Pax Chrysalia

Chapters

The Victory Parade
The Royal Visit
The Love Harvest
The Sympathizer
The Pony Volunteers
Loyalty
By Queen's Command
Canterlot At Night
Revenge
Visitors
The Ideal And The Real

The Victory Parade

“We were over extended, understaffed, under equipped, and under prepared. A post-war Equestria was almost as dangerous as an Equestria at war.”

“And how did you solve that?” The interviewing pony, a young cream coloured unicorn held a pen over a clipboard with her magic, and sat back in her lounger.

Jachs’s chitinous black hooves placed themselves in a triangle shape as he closed his eyes in thought. “It wasn’t easy. Eventually, though, it got routine. When you’re constantly expecting a sniper’s bullet in the head it even starts to feel normal after a while. Not a good normal, mind, but normal.” Jachs shakily lifted a whiskey up to his lips with his own greenish magicks and downed it in one gulp. “I don’t know how I would have survived without my friends.”

“Friends, Generalmajor?” The interviewer questioned, adjusting her glasses.

Jachs returned a wry smile. “Of course. You didn’t think changelings were such heartless monsters that we didn't have friends, did you?” He prodded cheekily, causing the unicorn to fidget.

“I only meant-” She started, but he cut her off.

“It’s okay. I’m teasing you.” He dismissed her concern with a wave of a hoof and a wry, charismatic smile.

The mare sighed apologetically before continuing. “Why don’t you start off with an account of the first days of the occupation?”

The general-major nodded. “I suppose- eh let’s start, actually- let’s start when I met my oberstleutnant.”

-From “Memoirs Of A Changed Changeling” by Herr Jachs, Canterlot press, Equestrian Protectorate, 1,045.

Jachs’ hooves rubbed solemnly into his temples- the castle of Canterlot was large, but its throne more so and its responsibilities somehow even grander than its size. He thumbed through logistics and occupation reports with increasing anxiety. Resistance cells were innumerable and growing bolder by the day, the fighting in Canterlot wasn’t even over yet--and the news of Equestrian capitulation had done little to dissuade the fighting spirits of the holdouts left in Canterlot.

Worse-- Queen Chrysalis was planning to visit and hold one hell of a victory parade, and she expected all to be in attendance. Jachs stared at the report bearing the Vesalipolis seal on his desk with green eyes of despair. On his third day of no sleep and still yet the world had more to throw at him.

“Generalmajor!” Jachs glanced up at the ‘ling in officer’s dress who made her way into his office. Smaller than he with trademark pupil-less eyes of a changeling, deep purple. Like the endless velvet bliss of Celestia’s bedchamber he’d been eying with increasing envy since he first glanced into it. He tried to smile but the fatigue burned in his eyes, he could only grimace.

“Come in, come in.” He disarmingly waved her in.

“We just got news- a victory parade, general-major?” She asked quizzically. “Isn’t it a little…dangerous, for the queen to be in enemy territory so soon?”

Jachs thought about lying to the young officer, he really did. Perhaps he would have if the mental power to form one didn’t take so much effort. “Yes.” He responded, curtly. “It’s dangerous. Stupid. Careless. Needlessly cruel-- and worthless in the grand scheme of things. A royal horn-measuring contest with the opponent a princess who's already fled to New Mareland!” With those words it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Jachs held the form in his hoof-- this was going to happen, and there was nothing they could do about it. He could only brace himself for what was coming.

Sensing his defeatism, and with a welcome if surprising inflection of concern in her voice, the officer-- an Oberstleutnant, spoke. “Well- you’re the one in charge of the actual planning of the parade, right?” Jachs, still reeling from his outburst and the pounding headache he just gave himself, could only nod. “Why don’t you…dial things back a bit?” She suggested. “Maybe we keep her on a small, easily defendable street- nix the pony POW parade and have our own guards parade instead? With the queen’s guard we’ll have enough changelings to put one of us in every window. No one will even get a chance at her. She might be mad the crowd is smaller but she won’t die.”

Jachs smiled. For the first time in days, he allowed himself a smile. “Angering the queen isn’t something I’m particularly interested in…but damnit oberstleutnant that…that would work. With the sheer numbers, we could…” Jachs trailed off in thought. Back with his old jaeger team, a infantry-lead blitzkrieg was always the key to success. Perhaps they could pull off something similar here. A grand show of force. And-- showing off the tactic that won them the war in a victory parade had a bit of poetic justice to it too. “Well done, Oberstleutnant…Alcippe?” Jachs responded, finally reading her nametag.

The changeling smiled happily. “Would you like some help planning it?” She returned. Whether she noticed his fatigue or not she did not say.

“It would be very welcome,” Jachs smiled, directing her to pull up a chair to his desk. His own office was small and cramped- and they often had to reach over one another to reach this paper or that pencil. Not that either ‘ling particularly minded.

Jachs sat in his tiny office, his hooves resting on his desk in quiet contemplation. He could still hear the fanfare of the parade beyond the walls. The music; the cheering from changeling soldiers, the 21-gun salute in honor of the Queen, the flyover from the most decorated changeling airkorp aces. He knew it would not be enough. He suspected Chrysalis would have some choice words for him after this. He was correct.

As the cheering died down, he could hear heavy jackbooted hoofsteps upon the castle floor outside. Queen’s guard. Here it comes.

With a violent kick the door was thrown open well off its hinges, and in walked the glaring green eyes of the Changeling Queen flanked by several of her fanatical guards. Jachs knew better than to complain about the door. “What the hell was that, Generalmajor!?” She stared down her nose at the changeling beneath her. “Where were my POWs? Where were my pony supporters? What happened to them swearing themselves to my service-- where was ANYTHING I asked for!?” Jachs would have been afraid, but staring death in the eyes every day? The wrath of the queen was just one more gun pointed at his head.

“I’m sorry,” he responded curtly and diplomatically. “We couldn’t chance it- not with so many in the harmonic resistance still operating in Canterlot. For your safety, we had to-” Chrysalis cut him off.

“Are you telling me the changeling military machine is afraid of a bunch of weakened, cowed little ponies? You want me to hide from the people we subjugated, from the country I already BEAT!?” She bared her fangs, and just for a second Jachs saw himself reflected in her teeth. His own green eyes, shining in the royal, perfectly whitened teeth of the changeling queen. Just one more gun to his head.

“Please, Queen Chrysalis.” He returned, being especially careful with his wording. ”Everyone here, changeling and pony, knows who their rightful queen is. But all it takes is one pony with one rifle and one lucky shot, and everything you’ve worked for is over. Everything the hegemony has worked for. Everything I have worked for.”

Chrysalis’s nostrils flared in anger, but Jachs saw her fierce expression fall a little. “...Point taken, Generalmajor.” She returned. She stared into his eyes for a moment longer, something unreadable on her expression, as if she wanted to say something but did not, and turned to leave. Just as relief was beginning to wash over his shoulders, Chrysalis glanced over hers. “One more thing.” She began. “Who was in charge of the security for the parade?”

“That would be kommandant-”

She jumped down his throat before he finished. “Fire him. If you’re that worried about my safety he’s clearly useless.” With that, she and her guard marched from the office and back into the throne room. A photo op, Jachs reckoned. The queen herself in Celestia’s old throne.

Only once she had well and truly left the building and was miles away on the changeling royal airship back to Vesalipolis did Generalmajor Jachs finally let himself exhale and fall back into his office chair. “Oberstleutnant!” He called, and within moments Alcippe was in the door. She already had a fresh bottle of apple-whiskey in hoof. “Give me that. The whole bottle.” Smiling, she handed it off to him, her own magic giving way to his, and watched as her commanding officer downed half a bottle of whiskey in one long, long chug. He slammed it down on the desk, and have an exhaustive sigh.

“Was that celebration drinking or anxiety drinking?” She asked, a twinge of nerves in her voice.

“She agreed that the measures we took were necessary.” He chuckled with relief, stretching his hooves skyward with absolute relief.

”Celebration then?”

“Celebration.”

The pair shared a smile as Jachs dipped a hoof into his desk and withdrew his own personal favorite vintage. A bottle, scarlet red, of Stalliongradian vodka. He poured two shotglasses- one for him, and one for her. Alcippe took the cue to sit at the other side of his desk, and the pair magically lifted each other’s glass, and clinked them together.

”To a future…a little bit more stable than this one.” Jachs spoke, downing his in one swift swig.

“To a future a little bit more stable than this one!” Alcippe heartily returned, gratefully downing hers as well.

“You know this is just the start, Alcippe.” The Generalmajor’s tone shifted as he spoke. “The resistance-- these ponies are stubborn. Even though Equestria’s surrendered, her citizens still want to fight for her. They will keep going until they physically can’t fight anymore. It doesn’t matter what odds they’re up against, it doesn’t matter how much we throw at them-- they’ll keep going and the whole time they’ll call themselves heroes for doing it.”

“I know.” Alcippe flipped her glass around with her magic, looking very interested in the shape of it for a time. “You kind of have to admire them for that.” Jachs arched an eyeridge. “The…ponies’ fighting spirit, their loyalty-- their love for each other. It makes them a really tough nut to crack.” She continued thoughtfully. “That idea of harmony they have-- it really does sound good on paper. The more we press them on the occupation, the more they’ll just idolize their memories of the old times and fight harder to bring it back.”

“Yes…Alcippe, that’s exactly right.” Jachs was double-surprised. Both for her willingness to speak so candidly, and for her being entirely, by his reckoning, correct. “Pardon me- not to sound so shocked, I just didn’t expect anyone else to share my own views on the subject.” Jachs crossed his forehooves over one another, and leaned into his desk. “Most 'lings here have, I’m sure you’ve noticed, can be…zealous, in their interpretation of Vesalipolis’s command. I’m glad you’re one to think for yourself.” The Generalmajor doffed his cap in respect, sliding the brim up from where his horn is tucked into the little hole specifically made for it.

“I’m only speaking what I believe to be true.” Alcippe responded, her hoof dipping behind her neck to shyly scratch it. A small flush adorned her cheek as the weight of her commander’s praise pressed upon her.

“I admire soldiers who speak their mind.” Jachs responded respectfully, pouring another shot of vodka into her glass. “It certainly would be easier if we focused on reconstruction-- and integrating these ponies into the hive instead of punishing them for their part in a war we already won.”

Alcippe took her glass and knocked it back, shaking her head with the effects. “Strong?” Jachs grinned. Alcippe waved her hoof back and forth noncommittal. “If we’re going to administer this entire province- from Canterlot, Ponyville, Cloudsdale and all the way up to the Vanhoover-Acornage line we can’t do it with a firm hoof or we’ll be the monsters their propaganda made us out to be.” Jachs continued. “Oberstleutnant, I need ‘lings like you around I can count on. Can I count on you to help me?”

Still reeling from the vodka, Alcippe lifted a hoof to her chest- which now felt like it was on fire with Stalliongradian liquor, and tried to return a nod. “Yes, you can.” When she spoke her voice was scratchy with the burn of the liquid in her throat.

“Thank you, Alcippe. Go get some water.” He chuckled, taking her glass back from her. Filling it, and his to the brim, and downing both. She nodded, and went to leave- a little quicker than perhaps would be proper.

Jachs tapped a hoof against his desk in thought. That ‘ling was going places.

Author's Note

Disclaimer: not my characters, not my story

This story is based on the 'Pax Chrysalia' storyline from the EAW mod's changeling lands ending. It is simply a passion project to patch some holes in the story and bring about a more satisfying (in my opinion) ending. It is not a replacement to playing the game and in fact I recommend you to.

The Royal Visit

Jachs paced to and fro along the interview room floor. Every second step he tapped his hoof against the carpet in an attempt to jog his memory. Butter Scotch watched on with a healthy mixture of amusement and curiosity. “So,” the reporter queried, breaking up the melodic tap-thump of changeling hooves on carpet, “the thestral jaegers…”

“Must we?” Jachs took hold of a whisky shot glass and downed it in one. “I’d rather not. It’s a bad memory.” He spoke aloud, trotting a circular pattern around the couch. “Much more interesting to skip ahead a bit.”

She tapped her pen to her chin. “Come now, Generalmajor. I’m old enough to know when somepony’s hiding something from me. How is Equestria going to trust you if you even keep secrets in your memoirs?”

This seemed to bring the changeling pause. In defeat, he climbed back upon the couch and let his head fall into the cushions. “Fine.” He stared to the ceiling and let out a long sigh. “But,” he started, “I can’t tell you every single thing. National security and all that.”

“Well now I’m really interested.” She leaned forward. “So, what can you tell me, within the bounds of legality?”

-From “Memoirs Of A Changed Changeling” by Herr Jachs, Canterlot press, Equestrian Protectorate, 1,045.

Blackness. A throbbing pain. A sudden jolt of burning light. All this met Generalmajor Jachs’ eyes as he awoke this morning. Somehow he’d managed to drag himself into his office, and if the stabbing pain in his back was any indication, he’d fallen asleep over his disk. The empty shot glass and bottle of vodka painted a more thorough picture.

Almost as bad as that night he’d fallen asleep against the throne a week ago. No-- he should not think of that night again.

His chitinous black hoof found his temple and he rubbed it solemnly. The morning light peeked in through his office window. Every ray of Celestial sun was a burning bolt of pain that shot right to his temples. The Generalmajor sighed; this was going to be a long, long day.

Jachs tried his best to clean himself up using the reflection of himself in an empty vodka bottle to at least give the impression he took care of himself. He was unsuccessful. His eyes drooped, he stared blankly forwards, and he bore a grimace from the dull pain. It would have to do.

The changeling generalmajor did a small breathing exercise, a slow intake of breath then an exhale, and again. Then, he opened his office door.

There, hoof raised and poised to knock, were the shining purple eyes of the oberstleutnant Alcippe. “Generalmajor!” She quickly drew her hoof down. “I’ve been looking for you sir! We expected you at-- oh goodness.” Noticing his bearing, she visibly recoiled, baring her fangs in a cringe. “By the queen, what happened to you?” Her voice dropped low. She spoke with a surprising amount of audible concern, like ones’ older sister might after she’d seen him come home from a fight with the schoolyard bully. Jachs found it touching despite it all.

“Bad night.” He answered simply, stepping out into the light of the throne room. The sunlight was mixing with the window mosaics casting the throne room in bright and royal reds and blues. “What time is it?” He managed, leaning against a column for support.

“Three. The Queen’s airship is due within the hour. Kommandant Second Wind expected you to inspect the volunteers--” Jachs craned his head skyward and made a sound somewhere between an exasperated ‘ugh’ and a whine. Alcippe arced a hoof behind her neck and gave it a nervous scratch.

“I slept through that didn’t I?” She grimaced, again, and Jachs had his answer.

“I’ll conduct the inspection,” she quickly added. “You need to go take a quick shower and get ready. You look as bad as you feel and it wouldn’t do for Her Majesty to see you like this.”

Jachs pushed off the column and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Alcippe, really. I’m sorry to…put this upon you, but I appreciate-”

“Think nothing of it.” She chuckled softly. “What are friends for, right?”

Jachs nodded respectfully, but privately he swore that one day he’d pay her back for this. A leader does not stumble, especially on a day as important as this. If she wasn’t going to hold him accountable for it he would hold himself accountable.

Thirty minutes later and the changeling Generalmajor was a new bug. Freshly showered, the first time in days, sporting a spiffy shine to his polished chitin and having dug out his dress uniform for just such an occasion. He checked himself in the mirror and a handsome green-eyed changeling stallion stared back. The dark of his carapace contrasted nicely with the royal reds of a Generalmajor’s uniform adornments. He made sure his medals and ribbons were all attached, and winked at himself. No amount of self-care would banish the headache. Luckily, he didn’t need to be at his best for the queen, he just needed to look his best. That, his reflection assured him, was true in spades.

The East wing of the palace had been converted into a pseudo officer’s quarters. Jachs technically had a room here but more often than not he’d slump against his desk before he even had the time to make it back here. One day, perhaps, he’d fall upon that royal pony bed and let bliss take him. Today, he had work to do. His reflection agreed.

Seeing as the pair were of one mind, Jachs turned. He had to make up for lost time.

Second Wind perched against a bannister overlooking the courtyard. The oberstleutnant Alcippe was making her way up and down the lines of pony volunteers who were dressed to the nines in royal guard armor adorned with changeling tridents. The kommandant was hoping she was as happy as he was with them. He tried to see her face but he couldn’t quite read her expression at this distance.

Not that he needed to. He had done the impossible and whipped a rag-tag band of brigands, deserters and civilians into solid soldiers. There were washouts, of course, but the ones that stayed showed true promise. Each one of those ponies he was proud of and he knew damn well they were, each and everyone, perfect.

Instead, he found himself paying attention to Alcippe herself. She was such a fascinating creature. Quite unlike the bugs who were so eager to stomp their boot into his neck and jeer at him for being on the losing side; She seemed to genuinely want to do right by his people and her own. Not to mention, she was intelligent and empathetic too. All that, and she still commanded the respect due of her rank. She paradoxically carried herself with the confidence and poise of an officer and an experienced soldier.

