Mass Effect: Shades of Twilight

by Loyal2Luna

First published 24th of January, 2013

Following the events of Equestrian Equation, Twilight must lead her people to a new life in the Milky Way Galaxy, prevent the established races from exploiting the Herd, and prepare for the inevitable return of the Reapers. (An Interactive story)

In 2185, during his campaign against the Collectors, Commander Shepard discovered a previously unknown species whose origins predated any other race in the modern galaxy. Following a daring rescue from their ancient sanctuary, the Equestrian Herd was brought back into the galaxy where, for the first time in eons, they must walk their own path.

Knowing full well the terrible threat that lingers on the edge of the galaxy, the leader of this newly freed race fights to secure her people’s future while attempting to prepare for the storm on the horizon.

This is her story.
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The long awaited Sequel to Mass Effect 2: The Equestrian Equation This is a reader directed story. Your choices will shape events.
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Also, this series has its own TVTropes page now! (Special thanks to user CrowMagnon for setting it up).

Prologue: Small Victories

“I’m not saying the codex is fraudulent or anything like that,” stated a purple unicorn with a striped violet mane as the door opened, and she took a few steps inside, flanked by the green-eyed mechanical equine she kept as her personal assistant.

She was grateful that the Council session had gone as well as it had, but knew that their minor victory was overshadowed by the enormity of the challenges that her kind now faced. One of these issues in particular had been nagging at the back of her mind for the better part of the day, which she shared with her assistant.

“I mean, since everypony’s knowledge of the galaxy only comes second-hoof from Equestria’s databanks, most of the entries have really proven useful for filling in the gaps. But with all that’s happening, we can’t exactly expect the Institute not to censor anything we tell them. On that note, I was wondering if maybe you could maintain a personal record of what’s going on. Something so that after all this is over, we can all have an impartial view of the events as they actually happened…”

The cybernetic changeling drone’s expression remained blank as it looked to his latest “owner,” giving no indication of what was transpiring in his digital brain.

“…Do you think that you could do that, Forty-Two?” the unicorn finished, showing her assistant a hopeful smile.

The synthetic Changeling Class mech facing the Madam President of the newly-recognized “Equestrian Herd” blinked, the green light emanating from his crystalline eyes winking out briefly to simulate a wholly organic reaction.

Literally in the blink of an eye, the operation was done. The mech’s optics turned back on after the momentary power diversion and the image of the lavender hued unicorn stood before him, her expression curious as she awaited a response.

“Oh…” the drone known as Forty-Two of Fifty shrugged his shoulders, the servos and gears eliciting a slight whirring as they did so. “I’m sure I can throw something together, Twi.”

“I know you can get it done. Take all the time you need.” Twilight Sparkle nodded, letting out a sigh as she considered the events of that day. She trotted slowly over to the couch of the small Presidium apartment she had been allowed to use for the duration of her business with the Council. “I still can’t believe that Councilor Sparatus voted against us.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons, Twilight.”

“Like what? Why would he possibly vote against the rest of the Council in granting our people endangered status?” The Madam President planted herself in the seat, a cross look on her face. “I’ll tell you why: He thinks that because we honestly believe in the Reaper threat, we’re either dangerous, or crazy. Or both.”

Twilight let out a dejected sigh. “Granted, the rest of the Council except for Anderson thinks the same thing, but Sparatus is only doing this out of spite.”

Accessing Citadel Department of Transportation records

Search parameters: Councilor Gladior Sparatus - registered vehicles

...

Search complete: 1 result

“Nassaria 9000 XL Personal Luxury Shuttle, Registration Numeral: 102938, Color: Gold. Registered under Councilor Gladior Sparatus. Estimated value: eight hundred thousand credits.”

“It’s probably because of the Commander...” the unicorn continued while Forty-Two listened patiently. “The Council doesn’t exactly approve of Shepard right now, or his ideas. And given how readily we support him, it’s not surprising that Sparatus would choose to get at him by going through us.”

“Twilight... are you familiar with the human concept of ‘karma’?” the mech interrupted her, causing the horned equine to lean up from her resting position and give the mech a curious, suspicious look.

“Yes... Why?”

The mech’s luminescent eyes shifted slightly, giving off the appearance of acute amusement as he terminated his connection to the extranet.

“Just curious.”

Author's Notes:

Author’s Foreword

And so begins the tale of Twilight Sparkle and the Equestrians as they enter the universe of Mass Effect.

This story is a direct sequel to Mass Effect 2: The Equestrian Equation, requested by popular demand by you, the fans.

As before, the readers shall direct the course of the story, although there will be a few differences between Shades of Twilight and Equestrian Equation which will be as follows.

The Setting

Shades of Twilight takes place during the interim between Mass Effect 2 and 3, chronicling the trials and tribulations of Twilight Sparkle and the Equestrian Herd as they try to adapt to life in the greater galaxy. The majority of this story will take place on the Citadel, and the scenes will jump from time to time as we expedite the passing of weeks or months to focus on the most important points of the tale.

The Rules

Mass Effect: Shades of Twilight is an interactive story in which readers will designate the path the Equestrian Race by majority vote. In order to try and maintain a steady post rate, the voting period will be reduced to three days from the day of publishing (as opposed to a week as it was with Equestrian Equation). At which time I will tally the votes and announce the winner in the comments.

I also appreciate a certain amount of commentary along with the vote choice, as I tend to thrive on the feedback of readers and what they think of the story. Don’t think your opinion doesn’t matter, as it’s possible that, with enough support, additional options could open up, and the consequences of certain choices might be altered.

If you are not sure if you have made it in time for the voting, PLEASE check the chapter comments for a finalizing vote tally. Until I post the tally, you may consider your vote valid. After it is posted, voting is officially over.

Choices, Assets, and the Codex

Throughout the story, Twilight, as the undisputed leader of the Equestrians, will be confronted by two types of story altering options which you, the readers, shall decide on: Choices and Directive Decisions

Choices are the immediate decisions that will decide the course of the story and be made at the end of each chapter, having an instant impact on events that can affect everything from how the Equestrians are perceived by other species, to whether some ponies live or die.

Directive Decisions shall be peppered throughout the stories and logged by Forty-Two as requiring Twilight’s approval, decision, or dismissal. From mediating disagreements between herd members and aliens to influencing what direction certain groups shall take within the Herd. These decisions do not have an immediate effect, however, over time the results will become apparent both in the story and in the assets available to the Herd as these decisions bear fruit.

It is important to understand that unlike Shepard, Twilight’s Choices and Directive Decisions are not bound by the moral restraints of “Paragon” and “Renegade.” That is to say: Just because a choice seems morally more upstanding does not automatically make it the best choice. And by the same token, a harsh or more confrontational approach does not always lead to poor results. As a leader to her people, Twilight must be able to be both kind and firm when required.

Both Choices and Directive Decisions will be logged in the Author’s Notes of each chapter for clarity and review.

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Assets will function much as they do in Mass Effect 3, keeping track of the victories, failures, and status of the Equestrian Species as they attempt to consolidate themselves. As in life, not all outcomes can be easily predicted and good intentions will not always lead to benefits for the Herd.

Assets will be tracked at the bottom of the Codex Blog, which is described below and shall have an impact in both Shades of Twilight and Mass Effect 3: Harmony for All, the planned follow-up to this story.

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Forty-Two of Fifty, The Madam President’s personal assistant mech, has established the Equestrian Codex for members of the Herd to access at their leisure. This shall be an evolving project maintained by Forty-Two throughout the story with specific updates grouped by the chapter they appear in order to avoid unintentional spoilers.

New readers are asked to please read up to the relevant chapter before delving into that section of the Codex, and reading further entries may result in spoilers, so be warned before going in too far.

As a parting message I simply ask:

Please comment early and often.
If you favorite, PLEASE click the “Like” button as well. There’s no reason not to, it’s literally right next to the thing.

Enjoy.

Arc 1 - Part 1: New Ponyville

Twilight Sparkle sat looking out the window as she lay across two seats directly behind the cockpit of the large civilian transport that had been provided. Her discomfort was evident, and she shifted her haunches around, trying to find a suitable position as the divot that divided the seats was obviously designed for bipedal creatures.

She was anxious, that much was certain. The sudden rush of activity that had begun a few hours prior had her on edge. She had not expected action to be taken so quickly, or in such an urgent manner, when a salarian captain from Citadel Security had arrived at her door, informing her that her people were to be “transferred” to their new residence immediately. She had asked what had happened of course, attempting to pry information from the bipedal amphibian, but it did no good, as she learned he was simply following instructions and had been given no specific details.

Twilight had assured her friends, who in turn assured the others, that there was nothing to be concerned about; that the Council was just eager to see them off.

The truth was, she didn’t like being kept in the dark like this at all. It had been only ten hours since her last session with them ended. The rush and urgency of the Council’s action had her worried.

Everything was happening so fast.

She spared a glance over her shoulder towards the black mech standing in the aisle, silently keeping watch as she tried to relax after the hectic job of getting the Herd aboard the transport and making sure everypony was accounted for.

The Equestrian Herd... Two hundred and ninety-seven mares and stallions, adults and children, along with forty-eight black metal mechs.

It was hard to believe that this paltry number of beings was what constituted the entirety of her species. And they barely took up half of the space inside the civilian transport, which she had learned had been designed to carry over five hundred individuals.

There were so few of them… What kind of a future could they possibly build for themselves?

No... Can’t think like that.

The shock of all they had gone through had worn off at least; small comfort to the lavender unicorn as as she took note of the general calm among the ponies riding the transport with her. Some were looking out the windows in wonder, glad to be free of the refugee camp where they had been held over the past few days, while others spoke amongst themselves, wondering what it was that awaited them at their destination. Clearly they were unaware of the fact that something as simple as a malfunction in the transport’s eezo drive could easily bring an end to--

Stop it, Twilight. Stop thinking about that.

Twilight swallowed, trying her hardest to smother the almost constant insecurity she felt on behalf of the ponies she swore to protect. She forced herself to concentrate on the scenery that was serenely floating past outside the transport window, and a relaxed sense of familiarity came over her as she was reminded of her many trips on Equestria’s railways.

However, the comparison was tenuous at best, as the scene she beheld was a far cry from the rolling green hills and tall, spindly mountains of the computer simulation she once called home.

The Citadel was truly a marvel of engineering, of that, there was no doubt. It was almost thirteen kilometers across and roughly cylindrical in shape, with five enormous arms, each one containing a cityscape larger than Manehatten could have ever aspired to be. All attached to the center ring that was known as the Presidium, where the rich and politically influential conducted their business in comfort of the highest quality among glittering fountains and lush greenery. It was also where she had spent the last five days, performing her role as “Madam President” in front of the Council and trying to secure her people’s place in this galaxy.

The Equestrian Board of Directors (ie. her fellow former Elements of Harmony), Councilor Anderson, and Forty-Two had all assured her she did a magnificent job in that respect. But now, as the transport was leaving the gleaming structures of the Presidium behind and beginning to descend over a particular Ward arm, she was beginning to have doubts.

The Wards were also impressive in their own right; each arm completely covered in bright steel and blinking lights, with tall skyscrapers reaching out into open space while still seeming tiny in comparison to the scale of the Citadel as a whole. What the Wards lacked in the Presidium’s tranquil beauty, they more than made up for in activity, as the streets and thoroughfares between buildings were alive with light and movement, like blood rushing through the veins of some great animal.

But as they grew closer to the Ward arm that was clearly their destination, the details of what lay below began to sink in for Twilight, causing her anxiousness to grow.

Large swaths of the section they were headed for were almost completely dark, in stark contrast to the bustling areas around it. While there was obvious activity, it was not to the degree one would expect from legions of aliens going about their daily business. Most of the action appeared to be that of construction and repair crews, maneuvering among wrecked buildings and collapsed infrastructure that looked like it belonged in a warzone. Even the areas that seemed to be cleared of debris also looked to be far more muted than the other Wards.

“Pilot?” Twilight spoke up, directing her question towards the dark brown turian in the cockpit. He wore a C-Sec uniform, his fingers maneuvering over the holographic console with a practiced ease.

“Yes, Madam President?” the turian replied pleasantly, managing to inject a degree of politeness into what was still an alien-sounding vocalization to the pony.

“Where are we going?” the unicorn asked, trying not to cringe at the title that she still was not entirely comfortable with, before thinking it might behoove her to be less casual in her speech. “That is, what is our destination?”

“Tayseri Ward, ma’am,” the officer offered as he nodded back to Twilight, his alien appearance preventing her from reading his expressions. “District Twelve-Eighty-Six. We will be making our final descent in just a moment.”

“What’s happening out there?” Twilight continued, her earlier concern hardly set to rest, as she took note of a large industrial machine maneuvering a heavy section of metal pipe over an exposed opening that appeared to be gushing waste materials.

“Reconstruction,” the pilot answered simply. Just then, Twilight felt a slight lift in her stomach as they entered the gravity field of the Ward. The resulting adjustment in the mass effect field keeping them aloft, imperceptible to most organics, was nonetheless felt as a subtle tingling in the base of her horn. “Tayseri got hit hardest in the Geth attack two years ago; lots of collateral damage when the humans blew up their flagship. Last I heard, they were still trying to get full power and atmosphere restored to the most-affected areas.”

“It looks...” Twilight hesitated as they passed over an area filled with grim-faced aliens milling about, and she tried to find a gentle term for what she was seeing “...a little run-down.”

“That’s putting it mildly, ma’am. Still, you should have seen it six months ago, back when they had finally done enough work on the Presidium and other Wards to even consider starting here,” the turian told her. “Lots of casualties, lots of damage, and a great big legal mess over who owned what was left.”

Twilight considered this for a moment, and was about to ask the turian if he could elaborate, before he unexpectedly spoke up, addressing someone else over the ship’s communication.

“This is C-Sec Civilian Transport Five-Five to Citadel Control, requesting clear descent vector to Twelve-Eighty-Six. Please confirm.”

Twilight’s ears pitched forwards as she listened in, watching a glowing panel on the dash of the transport open up a display indicating audio feedback.

“Confirmed, Five-Five. Public traffic diverted. You are clear to descend. Delegation is on standby and awaiting your arrival.”

Twilight drew back, glancing over to her personal mech, which met her glance with an equally curious expression communicating through its green crystalline eyes.

“Delegation? Why would--” the unicorn started before the turian cut her off somewhat curtly, while still attempting to maintain a polite, professional tone.

“I’m just following procedures, ma’am. Your contact at the docking area should be able to answer all of your questions. If you could please engage your safety harness, we can begin...”

The pilot paused a moment, looking back over his shoulder towards the quadruped laying across two seats, each equipped with a set of shoulder straps that were designed for taller, thinner creatures of a very different build. As he observed her, Twilight raised an eyebrow, giving the turian a dubious expression that communicated the obvious futility of his advice.

“Right... Nevermind, ma’am. Beginning descent.” The turian officer turned away, eager to drop off his cargo and return to active duty as soon as possible.

The large, unremarkable grey transport, a boxy craft with large, clumsy-looking thrusters situated at its fore and aft, descended with an ease and grace that few could have suspected from its outwardly utilitarian appearance. Settling into a dock along the edge of the specified shipping lane, the large magnetic clamps set into the side wall reached up to secure the transport. Then, two narrow ramps unfolded from the ship’s sides, extending to reach ground level as the smooth metal doors connected to them slid open.

The first to emerge from the vessel, Twilight Sparkle blinked for a moment in the unfiltered light of the nebula surrounding the station as she stepped out onto the ramp to survey her surroundings.

One thing was immediately apparent: It wasn’t the Presidium.

There was no greenery here, or any signs of life at all, for that matter. Their surroundings were glaringly utilitarian, lacking any sort of organic feeling and utterly unadorned beyond the numbers stamped into the bulkhead panels.

The layout immediately struck Twilight as odd; running completely counter to what she normally considered a place meant to be lived in. The whole area, aside from the dock, was encapsulated by three steel bulkheads; two thick walls on the left and right, with the third being an inclined slope on which a majority of the district’s buildings sat.

The sloping area itself was divided into four shelf-like sections, like a staircase built for a giant, leading to the upper edge of the Ward arm. These platforms grew smaller as they moved up the wall, like layers of a cake, connected by a series of large stairwells that led up and down between them.

On the bottommost level, just in front of the dock, several buildings clearly intended to be some sort of storage warehouses sat lined up in a row, each one easily big enough to fit the transport that had ferried them there. Aside from the dock itself, the only other entrances to the district appeared to be a series of elevators set up along the walls lining the ground floor, obviously allowing for transit to and from the nearby districts.

Leading up, the buildings grew more diverse. Some were open-air configurations, where one might assume they would be perfect for storefronts. Others were more reserved, their only outward features being a door, and perhaps a window now and then.

The very top level, the unicorn realized, had room for only three buildings. When she squinted, she could see that one of them bore the icon she had come to learn represented C-Sec, leading her to immediately identify the Security Station for what it was.

But everything else was empty, sterile, and lacked any personality whatsoever.

Twilight hadn’t been sure what she was expecting, but this certainly had not been it. And as she turned her head to her left, she watched for a moment as a procession of ponies, lead by a familiar multicolored mane, began to move off the transport down the second ramp.

A cold nudge on her flank snapped the dismayed unicorn back to reality.

“Madam President?” Forty-Two queried, a tone of concern in his hushed voice before he nodded behind them, bringing her attention to the queue that was forming behind her immobile form.

“Right...” Twilight returned the gesture, moving forwards as she started down the ramp and for the first time brought her attention down to the dock itself.

She paused again, although this time, her expression drew back into a smile in realization of who their “delegation” happened to be.

“Good morning, Madam President. Welcome to the Wards,” came the deep, baritone voice that belonged to a clean-cut, dark-skinned human, standing at the bottom of the ramp wearing a dark blue suit she had seen quite often over the past few days. “I hope the ride down was comfortable.”

“Councilor Anderson?” Twilight was surprised, moving down the ramp at a steady trot now as she took note of several humans, asari, and salarians in matching uniforms that she had come to identify with the Council Tower’s staff. “What are you doing here?”

“Citadel Public Itinerary indicates the Council is currently in session,” Forty-Two stated, keeping just alongside the unicorn mare as it chirped in the emotionless fashion it used in the presence of other organics. “Councilor David Anderson’s presence was not anticipated.”

“This morning’s economic session was postponed, not that I’m complaining.” The former Alliance Captain shook his head, before his features creased with a warm smile. “This is a big moment for you and your people, Twilight. I’d rather be down here helping you get situated than up in the Presidium pushing papers around.”

“You set aside something that important just to see us off?” Twilight was shocked, bringing a hoof to her mouth as she considered that the action would actually be typical of the human’s past behavior. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t that important. And besides, it wasn’t my call to begin with,” Anderson explained, giving the equine president a short nod as she neared the bottom of the ramp. “The Turian Councilor called for the postponement; something about a clerical error down at C-Sec Headquarters. Unusual for Sparatus to rush off like that, but it gave me the opportunity to make sure that everything went smoothly with the Herd’s transfer. As for why I decided to come in person, well... I just thought it might make things easier.”

He towered over her, as humans tended to do to her species, but in Anderson’s case, there was much more to it than a matter of height. The gruff human simply had a special sort of quality about him, like he was the best one to turn to when tough decisions needed to be made, and could take command of any situation when the need arose. And yet, Twilight never got the impression that he was looking down on her in any way. It was just one of the things that had so quickly endeared him to her, and in the short time she had known him, she found herself trusting Anderson as readily as one of her own kind.

“That, and I felt you deserved an explanation for the suddenness of all this,” Anderson continued as they stepped away from the Herd. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, but we needed to move quickly in order to avoid... complications.”

“What sort of complications?” Twilight asked, now intrigued.

The Human Councilor let out a breath, raising a hand under his chin. “I’ll explain in detail later. Suffice to say that certain parties weren’t too happy about us setting all this up for you and your people.”

“Setting up what?” Twilight paused as she looked around, a sudden realization sinking in that she had glossed over during her preliminary scan of the surroundings.

There was nobody else here.

Aside from the Council Staff, who were almost finished rounding up the Herd near the exit of the dock, there wasn’t a single alien in sight. The streets and paths between the buildings were completely empty, as were the buildings themselves, which stood open and bare. The entire area had been cleared of debris, and simply sat there, as if it were just waiting for somebody, or somepony to occupy it.

“You can’t be serious...” Twilight’s earlier concern was replaced with shock as she came to realize exactly what was being offered.

“That’s right. The whole district,” Anderson confirmed with a nod, while casting his arm out in a sweeping motion. “Consider it a ‘protected habitat’ for the sake of your endangered species argument. It’s yours to do with as you see fit.”

“Hey, Twilight?” a new voice interrupted, drawing the unicorn’s attention to the approaching blue pegasus mare. Her wings beating softly and mostly out of habit, she floated towards them gracefully before hovering in place, folding her forearms together. “What’s going on? These guys aren't telling us anything.”

“Uhh... well,” Twilight stumbled slightly, her mind reeling as she came to realize the situation they had stumbled into before she looked past Rainbow to the Herd.

They were confused and uncertain, speaking amongst themselves in hushed, worried tones. Looking over their surroundings with critical eyes and clearly coming to the same conclusions that Twilight had first drawn of a desolate, empty place, the silence nearly deafening compared to the din of activity elsewhere on the station. A few of the more timid-looking among them cast their eyes backwards as the transport that had shuttled them there retracted its loading ramps, was released from the magnetic docking clamps, and slowly coasted away.

Those expressions made her heart sink.

“You should say something to them,” Anderson stated calmly, coming to the same conclusion as he too observed the Herd’s initial, unimpressed reaction.

“But... what am I supposed to say? I don’t even fully understand what’s going on myself yet.” Twilight shook her head, drawing a concerned look from Rainbow, who was also clearly in the dark. “Councilor, perhaps you could...”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Twilight,” the human answered solemnly, raising a hand to give her pause. “It’s not my place. These are your people, not mine. You’re their leader. They trust you.”

Anderson bent down, bringing himself to her level, before placing his hand on her shoulder in a compassionate gesture. “I can see you understand what’s ahead of you; what the stakes are. Now it’s up to you to help them see as well.”

“But... how?”

“Just tell them the truth,” the human said with conviction.

Twilight gulped slightly as she nodded, more out of obligation than agreement before starting away from the Human Councilor and following Rainbow back towards the Herd.

The assembled ponies quieted down almost immediately as she moved to the front, turning to face the Madam President while Rainbow pulled back to the front row, joining the rest of the crowd. Anderson and Forty-Two stood at her flank.

Twilight’s ears flicked slightly as she took a few steadying breaths, trying not to let it show that her heart felt like it was about to burst.

After the Exodus of Equestria, on the Normandy, there had been no great address or show of hooves. Everypony had known what had occurred; they all understood the situation. And while she was still unable to grasp when it happened exactly, everypony had immediately looked to her as their leader.

But this was her first real moment standing before her people as Madam President of the Equestrian Herd, their eyes on her and her alone as they waited to hear what she had to say.

She had been in front of an audience before. She had given countless private dissertations on various scientific and magical topics during her time as Celestia’s pupil, as well as occasionally sparing a few words to the residents of Ponyville at the request of Mayor Mare from time to time.

But this was different, she realized. There were no notes, no script to fall back on. Not even so much as somepony to give her a lead-in.

For a long, awkward moment, she merely looked back at them, her eyes roving over the dizzying array of colored fur as she picked out the ponies she recognized and the ones with whom she only had a passing knowledge.

Twilight then looked to her friends, each standing in the front row and waiting to hear what she had to say.

She took a deep breath, focusing on the five of them as she willed her composure to remain in place.

“My fellow Equestrians...” she started, having to pause as she tried to find the words. “When we first arrived here on the Citadel, we had lost so much.”

The ponies standing before her watched the unicorn as she started to move, pacing slightly as she continued to speak.

“We lost our homes... Family and friends... Our entire way of life was shattered... leaving what was left of us to try and pick up the pieces. I think... everypony here knows that pain.”

She saw a few eyes turn downcast, clearly having struck something among the gathered ponies. Applejack in particular seemed to be the most affected by her words, removing the stetson perched upon her head and holding it to her chest as she maintained a respectful silence.

“But... um...” The mare stumbled over her words a bit, losing her momentum as she was unable to think of a suitable follow-up for several seconds. “That pain isn’t meant to be ignored. It’s... it’s what gives us strength. And if we can rely on those around us to help us move past it, then I know we can weather almost anything.”

Twilight tried her best to inject an amount of bravado in her words, but to her own ears, they sounded hollow; detached from emotion. Once again, she looked to her closest friends as a source of encouragement to keep going, as she had so often done when things got tough in the past.

Little did she know they were about to do one better.

Speaking up loudly and clearly enough for everyone to hear, Rarity stepped forwards to give her piece.

“You’re absolutely right, Twilight. We’re all in this together, no matter what happens.”

