaution.

“However,” Twilight stressed, “those teams will all have to conduct simultaneous strikes,” upon seeing the general frown and prepare to object, the alicorn continued, “if the first team fails, and the changelings get hold of that virus, they might be able to engineer a work-around. If that happens, a second attempt might not work; and I’ll have no way of knowing what changes they’ll have made to the software once they’ve been shown how it can be exploited.

“At the moment, we’re already operating under the presumption that they wouldn’t have messed with it in order to keep themselves from accidentally breaking a system they don’t know anything about,” the purple mare went on, “they also don’t have any reason to suspect that there are flaws with it. The moment they see that virus, they’ll be on alert.

“We have to succeed before they have time to figure out what we’re trying to do, which means we can’t give them time to react to whatever they learn from failed attacks.”

Mayhem was scowling again, “And I already told you: the best I can do in one attack every month. One every two weeks if I make them suicide runs,” her bitter tone suggested that she was very loath to resort to such a thing.

“I assume that that timetable is based on the Maelstrom dropping off teams directly,” Twilight said, and received a nod from the general, “That doesn’t have to be our only option,” the alicorn pointed out, “Multiple teams can be deployed beyond Chrysalis’ sight and make their way to their targets on their own.”

“The only place that she doesn’t have eyes is the Periphery,” Mayhem stated, which wasn’t a point of dispute, “Which isn’t a huge deal,” she admitted, “But we only have three other DropShips in Havoc. Four counting yours,” she nodded at Squelch, “Is four teams going to be enough?”

Twilight was frowning now, “I’d rather have dozens,” she admitted, “This attack is just too important, and the odds of failing to take HSGs intact is pretty high…”

“I have the personnel to build that many teams; I just don’t have the DropShips to carry them,” General Mayhem said.

“Buying them would be the easiest way to go about it,” Squelch suggested, though her tone indicated that there was a ‘but’ coming, “But,” there it was, “there’s no way that ComSpark isn’t going to know somethings up if they see us buying enough DropShips to transport a whole army. Going to a Periphery power would keep things under the table, but there aren’t any of them with that many spare DropShips they’d be willing to part with. Certainly not anything large enough for our purposes. We won’t be able to do this above-board,” she concluded.

“Stealing wouldn’t go over any better,” Slipshod observed, “ComSpark would be alerted to that many huge thefts in the Sphere. Something on that scale in the Periphery would also become big enough news that it’d almost certainly make its way to Chrysalis’ agents anyway.”

“So, basically we need a source of DropShips that aren’t on any Harmony Sphere register, and that also won’t be missed by their former owners,” Mayhem surmised in a wry tone dripping with sarcasm, “Shall I spread my flanks and reach really deep; or are one of you going to do the honors?”

“That won’t quite be necessary, general,” the purple alicorn said, not sounding like she was entirely appreciative of the sarcasm, “I may have an idea of where we can get our hooves on them. However, there’s a zebra that I’ll want to talk with first to see if he can give me any insights.

“I’d also like to see all of the intelligence that you or the Clans have acquired on a group called: The Red Reivers…”

Many hours later, Slipshod had firmly concluded that while Havoc Station was a fascinating place to visit, he could absolutely not live here. It was simply far more trouble than it was worth to even try and navigate his way around the place. He might have been able to live with the haphazard way that rooms and corridors were labeled, as it was simply a matter of just coming up with his own method of tracking where he was and needed to go. However, it turned out that it wasn’t quite that simple. Whether it was part of the nature of this pocket dimension, or something magical about the construction of the station itself, it turned out that the pathways through the station didn’t remain entirely consistent.

Two hours after locating a washroom just two intersections from his quarters, the changeling had returned to find that it was now a lounge. According to one of the Disciples there, the washroom was only present during prime hours on days of the month which correspond with Fillynacci’s Sequence. Otherwise he had to go in the opposite direction to find it; but even then it would only be there so long as he moontrotted at least half the way.

Still skeptical, Slipshod tested this advice. Sure enough―inexplicably―if he managed to moontrot half the distance or more, the indicated door opened up to reveal a washroom. However, if he failed to go half the distance by so much as a centimeter, the door led to a janitorial closet.

To test his sanity, the stallion had, at one point, returned to the Zathura in order to survey the station from the bridge viewports. From there, he mapped out the station’s observed layout, to include the approximate location of the temporary quarters that he’d been assigned on the station. Infuriatingly, his ‘map’ didn’t last him past the airlock, as he immediately entered into a completely different part of the station than he had been in before boarding the Zathura!

