Native Interference...

Chrysalis moved through the halls quickly, doing her best to avoid eye-contact with the other ponies and staff moving about from room to room. The security guards had already been briefed on the disguise of her choice, subtly acknowledging her behind their helmets. She could taste disdain, fear and disgust when she passed them, the bitter mix leaving a sour taste in her mouth and an uncharacteristic pit in her stomach. She decided she did not like the feeling, whatever it was.

As she took the elevator to Liam's office, she dropped the disguise, her carapace shining underneath the white lights above. The passing stone and rock beyond the rickety elevator doors caught her interest for only a moment before she fell back upon the retinue of questions she needed to ask of Princess Luna. She had not felt so... weak. Not even as a larva had she felt this sense of vulnerability. If Liam and Luna held to their word, then a bright future awaited the Changeling race.

So she hoped.

The doors came open with a creak, the shuttering metal splaying apart and revealing a long stone hallway with grates supported over unfinished cavern floor below. The smell of the cave was not musty, though there was a dampness in the air. The pony behind the desk further down the hallway looked up from a stack of papers and stared. For a few moments, neither of them said a word to each other, before finally, the mustached stallion spoke.

"Hello, Queen Chrysalis," he stated monotonously.

She felt the sudden urge to bark orders at him, to have him show respect more enthusiastically, but the words died on her tongue as soon as he turned back to his paperwork.

"You may proceed to the office now," he said in that same, droning tone.

Chrysalis felt as though he were sapping all of the energy from her in just speech alone. A hint of a taste of emotions hung in the air, but only the faintest thing. She could hardly taste it. She decided against interrogating the blank, mustached stallion and pressed forward, shaking off the unease he planted within her chest. Her hooves thudded against the metal grates and she stopped before an unassuming wooden door. She turned to the secretary again, and he nodded at her. She walked over to the door and turned the handle, opening it slowly until she stepped into an office filled with bookshelves and tables covered in thick sheets of paper.

Unfinished limestone walls and partially constructed plyboard furnishings surrounded a cheap-looking table, and seated behind it, a pitch-black alicorn with teal, cat-like eyes. The alicorn mare looked at her, and despite the obvious signs of fatigue on her muzzle, her eyes were alert. This may be dangerous.

"Queen Chrysalis," the mare greeted.

Vague memories and information about a certain fall-from-grace swirled to the forefront of her mind. She cautiously approached the desk and examined the alien paperweights and the globe on its surface. She looked up to the mare and her mouth opened slowly, a conspiratorial whisper pushing past her lips.

"Am I speaking to Nightmare Moon, or Princess-"

"Director Moon," the alicorn clarified, then closed a drawer on the desk, something rolling to the end within it. She stood from her chair and towered over Chrysalis from behind the desk.

"And where's Liam then?" Chrysalis asked.

Nightmare Moon paused.

"Incapacitated."

Chrysalis knew a lie when she heard one, though tasting it surely helped in identification.

"A coup?" she asked suspiciously.

"No. He is... unwell," she said carefully. It was closer to the truth.

Chrysalis took a step back from the desk, eyeing Nightmare Moon with alert eyes. She wondered if her summoning was an elaborate trap, meant to ensnare a loose-end now that Liam was gone. She suppressed the growing unease in her gut and took a step foward.

"With the human gone, what about our deal?" she asked, motioning with a transluscent wing to a chair across the table.

Nightmare Moon did not move from her place behind the desk, but continued staring at Chrysalis with those cat-like eyes. Her hoof moved slowly across the wood surface before finally resting on something small. She sighed.

"It stands. Tonight, I shall be meeting with Princess Celestia to speak on your behalf, requesting citizenship and land allotment near this facility. Is it possible for you to construct a new hive?" Nightmare Moon asked.

Chrysalis snorted through her nose, "possible, yes, but it's going to take a while."

Nightmare Moon paused, looking down at some papers before looking up at Chrysalis again with a ghost of a smile.