“Darn straight,” Applejack added, replacing her hat on top of her blond mane. “Everypony here’s got yer back. We’re not gonna let nuthin’ tear us apart. Not now, not ever.”

“That’s right!” With a start, Rainbow pushed off the ground, hovering a few feet in the air as she turned to address the still-silent gathering of the Equestrian species. “Come on, everypony! Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna show Twilight some support!?”

A series of hushed murmurs ran through the crowd, a few of the ponies nervously shuffling on their hooves before another voice rang out from the masses.

“A’course we will!” piped up a voice that could only have belonged to little Apple Bloom. “Ya’ll can do it, Twi!”

Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie, whose happy grin was on full display despite her once-poofy mane laying flat against her neck, leaned forwards from the front of the group and cupped a hoof to her muzzle. “Keep going, Twilight! You’re doing great!” she whispered, offering some badly-needed encouragement to the purple unicorn that was accompanied and amplified by steady nods from the rest of her friends.

The Madam President set her jaw as she looked at each of her closest companions, who each looked back at her with expressions of the utmost faith and kindness. It took everything she had not to tear up in front of everyone, and yet she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of moisture well up in her eyes as she found solace in what she herself had said just moments ago.

If there was one thing that remained true in the transition between fantasy and reality, it was that she could always count on her friends to be there for her when she needed them most.

Twilight closed her eyes and took another deep breath, the words now coming naturally to her, so full of feeling that she could have sworn it was her heart, and not her mouth, that was speaking them.

“But there is one thing that we will not, cannot lose. Something that can never be taken away from us, and that is the faith we have in ourselves and each other.” Twilight’s head was now raised high, and she noted several of the heads in the crowd start nodding in agreement. “Our ancestors were once in the same position we are now; thrust into the wider world. A whole galaxy filled with danger and uncertainty, but also filled with enormous potential.”

Twilight turned around, resuming her pace as a mixture of hope and tenacity spurred her onwards.

“Granted, we’re starting with considerably less than they did, and the odds are stacked against us... But are we going to let that stand in our way?”

A chorus of “No!”s rang out from nearly half of the crowd, accompanied by an impressive amount of stomped hooves on the metal floor; an unexpected reaction to the assembled aliens who observed them, a few of them taken aback by the sudden change in the atmosphere.

“That’s right! We will adapt. We will rebuild. We will stand tall, and we will stand proud! And in time, we will earn a place for ourselves among the people of this galaxy!”

The members of the Council Staff started to exchange a few wary glances, as the air filled with no small amount of enthusiastic cheering, and the floor rumbled beneath their feet with what took them a second to recognize as Equestrian applause.

“But we have to start somewhere, and that place is here! The time is now!” Twilight stood up on her hind legs, suddenly towering over the rest of the assembled ponies as she balanced herself and waved one hoof back towards the empty buildings. “Our friends and allies on the Council have offered us a grand opportunity. A place to establish ourselves; a place to call our own.”

Twilight went back down on four hooves and spared a look to Anderson, who had his arms crossed, and was smirking with approval.

“From here we take our first steps into the unknown. What I see here isn’t just a collection of empty buildings and steel bulkheads; what I see is opportunity. A place that will put us well on our way towards realizing our destiny...”

The purple unicorn paused, closing her eyes and holding a hoof to her chest as she allowed herself a brief moment of reflection. She thought about her past and the things that were important to her. Specifically, she found her thoughts turning to the fateful day when her once-beloved mentor, Princess Celestia, sent her on what she thought at the time to be an utterly pointless venture. The day when she left the ivory towers of Canterlot and discovered a quiet little town, where she would come to find the things that gave her life direction and meaning.

When she opened her eyes again, Twilight knew exactly what she wanted to say next.

“Fillies and gentlecolts-- No... My friends... Welcome.” The Madam President took a deep breath, knowing that this moment would stay in the hearts and minds of her people for perhaps the rest of their lives.

“Welcome... to New Ponyville!”

An even greater amount of shouts and applause emanated from the ponies, and Twilight’s chest swelled with pride as she noted how everyone in attendance was now looking at their surroundings with new eyes, their minds almost visibly alight with the possibilities.

And as her five friends galloped forwards to offer a generous helping of hugs and expressions of approval at her performance, a tiny part of her mind that wasn’t currently flooded with endorphins conspired to make one very sobering observation.

I’m going to be doing this for the rest of my life.

“Whew! Not bad, right?” Twilight said to Anderson, after she managed to get away from the various members of the Herd that had rushed up to speak with her following the speech.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a natural, Twilight. Given a little more practice, you might even give Shepard a run for his money,” the Human Councilor responded with an added chuckle, before noticing the tension that the pony was still carrying in her body. “How do you feel?”

“Heart hammering, ears ringing, and I can’t feel my hooves,” Twilight related to the human, her smile still in place although her tone indicated that she was quite shellshocked. “Aside from that... doing great!”

“That sounds about right,” Anderson nodded. “To be honest, you did even better than I expected. Being able to appeal to a group on a personal level like that is a rare gift.”

Twilight released a soft sigh as she relaxed, looking over her shoulder as Forty-Two came up to take his customary position at her flank.

“The Herd has begun exploration of New Ponyville, Madam President,” the drone told her in its measured, digital voice. “Initial settlement is underway. Changeling units are coordinating with Council Staff to facilitate orderly integration. Directors will be immediately notified if any issues occur.”

“Thank you, Forty-Two.”

“Your assistant seems to have things well in hand, Twilight,” Anderson noted. “If you have the time, perhaps I can give you a tour.”

Twilight’s ears twitched slightly at the subtle shift in the human’s voice, which she took as an indication that a simple walk around the district wasn’t the only thing he had in mind. The mare had not been in politics for long, but as she watched his body language, with so many gestures similar to those of her own kind, she took note of the manner in which he looked over towards the Council Staff, who were smiling as they pointed out the surroundings to many of her fellow Equestrians.

The Madam President of the Herd folded her ears back, a serious expression taking hold of her features.

“Forty-Two, could you inform the others that I’m taking a meeting? The Councilor and I have things to discuss.”

“Of course, Madam President.” The changeling’s wings buzzed for a moment, the lights on the antennae that made up its “ears” winking in and out as they broadcast the directive, before it spoke up again. “Twenty-One of Thirty has been notified and will deliver the message.”

“Let’s get started then, shall we?” Anderson smiled again, motioning the Equestrian to follow him as he started into the lower level of New Ponyville.

“How did the Council manage all this?” Twilight asked directly, worry in her eyes as she began to appreciate the sheer size of the Ward district that had been simply given over to them. “So much open space... just for us? The Wards always looked so… crowded.”

As much as she would've liked to just accept this gift at face value, a nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her this was simply too good to be true. There had to be strings attached.

“Brute force diplomacy, a lot of fast talking, and pointing out the right laws to the right people.” Anderson shook his head. “After your last session yesterday, the other Councilors and I spent a few hours going over our options. We couldn’t just throw you out into an occupied Ward unprepared, so we had to come up with something else.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Twilight nodded, finding herself imagining what would have happened if they had gotten off the transport in the middle of one of the Wards’ many thoroughfares and been left to fend for themselves among the hordes of locals.

“It wasn’t so much concern as it was a matter of necessity. The Council is well aware of the power the media has, as well as how much attention they have been paying to your plight. Dropping your Herd anywhere else would have been seen as akin to tossing an infant into a varren den.” Anderson didn’t seem particularly pleased about this fact, and although it did strike Twilight as rather blunt, she appreciated that the Human Councilor didn’t shy away or try to sugarcoat the facts.

“We had to come up with something else, and the timing for our ‘Plan B’ couldn’t have been more perfect. For the first time in millennia, there were entire areas of the Citadel Wards left completely unoccupied; all claims of ownership voided because of the casualties during the battle two years ago. All of the abandoned areas that we’ve managed to restore recently went up for public auction, including this one, which turned out to be the ideal choice.”

Anderson gestured to the large bulkheads that ran up either side of the shelf-like platforms, then to the Ward wall to which the levels were affixed.

“Blocks such as Twelve-Eighty-Six are arranged along the edges of the Ward, and the design isolates this particular area from the rest of Tayseri. Aside from the dock, the only way in is through either of the two adjacent districts. There’s enough designated living space for your entire species, and the rest can be modified to suit any number of functions.” Anderson proceeded to point out details relevant to his description, trying to put as much of a positive spin on the blank slate that was to be her new home. “The Council is hoping that this is enough to demonstrate their support to the public, while putting what happens next, including your decisions and the consequences that follow, squarely under your responsibility and not theirs.”

“So...” Twilight started, following the logic of his statement. “This is pretty much the Council kicking us out of the nest.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way...” Anderson shook his head, clearly disapproving of Twilight’s tone. “Don’t get me wrong; the other Council members are hardly rooting for you to fail. But they haven’t gotten to where they are without exercising caution in unknown situations. There’s a reason they waited as long as they did to intervene in the First Contact War with my people.”

Twilight nodded, having taken the time to read up on the rapid ascent of Humanity to their current position on the galactic stage. She considered this information as the two continued to walk down the streets of New Ponyville before something that had been sitting at the back of her mind came to the front.

“You said that we had to be rushed up here to avoid complications,” the mare pointed out, curiosity tinging her tone.

“That I did. You know how I said the timing was perfect? I’m not exaggerating. Twelve-Eighty-Six and seven other districts went up for sale several months ago, and no small number of private individuals were dead set on acquiring them. The auction was literally hours away from closing when we intervened and seized the property.”

“Uhhh…” Twilight hesitated as she paused in her gait, her expression worried. “I’m not claiming to be a lawyer, but that doesn’t strike me as being entirely legal.”

“It’s politics: Sometimes you have to stretch the law in order to get what you need.” Anderson shook his head, using his hand to rub the corners of his eyes. “In this case, we’re lucky we were able to work within the law at all. Several obscure clauses in the Galactic Species Protection Act allow the Council to designate areas in Citadel Space as ‘Protected Habitats.’ It's never happened on the Citadel, but there was nothing in the fine print that said it couldn’t be done. However, even though we refunded his credits, the highest bidder on the district was preparing a legal counter-suite argument before we had so much as finished finalizing the documentation. If we didn’t act fast, the decision could’ve been held up in the courts for who knows how long.”

“So, if I understand you correctly...” The wheels in Twilight’s mind were turning as she considered this, reaching the conclusion before Anderson could finish relating the story to her. “As the endangered species in question, we had to actually be in the district in order to make it qualify as a habitat.”

“Exactly. And it’s a lot harder to legally displace an endangered species when they’ve already settled in. The lawyers will keep trying to get their way, but now they don’t even have a leg to stand on.” The Councilor sighed, his expression turning serious. “However, I’m afraid that this offering is the most we’ll be able to provide to you. Anything beyond this, and the other species might start accusing us of playing favorites.”

“So we’re on our own now?” Twilight asked, although she regretted her tone immediately as Anderson’s expression hardened.

“In terms of direct support, I’m afraid so,” the human confirmed, his face turning grim. “You still have all the legal protections afforded an endangered species, but you’re also an independent sentient race, and with that comes an expectation of self-reliance. You need to show that you can stand on your own two feet... in a manner of speaking.”

From her position alongside him, the lavender unicorn rolled her eyes at Anderson’s attempt at a joke; a gesture that he happened not to notice as he continued to impart more details about their situation.

“That being said, this is still Citadel property, and not a sovereign Equestrian State. C-Sec will assign an officer to serve as the district’s liaison within the next few days. Whoever they select will be staying here indefinitely in order to make sure things stay peaceful and orderly. If there are any legal issues, or if you need to get in contact with C-Sec, you go through him.”

The Madam President considered all of this for a few moments, carefully filing away what she had been told before nodding.

“I understand,” Twilight replied blankly, not wanting to betray any emotion at what was clearly something that Anderson felt he needed to impress upon her.

“Good.” The human’s expression softened. “Now that that’s out of the way, do you feel like hearing some advice from an old war veteran?”

“As long as we’re clear that I’m under no obligation to follow it,” Twilight responded, perhaps a bit more sorely than she intended.

“You learn quickly...” Anderson smirked, his tone approving, before moving on to more serious matters. “In this galaxy, trust is a valuable commodity. It’s even more valuable on a place like the Citadel; there’ll be no shortage of folks who will try to take advantage of your situation.”

“I’m well aware of that, Anderson...” the unicorn remarked bitingly, feeling that the former captain was wasting his time pointing out the obvious. “You don’t need to worry; my people know how to handle themselves.”

“No, they don’t, Twilight. That’s the problem,” the human put it bluntly, as he stopped walking and turned to face her. “Your people are far too trusting for their own good. That might’ve worked well enough in your virtual world, but out here, if members of the Herd start associating with the wrong people, I have no doubt it’ll end badly. You need to be careful in picking those you choose to get close to, and the same goes for the rest of your species.”

Anderson’s words stung deeper than Twilight would care to admit, but she couldn’t deny that the veteran had a point. If the Equestrian Herd was to survive, they had to be vigilant in protecting their interests from those who would come bearing wide smiles... and sharp teeth.

Twilight closed her eyes contemplatively, taking Anderson’s advice to heart. She could tell he wasn’t quite finished, though. “I get the feeling you already have someone in mind.”

The Human Councilor nodded solemnly. “Cerberus, for starters.”

“Cerberus...” Twilight expression instantly soured at hearing the name of the pro-human paramilitary group, and with good reason.

One of the first things she had done upon acquiring an extranet connection at the Citadel was to look up as much information about Cerberus as she could, considering their connection with Commander Shepard and the role they played in ultimately uncovering the Equestria Facility. It didn’t come as a surprise that a lot of information about the shady organization and their mysterious leader, the Illusive Man, was either nonexistent, or made up of rumors and hearsay. What little she did manage to find only served to bolster her impression of the group as a brutal, uncaring gang of thugs who cared only about furthering their own goals.

Not that she needed any added incentive, seeing as one of their top scientists was almost singlehandedly responsible for pulling the plug on her entire species.

The very thought of what that man attempted to do nearly caused Twilight’s blood to boil, and she tried to shake her head clear of those thoughts before she was reminded of one... particularly unpleasant memory. She looked back up at Anderson with determination set into her features.

“I already know Cerberus can’t be trusted. If I so much as see one of their uniforms, the person who’s wearing it’s going to be shown the door.” Twilight then stopped, rubbing a hoof against her chin for a second before adding one exception to her declaration. “Unless it’s Shepard, of course.”

“Of course.” Anderson allowed himself a brief chuckle. “I’m glad to hear it. Although you might be glad to know the Commander’s business with them will most likely be coming to an end soon.”

“Oh?” Twilight perked up a bit, surprised, as news of Shepard’s actions had been virtually impossible to come by since the two of them parted ways.

“That’s right. At least, I’m fairly sure that--” The human was interrupted mid-sentence as his left hand started to glow a bright orange, giving of a computerized chirp. He brought his hand up in front of him, and with a swift motion of his fingers, brought up the main display of his omni-tool, which encapsulated his forearm in its holographic interface. He took one look at the information scrolling across its transparent screen before he let a heavy breath out through his nose.

“I’m sorry, excuse me… I have to take this.” Anderson sighed as he held up his hand, clearly not pleased about the interruption before moving two fingers to his ear and walking off to the side in order to get some privacy.

“Madam President,” Forty-Two spoke up, causing Twilight to jump slightly, having forgotten that the mech was even there and drawing her attention away from the Councilor. “During this meeting, I have received multiple communications from Changeling Unit Nineteen of Eighty. Director Pie requires your presence. I believe she considers her matter to be of utmost importance.”

“Okay…” Twilight nodded, thinking that if Pinkie considered something important enough to notify her about it, it probably deserved a moment of her time. “As soon as we finish up here, I should be able to set aside some time for--”

“I have also received requests for your attention from Director Applejack, Director Dash, Director Rarity, Miss Heartstrings, and Miss Silver, all marked as ‘urgent.’”

Twilight’s ear and eye twitched in sync with one another.

“Anything else?” she asked hesitantly, almost dreading the answer.

“There are one hundred and seventy-eight notifications for you of lower than urgent priority. Shall I relate them?”

Twilight set her hoof to her face with a slight moan. Clearly, getting settled in was going to be a little harder than she first thought.

“Madam President,” Anderson drew her attention again, shaking his head and looking less than pleased himself. “I’m afraid I have to end our conversation here. The Council will be reconvening shortly and I have to attend.”

“I understand, Councilor.” Twilight nodded respectfully. “I seem to have my hooves full as well.”

“I know the feeling. Don’t worry, it gets easier,” the Councilor assured her.

“Really?” Twilight looked up hopefully.

“...No.”

…

Twilight gave the human a half-lidded, incredulous look in response to his deadpan delivery, but was unable to hold it for long before she devolved into a short burst of snickering, which in turn brought the smile back to Anderson’s tired features.

“While I can’t officially give you any sort of direction, if you need someone to talk to, my door is always open.” Anderson offered his hand, which Twilight reached up to meet with her hoof, easily engaging in the shared custom. “Goodbye… and good luck.”

The Councilor turned to walk away, leaving Twilight and the black pony mech alone as the Madam President steeled herself for the tasks ahead.

And at her side, Forty-Two “blinked” for a fraction of a second.

Imagination.

That was how she did it, she realized that now.

Hours ago, Twilight had enticed her fellow Equestrians past their hesitation at the dock and into their new home by encouraging them to imagine what it could be.

She had encouraged them to dream big.

Now, her head was laying on a table in what was clearly meant to be an observation deck on New Ponyville’s third level, with over a dozen individual datapads scattered haphazardly in front of her. As she half-listened to the back and forth between her assistant and the pony they were conversing with, trying to ignore the insistent pounding behind her horn, she realized her mistake.

She should have told them to dream conservatively.

Imagination was free. Reality, on the other hoof...

“...this is also taking into account the current taxation and importation rates on the equipment that is not produced on the Citadel. Add in the required licensing fees and that should just about wrap it up. Alright, Madam President, I believe I now have a rough estimate for...” The grey-coated earth pony mare looked up from her calculations for the first time in nearly half an hour and her expression dropped at the realization that she had been addressing the top of Twilight’s head the whole time.

“I’m sorry, Miss Sparkle. Am I boring you?” Sterling Silver, the financial expert and self-appointed “Treasurer” of the Equestrians, offered in a slightly condescending tone.

“No, but you are seriously depressing me, Sterling,” Twilight shot back. “And to think, I used to enjoy doing complex math.”

There was little love lost between the former librarian and the former premier banker and bit-lender of Ponyville. While the two had not known one another well enough to have bad blood between them, the very different manners of the two intelligent mares did put them at odds socially.

Whereas Twilight liked to think of herself as open and empathetic, Sterling often came across as cold and calculating. She wasn’t hostile or overly mean, but the pony was well aware of her skills in the field of finance and often went to great lengths to make sure that everypony else knew about it as well.

Of course, since their escape from Equestria and the realization that all of her hard-won wealth was now completely irrelevant, Sterling had taken it upon herself to study the economical intricacies of Citadel Space; something for which Twilight had had no time for and thus made Sterling (unfortunately) invaluable in the crisis which Twilight now found herself mired in.

“The mathematics are not the issue, Miss Sparkle.” Sterling shook her head, her manner entirely businesslike. “The issue is that we are attempting to build an economy within an established galactic financial system utterly from scratch. This will not happen overnight and it certainly will not happen with ease.”

“Yes... I have come to this realization several times in the last two hours!” Twilight snapped, lifting her head before she took a breath.

Sterling Silver held back another biting comment, clearly taking notice of the unicorn’s testy expression and keeping quiet until Twilight had taken a few breaths.

“Okay... Bottom line...” Twilight tried to relax, thinking that perhaps it might not be as bad as she feared. Perhaps she was just letting her imagination run away with her. “What do we need?”

Sterling was quiet for a moment as she set the datapad down, having painstakingly tapped out the numbers on the holographic interface to maintain an accurate accounting, and slid it across the table.

Ugh, give me an abacus and a roll of parchment any day, Twilight mused as her horn ignited in a soft violet glow, gripping the device in a gentle biotic field and maneuvering it over in front of her eyes.

…

That… was not a small number.

Or was it?

“Uhhh, just for the sake of reference, how would you quantify the exchange rate? A hundred credits to a bit? A thousand credits?” the unicorn asked hopefully.

“In terms of value it’s probably best to imagine it as a one-to-one ratio,” Sterling offered, her distaste of the sordid affair tinting her otherwise professional tone. “And this is just to get started. I haven’t even begun to figure in long-term expenses.”

Twilight’s biotic projection halted, dropping the datapad to the table with a deafening clatter.

“Th-that’s insane!” Twilight set two hooves together nervously, leaning forward. “There have to be corners we can cut. Some way to make it less--”

“Twilight, we are building a society literally from the ground up. Aside from basic amenities like food and maintaining utilities to the district, we also need to invest in multiple venues with the goal of generating revenue.” The mare raised a hoof and set it down forcefully on the table to punctuate her point. “We need income, Madam President, and the only way to do that is to get money we don’t have into the hooves of the ponies who need it to start businesses.”

Twilight set her face into her hooves as she felt her entire world start crumbling around her.

Everypony needed something.

Pinkie Pie had been adamant in her claim of one of the warehouses on the bottom level, assuring Twilight that her “research station,” and the accompanying results of her “research,” would play a vital role in establishing New Ponyville. She assured her that she could get started (on what exactly, Twilight was still unsure) as soon as they could secure some basic equipment.

She had Pinkie give Forty-Two a list of what she needed.

Meanwhile, Applejack was worried about food and other supplies while Rainbow’s primary concern was about security for their new home after seeing the admittedly-lacking living conditions of their neighboring districts. These were both reasonable concerns, but Rarity (for some reason that eluded Twilight completely) remained absolutely convinced that the Equestrians needed to place fashion as a top priority.

They had all of their needs added to Forty-Two’s list.

And everywhere she had went, there were ponies approaching her, not sure who else to speak to given their simple structure of authority. So many things were going to be required in order to make New Ponyville livable, and by extension, the Equestrians viable as a species. And everypony had a different idea on how to go about it.

When Forty-Two gave his list to Sterling, Twilight was only beginning to realize just how difficult this was going to be.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she kept her eyes closed as she asked the most important question. “What are our options?”

“Well, first I should point out that we are not completely lacking in revenue,” Sterling assured her, searching through the datapads for a moment before bringing up one in particular. “Over the past few days, with the press hovering like flies around the refugee camp, there have been quite a few well-wishers from across Citadel Space who have taken an interest in us. These individuals have been kind enough to supply a steady stream of private donations to the financial account the Council provided for our use. It’s only about a quarter of what we need, but it is certainly better than nothing. At the very least we won’t have to worry about going hungry before we get our hooves dug in.”

“It’s certainly refreshing to see,” Twilight agreed, grateful that there were at least some souls in the galaxy who were capable of unbidden generosity. “And to raise the rest?”

“I’ve already found a financial institution that is willing to take a chance on us.” Sterling sifted through the datapads again, her frustration evident as she apparently shared Twilight’s desire for a more pony-friendly method of organization. Eventually finding what she was looking for, she pointed it out to the unicorn before continuing. “Minerva’s Trust: a relatively small human and salarian co-op. They have thirteen years of experience in interspecies banking and a reputation for taking on high-risk cases. They see our potential and have offered to bankroll us with a starting loan. While you were in session with the Council, I went ahead and made contact with them and have read over their contracts. Based on everything I’ve seen, it looks like it’s on the up and up.”

“What’s the catch?” Twilight asked, crossing her forelegs and waiting for the hammer to fall.

“The interest rate is seventeen percent; a little higher than galactic business standard but considering that we have no credit history, it’s not out of the question. Also, we would need to provide collateral.”

“Collateral?” Twilight shook her head. “Sterling, we don’t have anything to use as collateral! All we own is this district and the fur on our backs. What are we supposed to give them?”

“I would have to disagree, Madam President. We do happen to have a sizable number of working Changeling Class drone units. I’ve done some research, and have determined them to have no small amount of value on the open market,” Sterling stated quickly. “A dozen units, offered up as insurance, should be enough to secure the loan.”

“I feel compelled to speak out against this plan,” Forty-Two spoke up suddenly as he moved around the table to Twilight’s side. For a brief moment, a bit of hostile inflection shone through his purposefully monotone voice, drawing an odd look from Sterling before she shook it off and elaborated on her point.

“The drones will be deactivated and placed into a secure safety deposit vault here on the Citadel where nopony can touch them. Once we’ve paid off at least forty-five percent of the loan and established a good payment history, they’ll be returned to us,” the grey mare explained. “It’s a win-win for us, Twilight. This is a perfect chance to built up good credit with minimal risk to our assets.”

“Well, I suppose--”

“Now hold on just one applebuckin’ minute!” Twilight was suddenly jarred from her considerations as she recognized the accented drawl of one of her “Directors.” “Don’t tell me yer actually thinkin’ about goin’ through with this, Twi.”