Yet, somehow―and quite impossibly―he was able to find his assigned temporary accommodations the same distance from that airlock. So long as he followed the ‘directions’ on how to reach them, that was. Apparently, it didn’t matter where he started from on the station, so long as he made the turns and used the prescribed methods of conveyance indicated to him by General Mayhem, he would always end up at his quarters.

It turned out that anypony could get anywhere from any starting point by following a brief sequence of directions. No matter where they started from, or to where they were headed. Upon receiving this revelation, Twilight had become instantly enamored with the concept, and had quickly deduced that the only ‘static’ part of the station was a small series of corridors, and that every ‘door’ was actually a portal which would transport ponies to a specified area of the station. What area that was specifically depended upon the ‘ritual’ that was performed by the pony in question immediately before opening the door.

The concept of disregarding where he ‘was’ as being irrelevant to where he was going took quite a bit of getting used to, and Slipshod fully expected that he was going to be spending at least the next few days wandering into janitorial closets before he got used to the idea. To say nothing about getting used to his quarters…

A door chime from behind him drew the changeling’s attention away from contemplating how exactly he was supposed to adjust to living on the station during their stay. Unfortunately, remaining on the DropShip wasn’t an option, as most of its own systems had been powered down in the interests of conserving fuel. It turned out that there wasn’t an overabundance of fuel in Havoc, and it had to be ‘imported’ from normal space.

Slipshod opened the door, and was a little surprised to find a sage green unicorn mare standing there. Mostly he was surprised because he realized that Squelch couldn’t have just ‘happened by’ his quarters. That wasn’t how things worked when traveling through the station after all. She had to have deliberately performed the ‘ritual’ to arrive at his door.

“Can I sleep with you?”

Slipshod’s eyebrow shot up in stark surprise at about the same moment that Squelch seemed to realize what she had said. The unicorn’s blush spread so far across her face that the changeling briefly wondered if she was going to manage to shift the hue of her entire body. She hastily blurted out an amendment to her―unintentionally―suggestive statement before the stallion could comment, “Can I sleep in your quarters,” she stressed haggardly, “with you―not ‘with you’ with you,” came another flustered correction, “just in the same general...space, that is your quarters...platonically.”

The changeling did his best to retain an impassive expression, he truly did. However, it was difficult to remain genuinely stoic in the face of such roiling waves of embarrassment coming off of the mare. At least he managed not to outright descend into laughter, so it was something of a victory in that respect. He spared her dignity that much, at least, “...Can I ask why? Is something wrong with your quarters?”

“They’re a ball pit,” Squelch grumbled, starting to recover from her earlier flub.

“You have a ball pit?” Slipshod perked up, no longer struggling quite as hard to repress his amusement, as he now found himself with a justification for it that wasn’t centered squarely on Squelch, “that’s pretty neat. I have a―”

“They don’t ‘have’ a ball pit,” the mare corrected him in a slightly exasperated tone, “they are a ball pit. As in: the whole thing. My quarters are just a half meter deep pit...filled with apple-sized plastic balls. There is nothing else in them. No chairs, no table, no bed...just balls.”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah,” Squelch sighed, “It was fun for the first five minutes, but there’s no way I can sleep in that. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and freak out thinking I’m suffocating or something. So, I’m thinking that I can double-up with you―not in your bed!” Another furious flush of her cheeks as the mare shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, “I’ll pull in a futon or something…”

Slipshod glanced back over his shoulder into his quarters, feeling his features giving into renewed mirth once more as he surveyed his surroundings. He assumed that the unicorn mare hadn’t quite noticed what was beyond him yet, “I mean, you can get a futon if you want, but it might not be necessary…” The stallion stepped out the doorway and nodded towards the interior of his quarters.

The sage green mare blinked, “...Oh.”

“Yeah,” Slipshod sighed, rubbing idly at the back of his head as he watched Squelch take in his accommodations. Unlike his employer―apparently―the changeling did possess furniture. Quite the expansive set, considering the size of the quarters. There was a desk with a chair, a small chaise lounge, and a bed with a nightstand in the adjoining room...All―like the walls and floor―formed of inflated plastic.

“...Your quarters are a bouncy castle,” Squelch chortled, her lips ticking up in a half-smile of amusement now too.

“Yup.”

The mare looked down at the bright yellow ‘floor’ and gave it an experimental prod with her hoof, “That’s actually got pretty good give to it,” she observed, “You’re right: I probably wouldn’t need a futon. Just a blanket and a pillow,” she stepped fully into the room and proceeded to give the surface a couple of experimental ‘hops’, her smile broadening slightly. Then she seemed to remember that she had an audience and cleared her throat as she stopped jumping and allowed entropy to gradually bring her up and down motions to a gradual halt.

