The war with Equestria has been going on for eighteen months, thought Lieutenant Onoda, and things are not as good as they used to be. Oh, things had been so different not so long ago. How different it had been in the days of victory, when they had occupied the Everfree Forest, burnt the town of Ponyville to the ground, taken several other places, and infiltrated almost wherever they wanted to. In those early days with a glut of pony prisoners, there had been no need to ration, and even the lowest Worker could have his or her fill of sweet, rich love and food as well. Then, after the first six months, things had changed. Equestrians put new, sinister weapons of war into the field. Planes that could outfly and after a while, outturn even the fastest Warrior Changeling, fitted with guns. Ordinary Equestrian soldiers with guns as well, adapted of course so that hooves could be used to fire them. Armoured tanks and war trains and other such things. And lights that flashed green in the presence of a disguised changeling, robbing the changelings of their greatest asset, that of secrecy. The great victories that had rolled in one after another in the early months were no longer happening.
The love rations and food rations were reimposed at normal levels after the first seven months of war. The Great Feasting Time when every day was like Sunreturn* was well and truly over. The lings didn't mind too much at first; almost all lings had always had rationing from when they crawled from the egg. Then the rations had been cut, and then cut again. Several changelings went and petitioned their Queen, asking if she could make peace with honour with their Equestrian foes. The royal reply had not been what they were expecting. A new regiment had been formed of those changelings who were most loyal to the Queen-the Queensguard Specials, and after a few violent examples had been made of those lings who dared to petition or protest, with their bodies cut up and used to grow edible fungus with, all public dissent ceased. They also guarded the fungus fields and the cocooned prisoners, to stop food or love being syphoned off to the black market, and got higher rations then most lings to help keep them loyal. Horrible rumours were now coming in from the outer reaches of the Hive Mind of the destruction of whole Swarms and even entire Hives, but in Hive Hunger-Prime all was safe and secure.
The changelings adapted of course to the new ways of war. They made their own guns, with triggers that were designed to be pulled by fingers rather then hooves. Changelings could grow fingers with ease, whilst Equestrians were unable to use captured changeling guns with their hooves. They slyly derailed the armoured trains at every opportunity. They even made planes of their own, although nowhere near enough of them.
One evening a messenger came