“Applejack? Were you eavesdropping on us?” Twilight lightly scolded the orange mare as she cantered up to the two ponies’ (and one mech’s) financial summit.

“Nope. Ah was just walkin’ by when Ah overheard this bean counter tryin’ to sell ya’ll some snake oil,” Applejack told her, her expression far from cheerful.

“We are in a meeting!” Sterling stressed, seeming far more upset at the farm pony’s sudden appearance. The two earth ponies wore matching grimaces as they stared each other down. “And if I recall correctly, financial expertise was my special talent, not yours, Applejack.”

“That’s ‘Director’ Applejack now, Sterling.” The orange mare reached up to adjust her hat, almost like she considered it an indication of her status. “And Ah gotta say, borrowin’ money ain’t gonna do nothin’ but get us into trouble, Twi. What if we can’t pay it back? Fellas like that are called ‘loan sharks’ for a reason.”

“I beg to differ! Minerva’s Trust is a reputable business engaged in numerous legitimate financial practices,” Sterling rattled off coldly, clearly showing her displeasure. “As a species, we need this money in order to build a foundation for ourselves. Or perhaps you would prefer us to live hoof-to-mouth like a bunch of vagabonds.”

“Now, Ah never said that. It’s just that Ah have mah own ideas on how to start us out on the right hoof!” Applejack shot back. “If we need money, then we’re just gonna have to earn it. Ya’ll saw the state of the Ward when we was flyin’ over. There’s gotta be a ton of jobs we could get for all sorts of ponies; things that’ll make use of our unique strengths! And ‘sides that, it’ll help us build a reputation for bein’ hard workers, instead of holdin’ out our hooves to folks who’ll just end up takin’ advantage of us.”

“Applejack, you don’t understand. We need a lot of money, and quickly. While I like the sentiment of your idea, we simply don’t have time for it,” Twilight pointed out. “Not only that, but the ponies who find work would have to give up most of what they earned to help support the rest of the Herd; assuming we could even manage to set them up with jobs at all. And to top it all off, we would need to keep track of who’s making what and where they are at all times so that nopony goes missing. Who would coordinate all of that? Certainly not me; I have enough on my plate as it is!”

“Well, shoot, Twi! Ah’d be more than happy to handle all that stuff! It’ll be just like runnin’ a business, and Ah’ve got plenty of experience doin’ just that.” The cowpony smirked, reaching up a hoof to draw her stetson hat down across her eyes. “Just call me Applejack, Director of Labor.”

“Remind me again, ‘Director’ Applejack...” Sterling’s tone had a slight sneer to it. “How many times did I nearly have to foreclose on Sweet Apple Acres?”

“Enough!” Twilight spoke up before Applejack could retort. “Here’s an idea: Why not just do both? We can take the loan to get started, then use the wages supplemented by working ponies to pay it off even faster.”

“And that, Madam President, is why it always pays to read the fine print...” Sterling leaned back, a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she proceeded to take the air out of both ponies’ sails. “If we were to take the Director’s suggestion, and counted the workers’ earnings as revenue towards the Equestrian government, then we would be forced to classify it as taxed income. Minerva’s public policy specifically states that no loan of any kind can be paid back with tax money. It’s a common practice used to prevent scrupulous governments from paying off private debt with public funds. In our case, it means we can only acquire the loan if we agree that our only source of income comes as a direct result of that money.”

“Okay, fine!” Twilight stopped her there, becoming aware that she had begun to grind her teeth. “What if we--”

“AJ! AJ!” a young voice rang out, calling the attention of the three mares and changeling mech as a small yellow filly darted forward at a gallop directly for the orange earth pony. “Ah gotta tell ya ‘bout somethin’!”

Twilight looked up, having lost her sense of their surroundings during the meeting and joining the others in noticing the group of young ponies making their way towards them. Applejack’s younger sister, Apple Bloom, reached them moments before her fellow (former) Cutie Mark Crusaders did. Moving along with them and trying to keep up was a single, tired-looking grey pegasus mare with yellow eyes and a blond mane.

Twilight was clearly glad for the interruption as two more familiar fillies slid into place next to the youngest Apple sibling while the elder Apple gave a resigned sigh.

“What is it this time, Bloom?” she asked, her voice hinting at the fact that she had had this kind of conversation many times since arriving on the Citadel.

“There’s this big, creepy-looking buggy thing that was moving stuff all around!” Sweetie Belle spoke up before her red-maned friend could respond, feeling as though she was relating something of monumental importance. “I thought this place was supposed to be just for ponies!”

“Yeah! We should have Rainbow Dash kick its flank outta New Ponyville! Or maybe call in those ‘Seasick’ guys with the big guns!” Scootaloo said with enthusiasm.

To Twilight’s surprise, a fourth filly moved up next to Scootaloo with a much meeker expression.

“...Hi, Mom,” she said quietly, head bowed as she looked up at the mare in attendance who shared her grey fur coloring.

Now it was Sterling’s turn to sigh as she quickly put together what they were talking about based on Sweetie Belle’s description.

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, Silver Spoon. Sweetheart, don’t tell me you four were pestering a Keeper.”

“That thing was a Keeper?” Scootaloo turned her head at the realization, her eyes widening slightly. “As in, the things we were told not to mess with under any circumstances?”

The four fillies looked at each other with expressions of worry, before simultaneously uttering: “...Oops.”

Their concern was well founded. As the silent caretakers of the Citadel itself, the insectoid Keepers were as mysterious as they were antisocial. They had been present long before any other intelligent race had even set foot on the station, yet their only purpose seemed to be in maintenance and repairs. As such, it was against Citadel Law to so much as interrupt their work; a fact that was not lost on the incorrigible fillies.

“Uh... I mean, no, Mom.” Silver Spoon looked away hesitantly, as if she had been caught with her hoof in the cookie jar. “We were not pestering the creepy Keeper bug.”

Judging by the her tone and the reaction of the four to this revelation, it was almost certain that the grey earth filly meant the exact opposite of what she said.

“Goshdarnit, Apple Bloom! Didn’t Ah tell ya to pay attention when that blue lady was explainin’ this stuff back at the camp!?” Applejack started in on her sister, although Twilight’s attention was turned elsewhere as she was approached by the only other adult who appeared to be accompanying the children.

“Hi, Twilight,” she offered pleasantly.

“Hello, Ditzy,” the unicorn replied, smiling, and glad to see that the mare’s eyes were still looking straight ahead. While in Equestria’s system, her striking yellow eyes were unfortunately marred by a glitch that resulted in them being directed at odd angles; an issue that no longer plagued the former mailmare after she had been freed.

Twilight then leaned to the side, taking note of the almost a dozen or so other small pony forms that had formed a cluster behind the blond pony, seeming to be following her around. “What are they doing with you?”

“Oh...” Ditzy looked over towards the gathered fillies and foals, including the four who were now the center of a stern “talking to” from the other two adult mares. “Well, you see, not everypony was as lucky as Apple Bloom or Silver Spoon to have a direct relative of their own... It broke my heart to see that they literally have nopony to look after them, so I took it upon myself to remedy that. Um... I hope that’s alright with you.”

Twilight smiled warmly, as an issue she was not even aware of was brought to her attention and summarily dismissed. “Of course, Ditzy. I’m glad that you thought about that. With everything else going on, it’s a blessing that somepony stopped to think about them.”

“Oh, don’t mention it.” Ditzy beamed, blushing slightly as she and Twilight turned to look at the small herd, a laugh running through them as the former Cutie Mark Crusaders hesitantly explained what amounted to “pestering” the Keeper. “It’s really nice, actually. Dinky’s never had so many foals her age to play with. It’s just... rather hard to keep track of all of them at once, you know?”

“I think... we might just be able to help you with that.” Twilight smiled, glad that there was at least one problem she could fix immediately without needing a credit line. “Forty-Two?”

“Contacting units Twelve of Twenty and Eight of Ten.” The changeling didn’t miss a beat, wirelessly sending instructions to his fellow drones with a few blinks of his antennae. “Done. Miss Doo, when these two units arrive, they will act to follow your commands. You may make use of them as you need.”

“Oh, thank you so much! That will certainly help me out.” The grey pegasus smiled, realizing what it was that was being offered and grateful that she was about to have some extra hooves in keeping up with the young ones. “So... if you don’t mind me prying, that is... what exactly are you ladies discussing?”

The unicorn sighed, suddenly reminded of the situation.

“Trying to figure out how we’re going to pay for everything,” she admitted, shaking her head. “Starting up New Ponyville is going to take a lot of credits.”

“Oh, I have an idea!” Ditzy spoke up, her bubbly tone drawing Twilight’s attention while her next words drew everypony else’s. “I’ve heard there have been plenty of folks out there who’ve donated money to our cause already... What if we actually went out and started asking?”

“And the last thing you need to do now is to get wrapped up with...” Sterling paused mid-scold, her ears perking up as she turned towards Ditzy. “Excuse me? What was that?”

“Yeah! The nice blue lady at the camp said a lot of ponies were sending money because they saw how bad off we were and wanted to help,” Sweetie Belle offered, seeing a way out of their current tongue-lashing by completely changing the subject. “And some of that was just from seeing how cute we were.”

“And to think, we weren’t even trying!” Scootaloo added. “We can look way cuter!”

“How could anypony say no to these faces?” Apple Bloom, Sweetie, and Scootaloo leaned into one another, their eyes and expressions suddenly turning sad and pleading... The yellow filly even managed to throw in her special lip quivering maneuver, demonstrating her years of practice in manipulating her elders.

“And don’t forget: Charitable donations are non-taxable,” Silver Spoon noted sagely.

The three other Crusaders ceased their demonstration to look at their newest member with puzzled expressions.

“Well they are...” the young grey earth pony admitted, shrugging her shoulders.

“Apple Bloom! That’s a terrible idea!” Applejack shook her head. “Do ya’ll really wanna get yer cutie mark in askin’ fer handouts?”

“Well, duh; ‘course not. Cutie marks ain’t real no more,” the youngest Apple offered in a flat, chiding tone, which did elicit a collected amused snicker from the gathered foals. “Ah thought ya’ll knew that by now.”

“And you, Silver Spoon!” Sterling bore down on her daughter, clearly disgusted at the thought. “I don’t remember raising you to be a deadbeat, young lady.”

“It’s not really begging, Mom.” The younger filly, who could easily have been mistaken for a smaller, younger version of her mother, tilted her nose up at her in a rebuke of her words. “It’s emotionally-induced, voluntary contribution to a greater cause.”

Twilight had to hide a small chuckle at the way Sterling’s cheeks flushed at the foal’s observation, glad that the fillies had come along to offer the much-needed distraction.

“Madam President,” Forty-Two suddenly spoke up, sounding uncharacteristically concerned before he seemed to remember himself and took on a more neutral tone. “Units Twelve of Twelve and Seventeen of Twenty are reporting a disturbance at New Ponyville’s docking area.”

This caught both Sterling and Applejack’s attention as well, as Twilight turned to face the changeling. “What sort of disturbance?”

“Opening a direct audio feed,” Forty-Two stated simply, the green glow of his eyes thinning to a single horizontal line that jittered around, accompanied by a burst of static before the feed was established. Right away, a strange, halting voice could be heard emanating from the mech.

“Get out of my way... you mechanical beasts...!” came a frustrated, alien tone that paused every few of words to take what sounded like a gasping breath of air. Not only that, it was as if the being was also speaking through an electronic filter. “You are trespassing... on my property!”

“A volus?” Twilight tilted her head inquisitively as she listened.

She had met several of the rotund, pony-sized, exosuit-wearing aliens in the last few days, mostly in support positions at the Council Tower. However, she had never heard one speak with such obvious anger, and Twilight found herself wondering what could have worked this particular volus up to the point where even the sounds of his methane-based breathing apparatus seemed angry.

“This facility is not currently accepting visitors. Please stand by while administration is notified to resolve this matter,” came another voice, clipped and unfeeling, clearly belonging to one of the equine changeling mechs as it spoke a selected response from among its array of prerecorded reactions.

“I said... let me in!”

“Administration has been contacted and notified of your issue. Please remain patient.”

“Good...! Tell your masters to come down here in person...! Tell them that Jex Kailer is here to officially... serve them a notice of eviction...! If they think they can cheat me out of--”

The alien’s voice cut off as Forty-Two’s crystalline eyes regained their full luminosity. “Madam President, the drones are detecting an unusually high level of aggression from the intruder’s vocal patterns and body language. If the situation is not resolved quickly, subject Jex Kailer will be identified as ‘hostile.’”

Applejack and Sterling, both realizing exactly what that meant, looked to Twilight with worried expressions and were equally surprised to see how the Madam President’s eyes had hardened.

There was a moment of troubling silence as Twilight looked back over her shoulder towards the foals, some of whom were looking a bit intimidated by what they had heard.

“Madam President?” Forty-Two asked again as the violet unicorn held her silence.

“Twi...” Applejack appealed, which drew a shake of the head from the unicorn.

“Tell the drones to stand down, but do not let him into the district. I’m on my way,” Twilight stated, huffing softly.

“Ya’ll need help, Twi?” Applejack asked, stepping forward.

“No. Forty-Two and I will deal with him.”

“Twilight... err... Madam President,” Sterling hesitated, the fire in the unicorn’s eyes setting her back slightly. “I know this takes precedence, but I still need your approval to move forward with the loan...”

“Not now, Sterling. I’ll let you know my decision once I’ve had more time to consider our options,” Twilight dismissed her as she went from a walk to a quick canter. “Forty-Two, let’s go.”

Forty-Two’s eyes blinked out for just a moment.

The changeling, its update finished in a fraction of a second, flared its nano-fiber wings and lifted itself from the ground with ease, propelling forward after Twilight as the unicorn broke into a gallop.

“Extranet search complete. Parsing results,” Forty-Two stated as he and the Madam President continued down the stairways to the base level of New Ponyville, the dock now visible with two changelings clearly blocking the path.

“What can you tell me about him?” Twilight asked, her frustration showing through in her words.

“Jex Kailer. Volus. Male. Born 2155, Earth Standard, on volus colony world: Talis Fia. Occupation: Colonial Trader and Investor,” the changeling rattled off quickly. “Owner of Expanding Reaches investment firm.”

“I’m going to need more than his biography, Forty-Two.”

“Expanding Reaches has been investigated multiple times since its founding for unethical business practices,” her assistant relayed. “Charges of unlawful intimidation and misrepresentation have been leveled primarily towards the firm, yet remain unsubstantiated. Mr. Kailer himself has never been personally accused of wrongdoing.”

“Anything else?”

“Affirmative. Mr. Kailer is specifically listed as a primary competitive bidder on District Twelve-Eighty-Six’s auction block. At the time of the Council’s seizure of the property, he was listed as the highest bidder with no new bids expected.”

“Perfect...” Twilight grumbled as she took a steadying breath, holding her head high and approaching the two changeling units at the entryway to get her first look at the black and white-suited volus.

Her already testy mood worsened once she could hear the incensed alien’s voice for herself.

“How dare you...! Do you have any idea... who I am!?”

“Again we recommend you remain patient while administration is en route,” one of the mechs stated blankly, showing no reaction at all as it stood motionless in the squat alien’s path.

“Bah!” The volus threw his three-fingered gauntleted hand in the air as he turned, the white glowing eyes of his exosuit blinking occasionally while the red circle between them denoted the use of his speakers. “I could expect... more intelligent discourse... with a krogan!”

“Administration has arrived,” the emotionless drone said as it and its companion took note of Twilight’s approach and stepped aside. “We thank you for your patience, and hope you have a nice day.”

Seizing the opportunity, the volus all but stomped forward.

“It’s about time...!” Jex Kailer pointed a stubby finger menacingly in Twilight’s direction, his tone translating the glare that must have been hiding behind the cold material of his suit’s mask. “At least I got the clanless in charge... and not some worthless delegate...”

Twilight took a short breath, forcing a smile.

“That’s right, I’m in charge here. You can call me Twilight Sparkle,” she greeted him with forced cordiality while she tried to suppress her urge to respond to the pompous alien’s aggression with some of her own. “Welcome to New Ponyville. I understand you’re having some problems?”

“I know who you are, Clanless...!” The volus all but spit the name through his breathing apparatus. “Anybody with an extranet or... News Net connection knows... who you are...! The Council’s latest... pet project!”

Twilight’s ear flicked as she let the faux smile fall, watching the volus intently with her violet eyes as he continued to vent his spleen (or whatever it was that volus had in place of a spleen).

“I am Jex Kailer... and this is MY property! Not... New ‘whatever you are trying to call it...’” the alien stated clearly (or at least as clearly as he was able). “I am here to inform you... that you are trespassing...! And if you and your fellow clanless vermin... don’t vacate this area in six galactic standard hours... I will be taking immediate legal action...!”

Twilight’s attempt at diplomatic resolution was gone from her expression as she prepared to hold her own against the volus.

“Now listen, Mr. Jex,” she started, trying to remain civil as she countered his argument with the facts. “In case you weren’t made aware, the Council acquired this property through perfectly legal means, and has seen fit to designate it as a protected habitat for my people.”

“Nothing but legal parlor tricks...!” Jex countered. “I paid a fortune for this district...! It belongs to ME!”

“As I understand it, your credits were refunded before the bidding even ended,” Twilight dismissed his claim outright, wondering if the rotund investor was even aware of this fact. To his credit, Jex didn’t even miss a beat.

“That changes nothing, Clanless... I will have what’s rightfully mine... and if you refuse to give it to me... I assure you...” The volus stepped right up to Twilight, as a member of the only species in the galaxy that could technically “stand up” to an Equestrian. His plated face was close enough to hers that she could smell the methane leaking from behind the mask. “I will do everything in my ability... to make you regret it...”

Standing just off to her side, Forty-Two watched, contemplating what was taking place as a tense silence filled the air.

Author's Notes:

Directive Decision
A Capital Idea

The Herd requires monetary funding in order to settle in New Ponyville. Basic necessities such as food and utilities are already covered by donations from sympathetic individuals and organizations, but any additional expenses put towards development will have to come from another outside source. There are three mutually exclusive possibilities.

Sterling’s Option - Minerva’s Trust, an established and reputable colonial finance business, has offered to loan the Equestrian Herd starting capital. This will allow immediate funds to be available and will alleviate many of the concerns of settling New Ponyville. Sterling also assures us that once the Herd stabilizes, repaying the loan should be no trouble, despite the high interest rate. However, collateral will be required to secure the loan, in the form of a dozen changeling mechs. These mechs will be removed from the current stock, deactivated, and placed in a Minerva’s Trust private storage vault until a sufficient amount of the loan can be repaid.

Applejack’s Option - True to her nature, Director Applejack has opted that we “earn our keep.” Tayseri Ward seems to have no shortage of work available with the reconstruction underway, and the unique talents of the Equestrian Herd may prove useful in this process. Director Applejack has volunteered to coordinate and facilitate this aspect of our emergent social structure under the title “Director of Labor.” As her pre-Exodus record indicates, she is certainly dependable enough to perform this task. This option, while the most predictably reliable in the long run, also means that New Ponyville will have much less starting capital to work with in the beginning.

Ditzy’s Option - Ditzy Doo, who has taken on the role of caretaker and surrogate mother for many of the Herd’s foals, has suggested that the Equestrians actively begin solicitation of donations from the public at large. While the Herd has graciously accepted such donations since its arrival at the Citadel, leading to our beginning funds, open solicitation of charity has the potential to unlock a great deal of credits early on. As holds true with the nature of charity, this money will not need to be repaid. This is only a temporary solution, however, and by no means a guaranteed source of income, which could be problematic if future prospects fail to pan out.

Choice
The Volus Investor

Jex Kailer, a volus entrepreneur, is clearly unhappy with the Council declaring imminent domain and invalidating his bid to purchase the district that is now New Ponyville. His bullying and aggressive posturing seems mirrored by known business practices involving intimidation and other ruthless tactics. His assertions of authority are clearly baseless and even after being made aware that we have been informed of the current legal situation, he continues to make claims of ownership.

The Law and the Council are clearly on our side and probability of Twilight acquiescing to Jex’s demands is 0.0001%. While there is no immediate threat from Kailer, chances are that he is still going to be a problem for us.

Running predictive model of the Madam President’s reaction.

Conciliatory: “Perhaps we can come to an agreement.”
Stoic: “We know our rights; you have no authority here.”
Retaliatory: “Your complaint is noted. Now leave.”

VOTING IS CLOSED

::Results::

A Capital Idea

——————

Director Applejack's Option: 84.6%

Sterling's Option: 12%

Ditzy's Option: 3.4%

====

The Volus Investor

——————

Conciliatory Response: 17.3%

Stoic Response: 71.9%

Retaliatory Response: 10.8%

The Madam President endorses hard work and perseverance over more easily obtained immediate benefits.

The Equestrians shall not be bullied into submission and do not lash out when threatened.

Arc 1 - Part 2: Clearing a Path

“Is that so?” Twilight Sparkle, Madam President of the Equestrian Herd, allowed her expression to fall flat, clearly unimpressed by the alien’s posturing. “Well, in that case...”

The metallic changeling drone watched as the purple mare shifted her weight, her haunches set back to the cold metal floor and tail brushing around to her side and out of the way. She pulled up her forelegs and folded them across her chest as she looked straight into the optics of Jex’s suit. Her voice was as steady as her decision.

“...no.”

The volus stepped back, haughtily raising his chin in the pony’s direction. “And just what... is that supposed to mean...?”

“It means no,” Twilight leaned forwards, her tone surprisingly even. “This district belongs to us, and I’m not about to give it over to you just because you claim it as your own. Quite frankly, I don’t recognize your authority in this matter.”

“Do I look like I care... what you recognize...!? I paid for this property...!” Jex shook his head, his outrage seeming to grow in the face of Twilight’s calm defiance. “You’re barely more than... an animal...! I don’t think you comprehend... how many credits it takes... to acquire something like that...! Do you know how long I’ve waited...!? How many other buyers I had to...”

“I’m sorry your plans didn’t work out the way you wanted,” Twilight stated before the alien could resume speaking after a long breath, although her tone and expression indicated it was a hollow apology.

“BAH!” Jex flailed his arm in the air in a dismissive manner as he proceeded to pace up and down in front of the unicorn. “Spare me your feeble platitudes...! You clanless creatures have no business... being on the Citadel...! At least the Quarians have the decency... to keep to themselves on their... grubby flotilla...! But you... You show up at the station... shamelessly posing for the cameras... and in less than a week... you think that the galaxy... owes you so much...!? Hiding behind the Council... and some ridiculous wildlife law...!? Pathetic...! You’re no… different from... the humans...! Wanting... what you… never earned...! I’ve... I’ve had...”

The volus seemed to be struggling to speak, the interruptions caused by his breathing apparatus growing more frequent even as the gasps grew shorter in length. Taking a step back, Jex Kailer hunched forwards, the red light on his faceplate blinking intermittently as he attempted to recompose himself.

Twilight remained in place, her forelegs crossed over her chest as she watched him impassively like a parent waiting out a child’s tantrum.

“Are you done?”

“You... impertinent...” Jex managed before the speaker cut out again, perhaps some sort of safeguard in the environment suit, and the ammonia-breathing volus leaned forward, hands on his hips as he struggled to catch his breath.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Twilight sighed, unfolding her forelegs and leaning forward, returning to all fours. “Mr. Kailer, I apologize if I sound insensitive, but I really don’t care what you have to say.”

The volus glared at her wordlessly, whether it was from the fact that he was still catching his breath or because he was absorbing what she said, Twilight wasn’t sure. Regardless, she pressed on.

“New Ponyville is now the property of the Equestrian Herd, which I represent. My primary concern is for the wellbeing of the ponies that are now living in this district. So you can rant and rave until your ammonia tank is exhausted, but we are staying right here. It’s just that simple.”

The alien investor glared at the mare, although she somehow doubted that the illuminated plastic lenses of his suit translated his expression adequately.

“Do you have... any idea... who you are dealing with...?” Jex seemed to be teetering on the edge of unadulterated rage, clearly unused to being so bluntly denied. “Do you know... what I could do... to you and your precious... ‘Equestrian Herd’...!?”

“I’m afraid I don’t, to be honest,” Twilight pointed out, her eyes betraying no sense of being intimidated. “But by all means, feel free to elaborate.”

Jex raised a hand, one of the claw-like fingers directed at the pony as if he wished he could smite her where she stood. He took a single, large breath, preparing to give his reply, when he unexpectedly paused, slowly turning his head to look at the shiny black mech standing just a few feet away.

The mech was standing impassively, completely motionless, yet as the volus observed, its green crystalline eyes were trained directly on him.

“Oh... I get it...” Jex’s voice was calmer now, bearing no hint of emotion save for an undercurrent of simmering distaste as he slowly lowered his arm. “Do you really think... that I’m stupid...?”

