But Photuris squirmed the instant she held her against her chest, and she didn’t stop until Sarah let her go. “I’m not James,” she said firmly. “James is an iteration of the pony I am—a previous iteration. Equestrian citizens are made of hundreds, I only have two. Together we’re… someone else. Him, the copied memories from a life that wasn’t his, a few months of agony… then a life of unimportance in a basement.” She looked away, pacing towards the window. But it had gone completely opaque now—they would not be getting any views of the battlefield. “He wanted me to be someone better. That’s what the Failsafe offered. And we are! The ancients are still in there! They taught me how their machines work… and now we have what we need.” She stuck out her hoof to Sarah. “We’re done with changeling diplomacy. We’re here for the Pioneering Society. We have to shut that ship down.”