Author's Note

This is an info dump, but it is worthwhile to read, and it also provides a lot of background to the Side Quest right after this part.

It also shows that small actions and decisions can affect something completely unrelated, even to a major degree.

My Firestar is constantly proving that he doesn't care what you are, or were. He only cares whether or not your heart is in the right place. Anything else is pretty much secondary.

But, he's my version of the player character. You, as a player, could make him completely different.

Chapter 8: Deniable Allies: Part 1: Prologue

It had been a month since the attack. After a lot of convincing and badgering, Leon finally agreed to tell everypony where he’d gotten his gear.

Leon and I assembled everyone in the Mess Hall, and Leon got up onto a table and admitted his past to everyone. Just like with me, he made sure to point out that not only was he not like that anymore, he regretted ever having been like that in the first place.

I led the wave of comments. “So, you’ve made mistakes. We all do! Yeah, some of yours were big. Is that supposed to matter, now?”

He smiled gratefully at me as murmurs of agreement filtered out of the audience.

“Like I said once about the defectors,” I added, and looked straight at Sarah and Ranger, making sure they got the message, as well, and truly absorbed it, “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got a clean slate. Actually, no. More than clean. Shining.”

By then, Leon – who still wasn’t good at, or used to, accepting complements or praises, nor did he know how to – was red-faced in embarrassment. I glanced at him and chuckled.

I caught Jackson looking at me strangely, but I couldn’t place what the look meant. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, and then he went over to Allen and started talking to him. I dismissed the strange look.

Seeing as how everyone was pretty much doing the same as Jackson and Allen - conversing amongst themselves – I motioned Leon off the table and over to me. We chatted for a while, and then everyone went off and did their own thing.

A few hours later, I was walking around, looking for something to do, after practicing at the Firing Range with dummy refire rounds.

“Hey Firestar!” I heard Jackson call out.

I looked in the direction his voice had come from. He and Allen were standing next to the Generator facility. I waltzed over. “What’s up?”

Allen took a step back, giving Jackson the spotlight. All of a sudden Jackson was fidgety, like he was extremely nervous about something.

Jackson flicked his head in the direction of the Generator building. “Let’s go inside.”

I gave him a curious look, but I followed him in. Allen came in, as well, and shut the door behind us.

It was dark. The machinery was a little noisy, but not too much, as we weren’t in the Generator’s actual room. This was a place that only engineers, mechanics, and repairmen would go. Not being much of any of them, myself, I only recognized a couple of machines, out of the dozens throughout the large room.

Verbally, there was silence for a couple seconds. Then Allen spoke up. “Need a kick-off?” He asked Jackson.

Jackson glanced at him, hesitated, then nodded.

Allen took a breath as he stepped up. “I’m not going to say what the secret is, but Jackson is like Leon, in a way; hiding a part of himself.”

After a second of waiting to see if there was more to it, I realized Allen was done talking. Jackson was still obviously gathering up the courage to speak, so I replied “...And it’s also something dark?”

Jackson’s eyes flickered from me, to Allen, and back again. “W-Well,” he stuttered, his nervousness almost getting the better of him, “not dark, per se, just…unique. I’m not Equestrian.”

I felt my brow furrow in confusion. “…Okay? So, you were born outside. So what?”

“No, you don’t understand. When I say ‘not Equestrian,’ I mean I’m not of your race. I’m not even human. I’m a changeling!”

“…A what?”

“Changeling.” Suddenly, his horn lit up. There in his place stood a humanoid creature. It was black, with small, randomly-placed holes all over. It’s armored exoskeleton looked like chitin. It also had wings, in addition to its horn.

My eyes widened. “Whoa!” Half of it came out in a whisper. I took a step backward in surprise.

Allen put his hands up in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Don’t be alarmed!”

“I’m not alarmed. Just surprised.”

“You’re not…” Jackson said, astonishment clear in his voice, “…you’re not scared?”

“No…. Should I be?”