“Thus far, you have done nothing to dissuade me from the idea,” Twilight snarked at him, although she was internally cautious of the sudden change in the alien’s demeanor. It was too sudden to have been a result of him realizing that his shouting was getting him nowhere. No; this was a tactical withdrawal, which signified that he had surely taken notice of the Madam President’s trump card.

“Perhaps I misjudged you...” Jex shook his head, although his tone hardly sounded like an apology. “However... Just because the Council... gave this district to you... doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way...”

His posturing had grown less aggressive, as had his tone and the nature of his remarks. All sure signs to Twilight that the volus had realized that, as per her instructions, Forty-Two had been recording the entire encounter.

“I think it would benefit you… to find another place to settle... The Wards can be... a very dangerous place for the unwary...” Jex told Twilight with a defined degree of condescension in his tone. “As unfortunate as it is... bad things happen... to innocent beings... all the time...”

And in a tone barely low enough for her to hear, Jex delivered his last line.

“And often... when they least... expect it...”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed dangerously, a clear sign that he had struck a nerve.

“Is that a threat, Mr. Kailer?”

“Of course not, Madam President...” The volus shook his head, though the faux-saccharine nature of his response clearly indicated the opposite. “I am merely... stating a fact... I’m hardly the type... to go around threatening... endangered animals...”

“I would hope so...” Twilight scowled, taking note of how the alien all but spat out her title, before she followed it up with an ultimatum. “And just so we’re clear: If you or any of your associates ever try something like this again, I promise you will regret it.”

“I see...” Jex shrugged his squat shoulders, far from intimidated by what he determined to be a threat as baseless as his accusations. “In that case... I wish you nothing... but the best of luck... in your business...”

He then turned his back on the pony and her assistant, steadily marching back to the edge of the docks, where his transport awaited him.

“Especially considering... that you shall be having... none of mine... And the same goes... for my friends... in the banking industry... and the Ward markets... Good day to you...”

Twilight’s eyes didn’t waver as she watched Jex move up to his shuttle; a gaudily-colored transport that appeared to be specially modified for his species. The door in the side swung upwards automatically while a series of steps extended from the lower edge, allowing the short-statured volus to easily clamber inside.

As the door closed with a hiss and the shuttle’s eezo-powered engine started up, causing the vehicle to rise smoothly into the air, Twilight’s posture slumped, and she let out a heavy sigh as she closed her eyes and considered her position.

Just as she thought: Jex was nothing but a bully. More than willing to threaten and throw his weight around when he thought he had the upper hoof, but quick to change his tone at the first signs of a challenge, and the chance that he could be punished by someone with actual authority.

However, as she had to reluctantly admit, he was also cunning enough to cover his tracks. Going over what had been said in her mind (something she would surely double-check Forty-Two’s recording to make sure of) he had never made any direct implication of violence. Instead, he chose to hide behind a wall of insinuations and thinly-veiled insults when he realized the dangerous line he was walking.

She also had no doubt of his intention to make good on his last promise, but Twilight wasn’t particularly bothered by it.

He was not the sort of creature that her people needed to get wrapped up with in any way. And anyone who would so readily resort to such deplorable and underhoofed tactics to get what they wanted wouldn’t have found their business welcome in New Ponyville regardless, no matter how many credits they offered.

“You know, Twilight,” her assistant offered, his voice noticeably less mechanical and taking on the more casual nature he used when there was nobody else around. “All you had to do was say the word, and I wouldn’t have hesitated to... ‘escort’ the guy back to his shuttle. Roughly, if necessary.”

Twilight let out a huff of amusement as she watched the shuttle turn once it was clear of New Ponyville’s obstructing bulkheads and zip away, leaving a slight blue distortion trail behind it as it ascended into the traffic out towards the center of the Wards.

“Tempting, Forty-Two. But as much as I would like to have just sent him packing, we don’t need to create any more trouble than we already have.” The unicorn shook her head. “His claims were baseless and he knew it. If I had to guess, he was trying to intimidate us into giving him the district without a fight, and failing that, incite us into doing something he could turn to his advantage... I’m just glad I was able to keep my cool.”

“Maybe so... Still, the Volus are shrewd businessmen. He might’ve have been open to some sort of arrangement that didn’t involve him blacklisting us.”

“Not a chance in Tartarus.” Twilight said immediately, and with conviction. “We are not about to start capitulating to the demands of megalomaniacs and tyrants just because they raise their voice.”

“I understand. But I’m afraid of what might happen if Jex intends to make good on his threats,” the mech stated with certainty.

“Yeah, I kind of doubt this is the last we’ll see of him, but for now at least he’s a problem for another day.” Twilight lowered her head, using a hoof to rub the base of her horn. “I have enough of those on my plate right now.”

“For what it’s worth, Twi; I think you did the right thing,” Forty-Two offered, raising a hoof comfortingly to her shoulder.

“I wish I had your confidence...”

“Well, here’s something that might cheer you up.” Forty-Two tilted his head, his optic lights shifting to represent an expression approaching pride. “While you were talking, I managed to wirelessly datamine his omni-tool and gained access to his contact lists and employee rosters. The data has been transmitted to all changeling units, and now, should anyone working for Expanding Reaches or its affiliates set foot in New Ponyville, all units are ordered to... ‘escort’ them off the premises.”

Twilight turned on the mech, surprised by this admission, and getting the feeling that if Forty-Two had a mouth, he would be smirking deviously.

“Just in case,” the robotic pony added, clearly pleased with himself.

“Forty-Two...” Twilight smiled, shaking her head as she once again found herself grateful for the artificial intelligence’s aid. “I don’t know how I would do this without you.”

“Me neither.”

The blatant smugness of the declaration only served to help relax Twilight, finding herself once again reminded of just how her new assistant was so much like her old one... for all that was worth.

The Madam President then nodded curtly, intent to return to the task at hoof: getting New Ponyville situated.

“Alright, so what’s next on the agenda?” Twilight asked, feeling reassured as she turned and started back towards the entrance of the district, the mech falling into step behind her as the two other changelings that had been there the whole time resumed their task of guarding the docks.

“There would seem to be some conflicting claims between several families involving the utility layout,” Forty-Two related, masking his personality once again as he followed his mistress back into their new home. “In that regard, Miss Drops has come up with a proposal for the living arrangements that you may wish to look at...”

Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 9 A.E

Present location: New Ponyville, Administration Level

Status: idle

Forty-Two of Fifty stood stock still as he had for hours, his eyes dark and apparently inactive, beside the automatic doorway that led into Twilight Sparkle’s personal apartment. As much as the changeling would have preferred to be inside the apartment to keep watch over the leader of the Equestrian Herd, her insistence on privacy during the all too short periods of rest she allowed herself were both understandable and easily accommodated.

If Forty-Two had one envy of organic beings, it was the ability to sleep. The ability to completely tune out the outside world for hours at a time, free from life’s constant struggles, only to wake up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.

It was one of the few organic traits that he could not experience.

Sure, he could enter a state of hibernation; set to reactivate on a timer, audio-cue, or even voice command, but it wasn’t the same. In any case, it was a moot point. Since the meeting with Jex Kailer three solar days earlier, Forty-Two felt that anything less than constant vigilance opened up the risk of something getting past his notice. Such a scenario was simply unacceptable, as the wellbeing of his mistress was top priority.

And yet, it was times like this, when the constant barrage of demands for the Madam President’s attention mercifully abated, that Forty-Two could allow himself to devote a portion of his processes to reviewing the events of the past few days. Such reflections allowed him to keep in mind just how much weight stood on the shoulders of the mare he faithfully served.

After the first supply shipments had been received and accounted for, Twilight had issued her decision allowing Applejack to go ahead with her plan to put ponies to work, much to Sterling’s chagrin. The Treasurer of the Herd may not have been altogether pleased with the choice, but she had at least been amicable enough to offer her services to Director Applejack in maintaining the accounts of her initiative. To their credit, there was no shortage of volunteers, particularly among the Herd’s stallions, who wanted to contribute. Surely the promise of doubling food rations to those who volunteered helped, but still, it was the thought that counted.

Unfortunately, the initial returns had been… lacking.

Applejack had been trying her hardest, but the foremen of the crews throughout Tayseri Ward were being cautious. Some cited that the ponies had no previous experience that could be verified, while others were put off by the now well-circulated information that the Herd was protected by various wildlife laws. Regardless of what the ponies’ individual strengths could offer, many of those in charge of hiring were concerned that associating with the new species on the Citadel opened them up to an uncomfortable degree of liability.

The Director of Labor insisted that all that was needed was time to find someone who could appreciate their talents, but as Sterling was quick to point out in nearly every fiscal meeting with the Madam President: time was not a luxury they had in great supply.

Neither, it seemed, were credits.

Their initial funds were already dwindling as food and basic necessities were acquired, along with approved requests for raw materials or equipment needed to get a few ponies to start setting up shops. There was still a slow stream of private donations helping in that respect, but it was petering off little by little as time went on and was certainly far from reliable.

On that note, Forty-Two found himself reminiscing; datafiles long since archived to antiquity opening randomly as he remembered his formative years on the Epona Estate.

This never would have been a problem in those happier times.

All it would have taken was one sad look from either of his beloved granddaughters, and Lord President Solarius would have poured a planet’s worth of resources into helping a newly-discovered species in need.

If only...

“Dozing on the job, Forty-Two?”

The mech’s eyes immediately lit up, resuming their full illumination as he shut down all of the archived files now flittering through his digital mind and spent a few nanoseconds berating his lapse in attention. Now that he was fully aware of his surroundings, he realized that the door to Twilight’s apartment had slid open, allowing her to pass him unnoticed and situate herself right in front of him.

He couldn’t let himself fall into doing that again... especially now that he had somepony actually depending on him after so long.

“Not at all, I’m completely alert!” Forty-Two offered in a brash tone, offering no hint of the momentary internal conflict as he calculated the best way to react. “Always on guard! Ever vigilant!”

The changeling’s shoulder then slumped and he drooped his head, his eyes winking out as his speakers emitted a slight beeping sound that emulated snoring.

Such behavior might have seemed incredibly bizarre for a synthetic being, regardless of its intentions, and indeed, was not something the mech would have considered normal practice during his time of service in the Equestria Facility. Yet, ever willing to go to any length in assisting his mistress, Forty-Two found that speaking and behaving more in line with what Twilight used to expect from Spike, the virtual entity based on his own processes that served her within the system, did a great deal towards easing her into her new position.

The transparent antic had the desired effect, eliciting a soft, much-needed laugh from Twilight for a moment before Forty-Two’s eyes lit up again, looking her over and making out minute details about her appearance.

In particular, he noticed how she still looked tired in spite of an uninterrupted six hours of rest, with visible grey lines under her eyes that marred her otherwise amused expression.

“Hard night’s sleep, Twi?”

“N-no, I’m fine,” she answered quickly with a wave of her hoof. “It’s just this blasted twenty-hour solar day and the perpetual light cycle in the Wards. Even when I turn all of my own lights off, it’s like I know in the back of my mind it’s still ‘daytime’ out here.”

Forty-Two observed her mannerisms: The slight tick of an ear, the way her withers and tail twitched, a quickened heart-rate, an eagerness to explain away her condition... These things were not just the result of a few hours’ lost sleep.

The mech made a note in his list of priorities to investigate further at a later time, as the first matter on the day’s agenda was superseded by an automatic door on the far side of the building flashing green and then opening, followed by the stomping of hooves thundering across the metallic floors of the building’s foyer. The noise heralded the arrival of a very irate-looking accountant as she slid to a halt, not bothering with pleasantries before saying what was on her mind.

“Madam President!” Sterling Silver glared, her mane something of a mess as she panted slightly, probably having rushed straight there from her office in the newly-opened “Administration” building next door. “Executive authority aside, you can’t simply do what you like without consulting me first!”

“I just woke up, Sterling.” Twilight, clearly surprised by the approach, tilted her head in a bemused fashion. “I know I’m still new to this ‘Head of the Herd’ thing, but do I really need to consult you about what I decide to have for breakfast?”

Sterling seemed ready to speak up again before remembering herself, taking a deep breath and pushing her recently acquired black-rimmed glasses back up her snout.

“This is no laughing matter, Twilight,” Sterling started again in a more reasonable voice. “We can’t be throwing what few resources we have away like this!”

“What? Do you think we splurged on the alfalfa and oats?” Twilight let out an annoyed sigh, clearly having already lost whatever good humor her night’s sleep and short break with Forty-Two provided. “I told you, I know we’re tight on money but we can’t get by on just hay! I’ve already had to deal with complaints about the lack of fruits and vegetables and--”

“I’m not talking about food!” Sterling stomped a hoof. “I’m talking about the eight metric tons of technical equipment, twelve hundred kilos of Element Zero, assorted raw metallic resources, and the bulk purchase of colonial grade omni-tools that have all been delivered to the lower levels over the last two days! I just got the bill!”

Twilight recoiled, her ears folded down with a worried expression on her face. Sterling didn’t have any of those datapads she was using for record keeping with her, but even without them, her list sounded dangerously expensive on its own.

“What’s all that for?”

“...You mean to tell me that you didn’t know?” Sterling sounded suspicious, as if doubtful that this had been done without the unicorn’s knowledge. “I’ve been keeping track of every request for funding from everypony who wants to try opening up their own business interests, but somepony has been tapping directly into the Herd’s account without any approval and it has completely thrown off my budget!”

Twilight’s eyes widened in realization. Only herself and five other ponies, as well as Sterling, had direct access to the species’ financial account, and she already had a pretty good idea of who was responsible.

“Technical equipment.”

“Yes!”

“Delivered to the lower levels?”

“That’s right.”

“Care of ‘Sugar Cubed Technologies’?”

“So you do know about this!” Sterling’s glare became more accusatory as Forty-Two lowered the sensitivity of his auditory sensors just in time to avoid the oncoming outburst from the pony whose face was now flushing crimson and whose eye had begun to twitch.

“PINKIIIIIEEEEE!!!”

Sugar Cubed Technologies (or, as the makeshift sign over the door read: Sugar³ Tech) was situated inside the largest of the warehouses on the lowest level of New Ponyville’s shelf-like structure. With an unassuming boxy facade that fell back into the bulkhead under the shelf right above it, the ramp leading down into the newly re-purposed “freight holding” facility could have been easily overlooked by any of the other ponies who were going about their business, sorting through the supplies that were still being distributed to the rest of the Herd.

Twilight didn’t mean to be rude as she ignored the occasional wave or calling of her name, trotting at a steady pace towards that one specific warehouse, but she had to deal with this issue immediately. With everything else going on, nopony had paused to think that the manic former party-pony of Equestria might still need supervision.

“What could that mare be thinking!?” Twilight shook her head, trying not to grit her teeth as she steeled herself.

“According to her pre-Exodus records, it may be a futile effort to apply logic to Director Pie’s actions, Madam President,” Forty-Two chirped, having reverted to his “professional” tone now that the two were out in public.

Twilight didn’t respond to this insight as the pair turned into and started down the ramp leading to the inside of the warehouse. At the bottom of the ramp was a set of double doors, in front of which a changeling mech was standing guard. In an alcove slightly off to the side was a desk that had not been there days earlier when Pinkie had toured the building with the Madam President while she petitioned her for its use.

And behind that desk sat a mare, but not just any mare, as Twilight was surprised to see that it was somepony she instantly recognized, yet hardly expected.

It certainly wasn’t Pinkie Pie, as the unicorn, clearly enthralled by the datapad held carefully in her hooves, wore a pair of purple tinted goggles over her horn, nestled between a rich blue mane which offered a contrast to her pearly white coat.

“Vinyl?” Twilight realized, having to rack her brain to remember the former disk jockey’s real name, having been introduced to her on a few occasions, but mostly knowing her by her stage name: DJ-Pon3. “Vinyl Scratch?”

Looking up with her stunning red eyes, the mare all but jumped out from behind the desk upon realizing who had arrived.

“Hey there, Boss!” The mare grinned, moving forward to wrap the stunned purple unicorn in a sudden hug. “I’m surprised to see you here! Welcome to Sugar Cubed, bee-tee-dubs!”

“Uh... thanks,” Twilight replied awkwardly as she patted Vinyl’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you too, Vinyl. But... what are you doing here?”

“Oh! Check it!” Vinyl stepped back, making a grand gesture with one hoof. “I’ve totally upgraded from lowly record spinner! Standing before you is Vinyl Scratch: Acoustic and Harmonic Engineering Specialist, and Number Two Gearhead at Sugar Cubed Technologies!”

“I... see...” Twilight nodded, attempting to maintain her pleasantness in spite of the reason she had come down here. “So, what exactly are you doing?”

“Nothing spectacular at the moment; just making sure we got all of our stock set,” Vinyl admitted, her mood quickly shifting away from enthusiasm a moment before as she rubbed the back of her head with one hoof. “Actually, I’m kinda glad you stopped by. I was starting to think I should, I dunno, talk to somepony about the head honcho ‘round here.”

“You mean... Pinkie, right?” Twilight asked, drawing a quick few nods from the former DJ. “Why? Are you worried about something?”

Vinyl gestured to the mech standing guard.

“This wing-nut bot won’t let anypony into the lab,” she explained, rolling her eyes. “‘Administrator’s orders’ it tells me. I’ve been out here managing the stuff that gets dropped off, and whenever I’m not around, that thing brings it all inside. Unless Pinks has got another exit from the lab I don’t know about, she’s been locked up in there since we got our first shipment. It’s really bizarre.”

Twilight’s brow furrowed in concern. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen or spoken to Pinkie since that first meeting. As far as she knew, Pinkie wasn’t even aware she had an apartment all to herself in the building shared by her and the other Directors. Twilight had been so busy she hadn’t even stopped to ask about her absence.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Much appreciated, Boss,” the wild-haired unicorn said with a salute of her hoof.

Twilight cringed at the new title being casually thrown out at her, but didn’t say anything as she turned to face the mech, who stared straight ahead with the unwavering intensity of a statue.

“Stand down,” she gave in her best “commanding” voice.

“Primary Administrator authority recognized,” the drone replied, side-stepping out of the way and leaving the door clear.

The doors slid open as Twilight moved past where the mech had been standing.

Two steps in, she nearly tripped over a pile of mechanical equipment, causing Forty-Two to rush forward in order to prevent her from falling into another mess of supplies that were haphazardly piled a few steps away; many of the components appearing quite sharp.

Twilight’s eyes had to adjust to the somewhat muted lighting inside what had been christened “the lab” and felt the overwhelming need to voice her immediate observation as she steadied herself.

“This place is a disaster!” The Madam President shook her head in disgust, her nose crinkling as she looked around.

Half-opened crates sat all around, some of them also being used as tables with devices and paper-thin circuit boards laying out over them. Arranged all around the floor were piles of what looked like sensitive (and likely expensive) technical equipment lumped together with chunks of stone and metallic ores.

On one set of makeshift tables were what looked like a set of hastily-constructed clockwork and gear devices that moved and churned automatically, sending sparks and electrical arcs up and around themselves at random intervals.

What method there may have been to this madness was beyond Twilight, but as she gritted her teeth, the bubbling frustration that had been mounting since Sterling had brought this to her attention finally boiled over.

“PINKIE PIE!” she shouted, moving forward and past a small wall of obstructing crates before she caught sight of a long, straight, bright pink tail swaying around in the air. The pony attached to it was currently bending over, her entire front half obscured underneath one of the improvised shelves, and the shuffling noises she was making made it obvious that she was searching for something. “What in the name of--”

“Twilight!?” the fuschia mare called out suddenly, and her body tensed up, causing her to bang her head on the table with a cringe-worthy clang. With an exclamation of pain that was quickly forgotten, Pinkie exhumed herself from the pile, pulling herself up to face the unicorn as she continued to talk at a blistering pace.

“You’re here already!? Oh, I’m not ready yet am I? Wait, I am? Perfect! Perfect timing! Did I call you? I don’t remember calling you. Oh, wait, no I didn’t! You must have known! That’s why you’re here!”

Her ears slowly lowering, Twilight’s frustration fizzled out as the heat in her chest was replaced by ice water at the sight of her friend’s disheveled state.

Her mane now lay flat against her head, as opposed to the puffed-up, out of control nature it sported in the Equestria simulation. But that wasn’t what concerned her, as this was the state of her mane and tail all the time now that they had exited the virtual world. No, there was much more to her appearance that worried the lavender unicorn at the moment.

Her eyes were wide; wider than usual, twitching intermittently with bright red lines encroaching on the irises, and the dark, puffy bags underneath them made the ones on Twilight’s seem like beauty marks. Her words were rushed, her tongue tripping over itself at a breakneck speed that was a bit too much even for the usually garrulous pony, indicating she was barely keeping track of herself. Her coat was unkempt and stained as well, making it clear that she had taken little time for her own personal upkeep.

Most disturbing of all was the wide, toothy smile that she directed at Twilight, which made her feel incredibly uneasy, and left her scrambling for an explanation as to why her friend was behaving like this.

“Pinkie, you’re a mess! When was the last time you slept?” She paused for a moment, looking the pink earth pony up and down again before continuing. “Or ate... or bathed... or even brushed your coat...? Are those burn marks!?”

“No time! Well, of course there’s time, there’s always time. Time is everywhere! Unless you bottle it... Can you bottle time?” Pinkie tilted her head to the side, looking away thoughtfully as she rubbed a hoof to her chin. “Hmm... Possibly... Maybe if we... No! Can’t start a new project now! Things to do! Gotta get this place going! Care for some coffee?”

“Coffee?” Twilight drew back, now far more worried than before. “What the hay is coffee?”

“Human beverage,” Forty-Two took the liberty to explain. “Originating on Earth, the term covers a large number of dried bean products that are used to create a uniquely flavored drink in much the same manner as tea. Due to the typically high level of caffeine, it is generally used as a stimulant.”

“Good stuff. Great stuff! The best stuff!” Pinkie nodded, reaching out for a large mug and putting it under one of the machines whose purpose had escaped Twilight. The earth pony pressed a tiny button on the top, which caused a stream of something black, steaming, and quite strong-smelling to pour out of a nozzle and into the mug. “Taste takes a little getting used to, but it works! It works so good!”

Pinkie pulled the mug from its place before the machine was even done dispensing, downing the beverage in one quick chug. She then breathed out heavily, her expression relaxing like a junkie getting her fix. “Want some?”

“What...? No!” Twilight’s eyes narrowed, having to shake her head as she remembered why she was even there in the first place. “Pinkie, please! You need to calm down! There’s something important that I need to--”

“OH, YEAH!” Pinkie dropped the mug unceremoniously to the ground before rushing over to a nearby table and sifting through the pile of debris on its surface. “You’re gonna love it! I’ve got it all set up! Just finished working the kinks out of the prototype.”

“Prototype? Pinkie what are you--”

Twilight had no time to respond as Pinkie turned and rushed at her. Her pink friend, carrying some kind of weird, tube-shaped device in each hoof, sidled uncomfortably up close and around the unicorn in the span of a second.

“Don’t move. You might feel a pinch,” she said quickly, and Twilight could feel the tip of something cold press against the base of her neck, as well as near the end of her left foreleg.

“What?”

“AH!” Twilight winced as a sharp pain shot down from the back of her neck and another ran up her leg, causing her eyes to clench shut before she felt Pinkie release her. “Ouch! That hurt! Pinkie, what did you just do!?”

“Don’t worry. The medi-gel should be kicking in right... about... now.”

Almost instantly, Twilight felt the pain fade away, replaced by a dull soreness that radiated out from the spots where Pinkie had done... whatever it is she just did.

Looking at her foreleg, Twilight took note of the small discoloration on her fur that indicated a small incision that had been made right along the edge of her fetlock joint. Even now, there was almost no evidence of a wound at all, as the miraculous healing properties of the medi-gel, commonly used throughout the galaxy for a number of medicinal applications, went to work erasing the damage.

Staring at the spot, and at the two discarded metal canisters that now laid on the floor, Twilight felt a renewed wave of heat rush through her chest as the pieces fit together.

It was an implant.

“What the hay is this!? What did you just... inject me with!?” Twilight raised her hoof, her tone just shy of complete outrage.

Pinkie, to her credit, never wavered as she sat back on her haunches, bringing up her own foreleg. The unicorn couldn’t hide the baffled expression on her face as her friend’s leg lit up in a bright orange glow, encapsulated in the kind of holographic panels she had observed in use by the other aliens on the Citadel. It looked almost exactly like the device known as an omni-tool, yet conformed perfectly to Pinkie’s form, almost like a leg-warmer.

“Aaaaaand activating!” the pink pony said excitedly, as she looked up expectantly at Twilight while pointing at her with her other hoof.

The Madam President was momentarily distracted by a slight tingling at the base of her skull, before nearly jumping backwards as her own outstretched leg also spontaneously generated a series of orange panels similar to the ones on Pinkie’s.

“Congratulations, Twilight!” Pinkie nodded, grinning widely. “You are now the proud owner of the second ever omni-hoof, version one-point-two!”

“I... Wow...” was all that Twilight could say as her earlier anger was overcome by sheer curiosity. She marveled at the high-tech display, flexing and moving along with her leg as if it was a part of her own body.

