Cookie Crumble was nervous, and he hated it. Being nervous was dangerous to him, as being nervous meant he was likely to make mistakes. In his line of work, it usually wasn’t a big deal; working at the rail yard was for sure dangerous. But he’d been there for years and knew what he was doing—it was second nature at this point. Him being stressed or under pressure usually meant there was work to be done, an accident, or a sudden change in plans that wasn’t something he’d been prepared for, and so his coworkers wouldn’t be paying any attention to him. So any small mistake in his appearance: an eye color change, an ear missing, a whole leg seeming to melt off, would usually be fixed in an instant, quick enough for anyone who possibly had noticed to shrug it off as a trick of the eyes. Usually. There, of course, had been near misses in the past, but he was certain in his disguise having held.
Here though? Here he was being watched, he knew. There were ponies standing just outside the door, likely the guards who had brought him here. He could both hear and sense them, their residual magic and emotions wafting through the door like a draft. He couldn’t tell how many there were outside, but as he’d been escorted here, he’d seen how busy the whole building had been. It was rather odd, seeing the police station in this formerly quiet and small town so busy, especially in a building not designed to handle so much activity.
The guards had put him in this room and told him to wait, but as there wasn’t any way to tell the time in this room, he had no idea how long he’d been waiting. Longer than half an hour at least, and the longer it took, the longer there was for his nerves to get to him. The dull appearance of the room didn’t help. There wasn’t anything in here to distract himself. Just a heavy wooden table, the dim light hanging from the ceiling, a clunky fan in the corner, and the two chairs on either side of the table, one of which he was sitting in. It was clear the room hadn’t been used in quite a while, with the peeling wallpaper, the flickering light, and the pungent smell of dust filled the room. The floor was scratched up, so he guessed this room wasn’t even designed for interrogation and had been emptied out and retrofitted, as there wasn’t any other place available. That had become increasingly common lately, with everything happening with the sudden war…
Which he assumed was why he'd been called here in the first place. And that’s why he was so worried.
The door handle jiggled for a moment before the door opened slowly, and a pony entered the room, talking with someone behind him. He only managed to catch the last bit of what he said before the door closed behind him, and he turned to face him. It was an earth pony with a cyan coat and yellow mane. He wore a suit, one more made for work than for being fancy. And allof that was raising huge red flags.
If Cookie knew how to make his disguise sweat, it would be by now.
"Upper Coat. I'm from S.M.I.L.E. I apologize for the rather abrupt nature of this meeting, I'm sorry for that. There are a great many things that require attention, as I'm sure you are aware. And today, you, Mister Cookie Crumble, are one of them." He'd sat down across from Cookie at the table, placing a small stack of folders, binders, and papers beside him, and proceeded to shuffle through them for a moment, before finding what he'd been looking for. "Cookie Crumble, that is your name, isn't it?"
Cookie could only blink, struggling to process everything that had just been said to him. "Uh…" He readjusted himself in his chair from his uncomfortable position. "Yes, it is." He gulped. "S.M.I.L.E? I've never heard of that…"
"That would mean you'd be lucky," Upper Coat replied, not bothering to look up at Cookie since entering the room.
Cookie could extrapolate enough from the tone at which that response had been said. He didn't like it. Not one bit. "May I ask why I’m being interrogated?” He began, glancing down at the papers Upper Coat had placed in front of him, unable to read the upside-down text. He attempted to keep his voice calm. “I’m a citizen of this country, I’ve lived here over a decade, and I’ve never committed a crime… This all seems rather uncalled for, especially since I’ve yet to be informed that I’ve even been charged with anything.”
“You’re an immigrant from New Mareland,” Upper Coat asked, “are you not?”
Ah, geez, they were going really deep with this one, were they? They couldn’t possibly know, could they? Cookie ground his teeth together, biting his tongue. How could they know?
“You don’t have a registered place of birth on your Marelandian birth certificate,” Upper Coat continued. “Care to explain that?"
Whew, a question that he could actually answer. And one that he knew would come up eventually.
"I was born to a frontier family." Cookie shrugged. "We didn't live close to anywhere; out in unincorporated territory. I didn't even receive any sort of papers until I was eight years old, including that one. It just didn't matter that much at the time." His patience was beginning to run thin.
"Hm." Coat didn't say anything, only placing his birth certificate off to the side and scribbling something down in a notepad. "What about your immigration papers? It says your parents are deceased, and that you only have one living relative is a sister. There are no records of your parents, either living or dead. Care to explain that?"
He sighed, internally groaning. Raising his voice slightly, he huffed. "I cannot be expected to explain or understand every single typographical error that shows up in my records. Nor should I have to explain my entire life story to you. This is insane. Have I seriously been dragged here, away from work, so some pony from some shadowy government agency can sit here and critique my passport!? There's a war going on you know. I'm sure you clerks have better things to be doing than heckling everyday ponies." There was a buzzing in his bottom leg, a signal that his disguise was beginning to fail. He was quick to fix it, refreshing his cover, but he sincerely hoped nothing else in view had begun to fall apart. He had never been a creature prone to emotional outbursts, a constant among his species, but this Upper Coat was really grating on him, talking in his monotone voice...
"And how do you feel about this war, Mister Crumble?" The agent asked, closing the folder in front of him, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"You're changing the subject," Cookie grunted."I still have yet to be informed of what charges are being filed against me, if that's even why I'm here."
"Espionage, treason, and conspiracy against Equestria, if you really must know."