He heard her bark a couple orders. One of his ponies shifted his stance, barely, and she leaned in to glare at him. Second Wind chuckled as she, satisfied, backed away and checked a little box on her clipboard.

What he would have given to have a commander like that back in the guard. He let a little smile creep onto his face. She had quite a nice figure too. Gray wasn’t a particularly attractive colour, per se, but she wore the uniform with enough confidence he’d even call it ‘pretty’ on her.

Or was it just her that was pretty?

…That was a strange thought. Second Wind bit his inner lip and promptly banished it deep into the recesses of his mind. There, it would never be seen again and it would be entirely and completely forgotten.

“Everypony is perfect.”

Alcippe’s voice shook him from his inner contemplations. He turned and gave a perfunctory salute, which she immediately dissuaded with a casual hoof wave. “As expected, well done Kommandant. The queen will be pleased.”

How had she gotten here so quickly? How long was he staring? His hoof fell to his side and he cleared his throat, suddenly finding her piercing purple eyes to be intimidating. “Thank you, ma’am. May I ask about the Generalmajor’s condition?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Last minute paperwork I believe. He should be here about-- well, now.”

The changeling in question trotted up in a light jog. Seeing him, Second Wind gave a quick little nod of acknowledgement, and shouted. “Officer on deck!” Everypony in the courtyard below brought their hooves up in salute in unison. Jachs smiled, returned the salute, and propped himself up on the bannister by the uniformed pegasus. “Parade…rest!” shouted Second Wind, and everypony at once dropped their hooves to a rest stance.

“Sorry I’m late.” Jachs shrugged. “Looks like you did pretty well though.”

“You’re not.” Alcippe interjected, stepping between the two stallions. “Okay, as a refresher. The Queen’s airship will hover above the castle. She and her guard will fly down, they’ll conduct an inspection of her own, and then they’ll be off in a couple hours.”

“I read the itinerary.” Jachs returned with a quiet nod. “But we all know that isn’t how it’s gonna go. Eh, Kommandant?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Generalmajor. Our Queen Chrysalis is a precise and exacting lady.” Spoke Second Wind, saying somehow nothing at all and still managing to respond.

“Horrible.” The generalmajor’s eyes rolled. “Have you been giving this one royal etiquette training too, oberstleutnant?”

“Perhaps he’s learned from his superiors...sir.” She smirked.

“That was cruel.” Jachs made a show of holding his hoof over his heart in a dramatic fashion. “If I didn’t know better I’d say her majesty in chitin had taken the form of my second.”

Alcippe arched an eyeridge. She was about to cut in, no doubt to verbally eviscerate the Generalmajor, before Second Wind found himself speaking up in her defence. “If she were,” he began, “then I’m sure she’d find your lack of professionalism in this moment offensive, and correct it.” A bit more venom snuck into Second Wind’s tone than he’d intended, and he immediately looked ashamed.

“...Sorry.” Second Wind apologized, biting his lip after a second of uncomfortable silence permeated the balcony.

Jachs shrugged. “It’s stressful, I understand.”

Alcippe nodded in agreement. “We’re all a bit wound up, Kommandant. I’m sure the Generalmajor understands that, as you’re solely responsible for the view the Queen will have of the volunteer regiments, you are under a lot of pressure.” As she spoke, she glanced Jachs’ way, who returned a nod.

“Although,” the changeling general began, “I would-- oh.” A shadow fell upon the trio as all glanced upwards. The darkened hull of the royal changeling airship blackened the sky and brought itself to a hover above the courtyard. It was magnificent. A marvel, bristling with weapons and armour like a flying battleship. It was the only changeling zeppelin still in service. A colossal beast, adorned with the changeling trident on either side and painted a shining, pure white. Even from the ground Jachs could see the guns, built in turret-like bubbles along the hull. The cabin itself was nearly the size of the entire Canterlot castle. Massive cannons, anti air weapons. It was a mobile fortress.

Most interesting of all, though. If one paid attention-- at the little lightning-rod like protrusions along the hull, you could see a sparking, shimmering field. Powered by magical Equestrian crystals, they’d managed to give it a shield not unlike the kind capable of being cast by the best unicorn mages. A facsimile, huge in scale, but all together a fine spectacle. It was an awe-inspiring sight.

Jachs noticed he could hear the uniforms of the two soldiers behind him ruffle as they stood a little straighter. He allowed himself a tiny grin.

Every visit before this one had been informal, quick, and to the point. After the war had ended the changeling military machine in general was less inclined to stand on ceremony, but today they were pulling out all the stops. This was the first real visit.

Changeling tridents flew from above the courtyard, massive flags showcasing the Queendom’s majesty adorned the old castle, hung along the walls and covering old Equestrian harmonic murals. Changeling officers stood beneath them, their gaze cast upon the pony volunteers who in turn were at attention. There was not a movement between anypony or anyling.

“It seems they are ready for us.” Queen Chrysalis’s melodic voice announced to noling in particular as she stood upon the Zeppelin’s flight deck. At either side of her were her praetorian guard, two changelings adorned in chitin-black armour carrying expensive and beautiful ceremonial lance-rifles that were nearly the size of their body. Not practical, but Queen's mercy! Did the sheer size make her feel important! Better yet, it sent a message: ‘if her guards are strong enough to wield those monsters, they’re strong enough to do anything!’

Suddenly, a heaving, panting changeling ran to her side. He was small, about the size of a pony filly, but this was a full grown changeling. The Queen’s nose wrinkled. “You are late, Seneschal.”

“I--I--...innumerable pardons, your majesty!” He spoke between rapid intakes of breath, the small male wiping his forehead with a hoof. “I couldn’t-- ugh. There was an issue with the printers, your itinerary is--” She cocked an eyeridge of warning ’is-- will have to be figured out on the-- on the fly.” His eyes found the ground. Queen Chrysalis wondered how it comforted one’s anxiety to stare through the grated floor of a changeling zeppelin’s flight deck and at the ground far below.

“Fine,” she whined with a shrug. The Canterlonians would likely have their own plans anyway. She’d see the city on her own some other time. “I’m about to descend, is that all?”

“No!” the jumpy little male was quick to add. “Canterlot is still…nnh, unstable. There could be assassins or spies anywhere. You shouldn’t do this. You know how much the ponies hate--” for the second time today, the Seneschal caught one of the Queen’s death glares and found himself cowed. “...haven’t accepted you as their rightful Queen yet. You should be careful, there could be snipers around every corner! In every window! And poisonous, treasonous words on every lip!”

The Queen of the changelings felt her eyes roll so hard they were in danger of falling out of their sockets. “You’ve made your opinions clear time and again, Seneschal. As have I. Canterlot is mine, and I will not be afraid of it.” Royal indignation crept into her voice, and the Seneschal dipped his head in apology.

The Queen turned, extended her wings, and both praetorians mimicked her action. “I still think-” Chrysalis was vaguely aware of her servants' inane vacuity before the sky wrapped her in its cool blue embrace, and he was forgotten.

Queen Chrysalis landed on part of an open walkway overlooking the courtyard. It looked like the bottom of a gazebo without a roof. Round, and open to allow pegasi to land here. Perhaps, at one point, it was for pegasus couriers. Today, it bore the grandest visitor it would ever receive. She thumped down on the cold marble, and at either side of her landed her most loyal warriors. A pony pegasus, standing back away from the greeting pair of changelings shouted something, and the many ponies below all saluted at once.

“Canterlot welcomes her majesty, Queen Chrysalis!” A changeling bowed and lifted a forehoof to invite her further onto the walkway. That was Generalmajor Jachs voice, but at that moment Queen Chrysalis did not care who he was; her eyes were locked squarely upon the legion of pony volunteers beneath her. No, they were just volunteers-- that pegasus was a soldier.

She pressed past him, all but shoving him into the other officer, an oberstleutnant by rank, beside him. She approached the pegasus with a sudden, eager trot. Her hoofsteps ‘clicking’ on the marble floor like a society mare. What a strange pony! Her eyes ate him up. He brought up a hoof to salute her, but she didn’t bother to acknowledge it.

He had a soft yellow coat and a dark brown mane. His eyes were a gentle and light blue He was tall, for a pony, and with big feathery wings. Typical pegasus in every aspect, except for his uniform. It was the dark grey of a heer soldier and it bore the rank of ‘kommandant.’ He was wearing her colours! That was her rank! Oh…he was hers. Queen Chrysalis found herself smiling like she’d just won a jackpot.

“Your majesty?” The words shook her from her reverie. Crashing back down from her momentary high, she shot a glance over her shoulder. The Generalmajor again, of course.

“Oh, Jachs, you must introduce me to this one!” Chrysalis found herself almost giddy as she spoke. “Look at him-- so spiffy in that uniform! Handsome too!” The changeling Queen sat on her haunches, and lifted a couple forehooves to, unbelievably, pinch the cheek of the pegasus soldier.

Jachs threw a glance over at Second Wind who looked like he was about to collapse in on himself. Military training let him stand at attention and stare forwards through the Queen, but Jachs was afraid that wasn’t going to last.

He cleared his throat. “Kommandant Second Wind was in charge of the volunteer--”

“Yes!” Chrysalis immediately jumped up, cutting Jachs off. “Oh, yes. Command them. Kommandant! Command them to do something! Make them march!” She lifted a hoof to her fangs as she hopped up on the bannister. In tension, she placed the very tip of her hoof between her fangs and held it there. Her eyes were as wide as the Celestial sun itself.

Shaking himself awake and clearing the faint blush from his cheeks, Second Wind stepped up to the bannister, right beside the Queen herself.

“Don’t be shy,” she whispered into his ear, a look in her eyes that quite honestly made him feel uncomfortable. Well, now he feels shy.

“Right…face!” Everypony, with changeling military precision, turned on their hooves and faced to the right. It was one of the simplest marching orders ever, but from the ear-piercing squeal of Queen Chrysalis, you would think they’d just done the impossible.

She practically leapt upwards, her forehooves clapping together in glee-- her eyes closed in pure happiness. “Again!” she yelled. Another face in perfect unison. “Again!” Back to the right this time. “Now move them!” Forward, the lines of pony volunteers marched, and Queen Chrysalis looked like she’d just imbibed six ponies worth of purified ‘elation at cutiemark acquisition.’

What had begun as a perfunctory military visit blossomed into a proper Canterlonian ‘Pamper The Queen’ day. After pulling her from Second Wind’s side, which Jachs noted she was very reluctant to leave, she was led on a tour of the city. Rubble and blast marks had long been cleaned, and the old Canterlonian spirit of propriety was still intact. The streets shined, the buildings were beautiful in the old Equestrian style, and if you ignored the changeling military police still stationed on the street corners it was almost like the war never happened at all.

A local restaurant hosted her, one of the middle class places. She’d insisted on trying ‘workpony meals’ and though she’d stressed her preference for Changeling cuisine, the Generalmajor convinced her majesty that perhaps ‘the peasanty hayburger’ had some merits as a quick and filling meal. As one of the changelings closest to her, Jachs knew very well she loved the food, but was trying to keep up appearances. She’d sent her compliments to the chef after that. There was no chef, only a very nervous line cook.

Then, it was on to entertainment. She’d visited a local theatre, and the pony players were encouraged to put on a private show. A rendition of 'Hearts In Hooves- The Seaside Mare'. An enjoyable evening, although Chrysalis complained the main character was a bit ridiculous. "Imagine a unicorn knowing no spells but basic telekinesis, and being able to lift a ship with that? Absurd. Nopony beyond a princess could ever do such a feat." Regardless, she stomped and cheered when the curtain finally fell, and immediately tried to pretend she wasn't.

Changelings and ponies, though it was still early after the war, were getting along with each other. The scars of war were slow to heal but they were undeniably healing.

As the sun fell over Canterlot, Chrysalis took Celestia’s place upon the grand balcony overlooking the castle. Far, far below her pony volunteers continued their march. An inspection by changeling officers, this time, as both the Generalmajor and Kommandant were at either of her sides.

“Oh, if only all ponies were like you, Second Wind.” Chrysalis sipped gingerly from a kinetically lifted cup of warm ‘draconian blue mountain’ coffee, an Equestrian brew. She yawned, casting her gaze at the line of marching pony guards below her. “Respectful, loyal, mature, smart. Handsome.” There was a notable pause between the second-to-last and final word. “Honestly.”

Jachs snuck a glance at the pegasus. He was getting used to the absurd amounts of praise Chrysalis was heaping on him. The flush he’d originally worn was now but an echo on his furred cheeks. “Thank you, my Queen.” His voice was calm and practised.

From the moment she’d spotted the stallion she only had eyes for him and barely gave Jachs the time of day. To be honest, for the changeling, it was a little vexing. He had stumbled over himself to quickly prepare for the visit and she’d thrown his preparation to the (second) wind and just followed the pegasus around all day.

Well, Jachs pondered silently as he turned his gaze back to the courtyard below. Perhaps it didn’t matter then. Perhaps all truly is well that ends well?

“Come, Second Wind. Sit by me.” She’d stopped referring to him with his rank and started using his full name, Jachs noticed. The Queen drew back one of the fancy Equestrian chairs in her magic and invited him in. Second Wind glanced at Jachs, who gave him a nod, before he followed Chrysalis’s order. “I notice you’re a bit nervous.” She added, dropping her forehooves to rest upon the table.

He swallowed. “I admit I am, my queen. It’s uhh-- not everyday one meets the reigning monarch of a continent.” He chuckled, trying and failing to get her to laugh along with him. A moment of awkward silence followed.

“Have you ever had your love harvested?” the insectoid queen asked in perhaps the most tactless and brutish manner the Generalmajor had ever heard the topic broached.

Jachs’ eyes fell upon Chrysalis with a gaze that was so intense it threatened to commit regicide by look alone. He silently prayed to Celestia. “Please,” he asked the solar princess in his head. “Do not let her do what I think she’s about to do.”

Her silence was his answer.

“I-- no.” Second Wind fidgeted nervously, his wings fluttering. “I have an exemption due to my service.”

She clapped her hooves together. “Yes! Right, that’s the Generalmajor’s policy, yes? Serve the Queendom in one way or another.” He nodded. “Well…” Chrysalis’s magic took hold of Second Wind's chair and scooted him up to her side. She towered over the pegasus, being about as tall as two of him put together. “You know it’s really not so bad…”

“Celestia,” said Jachs in his mind. “I beg of you.”

“It can be of course,” the queen idly posited, flipping her mane with a fore. “We can get hungry and simply take what we need forcefully, which is just unpleasant. Sometimes, if there’s enough ponies around, we can passively absorb it from the air. Osmosis, if you recall that lesson in pony school?” Chrysalis’s hoof fell upon Second Wind’s own. She leaned down, whispering heated breaths into his ear. “Or, with a willing partner, it can be rather…enjoyable, for both parties. Tender. Sensual.” Chrysalis bared her fangs, taking the very points, and bracing them against Second Wind’s ear in a little nip. He shivered. “Even intimate…”

“Celestia damnit.”

“Ahem!” Jachs brusquely cleared his throat. “Kommandant would you fetch the E.L.F. situation reports from my desk? I must discuss the threat to our majesty while we still have time.” Chrysalis shot him a glare that put his own regicidal gaze to shame. Hers was closer to genocidal.

Second Wind practically jumped out of his chair and performed a salute. “Right away sir, Generalmajor sir!” He turned and almost sprinted off the balcony. Jachs sure hoped he had the key to get to his office, otherwise he might have to track down Alcippe, and who knew how long that could take?

"Ugh!" Chrysalis growled, crossing her forehooves, baring her fangs and spitting a curse the Generalmajors way. “You should know me well enough by now not to get between a huntress and her prey.” She spat the words over her shoulder, grinding her teeth so hard Jachs wondered if the fangs were about to snap.

“From what I saw you were more like a predator.” Jachs responded dispassionately, then immediately second guessed himself.

Green flame lit from Chrysalis’s eye as she turned her full attention to Jachs. She stood, towering over the smaller male changeling, stepping square in front of him. “You would do well to remember to whom you speak, little grub.” She stood with her snout only inches from his, daring him to meet her gaze.

Jachs stood his ground, meeting the beast head on. Green flame flitted across her carapace in anger, casting emerald shadows about the pair in the waning evening light. Jachs didn’t know what gave him this confidence, exactly. For all he knew, everyling was supposed to be terrified of the queen, but in that moment he saw something in her. It wasn’t like the cold calculating cruelty of a monarch, it was more the short-sighted cruelty of a child. A filly who just had their toy taken away, taking out their anger on the other children.

In that moment, Jachs decided that if she truly was this pathetic monster, then they’d both be better off if she killed him right there. If she was this small minded she’d kill the leader of the most stable Equestrian province because of a personal slight? It would save him the trouble of trying to change things only to be stabbed in the back by a V.O.P.S. agent down the line. In that moment, he didn’t care if he lived or died. Either he’d get what he deserved for his work in the war, or he’d get a chance to fix it later.

In his mind, this was a win-win. He stared her down, unflinching. “It’s my job to protect the ponies here.” He finally added. “You draining my Kommandant into a husk would drive them to a revolt.”