“It’s a fairly basic model, but it still comes complete with a full micro-manufacturing suite and omni-gel dispenser, as well as standard personal computing software,” Pinkie explained, her tone going quickly from creepy and sleep-deprived to one of academic enthusiasm. “Kinda light on the apps right now since I still need to program them to work with the neural transmitter. But give me a couple more weeks and we should have access to most of the usual features. Good thing we evolved to make that sort of technical interaction easy or changing the interface configuration for hoof use would have been a whole different curve-ball.”

“Neural transmitter?” Twilight’s free hoof went to the back of her head, feeling the slightly-raised portion of the skin beneath her fur where the new technology now resided. Despite the implications, the sensation of the foreign object only served to reignite the anger she had felt at this very personal violation of her body. “You put something in my head!?”

“Of course not, silly! That would be dangerous.” Pinkie Pie smiled. “The transmitter's in your neck at the top of the spine.”

“That’s beside the point!” Twilight managed to draw herself away from her new tool, stomping her hoof with enough force that a few of the scattered bits and pieces of tech surrounding them shuddered where they sat. “No matter what your intentions were, you can’t just... just... do something like that without my permission!”

The withering glare Twilight shot at the other pony, accompanied by her very visible indignation, finally seemed to break through Pinkie’s off-putting behavior, and the smile slowly slid down her face. The mare’s ears drooped slightly, and she lowered her head along with her leg, which blinked out as Pinkie disabled her own gadget.

“Twilight, I... I didn’t realize that...” The pink mare’s speech slowed down for the first time during the encounter, and she sighed heavily, clearly remorseful. “I’m sorry... You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that without asking you first. I can remove it right away, if you want. It won’t take long.”

The unicorn’s next words seized in her throat upon hearing the tone of Pinkie’s voice, and she allowed her emotions to gently deflate, realizing that her friend’s actions, while poorly thought out, nonetheless came with the best intentions. She couldn’t truly stay mad at her; after all, there appeared to be been no lasting damage, and now that she thought about it, the possibilities this new “omni-hoof” presented could very well be worth it.

“Pinkie... No, you don’t need to do that...” she stated calmly, bearing no hint of the frustration she had felt before. The unicorn pressed forwards, patting Pinkie gently on the shoulder as she seemed to be on the verge of tears. “I was just surprised, is all. I really like it.”

Pinkie sniffed loudly, bringing her gaze up to look at Twilight as her face began to lighten.

“...Really?”

“Really. Why don’t you go ahead and show me what it can do?”

Staying true to her manic personality, Pinkie’s mood instantly brightened, and the sparkle returned to her otherwise bloodshot eyes as she restarted her omni-hoof and brought it up for Twilight to see, launching headfirst into the details.

Sitting at rapt attention, Twilight observed as Pinkie made her invention run through several applications without so much as touching it. Among the images that flashed across the transparent holograms, Twilight saw pictures of Pinkie taken from the awkward angle of her own hoof, along with a couple of video sequences apparently grabbed off the extranet. She even demonstrated that the omni-hoof was capable of playing sounds, as one of the videos came accompanied by a thumping bass arrangement that reverberated in the unicorn’s large ears. After displaying a number of other nifty features, she went on to explain how exactly her miraculous gadget worked.

“It’s a perfectly safe, non-magnetic, one-way implant,” Pinkie explained sagely. “The transmitter up near the brainstem translates direct thought processes into coded instructions and sends them down to the projector near the base of the hoof. I only have the most basic commands online so far, but software updates can take care of the rest. Once I get the apps designed and streamlined, we’ll be able to access them without the complicated manual interface that the original uses. Our evolution inside Equestria made it simple since our brain patterns are designed to be easily read.”

“So...” Twilight looked down at her upraised leg, still wrapped around in the glowing orange lines and surfaces. “To turn it off, I just have to think about--”

The holograms shut down at once, leaving the unicorn’s hoof looking unremarkable and plain as she carefully set it back down on the ground, as if afraid she might break it.

“Now you’re getting it! Way more convenient than how other species use it, right? You know how they hold their limb at a certain angle and it turns on? That’s why you see them all hold their arms so awkwardly to use it. There are a few apps that use neural cues, but those are mostly on top-grade military models; like for weapon systems and whatnot. But we’re Equestrians! We don’t need no stinking buttons!” Pinkie giggled, before her shoulders slumped slightly and her face drooped again. “You know what this calls for? More coffee! You have got to try this stuff, Twilight!”

Pinkie turned, but was suddenly stymied as a glowing purple aura engulfed her, gently lifting her hooves off the floor and preventing her from moving forward.

“Woooah! Okay... very funny, Twilight!” Pinkie mused for a moment before she turned in the unicorn’s biotic grip. “Couldja please put me down now? I need to get back to work.”

“Not now, Pinkie. In fact, that’s what I’m worried about,” Twilight replied, having spent enough time going over the fruits of Pinkie’s labor and turning her attention to the effect it was having on her friend. “First off, what could’ve possibly possessed you to raid our budget in order to buy all this junk?”

“You told me I was free to get anything I needed, and I need all this junk!” Pinkie shrugged her shoulders as she remained floating in midair. “None of it’s going to waste, really, so it’s not an issue, right?”

“That doesn’t mean you can abuse your privileges as Director to access our account without telling anypony!” Twilight said sternly. Then, she closed her eyes, gently releasing her pink friend from her biotic grasp while allowing herself a steadying breath through her nose. “But you’re right. It’s not the real issue at the moment. The real issue is you!”

“Me?” Pinkie tilted her head with a degree of confusion as she steadied herself on the floor. “That’s crazy-talk, Twilight! There’s nothing wrong with me; I’m fiddle as a fit! Wait... that’s not right. Donkey-horey? No, all systems at one cent per hundred!”

“Listen to yourself, Pinkie! You’re practically falling apart at the seams! You need to take a break and get out of this lab! Get some real food, take a shower, and for Celestia’s sake, get some sleep!”

“Sleep?” Pinkie seemed almost offended by the concept as her own eyes narrowed. “I’ve been sleeping my whole life! And now that I’ve found a way to really contribute to the Herd, you want me to just stop? The omni-hoof is just the beginning! We need this technology to work if we’re going to get anywhere! So what if I pulled one teensy allnighter?”

“An... allnighter?” the unicorn asked dubiously. “Pinkie, do you have any idea how long you’ve been cooped up in here?”

“Uhhh... Lemme think...” The pink pony paused, taken aback by the question. “You... left for that meeting with Miss Bossybankerpants about eleven hours ago, right?”

“It has been approximately fifty-two hours, twenty minutes, and seventeen seconds since the initial meeting with Treasurer Silver concluded,” Forty-Two spoke up helpfully from his position behind the Madam President.

Pinkie turned and squinted at Twilight’s assistant, deepening the lines under her eyes as she appeared to notice his presence for the first time.

“…Are you suuuure?” Pinkie asked the mech flatly in a disbelieving tone.

“Ugh!” Twilight set her hoof to her face, amazed that Pinkie could have lost track of time in such a manner. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I appreciate your dedication, Pinkie. You’re an absolutely vital asset to the Herd right now and we all know it, but you won’t do anypony any good if you run yourself into the ground like this! This place is in shambles! I don’t even know how you’re getting anything done in your condition, and don’t get me started on how much it’s costing us with you ordering all of this equipment, especially since it’s all just lying on the floor!”

“I can’t help it!” the party mare blurted out suddenly, and her legs began to buckle as she burned through the last of the coffee in her system. “I was so excited to get the omni-hoof project underway, then I got a new idea and I needed new materials to work on that... then another idea needed to be hammered out, so--”

Twilight reached up a hoof, setting it against Pinkie’s lips and silencing her as she sighed.

She knew this pattern all too well; one that she herself could admit to having fallen into during her various studies. A question about an obscure reference led from one book to another... then another... then another, as the younger filly Twilight would eagerly devour tome after tome until the moon had long set and the sun had risen again.

“It’s obvious what the problem is...” the Madam President said, shaking her head slowly. “You’re just one pony; you can’t do everything by yourself. Find some assistants and work out a plan. I can tell Vinyl’s only too willing to help, and I’m sure there are other technically-adept ponies you can ask. Then, you need to prioritize. Pick one... one project, and stick with it.”

“But--”

“No buts! Now, you have all of this equipment and we can’t exactly send it back, so what were you doing with it?”

“Research and development, what else?” Pinkie shrugged, unable to stop a huge yawn that escaped her muzzle. “We need our own tech to make it easier to deal with the rest of the galaxy, as well as something we can sell to the other species for a profit. But I was also wanting to see if I can tinker around with the Changelings a little... But then again... I just...”

Pinkie yawned again, her eyes growing half-lidded as her body and mind were clearly giving up the fight against the inevitable.

“Okay, Pinkie: Here’s what we’re going to do,” Twilight nodded, her eyes closed as her tone booked no argument. “You are going to get some sleep. After you wake up, take a shower and make yourself presentable. When you’re done with that, you, Vinyl and I will have a meeting over breakfast tomorrow and we can narrow down our options.”

“Madam President,” Forty-Two interrupted, but he was unheard by the unicorn as she continued.

“You’re one of my best friends, and I’m not about to let you drive yourself crazy over something like this just because you can. What we’re doing here is too important to just--”

“Twilight!” Forty-Two spoke up again, more sternly, drawing the unicorn’s eyes for a moment before nodding at the pony lying on the ground at her hooves.

Pinkie Pie’s eyes were screwed shut, her body curled up tightly as her chest rose and fell at a steady, slow rhythm. Her unicorn friend let out a sigh, her worried heart put at ease by the sight of the hyperactive mare actually sleeping soundly, while only occasionally mumbling to herself in her dreams. As quietly as she could, the unicorn turned and gingerly navigated her way back to the laboratory entrance, careful not to knock over any loose equipment.

As Pinkamina Diane Pie, Director of Technology, slept, Twilight left her in the capable hooves of Vinyl Scratch, relating to her their plan of action and reassigning Pinkie’s mech to follow the more levelheaded unicorn’s instructions. The first of which was to fetch the Director a blanket and to make sure nopony disturbed her for at least a full twelve hours while the Madam President carried on with her own duties.

The second of which was to find an appropriate place to “dispose” of Pinkie’s coffee machine.

Before they left, Forty-Two took a moment to enter a new log.

Several hours had passed since Twilight and Forty-Two had left Pinkie Pie in Vinyl’s care back at Sugar Cubed, and to the Madam President’s delight, for once, things seemed to be running smoothly as ponies were finally getting their own affairs in order.

She had even managed to get through lunch without interruption by some crisis or concern that needed mediation, allowing Twilight some peace and quiet to familiarize herself with her new omni-hoof’s functions over a humble meal of vegetable broth with a side of oats.

“Madam President,” Forty-Two suddenly spoke up with an air of hesitation.

Well, she almost made it through lunch.

“What is it, Forty-Two?”

“Was Director Dash given approval to bar entry of alien civilians from New Ponyville?”

“...Noooo,” Twilight drew out the word, dreading the answer to the next logical query. “Why?”

“Because Changeling Unit Twelve of Twenty is reporting that Director Dash is currently barring entry of alien civilians from New Ponyville.”

“Unngghhh...” Twilight allowed herself a soft moan as her work beckoned, leaving her half-full bowl of oats behind.

“Rainbow... what do you think you’re doing?”

Twilight and her assistant approached the prismatically-maned mare a short time later, shaking her head and amazed by the intensity with which her pegasus friend was glaring at the elevator that connected New Ponyville with the neighboring District 1285. This was in spite of the two mechs already having taken up position at either side of the door.

“Standing guard!” Rainbow Dash answered, her demeanor stern. “Ever since AJ started heading out into the other districts looking for work for everypony, we’ve had multiple attempted security breaches!”

Twilight blinked once.

“Security breaches?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah! There were these shady-looking humans that were trying to get in this morning just to
‘see what was going on.’ Likely story! And then there were a bunch of alien kids at the other elevator standing around and gawking at us like we were some kind of sideshow!”

Rainbow shook her head with a disgusted huff.

“One of them had the nerve to ask if they could ride me! I mean, come on! This isn’t a petting zoo, and I’m not an amusement park ride! Sheesh!”

“Aaaaaand...” Twilight gave her friend a worried look, trying to figure out why she was trying to sound like Commander Hurricane from the old Equestrian Hearth’s Warming stories. “...this is what you’ve been doing with your time?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Rainbow Dash shot back at the unicorn testily. “I’m trying to keep potential threats out of New Ponyville, Twilight!”

The pegasus huffed aggressively, clearly taking offense to the insinuation that her valiant efforts were being wasted.

“We have to protect what’s ours! Isn’t that why you made me Director of Defense?”

“Oh, for the love of...” Twilight shook her head, feeling a headache coming on as she set a hoof to one temple. “Defending the Herd doesn’t mean literally defending the gates, Dash! We aren’t living in a bubble here, and just because somepony isn't one of us doesn’t mean they should be turned away outright!”

“I’m just trying to keep us safe! I heard about what happened with that Jex guy!” Rainbow threw a hoof up as she turned back towards the unicorn. “We have to be ready for anything! Who knows what that gasbag might be planning?” Rainbow’s voice dropped, causing her to shake her head. “This is supposed to be our home now, Twilight. What good is it if we can’t protect it from aliens?”

“Rainbow, we are living on a space station. An alien space station. We are literally surrounded by aliens!” Twilight pointed out. “Said aliens are not our enemies here, and in case you didn’t realize, we need to generate an economy!”

“What does that have to do with anything?” the blue mare asked, clearly not understanding the connection.

“Think, Rainbow! Why do you think we’re putting so much effort into starting up local industries? It’s not for us, it’s for visitors! If we don’t have any hoof traffic through the district, then we’re not going to get any business!” the Madam President lectured for a moment, lamenting the fact that apparently she needed to impress the situation into her friend’s thick skull. “No visitors means no credits. No credits means we can’t provide for ourselves.”

“I thought going out to make money was Applejack’s job.”

“To generate capital, Dash!” Twilight shook her head, attempting to point out the basics of economics for her friend. “She’s trying to get us enough to get started! The goal of her efforts isn’t to generate profit, it’s to help set up an open market so that we can actually afford to feed and equip ourselves.”

“Oh yeah, because an open market will be sooo helpful. Especially when the Reapers come knocking down our door. Or did you forget about those--”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight raised her voice in a manner that immediately set the speed-demon pegasus back a step.

There was a moment of tense silence between the two as violet and magenta eyes held one another in a lock. Much to Rainbow’s surprise, she found herself drawing back and away from the former scholar’s hardened expression.

“Don’t you dare think for a second that I’ve forgotten about that,” Twilight stated through clenched teeth, her tone sharply edged. A barely perceptible shiver ran across the length of her body as she was reminded of just what was at stake. “But our priority for now should be securing our future in the galaxy. Then we can start preparing for--”

The elevator a short distance away emitted a cheerful chime as the green holographic symbols in the center blinked once before fading out, indicating that the elevator had just finished ferrying its occupant from the neighboring district, which sat lower on the Ward arm. Taking both pony’s attention as the door opened, an alien form exited with two steps of his long, backwards-jointed legs.

Towering over the gathered changeling mechs and nearby ponies was a turian; the first that Twilight had seen since the pilot she had met days earlier. This was also the first one that the Madam President had ever seen without some sort of armor, instead clad in a simple blue outfit with white stripes running horizontally down either arm. His angular, predatory face, which was really the only part of his body actually exposed due to the gloves and leggings of his outfit, was a ruddy brown color that immediately reminded Twilight of tree bark, marked by several bright red stripes that were painted down the sides of his face in an odd geometric pattern. Strapped over one shoulder was what looked like a heavily-packed duffel bag, his other clawed hand holding a metallic case that was stamped with a blue symbol that neither Rainbow or Twilight had ever seen before.

Much to the Director of Defense’s surprise, neither of the changeling mechs moved into his path or challenged him as the turian stepped out of the elevator and onto the floor of New Ponyville.

“Oh jeez, not another one!” Rainbow huffed, a very slight cyan aura wrapping around her body as she levitated from the ground and zipped forward in front of the turian. “Hold up! What do you think you’re doing?”

The turian tilted his head as he looked over the pony that was now at eye level with him, his expression impossible to read by the two Equestrians.

“Excuse me?” the turian uttered, put off by the obstruction as he shifted slightly, setting down the metal case.

“Rainbow!” Twilight chastised, her tone drawing an agitated snort from the pegasus, who rounded about in midair to face the Madam President. “Forget what he’s doing! What are you doing?”

“Look at him, Twi! He’s pretty much packed up and ready to move in! Next thing you know we’ll have some nutjob waltzing in here with a...”

Twilight’s eyes widened suddenly, drawing back half a step with a gasp as a fearful expression ran over her face that not even Rainbow could have missed.

Eyes glued to the corner of her vision, the pegasus angled her wings to slowly turn back towards the turian.

And found herself staring down a device composed of cold black metal and grey plastic, held up by the biped at arm’s length. The design was as organic and alien as the creature that was holding it, but there could be no doubt: Rainbow was staring down the barrel of a pistol.

"...gun," the pegasus uttered.

There was a tense silence in the air for a few moments as nothing and nobody moved.

Rainbow, her wings flapping noiselessly to keep her body stabilized and upright, didn’t even flinch, narrowing her eyes and looking her would-be assassin directly in his own.

“If you pull that trigger, you’d better hope it does the job...” the pegasus growled, a dangerous edge in her voice. “Because if my friends don’t take you down, I will.”

The turian held her gaze for a moment more, his mandibles moving reflexively, before he blinked, and followed it up with a throaty chuckle.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the alien spoke in the strange, reverberating tone indicative of his species, while he shook his head, clearly amused. “The ponies have some steel in their spines.”

“You’re half right. It’s Element Zero,” Rainbow remarked calmly, while never once taking her eyes off of the turian or his weapon. “Uh... Twi? Feel free to jump in at any time.”

“You’re safe, Rainbow,” Twilight assured her friend, although the scowl on her face that was now directed towards the turian indicated she was far from pleased with the situation. “There’s no thermal clip in that gun. He couldn’t fire it if he wanted to.”

“Observant too,” the alien remarked, lowering the weapon as he took a more relaxed stance. “Good to know.”

Rainbow Dash was up in the turian’s face almost the instant that he had lowered the weapon, nearly snout to nose as she fought off the urge to do something which would result in him needing medical attention.

“WHO THE HAY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, COMING IN HERE AND WAVING A GUN AROUND!?” she shouted, although the target of her anger still wore a placid expression even in the face of her words. “IS THAT HOW YOU SAY ‘HELLO’ IN TURIAN!?”

“As a matter of fact, it is,” the alien stated stoically, a calm admission that caught Rainbow by surprise as he collapsed the pistol and set it into a hidden holster at his hip. “At least that’s how I was raised. You can learn a great deal about any sentient creature by gauging its reaction to sudden and imminent danger. It’s how I get to know people.”

The stranger’s left arm drew back to his side, causing Rainbow to rear back in preparation to dive forward and plant her hooves in his chest, before she realized his three-fingered hand was wrapped around a small case.

“As for who ‘the hay’ I think I am, as you so eloquently put it...” The turian opened the case, revealing a shining silver badge in the shape of the now-familiar icon of Citadel Security. “Lieutenant Taxar Pyres. C-Sec Enforcement Division. I’m Twelve-Eighty-Six’s new station officer.”

Rainbow’s wings stopped beating at the introduction, and the realization of who she was dealing with caused her to plant herself on her hooves.

“And who might you be?” the turian continued.

“Rainbow Dash,” the pegasus nodded, a small grin forming at the corner of her mouth. “Director of Defense of the Equestrian Herd; your new boss.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Director, but that’s not how this works.” Pyres shook his head, keeping his tone level and professional. “I’m a liaison officer. I’m supposed to work with you on security matters, not for you.”

“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, Lt. Pyres,” Twilight stated, her tone icy.

“Technically, I’m off duty today. I decided it was probably best to go ahead and bring my gear over before things became official,” Pyres explained with a bored expression. “Just direct me to my security station and I’ll get settled.”

“Of course...” Twilight turned to her friend, who was still clearly fuming over the turian’s introduction. “Rainbow, there are some things I need to discuss with Lt. Pyres. Could you let the other Directors know that he’s arrived?”

“One of the changelings can relay the message.” The pegasus waved a hoof dismissively as she kept her eyes trained on the turian. “I, on the other hoof, have a few more questions for Mister Sensitive over here.”

“Rainbow!” Twilight’s voice became edged again, which did draw her friend’s attention, the change in the blustering winged pony’s demeanor obvious to the C-Sec officer.

“But--”

“I need to speak with the Lieutenant... privately.”

The two ponies were quiet for a few seconds before the blue furred mare nodded, reaching up to run her hoof down the back of her head.

“Okay, Twi. Just... let me know if you need me.”

“I will,” the unicorn nodded as her friend propelled herself forward, sailing easily through the air and towards the upper levels while leaving a short wake of transparent cyan-colored energy behind her.

“And here I thought that was just special effects...” Pyres shrugged, before nodding. “Well, Madam President Sparkle. It’s good to--”

“Don’t you ever...” the unicorn glared, her voice a few degrees short of scalding and her teeth bared as she dug into the deck below them aggressively. “...do anything like that again!”

“A minor cultural faux-pas. Hardly worth getting upset over--”

“That’s manure and we both know it!” Twilight continued, her voice edged in outrage. “There is no such philosophy or cultural basis anywhere in Turian society that suggests pulling a weapon on a being you’ve just met is in any way a good idea!”

“And I suppose you’re an expert on Turian culture?” Lt. Pyres asked, and if he had any eyebrows, Twilight was certain one of them would be raised.

“As a matter of fact... I am!” the Madam President declared with confidence.

“Then I think I’ll go ahead and take off the kid gloves.” Pyres shifted his shoulders, setting his duffel bag on the deck. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m not exactly thrilled to be here. I’m here because I was the one put in charge of this district’s security.”

Crossing his arms, he continued.

“I’m here because some paper pushing desk jockey up on the Presidium doesn’t particularly care for my attitude, or my methods, even though I get results. This...” Pyres cast an arm out, motioning towards the rest of New Ponyville. “...is supposed to be my ‘punishment.’ So, here I am: The laughingstock of my entire division, playing with the colorful Equestrians while other officers are busy actually stopping criminals.”

Pyres leaned forwards, making his point by jabbing a finger in Twilight’s direction.

“But I still have my pride, so while I’m here, I’m gonna do my damn job, and I’m gonna do it well. I’ve worked ten years in the Wards, and I’ve won out in situations that would make your feisty blue friend soil her fur, so I’m more than qualified. But doing my job and liking it are two entirely different things, and there’s nothing in the regs that says I have to be friendly with the local conclave. If you don’t like it, by all means, call for a replacement.”

Satisfied that he had driven his point home, the turian resumed his relaxed posture.

“Get where I’m coming from?”

“Oh, I get where you’re coming from, Lieutenant,” Twilight nodded, her tone flat.

“Good.”

Twilight pushed herself up onto two legs, bringing her eyes nearly level with the turian and eliminating his need to look down on her.

Her expression was far from relenting.

“Now here’s where I’m coming from,” she declared sternly. “What you see here in this district is all that’s left my entire race. Two hundred and ninety-seven ponies who, until recently, had safe, happy lives, and a home to call their own. Now that’s gone, and all we have left is this space, and each other. And I don’t care if that’s something you find childish, Lieutenant. Because let me make one thing perfectly clear to you...”

Twilight bore down on the turian, who, as a credit to his discipline, neither flinched away or made some chiding comment while the unicorn vented a week’s worth of frustration at him.

“My people are not a joke, and this is not a foalsitting assignment!” Twilight glowered. “Whatever your impression of us may be, I want you to understand right now that I am not going to tolerate some gun-toting hard-case of a guard who thinks he’s a laughingstock because he’s forced to be around us! And I am certainly not going to allow you to degrade, disrespect, and humiliate my friends for your own amusement because you think we require kid gloves!”

“Madam President...” the changeling standing behind the unicorn spoke up, making its presence known and causing Twilight to catch herself as she realized that her horn had flared into a brilliant purple, motes of dark energy swirling around its base.

Taking a deep breath and dismissing the biotic energy before it could build enough to release, Twilight kept her eyes on the turian, who continued to watch her impassively as she continued on, ignoring the aching sensation her two-legged stance was producing.

“This Herd and everypony in it is precious to me, and I won’t hesitate to defend them from anything and anyone that would dare to threaten them. And just for your information: That little stunt you just pulled a few minutes ago? If I hadn’t been told you were coming and these mechs hadn’t been informed of your authority in this matter... you would be a corpse right now.”

Pyres’s eyes flickered for the first time... just for a moment to either side... towards the jet black mechs that were still standing impassively at his left and right. His expression remained unreadable.

“That’s where I’m coming from.”