"We will see about that," she said with a small measure of amusement, "as for my meeting, I hope for the conversation to be productive, but I fear that recent events have muddied the waters, somewhat due to my own mistakes."

Chrysalis noted the apparent regret in her tone, and a miasma of frustration and forlorn confusion sat there too.

"I see. Why am I here?"

Nightmare Moon fixed her attention back on the Changeling Queen.

"I need to speak with you privately regarding the nature of your continued association with the Bureau. Liam gave you generalizations, and I now have concrete details. Would you like to read you the brief?"

"I'd rather read it myself if it's all the same to you, Director Moon."

Nightmare Moon smiled once more, a genuine smile this time, though still burdened by something.

"You can call me Moon, Queen Chrysalis," she replied.

She picked up a paperweight on her desk, lifting it in her hooves and placed it on top of another paper that was already atop another stack of papers. She produced a folder which she then passed to the changeling with her magic. Chrysalis took it with her own and flipped the folder open, scouring the contents on the pages within. Her eyes briefly hovered at the top of the page, re-reading the location.

"The Griffon Kingdom... why?"

"As it stands, they are the most outwardly aggressive in the Equestrian diplomatic theater. I want to be sure that any communication issues are made aware to our... people," she said with a murmur, "when they happen, and what action needs to be taken to continue our operations."

Chrysalis licked at a fang, trying to hide her disdain for the new assignment.

"It's... remarkably cold in Griffonstone, Moon," she said, concerned for her drones. Now that there were so few of them, they needed to be in the greatest of health, lest the whole hive suffer.

Nightmare Moon stood straighter.

"I am aware. We will have a solution for your changelings soon. Would you walk with me? You may leave that there," she nodded towards the folder. Chrysalis paused for a moment before nodding in acceptance. They left through the door she had entered from and walked down the stone hallway. Chrysalis paused and found herself drawn more to the subtle despair floating about the lunar princess.

She decided to broach the subject.

"What happened to Liam exactly?"

Nightmare Moon stiffened but did not stop moving. Her eyes closed gently and when they reopened, there was an implicit warning within them, one that made Chrysalis shudder with its coldness. The mustached stallion did not notice.

"I would prefer we do not speak about it, Queen Chrysalis. How many of your changelings are still embedded within Canterlot?"

Chrysalis was shocked by the question, something Nightmare Moon made quick note of. Chrysalis regained her composure and answered, stepping into the elevator. She felt a sense of unease with the difference in their stature as she stood beside Nightmare Moon.

"A few. One of the originals was Fleur," she said quietly.

Nightmare Moon hummed, as though she had known the answer. She turned her head towards Chrysalis.

"I implore you to reinfiltrate, that I may have ears in the Equestrian court."

The sound of the doors closing was not deafening before, but it was at that moment. Chrysalis was shocked; it hadn't been long since her kind were rather crudely banished from the capitol, but now? Now a former Princess of Equestria was asking her to infiltrate it once again.

When the doors finally shut and the elevator lurched upwards, a thought crossed her mind. If she needed the courts spied upon... what had changed between her and the Equestrian government?

"Aren't you those ears?"

Nightmare Moon sighed and her eyebrows did a small jump, turning her head away from Chrysalis.

"I fear I have used up my credibility as of late, and if I have not, then I surely will tonight," she said.

Chrysalis did not like the feeling of being out of the loop. She also felt a weight sitting within her again, but the nature of it had changed. It felt... lighter, but it was still there. She silently cursed her inability to taste her own emotions, seeking to understand what this feeling was. Her mouth moved when her mind did not, and she reflexively asked a question.

"Why do you trust me?"

Nightmare Moon was silent for a moment, then turned those catlike eyes upon her.

"I do not," she said simply.

That weight twisted a little.

"I am giving you the chance to earn that trust, as Liam did. His vision encompasses a better world for all, pony and changeling, griffon and dragon, on and on. A safer world. That is why I need your expertise; a network of communication and infiltration to sway events to our favor," she explained.