"Espionage!?" Cookie rose to his feet, slamming a hoof against the wooden table. “What evidence could you possibly have of me being a spy!?”
“Sit down sir.” Upper Coat had twisted his hoof in an almost unnoticeable way, but now that Cookie was looking down at him, he could see a metallic piece wrapped around his leg. A concealed knife, no doubt. He stood there for a second, both him and Coat glaring at each other, before he slowly sat back down, exhaling slowly to calm himself down. This… was not good.
“Mister Crumble.” Coat stacked most of the papers up again and pushed them aside without moving his eyes from him. “Please do answer truthfully. Are you a Changeling?”
He leaned back in his seat, legs crossed. “If you really thought I was an enemy spy working for the bugs, do you really think I’d just tell you if you asked?”
“Not an ‘enemy’ agent.” Coat clarified. “Ever since the Canterlot attack a few years ago, the exact scale of Changeling immigrants living in Equestria has become apparent. By some metrics, they might be the third most populous non-pony group in the country behind Griffons and Dragons.”
“So what, you tried tracking them all so you could deport them all, I assume?” Cookie inquired.
“Quite the inverse, actually.” Coat corrected. “Most of them were equestrian citizens. They’d been born here, and so we couldn’t deport them even if we’d wanted to. And for the one we could have, well, we were going to go and give Chrysalis more ponypower, were we?” He shrugged. “Princess Celestia might not have wanted to prepare for the war in hopes that diplomacy would stop it before it could begin, but we saw the writing on the wall and knew what was coming.”
The two of them sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the muffled voices of everyone outside. Cookie eventually spoke up, readjusting himself in his seat. “Why are you telling me this? I’m not a Changeling, if that’s what you think.”
“You never answered my question if you were one," Coat said. “Is this your answer?”
“Correct.” It was getting very hot in here, and he wasn’t sure if it was just him. Clearly, they didn’t want to kidnap and execute him, or something, but he still wasn’t sure that giving up his identity was a good idea.
“You sure that’s what you want to answer? Because I might have something here for any potential Changelings…” A small envelope was slid across the table towards him. “A special opportunity, if you could call it. One where you’ll be out of the public eye, away from cities, and safe from any… reprisals you may face should your true identity be discovered. And a place where your race’s unique skills could, potentially, be put to use.”
“And so you can watch over them to make sure they’re not spies.”
“Or, perhaps, the other way around? Not like you can sneak a pony into a Changeling hive, after all.”
Upper Coat finally stood up since entering the room, glancing at his watch as he did so. “Apologies. I’ve spent a little too long here.” He swept all of his papers back into their folders before tucking them under his arm again. “I’d really recommend taking it. We may be at war with your kind, Cookie, but Princess Celestia wishes for peace once it’s all over. This is the first step towards that. Her generosity should... not be taken lightly.” He pushed the chair back in and made his way back over to the door.
“Wait!” Cookie stopped him before he could leave. He’d opened the sealed envelope, finding the contents to give him even more questions. It was only a train ticket, a single one, with the time and date printed as being two weeks away. However, the destination had been blacked out in ink, a large spot on the tiny piece of paper. The last thing was a note, folded, writing on the inside visible. Considering the note had been sealed with a royal seal, he had no possible idea what it could say. He had several questions, and he debated asking each one, but in the end he settled on the most pressing. “How did… how did you know I was a Changeling?”
“Hey, you said it, not me.” Coat chuckled, finally breaking his stoic demeanor since he’d entered the room. “It was a hunch. From all that data we’d gathered from other Changeling’s we’d discovered. Your information matched common mistakes Changelings make when attempting to hide their identity. Oh, and your eyes changed colors halfway through.”
A knock at the door, and it was unlocked and opened. “Please escort Mister Crumble here to the front door. I assume he can make it home by himself.” And he stepped out into the hallway, out of sight. Cookie was again alone, left under the flickering light.
Cookie Crumble stared down at the envelope in his hooves. An opportunity..?
Ponies passed by him as he stood on the steps of the Police station, the roar of city traffic in his ears.
Well, he had been planning on quitting his job for a while now. Maybe...
"Ah, they got you too?"
A voice, one he didn't know. He looked up, finding a purple unicorn standing a few steps above, holding a similar note. He stepped down to stand beside him. "Wasn't aware there was anyone else in the city." He gave him a wink, Cookie understanding the message. "I suppose I'll be seeing you at the train station?"
"I..." he looked down at the letter again. "I don't know yet."
"Well..." The purple not-pony placed a hoof on his shoulder. "I don't really think things are gonna get much better for us in this small town. Besides..." He pointed to something behind him. "You don't want to let her down, do you?"
Cookie looked to where the unicorn had been pointing. Hung up on the wall was a poster, a new one.
All creatures are needed!
Do your part! Your Princesses need YOU!
There were six silhouettes, a Unicorn, Pegasus, Earth Pony, Thestrial, and even a Dragon and Griffon along the top. Each held various tools and weapons. And in the center stood Celestia, her wings unfurled, shooting out rays of light that burned away the dark shadows that closed in around her along the edges of the poster. It was a striking image, certainly.
By the time he'd turned back, the unicorn was gone, blending and disappearing into the streets like Changelings were known to do, leaving only him and his letter yet again.
Yes... maybe being a spy would be fun.
Author's Note
The name Upper Coat came from the fact I was watching Armor Modelling videos at the time lol