Twilight, unable to hold her position any longer, fell back to all fours, although seriously disliking the fact that she had to crane her neck to look up at the turian again.

“Am I understood, Lieutenant?”

The two stared at one another for a moment longer before the alien answered.

“And my security station would be...?”

Twilight’s scowl intensified, but after several seconds with no confirmation forthcoming, she chose to end the confrontation now, before she did something she would regret.

“Top level. Building has a C-Sec insignia. I think you know it.”

The turian nodded, reaching down to retrieve his case and duffel bag.

“I won’t even bother unpacking,” he said simply in a monotone voice before moving past the unicorn.

“Twelve of Twenty, Nineteen of Thirty,” Twilight spoke up suddenly when he had managed to put a few paces between them. “Escort Lt. Pyres to his security station.”

“I don’t require an escort.” Pyres glowered as the two mechs from in front of the door moved to action, immediately placing themselves in flanking positions of the turian.

“It’s not a request.”

The turian’s mandibles clicked slightly before he let off a gruff sigh, apparently deciding not to argue with it as the two mechs remained in step with the turian.

Once he was out of sight and out of earshot, the Madam President let out a grating sound that was part groan, part scream of frustration which Forty-Two found he could not identify.

“The NERVE! Pointing a gun in Rainbow’s face and then trying to wave it off as a cultural misunderstanding!? Does he think we’re idiots!?”

“Apparently,” the A.I. answered.

“Forty-Two!” Twilight turned on her mech with a distasteful expression.

“You asked, I merely answered.” The mech shrugged, now speaking freely as the two were now alone.

“Why didn’t the changelings respond to the threat!?” Twilight demanded, trying to make sense of what she had explained away to the turian as a result of the mechs being informed of his arrival, which she now only considered part of the answer.

“The C-Sec Series M-7 Paladin is a standard thermal clip weapon. Without the clip in place, Director Dash was never in any real danger and thus retaliation protocols were never triggered.”

“It’s not that she wasn’t in danger, that’s not the point! He aimed a weapon at my friend! And he did it out of sport!” Twilight fumed, taking exactly one second to come to a definite conclusion. “Forty-Two, take a message and send it to whoever the hay is in charge of this region! I am not about to trust the protection of our home to that... that...”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Twilight.”

“Why not!?” The unicorn rounded on the mech, who hadn’t so much as raised his voice at all.

“You’re upset. Executive decisions of this nature should never be made while you are this emotional.”

“And you have the authority to prevent me from making a decision?”

“Given your current state, yes,” Forty-Two nodded. “As your Number One Assistant, it’s just another one of my responsibilities.”

“And do you think there’s some reason we should keep him around?”

“I’ll prepare an executive packet for your review tomorrow after you have had some time to calm down,” Forty-Two stated, neither answering Twilight’s query or relenting in his assertion. “At which time, you will be better able to make a more level-headed choice.”

Twilight’s foul mood following her introduction to New Ponyville’s C-Sec representative was not quickly forgotten. And several hours later, after a particularly tense standoff with the self-declared “Director of Culture” over the frivolity of her proposed “investment opportunity” ended with Rarity refusing to speak with the Madam President until she eventually came around, Forty-Two decided it would be prudent to cancel the rest of Twilight’s scheduled appointments for the next solar day.

“I don’t recall telling you that you could do that,” Twilight snapped slightly towards her assistant as she prodded the pile of bland, colorless sprouts that made up her dinner.

“Part of my function is to take initiative in regards to your well-being, Madam President,” Forty-Two offered evenly. “And your current emotional state is counterproductive to your ability to effectively offer mediation or administrative direction.”

“So you’re going to force me to take a break whenever I get upset?”

“No, but I’m going to attempt to ensure you follow your own advice to Director Pie, Twilight.” The changeling nodded. “You should get some rest. Even if you don’t sleep, perhaps you should spend time familiarizing yourself with the omni-hoof. Or if you prefer, I can find some reading material for you. There’s no limit of fictional works by human, turian, and asari authors. Although it seems the Elcor, Salarians, and Hanar have very little to offer in that respect.”

Twilight huffed with a bit of amusement, shaking her head as the mech continued.

“Also, as I understand it, your omni-hoof should have access to the extranet. There are several classic human vids that seem to have been inspirations for various Equestrian novels that could be downloaded. Or, you could--”

The mech dropped off suddenly, the lights on his antenna-like ears flashing.

“I could... what, Forty-Two?” Twilight asked. “Come on, those were starting to sound pretty promising.”

“Unscheduled shuttle is arriving at the New Ponyville Docks. Seventeen of Twenty is observing.”

“Ugh!” Twilight laid her head down on the observation level table that had become her usual place to eat. “Please tell me it’s not Kailer. I am so not in the mood to put up with him again”

“It is not Jex Kailer,” Forty-Two informed her.

“Now tell me that you’re not just saying that because I asked you to say that.”

“I am not just saying that because--”

“Forty-Two!” Twilight snapped, lifting her head with a huff and clearly not amused by the mech’s attempted humor this time. “Who is it already?”

“Vehicle matches the profile of a Citadel News Net dispatch shuttle. Driver identified as Emily Wong.”

At this, Twilight perked slightly.

“Miss Wong? The reporter that interviewed Pinkie? The one that knows Shepard?”

“Affirmative. Stand by, she is approaching Seventeen of Twenty. Opening direct audio feed.”

The light in the changeling’s green eyes shifted into a single horizontal line again, as Twilight has observed several days earlier, and Forty-Two emitted a burst of static that always occurred when he synced his own output to another of his fellow mechs.

“Hello?” the familiar human woman’s voice came over mech’s speakers, the lines across his eyes spiking in a manner to illustrate the received audio data. “I’m sorry, can you help me? I’m Emily Wong: Citadel News Net. I’m trying to get in contact with a representative of the Equestrian Herd. It’s urgent.”

“Please state the nature of your emergency,” came the response of the non-sapient changeling drone.

“Oh, no! I’m sorry, it’s not an emergency, I just don’t have a lot of time and I didn’t really have any other way to contact them.”

“Administration is being informed of your request. Please stand by,” the drone responded.

“Thanks! I’ll just wait over by my shuttle, then.”

Twilight found herself torn as she listened. Honestly, she wasn’t really feeling up for a face to face meeting, but on the other hoof she also didn’t feel like it was right to ignore the woman who had helped introduce her people to the general public.

“Forty-Two, can she hear me?” the Madam President asked curiously, unsure as to the extent of the connection that her own assistant shared with the less advanced changelings.

“If required, I can form a two-way audio-link with little difficulty,” the changeling nodded, his eyes shifting back to their usual glow as he spoke with his own voice.

“Okay, do it.”

Forty-Two nodded before emitting another burst of static and speaking up, his voice taking on a strangely reverberant quality as if speaking in duet with the more clipped prerecorded vocal option of the standard drone.

“Dual audio-link established.”

She was already quite familiar with the concept of comms and direct communication over distances; something that was taken for granted by the citizens of the galaxy. But this was still something of a novelty to her as she had grown up in a far less technologically advanced environment.

Actually, now that she thought about it, this wasn’t too different from one of Spike’s primary functions back in Equestria, sending messages directly to her one-time mentor.

She shook off that feeling of nostalgia however, realizing she had to focus on the task at hoof.

“Hello?” Twilight tried, testing out this new function.

“Huh?” Emily sounded surprised at first, but quickly realized what was happening as she suddenly spoke up. “Oh! Yes, hello. My name is Emily Wong, I was trying to get in touch with somebody... oh... would that be, somepony in the Herd’s Administration?”

“Well, Miss Wong, you won’t have any trouble there.” The unicorn allowed herself a slight smirk. “This is Twilight Sparkle. What can I do for you today?”

“Oh, Madam President... I didn’t realize I was getting sent straight to the top,” Emily sounded surprised, but quickly shook it off. “I wish I could say that I was here on a social visit, but there are some things I thought you should be made aware of and I didn’t have any other way of contacting you except to come out here myself.”

Twilight set her forehooves together, trying to steel herself for whatever the investigative reporter might be talking about.

“What seems to be the problem, Miss Wong?”

“Well, as I’m sure you know, News Net and a few other media outlets have been carrying footage of the Herd’s arrival, my interview with Miss Pie, your Council sessions, and some analysis point-counterpoint debates involving the Herd, all of which have been the highlight of the last few news cycles.”

“I was aware we had made the local news, but I didn’t think that it was still that big of a deal. I mean, it’s been over a week since we arrived.” Twilight shrugged, although she wasn’t sure why as the human couldn’t exactly see her. In fact, Twilight found herself musing about how awkward it might have been for Emily to be speaking with the mech that was emitting her voice. “I kind of figured we would have been bumped off the presses by something more interesting by now.”

“Local news?” the reporter said with a laugh. “Well, I understand that you’ve probably been busy, Madam President. But to put it mildly: The Equestrian Herd story is running through Council Space like wildfire. Ratings and viewership are the highest they’ve been since the Battle of the Citadel, and the extranet is all but overflowing with commentary on the subject. There’s talk that my interview with Pinkie may be put in for this year’s Meteoria Media Award. ”

Twilight was taken back for a moment, having hardly realized that the arrival of her people on the Citadel could have caused such an impact on a galaxy of trillions. She had hardly expected them to be noticed at all beyond the Citadel’s local audience, let alone become a galaxy-wide sensation. Although in retrospect, perhaps that explained the flow of charity donations that was still coming in, even though they had made no attempt to capitalize on it.

“Oh... Uh... Congratulations?” Twilight offered, unsure what else to say before she decided simply to voice that fact. “I’m still not sure I understand why you felt the need to come up here to New Ponyville though.”

“Oh, that’s right! I’m here because, quite simply, the people want more!” Emily explained, her smile coming across clearly in her tone. “You’re big news, Twilight Sparkle. And my producer and I think it would be a great opportunity for us to indulge our audience’s desires.”

Twilight leaned back in her seat, taking a moment to consider the human’s proposal.

On the one hoof, they were still getting settled, and as Rainbow had put it earlier that day, they were not there for the rest of the galaxy to gawk at. She appreciated that Emily had the courtesy to ask permission rather than just rush in with a camera drone to get whatever footage she could for as long as she could get away with it, but at the same time, it might be in the Herd’s best interests to simply turn her away for the time being or at least reschedule for a later date.

On the other hoof... Emily made a good point. After Pinkie’s interview, the interest generated resulted in the Council’s agreeing to meet with her after they had originally refused. Without that extra boost of public awareness, she might have never been able to argue the Herd’s case or gotten consideration enough to get so much as a building to call their own, let alone an entire Ward district. And besides, free press might also help bring that hoof-traffic that she had been so animatedly telling Rainbow that New Ponyville needed.

“What did you have in mind, Miss Wong?”

“A raw look at the Equestria Herd,” Emily continued, clearly pleased to hear that the unicorn was considering her proposal. “My producer and news editor are just waiting for your approval and I can perform on-the-spot interviews with the everyday Equestrian. Give the general galactic public an idea of what your citizenry is like up close and live so that our viewers know nothing is being hidden.”

Live?

As in unscripted? Unrehearsed? With no time for editing or correction?

The concept took a moment to sink in as Twilight considered the implications. Asking questions among the average, random members of the Herd?

On one hoof, that might not be so bad.

On the other hoof, it could be utterly disastrous.

Twilight knew all too well that their position on the Citadel was precarious at best and, above all, dependent on the goodwill of at least a majority of the Council. And part of that goodwill was maintained by an agreement she had made to keep quiet about... certain subjects. In particular, it was known that her people had been rescued from a long period of suspended animation after their civilization was decimated some untold number of years ago by an as-yet unmentioned disaster.

But beyond that, any mention of the words “Reaper,” “Equestria Facility,” or “thirty-six million years” had been purposefully kept under wraps to prevent unnecessary issues.

An unwitting slip of the tongue or an unexpected answer could cause any number of problems.

“I’m... not entirely sure that’s a good idea,” Twilight offered. “I mean, my people are still getting settled and... I mean, if you wanted to do an exclusive, I am sure I could oblige.”

“I appreciate the offer, Madam President, but that really wasn’t what my news editor was aiming for.” Emily’s voice sounded a bit put off, but still understanding. “You’re probably the best-known Equestrian in the eyes of the galaxy and an interview with you would probably be seen as something of a governmental address, I’m sure. What we were hoping to get is some time on camera with other members of the Herd.”

“How about a compromise?” Twilight spoke up, an idea striking her suddenly. “I can get in touch with a few of the other members of the Equestrian Board of Directors for a series of live interviews.”

“You mean like Pinkie?” Emily sounded as if she was taking this counteroffer into serious consideration. “That... might just work out. Are they all quite so... lively?”

“Well, no... Pinkie Pie is one of a kind, but I assure you they are all characters in their own rights.” Twilight found herself smiling, thinking about how viewers might react to Rainbow’s outrageous brashness, Fluttershy’s demure softness, Rarity’s cultured tone or Applejack’s farm-raised charm. “I’m afraid that Director Pie is... indisposed at the moment, but the others would likely be more than happy to answer your questions.”

“I think I’d be up for that, though it’ll take some convincing to have my bosses see it your way,” Emily’s repeated her stance. “But really, in the end, it’s your call, Madam President. The last thing I want to do is cause trouble for you.”

Twilight leaned forward, her forelegs on the table as her gaze dropped, considering her options in the matter carefully while the changeling acting as a mouthpiece for both sides of the conversation watched silently, his own voice set aside as he contemplated his mistress’ next words.

Author's Notes:

Directive Decision
In the Name of Science

After recovering from working herself to a point beyond any organic definition of exhaustion, Director Pinkie Pie is set to attend a meeting with the Madam President to discuss and plan the future of Sugar³ Tech. After gathering research and accepting input from both the Director of Technology and her second in command; Vinyl Scratch, the Madam President has been able to narrow down their options to three possible avenues of development.

Option A: Develop Equestrian Tech - As Pinkie has shown with the development of the first omni-hoof, the Equestrians have not lost their gift for designing new and innovative technologies of their own. Director Pie has several projects in the works that will certainly benefit the Herd in order to “level the playing field,” so to speak. Along with focusing on upgrades to the omni-hoof, this direction would also likely lead to improvements in our people’s personal productivity and protection as well as advances in various galactic fields.

Unfortunately, this would also prevent us from capitalizing on Pinkie’s inventions as the specific tailoring of this research to Equestrians would present a barrier to selling it to other species.

Option B: Develop an Arsenal - Vinyl Scratch may have once been a humble (and somewhat loud) DJ, but despite her upbeat personality, she clearly has not forgotten the events that occurred before being released from Equestria. Vinyl has been adamant in her assertions that the Herd would be best served preparing for the storm to come by developing less-specialized equipment that could be shared with the other races.

Creating new forms of armaments, mods, and supporting technology could easily become a lucrative option as there is always a market for such things. However, while such a pursuit is not strictly speaking “illegal” so long as we follow Citadel conventions and procedures, it could certainly paint the Herd in a poor light.

Option C: Develop Equine Artifice - Aside from the omni-hoof prototype, the only technology the Equestrians truly “own” would be my fellow Changeling Class drones. While currently limited in scope and function, they are nonetheless the last remaining pieces of original Equine technology available, and their value can’t be overstated. While I have chosen to remain impartial in the matter, it has been mentioned that upgrades to our stock of drones would undoubtedly make them even more valuable.

However, research into this field would be unpredictable at best, as even Director Pie is not wholly familiar with her ancestors’ engineering. Tinkering with my fellow drones could lead to unseen, and perhaps unfortunate consequences, should things progress in an unwanted direction.

Not to mention the fact that it was difficult enough to get the Council to approve of their continued function, given this galactic civilization’s history with artificial beings and the outright illegality of A.I. research. Wholesale improvement of their functions could cause the public to draw unhealthy parallels with the situation between the Quarian race and their rogue A.I. creations, the Geth. Such scrutiny may not be worth the risk.

Directive Decision
The Reluctant Sentinel

Lieutenant Taxar Pyres, a turian C-Sec officer, has been assigned to New Ponyville as its live-in liaison. He has also made it clear that this was not an appointment of his choosing, and following a tense standoff with the Madam President and a personal dislike of his attitude, Pyres seems to be expecting, even anticipating, dismissal.

While his personality may be somewhat confrontational, his record tells another story. A ten year veteran of Citadel Security, Pyres has been commended on multiple occasions for actions above and beyond the call of duty. The turian has also declined multiple promotions in order to maintain his position of working directly against the Wards’ criminal element. His record also indicates that he has something of a problem with authority, having disobeyed the orders of superiors officers on multiple occasions in order to pursue personal leads. At disciplinary hearings, he has been quoted as saying: “I’ll follow orders right up until they get in the way of protecting innocent people.”

After reviewing C-Sec Protocols, I have determined that as the leader of the local conclave, you are within your rights to request a new district liaison and have already prepared said report to his superiors should you decide his attitude is not worth putting up with.

Authorize Report - Inform C-Sec of dissatisfaction with Lt. Pyres and make formal request for a replacement.

Withhold Report - Lt. Pyres will remain as current district C-Sec official for the foreseeable future, his superiors unaware of the events taking place at his arrival.

Choice
Media Hounds

Cameras and reporters again? It looks as if Citadel News Net is wanting to know more about us.

While we could easily decline media access, Miss Wong has proven herself to be sympathetic to our cause with her previous work, which was instrumental to our eventual settlement in New Ponyville. However, this was unexpected. She wants to do live, unedited interviews with a lot of ponies, apparently at random. It could be a chance to be heard and perhaps show some faith in our fellow Equestrians, but a single mistake might result in something being said that probably should not be said. A slip of the tongue at this crucial juncture could lead to negative results.

Twilight is clearly concerned about allowing cameras into New Ponyville, yet the smashing success of Pinkie Pie’s moment in the spotlight lends credibility to her compromise of exclusive interviews with the other members of the Herd’s leadership. At the very least, the Madam President trusts her friends to be able to handle themselves in front of an audience.

Running predictive model of the Madam President’s reaction.

Decline all Interviews: “I’m sorry, Miss Wong. Maybe another time.”
Approve Media Access: “Our doors are open. Feel free to begin right away.”
Exclusive Interviews: “My friends will be happy to answer your questions.”

VOTING IS CLOSED

::Results::

In the Name of Science

——————

Develop Equestrian Tech: 83.8%

Develop Arsenal: 10.4%

Develop Equine Artifice: 5.8%

====

Reluctant Sentinel

——————

Authorize Report: 1.7%

Withhold Report: 98.3%

====

Media Hounds

——————

Decline: 0%

Allow Media Access: 28.2%

Exclusive Interviews: 71.8%

The Madam President has signaled her belief that the Equestrians could benefit the most from scientific research geared towards improving their lives and capabilities.

Twilight has decided that Pyres’s experience and dedication outweighs his abrasive personality. He will remain as the district’s liaison.

The Madam President has faith in her friends’ abilities to represent the Herd in a positive way.

Arc 1 - Part 3: Sowing Seeds

Madam President Twilight Sparkle took a breath, nodding as she came to her decision after a few moments of silent contemplation.

“I don’t think most ponies are ready for the spotlight just yet,” the mare stated. “However, I would be more than happy to have the Directors sit down with you for an extended interview.”

“Alright, can you give me a moment to contact my producer and set it up?” came Emily’s voice from Forty-Two, her inflection pleasant.

“By all means,” Twilight said before drawing a hoof across her throat, a motion which Forty-Two immediately interpreted and executed as a signal to cut the connection, his eyes returning to full illumination. “Forty-Two, can you send a directive to the mechs to contact all of the Directors, with the exception of Pinkie Pie, and inform them of the situation? If they are available, we’ll likely be needing their assistance immediately.”

“I have already done so,” the mech assured her immediately upon re-establishing his own vocals, before voicing a concern. “I have to ask: Are you really sure about this, Twilight?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Twilight nodded. “I have faith that the others can conduct themselves in a respectable manner.”

“With all due respect to the Directors, Madam President, Applejack is honest to the point of embarrassment, Rainbow Dash tends to be brash and easily excitable, Rarity is an unrepentant show-pony, and I fear what the pressure of an audience will do for Fluttershy’s psyche,” Forty-Two pointed out bluntly. “And you would be asking them to answer unfielded questions in front of a live viewership of millions… potentially billions of sentients.”

“Well, I wouldn’t consider Pinkie Pie to be entirely ‘stable,’” Twilight countered, shuddering just slightly at remembering the experience in Sugar³. “And she managed just fine with Miss Wong. Besides, the alternative would leave the reputation of the entire Herd open to the reactions of a random sample of ponies. Can you imagine her interviewing the Crusaders?” The unicorn gave a tired chuckle. “Speaking of which, we really should set up some sort of town meeting or something to get everypony on the same page. I’ve been so busy, it hadn’t occurred to me to lay some ground rules out for everypony.”

“I’ll set some time aside to organize it, Twilight. But couldn’t we have simply rescheduled the media access until after addressing the Herd?”

“Maybe, but that would’ve likely put Emily, or more likely her employers, off,” Twilight defended herself and her decision. “If we are going to do this, then I want to present our best to the galactic audience. Emily’s a good person, but she’s also a journalist. There’s no doubt she would investigate if she thought we were hiding things.”

“But Madam President…” Forty-Two’s tone was flat. “…we are hiding things.”

“Details.” Twilight waved a hoof at the mech playfully as his antennae lit up, indicating he was receiving some new data.

“Miss Wong is addressing Seventeen of Twenty. Shall I re-establish contact?”

Twilight nodded, permitting the reopening of communications as Forty-Two’s eyes again turned to lines of audio feedback.

“Yes, Miss Wong?” Twilight asked, keeping her tone pleasant.

“Good news, Madam President,” Emily informed the mare. “My producer has given the green light and I’ve also been authorized to offer some monetary compensation for your time. With your permission, and if the Directors approve, we can set up a group interview at the Zakera Ward News Net Studio and have it all put together in under an hour.”

“A studio?” Twilight tilted her head, a little confused. “I thought you were going to perform the interviews on the spot here in New Ponyville.”

“Well, for the random streetside interviews I was originally aiming for, that would have been the plan, but this is a different animal altogether. Something of this nature involving cultural and diplomatic VIPs calls for a professional, high quality approach. My camera drone could do the job, but they have all the equipment and facilities at the studio to give the Directors’ interview the level of quality and attention it deserves. The controlled environment would also add to the professional setting and atmosphere and prevent unforeseen ‘interruptions’ during a live broadcast.”

“I can see your point... As long as they’re comfortable with it, I approve.” Twilight nodded to herself before a thought occurred to her. “Can you provide transport?”

“Of course. News Net can dispatch another shuttle to ‘discreetly’ bring the Directors to the studio and return them home when it’s done. No need to draw undue attention.”

“That would be appreciated, but I also have to insist that they are accompanied by their personal changeling drones at all times.”

“I don’t think that would be an issue,” Emily quickly agreed. “Having celebrities accompanied by bodyguards is nothing new.”

“And I would like the mechs to be kept strictly off camera,” Twilight added as a sudden afterthought, realizing that she had a responsibility to also work the angles to protect certain assets of the Herd.

There was a moment of silence from Forty-Two as it was clear the request had taken the reporter by surprise.

“May I ask why, Madam President?”

“They are an Equestrian-exclusive technology and I would rather they not be observed and visually analyzed in high definition by outside parties,” Twilight explained, which she noted elicited an approving nod from Forty-Two. “I’m sure you can understand.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, they will be kept out of the interview,” Emily replied before Forty-Two’s eyes lit up again, the mech retaking control of his vocal units.

“Madam President: The Directors have been notified of the situation and all four have accepted the proposal. They are standing by with the drones for further instructions.”

“Alright,” Twilight set her hooves together on the table in front of her. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Welcome to Citadel News Net. I’m Emily Wong, here with a special extranet broadcast, live from our Zakera Ward studio.”

Twilight tapped her hooves together in a clearly nervous manner as she lay on her bed, watching the holographic projection of the two-dimensional display on the wall of her modest apartment. Emily Wong’s disarming smile and well-versed introduction spoke of her flair and experience despite being watched by an untold number of sentient beings that were in easy broadcast range on the enormous space station.

As Emily proceeded to speak, pleasantly introducing the four ponies that she was interviewing to the audience as their names scrolled by along the bottom of the screen, Forty-Two took a moment to look about and take in their surroundings, this being his first time actually inside his mistress’ “private sanctuary.”

The single room studio apartment of the Madam President (while quite spacious) remained utterly undecorated, with an unpainted grey bulkhead surrounding them, the serial numbers stamped into the prefab material still clearly visible. While a standard human style foam bed had been set up for her comfort against one side wall opposite of the projection, it seemed to be the only thing inside the apartment that had seen any real use. An empty kitchenette stood at the back of the apartment, and off to the side was a sliding doorway that led to the washroom.