Chrysalis kept up her little show as green flames ensorcelled her body. Her snout twitched, and she huffed dramatically. “I would have left him alive.” At once, the flames dissipated, and she plopped back down in her chair, resting her chin on a forehoof. She almost looked bored, flitting as she did between white hot anger and royal apathy.

Seemed like it was going to be option two. “I believe you would have tried to.” Jachs took Second Wind’s old seat next to her, crossing his fores and sitting up straight.

“Hmm.” Chrysalis mused. “Tell me something, Generalmajor. I see pegasi down there. Unicorns, earth ponies. All of those have volunteered. Why are there no thestrals?”

Jachs was caught off guard momentarily. “Well--”

“I want thestral ponies in my army.”

“My queen,” Jachs began, in as diplomatic a tone as he could muster. “Bat ponies were solely loyal to Princess Luna. If we forced them to cooperate, there’s a chance they could--”

“I do not care.” Chrysalis had taken up her teaglass in her magic again. “You have already gotten under my chitin once today, Jachs. You will give me this. Consider it your apology.” She downed what was left in her glass, turned, and trotted back into the throne room, letting her tail smack him in the face as she went.

Jachs massaged his hooves against his temples. “Celestia, damnit.”

Author's Note

"I told you I'd be back."

As always, comments, likes, anything that triggers my dopamine and convinces me to keep writing.

The Love Harvest

“Let’s talk about the reason for the changeling invasion- the love harvest.” The cream coloured unicorn leaned in as she spoke. “Everypony knows your species needs love to survive- but we didn’t know there was such a deficit before the invasion. If you’d asked us we probably would have-”

Jachs cut her off, shaking his head in the negative. “I know.” He met her eyes with a sad smile.

The unicorn nodded respectfully. “What was it like for you? I know in Vanhoover we were terrified of what was about to happen. We were all talking about how…this was it, that you were going to just start harvesting us. Leaving us…husks. Then, when the trucks rolled up it was basically just a dentist appointment. Annoying but not fatal- just something you had to do.”

Jachs disarmingly shrugged, quietly amused at her description. “It very nearly was…that was a bad time for us. Me and Alcippe- I mean.” He leaned back in his own lounger, stretching his hooves out- his legs hanging over the side. “The ‘suggestions’ that passed over my desk were barbaric. Monstrous. Disgusting. It was…like putting the ponies in a slaughterhouse. Turning them to- to cattle.” He shook back and forth, trying to banish the memories from his head. “When one of those maggots sat down at my desk and earnestly proposed…that, I thought I should have had him shot.”

The unicorn reached a hoof over, resting it atop Jachs’s own. She returned his careful smile. “We don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want to.” Her voice took on a protective tone. Such anathema to the changelings, Jachs thought.

“It’s fine. I only glanced through the proposals, I never had to deal with the ‘lings considering putting them into action, Marsilio though…”

“Another of the Canterlot Five,” the cream unicorn spoke aloud as she scribbled down on her clipboard. “The Surgeon General.”

Jachs continued.”In our language we called it 'The Liebessammeldienst'. He’s the one that came up with the Seaddle Protocol. He put it into action- got the ponies happy to comply, and pretty much single-hoofedly set us on the path to Reconstruction. I don’t know where we’d be right now without him.” Jachs spoke eagerly of his friend, a tone of sheer pride in his voice.

The changeling sighed and grinned. “I wish I’d been there to see the looks on those lunatic-lings faces when his plan worked…but I did hear about it.”

-From “Memoirs Of A Changed Changeling” by Herr Jachs, Canterlot press, Equestrian Protectorate, 1,045.

Marsilio’s chitin black hooves rested upon the truck's dashboard as it rolled into a small but populous Equestrian town at the break of day. “We’re here, general oberstabsarzt.” The driver spoke as he pulled up into the town square. A few ponies noticing their arrival had begun to run from home-to-home. Passing a warning along, Marsilio guessed. Most were running into their own homes. Marsillio opened his door and slid down onto the cobblestone streets of the town. Equestrian villages weren’t built for automobiles- the streets were rough and uneven. This place must not have been near the war. It still looks like the old, happy little villages he read about in the history books as a child.

“Get them all out here. Line them up,” ordered Marsilio. He could feel the terror of the ponies around him, that small hoof full that knew they were seen and couldn’t run away to hide. They shrunk away when he looked over them.

As the driver nodded and turned to order his own men, Marsilio began the arduous task of unloading the equipment. The few other doctors here, guarded by the soldiers of the heer, unpacked a few ‘devices’, which were all they could be called. Essentially, they were large reclining chairs on wheels with a pointed, sharp apparatus affixed to the front. The ponies would be bound into them and their love-- as ordered by Vesalipolis, would be forcibly extracted until they were wrung dry, like a wet towel. Marsilio smiled. At least-- that’s what the original plan was.

He pulled in every favor he had to get it changed. The ‘Seaddle Protocol,’ as it was named, was a sustainable method of love harvesting. Targeting big population centers, one-half of the residents every month would be half drained of their love, and the other residents would care for them. It would repeat, cycling every month. Field tests and trials meant the best subjects were between 20-ish, and 60 years of age. Younger or older, and the subjects would be hurt in the process. He would not have them hurt-- any form of distress on the pastel creatures would not do. This had to be sustainable for the hives. This had to work-- and the more painless and the more of a non-issue he could make the harvest, they’d be even more willing to comply. After all, they’ll see the benefits of a changeling occupation far outweigh the cost of being tired a couple days every two months, he was sure.

He just hoped the ponies saw it that way.

“Not my son!” A shrill cry sounded from the back of the crowd. Marsilio glanced over, his white lab coat fluttering with the rapid beating of his insectoid wings. He could hear the sounds of a struggle-- punches, hitting, hoofbeats. Instinct drew him into the air until he spied the provocation. “Infanterie halt!” He called aloud to the changeling regulars around the terrified mare and her son-- a colt about the correct age by the looks of him, but frail and sickly. He shook his head in the negative- that one wouldn’t do.

“Please not my son!” She repeated, a mare deep-blue in colouration with bright blue eyes. “Please, he can’t take it. Take me- please.” She looked into the doctor’s eyes with a pleading expression. Marsilio’s snout wrinkled-- by the queen, he hated this. These poor ponies-- reduced to groveling like animals.

“Shutup!” A loud thump echoed around the quiet town hall as the butt of a rifle slammed hard into the mare’s stomach, causing her to double over in agony. “Herr Doktor, the-” Marsilio’s eyes flared in righteous anger- but he bit his tongue.

“That one’s too weak to give any love of a decent quality, take the mother.” He dropped to the ground as his wings stopped fluttering, and turned as a soft ‘thank you’ escaped the mare’s lips. The soldier confirmed his order in the old language.

Marsilio lied, of course. The quality of love extracted was not at all relevant to the health of the subject. Though, to the infirm the Extraction process could be painful-- and if carried on for too long, outright fatal. This was something he knew the soldiers of the heer did not care about. Short-sighted fools, seeking short term gain over long term prosperity.

For the moment it did not matter. The Seaddle Protocol was a stroke of genius and they would all see it in time.

In short order the first group was led before the machines. Several ponies, male and female- notably with the mother of the colt from earlier. They all huddled close together, tense and nervous. All of them except the mother. Marsilio noted, she seemed to be strangely calm.

“You first.” A soldier ordered, pressing the barrel of his machine gun into the back of the mare. She gulped, but complied. Marsilio sneered. Despite his distaste, he had no power to command the heer. No matter how many times he told them the subjects were more compliant when treated with a gentle hoof, it seemed some were more concerned with punishing the ponies than actual progress.

The mother nervously climbed into the apparatus, and Marsilio stepped forward. He hovered above her, his own hooves strapping her down- binding her to the machine. “This won’t hurt a bit,” he tried to assure her, but in her eyes he saw she did not believe him. He was met with a look of steely determination. The look of a mare who knows they are about to die to protect their child.

Marsilio softened in apology. It would be so much easier if they believed him…but showing them will have to do.

His black hoof fell upon the activation lever, and he threw it.

The machine whirred to life, the apparatus spun around and around- a metal thing that looked remarkably like a griffon’s claw, digits extended to grasp around the head of the mare in its grip. It did no such thing.

Instead, a purple-pinkish hued essence, an aura, began to flow from the chest of the mare. “Ah!” she cried, perhaps expecting there to be pain-- but instead she was just confused. She exhaled, and glanced over at Marsilio for reassurance. The good doktor gave her an ‘I told you so’ shrug. The entire process lasted for only forty seconds, before the machine whirred down and withdrew. “There you are- all done.” Marsilio announced as much to the crowd as to her and set about undoing her restraints.

In disbelief, she climbed from the machine. Unsteady enough that Marsilio let her brace against his side. “Is…is that it?” She spoke incredulously.

“That’s it!” The changeling responded, again to the crowd as much as her. “How are you feeling?”

“...like I need a nap. That’s really it?”

Marsilio laughed. “Then go home and rest-- doctor’s orders.” He gestured for one of the soldiers to take her from him. She climbed from his grip and onto the cobblestone streets once more. She shared a couple smiles with a few townsfolk-- no doubt friends of hers.

“We’ll be taking half of you today!” He called aloud to the crowd. “The other half next month and repeating after!” He gestured for the next pony, a young blue stallion, to climb into the machine next.

About halfway through the Extraction, Marsilio took a break. He climbed up on the hood of one of the military trucks to watch the crowd. For the first time in two years the surgeon general lit up a cigarette to calm his nerves.

The reaction was promising at least. The townsfolk were in good spirits, sharing hugs and smiles- even some laughter. For a trial run, the general oberstabsarzt supposed this didn’t go too badly at all. He did note too, with some self-satisfaction, that after the ponies learned it was truly harmless they were much less nervous about climbing in the machines. Perhaps even the soldiers of the heer learned something today, though he doubted it.

Still, promising indeed. A tax paid not in bits but in Love- just as annoying as regular taxes, but just as safe too.

Marsilio chanced a glance to the side. The mare from earlier-- now with dark circles under her eyes, had thrown her son over her back and was taking him home. The changeling scientist inhaled a fresh breath of acrid cigarette smoke and let himself smile. Once this all got finalized perhaps they could look into incentives for ponies who wanted to, to give more Love. A payment in bits for another donation, perhaps…

Promising indeed.

Author's Note

Disclaimer: not my characters, not my story

The Sympathizer

“My sources tell me- back in the early days of the occupation you got recalled to Vesalipolis.” The cream unicorn made an ‘X’ motion across her clipboard with her magic. “What was that about, if you can say?”

“You are well informed, Miss Butter Scotch. I was way behind on my beating quota.” Jachs sneered, rolling his eyes. “Chrysalis-- the Empress,” he corrected himself, “got the idea that because I wasn’t stomping my boot into the neck of every pony in Canterlot I might be some kind of sympathizer.” At that, he bit his lower lip in thought. “Well, I was. I am still. But it hurt my feelings.” He flashed a confident smile at the interviewer, leaning back to kick his hind legs over the armrest of his lounger. “It was an eventful journey there and back-- and a very memorable meeting. First time I’d ever climbed the Queen’s tower itself and the first time I ever saw her throne.”

“It is my job to be informed, Herr Jachs. I’m sure you can sympathize.” At that Jachs raised his, now empty, glass of whisky. Butter Scotch continued: “If it’s not too much trouble-- can I ask for the story?” the unicorn spoke tactfully and professionally. She knew exactly what Jachs was doing.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He grinned, his eagerness to tell it displayed on his muzzle.

-From “Memoirs Of A Changed Changeling” by Herr Jachs, Canterlot press, Equestrian Protectorate, 1,045.

“RESIST”

Generalmajor Jachs crinkled his snout as he stepped from his armored transport train and into the Vanhoover station. Along the station’s back wall, right above the ticket booth, were several graffiti slogans all calling for the violent overthrow of the Changeling Queendom. He glanced across the platform. Ponies and changelings alike sat at respectable differences from one another, their eyes downcast. The ponies here didn’t want to meet his gaze.

“Generalmajor!” Jachs turned to greet the governor of the Vanhoover commissariot with a perfunctory salute- shared between the pair. “It’s an honor sir,” he continued. Jachs returned his salute, before he noticed the pair of assault-rifle wielding bodyguards flanking the sides of the governor. Heavy in black-armour, and with stern gazes. “The siege of Canterlot is the stuff of legends. I only wish I’d been there to see you in action.” The governor opined reverently.

“At ease, Governor Carapace. You needn’t butter me up- this isn’t a performance review.” Jachs gave him a subdued shrug. “Just a stop for fuel and rest on the way to the capital.”

“Oh not at all sir!” The governor chuckled half-heartedly. “I’m just glad to meet a hero of mine- before I escort you to your accommodation for the night, can I pick your brain a little?”

“Well I’m technically on duty for another hour. What have you got?” Jachs fell into step beside the governor, and the guards in turn fell into step behind him. He was led beyond the station and into the heart of Vanhoover proper.

The Generalmajor took in the sights and sounds of Vanhoover as they walked. This was the first city to fall in the war and it took the worst beating. Shiny new bombs fresh out of the factory fell on these streets to mark the start of the war. It still bore the scars. Tank tread-marks along Equestrian cobble roads, broken walls, spent shell casings. It unnerved him. Why hadn’t they tried to rebuild yet? Canterlot was hit hard too but-- admittedly, not this badly, and they certainly had more help.

Entire sections of the city were cordoned off-- filled with gas residue, crumbling buildings and infrastructure which made it impassable. All those who remained, pony and changeling, were on the south half of the city. By the time the changeling tanks stood in the Vanhoover town square, they surrendered, so the South was relatively untouched. Even so…

Jachs sighed through his nostrils. It was as if he could still smell the war in these cursed, soot-blackened streets. What a miserable place. He could not wait to leave it.

Perhaps sensing his demeanor change, Carapace piped up. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed we’ve been having problems with the resistance here recently.” Jachs glanced behind him at the guards. The stern, black gas-masked faces scanned alleyways and windows with their hooves on their weapons.

“Explains the heavy security--” Jachs returned. “We’ve had some issues at Canterlot as well but mostly small isolated skirmishes. I take it your enemies here have organized?”

“We believe so.” Carapace gestured to a nearby wall. The same slogans written on the station were here too.

“Resist, ELF will save us, Lulamoon Legion?” Jachs read it aloud as he forced himself to focus on the tiny- scratchy written letters. “Pretty poor penmanship too. I wouldn’t put too much stock in graffiti, governor. Ponies say alot of things but it only really means anything when they put action behind their words.”

The governor threw his hoof over his shoulder, pointing out a few more of the same slogans written across the streets. “We see these same phrases, is what worries me. E.L.F. too.”

“I’m sure-” Jachs was interrupted by a shout from the alley over.

“Get them! Get the little bastards!” He was already running before the Governor was able to stop him. Rounding the corner he saw six young ponies, colts and fillies by the look of them, pinned to the ground by changeling kommandos in black body armour and gas masks.

Never in his life would Jachs have thought he’d see proud soldiers of the heer pointing assault rifles at unarmed children.

“There’s some of our little revolutionaries now!” Carapace rounded the corner after Jachs, his guards on his hooves. “The resistance likes to use these children and urchins as spies. Probably carrying orders from one cell to another.” Carapace shrugged. “I…find it distasteful, but what else are we to do? Let them carry messages unhindered?”

“...be that as it may, Governor.” Jachs spit the word, a hint of venom creeping into his voice, before he sighed and forced himself to calm down. “These are just children. Brainwashed by the resistance or not. We must be lenient- we must, or else we will become the monsters the resistance paints us as.”

“I admit- it does seem a little overkill for a few dissident children.” The governor shook his head, seeming not to notice Jachs’ shift in tone. “But my hooves are tied. If I let them run rampant I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“There must be a better way to do this than turning the proud soldiers of the Heer into brutes who point machine guns at children.” He spoke loud enough that a couple of the soldiers turned their attention to him, their grips on their weapons momentarily lowering. Jachs tapped his hoof into the cobbles below him in thought. “Just have them escorted home for now. Have your soldiers bring these colts and fillies back to their parents, tell them what they were doing, and I assure you most parents would never let their children outside again-- much less give them the freedom to run messages.”

“Ahh…” Carapace lifted a hoof to his chin in thought. “Speak calmly and carry a big stick, Generalmajor? I guess it’s worth a shot at least. Certainly cheaper than imprisoning them.”

“Sparks less resentment too.” Jachs noted, gesturing with his head to the forming crowd of ponies on the street. “The best way to fight the resistance, Governor, is to give them a better life now than the one they are fighting to return to.”

Carapace nodded. “Very well- gentlemen, lower your weapons. We’ll do as the Generalmajor suggests for now. A trial run.” The Governor bowed his head in respect.

The black-armoured shocklings complied reluctantly, lowering their weapons but standing close enough to the prone children that should any try to run they’d be easily tackled. None of them tried to run.

“Well, that’s settled then.” Carapace turned back to Jachs. “As I was saying,”

Jachs; however, interrupted him. “Actually Governor if it’s all the same to you I think I’d prefer to call it a night for now. Vanhoover has a way of draining one’s energy.”

Vesalipolis. Capital of the Changeling Queendom, center of the soon to be empire, administrative hub for thousands upon thousands of bureaucrats and clerks whose sole purpose was to keep the Queendom running.

