While Marble Vein and Brilliant Flower enjoyed each others company, another less enjoyable meeting was happening in my Equestria dreamscape.
 
Drone 765 landed and then started trotting down the dark, empty, Canterlot alleyway. His destination was the back door of a supposedly abandoned store in the workers quarter of the city.
 
His legend was that of a pegasus stallion called Curtain Call who was a small-time talent agent that handled bookings for many of the smaller clubs and theaters in Canterlot. The position didn’t come with much prestige, but it had given Drone 765 access to a vast network of ponies throughout the city and the immediate area. Which made it often very easy to get the drone operatives working under him into positions he needed them to fulfill their assignments.
 
Now not everyone working under him was another changeling. In fact he had quite a few ponies who he represented. Mostly younger performers who were full of passion and dreams, but all too often those dreams shackled by fears and uncertainties and a desperate need for validation.
 
Curtain Call had found this made these young dreamers very easy to manipulate and he was able feed off of their love, passion, and hungers to his hearts content. Not too much but enough to keep him happily sated.
 
Also he’d been able to make several useful business connections that were allowing him access to funds without needing to bother the Queen’s exchequer or tap into the hive’s funds. This gave himself the opportunity operate with greater flexibility. And it let him pocket a fair bit for himself as well.
 
However the pegasus stallion/changeling wasn’t thinking about is he searched for the keyhole to unlock the back door. A key had been provided with his latest instructions. What was running through his mind was the nature of summon that had brought him to location tonight. It had come from high up in the command structure, but what was even more unusual was the fact he was suppose to meet with another field handler. Their persona was a unicorn mare named Purple Marten.
 
Handlers rarely met with each other in the field. That way if one was captured one could not compromise other handlers by knowing their personas. But that was exactly what he was about to do.
 
So after some fumbling he succeeded in getting the tumblers to turn in the old, rusty, lock and the door opened. With that accomplished he stepped inside.
 
The instructions had included a floor plan of the shop. He was suppose to meet this Purple Marten in what appeared to have been the former store owners office. He made his way up the stairs to the second floor then down the room at the end of a hallway. A heavy layer of dust coated most surfaces in this place, and the filthy, heavily framed windows only let in a little of the light from the moon outside. Still even in these dim conditions Curtain Call was surprised that he could see no hoof prints disturbing the dust on the floor. Whoever this Purple Marten was they knew how to move stealthily.
 
The door at the end of the hallway was ajar. He was about to knock when a female voice from within called out softly.
 
“Please come in.”
 
Curtain Call slowly pushed the door open and stepped in. A small glowstone on a battered, old, roll-top desk cast a dim greenish light on the surroundings; this and the bleary moonlight from the filthy windows were the only sources of illumination in the room. Standing with her back to him was a unicorn mare.
 
The mare turned around and faced stallion. Curtain Call had to give this handler points for their choice of wardrobe. Apparently they stayed abreast of current fashion. A snug jacket of velour in some dark color were kept company by the vest of matching fabric and a shirt of some pale fabric with ruffled cravat of similar material. Perched on her head was black bowler with several light plumes inserted into the hat band.
 
“Thank you for coming.” Curtain Call noted that the mare’s tone of voice did not match the words spoken. There was a coldness in the mare’s voice. “I arranged this meeting because I need to confirm some details concerning an operative who use to report to you.”
 
“What details would those be and which operative would this be? I have work with dozens of operatives over the last 2 years.” The stallion didn’t like this one bit.
 
“The operative in question is Drone number 992 who goes by the alias of Corporal Trotter. They are currently a member of the Royal Guard. You were their handler for the last 16 months weren’t you?”
 
“Yes, I was. However I have had no contact with them for the last few months. So what do you need to know about them and why? Also how do you know I was once his handler?”
 
“I know because of my current assignment. What I want to know is why you deliberately deleted specific information from your reports?” Purple Marten took a step toward the stallion. “Why despite Drone 992’s repeatedly noting in his reports of caverns beneath the Royal Palace did you exclude that data from your reports to the court?”
 
Curtain Call pretended to nonchalantly examine the dirt on a front hoof before replying. “What I am more curious about is how you were allowed access to my reports that were meant for the eyes of our Majesty the Beloved Queen and the High Command? Field handlers are usually not privy to other handlers reports. Who in the court is passing such information along to a handler like you?”
 
The mare nodded her head. “I know this because Drone 992 is currently under my command. He is drafting a plan of great importance to the success of this campaign. Therefore I am privy to any information that will assist Drone 992 in his success. Which in turn will help all who serve the Queen. Being denied critical information about potentially useful facts does not aid me in exploiting his full potential.”
 
“Also there is question about several of your business transactions over the last year. In many ways you seem to be spending more and more of your time and energy on filling your private bank accounts then helping your Queen triumph at her greatest enterprise. The court frowns upon those that put their own interests above those of the Grand Hive.”
 
Curtain Call’s heart was suddenly pounding. “How did you find that out?!” He hissed. “I have created those accounts to allow me the flexibility to conduct my operations without needing to burden the court or the Grand Hive with additional expenses. Those accounts allow me to better serve our Queen!”
 
Purple Marten’s horn flared and she levitated a stack of documents from the floor behind the desk and set them on it. She then proceeded to levitate several of them and float them toward the stallion.
 
“Are you saying that running your own smuggling operation to bring contraband into this city by using the same caverns your deliberately omitted from your reports is serving your Queen? Are you saying that buying and selling various properties in Canterlot and several other cities is due to your devotion to the court?”
 
Mare stormed up and got right in Curtain Call’s face. In the darkness the mare’s eyes seemed to burn with cold fire. “Effective now you are relieved of your duties! You will return to the Grand Hive to face these charges in the court. As of now you are stripped of all title, and authority! Do you understand?!”
 
Drone 765 roared and his disguise flowed away. His curled horn flashed to live. Quickly he threw a force barrier up between himself and the mare. Purple Marten’s shot a bolt of green lightning at the drone. The bolt easily shattered the drone’s barrier and struck him square in the chest. He convulsed and then collapsed to the floor in a lifeless heap.
 
The mare stared down at the body with disdain. “Whether you’d returned to the hive or not you were dead the moment stepped in this room you treacherous piece of trash!” Her horn flared and the paperwork on the desk floated over and settled on the body that had been Curtain Call. Purple Marten closed her eyes and focused her mind. As she did the body and the paperwork began to disintegrate in a shimmering veil of green flame. She continued this for a couple minutes until there was nothing but a slight singe mark on the floor. The mare opened her eyes, and then teleported out of the room.
 
To be continued.