However, far more interesting than the apartment itself, was the company that Twilight had invited to watch the interview with her on her surprisingly large extranet projection screen. At the foot of Twilight’s bed, the four young foals known as the “Cutie Mark Crusaders” (at least, until they could come up with a new name for their group) made their presence known as they cheered on the four mares now sharing the galactic spotlight.

“AJ looks awesome!” Apple Bloom commented, reaching over to the communal bowl of popcorn the four had been offered (which was quite a treat after days of hay and alfalfa) and taking note of the clever angling of the mobile camera as it panned over the stetson-wearing earth pony.

“Rarity’s been working on that outfit for days,” Sweetie informed her compatriots as the shot panned over Rarity, the only one of the four who had actually dressed for the occasion. To Twilight, the clothing somewhat resembled the ensemble worn by Commander Shepard’s XO back aboard the Normandy, the woman who called herself Miranda.

As she watched Rarity subtly angle herself so that the camera caught a full view of the outfit, the Madam President couldn’t help but be impressed (and slightly put off) by what the fashionista had decided to spend her small amount of discretionary funds on.

“Check out Rainbow, she looks like she’s ready to kick some flank and take some names!” Scootaloo grinned as the mare she still idolized stood at attention like a trained Royal Guard, nodding gruffly as if trying to project a sense of authority and aloofness.

“Aww, Fluttershy looks so sweet,” said Silver Spoon, who had joined her new friends for this little get-together while her mother had stated she had “real work” to do at her office in the neighboring Administration Building. “Did they put makeup on her or is that the camera doing that?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s real blush on her cheeks.” Apple Bloom shrugged.

“Nah... That’s definitely the camera.” Sweetie tapped her chin thoughtfully as she squinted at the image of Fluttershy.

As the four amateur political commentators lounged on the floor, Forty-Two considered the last of the figures in the room, who was standing stoically on the opposite side of Twilight’s bed. Big Macintosh watched with a silent, contemplative expression as the various pleasantries were exchanged between the Directors of the Equestrian Herd and their human interviewer.

“Ya’ll okay, Twi?” Big Mac asked in his usual slow-paced, heavily drawled manner, taking note of Twilight’s anxiety as the interview began in earnest.

“Of course I’m okay!” Twilight responded quickly, rubbing her hooves together with a forced grin. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The Madam President’s current level of stress is likely due to a combination of second thoughts concerning allowing the interview, a sense of helplessness at being so far removed from them that she is now unable to intervene, and social anxiety from putting herself into a non-professional setting with other ponies.”

Twilight glared at the mech, who did not even bother to turn his eyes to her as he seemed to be paying total attention to the unfolding interview.

“Thanks, Forty-Two,” Twilight managed through gritted teeth as her sarcasm kicked in. “I sorely needed to have that thrown out in the open.”

“You’re welcome, Madam President,” The mech answered in his flat, artificial voice which showed no reaction to her clear discomfort.

“There’s no reason ta be so nervous,” Big Mac observed, a simple statement that made the unicorn’s posture slump. “Ya’ll know ya can let yer mane down with us, Twi. We’re your friends. Hay, we’re practically family.”

Twilight looked to the large red stallion, letting go of a breath as she deflated in response to his slightly pleading tone.

“I know, Big Macintosh. And you’re right. I need to relax. I just… It’s weird to shift gears from having to be ‘Madam President’ to just being ‘Twilight,’” the unicorn confided in the stallion. “And besides, it’s not like we’re simply watching a vid. What’s happening right now could have all sorts of ramifications on--”

“Twi, shush!” Apple Bloom looked up over the lip of the bed glaring at the two adult ponies. “It’s startin’!”

Forty-Two had to actively suppress a mechanical snicker, as the filly scolding the two adults and asking for quiet set off his irony-detection subroutines. This reaction only took a fraction of a second before the room grew silent again, all eyes (both organic and mechanical) focused on the projected screen as the mech committed the events unfolding before him to memory.

“How would you describe your reception after coming aboard the Citadel?” Emily Wong asked, her tone pleasant as the four mares looked to one another.

Forty-Two paused the playback, analyzing the facial cues of the four mares… that slight unspoken agreement between them that delegated the task of answering to the most approachable among them: the demure yellow pegasus who hesitated for one-point-zero-eight seconds before responding.

Forty-Two resumed playback.

“Oh, everypony has been just amazing,” Fluttershy answered, her soft smile rating a twelve on a one to ten “cuteness rating” (or so Sweetie had described in her commentary). “When we first arrived, many of us were so scared… lost… and afraid of what was to come. To think that the galaxy would be so generous as to take us in. Well, I know that we are all quite eager to prove ourselves worthy of the kindness that we’ve been shown.”

Forty-Two paused the image.

There it was again; the slight, commanding undertone she projected while maintaining a perfectly soft voice. The passive-assertive manner in which it was said made absolutely certain to the audience that the Herd had no intention of freeloading.

Considering this in conjunction with a later point in the interview, the mech fast-forwarded his playback and came to a particularly memorable scene about twenty minutes later, when Emily Wong had started to use screened questions from viewers commenting on the extranet.

“Director Applejack, this one is for you. IntrepidDuty4731 from Palaven asks: ‘With your species displaying so many incompatibilities with technology available on the galactic market, how can you expect to compete in said market?'”

“So what he’s askin’ is: ‘How are we supposed ta get by if we’re so different from ya’ll?’” Applejack chuckled at the question before her expression turned more serious. “Well, ta tell the truth, it ain’t been easy. We’ve already been tryin’ since we came here ta get our hooves wet in the jobs market, and there ain’t no shortage of desire ta put in some hard work. Most folk’ll say it’s on account of us lackin’ any real experience, but if ya ask me, the real problem we’ve been havin’ is because a’ these.” Applejack raised a forehoof to illustrate her point. “Just because we can’t so much as type on a dang keyboard, most folk don’t think we’re fit for the kinda jobs you bipeds can do.”

While this may have been Applejack’s personal belief, Forty-Two didn’t think it was entirely accurate. The real issue that the Herd had been dealing with was a matter of liability. The companies that were rebuilding Tayseri didn’t want to risk being held accountable if a member of their “endangered” species was injured on their watch.

“But them same folks are forgettin’ somethin’ important.”

“And that would be?” Emily asked, clearly intrigued.

“Deep down, we’re just like everyone else on this station. When trouble comes a-knockin’, we find a way to do it.” Applejack nodded, firmly rooted in her beliefs. “Life is all about overcomin’ all sorts of obstacles.”

“Yeah, just think of the Hanar,” the Director of Defense interrupted brusquely. “I mean, flying jellyfish! That’s way weirder than a pony if you ask me. If you go by the ‘incapable due to being different’ theory that we keep hearing, then don’t you think they should be stuck in an aquarium somewhere? And yet here they are on the Citadel, putting up shops and starring in entertainment vids. I mean, you have one right over there…” Rainbow pointed off camera, presumably to a hanar employee of Citadel News Net. “…who is making this awesome vid of us.”

“What Ah’m sayin’ is…” Applejack took the scene back, nudging her friend in the ribs to bring the point back around. “All we’re askin’ fer is the chance ta prove we’re just as capable as anyone else.”

While Forty-Two would have grimaced internally at the less-than-flattering depiction of the Hanar, the message as a whole at least had been well-delivered. That made a total of six separate instances attempting to put forward the idea that the Herd was eager and willing to integrate into Citadel society. Hopefully enough to get the point across to the general public and engender the Herd’s public image.

Forty-Two let the playback continue.

“Alright. This next one is from CerulianInspired writing from all the way on Cyone: ‘Directors, as an aspiring anthropologist, I find myself wondering how a people that has been so isolated from galactic society could so quickly have their spoken language integrated into standard translation models without requiring so much as a minor patch. Can you explain this?’”

“Oh! I can take this one.” Rarity raised a hoof, quickly cutting off the other three Directors as she cleared her throat and making grand gestures as if she were addressing the crowd in person. “I had the very same question when we first encountered the Systems Alliance. As I understand it, the reason you can understand us, darling, is because we are already speaking a variation of standard Earth English, which is recognized by all translation software available in the galaxy.”

Emily gave the white unicorn a thoughtful look.

“So you were speaking in a human language before you even met your first human?” she queried, putting forward the obvious question.

“Why, yes. As Fluttershy explained earlier, we were raised in suspended animation; our interactions taking place in a virtual setting until we were rescued. The programs in charge of that world made it a point to introduce us to different languages common in the galaxy for when we might be able to communicate with our rescuers once we were found. Earth English was most recently chosen due to being the most likely we would encounter, given our former home’s proximity to Alliance Space. Before they came onto the galactic stage, I’m quite sure we were all speaking in an asari, or perhaps even a salarian dialect. But to us, it’s simply a native tongue. I suppose that the best way to describe our usage of the language would be ‘Equestrian English.’”

Forty-Two couldn’t help but huff in an electronic snort of amusement. This was only partly true.

Honestly, the human language had supplanted the galactic “trade tongue” dialect (which had long been determined to be the most commonly spoken language in the galaxy) as the Equestrian “default” for one simple reason: His former mistress had adored human culture. In particular, the works of human poets and writers of the English language, such as Twain, Asimov, and Frost. Particularly Shakespeare; Astrolia loved Shakespeare.

“I see...” Miss Wong offered, not needing to ask about how Equestria was aware of such things, as the issue had already been addressed. “And here is another question for you, Rarity. ImpeccablyDressed from Bekenstein asks: ‘Director Rarity, I and many of my colleagues have noticed with some disconcertion that your people tend to walk around completely unadorned, and yet, in this broadcast you are sporting what looks like a redesigned rendition of an asari-made Sasali suit. Is the nudity of your fellows a matter of tradition, choice, or simple practicality?’”

Forty-Two couldn’t help but be amused as he watched the replay of Rarity’s eyes lighting up like a foal in a candy shop, and was prepared to replay Twilight’s reaction to Rarity’s response side by side with the interview footage.

He could appreciate a good laugh as much as any flesh-and-blood pony.

All memory files were put on hold as Forty-Two’s eyes resumed their normal illumination, turning to quickly identify the surprisingly loud electronic sound that had echoed through the door he was guarding.

“AGH! WHAT IS THAT!?”

Forty-Two instantly sprang into action, hacking the lock to the Madam President’s apartment in a few milliseconds so that it slid open as he brought his body around, quickly analyzing the situation.

The mechanical chirping kept repeating with an almost earsplitting volume as the changeling realized the Madam President was now splayed out on the floor, having clearly fallen out of the bed in a tangle of blankets. She was looking around with a frantic, spooked expression for the source of the sound.

“WHAT’S GOING ON!?” Twilight shouted, more out of her need to hear herself over the blasted chirping than out of any need for Forty-Two’s sensitive audio-receptors to hear her. All it took was to notice the blinking orange light centered on the unicorn’s front left hoof, and the changeling drone was made instantly aware of the situation.

If Forty-Two had a mouth, he would have grinned.

“You have an incoming call, Madam President,” Forty-Two informed her, his volume intentionally low.

“WHAT!?”

“You have a call,” Forty-Two tried again, increasing his volume levels.

“TALK LOUDER!”

“ANSWER THE CALL, TWILIGHT!”

“ANSWER TH--?”

Twilight’s questioning response was cut off with a startled gasp as her foreleg suddenly lit up in brilliant orange, causing her to recoil again as the transmitter at the base of her neck interpreted the proper command.

From the top of her fetlock, a screen expanded outwards, showing the pixelated image of a wide awake and still-damp Pinkie Pie, who had clearly just stepped out from a vapor shower, grinning broadly.

“Hey, Twilight! I got the two-way comm software working!” the Director of Technology informed the Madam President as the unicorn tried to catch her breath. Unfortunately, the volume of her omni-hoof was still apparently set to the maximum and it caused Twilight to cringe as she flattened her ears back in a vain attempt to protect her hearing.

“HOW DO I TURN IT DOWN!?” Twilight all but shouted at the screen.

“Oh, you think it, just like everything else,” Pinkie explained. Focusing her will with supreme determination, Twilight then thought hard about reducing the sound coming from her implanted tool, and what Pinkie said next, mercifully, came through at a much more reasonable volume. “Sorry about that... I forgot I had all the settings maxed out for testing purposes before I gave it to you.”

“My ears,” Twilight moaned piteously, rubbing the sides of her head. “My poor eee-he-hears…”

“Sorry, Twi, I thought you would already be up. And I really didn’t think it would be that loud...” the pink scientist apologized, now keeping her tone down as if speaking softly would matter at this point. “Vinyl just told me about your plan to meet up, and I wanted to know where we were gonna do that, then I figured I needed to get in touch with you and that would be the perfect chance to test out the omni-hoof’s communications suite, and then I realized I needed to clean up before I worked on getting the program just right in order to call you, so I--”

“Pinkie… I can’t hear a word you are saying,” Twilight deadpanned, clearly intending to cut the rambling earth pony off as Forty-Two chuckled to himself. “Give me a minute to recover my eardrums. I think they flew somewhere over by the kitchen.”

“Sure thing, Twilight. Again, I’m super sorry,” Pinkie offered, grinning sheepishly.

Meanwhile, Forty-Two’s earlier amusement faded as he analyzed Twilight’s body language while she tried to shake the ringing out of her ears.

Her fur had a pale, damp quality to it, indicating her body was slick with sweat, and his chemical sensors could detect a decent amount of anxiety-related hormones saturating the air.

A rude awakening wasn’t the only thing bothering his mistress, of that, Forty-Two was certain.

“I just need to fully wake up and get ready. Grab Vinyl and meet me at the balcony on the third level. I’ll be along in a little bit after I take a shower.”

“Sure. I’ll go ahead and bring some containers of tea, since it looks like you could use a real pick-me-up. I would bring some coffee, but...” Pinkie’s face took on a sour, but playful expression as she regarded Twilight through the interface. “...somepony converted my coffee machine into a puddle of omni-gel...”

The screen closed as Twilight mentally commanded the omni-hoof to hang up on the call and enter sleep mode, shaking her head as she looked up to her assistant through bleary, red-rimmed eyes.

The mech’s expressive optic lenses were alight with worry. “Twilight, what’s wrong?”

Twilight’s ears flattened again as her eyes narrowed.

“Nothing. I just need a shower. Please wait outside, Forty-Two.”

“Twilight, I--”

“Outside, Forty-Two… please,” the unicorn reiterated.

The mech, although hesitant, obeyed. Nonetheless, he filed this event along with other, similar observations for further investigation.

The Sugar³ meeting had taken a couple of hours longer than Twilight really wanted it to, as Pinkie Pie and Vinyl laid out their options in extensive detail, as well as providing a list of possible recruits for the fledgling technology firm.

After they were finished, and Twilight had spent a little extra time with Pinkie to further elaborate on the omni-hoof’s functions, Forty-Two then presented the Madam President with some new information. Information that left no alternative than to propel her headlong into another important situation she had been dreading to face ever since the conclusion of Miss Wong’s interview.

This led her back in front of an enclosed storefront she’d paid a visit to once before, on the second level of New Ponyville, as she hesitated at the automatic door that led inside.

“I have sooooo not been looking forward to this,” Twilight sighed, shifting on her hooves uneasily and feeling like an absolute foal.

“I am sure that Director Rarity will be fairly amenable.”

“It’s not that. It’s just... Look, Forty-Two. We don’t have to tell her about those new reports, do we?” Twilight gave her assistant a hopeful, pleading expression. “I mean, maybe we can hold off a little while until--”

“The Director has already been made aware of the situation, Madam President,” Forty-Two informed his mistress, his expression flat as she slumped in reaction to this news.

“Why did you have to go and do that?”

“Because it was highly relevant to her position as Director of Culture,” Forty-Two answered, his mechanical tone taking on an undercurrent of annoyance as he checked to make sure there was nopony in earshot. “With all due respect, Twilight, shouldn’t you just go in and get it over with?”

“I’m the Madam President. If I want to stand around and postpone an awkward and embarrassing conversation with one of my friends, then I am going to--”

The door to the new “Equestrian Essentials” clothiers slid open suddenly as Twilight stood motionless before them, and a pleasant-sounding chime went off, immediately drawing the attention of the two mares inside.

Standing to the left, an absolute icon to Equestrian beauty, was Rarity herself, still wearing the white and black suit that she had sported during the interview the day before. Her violet mane was perfectly groomed and curled as it usually was, and several small instruments were floating around her, each held gingerly in a blue swirl of light.

To the unicorn’s right stood a grey mare sporting a darker grey mane whom Twilight was not immediately familiar with. Her mulberry eyes glanced up towards the Madam President with surprise before she took an awkward step back, as if unsure how to react, and the strange earth pony was wearing an evidently incomplete outfit which Rarity seemed to be in the midst of working on before they had been interrupted.

Twilight turned for half a moment to glare at the changeling, who stared stoically ahead in a mechanical fashion, showing no signs of guilt for prematurely opening the door.

“Oh! Oh... uhhh, Twilight... Er, I mean...” the grey mare started up, her tone bespoken of the sophisticated and upper class, as opposed to the more neutral accents most of her fellow Equestrian’s spoke with. Come to think of it, she sounded more in line with Rarity’s speech styles than anypony else that Twilight knew. “Madam President, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be... uhhh...”

“It’s quite alright, Octavia.” Rarity turned away from Twilight, smiling warmly as her various tailor’s tools floated over to a desk. “Fancy titles aside, she doesn’t bite.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that she would, I just... uhh... eheh...” The mare called Octavia looked to Twilight for a moment, then back at the half-finished outfit she wore which seemed to drape over her backside in a cape-like fashion, leaving her belly and hind legs exposed underneath while forming like a suit around her front legs and chest. “I’ll just... go take this off while you two attend to business.”

Octavia nodded as she backed away from Twilight, who now found herself begrudgingly walking into the store with Forty-Two at her side, the metal doors closing softly behind her.

“Good morning, Rarity,” Twilight said sheepishly, attempting to straddle the issue that had brought her here. “So... friend of yours?”

“Humph.” The white unicorn turned her nose up in the air, turning away from Twilight with as she projected an aura of indignation, causing the Madam President’s sheepish expression to melt into annoyance.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me, Rarity. Don’t tell me that you’re seriously going to--”

“Say it.”

“Rarity, we’re not foals here! I have to talk to you about--”

“Saaaaaay it.”

“Oh, for the love of...!” Twilight let out a grunt of aggravation as she stomped a hind hoof to the metal floor so hard it sent a painful jolt up her spine. “Fine! You were right!” The purple unicorn grimaced, shouting slightly as she admitted what she had been saying for the better part of the last five days had been in error. “There, happy!?”

“Quite.” Rarity nodded as she turned back towards Twilight, a pleased smile on her face.

“For a mare who’s always claimed to be so mature,” Twilight huffed in agitation. “You sure can act foalish sometimes.”

“There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act a little foalish every now and then. Although, I am not so petty as to start saying ‘I told you so.’”

Twilight felt her upper lip curl in a half-sneer. “You just did...”

“Did I? Oh, I hadn’t noticed.” Rarity waved a foreleg dismissively before proceeding with the matter at hoof. “I assume you’ve seen the same reports that I have.”

“I didn’t have to see the reports to realize that you caused what amounted to a complete cross-cultural catastrophe in a matter of minutes!” Twilight scolded, getting to the heart of the matter. “And while we’re on that subject, what were you thinking!?”

“I was asked a serious question during a professional interview. I answered to the best of my abilities, and when Miss Wong requested that I elaborate, I told the truth,” Rarity defended herself, keeping her tone aloof as if she failed to understand the alarm in Twilight’s tone.

“‘And yet many ponies fail to consider that in spite of our own comfort among our fellow equines, most sentients are unable to avert their eyes in the same manner in which we have been brought up since birth, allowing something as simple as a flick of the tail to leave us scandalously exposed.’” Twilight quoted word for word, a flush running over her face as she recalled how the subject made even Big Mac turn redder than usual, and made all four fillies in the room very self conscious as they pulled Twilight’s blanket down over themselves. “Allow me to ask again, Rarity... What were you thinking!?”

“I was addressing a very real concern which you have been pointedly ignoring ever since we arrived on the Citadel, dear,” Rarity pointed out, her own smile fading as her tone grew more defensive. “And at the risk of sounding blunt, ‘Madam President,’ perhaps you’ve been too busy to notice that other species refuse to so much as walk behind us.”

“What I’ve noticed since I’ve been out and about today is that I have more than half of New Ponyville waddling around with their tails tucked firmly between their legs out of shame, when yesterday they didn’t have any problem at all being furclad! You did not have to embarrass our entire species in front of an audience of billions just to make your point!”

“Well, you’re here now, so it must have worked, did it not?”

“Rarity!”

“Look, I’m sorry if the truth makes you feel a little uncomfortable, Twilight!” Rarity huffed. “But you know quite well that I’m right. We are not in Equestria anymore! If we are going to be dealing with other species on a daily basis, we have to account for their sensitivities, which in this case, means we have to adhere to a different cultural standard, at least in public!”

Twilight found herself gritting her teeth as she looked away, letting out a primal snort before her expression started to soften, her ears flattening in a subconscious admission of defeat.

“Besides...” Rarity likewise began to cool off, as her friend’s body language indicated that the tense portion of this discussion was over. “It is better we get a little embarrassed and start developing a sense of modesty now while we can still claim ignorance, rather than a few months down the line when our reputations would be set as improper, naked beasts.”

Twilight looked up to the sometimes overly dramatic fashion pony, who was now speaking in a lighter tone.

“I took on this role for a reason, Twilight. Not just because I happen to be your friend and thus need to have a fancy ‘Director’ title, but because when it comes to these sorts of issues, I happen to know what I’m talking about.”

“When you said you wanted to open a boutique... I assumed it was just because you wanted to sell clothes like you did before all of this,” Twilight offered.

“I’ll admit, that’s not... entirely inaccurate,” the ivory pony had to concede the point. “But at the same time, it’s a ready solution to an issue that simply needs to be resolved. I’m just glad you’re finally seeing things from my point of view, darling.”

“Um... Rarity, I hope I am not interrupting.” Rarity’s guest, Octavia, drew attention to herself, tentatively moving out from the makeshift changing room in the back of the shop with the outfit she had been wearing folded over one foreleg as she moved to set it on the counter.

“It’s no trouble, Octavia.” Rarity nodded to the earth mare. “Twilight and I just have to go over a few things.”

“You two seem rather busy, though. Perhaps I should come back later?” Octavia queried, although she still seemed nervous with Twilight standing right there.

Twilight recognized that expression in the eyes of dozens of ponies who were in awe of the authority of her former Princess.

It was a sign of deference.

She found the sight of it put a bitter taste in her mouth.

“If you must, dear. I’ll meet you later for lunch, then.”

The grey pony mare nodded as she strolled casually out of the shop, clearly eager to leave the two to their own devices.

“Your new assistant?” Twilight asked, trying to regain her hoofing, pointing out something that she had noticed was becoming a pattern as each of the Directors seemed to be picking out like-minded individuals to help them in their endeavors.

“Oh, hardly anything so... ‘official.’ Octavia and I are just good friends that happen to share a few common interests. She used to be a classical musician in Canterlot, and we’d often get the chance to meet up whenever I happened to stop by on business,” Rarity explained. “As it happens, I was actually one of the only real ponies she knew, as much of the upper-crust of Canterlot were simply management programs. I must say, it’s rather refreshing to know at least somepony familiar with class and decorum.”

“Why would that matter?” Twilight inquired, honestly curious what point there was to emulate the ways and manners of high society when such distinctions were meaningless, given their low numbers.

“It’s a matter of maintaining our culture, Twilight. There is nothing wrong with being casual, and I don’t mean to act like I’m better than anypony else. But we also need to preserve our higher etiquette for the day when we move beyond our status as an endangered hooffull of refugees. In that case, I prefer to lead by example.”

“If we may come back to the matter at hoof, Madam President... Director Rarity,” Forty-Two interrupted the casual talk, all too well aware that there were other meetings to be had after this one.

“Oh, but of course. Business. Here I am babbling on like a brook and taking up your time,” Rarity huffed in amusement, nodding to the black mech. “By all means, continue, dear.”

“As you were both made aware, the new poll conducted at Director Rarity’s request following the interview indicates that eighty-seven percent of Equestrians now agree that it is absolutely vital to acquire some form of attire when dealing with other species,” Forty-Two stated dryly, bringing the facts to the front. “Also, since the interview aired nine hours ago, New Ponyville’s extranet information site has seen a dramatic rise in page hits, and numerous feeds across multiple social commentary sites have seen questions regarding when the district will be made accessible to the public at large.”

“Which needs to be soon.” Twilight nodded. “What are our options in the clothing department?”

“Well, of course you know I am more than happy to design and fabricate custom outfits for the Herd. I already have quite a few design ideas that will be both comfortable to us and acceptable to alien sensibilities,” Rarity stated with certainty, her horn again alight as she lifted a datapad from the nearby counter and brought it in front of Twilight.