"I thought the ACB wasn't a political organization," Chrysalis responded.

"'Tis not. Our mission is to create a safer world, regardless of species. We will dabble in politics as the need arises."

The elevator doors opened and Nightmare Moon gestured to the Changeling.

"Your stop," she said politely.

"Wait," Chrysalis interrupted, "what other species are joining the ACB?"

Nightmare Moon wore a determined look upon her face.

"All of them, in time. I will call for you when things are ready."

"Hmph, alright then," Chrysalis said as she left the elevator. The doors began to close.

She turned back to the Director.

"Moon?"

"Yes?"

"You may call me Chrysalis," the Changeling Queen said, a vulnerable look in her eyes. Through the crack of the doors, just when they were about to shut, she saw Nightmare Moon smile softly.

"I think she likes you."

Gault shrugged off the comment, staring forward into the coming light of dawn. He eyed the close griffoness, who had yet to leave his side. He guessed she sought him out due to his actions previously. He caught her looking at him and she quickly looked away.

"I don't think so, 'sides, never been good with animals," he whispered.

Anna sped up and brushed her glasses further up her nose. The early morning air was cool, but already, Gault could feel the heat of the sun through the trees. It was going to get hot, and the sooner they found shelter, the better. Not to downplay the inherent danger of being stuck in a forest with the disease as well.

"I don't think that applies here. They have a language and-"

"So do ze dolphins, Anna," Victor rasped.

Anna looked back to his sweaty, ragged face, trailing behind them. His bald head glistened under a ray of sunlight.

"Your point being?"

Victor gave her a stern look.

"You do not sex ze dolphins," he whispered back, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Anna recoiled violently, as though struck. Her mouth gaped for a moment, processing the statement in several layers of deep-fried disgust and disbelief. It took her a minute, but finally, words came to her lips with a repulsed sneer.

"Ew! What are you talking about?" she hissed.

"Shuttit, both a'ya," Gault grunted. He stopped and fell to a crouch.

The other humans stopped, and moving around Gault, watched as he caught the attention of the griffoness again. He beckoned her over. She tentatively approached and he began drawing in the dirt with a stick. He decided to opt for what he believed to be a fairly recognizable depiction of a house; four lines comprising a box, two angled lines comprising a roof.

The blank look she gave at the drawing did not instill him with confidence. Then, he noticed her eyes light up in recognition. Her beak twisted slightly, and she looked back to up to him.

"Home? Base? Fuckin'... castle?" he whispered to her, then pointed at his eyes, then to the trees around them.

She chirped in response. Gault tilted his head.

"Where?"

Gault recognized the look of frustration on her features. He was probably wearing the exact same one.

"Maybe ze don't have understanding of pictograms?"

Gault and the griffoness held eye contact for a little while, and it seemed as though the gears in her head began turning. She eyed the trees and looked up into the sky, then towards the rising sun, rays filtering through the trees.

"I don't remember you being a xenobiologist, Victor," Anna responded.

Her eyes scrunched up.

"I am not," he whispered.

She looked to the North. Calculations behind her eyes.

"Then why are you talking?"

She nodded to herself. Gault could feel a conclusion was imminent.

"I am trying to be helpful," Victor defended himself.

She pointed to the North and Gault nodded back to her. She almost smiled, both of them sharing some sense of pride in having communicated despite the lack of language.

"Mm. We're moving again, no sandbaggin' please," Gault rose. The griffoness looked into her satchel and was ruffling around with some papers while the others prepared to set off again.

"What does zat even mean?" Victor asked after a few moments.

Something cracked further into the trees to their East. Gault extended his arms, pistol aimed in that direction. The others froze, watching with wide eyes. The griffoness lowered her body to the ground in a cat-like pose, tail slowly swishing from left to right. From within the forest, another muted crack, and sniffling.

Crying. Some strange, wounded mutterings. It sounded like a kid, speaking in some foreign language.