Jachs’ train had to pass by multiple lines of militarized pillboxes, fortresses, and panzer patrols. The city itself was hardly visible, obscured behind a thick blanket of black factory smoke. The smokestacks of changeling machine shops producing guns and tanks around the clock belched fire upwards like industrial dragons. Steel, flame, gunsmoke. Every building worked as a single organism producing death in a symphony of metal. This was the full might of a nation on display. Citizens here lived with the guns of the heer like their neighbors.

The railway led straight to the Queen’s tower, itself flanked by two colossal pieces of railway artillery. As Generalmajor Jachs stepped onto the Vesalipolis tower station, the scent of industrialization hit him. It smelled remarkably like fire.

He’d heard of the Queen’s tower before, every changeling had. They’d all seen pictures in the newspaper. “A grand construction,” they called it. It certainly lived up to his expectations.

An edifice of black, a monument to the military prowess of the Queendom and the greatness of its ruler, grasped towards the sky as if the heavens themselves didn’t fall outside the Queen’s rule. As Generalmajor Jachs stared upwards he was struck with a sense of wonder.

This tower, this place, is a nexus of the hives and very well could be of the entire world. It was like stepping onto hallowed ground. He felt like he needed a blessing or else he’d spontaneously erupt in green flame.

Well, the summons in his saddlebag would have to do.

“You are on time, sir. The Queen will see you now.” A young changeling girl bowed her head low and gestured toward the throne room’s grand doors. They were done up in changeling black, shining with dark green glowing inlays that formed a relief of Chrysalis’s side profile. At either side were two of the most resplendently adorned, garishly armoured and serious-looking Queen’s guard Jachs had ever seen. They opened the door for him, and Jachs took his cue.

Green flames met his eyes. Behind Chrysalis’ throne was a wall of flaming, magical green. It gave the room an eerie glow. At either side of the room were lines of columns, each one reflected the polished obsidian floor. Although Jachs would never admit this even if tortured, it reminded him a little bit of Canterlot’s throne room, albeit more sinister and much less white.

At either side of the throne were posted two more guards, but these were the only changelings he saw. At his quizzical expression, one of the guards pointed his rifle sideways to the open balcony door. Jachs nodded his thanks and stepped outside.

The true queen of Equestria, monarch of the Changeling Queendom, sat at a small table covered with a white tablecloth. Upon that table sat a white- a very bright white decanter of tea, that Jachs swore he had seen somewhere before. “Queen Chrysalis.” Jachs announced his presence with a salute.

“Oh there you are-- punctual, Generalmajor.” Chrysalis lifted a teacup to her lips and sipped softly from it. “Have a seat.” One does not refuse an invitation from the changeling queen. Jachs took his position at the other side of the table.

“I like the quiet of the outside, Herr Jachs. If you listen closely you can hear the factory's rumble.” Jachs strained his ears as she talked-- he could just about make it out, the distant, heavy metallic rumbling of massive metal presses working in tandem. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? All those changelings, all those citizens-- working together for the common good. Working together for me.” She took a long, drawn out sip of her tea. “So would you like to tell me why you have not been?”

Jachs suddenly began to scramble-- the shock must have been visible on his face as he tried to speak. “I- I don’t know what you-”

She interjected. “It has come to my attention that the ponies under your rule are enjoying so many privileges that they do not have in other occupied areas. Your leniency, no doubt, is emboldening the resistance.” Queen Chrysalis shot him a glare from across the table.

“My goal-- as always, has been to maintain a stable Equestria under your rule. You know-- um, the old saying. You catch more flies with honey?” As Jachs spoke he wavered a bit, swallowing nervously.

“You’re not in trouble, Herr Jachs. I’m only cautioning you-- be more mindful. The example you set in Canterlot will be expected in every other province. Dissidents must be met with a firm hoof- lest, as you seem to be fond of old sayings. You give them an inch, the ponies will take a mile. Do you understand?” Chrysalis spoke with a reserved and calm tone, but the implication was deadly clear. Jachs nodded.

“At any rate--” Chrysalis continued, “we’re not here to discuss your…sympathies, misguided as they are.” The Queen rolled her eyes. “Changelings have been nipping at my hooves to be appointed governor of the Canterlot Commissariot. I’ve had so many letters, the odd impassioned plea, bribery, but I’ve heard nothing from you. I expect-- because you’ve been too busy working to worry about politics?”

“Well…yes,” Jachs returned with a subdued nod. “I suppose I never really gave it much thought. I’ve been so preoccupied with keeping it stable I’ve never--”

“And that is why I’m appointing you Governor.” The Queen interjected. “Here-” Her magic lifted the decanter, underneath it was a paper bearing the royal Vesalipolis seal. A bright blue royal insignia. It hung in the air and Jachs merely watched. “The papers are already here-- all ready, all you have to do is sign and initial.”

“I- I don’t know what to say.” His own magic took hold of the paper, and he unfurled it. There it was, his name on a piece of paper bearing the Queen’s signature. He felt his heart thump in his chest.

“As I said, I’m not here to punish you. Your methods have worked, as silly as they are. Canterlot under your rule is far more stable than any of the other provinces. If I put someone else above you it may well descend into open rebellion.” Her magical grip on her teacup faltered as she let it sit back down upon the tablecloth. “All I ask is that you keep in mind what I said. Don’t give them an inch, Governor Jachs.”

“I will,” the smaller changeling assented, withdrawing a pen from his uniform pocket with his magic, and noting down his name on the document.

“I expect to hear great things from you. Now,” Chrysalis drew up that little white decanter in her magical grip. “Are you a cinnamon or a jasmine man?”

Author's Note

Disclaimer: not my characters, not my story

The Pony Volunteers

“Let’s see…and this was when you implemented the volunteer program?” Butter Scotch tapped her pen against her clipboard. She had fetched a meal for the pair as well. They spoke respectfully over a breakfast of pony-grown greens and vegetables.

“Yes,” was Jachs’ simple reply, as he licked his lips clean. “It was simple enough to vet prospects. Of course, E.L.F. infiltrators were a concern, but generally most volunteers were fairly loyal. When they saw they got more rations and an exemption from the love tax, we’d secured the simple and selfish ponies. When they saw they could choose how to treat the ponies under them-- and they could be much more lenient than the ‘jackbooted changeling oppressors’ we secured the bleeding hearts and the ponies who only wanted to do right by their people. Then, the pony volunteers set an example for the rest of the Heer and everyone benefitted.”

Jachs took a self-indulgent swig of his freshly filled glass of whisky. Butter Scotch raised an eye ridge-- but he waved her off. It was five o’ clock somewhere in the world. “You make it sound pragmatic,” the pony questioned. “But it wasn’t really JUST a pragmatic decision, was it?”

“No.” Was Jachs’ equally simple reply. “With my recent appointment to the position of governor, I needed a win to cement my promotion. If I faltered-- Chrysalis would have second thoughts, and…I’m not sure my replacement would share my opinion on sensible policy making.” He shrugged. “I suppose there was a selfish aspect to it.”

“And,” the pony continued, “you got a bunch of jobs for jobless, starving ponies in a war torn hell hole.”

Jachs rolled his eyes. “You make me sound like I’m some sort of saint.” Despite himself, there was a bit of a flush to his cheeks. “It wasn’t that bad-- most of the civilian infrastructure in Canterlot was intact, and what wasn’t I’d ordered rebuilt quickly. Only a couple months after the war ended and Canterlot, minus the changeling trident flags, looked just as pristine as ever.”

“What about Second Wind?” Butter Scotch interjected. “Did you meet him around this time?”

“Oh- yes, I did. Good soldier, loyal, one of my most trusted command- ahem, kommandants.” His chitin hoof slipped upwards to rest quizzically against Jachs’ chin. “I met him-- well, do you have the time?”

Butter Scotch only smiled and took her pen in a magical grip.

-From “Memoirs Of A Changed Changeling” by Herr Jachs, Canterlot press, Equestrian Protectorate, 1,045.

Second Wind overlooked a legion of pony volunteers, marching up and down the canterlot gardens. As an ex-royal guard, he had the most experience of any pony here with marching in formation. “In step- fillies, you aren’t can-can girls are you!? In step! Left- right, left-right, left-right!” His voice boomed across the garden as he gave his orders from the balcony overlook. Quietly, he shook his head.

The new canterlot royal guard was a mockery of the old. Where they’d once worn the proud alicorn crest, now a changeling trident graced the ponies’ armour. Where once they were adorned in proud gold, now they were dressed in blackened shock-style armour that mimicked the elites of the Heer.

Second Wind found it distasteful, of course, but then again…as a pony in the royal guard, he never had much chance of excelling. He was born poor, raised poor, and kept squarely on the outside of the old royal guard. Only those of noble bloodline could ascend the old ranks, but now, well. Now his skills and experience were finally being properly recognized.

He himself didn’t wear a Guardsman’s uniform. He had on the gray of the Heer. An officer’s uniform-- though, he thought it didn’t quite mesh well with his bright yellow fur, it did cut a striking figure. He sucked in his gut and flexed his wings as he lifted a hoof, trailing it down the gray fabric. Even if it was the enemies’ it still felt nice to wear a uniform again-- and be proud of it.

He cocked a sly smile as they moved to a right column and made no mistakes. It was a start.

“Kommandant,”

Second wind was shaken from his internal monologue by a feminine voice. Turning on his hooves he brought his right up in a salute. “Oberstleutnant Alcippe.”

Her bright purple eyes were always a welcome sight. In her magical grip she held aloft a clipboard, and in that little clipboard were held the fates of his and all his soldiers' lives. Yet, she carried that responsibility with such respect Second Wind could not have imagined a changeling doing just a scant few weeks ago. She was an attentive yet casual superior officer. She allowed him to lead as he saw fit without micromanaging-- but she gave him guidance and kept him apprised of the expectations the Queen would have.

To Second Wind, this professionalism was a welcome change of pace compared to the hands-off ‘leadership’ style of the old guard, if one could call it that. Since his joining, she'd well-earned his respect.

She waved her own hoof in an ‘at ease’ gesture. “I see you’ve wasted no time. You’ve made excellent progress with the new recruits.”

“Indeed. Though I’m afraid you’d have an easier time teaching stray cats to march in formation.” Second Wind returned to his resting stance overlooking the plaza.

Alcippe chuckled. “Regardless-- Governor Jachs has asked to see you in his office when you get a moment.”

Second Wind nodded his assent. “Only good things, I hope, Oberstleutnant.” Second Wind replied professionally, his gaze fixed firmly on the formation below him.

“Only good things.” She repeated. “On a personal note-- I must say, I am impressed. Personally, that is,” she reiterated. “Professionally I believe I’m not quite allowed to have an opinion yet, so-- mmmh, do keep this just between us.” She shrugged disarmingly, telekinetically tapping her pen into her horn as she glanced out over the recruits. Second Wind saw her check a few things from her clipboard.

“The Heer and its never ending regulations.” Second Wind yawned exaggeratedly. “I don’t know how you do it. I’d go insane with all that paperwork.”

“Coffee, alcohol, and migraine medication in equal measure.” Her voice was even-- in that enjoyable ‘trilling’ way changelings speak when they’re pretending to be serious. The pegasus found himself smiling.

Then, he felt a pit in his stomach. Guilt? Perhaps if they’d met before the war they could have been friends. He’d have liked that.

Banishing the thought with a silent shake of his head, he quickly returned “Tell the Generalmajor I’ll be up just as soon as these layabouts learn to column-right without slamming into a wall. I’m sure it won’t take long.” He winked. “And if it does, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Jachs glanced across the orders on his desk. All usual stuff- logistics requests, complaints about not being harsh enough, the officers whining that the soldiers are whining. Military equivalents of junk mail-- except, he arched an eyeridge, taking hold of an order bearing the Vesalipolis seal. Not unlike the one he’d just placed at the opposite end of his desk. He did a double-take to make sure he hadn’t accidentally swapped its place before cracking open the seal.

It was a reinforcement request for the Queen’s guard-- but oddly, they only wanted reinforcements for the Canterlot mines. That was strange indeed-- stranger still, why this missive contained no reason for the requested reinforcements. A misprint? Well, he’s not signing his name to something without knowing the reasoning. If the guard really needed reinforcements they could damn well ask him personally. He balled the missive up with his magic and tossed it casually into the waste bin at the foot of his desk.

Before he could contemplate it further, a knock at his door interrupted him. “Come in!” He called, and none other than that promising new kommandant himself opened the door.

He was about to say something but Jachs interrupted him excitedly “Ah-- just the pony I wanted to see! Sit down, sit down.” Jachs fished around on his desk for the letter- the one with the Capital’s seal upon it.

“Uh, It’s good to see you too, sir.” Second Wind chuckled, tugging at his collar with a hoof. “Can’t remember the last time-” But he was interrupted by a small envelope, bearing the bright blue royal Vesalipolis seal being levitated in front of his face. He went cross-eyed trying to focus on it.

Jachs’ chitin black hooves formed a triangle as he spoke. He tried to maintain a semblance of professionalism but even Second Wind could tell he was genuinely giddy. “The queen has approved, personally, your entry into the officer corps-- and the formation of the volunteer regiments. You are no longer just an auxiliary, kommandant.” Jachs grinned, "Welcome to the Heer.”

Second Wind snatched the envelope out of the air and almost tore into it. “I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.” He scanned the paper- and then reread it, and then read it again. “Look at that. A few weeks with you and I’ve already managed to outrank my old position in the guard.”

At that Jachs couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well-- your name is Second Wind, after all. Auspicious, isn’t it?”

The pony shrugged. “Nominative determinism? I don’t believe in fate, but it is funny how our names work out sometimes” Second Wind rolled his eyes. “You think you could find me a couple ponies with names like ‘Marching Order’ or ‘About Face?’”

The pair shared a laugh, and even a couple smiles. For a moment, Jachs was reminded of his time back in the jaegers, joking and camaraderie around the fire late into the Equestrian winter.

“And now the bad news,” Jachs spoke up with a quick shake of his head- not quite letting himself dip into melancholy. “Chrysalis wants to…ahem, tour Canterlot again, and inspect the volunteer regiments personally.”

“Uggh,” Second Wind let his head thump down onto his forehooves exaggeratedly. There was enough force behind it that It shook Jachs’ desk. “Why can’t anything ever just be good news?”

“She’s actually not so bad when she’s not mad at you. I imagine she’ll want to talk to you personally. So, easy solution- just don’t make her mad at you.” Jachs cracked a half smile.

Second wind raised his head from the desk and let it rest on one hoof as he closed his eyes in thought. “Just once, only good news.” He repeated, throwing his head back, breathless and evidently beyond all help.

“We take the bad with the good in the Heer, Kommandant.” Jachs was quick to correct him. “The bad? The Queen wants to make sure you’re up to snuff. The good? If you are, this could begin a cascade effect. Once she sees the ponies eagerly supporting her, you know, then there’d be even less reason to keep a firm hoof on them.”

“I…see your point.” Second Wind was quick to nod in assent. “Show her that we’re loyal and maybe earn a few more rights back in thanks?”

That stung. ”I wish it was something more concrete and- less…degrading,” Jachs let a bit of his guilt slip into his tone as he spoke. “But the truth of the matter is she’s a vain woman-- and simply, when she sees ponies loyal to her she’s more likely to see them as actual citizens instead of just as the enemy.”

“Or a resource to be harvested.” Second wind was quick to add. “Still, thank you, Generalmajor. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Jachs bore a frown and began to grind his teeth. “I wish-” he started, and then cut himself off. “I…if there was something more I could do.” The rest of his declaration went unsaid, but Second Wind understood completely.

The pegasus was quiet for a moment, twiddling the paper between his hooves. The silence sat for nearly a full minute. “Can I ask you something, sir?” He spoke up suddenly.

“Of course,” The changeling leaned in, propping his fores against his desk. “Anything, Herr Kommandant. I keep an open door policy.”

Second Wind softly smiled at the proper addressing of his rank but his voice- and mood, were low. “Is…is it always going to be like this? Is there anything we can do to change things?” Second Wind’s voice wavered and Jachs narrowed his eyes.

The generalmajor did not have a response prepared. Royal etiquette training with Alcippe kicked in on instinct, and he deflected. “We do what we can.” A non-answer, with no meaning beyond empty platitudes. Jachs furrowed his brow at himself. “That’s-- let me rephrase,” he quickly cut himself off, banishing that line of propagandist corporate-speak.

Clearing his throat, he continued. “One day things will change, Kommandant. I don’t know when-- but old loyalties will die out, and eventually this won’t be the nation of changelings. It’ll be the Equestrian-Changeling Queendom. A hundred years from now- two hundred, that’s a certainty.”

“In the short-term though?” Second Wind piped up, an uncertain grimace on his face as if he was dreading the answer.

“That, I don’t know.” Jachs sighed solemnly. “Look-- you’re in the Canterlot palace. You-- a pony. That alone is a miracle compared to where we were a month ago.” The changelings' hoof tapped impertinently into his desk. “We’re progressing, is what I mean. It’s slow and gradual but it’s progress.”