Sitting back on her haunches, Twilight waved her left leg, which lit up in an array of shifting orange panels as the information was copied from the floating datapad to her omni-hoof.

Rarity’s eyes widened, a sparkle coming to her eyes as she realized what it was.

“Oh, my... Is that what I think it is? Where can I get one of those?”

“Pinkie’s working on making more of them as we speak. Hopefully, we’ll get one in the hooves of every pony by the end of the week,” Twilight informed Rarity as she accessed the datafile, going through the sketches of various styles of dress. It was clear to Twilight what Rarity had been working on since their exodus from Equestria, and while she was no expert by any means, she had to admit... they looked good. Better than good; amazing. Adapting various alien styles into Equestrian attire for some, while others were purely original concepts.

Then, of course, the reality of the situation had to present itself.

“...How much?”

“I have already used my share of the allowance you gave out to us to purchase materials and some basic machinery, which is how I put this little number together.” Rarity stood and waved a hoof in a presenting fashion over herself before gesturing to the half-finished outfit on the counter. “I’ve already started work on my next project, as you can see, and Octavia’s been essential in helping me get the proportions just right. The fabric is not exactly the Citadel’s finest, but I have a few tricks I can apply to compensate for that. For mass production, however, I’ve already given that list to your changeling over there.”

Twilight turned to the mech, who was bringing up the files and running the numbers.

“Processing.” Forty-Two’s eyes flickered. “Insufficient funds available.”

Rarity drooped as Twilight drew a sharp breath through her teeth. She knew this was coming.

Between food, amenities, Applejack’s still-lacking efforts in finding paying work, so many eager business startups, and Pinkie’s unanticipated splurge, their funds were being strained to the breaking point. And now they were nearing the bottom of the barrel.

“What about if we just bought off-the-rack prefabs and did alterations to make them fit? That way we can cloth everypony, and it would be cheaper, right?” Twilight suggested, which made Rarity take on a very sour expression.

“Well, I suppose… I could do that. But the result would hardly be ideal. Can you imagine everypony walking around in the exact same cheap, mass-produced, one-tone outfits? Oh, just the thought of it...” Rarity grimaced, making it clear she was not exactly thrilled at the prospect. “Besides, alterations can be just as time-consuming as original designs. I mean, it would probably be less expensive due to the savings in raw materials, but--”

“But you would rather be able to say: ‘Yes, we made that,’” Twilight finished for her, already seeing where Rarity was going. “I know, Rarity. I get it.”

“It’s not that, Twilight,” the Director of Culture explained. “Clothing is not just for covering our... ‘unmentionables.’ It is also a form of artistic expression. It’s a way of stating who we are to the outside galaxy and that is something of an imperative. The Herd has to reclaim its identity and this is one way we can go about doing it.”

Twilight sighed, having to grudgingly admit that the mare did have a point.

“Madam President, there is another Equestrian endeavor that has credits earmarked but has not yet been approved for spending. Diversion of these funds would release adequate resources for Director Rarity’s project,” Forty-Two spoke up suddenly.

Twilight turned, her heart sinking a little as Rarity’s eyes lit up hopefully. Not for the first time, the purple unicorn found herself wishing that her assistant could learn when to keep his speakers turned off.

“Which one?” Twilight asked, realizing that at the very least she had to look at her options.

“The Agricenter’s Greenhouse Project,” Forty-Two answered plainly.

Twilight cringed.

Golden is not going to like this.

I hate it when I’m right.

“Madam President! I can’t believe what you’re suggesting!” shouted the yellow-coated, bright orange-maned earth mare as she stomped a back hoof in indignation.

“Calm down, Golden Harvest,” Twilight attempted to sooth the forepony of what had come to be known as the “Agricenter”: a small group of former food providers that had banded together to form a lobby of nearly a dozen agricultural, floral, and green grocer specialists.

“You come out here and tell me that you’re going to cut off our funding before we even have the chance to get started and you want me to calm down!?”

“I haven’t made my decision yet,” Twilight defended, trying to keep a calm demeanor in the face of the earth pony’s clear displeasure. “That’s what I’m here, right now, to discuss with you! I wanted to talk about the possibility of delaying the Greenhouse’s startup until we’ve managed to stabilize.”

“The Greenhouse Project is exactly what New Ponyville needs right now!”

“We have food,” Twilight fired back, crossing her forelegs as she sat back on her haunches and tried to play devil’s advocate. “And after reviewing the specifics, I can’t help but think it’s far more ambitious than we were previously led to believe. I had no idea it would cost that much just to provide a proper growing environment.”

“We have dry hay, grains, and oats, all imported from human colonies. That’s not food, it’s ‘feed.’ There is a difference.” Golden shook her head in mild disgust. “I am talking about carrots, fresh flowers, apples... Real fruits and vegetables. It’s supposed to be ambitious, Twilight! We are trying to make New Ponyville self-sufficient. Think about it! If the ground doesn’t grow anything, we don’t have an economy.”

“Golden... We live on a space station.” Twilight made her point by clicking a back hoof on the floor, eliciting a metallic ring. “I know you’re proposal is for an enclosed hydroponic greenhouse, but that presents its own problems. One month of running the UV lights alone would cost enough credits to buy a luxury shuttlecraft!”

“That’s not the-- Are you gonna start getting technical with me, Twilight?”

“All I’m saying is that the cost of all of that equipment is enough to not only fund Rarity’s boutique, but there would be enough leftover from that to buy food--”

“Feed!”

“Fine... Feed enough for everypony for over six months!” Twilight was starting to get frustrated from having to hammer the point home so many times. “Look, I love fresh greens and veggies as much as anypony, but it’s something that we can start pushing towards after we get our hooves dug in. I’m just saying, we can stand to wait a few months.”

Golden growled, clearly agitated.

“And what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Join Applejack’s imaginary work detail? Yeah, that’s been a real upstart proposition so far.”

“Now, hold on just a moment--" Twilight objected, but was sidelined as Golden continued to vent.

"Just because Rarity went on the extranet and made a few mares feel a little awkward about our rumps showing, you're going to derail the entire Agricenter and have us standing around doing nothing? Do you think I don't see what's going on here? Favoritism, that's what this is! One of your friends wants to do something and you push the rest of us aside to--"

"ENOUGH!" Twilight's shout echoed across the first level of Ponyville, causing more than a few ponies to turn their heads before they quickly returned to their own business.

Golden took a sudden step back, her eyes wide and face pale, realizing she had gone a step too far as Twilight's eyes narrowed on her.

"As I keep trying to tell you, I haven’t decided yet. I’m here for your input on the situation and to inform you of the possibility that the Greenhouse might be temporarily set back,” Twilight fumed, her tone dangerously edged. "I have to consider the benefits to the Herd as a whole, not cater to any single group, be it my friends, the Agricenter, or anypony else. And I am most certainly not about to change my mind on any situation because somepony wants to throw a tantrum like a week-old foal!"

Golden, a strong-willed and stubborn mare in her own right, kept her eyes on the unicorn, refusing to look away as the two stared one another down, their snouts mere inches away from one another.

“Is there a problem here?”

Golden looked away first as the reverberating, alien voice cut in, retreating from the silent battle of wills and allowing Twilight a moment of relief as she realized the fur on the back of her neck had risen. Releasing a held breath before she looked to the source of the voice, she couldn't help but appreciate Golden's shocked reaction.

"I beg your pardon!? Who--" Golden turned, then had to crane her neck up as she took in the blue and black armor-encased frame of New Ponyville’s security liaison.

"Lieutenant Pyres?" Twilight tilted her head as she took a good look at the district's turian C-Sec representative.

Now in uniform, the turian certainly cut a more impressive figure than before, standing comfortably in his armor with a remarkably relaxed posture. And while she couldn’t be certain, on account of his scaled, plated face, Twilight got the feeling that Pyres was actually grinning.

“Who do you think you are? This is a private discussion between me and the Madam President!” Golden balked, only slightly intimidated by the alien’s overbearing presence and authoritative demeanor.

“I happen to be the one in charge of settling disputes in this district before laws end up getting broken,” Pyres stated matter-of-factly, his voice turning sour. “And to be honest, if you two ladies don’t start playing nice, I won’t hesitate to forcefully separate you two until you cool off... Understood?”

Golden cringed, unsure of herself now as she was faced with an unknown quantity. This hesitation allowed Twilight to step forward.

"That won't be necessary, Lieutenant," Twilight stated calmly. "Miss Harvest and I were just having a heated discussion. We were hardly about to come to blows over it. Right, Golden?"

"Do me a favor and try not to have them out in the open, would you?" The turian nodded, folding his arms. "I don't claim to know how you ponies settle your differences, but I’ve seen milder arguments end in someone getting shot, and I’m not about to let any of that crap happen on my watch."

"But we..." Golden shivered, unnerved by Lt. Pyres' hawkish eyes as he glared at the two of them, and her tone instantly shifted to be more apologetic. "I... think I've taken up enough of your time, Madam President. I hope that this... unpleasantness won't influence--"

"I'll contact you once I've made my decision, Golden," Twilight stated bluntly.

The yellow mare’s shoulders rose at this, but another sideways look to the turian took whatever she had to say out of her breath and ended the confrontation with her turning to head back into the warehouse she and her fellows had claimed for their project.

Twilight shook her head as she felt a pounding pressure behind her eyes, and tried to preempt it by rubbing her temples with either hoof.

"Forty-Two, could you--"

"--put together one of those reports for me?"

"Complying. Please stand by," Forty-Two chirped in a purposefully neutral mechanical voice, having already processed the request in the course of a few milliseconds before going silent and observing. He wasn’t willing to give the turian a good understanding of his capabilities just yet.

The C-Sec officer and unicorn quiet for a few moments as the black mech watched the two of them, trying to puzzle out this unexpected interaction.

"Lt. Pyres... I..." Twilight started before she took a breath. "Thank you."

"I’m not asking for your thanks, I’m just doing my job. Speaking of which, don't start screaming like that unless there's a real emergency. This armor's not made for sprinting, you know."

"Yeah, sorry about that. That got a little more tense than I expected."

"That was tense?" Pyres huffed in an amused fashion, his inflection sarcastic. "Well then, I’d hate to see what happens when you lose your temper."

"Yeah..." Twilight ran a hoof over the back of her neck, flashing back on a recent memory she always tried to keep far from her thoughts. "Uh... Lieutenant, I admit we didn't exactly get off on the right hoof. And seeing as how we're going to be working together for a while--"

"Yeah, just stop right there, Madam President." Pyres shook his head. "Like I've been telling these ponies all morning, I'm not interested in being friends. I’m just here to do my job until I get reassigned to more important work."

Twilight gave the turian a blank expression before something occurred to her.

Cultural sensitivities.

"I was going to suggest we have a meeting so that we can go over the ground rules in New Ponyville," Twilight improvised, shifting gears as she put on a mask of professionalism. "I got my hooves on a copy of your record and if you can keep in line with that, then I'm not going to fire you."

"...Damn," The turian swore, although his inflection sounded amused, at least.

"Your personal quirks notwithstanding, I like to think that your superiors know what they are doing."

"You haven't been in politics for very long, have you?"

"Like it or not, we're stuck together. Deal with it." Twilight shrugged. "Now, if we’re going to do this, then let's at least make sure it's done efficiently. Make it clear what either of us can do so that you don't step on my tail and I don't interfere in your procedures."

"That..." The turian seemed to consider for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I can work with that."

"I was about to take lunch. Care to join me?"

“It’s not something we think of consciously,” Twilight explained as Pyres nodded, paying very close attention as the unicorn briefed him on pony body language. “It’s one of those old, primal instincts, the kind we never quite evolved out of. If you see a pony dig their forehoof into the ground and keep it raised, that’s the important part, keeping it raised, then you know we are past words and somepony is about to get hurt. It’s very rare that it happens, but that’s the signal you want to look for before intervening.”

“And until you reach that point, it’s just a staring contest?” Pyres sounded shocked. “Not even the Hanar are afraid to get physical when the situation calls for it. And have you seen two hanar fight? That’s the kind of stuff the extranet was made for.”

“We’re not an inherently violent species, but we do have our disagreements. This works as a sort of way to determine who has the greater conviction. The first to flinch away tends to back down completely, admitting they’re wrong,” Twilight answered, setting her hooves together as she leaned forward in her seat. “It’s not something we do with aliens. No offense, but if one of us gets mad with you, don’t expect the same sort of warning.”

“So I should shoot first. Good to know.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” Twilight huffed.

“...I was joking,” Pyres told the unicorn flatly. “Looks like you still have plenty to learn yourself, Madam President. Besides, could you imagine the paperwork I would have to deal with if something like that actually happened to one of you ponies?”

“So I trust you’ll use this knowledge to keep the peace...?” Twilight asked, not amused by the turian’s twisted sense of humor.

“Hey, I am all for letting you ponies take care of your own little problems. Hell, I wish other species did the same; Headquarters wouldn’t be so packed with people complaining all the time. In any case, just consider me window dressing, patrolling the district or at my station until some real issue comes up.”

Twilight nodded understandingly, having taken more than an hour longer than she usually did for her lunch and postponing a few less urgent meetings in order to brief the turian on what he might expect from New Ponyville. She also paid close attention to his thoughts on the district in regards to security, and how they would be best able to handle the (hopefully large) influx of visitors once the district was “officially” opened for business.

They didn’t agree on everything, and the turian’s offbeat way of talking sometimes made the pony want to groan, but as Twilight continued to speak with him, she found herself more convinced that Forty-Two had made the right call by preventing her from immediately calling for his dismissal when they had met the day before.

“Alright, is there anything else?” Twilight asked, keeping her tone even and professional.

“Just one other thing: your ‘Director of Defense,’” Pyres offered, jumping into the subject quickly and getting straight to his point. “I know that you are friends with her, but you have to understand that she really has no idea what she’s doing. It’s not biotics keeping her flying, it’s hot air. She couldn’t handle herself in a combat situation with a waste-disposal drone.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate her...” Twilight stated testily. “Rainbow may come off as hot-headed, but she won’t stop at anything to try and protect the Herd.”

Twilight wanted to further refute the lieutenant in regards to Rainbow’s lack of training and discipline, but found that she really couldn’t argue much further without undermining her own argument.

“Yeah, emphasis on ‘try.’ Don’t get me wrong, she’s passionate about what she’s doing, I’ll give her that,” Pyres continued. “And maybe where you come from that was enough. But in the Wards, that’s just not going to cut it. If she just rushes into troublesome situations like she did yesterday, she is going to get hurt. If she wants to claim any kind of authority over security around here, she needs the formal training to back it up.”

“Could you help her with that?” Twilight asked.

“...Maybe. But I seriously doubt she’ll listen. Besides, I think she’s still upset about yesterday. Didn’t say much to me at the security station this morning except for pointing out that most of the office was ‘her’ side and that I could only walk around on ‘my’ side.”

Twilight shook her head.

“Yeah, she can be a little foalish sometimes. Don’t worry, she’ll listen to me,” Twilight assured the turian.

“Oh, Twilight!”

The unicorn’s eyes snapped open as a familiar voice came from her left. Pyres also seemed to notice this and was for some reason shocked seeing as how to the left of the table was an open, empty space where the balcony on the third level of New Ponyville ended.

“There you are. I’m so glad I found you.” Fluttershy drew her fetlock over her brow, having clearly worked up a sweat as she hovered effortlessly in place over thin air, something that the turian sitting across from the unicorn was watching with a still-amazed expression. “I’ve been looking all over New Ponyville for you.”

“Uhh, Shy?” Twilight started, clearly having no issue with what she was seeing. “You do realize that you can contact me by talking to any changeling unit we have, right?”

“Oh, we can? I didn’t know that...” Fluttershy drew back, lowering her eyes demurely before she turned to look at Taxar. “Oh... Hello, Lt. Pyres. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Uh... Hi.” The turian was unsure of himself at first before recognizing the yellow pony. “Director... Fluttershy, right? Interspecies Relations? From the interview last night.”

“Yes, that’s me. Um, I know this may not be the best time, but have you had that looked at?”

The turian drew back. “Excuse me?”

“It looks like a mild case of plate ostrea dermis, the turian equivalent of psoriasis.” Fluttershy motioned to the side of her face, drawing Twilight’s attention to a very minor discoloration along the turian’s jawline. “Right there. Have you tried any dextro-amino balms?”

“How did...” Pyers turned away from Fluttershy, actually off guard as the pony diagnosed a very minor issue that he had dealt with since childhood, but most aliens, even those with xeno-medical training, were unaware of.

“She does that,” Twilight explained swiftly. “Part of that specialized Equestrian training I was talking about. Fluttershy is very good at observing things about other species.”

She turned to the pegasus, who was nodding in agreement.

“Anyways, you needed to see me Fluttershy?”

“Oh, yes, that’s right. I think we may have a teensy little problem,” Fluttershy said, moving up over the railing and landing gracefully on the balcony next to the table, a very faint yellow glow dissipating from around her body as she folded her wings against her back. “We have some visitors.”

Twilight huffed in annoyance at this new “problem.”

“You too, Fluttershy? I had this talk with Rainbow yesterday. We are not turning away everypony that comes to our door just because--”

“Oh, no, it’s not that. I let them in,” Fluttershy quickly admitted, although she cringed a moment later. “I’m... kind of regretting that now, because they don’t seem to want to leave.”

Twilight gave the pegasus a curious look.

“Okay, Fluttershy. What exactly is the problem here?”

The yellow pegasus gulped slightly. “...Krogan.”

“And so much for being window dressing.” Pyres’ mandibles clicked, a motion that Twilight was starting to connect to either nervousness or frustration.

She wasn’t surprised to see his reaction, at least, if what she had found out upon reading up on the conflict-prone species was anything to go by. Close to two meters tall, armor-plated, incredibly long-lived, and with a penchant for violence, krogan often meant bad news in any situation they were involved in.

“You let a bunch of krogan just waltz right into the district!?”

“Well, they were yelling at the drones near the elevator and I was worried that they might be labeled as hostile, so I offered a tour as compromise,” Fluttershy explained. “From what I can tell, they’re young for krogan. I don’t think any of them are over a hundred. They seemed genuinely interested in seeing us and learning about Equestrians, so I didn’t think there would be a problem.”

“I have a feeling I know where this is going.” Pyres shook his head.

“I showed them around the lower levels and they seemed interested enough. But now they’re refusing to leave. I tried asking nicely and reasoning with them, but they won’t listen to me.”

“How many?” Pyres asked before Twilight could.

“There’s four of them, Lt. Pyres,” the pegasus offered.

“Armed?”

“Oh! Of course not! I would never have let aliens into New Ponyville if they had weapons with them.” Fluttershy put a hoof in front of her mouth, as if she found the very thought detestable. “I know krogan don’t have the best reputations, but I didn’t see anything wrong with letting them take a look around.”

“Have they done anything yet?”

“Um, no,” Fluttershy answered a bit meekly. “Not anything bad. They just didn’t want to leave. Maybe you could say something to them?”

Lt. Pyres sat back in his seat, his three-fingered hands folded together as he considered.

“Well, if they haven’t done anything illegal yet, there’s not much I can do. The district is a protected habitat, but it’s not eminent domain.”

“But, krogan are dangerous aren't they?” Twilight objected, shocked that the turian was not rushing to perform his duty.

“Definitely.” Pyres nodded. “But even they know the rules on the Citadel. I can’t take action until they’re about to actually try something.”

Twilight clenched her eyes shut in realization as she remembered something that the turian had told her just a little while ago during their meeting.

“And it falls to the local conclave leader to set forward preventative measures in their individual districts,” Twilight sighed.

“That’s right,” Pyres confirmed with a nod.

“Wait, what does that mean, exactly?” Fluttershy tilted her head, unsure of herself.

“It means that unless a crime is actually committed, I’m the one who has to deal with our new krogan guests,” Twilight explained.

“Well, to be fair, most conclave leaders delegate that responsibility,” the turian suggested.

Twilight seemed unamused at the suggestion. “I would have to delegate it to Rainbow.”

“...Point taken. You should handle this yourself,” Pyres agreed.

“I’m within my rights to throw them out of the district, right?” Twilight asked.

“On paper you are, but the issue there is enforcing it,” the C-Sec officer explained. “It’s entirely possible they’ll just get bored and leave after long enough. Krogan may be long-lived, but they have the attention span of a space hamster when they aren’t busy shooting at anything.”

“Well, I’m not just going to wait around until something manages to provoke them,” the unicorn countered. “I should at least try to convince them to go before that happens.”

“But, Twilight, what if somepony gets hurt?” Fluttershy looked worried, as the Lieutenant got up from his seat.

“I can be there on standby in case things get out of hand. But until someone crosses a line, I can’t do much more than glare at them. Which, me being turian, would likely just egg them on. Keep in mind, krogan usually don’t respect anything except brute force. You can try talking them into leave peacefully, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

Forty-Two, who had remained silent off to the side as the events unfolded before him, watched as Twilight took a breath, trying to weigh her options.

Author's Notes:

Directive Decision
To Clothe or To Feed

With initial credit funds at a premium, there comes a time when sacrifices must be made. In this case, the recently reassessed necessity to provide suitable garments for everypony must be weighed against the prospect of higher quality foodstuffs. Projections suggest that both ventures could become equally profitable in time, and that either could be given later consideration should the credits become available. The question becomes which project should be our initial focus.

Option A: Invest in Equestrian Essentials - Director Rarity has been attempting to plead her case since first arriving in New Ponyville. Last night’s interview with Miss Wong merely brought her issues front and center, confirming via the reaction from the galactic public that her fears of Equestrian nudity is indeed a major factor in how the Herd is perceived. The Director also argues that the artistic and cultural expression through fashion may help the Equestrian Herd gain a sense of identity, something that she seems to believe we have a serious risk of losing in a sea of new cultures and alien philosophies. Rarity has offered to use her “knack” for creativity to produce custom designs and outfits for everypony, but the equipment needed to make this cost-effective is an expensive initial investment.

If declined, a minor consideration fund can be used to purchase bulk and second-hoof clothing that can be altered to fit most Equestrians. While not as fancy or expressive as the custom works promise to be, these would do the job of protecting our newly developing modesty, at least.

Option B: Invest in the Greenhouse - Golden Harvest has made her feelings of our current food stocks very clear: She finds them woefully inadequate. Without a planet of our own to develop an agricultural base, the Agricenter, a team of pony farmers and agricultural specialists which Golden represents, have proposed building a new form of hydroponic greenhouse that can sustain a high yield of plant life in the artificial setting of the Citadel.

Although at first presented as a simple matter, closer scrutiny has revealed the Greenhouse to be a major undertaking, as the completely original system would have to be built from scratch. If successful (and judging from the complexity of the untested system, that is a very large “if”) the Greenhouse could well provide not only sustenance for the Herd, but a new source of income in the selling of fresh surplus to other levi-amino species on the Citadel.

If declined, the leftover funds following the purchase of equipment for Equestrian Essentials will be more than adequate to sustain our food stocks in the same manner we have been doing so for the foreseeable future. While ponies would be able to purchase higher quality foods from other vendors using personal funds, the staple Equestrian diet would remain basic.

Choice
The Worst Kind of Company

This was unexpected.

Following the interview last night, it seems that a group of curious visitors have decided to pay a visit to New Ponyville to see the sights. The only problem is that these visitors happen to be krogan adolescents, a highly aggressive and volatile reptile species with which we are not yet entirely familiar. Given the reputation of krogan in Citadel Space, it is uncertain what they want or why they are showing any interest in the Equestrians, but apparently after being invited into the District by Director Fluttershy, they are refusing to leave.

Lt. Pyres is not pleased with this development, but maintains that his hands are unfortunately tied unless the krogan commit an illegal act, something they have not yet done. At the same time, our turian C-Sec representative has informed the Director that she is within her legal rights to bar and deny the krogan entry to the district, but would be responsible for doing so herself. Lacking in any form of private security, that leaves the Madam President to personally see to the matter.

It has been suggested that the krogan will eventually leave on their own accord, but there’s no telling how long it will be before that happens, or what might occur in the meantime. Twilight could also attempt to confront them and learn more about their intentions. If she isn't satisfied, she can try to get them to leave, but at the same time, their reputation for violence and unpredictability makes such a course of action to be a risky endeavor.

Running predictive model of Madam President’s reaction.

Leave the Krogan Be: “I don’t think we should risk antagonizing them.”
Confront the Krogan: “As long as they’re here, they’re a threat. Fluttershy, where are they?”

VOTING IS CLOSED

::Results::

To Clothe or to Feed

——————

Invest in Equestrian Essentials: 66%

Invest in the Greenhouse: 34%

====

The Worst Kind of Company

——————

Leave the Krogan Be: 23.9%

Confront the Krogan: 76.1%

The Madam President agrees with Director Rarity in that more high-quality garments would be more immediately beneficial than Golden Harvest's agricultural project.

The Madam President is convinced that the krogan loiterers present a threat, and is intent on both discovering their intentions, and convincing them to vacate the district.