“So...are you okay with me crashing here?”

“Are you going to be okay with ‘crashing’ here?” The changeling replied, casting the mare a pointed look. She was once more shifting uncomfortably, finding it a little hard to meet the stallion’s gaze, “Squelch...you do remember that I know what you’re feeling right?”

The sage unicorn was glaring at him now, “So? What does that matter? You think I can’t keep my personal feelings in check?” she all but snapped at the stallion, who was regarding her with a bored expression now. Realizing how what she’d said hadn’t quite lined up with how she’d said it, Squelch grimaced, “I’m a big filly, Slip. I’m perfectly capable of staying the night in the same room as a stallion I have a history with, and being okay with it.

“So, whatever lewd little fantasies are running through that head of yours about what ‘might’ happen tonight?” She went out, narrowing her eyes at the stallion and jabbing him in the chest with her hoof, “Stow ‘em. This isn’t some two-c-bit romance novel,” Squelch snorted, making a show of stepping past the stallion further into the room as though she were already making herself at home.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Slipshod quipped, smirking at the mare as she strode awkwardly with exaggerated motions in an attempt not to be thwarted by the air-filled plastic sacks that made up the cabin’s floor as they shifted beneath her hooves. The mare shot him another glare with flushed cheeks, “what?! I said I wouldn’t dream of it!

“But, come on, Squelch,” the stallion sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Are we seriously not going to talk about this―apparently―one-hundred-percent-platonic tension going on here?” The unicorn was very pointedly not looking at him now, “I’m going to sleep in one room, you’re going to sleep in another, and neither of us gets to talk about…” perhaps it was this place finally getting the best of him, but Slipshod was hit with sudden inspiration and executed a quick transformation; which had the effect of causing the cabin’s floor to angle dramatically in his direction, much to Squelch’s audible surprise, “...the thing we’re totally pretending isn’t a thing?”

The unicorn quickly recovered from her initial shock at his sudden change in his shape and resumed glaring accusingly at the stallion―or, ‘bull’, she supposed at the moment, “Oh, ha...ha! Seriously? You’re going to pull foalish bullshit like this while chiding me for not wanting to have an ‘adult’ conversation about this hypothetical ‘us’ that you think exists? Oh yeah, I can see us having a real mature conversation…”

Slipshod rolled his eyes, and was about to respond when he was interrupted by a flash of violet light between them. Both of them stared on in startled surprise as Twilight made her entrance. The alicorn stumbled briefly as she found herself standing on much less firm ground than she had apparently been hoping for. Splayed wings helped her to adjust quickly though.

She let out an exasperated sigh, “I can’t believe this place even affects my teleportation,” the purple mare grumbled in annoyance, “I can’t just pop over to somepony’s room, I have to visualize that whole absurd ‘route’ in order to do it first,” she shook out her mane, sending two brightly colored plastic balls bouncing to the floor.

“Squelch wasn’t in her cabin...I don’t think,” the alicorn frowned, “unless that pit’s a lot deeper than I think it was―oh!” the mare cut herself off as she caught sight of the unicorn mare standing nearby, “there you are! Saves me the trouble of asking Slip where you―why is the floor so til...ted…” Twilight’s words trailed off as she finally looked ‘downslope’ and locked her gaze on the cause of the divot. The mare went silent, her eyes wide, looking between Slipshod and Squelch several times before finally leaning her head down towards the other mare.

“...Am I supposed to bring that up, or would that ruin the bit?”

Squelch facehoofed, “there’s no ‘bit’; Slip’s just being a jackass!”

“No,” the stallion insisted before enveloping himself in another burst of emerald flame. When it dissipated, a buck-tooth donkey was standing before the pair of mares, who were both struggling to retain their balance as the floor leveled out once more, “This is me being a ‘jackass’.”

Twilight cringed, her wings fidgeting, “okay, I’m pretty sure that even five hundred years later, it’s still not okay for non-donkeys to use that word…And I don’t think they have a ‘changeling exception’.”

“We can always ask Cookie…” Squelch growled, glaring at the mule.

Slipshod’s face blanched. Less than a second later he had reverted to being a changeling, “please don’t!” Honestly, it was an instinctive reaction at this point. It wasn’t like Cookie had control over his diet at the moment, or would while they were on Havoc Station. At least, he was fairly confident that was the case.

Best not to risk it...

“You’re unbelievable,” the unicorn sighed, shaking her head. She started making her way towards the door, “I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea―”

However, before the sage mare could actually leave, a field of amethyst light manifested around her body and hauled her back into the middle of the room, “Hold up!” Twilight blurted over the stunned protests of the other mare, “I may not be a changeling, but I can sense Friendship problems from a mile away,” the alicorn briefly paused, considering, “or post-marriage problems...or whatever it is that you two are having. It’s definitely a relationship issue of some variety,” she ignored the epithet from the unicorn and pressed on.