Second Wind nodded in understanding. “So- we just grin and bear it for now?”

“And do what you can,” Jachs corrected. “The volunteers will have as much authority as any other soldier of the Heer.” The changeling shot Second Wind a sly little wink. “And as much agency in deciding how to go about their job.”

Second Wind had to smile. “You’re…telling me to…?”

Jachs lifted a hoof to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion. “I’m telling you…that I don’t always read incident reports very closely-- and if for instance, you didn’t really gang up on and beat down a bunch of teenagers spraypainting resistance slogans, but noted it down in your report-- that I, being the very busy changeling I am, would trust you and sign off on it without reading it. Even if in fact you simply gave them a stern talking to. You see?”

The pegasus shook his head in a grin. “How the hell did you get this job?” He exasperatedly asked, suppressing a chuckle.

“I do my job very well, I'll have you know.” Jachs shot a mock-glare into his kommandant’s eyes. “My job, despite all evidence to the contrary, is to keep Canterlot stable and my citizens safe. Ponies will be much less inclined to rebellion if they’re safe, fed, housed, and working.”

“Can’t argue that.” Second Wind leaned back in his chair, forehooves crossed over one another in thought. “You know Generalmajor, you’re not quite what I expected in a changeling occupier.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Kommandant.” Jachs smiled and shook his head. “For now though I need to get back to work. Alcippe will let you know the details of the Queen’s visit later.”

Second Wind gave a respectful nod and turned to leave. As he stepped from Jachs’ tiny office and into the empty throne room itself he caught himself feeling pride. It felt good to set an example. Maybe a better future really was possible.

Maybe in the end, it won’t be such a bad thing the changelings won.

Finishing his work for the day, Generalmajor Jachs glanced at the clock on the wall. One in the morning. His forehoof traveled up to rest on his temple, and he massaged it with a long and drawn out sigh. Fatigue ate at him, but he wasn’t about to spend another night sleeping on his desk.

From his little office adjacent to the throne room, Jachs stepped out into the dark. They’d forgotten to light the braziers before leaving, it seems. The only light coming in was moonlight cutting through stained glass windows, reliefs of the old princesses and the Element Bearers.

It was quiet at night now. They had to ban anyone but officers from the throne room proper after Equestrian artifacts kept coming up ‘missing’ at the end of Heer guard rotations. Jachs was struck by the sheer silence of it.

He tapped his hoof against the marble flooring and let the echo sound around the room, he glanced up to the throne at the end of the room. In truth, it was more like a pedestal. Three great golden rings, upon which Celestia’s advisors once sat, rising upwards and shortening in circumference about a meter with each ring. At the very top ring center was the throne itself. Like the topping to a royal golden layer cake. A red carpet ran from it to the entrance door.

Jachs had never really looked at the throne before. It always seemed taboo to him to do more than a passing glance, for some reason. As if the empty chair was judging him.

The Generalmajor didn’t know what exactly he was doing- or why he was doing it, but he found himself approaching the empty throne. There, lit by the moon and painted in translucent reds of stained glass mosaics sat the inheritor of Canterlot. Jachs felt the strange urge to bow. To nothing.

The throne was empty-- he told himself, shaking his head. This was silly. Why was he here?

But that wasn’t true. Celestia’s shadow still perched on that throne. She still held court. She still passed judgment on her subjects. She still gave guidance to those who asked.

She still punished those who couldn’t be redeemed.

This is the place where she’d received the news of the war breaking out. It was as if Jachs could still feel the emotions in the air. The creeping despair as the frontline approached Canterot, the desperation, fear…that final, desperate last stand at Canterlot. The last stand that he had broken. Then, sheer terror.

This throne was empty because of him. It would always be. He will carry this until the day he dies. Instead of adding to the world, he had taken from it. Instead of making the world a better place, he cut out its heart and left nothing but tyranny in its stead.

It didn’t matter what he did now. It could be a perfect world. Everyone equal, pony and changeling-- everyone. Griffons, yaks, deer too.

Jachs approached the throne. He climbed the rings until he reached the top, and stared at the empty spot Princess Celestia once ruled from.

It could be a perfect world.

Jachs fell face first into the throne- his forehooves catching himself as he leaned against the seat, bracing himself against the red velvet cushions. “I’m sorry,” he pleaded to nought but dead air. “I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked. Jachs’ eyes closed, and his forehooves wrapped around the Throne’s armrest. He braced his forehead against it. “I’m sorry.” He spoke a dry, hoarse prayer.

The silence was his answer.

He stayed there until at last Luna embraced him. The inheritor of Canterlot and Generalmajor in the changeling army slumped pathetically against the throne, exhaustion dragging him into a restless, fatigued and uncomfortable sleep.

Celestia didn’t hear him. She was not there to absolve him of his innumerable sins- nor would she return. She wouldn’t even care to hear a changeling. They were all monsters- every last one, monsters. They had invaded peaceful people, broken and subjugated them. They were responsible for so much death, so much terror. Why didn’t they lose? Weren’t the bad guys always supposed to lose?

It could be a perfect world.

And this throne would still be empty.

Author's Note

Disclaimer: not my characters, not my story

Loyalty

"Duh-duhduhduh daaaa! This is Radio Free Equestria and we're coming at you live from a sewer pipe in the middle of nowhere! Hey these aren't fancy digs but I'll take anything that's not a changeling P.O.W. camp you get me? Whooo it stinks! But you know what doesn't stink? News!

"The changelings still can't find our pegasi friends in the Hightower. I guess clouds are pretty hard to make out against even more clouds. Make sure to give your local changeling jackboot an encouraging bump to the noggin if they look like they're sad about it!

"Let's see...ooh, seems like a certain cell out there is prepping to make a serious move. Stay safe out there ponies! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!

"Make sure to stay tuned here for updates about the resistance. Try to kick me off the air now bugs I dare you! In fact, the only thing kicking me off the air is that if I run the generator for too long I'll suffocate. Before I see you again, this is Torchlight with R.F.E. I'll always be your light in the darkness, Equestria! Stay safe out there, everypony. If you're in trouble, look to your friends and comrades. Remember that you aren't in this alone! And if you don't have any of those, you have me! So keep fighting, you hear me!? Don't give up yet! Equestria needs you!"

-R.F.E. Broadcast Records, Canterlot Public Library

An overcast day is a pleasant morning for the soldiers of the Equestrian Liberation Front. That held true for every cell-- but here in the acornage Hightower it was especially true. Overcast and fog concealed nimble pegasi stolen away in a cloudy skyscape camp, hidden from the changeling Jaegers who’d tried so hard to find it.

Rainbow Dash was especially proud of it. She’d managed to keep her little slice of heaven cut off and spirited away from the rest of Equestria. She stood on the highest cloud of the Hightower, bedecked in her old combat uniform. It was tattered and dirty. The armor broke and chipped-- the sleeves frayed and frail, but like her and all her pegasi it had endured everything the changeling war machine threw at them and it was still intact.

The wind whipped through her dirty rainbow mane as her ears strained to it. Up here, the voices and laughter from the camp were drowned out by the ever flowing sounds of the natural world. Winds, birdsong and the distant rumble of thunder…and nothing else.

She smirked.

“It’s been awhile since one’s flown by.” Beside her, Spitfire dropped from flight and trotted along the cloud surface. “Days now, isn’t it?” She continued. Dash glanced over her shoulder. Spitfire threw her own uniform away for civvies awhile back, but the old flexible armor still crossed her chest and hooves. Right now it draped over workponies’ clothes.

“Almost a week. There’s no reason why they wouldn’t patrol unless they couldn’t for some reason. I’m telling you, they’re out of fuel!” Rainbow laid on the cloud’s surface, resting her cheek on her forehooves as she spoke. “I’m just saying-- we know where they keep a lot of supplies we could use…”

“You’re about to suggest the Acornage supply depot again.” Spitfire accused, correctly-- given Rainbow’s pout and pursed lips.

“It’s SO helpless! I’m telling you it’s begging to be raided.” Rainbow pleaded, her pouting eyes widening with excess. She jumped up into a hover as she spoke-- the beat of her wings increasing in speed as her excitement rose. Spitfire rolled her eyes. “My guys have been watching it-- they got conscripts to guard it. Untrained conscripts! Give us an afternoon and we’ll fly the whole thing back here and we’ll be set for months!”

Spitfire pursed her lips and looked like she was about to lay into Rainbow for being reckless again. Instead, she paused. “Well,” the pegasus bit the inside of her lip and grimaced, staring into the distance as she pondered. She’d heard of the supply issues the changelings were having from the Manehatten cell, corroborated by the Fillydelphia cell, and now the element of loyalty herself was saying they were out of fuel.

She trusted Rainbow Dash’s judgment. In matters of aviation, the cyan mare was practically omniscient. Her eyes narrowed. “Fine.”

Rainbow jumped skyward and pumped a hoof in celebration. “Yes! Oh, you won’t regret this ma’am. By tomorrow we’ll have enough guns and food to last us till--”

“But,” Spitfire interjected. “You have one night. No casualties. Quick and dirty-- hit them hard, leave before they respond, and none of our guys get hurt. And if it looks like it’s going south…”

“We hightail it out of there faster than they can respond. We’ll be fine, Spitfire.” Rainbow waved a hoof dismissively as she landed back on the cloud. “Come on-- it’s me. Invented the rainboom-- speed record holder. You know. What could go wrong?”

“Confidence is good, Dash.” Spitfire shook her head. “But bravado…”

“Bravado gets soldiers killed.” Rainbow Dash retorted softly, a look of incredulity on her face. “How’s my record again?”

“No failed missions yet.” Spitfire chuckled. “Alright. Take your colts with you-- be back before morning or I’m sending everyone out to get you.”

Rainbow Dash saluted with the largest grin on her face she’d worn since the war ended. Then again, as long as ponies were still around to fight, had it ever really ended?

Sundancer took an indulgent drag off a pilfered cigarette. He offered it to his comrades in arms. Daisy Chain had never smoked. Her snout wrinkled as she declined the acrid offer. Silver Spirit, however, greedily took it in hoof. “So what are we here for?” Sundancer, a yellowish-red pegasus with wings that looked like, what else, dancing flames, questioned the other ponies. They were cramped inside of a small cloud-tent.

The other stallion shrugged. “Boss Lady just said ‘c'mere,’ so I ‘c’thered.’” Silver handed the cigarette back to the other stallion, passing it over the head of the small mare between them. The smoke wafted from his silver mane which almost seemed reflective in the dull lamplight of the tent. He was as his name implied-- silver of fur, of mane, and of eye. Daisy had privately thought he could have been a model once upon a time, if he ever cleaned out the dirt and grime from his mane.

“I’m sure she’ll pop in when she’s ready.” Daisy Chain, a soft cream pegasus, tactically slid out from between the two stallions and sat her radio pack up on the ground. She began to give it another check just to make sure everything was working right. Of course she'd checked it a thousand times already but it was a nice excuse not to get cigarette smoke in her face.

Sundancer snickered. “Yeah, she could tell you to jump off a cliff and you’d ‘c’there.” He snorted derisively. His tone mock-prodding, but said with a bit more venom than he’d meant to.

“Yeah,” Silver agreed. “Then I’d fly back up and ask what else she wanted me to do. Show more respect, she’s the--”

“Don’t lecture me on respect.” Sundancer’s voice peaked. “A real soldier thinks for themselves-- takes initiative, not-”

“Oh my Celestia not again!” Daisy’s hooves shot up to her ears. “I’m not listening to this for however long it takes Ardy to get here!” She threw her head back in exasperation and pursed her lips, glaring at the two stallions.

Both immediately deflated. “Ah, don’t mean anything Daisy, I'm just annoying him.” Sundancer shrugged. “You know I’d die for you both. And give you my cigs.”

“Yeah-- we’re buddies, stallions just do this sometimes. No drama, feller.” Silver gave an apologetic shrug even so. One could hear a very subtle southern accent when Silver spoke.

Daisy did not understand stallions. Daisy understood radios, electronics, and the best way to get a signal when you were having trouble. How these two could be at one another’s throat one second and then swap to being BFFs the very next was the absolute height of insanity. Luckily, she didn’t have long to contemplate it.

Rainbow Dash slid the tent door open and flew in quietly. She sat down in front of the trio, and smiled. Each immediately knew what it meant.

“Finally?” Sundancer was the one to ask.

“Yup!” Rainbow grinned. “Tonight we’re hitting the Acornage supply depot. Now, I don’t need to tell you-- it holds enough supplies to keep us stocked for months, and it’s underponied, underprepared, and completely defenseless.”

“Alright!” Sundancer leaped skyward and pumped his hoof in eagerness. “Time to bust some heads, fillies!”

“We’ve been planning this for a while.” Silver’s hoof shot to his chin and he nodded in thought. “It’s almost a crime not to hit it after all this work I put in scouting.”

“Oh- also,” Daisy Chain spoke up. “Given the elevation they’d have a really tough time putting any serious defenses around it. I’m surprised they’re even holding it.”

“Yeah- it was an old pegasus courier post before the war. My aunt worked there- it wasn’t even built for earth ponies to get to, they put it in the mountains. It’s perfect for us!” Sundancer was quick to add, and the trio nodded in unison.

“Grab your gear and meet me in the clouds over Acornage at 22:00.” Rainbow Dash ordered. Her team saluted respectfully.

Rainbow looked them over one more time. She’d been with these stallions since the start of the war, and they’d pseudo-adopted Daisy into their group after they rescued her from an overzealous love-hungry Jaeger.

The ‘colts’ as Spitfire called them, Sundancer and Silver Spirit, were the fastest and most decorated pegasi in Equestria’s military besides herself. She’d trust either of them with her life, but Daisy was special.

Daisy was the glue that held them all together. She served a dual-role, both as team medic and radio operator. She wasn’t quite as fast as the other flyers but she was also carrying another half-ponies’ weight of equipment on her back at all times. Rainbow had to lug her onto her back a couple times before and she probably would again, but she didn’t mind. Without Daisy they’d have broken apart a long time ago. In a way, Rainbow supposed she was like the little sister of the group. Besides that, Daisy was a friend.

With these ponies at her back, Rainbow Dash could take on the world. Given how the war went, she would probably have to.

The Acornage depot was tucked into a mountainside so high up it was covered in a layer of snow. It was an industrial looking building, red brick walls with a couple smokestacks grasping skyward like the frozen talons of a griffon. It was built into a piece of land that looked almost carved into the mountain, with sheer rock walls on all sides except for above it and straight in front. They were going in from above.

“So what’s even the use of building a supply point all the way up here anyway?” Sundancer landed on the cloud Daisy was using to set up her little radio base. The antenna was a dark green and pointed skyward doing little to camouflage itself into the grays of the cloud. “Wouldn’t they be better off putting it-- I dunno, in the city?”

“The way I hear it, an officer got this little stash all to himself,” Daisy responded. “He’s hoarding it all for some reason. Maybe to sell after the war?” She worked on her radio as she spoke, one ear pressed to her headphones and one listening to her comrades.

Sundancer scoffed. “So what you’re saying- we’re taking from the rich and giving to the poor. Like real heroes.”

Rainbow Dash snickered. “You got a funny way of looking at things, big guy.” She nudged Silver Spirit with her wing.

The stallion adjusted his scope. He was leaning over the cloud with a ‘borrowed’ Stalliongradian sniper rifle. “Looks like…nope, they’re still there. Shift should be changing soon though. Maybe the new guys are late.”

“Well it can’t take too long.” Dash interjected. “Remember-- we’re to be back by morning or Spitfire is coming to get us, and I really don’t want her to yell. She’ll alert the whole changeling air force dressing us down.” The trio snickered along and settled in for a night of waiting.

“Oop! Gottem.” Daisy Chain piped up, excitement almost tangible. “I found the frequency the changelings are using. 144.75! Ooh and I hear them talking too!” She leaned into her headphones, a wide and happy smile on her face.

Rainbow stood up and stretched. “Good work, Daze. How's your changeling?”

She wavered a hoof in a so-so gesture. “It’s hard with just the books-- ummm,” she bit her lower lip. “Oh-- there it is, the shift change! I recognize that! The shift is changing, Silver!”

The pony leapt into action, jumping forward to grab his rifle he’d left resting against the cloud wall. “Let’s see-- yep there it is.” He drew the scope over a pair of uniformed heer guards, turning to walk to the cliff edge. There they met two more who saluted one another and began a conversation. Silver could see them laughing. “Ugh, they’re having a chat. I don’t know how long this will take.”

Rainbow checked her watch. They still had some hours left. “Well-- even if we only have time to pull half the storage, that's still a lot of goodies. Let’s wait til they leave-- then we ambush this shift and get out before the next one comes.”

The three nodded in agreement. Sundancer stood and slung his stolen mp-10 across his chest. “I say we just go down there and take em all out. We can do it.” He stood on the clouds’ edge, flanking Rainbow from one side as Silver Spirit took the other.

“Spitfire said no risks.” She chided the eager stallion, whose ears lowered. “Just be patient. I can’t risk someone we don’t see getting away and calling in reinforcements.”