“N-No! Not of me. But... most ponies get frightened by my true appearance.”

I snorted. “Appearance, shmappearance. You’re still you, right?”

“Y-Yeah. Still me.” Jackson was visibly brightening – mood-wise – by the second. In fact, by now, he was actually smiling.

Doing more than a cursory glance, I could visibly tell it was still him. Those bright green eyes, holding both intelligence and a caring nature behind them. The way he held himself up, like a long-time soldier. Almost as if he’d been one just about all his life. It was an unconscious thing. Hard to change, even a little. Aside from the wings, the obvious holes, and the exoskeleton, the overall physical stature and characteristics were pretty much the same, as well.

I didn’t really need verbal confirmation. I already knew, just by my eyes alone.

To show it, I broke into a grin and pulled Jackson into a friendly hug. “Thought so, man.”

I felt him stiffen with surprise, and then slowly accept and return the embrace.

“As long as you still act like yourself,” I continued, “I don’t care what you look like, or even what you really are.”

I heard Allen quietly slip out. I figured he’d just been there to make sure things went alright, and to comfort Jackson however needed.

I was a little surprised to hear a sniffle, as if someone was crying. When I pulled away to look, I saw tears on Jackson’s face.

“Thank you.” He said. “Thank you so much! All my life… all my life, I’ve had to pretend. No one wanted to be friends with a monster, and-“

“Shut it! You’re no monster. You may not be human, but you’re no monster, and I do NOT want to hear that kind of talk ever again. Got me?” By Celestia, I sound like my mom!

He sniffled a little, and nodded half-heartedly.

“Do you got me, soldier!?!” I said, a little forcefully.

He snapped to attention. “Sir, yes, sir!” I could see a smile on his face.

I smiled back, and put a comforting arm on his shoulder. I squeezed it gently. “No matter what anyone says, you’re no monster. You’re you. Don’t forget that.”

He nodded, and after a couple seconds of absorbing silence, I changed the subject a little.

“How long has Allen known?”

“Years. I’d served with him for about thirteen before that first attack, and I'd told him by the time the eighth year began. He was like you; he didn’t care. As long as I stayed true to myself, deep down, than he didn’t care at all. It never affected his trusting me, negatively. If anything, it was positive. I’d trusted him with a deep secret, and he knew it.”

“And usually, when someone you trust trusts you with a secret as deep as that, you know that they’re a good person to give your own deep trust to.”

“Exactly.”

“So… what exactly is different between an Equestrian and a changeling, besides the obvious?”

“Well, the disguise you saw wasn’t a normal disguise spell. Most of us aren’t powerful enough for that. It’s a type of magic unique to our race.”

“Race? Not species?”

“Well, scientifically, yes. We’re scientifically in the same species as Equestrians, – breeding is possible, though not easy – but yes, most would just go ahead and say species.”

“Not easy?”

“Understatement. I’m talking somewhere around one-fifth of the probability of just two Equestrians.”

It went on like that for a while, him telling me the differences. Changelings can gain sustenance from food, but not nearly as much as Equestrians do. Changelings don’t usually even try to depend on solid food. They feed on emotions. Specifically, positive emotions. Love in particular, but it isn’t necessary. They don’t even need to be directly receiving it, although that’s the easiest and most nourishing way.

Even just a normal friendship is good enough to keep them alive. Multiple friendships can even keep a changeling quite comfortable.

The amount of that going around this base is more than enough to keep Jackson both comfortable and strong.

Another thing unique to his race is the ability to sense emotions. You have to be physically close to a person to actually sense them, though. Emotions directed toward the changeling are strongest, while emotions directed towards others have to be given more than a basic effort. Not impossible, by any means, but none of it is subconscious.

Jackson comes from a changeling hive under the command of a Queen Chrysalis, but he’d been kicked out for openly - and strongly -disagreeing with her policies multiple times.