“I finally have the two of you in the same room again, and neither of you is on the verge of death, or having some sort of existential crisis about their ‘true nature’, or wracked with guilt over their dietary needs...” Slipshod was feeling very called out by the purple pony. Her eyes were not leaving him as she spoke, wearing an annoyed expression. The alicorn’s features then abruptly shifted to something more bubbly as she deposited her captive next to the changeling and beamed at the two of them. Though the stallion sensed emotions other than merely ‘joy’ behind the intense smile, “So the three of us are going to have a nice, long, cathartic, ‘chat’ about our feelings―well, your feelings, anyway―until I’m satisfied you’ve worked past your issues!

“And neither of you is leaving here until that happens.”

Slipshod was made uncomfortable by how much that last ultimatum felt like an outright threat…

“This is foalnapping,” Squelch protested.

“Report me to the authorities,” Twilight said, still beaming brightly at the other mare. The unicorn grimaced and sulked, recognizing that she didn’t have a lot of options for relief available to her.

The changeling spoke up this time, “you can’t just stronghoof us into liking each other,” he pointed out.

Twilight snorted, “I don’t have to,” she insisted, “You both already do like each other,” the alicorn pointed out. Squelch opened her mouth to deny the allegation, but Twilight cut her off quickly, “I’m sorry, do you think I wasn’t on the bridge just hours ago to see how quickly you put color back in Slipshod’s face? That was no ‘I just like him as a friend’ kiss, sister!

“And you,” she focused now on the changeling, “I heard what you were about to say to her before the Maelstrom showed up,” the stallion winced, fidgeting uncomfortably now and looking anywhere but the unicorn next to him.

“Are you kidding me with this?” Twilight deadpanned, looking between the pair, “You two were married! What’s with this whole ‘nervous around my first crush’ shtick you two have going on?”

“Exactly! We were married,” Squelch stressed, “There’s a reason for the past tense!”

“Yes, there is,” Twilight agreed, nodding sagely before jabbing a wing at Slipshod, “And it’s because he manipulated you into breaking things off because he was worried he’d hurt you by sucking out all of your psychic energy.”

The changeling was nodding, and was about to voice his agreement with the alicorn when she cut him off this time, “Oh don’t you start! Just this morning we all saw how she was able to give you enough love to bring you back from the brink of death,” she pointed out, “That’s how much love she has for you, you dense motherfuckers!

“And,” the alicorn went on, exasperated, “the other thing well all ‘learned’―except for me, because I knew about this from the beginning―is that you are perfectly capable of giving love back!” Twilight exclaimed at the changeling, “So just do that! If you ever feel like Squelch is running a little low on love, then just give her some!

“That’s what a healthy relationship is! You love each other! And don’t either of you tell me that you don’t,” she said, glaring between the pair, daring either of them to challenge her assertion. Neither did, but the purple alicorn still felt a need to demonstrate her assertion, starting with Squelch.

“You not only kept Slipshod around after he broke your heart, but you also trusted his advice enough to risk everything you have, over your own better judgement,” Twilight pointed out, “Ponies don’t do that for creatures they merely ‘tolerate’. You clearly still respected his opinions a lot.

“And you,” she wheeled on the changeling stallion now, “have consistently sacrificed for her, to the point of being worryingly self-destructive over your guilt for hurting her. Nopony worries about how a mere ‘friend’ thinks of them that much,” the mare paused for a brief moment before adding off-hoofedly, “well, nopony with healthy coping skills anyway…”

Slipshod opened his mouth to make a quip along those lines, but Twilight must have sensed it coming, because she stepped on his attempt at a comment again, “Don’t start. The next words I want to hear out of both of you is an honest expression of how you feel about the other. Nothing else,” She glared at the stallion, “Slipshod, since you want to talk so bad, you go first,” Twilight directed a hoof in Squelch’s direction.

The changeling cringed, and was about to protest, but thought better of it when he saw the alicorn’s glare intensify when he didn’t immediately turn to address the unicorn next to him. He sighed, turned, and finally looked over at Squelch. She didn’t look as nervous as she felt. Which, of course, was par for the course with the mare. She was quite good at hiding how she felt from the world. That wasn’t possible with him though, and never had been. His innate ability to perceive her true nature was what had given him the edge where any other stallion wouldn’t have dared.