Sundancer’s wings had already extended in readiness, even so. “Aw come on-- say the word and the whole mountain is ours.” He nearly begged, but a glare from Rainbow caused him to bite his inner lip. “Fine.” He whined, rolling his eyes good naturedly.

“Wait a minute-- Ardy, guys, something's…weird.” Daisy Chain piped up and Rainbow pricked up her ear.

“Weird…how?” Rainbow and the stallions glanced quizzically back at Daisy, who had her headphones on and her hooves pressed tightly to it, almost shoving the things into her ears.

“There’s a weird amount of talking.” She thrummed her hooves against her ears as she tried to focus. Her eyes closed. “Like there’s a weirdly high amount of changelings talking. I think there’s ones here we don’t see-- I wish, I wish I could understand it…”

Sundancer was the first to speak up. “Have they seen us?!”

“No…at least, I don’t think so. They’re not angry, it's just casual chatter. I can only understand a few words.” She tapped her hoof against her headphones. “I’m sorry I wish I knew.”

“Well maybe they’re having a laugh like these guys.” Silver Spirit kept his scope trained on the four changelings talking by the cliff edge. “Seems to be a pretty relaxed group.”

Rainbow glanced back at the storage building below them. They were directly above the roof- and the one place no changeling ever looked was straight up. They had the height advantage and the element of surprise, so what could a few extra changelings even do?

Still, why not be a little cautious? Rainbow cleared her throat. “Alright. We’re splitting up- Silver, Daisy, you’re on lookout. Anything look off? Give us a yell.”

“Roger,” Silver still had his scope on the talking changelings.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Daisy was eager.

Dash continued. “Sundancer, you and I are taking the top floor. We each go in from a window on one side-- I take the left, you take the right. We meet in the center and work our way down.”

“Hell yeah!” He racked his wing over his submachine gun. “Let’s party!”

Rainbow cleared her throat. Here comes her favorite part. Each pegasus, excepting Daisy, lined up at the cloud’s edge. The trio stood with their hooves an inch from oblivion “Now,” She smiled. “Who does Equestria trust the most?”

Each pegasus, even Daisy chanted in unison. “The Pegasi!”

Rainbow returned, her voice rising to a fever pitch. “Who do the stallions and mares love the most!?”

The statement was answered by a similar chant in raising tension. “The Pegasi!!”

Rainbow bared her teeth. “And who do the changelings fear the most!?”

They all chanted in unison. “The Pegasi!!” Threatening to alert the guards with their sheer zeal.

“For Equestria!” Rainbow shouted, and the three leapt into the endless expanse of blue she called her home.

For six glorious seconds Rainbow Dash flew in tight formation with her friends again, as she’d done with the Wonderbolts in the years before the war. Wind whipped her mane and snow flurries trailed along her fur as she and her comrades plummeted downwards like the sword of god herself into these witless invaders. Her at the front, her comrades at either side. This is what she lived for.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. She glanced at Silver Spirit, who gave her a quick mid-fly hoof salute, before he broke off to find a sniping position.

The remaining two pegasi, Rainbow and Sundancer, formed a double helix with their movements. Like a descending strand of DNA they crossed back and forth over one another, their speed gradually increasing before the mid-air dance of pegasi reached a crescendo with the sudden lurch sideways just before hitting the roof-- and back under as each pegasus slammed through a window on either side of the depot.

Shattering glass mixed with reflecting snow flurries as Rainbow barreled onto a metallic catwalk. Her maw drew a dagger from its sheath as she locked eyes with the most terrified Changeling invader she’d ever seen, and grinned.

A pair of binoculars coloured cloudy white peaked from a dirty gray snow cloud. A changeling watched a trio of pegasi break off and execute one of the most perfect combat landings he’d ever seen, and his snout wrinkled. These were professionals. “Adler to Kardinal. Adler to Kardinal.” He spoke softly. He rolled over onto his back, stretching as he stood up and gripped his portable radio in a magical green aura.

“Go, Adler.” Came a response from the other end.

“Got some here. Mark Acornage as active. Only three but one of them’s ‘Her’.” His eyes, cloudy blue and lacking pupils, narrowed. “Engaging.”

“‘Der Blaue Teufel’? Negative. Do not engage- we’re too far away to support.” The voice on the other end pleaded. “You can’t take her on your own. Don’t engage. Adler!”

Adler shut his radio off and licked his fangs. “Teufel” He growled, his voice a mockery of Kardinal as the black-armoured changeling slipped back into his cloud. He’d see for himself if she truly was a devil soon enough.

“Bitte nein!” The changeling managed to cry out in shock. He scrambled backwards, dropping his gun in shock and fear. He dropped to his hooves, lifting them skyward. “Bitte!”

Rainbow dug her dagger into the shocked changeling's throat before he could utter a further sound. Her hoof jumped to his mouth-- silencing his scream until it turned to a low gurgling on his own blood, and then silence. The pegasus withdrew her hoof and wiped the fresh crimson on the unlucky ‘lings uniform. “Gross,” she grimaced-- then rolled her eyes at her own hesitance. How had she not gotten used to this by now?

A quick glance around confirmed she was alone on this side of the building. She turned on her hooves and swiftly followed the catwalk around the room, sparing a glance for her comrade across the open warehouse. She watched as Sundancer wrapped his hooves around a changeling's neck and twisted-- snapping it in one practiced motion.

“Hilfe!”

A guttural voice called. A changeling posted down below had seen the shattering glass and was posturing his machine gun- aiming right at Sundancer. Dash moved on instinct. She leapt from the catwalk and lanced downwards into the monster, augmenting her flight speed with gravity to land a solid, violent hoof-blow square into his jaw from a story up. He was sent reeling onto the cold concrete floor, thrown sideways, and knocked out in one hit.

“Daaamn,” Sundancer leapt downwards, bringing himself to a hover in the center of the room. “Glad I’m not that guy.”

She shrugged. “Is that all of them?”

Suddenly, with a loud ‘crack!’ from up high in the clouds, a sniper rifle answered. Rainbow heard a yell in that strange changeling language, and a body fell into the snow outside.

Well, If the changelings didn’t know they were here before they certainly did now.

Silver Spirit racked the bolt of his rifle, and drew the scope to the other two running changelings. They’d turned tail and sprinted to the outskirts of the depot, trying to hide themselves among the snowdrifts. These two weren’t really threats anymore, shattered and terrified as they were-- but better safe than sorry.

He focused on controlling his breathing, slowing his heart rate, and the feel of the wooden stock in his hooves. There was only him and the target in front of him. The changeling was panicking, running back and forth-- he didn’t know where to go, he didn’t know where Silver was. This gave him pause for a moment. These aren’t veteran soldiers of the Heer, this was a conscript. Barely more than a child and with the discipline to match.

Still, such thoughts had no place on the battlefield.

Silver exhaled, and squeezed the trigger. With a crack like thunder, and the recoil of his rifle shuddering his shoulder, the changeling fell dead in the snow with a splash of deep crimson red on a white background. That one would not be calling for help. The pegasus racked the bolt and smirked.

Then, he drew the scope over the other changeling. This one had his head buried in the snow, perhaps trying to play dead. It was almost pathetic. Almost too easy. His scope drew over the ‘dead’ changelings’ head, he exhaled, and-

“Silver!” Daisy’s voice cut through his portable radio. “Behind-”

Silver Spirit’s chest exploded in agony as a changeling dagger ran through it. The pain was immense. He couldn’t even scream as the words caught in his throat. He managed only a soft whimper, his voice harsh and breathless, as the dagger drew from his back.

He fell forward, coughing, as a hoof kicked him onto his back. His eyes went wide with fear as he beheld a changeling soldier, bedecked in black armor, standing above him and waving a dagger about in magical grip. It was…bloody. That was his blood. His blood? His hoof brushed across the wound in his chest. He couldn’t breathe. Did it get his lung?

The changeling stood over him, his fangs flashed in a dark grin. “Never turn your back to the enemy, rebel.” The changeling accused, jamming his hoof into Silver’s chest wound. His eyes closed-- he cried out.

“Fuck you,” he spat the words, gurgling on his own blood. Silver glared into the pupil less eyes of the changeling above him.

Adler paused. He shouldn’t play with his food-- not while the devil was about, there would be time to play with her when she was at his mercy like this. In answer to Silver’s defiance, Adler drew his pistol and shoved it into the pony's mouth.

The pegasus bit down on the barrel and glared, his flat white teeth braced against the gun, daring Adler to pull the trigger.

The back of the sniper’s head exploded in a gunshot as a deafening ‘snap’ muffled by Silver Spirit’s throat, echoed around the crater. Fresh bloody ichor mixed with the soft white of a snowcloud.

Rainbow Dash jammed a crowbar against the lid of a crate, and with both her and Sundancer’s weight, pressed downwards on it hard enough to snap open the lid. “Little more!” She egged her comrade on- and a sudden ‘snap’ from outside caught her attention. Rainbow jumped back and glanced at Sundancer.

He was already drawing his submachine gun. “That wasn’t a rifle bullet…” his ears drooped as he glanced upwards. “Do you think--?”

“Ardy!” A voice cut through her portable radio. Daisy’s voice. “Silver’s hurt!” The pair of pegasi exchanged a look-- a silent nodding agreement that right now, nothing else mattered. Both pairs of wings extended, and both shot skyward, leaving through one another’s windows and finding home in the sky once more.

“Eleven high!” The guiding voice came through Rainbow’s radio, and she pointed with her hoof. Her and Sundancer swiftly found the cloud-nest Silver’d been using-- and the shining dark red that painted it.

Rainbow’s wings beat fast enough she was in danger of causing another rainboom. Pure adrenaline and fear, for the first time since the war, fueled the pegasus. “Silver!” Rainbow landed first, calling helplessly to the prone form of her friend. “Silver!!” She called louder, sprinting to his side-- but it was no use.

The stallion lay prone against the cloud, his rifle slung to the side. His head hung limply over the side, dripping crimson drops into the snow below. “Damnit!” Sundancer landed next, baring his teeth. “Goddamnit!” he punched the cloud surface next to the corpse-- next to Silver’s body. Sundancer started, fury in his eyes-- and then he turned to Rainbow Dash.

The sight of her friend’s lifeless body made her feel like she was looking at something forbidden. She felt dirty-- wrong, like she just…shouldn’t be here, like she shouldn’t be seeing this. Rainbow’s breath caught in her throat and she locked eyes with her friend-- no, with the corpse. His eyes were still upon, fear and anger writ upon them like a bloodstained scroll.

Her fault.

“Why did you tell us to split up!?” He accused, his face an inch from fashes, fury in his blazing eyes. “Why did you let him go off on his own!?” He shoved his hoof into Rainbow’s chest.

She stammered, helpless. “I- I-” Rainbow tried to find the words, but nothing she could think to say would help. Sundancer was right, and she knew it. She made the call to split up- this was her fault. His death was her fault.

“Guys,” Daisy’s voice on the radio cut through once more. “Whoever killed Silver is still there. We can’t be fighting amongst ourselves right now.”

Rainbow’s hoof found her radio, a silent thank-you, and nodded. “She’s right. We-- we need to--.”

“Good.” Sundancer racked the bolt on his machine gun. “Saves us the trouble.”

“No,” Rainbow countered quickly. “He’s probably going after Daisy right now. He’s picking off the ones that are alone. I want you to find her and take her back to the Hightower.” Despite the situation, Rainbow Dash found herself remarkably calm and collected.

“What? Run away?” Sundancer glared, baring his teeth. “After they killed--”

“Yes.” She glared, her eyes locked with Sundancer’s own.

His own rolled. “And what are you gonna do?”

Rainbow Dash softly exhaled. She glanced down to the corpse of her friend- the corpse of one of the stallions she’d ridden through this hell of a war with, and back up to the one she could still protect. “I’m going to give him a target.”

The back of the depot was an open white field- surrounded by rocky walls on all sides, save the sheer brick wall of the building itself. Dash sat in the center and waited. No pegasus would ever refuse such a blatant challenge like this-- and she hoped the changeling wouldn’t either.

A sudden wind whipped through the snowy field that carried with it a flurry of thicker than usual snowfall. As it blew through the haunted depot building, she could hear it whistle through the shattered windows and battle scars. Some broken metal piece of roofing thrashed into another with each gust. One didn’t have to be a weather pony to tell a storm was coming.

Rainbow didn’t have to wait long for it. In front of her landed a tall, slender changeling and the pegasus stood to meet him. He was a lanky sort-- but his armor was unlike any she’d ever seen. It seemed to mimic her own. Built for function in the air- plates of kevlar wrapped around the chest and legs, but light for swift movements. Most striking of all-- a shining emblem on his right leg, dark red. A pegasi wing over crossed bones. Rainbow’s nostrils flared in anger involuntarily.

“Brave.” He spoke softly, drawing his dagger from its sheath. He gripped it magically-- swirling it about above his head, a dull green on the handle twirling it to and fro. “How’d you know I wouldn’t just shoot you?”

“I didn’t.” Rainbow glared, her legs spread in a combat stance. She stared into the changelings’ eyes, fury on her face.

The flying dagger tapped against the changelings’ chin. “I see. You’re here to cover for your retreating comrades. There’s a pegasus worth her wings.” He bowed his head respectfully. “I almost wish I didn’t have to kill you-- but you did kill alot of my people…”

“And you, mine.” Rainbow countered without missing a beat.

He shrugged. “True enough.” Noticing her eyes lingering on his dancing dagger, he drew it over his emblem. The wing on crossed bones. “Do you know what this means?” He posited, taking Rainbow’s silence as an answer. “It marks a member of the Pegasosjagdgruppe. You get it after your fifth kill.”

“Pegasus hunters?” Rainbow retorted, her tail twitching as her legs braced in the snow. Her eyes locked on his dagger, tension in her bones.

“So you do speak a little of my language. You really are a cut above the usual rabble.” The changeling’s dagger danced in the air above his horn, it bounced up and down, mimicking a toss upwards and then a catch.

Rainbow’s eyes never left his blade. “I know the important bits.” She spoke simply. “Enough with the small talk. I’m not letting you leave here alive, monster.” Rainbow declared, drawing her own combat knife into her teeth.

“Monster…?” The changeling leaned back against the wall of the depot, grazing his blade along the brick. It made an ominous scraping noise. “Typical Equestrian moral grandstanding. Tell me-- that first changeling you killed today, do you know what he said?”

Rainbow’s silence was his answer. She thought back to the changeling screaming something in their language. Probably a warning to his comrades.

“He said, ‘please don’t kill me.’”

Rainbow’s eyes went wide. She stammered, “H-he,” cutting herself off as her first instinct was to apologize to the demon staring her down, but that can’t be right. The changeling must be lying to throw her off.

As Rainbow scrambled to justify herself, the changeling moved with the speed of lightning. He dashed through the snow, his dancing blade thrown forward, slicing snow flurries in a lancing motion. She could only just react. Rainbow threw herself to the side with an inch to spare. She could swear she felt the side of the blade rest against her throat for a nanosecond.

The knife drew back through the air as the changeling charged. Put off balance by the movement, Rainbow left herself open- he twisted and threw the blade in a sideways motion, bringing it up- aimed square at her throat.

Rainbow Dash was only just fast enough. She leapt skyward, following the motion of the blade until she was hovering an inch from the point. Now, she was in the air. Now, she could finally move.

She twisted sideways, letting the blade sail harmlessly above her head as she plunged downwards, hoof extended in a gravity-augmented jab. The changeling danced sideways, evading her attack with effortless grace. His blade flew back into a resting position just above his horn, and he gave a respectful nod of his head, and a cheeky little bow.

Dash gritted her teeth. This was a game to him? Fine, she’d play it on her terms.

Dash charged forward and missed-- but she wasn’t aiming for the changeling. Banking left, she picked up speed, her wings catching a swirling air current she herself was producing. The changeling braced still-- his chitin hooves jammed into the snow. Then, the product of Dash’s movements became clear. A small tornado of snow, blurring and obscuring vision twirled about the depot field and threw flurries into the air like a frozen flashbang.

Glancing through her little tornado-- Dash saw the changeling’s forehoof rise to cover his eyes, he was being buffeted by snow on all sides. She charged, like a lance through the rising frost, and cut through the blizzard. He didn’t have time to react. Her hoof landed square on the changeling’s side and she felt something crack. He was thrown clear of the snow-devil, and dash smirked. She stepped beyond the bounds of the frost-swirl as it began to dissipate and looked over her fallen adversary.

Only-- he was smirking, and his dagger wasn’t hovering above his horn.

Pegasi have an advantage over changelings in the air. Their wings are extraordinarily sensitive to air currents-- even the smallest change or movement tickles the feathers. Experienced pegasi can read their feathers and essentially see movement in a 360-degree field around themselves. It was this that allowed Rainbow to catch the dagger plummeting towards her back at lightning speed.

She dived sideways-- but she wasn’t fast enough. The dagger caught something. She felt it rip into her withers, a gash of red and searing pain. She cried out. Reflexively flexing her wing to make sure it was still here-- it was. Rainbow felt hot liquid flow down her back as she locked eyes with the prone changeling.