“She almost hates Equestrians, for some reason. She’s smart, and usually does what’s best for the hive as a whole, but she doesn’t like much individualism. Only her closest advisors are allowed to truly think for themselves all the time. And even then, they have to agree with her, or offer something better, or she won’t even try to listen to them. Your average drone wasn’t allowed to think for himself anywhere except for the privacy of his personal sleeping space. Even on a mission, a drone officer is sent along to do the thinking.”

“And what were you?”

“A high-end officer. I was actually among the best. Intelligence, skill, and ability. I was among the best in all of those. But, unlike most of them, I chose to adhere to a moral code. I chose to listen to my emotions when they told me that what was happening was wrong. That led to me publicly disagreeing with Chrysalis multiple times. Eventually, she got fed up. She warned me, but I didn’t care. When I got thrown out, I told her that I’d rather be an outcast than be in a hive that commits horrible acts.”

“Horrible acts? Such as?”

“Drones and drone officers were given free reign to do what they wished to their victims. Changelings feed on love, but we can also take it. When we take love, we get it even stronger, but it weakens the victim over time, and can even lead to death. Drones and drone officers commonly seemed to choose that option. Of course, it looks like a natural death. In a way, it is. The changeling itself doesn’t kill the victim. It just weakens the victim until nature itself kills it.”

“That’s awful!” I was disgusted. But what followed disgusted me even more.

“When I said free reign, I meant it. Whatever they wanted, whether it was emotions or physical actions. Yes, I do mean sex. Officers and drones weren’t punished if they convinced their victims to reproduce. Nor were they punished for raping and/or killing them. If anything, officers that commonly did were rewarded for being willing to do what was ‘necessary.’ I despised that. It was one of the main causes of our disagreements.”

“I can imagine. How long ago was this?”

“Uh… fifteen years?”

“…Fifteen?” I furrowed my brow, confused. "You don't look that old. What were you, eight?"

“Changelings don’t look that much different when they’re 150 than when they’re twenty, Firestar. What are you, thirty?”

“Twenty-six.”

“I’m forty-one.”

Whoa. “You’re almost twice my age!”

He chuckled. “Trust me, I don’t feel it.”

We laughed. Then something occurred to me.

“If you feed off of emotions, can you feel them, as well?”

“Yes, although certain emotions are much harder to achieve. We don’t feel lust nearly as often, nor is it actually that easy to fall in love. We recognize attractiveness, but that isn’t actually a very large boost. Although the incredibly unlikely has happened.”

“Incredibly unlikely? You mean a Changeling falling in love almost immediately?”

“Pretty much. And yes, before you ask, there are some Equestrians that have a little bit of Changeling DNA in them. Emphasis on little, though. Equestrian DNA almost always overpowers changeling DNA by far. There have been incidents, though.”

“Does that DNA give them anything?”

“Sometimes they feel drawn towards other Changelings, in some way. Sometimes repelled. Sometimes it’s some completely different effect, like increased magical or flying aptitude. Or increased receptiveness or understanding of others’ emotions, though that could also just be the type of person they are. No special abilities, if that’s what you’re thinking. And there isn’t always an effect at all.”

“Can a Changeling tell?”

“No. For all I know, you, Leon, or anyone else here could be swimming in Changeling ancestry.” Jackson leaned in, as if there was someone else there that he didn’t want hearing the next bit. “Although,” he added quietly, “if you ask me, it wouldn’t actually surprise me that much if you or Allen actually have some. You both are pretty accepting of differences, big and small.”

“I’m just logical.” I replied, although inside, I was wondering if I actually did have some Changeling, in my blood.

After a few more neat little facts from the info-dump-of-a-conversation that we were having, we walked out, and started chatting about any random thing that popped into mind. Weather, specialties, past experiences, jokes, whatever.

We had a grand old time, and I, for one, respected him for placing so much of his trust in me. I mentally promised him that not only would I never betray that trust, I’d find some way to repay it.

Little did I know, that just being an unconditional friend was good enough for him. Although saving each others’ lives multiple times probably helped, too.