She wasn’t as cold as she let others think; not really. It was just her way of protecting herself, after not having had the warmest of upbringings. He’d managed to use his changeling senses to penetrate those defenses though and get to experience the ‘real’ Squelch that lay beneath. He’d liked that mare he got to know. A lot.

“...I know I hurt you,” he finally began, “I know it was wrong, and a bit cowardly, but the truth was that I needed you to hate me...because I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to stop caring about you on my own.

“I could have left at any time,” Slipshod admitted, smiling wryly at the mare, “Conned my way onto another crew. But...then I wouldn’t get to see you anymore. Having you around, even hating me, was a lot more tolerable than the thought of not having you around at all.

“I don’t ever want to not be around you, Squelch.”

The unicorn huffed, flashing a brief glare in the direction of the alicorn for backing her into this position before finally speaking up as well, “Well, in case it wasn’t obvious: I could have thrown you off my ship at any time,” she pointed out, “It wasn’t like you were the only ‘Steed pilot in the Sphere.

“Yeah, it did hurt,” she agreed, glaring at the stallion, “It hurt being cheated on, it hurt finding out I’d been manipulated, but most of all though it hurt finding out that you’d kept secrets from me,” the mare rolled her eyes and preemptively waved off the changeling’s excuse, “yeah, yeah; I know ‘I’m actually a bug pony in disguise’ is hardly the usual kind of generic secret most ponies keep,” she said, flashing a knowing look at the changeling, “but it still really threw me to learn that there was so much about my husband I never knew.

“If―and I do mean ‘if’!―I’m ever going to let somepony back in like that, I need to be able to trust that there aren’t any more secrets like that between us. If you can show me that you’re not going to lie to me any more―about anything,” she stared down the stallion, “then maybe―maybe―we can talk about...not sleeping in separate rooms.”

Slipshod felt himself starting to smile a little more easily again, “I’d like that. And I think I can accept those terms.”

“Great!” Twilight exclaimed in a not-quite-as-exasperated tone, “Awesome! Amazing! At long last, progress,” she sighed, rubbing the bridge of her muzzle, “I swear, I don’t know how Cadence did this for a millennia if every couple out there is even half as obstinate as you two.

“If this didn’t work, I was just going to say, ‘fuck it!’ and cast a ‘Want It; Need It’ spell on the both of you and lock you in a cabin for a week…

“Anyway!” The alicorn’s horn flared bright for a moment and a rather thick folder materialized in her telekinesis. The portfolio was floated over to Squelch, “This is for you from the general. It’s a list of personnel that she’d be willing to transfer to the Irregulars to flesh out the rest of your roster. Including a few of the Disciple’s physicians. Give it a look over when you have the time,” she eyed the pair, “no sooner than tomorrow morning.

“If anypony needs me, I’ll be in the clinic talking to Xanadu,” Twilight informed them before her lips quirked into an annoyed grimace, “...unless I end up in the utility room again. My hoof is going to be smelling like bleach for days―”

She vanished in a flash of amethyst light, leaving the pair looking at each other in mild confusion.

“...So, that was kind of weird, right?” Slipshod asked, nodding his head at where the alicorn had just been standing.

“Compared to what?” The sage green mare quipped, gesturing broadly at their surroundings as she floated the stack of files closer to her and began to look through them. Even if they were Disciples, the Irregulars were quite short staffed, and it would probably be nearly impossible for them to recruit any more personnel from within the Sphere. At least with Disciples, she didn’t have to worry about them asking questions about Twilight or Slipshod.

“Fair point,” the changeling agreed before suddenly looking a little more concerned as he saw what the mare was doing, “Didn’t Twilight specifically tell you not to look at that until morning? I don’t know what a ‘Want It; Need It’ spell does, but I don’t think we want it...”

“I figure she’ll be fine with it as long as we’re doing it together,” she said, glancing back in the stallion’s direction, “If I’m going to make you my business partner again, we need to get you back in the groove of vetting new hires.”

“Partners, eh?”

“Probationally,” Squelch specified, “for now.”

“I can live with that. I’ll swing by the cafeteria and see about getting us some coffee,” Slipshod said, heading for the door. He looked back, adding, “and then the quartermaster’s for a spare futon.”

He was halfway out when Squelch’s voice stopped him, “yes to the coffee; but I think we can pass on the futon actually. We’re not going to be getting much sleep tonight anyway,” at the changeling’s raised brow, the mare smirked and waved the thick collection of files in his direction, “there’s a lot of these to go through!”

She wasn’t blushing this time, but Slipshod could feel that the mare was well aware of how she’d phrased what she’d said…
...And he was confident that it wasn’t going to be exclusively paperwork that might keep them awake tonight.

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