“You’re the first to survive that move.” He stood with a limp, his forehoof dipping inwards to caress his broken rib. He spat on the ground- shining red in his saliva. “I must say,” he spoke with effort- his voice strained. “You are a worthy foe.” He brought his flying dagger up in front of his throat, a defensive posture, Dash recognized.

She didn’t give him time to use it. Despite her wound-- she held the speed advantage still, and she capitalized. She leapt forward, pushing from the ground with both her wings and hooves, and her own blade bared.

He caught it with his, and the pair traded blows. Each thrust of Rainbow’s blade was expertly parried with a flash of steel on steel. She cut through his guard time and again, flying above, around- behind. Each thrust was caught by his dancing blade and his expert predicting of her movements. Both combatants were slowing- but he was slowing more so.

Rainbow debated keeping up the assault and simply wearing him out-- but she couldn’t chance him getting the better of her. He would expect that.

Instead, in a swift flutter back, she threw her wing in the snow and lurched it forward. Snow exploded upwards. It only gave her a half second of cover but that was all she needed. His blade was too slow to catch her next thrust. Dash ducked under his knife, and slammed her head forwards. She caught him mid-parry, her blade slicing square across his throat. Then- her hoof braced against his chest and shoved him back. Off balance, he tumbled, and his magical grip faltered. The blade that claimed the lives of so many pegasi fell, hapless, in the snow.

The changeling’s hoof went to his throat. He tried to cover it-- to stop the bleeding. It was in vane, Rainbow Dash knew. She also knew that a combatant that wasn’t dead was still a threat. So, she hovered still in the air, her eyes locked both on the blade and on the changeling’s hooves=- he might have another weapon on his person, after all.

He could see what she was thinking. He probably would have done the exact same in her position. As the changeling died, his hooves covered in his own blood, Rainbow Dash caught a strange look in his eye. He smiled…and then his eyes shut. She had watched him die.

Rainbow drew up her dagger and made sure they’d never open again.

“Would somepony like to tell me where the hell Rainbow Dash and Silver Spirit are!?” Spitfire stormed through the Hightower, anger blazing in her eyes as she beheld the exhausted forms of both Sundancer and Daisy Chain. The pair had swiftly retreated into the colts’ tent upon returning, carrying nothing but their own equipment, and lacking two other pegasi.

Sundancer turned away, shaking his head solemnly. Daisy caught their commander’s gaze. “Silver…didn’t make it.” She subtly teared up, brushing her sadness away with a hoof. “There were complications. Dash--”

“Complications?!” Spitfire’s voice was carrying across the entire camp with the sheer volume. “A complication, soldier, is when you trip on your rifle and slam your head into the dirt. Not when you lose two of the most decorated soldiers in Equestria! Private First Class Daisy Chain- since Corporal Sundancer appears to have had his tongue cut out, what happened?!”

Sundancer didn’t have time to retort. “An ambush happened.” Rainbow Dash appeared at the tent flap as if in answer. Her body was covered in bruises and blood, feathers torn and ripped. It was like she just walked out of a haunted house in a bad slasher movie.

“Ardy!” Daisy Chain leapt forward, her hooves immediately finding the worst of the cuts- that deep wound across her withers. “Oh Celestia, oh no.” She fussed. “Please lay down-- no, go to the medic-- no, no time I have to do it here!” She became suddenly pushy, all but shoving Rainbow aside and onto one of the small benches. The briefing tent was hardly medically sterile but it would have to do.

“You should see the other guy.” She attempted levity but the dark stares of the other pegasi quickly dissuaded her. Rainbow Dash was further ‘suggested,’ despite her protests, to lay on her chest as Daisy began stitching and bandaging up her back.

The ranking pegasus visibly grimaced. Dash thought she caught a flash of sympathy in her typical iron-pony facade. “Rainbow-” Spitfire spoke, but Dash cut her off.

“I know. You were right and I was wrong.” She interjected, with something between resignation and anger. “Silver Spirit died a hero- protecting his comrades. And I was the one that got him killed.”

A silence befell the tent. For a time the only sound was Daisy’s sutures working along Rainbow’s back, and the cyan pegasus’s own soft pained grunts.

“I know you don’t wanna hear this right now,” Spitfire continued on, her voice gentle-- despite it all. “But we’re going to have to move The Hightower. They know we’re here now.”

“Yeah.” Dash sighed. “Sorry.”

“Bad calls happen.” Spitfire shook her head, turning to leave. Silently, Rainbow noted she wasn’t getting the verbal thrashing she’d planned on getting. “We’re going to join up with the Albion Cell. It’ll be a hell of an effort to move us that far. I need our best weather-pony at her best.” With that, Spitfire stepped beyond the bounds of the tent and out of sight. From her tone, it was both an order and a request.

After a few minutes of Daisy’s silent stitching, Sundancer took a seat by the pair. He sighed loudly. “It wasn’t your fault, Dash.”

Rainbow shook her head swiftly. “I’m not accepting that.” Was her plain and perfunctory answer. “I gave the order-- it’s my responsibility.”

“Responsibility sure-- but not your fault.” He emphasized that last word, almost violently, with a noted increase in volume. “He was loyal, Rainbow. If you’d asked him to die to protect us I know he would have done it without a second thought. That’s why I know he’s not…” He lifted his hoof to his forehead, tapping it, as if trying to draw out the words physically. “You know. He wouldn’t be sad about this. He wouldn’t mind dying like this. He was a soldier. It’s what we do. I suck at this but-- ugh, you know what I mean?”

The two mares both glanced at Sundancer with something approaching genuine awe. They held their stares for a solid three seconds. “What?” He shrugged. “I’m right.”

“Y-yeah, I just…wasn’t expecting you to say that,” Daisy was quick to pipe up.

“I appreciate the thought, Sundancer, even if I don’t…even if the wound is still fresh, you know?” Rainbow shrugged, causing a subtle ‘hiss’ from Daisy as she tried to stop her shoulders moving.

“I know…” he sighed, and the trio sat together in silence. It was hard to enjoy the company of one’s friends when one was missing.

“Daisy?” Rainbow queried suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Mm?” she responded quietly, obviously focused on the sutures.

“What does bit-a-nein mean? In the Changeling language?”

“Umm,” she hummed in thought. “‘Please…do not’? Or don’t. No it’s ‘please no’. Something like that. Why?”

Rainbow swallowed. Her face crossed with a distant stare as her eyes beheld the dull green tent flaps, staring intently into them as if the very mysteries of the universe were written in the fabric.

“...No reason.” She lied.

Author's Note

Took awhile to get this one out. Hope the extra length makes up for it.

By Queen's Command

Jachs nervously tapped his hoof against the soft carpet of his small office. Beside him, Obestluetnant Alcippe and Kommandant Second Wind sat uncomfortably in two small folding chairs. Both were massaging their temples in their hooves.

“One month.” Jachs turned on the spot, quickly throwing back a shot of vodka. In the same breath, he tossed the shot glass and grabbed the entire bottle from his desk. “One month!” He chugged back half of it in one long swig, only stopping to come up for air and nearly coughing up a lung. “Of course she expects us to vet and train a platoon of batpony soldiers in a month.” He ground his teeth so hard his fangs were in danger of cracking. “Tell me either of you have an idea? I’ll take anything. Even a hail mary.”

Jachs fell back into his chair, slamming his head on the desk in the same motion. He joined the duo, his own hooves finding his temples to softly massage them. It did little to help.

“We…could draft them?” Alcippe spoke, tapping her hind hooves against the soft carpeted floor.

Second Wind’s wings fanned himself as he stared squarely into the distance. “Bad idea. No time to vet anypony. We’d end up conscripting a full squad of E.L.F. infiltrators if we’re unlucky. If we’re lucky they’re lunar loyalists working alone.”

Jachs’ hooves began to tap restlessly against his desk before he quieted his mounting anxieties with another swig of communist vodka. At least the burning in his throat gave him something else to focus on. “We might have to roll the dice.” He exasperatedly opined, kicking his chair back to let it fall half against the bookshelves behind him. It teetered there precariously. “The Queen was quite clear in her letter. I foul this up, I’m out, a hardliner takes power and--”

“And that wouldn’t be good for anypony.” Second Wind sighed heavily, finishing the Generalmajor’s sentence. “Hell, we’re really gonna have to roll the dice aren’t we?”

Alcippe tapped her forehead with her forehoof. “I’ll draw up the papers. We’re really doing this?”

“I don’t have any other choice.” Jachs sighed. “We don’t have any other choice. It’s a gamble, but…fuck it.” He began to polish off his bottle of vodka, before drawing out yet another from his desk. He poured two glasses, and scooted each to the soldiers in front of him. “Fuck it?” he repeated.

“Fuck it.” Second Wind carefully gripped the glass in his wing.

“Oh…Queen’s mercy. Fuck it.” Alcippe answered, taking hers in a dull green magical glow.

The trio clinked their glasses together “and here’s hoping for a lucky roll.” Jachs declared.

The Queen’s airship hovered low above Canterlot, as it had only a month ago. At its prow sat Herself, regarding the town below with casual interest. She’d seen it before. She’d seen it often in the past months, even. It still felt good. For Queen Chrysalis, there could be no sweeter revenge against the perfidious ponies than taking their capital and making it her own. Only once ponies stopped seeing it as the seat of their government and began instead seeing it as it truly was; that being an arm of the changeling military machine, would her revenge be truly complete.

As it stands now, the way the little ant-looking ponies down there bowed their heads low as the ominous shadow fell across them would do. “For now”, Chrysalis thought, smiling to herself.

“Oh, y-your most excellent, most terrible and beautiful majesty!” From behind came the shrill voice of her seneschal. Chrysalis didn’t like his voice. It was nasally, sort of foalish, and altogether unpleasant.

She snorted through her nostrils. “Laying it on thick with the flattery today, aren’t we?” She turned, her tall and lithe form positively towering over him. Even among changelings he was short. Compared to her, he may as well have been the foal he sounded like.

Unperturbed, he swiftly bowed. “Oh, t-this useless, pathetic bug is but w-weak and stupid, compared t-to you! F-flattery, though it may s-seem, is but the truth!”

She knew better than to fight him on this. “What do you want, Seneschal?”

“To-” He visibly recoiled, snout wrinkling. Chrysalis gave the poor little thing some time to sort his thoughts. “To dissuade you of this-this s-stupid foolish notion o-of visitation! Y-your majesty, s-such an invitation is surely treachery in the making!” He quickly blurted out. “T-there is no way your proposition was accepted s-so quickly in good faith!

The Queen snickered, rolling her eyes. “That is your favourite word, isn’t it?” She cast her gaze back out the window, softly continuing. “Treachery this, betrayal that. Traitors, those. There is a bomb under every chair, a sniper in every window. Don’t you ever get tired of these assumptions?”

Looking aghast, the seneschal quickly paced around the Queen’s parlour. His hooves patted against the luxurious russet carpet. “I am not paranoid!” He shouted, after a few seconds of intense concentration.

Chrysalis didn’t respond, resting her chin on her hoof as she looked down at Canterlot. Her city. Hers.

“Y-you will see.” Throwing his head back, he turned and trotted quickly out into the confines of the flying battleship.

Chrysalis picked at her fangs. “Idiot.” She whispered under her breath.

A heavier knock rapped on her door a moment after Seneschal had left. Armoured hooves. Praetorian. “Yes Tremor?”

“Are you ready to disembark, Your Majesty?”

Chrysalis stood from her comfy chaise lounger and stretched. “I am.” She grasped the heavy bulkhead door in her magic and flung it open. The praetorian, well used to such things, stood there with his hooves at his side at attention. “I want you and three of your best to accompany me.”

His hoof fell to his magical lancegun. “Are we expecting trouble, Your Majesty?”

“No, Tremor.” She shook her head. “Seneschal is. I’d rather be over-prepared than under-prepared, even so.”

He bowed deeply. “Your will be done.”

Queen Chrysalis threw open the throne room doors like she owned the place, flinging them hard enough with her magic to trip an unlucky sentry bug. The bug in question quickly scrambled to stand and salute as she stroud proudly into the room.

There were the officers. Generalmajor Jachs, Alcippe, and Second Wind. She mentally ticked each off in her mind, quietly proud of herself for remembering their names this time. The Generalmajor, caught off guard, was scrambling to put his cap on and bow. The queen did not give him time to.

“Someling told me we have some thestrals to inspect!” She canted in a sing-song voice. An emerald green magic took hold of Jachs’ chin and she tilted his gaze up to meet her own. “I don’t want to waste time on formalities today! I want to see my new soldiers!” Her voice boomed, an affectation of the Queen’s own ‘royal canterlot voice’ just like the Princess Luna. Only, hers was better, because it was changeling.

Jachs nearly fell forward onto his face. “Right away your majesty.” His voice remained effortlessly even, thwarting Chrysalis’s attempt to throw him off his game. Quietly, the queen mourned the chance to see him squirm.

“And why were you not there to receive me on my landing?” She had yet to release her grip on him, cantering back and forth like she was pacing on the spot. “It was very hurtful, you know, my little changeling? It’s almost like you don’t want me here.” Chrysalis looked over him and saw the other two officers, Second Wind and Alcippe, share a quick and telling glance. She filed that little nugget away for future reference. “I’m very sensitive, you know. I get anxious when I think everyling doesn’t like me. You do like me, don’t you?”

She was toying with him. She knew it and he probably knew it too. Still, such improprieties demanded a little punishment, even if only a little. “Regretfully, your majesty. We’ve…received word of a-- some missing items. I had just finished addressing the situation. I apologise for any offence I have caused.”

Chrysalis made a show of pursing her lips and pouting. “And…I do like you, your majesty.” Added the generalmajor, a bit sheepishly.

Chrysalis threw her head back and laughed heartily, releasing her magical grip upon him in the same motion. “Oh fine. I forgive you.” Deeming him suitably embarrassed she chuckled softly to herself and tossed her mane. “But you still hurt my feelings.”

Jachs quickly righted himself, adjusting his uniform and brushing his shoulders. Everyling in the room, he noticed, had politely averted their eyes while he was being disciplined. At least they respected him enough to do that.

“I’m curious what ‘missing items’ would be so important as to distract from my arrival.” The queen wondered aloud, brushing past the trio and taking her seat upon Celestia’s old throne. She lifted a hoof and inspected it, as if assuming the position of a goddess was the most casual thing in the world.

Alcippe stepped up. “Three light tanks and a heavy.” The room quieted. One could hear a pin drop. Jachs internally groaned.

“Ah.” Chrysalis settled upon the throne, throwing her hind legs out over one of the arm rests, resting her back between it and the other. “Would you like to explain to me how one loses multi million bits worth of changeling military machines?” Her voice was sickly calm. Not even a hint of anger was betrayed.

“An old warehouse in Ponyville we were using to store surplus was empty when logistics came to inspect it.” The oberstleutnant replied diplomatically. “They were discovered missing only an hour ago. The garrison in the region had--”

The queen blew a raspberry. “Oh, whatever. Drunken soldiers taking the tank out for a joyride. Not the first time it has happened. Not the last it ever will.” She lifted a fore, stretching it out as she settled sideways into the throne. “Now, Kommandant. My thestral jaegers if you please.”

Second Wind glanced at Jachs who gave him a subtle nod. Jachs said a quiet prayer. Here goes nothing.

“The Queen’s Own Thestral Jaegers!” Second Wind announced as the procession of nocturnal bat ponies trotted into the throne room. One-hundred soldiers dressed in a mockery of the Lunar Guard armour, changeling tridents laid over old alicorn emblems. Bat ponies, or ‘thestrals,’ as the three tribes called them, had fangs not unlike the changeling’s own. They had membranous wings and thick ear tufts.

Luna’s most ardent supporters, reduced to Her own servants. How delicious.

Queen Chrysalis watched closely, leaning up over the throne, sharp green eyes drawing zig zagging lines along the armoured troops-- and she could tell they were poorly trained. They did not march in step. They fidgeted, rather than standing stock still at attention as a proper soldier. Closer inspection further revealed a general lack of discipline among them. Their armour was clearly second hand, their bat pony hoof blades unpolished and worn.

She settled back into her throne, with a slowly deepening frown. “This is it?” She spat the words, disappointment creeping into her tone more than anger. “These lot are barely more than a militia, much less a jaeger team.”

Jachs was beginning to recite an apology, no doubt one he’d prepared in advance, when Chrysalis heard something. A word no mare likes to hear. A word like this, said to a Queen, which caused her cheeks to burn in rage and humiliation. It was quiet. Spoken in as soft a voice to be mistaken for the wind, but there was no doubt. From within the bat pony ranks came a tiny, infuriating whisper.

“Bitch.”

Alcippe gasped. For four uncomfortable seconds there was a terrible silence.

Then Chrysalis felt her eyes narrow, her fangs bared. Rage lit her horn in a green flame. “Who among you just signed your own death warrant!?” She threw herself to her hooves, marching down the stairs directly into the ranks. One unlucky bat pony, the closest soldier in front, found himself lifted by a magical hold around his neck. “Was it you? You cowardly flying rats-- I’ll burn you alive!”