From behind a tree, Gault caught a glimpse of orange. Slowly shuffling towards them was... something. Gault struggled to recognize it, a red mop of hair atop its head, very small in frame. It trudged forward, head lolling back and fatigue in its face. Its eyes were huge, and in them, Gault saw a look he'd seen before.

Same look his father had after the Falklands. It was traumatized or it was infected, facial features stuck in that horrible look, like he'd seen before. Area-14 had its fair share of traumatized-looking zombies. And this thing... this little horse, was wearing that same look.

"Baby horse?" Anna whispered.

"Ze legs are too short, maybe a pony?"

"It's comin' this way," Gault said, eyeing the creature.

As it drew nearer, he could see bits of twigs and leaves stuck in her fur, blood seeping down her sides and her legs. The sight immediately put him on high-alert, his muscles tightening and his grip becoming firmer on the pistol. His finger slid onto the trigger and depressed lightly, ready for whatever would come next.

"It's a kid, Gault," Anna hissed.

The creature sniffled, letting out a feminine murmur as it stumbled forward in shock. Gault didn't want to take any chances. He kept his pistol trained on it as it drew closer. Closer and closer, then he'd shoot. Patience.

"Disease don't discriminate, don't forget that," Gault grumbled.

"Are you going to shoot ze pony?"

Gault watched as it finally realized they were there. It let out a small squeak and tried to turn back to run, but fell into the leaves and brush. It squirmed for a moment before soft cries permeated the woods. Gault approached, pistol leveled at the creature, when the griffoness suddenly threw herself between them.

Gault almost pulled the trigger.

She narrowed her eyes and drew her claw across the air in a swift motion. She was telling him to stop.

"Get out of the way," Gault growled.

The griffoness did not comply.

His eyes found hers again and there was an unspoken argument between them. She said something back to the creature, and after a few moments, it responded in-between cries. It had the voice of a small child, that much he knew. But these were two different species, one of which was clearly a predator, while the other was prey.

Gault sighed. He lowered his pistol ever so slightly and muttered.

"Arright," he grumbled.

He turned over his shoulder to the other two.

"Anna, can ya help it?"

Her eyes widened, then she took a hesitant step forward, inspecting the creature from a distance. After a few moments of silence, she turned back to Gault.

"I'm not a vet," she said. The answer did not appease Gault's frustrations.

Gault glanced between the griffoness and the horse-like creature. The griffoness was giving him a hard look, one that he grimaced at, looking to Anna pleadingly.

"Aye, but yer a doctor, right?"

"Virologist," she corrected.

"Shut yer fookin' mouth an' help the wee thing," he ordered quietly. She reached into her bag and produced a set of gloves that smelled faintly of alcohol, then produced a small case with a red cross upon it.

She gingerly made her way over to the creature and Gault could see it recoil and shudder at the sight of Anna. Anna cooed at it and tried to be soothing, shushing its cries and slowly crouching down beside it, stroking its fur. After a few minutes of relaxing the small thing, she began to wipe away the blood with sterilized wipes and set to doing what she could to patch it up. Gault scowled at the griffoness, noting she looked quite proud of herself, before she too went over to the creature and began to converse with it, chirping and cooing much like Anna.

"If she infects us, best believe I'm gunna kill ya before she gets me," Gault whispered, looking at the griffoness.

Marshal Greifern sat at his desk, eyes unfocused and brow splayed wide under massaging talons. He did not like his position, nor the associated responsibilities attached to it, even more so with the knowledge that the scouting parties sent to Sugar Maple Grove had not returned within the allotted time frame. His feathers shook as he let out a raspy sigh. He was an old bird, and too long led packs of greenfeathers. They didn't understand respect. They didn't understand honor. So quick were they to vie for any scrap of credibility or recognition amongst the higher ranks, to disregard protocol, to forget their training in the most crucial of moments and now seemed no different. He surmised they likely encountered some sort of snag, operational obstruction, or they may have well been caught by the Cobblerock sentries. In all situations, he knew the high Marshal would hold him accountable.

This information did not sit particularly well with him. His graying feathers ruffled within his coat, agitated and uneasy. Looking to the beige walls of his office, then to the painted oak door, he knew he had to throw open that red slab of wood and Escape to a place where he could find some brief respite. He let out a wet cough, catching spittle and red spots upon his handkerchief. He felt his growing dissatisfaction with his condition becoming too much and stood from his chair, taking his leave past that red painted door and out into the hallway.

He strode down the halls of the Military Intelligence Department until he arrived at a pair of massive bronze doors leading outside. The sky overhead was overcast with black clouds; he suppressed a cough in his throat. The stormy weather always bothered him, but he was far too old to be outside in such a blighted sky. The doors opened creakily outwards to reveal a pair of guards standing before him. They bowed their heads low before he passed between them. Greifern stepped outside into the stormy air and blinked against the water droplets clinging to his eyes as he looked up into the darkening sky.

His wife loved the storms. A pang of grief struck him. Now, they only served as a reminder to what he had lost. With a hollow feeling in his chest, he strode down the steps of the building and out into the courtyard, populated by barren trees and lackluster shrubs. The droplets plodded into the gravel around him as he sought a small alcove to watch the rain from. He would relax here, just for a moment, should all go to plan.

"Marshal Greifern!"

He sighed at the words, at his name. The voice that carried them was one such greenfeather. He did his best to conceal the scowl forming on his beak and turned to the voice, seeing a young griffoness approaching beneath the cover of the veranda. She looked at him with wide eyes, perhaps still unaware of her superior's pure indifference toward her. She wore the standard uniform of the military with the insignia of Intelligence emblazoned across her greatcoat; feathers crossed behind an eye, a talon wide beneath them. Hardly the most original of designs. Her name was Seressa, she had been with him for some years now, and she was quite talented in her duties. He supposed that was why he tolerated her presence in the first place, but he did so begrudgingly.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" he asked her, making sure to hide his disdain as she approached. She bowed her head respectfully.

"Forgive me, Marshal," she began in her hushed voice.

"I've just received word that we may have a situation at Sugar Maple Grove."

His head moved forward, yellow eyes more attentive.

"And?"

His gaze fell to the rolled paper beneath her wing, producing it with his talons. She flinched at the sudden movement, but he had no patience for courtesy. As the scroll unfurled, he heard her shuffling on the pathway. Nervousness?

When his eyes made contact with the first few lines of Low Griffonian, he understood why.

"One party lost and Cobblerock razed to the ground," he said stiffly.

"Yes sir."

He looked up to her with narrow eyes. This was bad news. It was best to filter through and verify that the bad news was the only news, especially at a time like this.

"How? How do we know this? Is this counterintelligence?"

Lieutenant Seressa shook her head, her green plume atop her head bouncing with the motion.

"Outpost Gildenclaw confirms smoke at Cobblerock. The party headed by Captain Quickflight made contact one day ago. Bodies... or remnants of bodies, sighted from afar, as well as strange animal calls. The party waved off further reconnaissance once they heard the noises."

He shot her a look.

"Was this the work of a beast? A pack of beasts?" he asked.

"Unknown, sir. They reported multiple sources of the calls."

Greifern let out an anxious sigh. What was intended to be a simple scouting mission may have become an international incident. He held his tongue for a few moments as he pondered what to do.

"Have this report copied and sent to the High Marshal, the Public Minister and the Dragoon Commander. I need constant communication with Outpost Gildenclaw, double their rotations and triple the staff," he ordered, passing the report back to her.

"Right away, sir," she said excitedly.

As she flew away, his scowl exploded across his face. Worry sat deep in his gullet. Could she not see the turmoil this situation would bring? They would need to speak to the Equestrians about this, and he feared that they would not be understanding of the circumstances, nor the results. Greifern shook his head and looked out into the storm once more.

Author's Note

And here we have Chapter 28! Howdy all.

Hope all is well with you guys and gals, leave comments, critiques and opinions below. I'll catch you all for the next one.

Caspian