His hooves pawed uselessly at his throat. He shook his head ‘no’. “Then who!?” Around her, her praetorians were already surrounding the bat ponies. Each one drawing their lanceguns and bracing the heavy magical weapons against the floor. “Answer me-- or by your soon-to-be dead, pathetic goddess of the night, I will have all of you rats slaughtered!!”

Second Wind’s teeth clenched shut. He knew he should intervene here-- but what could he say? Plead for mercy, be thought of as agreeing with the unlucky sod? Lie and say he did it? Why couldn’t the idiot just stay quiet for a little bit?!

Alcippe found herself stepping closer to Second Wind. The pair shared another nervous glance. This situation was deteriorating rapidly out of her control-- and what’s worse was she had no way to stop it.

“My Queen.” Everyling and everypony turned to Jachs, who had strode up beside the queen. His voice was kept even and calm, practised and diplomatic. “There’s no reason to punish all of them.”

Scoffing, Chrysalis threw the pony in her grip down onto the floor. “Oh I didn’t want to-- but if all these little monsters harbour one of their number capable of saying such things, then they’re all traitors!” She panted a shout, fury glittering on her brow.

They were ex-lunar guards and served in a pegasi division during the war. It was a stroke of luck so many were willing to join up. Still, these idiots were loyal to each other, Second Wind knew that. Even to the less serious and more infantile members among them. He also knew that they would gladly all die for each other. They would gladly be martyrs just to insult the queen. A lot of needless deaths would happen if he kept his mouth shut. But if he did speak up, then…

“Praetorians, arms.” Chrysalis commanded. The black-armoured changeling soldiers answered, their hooves finding the triggers of their guns. The lancetips began to glow an azure blue that harkened back to the Crystal Empire. “I’ll make it simple.” She began to back away, and Jachs began to panic.

“If nopony speaks up in the next five seconds,” her voice dropped. It turned low, guttural. Like a growl. “Then clean this Equestrian filth from my throne room!” Jachs saw looks of determined resignation on chiropteran faces. Eyes closed. Some mouthed words of silent prayer.

Four, three. Jachs couldn’t stop this. Damnit-- he hadn’t been paying attention. He was focused on Chrysalis. If he’d just been paying more attention to the volunteers. Another atrocity, all at his hooves. Goddamnit why didn’t she just kill him instead?

Two. Jachs closed his eyes, whispered “I’m sorry,” and waited.

One. “Private Sunfall Dream!” The voice came from beyond the pony volunteers, from their commander. Second Wind had taken wing, flying directly over the platoon. “Would you like to explain to everypony why you think it is proper Heer conduct to insult the Queen, of which the Changeling Queendom is named for, right in her very own throne room!?”

Silence met him. “I asked you a question, private!” His voice shook the throne room, almost matching Chrysalis’s own in sheer volume.

Chrysalis let out a dark laugh. “Ah, it seems somepony has spoken up.” She waved her hoof, a silent command to her guard. They lowered their lances. “Though not one whom I expected.” With her hoof, she shoved aside the few bat pony soldiers between her and the curious Sunfall Dream.

The pony of the hour! He was wiry and thin, a red mane and orange coat that looked quite warm and sunny for a bat pony. As she took hold of his chin in her magic and forced him to look at her, Queen Chrysalis saw not fear in his eyes, but defiance. Anger. “Are all thestrals so cowardly? To allow their entire team to die in the vain hope to save themselves?” His eye twitched, betraying said anger poorly hidden behind the facade of attention. Chrysalis could feel it emanating off him. “Or is it just that you are singularly pathetic?”

Second Wind hovered nervously. The fool was being punished-- but this is just what she did to Jachs. Public humiliation. Nothing more. So long as he doesn’t do anything else stupid, he should be fine.

Then Sunfall Dream spat in Chrysalis’s face.

That quiet. That same four seconds of terrible quiet, like how the tides recede before calamity slams onto shore. “So be it.” Terrible coolness in her voice. Lacking anger, simple matter of fact resignation. Chrysalis wiped her face with a hoof, and magically grabbed the pony by his mane.

He cried out as she dragged him before his platoon, hoof blades scrabbling uselessly against her chitin. “You are a tyrant!” He shouted, as she threw onto the soft red rug that led from the throne to the entrance door. “Heartless, evil bitch!”

The praetorians had moved to form a wall between chrysalis and the rest of the bats. They began to shove and jostle one another. Some holding others back. Somepony began to sob.

Sunfall Dream climbed to his hooves. He stood before the Queen of the changelings. She regarded him with something approaching pity. The stallion bared his fangs. “You killed my clan! You insult my goddess-- our goddess! You dare to take her place!?”

Second Wind knew there was nothing more he could do. He’d just condemned this pony to death. His hovering slowly stalled until he fell into place by Jachs. They shared a sad glance and a nod. They both understood. They’d tried. Across the room, Aclippe had closed her eyes and cast her gaze downwards.

Chrysalis flicked her hoof. One of the changeling soldiers drew up his lance at the bat pony. “She’s not much of a goddess if she can be beaten by a bunch of mere bugs then, is she?”

He roared in anger, bared his teeth, and launched himself on wing with hoof blades out, aiming dead on at Chrysalis’s throat. He was answered by a thunderous ‘boom’ of the praetorian’s magical energy weaponry slicing him in twain. The heat of the charged shot turned his body to ash. Little specks of ashen bat fell upon Chrysalis. Her nose wrinkled.

She brushed a speck of pony from her nose and winced. “Would anypony else like to test the effectiveness of my guard today?” The other bats, though outnumbering the guard twenty-five to one, shied away and back. “At least the rest of you have some sense. Now get out of my throne room! And someling clean this traitor up.”

The bat ponies were marched unceremoniously out. Simply, out. Away from Chrysalis, out of her sight, and the rat’s own goddess willing they’d march completely out of their uniforms and into tartarus.

“Dumb, flying rat ponies, the lot of them.” Chrysalis rested her cheek in her hoof as she sat back upon her throne. On Celestia’s old throne. “If this is truly the best you can do, Generalmajor, I question the efficacy of the ‘thestral jaegers’ at all.”

Jachs had doffed his cap. The other two had escorted the bat pony volunteers back to wherever hole they’d crawled out of. Chrysalis had begun to dislike bat ponies. “I do apologise. That was an unbecoming display. We should have been more prepared. On behalf of Canterlot, I accept complete fault for--”

“Oh, shut up.” She interrupted him. “Spare me the diplomatic spiel just this once and give me solutions. If you can’t make these thestrals work, I want volunteers that can. ” Shaking her head, she snorted. “Honestly, I expected better of you, Jachs.”

Ever the diplomat and ever affecting the calmest and most reserved tone imaginable, Jachs replied. “I’m…as you said in your letter, we only had a month to get everything in order. It was a mad dash to find suitable candidates. We’re lucky we got as good as we did.”

To his side, Jachs noticed one of the praetorians' ears twitching. Then, a knock on the throne room doors. Alcippe and Second Wind had cleared out to escort the bat ponies, so it was just him and a couple of the Queen’s elite. Mid conversation, the queen absentmindedly waved a hoof in the vague direction of the door in silent command.

The soldier passed jachs as Chrysalis’s ears perked. “Oh so it’s my faul-- wait, letter?”

“Yes.” Jachs’ magic hovered his cap in front of his chest. “We received a letter a month ago exactly, not stamped with the Vesalipolis seal, but your own. You ordered us to have a platoon ready within thirty days or you’d have me tried as a traitor.”

Chrysalis glanced over Jachs shoulder. There was apparently some argument going on beyond the door. Her praetorian was shouting and gesturing very angrily. “I’m certain I would remember making such a declaration. Do you still have the--”

The shouting from her changeling was beginning to carry across the throne room. Annoyance flitted across her brow. She turned to the other guard at her side. “Rah! Tremor, would you remove whatever is happening out there please? I’m having a very important conversation and all this racket is making it very difficult to concentrate!” The black armoured changeling nodded, and slipped down the throne and past Jachs. He slung his lancegun forward and the Generalmajor felt slightly sorry for whoever was beyond those doors

Then, Chrysalis turned back to Jachs and did a small breathing exercise. Breathe in, and then out. Calm. Zen. “Now, my little changeling. Fetch this letter for--”

The Queen’s ear twitched yet again as the shouting from beyond the door grew to a crescendo. She shouted upwards and leapt to her hooves, throwing the colossal doors open with her emerald magic. “What is the meaning of--”

For Jachs, time slowed down.

He saw a flash of steel in a batpony mouthgrip. The lifted lance of a praetorian pinning one down. Another, fighting with two more, asssailed upon by two sets of hoofblades. Three other bat ponies, guns in wings, turned to aim at him. No-- at the Queen behind him. For all her power, right now she was a massive target in front of a machine gun firing line.

He did not think. He did not weigh his options, did not consider saving himself, he simply acted on instinct.

As much as he and Chrysalis had disagreements, every changeling felt this instinctual drive in their very blood. Protect the queen. Secure the hive. Guard the larva. As the wings racked the guns and they fired, Jachs leapt into Chrysalis, putting all his strength into shoving her sideways-- off the throne, interposing his body between her and the bullets.

By some miracle, he’d mustered up enough strength to topple her. Jachs felt her legs give, and she came down onto her side. “Stay down!” He shouted, commanding his queen and disregarding the sacrilege, leaping to his hooves in front of her.

The praetorians, having finally decided to use lethal force, began dispatching their own bat pony assailants. Jachs saw the azure corona of a vaporization behind the trio, and the tell-tale low ‘churr’ of an uncharged lancegun shot. They would not be fast enough to stop them.

Jachs did his best to summon a shield-- he never was good at that spell. His horn glowed dull green. It was taking form. A small bubble in front of him. A half shield. It wasn’t fast enough.

Another burst from three submachine guns. He heard the tell-tale magic ‘crack’ of bullets on a thaumaturgic wall, but it wasn’t enough. Pain split his chest. He looked down and saw blood. He tried to speak-- to tell the queen to run, but all that came out was a pained gurgle. His shield, and he, fell.

Jachs’ body was wracked in agony and blood. He couldn’t speak for the pain, couldn’t move lest he lodge the bullets deeper into his carapace. As the next volley came, Jachs closed his eyes. At least he’d finally get what he deserved.

Then, a slender chitinous hoof stepped into his vision. A green bubble shield, strong enough to rival an alicorn, enveloped him. He’d given Chrysalis enough time. Goddess, by some miracle, he’d given her enough time to put her shield up. He did his job. He tried to look upwards, to crane his neck, but the pain was too much.

So, he looked downwards, at the blood spilling from his chest. Jachs thought it was quite strange how much blood the changeling body could hold. Then, Jachs thought it was funny that that was going to be his final thought. Then, he passed out.

Queen Chrysalis stood in front of three would-be assassins, her love-fueled shield stronger than it’d been even during the first battle of canterlot. She dared the fools to fire-- they did.

The idiot bat ponies let loose on her bulwark, hundreds of bullets splattering harmlessly against her magic. She simply smiled while the praetorians ripped them apart from behind. One brained in painfully with the butt of a lancegun, another vaporized in magical fire.

Except for the final bat pony. That one was hers. She gripped the creature in magic, lifting it by the neck. “Disgusting rat.” It squirmed in her grip, throwing its gun at her shield, kicking uselessly at her with its hind hoof blades. “Yet, not every meal need be gourmet.” It cursed her in a strange bat pony language. Then, she drew its love out.

For Chrysalis, it takes several ponies to safely sate her love craving. Drawing enough to sate her from one pony would be like drinking their soul through a straw. This one? This little assassin, who’d just tried to kill her and very likely killed her best Generalmajor? She was going to make it hurt.

She started slowly. Draining its love-- gently, tender, then just as the little beast got comfortable she latched onto its love and ripped it out like she was starting a fucking lawn mower. The beast cried, it screamed, and then it went silent. It fell, dead in spirit and soon to be body. It wouldn’t get up again until judgement day. She chucked the creature aside and her body felt alight with arcane power.

She breathed strength, tasted raw might. Oh, yes.

“Queen Chrysalis.” She arched an eyeridge as Second Wind stumbled through the door. His uniform was dirty and matted with flecks of blood. “We’re under attack!”

“Truly? I hadn’t noticed.” She stepped over the corpse of one of the bats and pointed to a praetorian. “Escort Jachs to medical. Now.”

“Jachs!” the smaller one, Alcippe, followed soon after Second Wind. She nearly leaped to the Generalmajor’s side. “Oh no-- oh Queen’s Mercy. Is he?” Then- thought better of it, pulling back from the poor bug’s side.

As Tremor slid over to chuck Jachs on to his back, Chrysalis cast a quick healing spell. Something small to staunch the blood flow-- that was all she could do right now. The rest would be in the surgeon’s hooves. “He will live.” Chrysalis turned to the female changeling.

Then, she gripped Alcippe in her magic, and pulled her side-to-side with Second Wing, who had been silently staring at the Generalmajor in the meantime. What loyalty he could inspire among his peers, she silently thought. “For now, both of you focus. I need the situation and I need it now.”

Shaking herself, Alcippe nodded. “We were attacked from two sides. An Equestrian Liberation Front force from the East, and the batpony volunteers from the inside. It was coordinated.”

Second Wind followed. “We were handling the batponies-- we’d diverted the garrison from the walls, but they were planning on that. A stolen changeling tank platoon is leading the charge. They’re heading here right now. We have to get you out of here.”

Chrysalis scoffed. Much to the surprise of Second Wind, who seemed utterly flabbergasted. “And abandon my city?”

The pegasus was quick to respond. “The garrison is under equipped to fight on two fronts at once. We just don’t have enough ponies. It’s only a matter of time before we collapse and you’re in danger, we have to get you out of here! Queen C-- My queen. Please.”

Chrysalis smirked.”My dear little pony. I will forgive you this.” Sickly sweet in tone, she drew up her hoof and hooked it beneath Second Wind’s chin. “You are used to pretty pony princesses, afraid to get their hooves dirty in the trenches. Who command wars from cozy castle meetings behind legions of armoured guards.” Her hoof fell from his chin, and she walked confidently towards the door. “Changelings, kommandant? Changelings lead from the front.”

The throne room doors were thrown open in a great magical fling as Chrysalis strode onto the palace steps and the sound of war greeted her. Down below amongst marble stairs and farther down into the royal quarter proper, garrison troops traded shots with bat pony infiltrators. Those thestrals seemed very interested in trying to kill her changelings until she strode into view. At once, every single one of those stupid flying rats turned their guns on her and fired.

Second Wind leapt into her shield bubble and interspersed himself between the bullets and her. Her shield did not fall. Yet again, hundreds of bullets pelted her magical barrier and she didn’t break a sweat. She glanced down at the funny pegasus pony, wings spread and eyes closed, fully willing to sacrifice himself for her. “That’s cute.” Her voice was barely audible over the violent thaumaturgic sounds of bullets on magic. “I see why you get along so well with Jachs.”

From a bar, a burst of machine gun fire met her would-be assassins. The garrison was using her distraction expertly, pushing up to crush the batponies whilst they focused on her.

Hesitantly, Second Wind peaked an eye open to see her magic not only holding strong-- but not even budging. He suddenly felt strangely embarrassed, lowering his wings sheepishly.

The thestrals never stood a chance. They’d all been focused on her and when that didn’t work, they were reduced to watching her like hawks. They’d all been so absolutely terrified of her the garrison-volunteer counter attack barely took any casualties. The whole operation took less than twenty minutes.

“And so I have defeated an insurgency by simply standing.” Chrysalis’s shield dropped, and Second Wind abashedly stepped from inside it. Alcippe, previously busy with coordinating said counter attack, had trotted up. “Now, the hard part. Oberst?”

Alcippe, panting, began. “The attack from the East has pressed in halfway. The tanks are older models, surplus, but more than our garrison can handle. We lack anti armour weapons-- just the old stuff, panzerfausts. There are two panzerschrecks in our entire armoury.”

“Battlefield layout?” Chrysalis turned and talked as she walked.

“The East wall is built like a hoofshoe. A big ‘U’ shape, with the castle at the open end. They’re advancing aggressively and they’re not stopping.”

“Civilians?”

“The Eastern section was turned to ruin during the second battle of Canterlot. It’s only recently been rebuilt and hasn’t been repopulated yet.”

“That’s why they’re going in from that direction, then. They want to avoid civilian casualties. Collapse the entrance arch. Trap them in.”

Alcippe nodded. She tapped a portable radio upon her lapel, and Chrysalis arched an eyeridge. “And--” continued the queen, “get me one of those.”

Second Wind hauled two massive changeling bazookas onto his back and crawled back into the palace. From the sheer bulk he had to drag one behind him like he was pulling a sled with his teeth. The pegasus managed it, albeit scratching up the royal marble on the way. As he made his way back to the throne room he spotted the temporary command post hastily constructed about the middle. Radios and equipment he didn’t understand, the Queen and her own guard, and Alcippe herself right in the middle.

Panting heavily, he heaved himself beside the group just in time to catch the tail end of the conversation.

“...center of town. They’re likely working alone, but we can’t take the chance of pegasus spotters in the clouds.”

“I agree, Oberst.” That was the Queen’s voice. Second Wind found a big enough plastic table to lean against. “Form any pegasus volunteers into task forces and have them sweep the clouds. Once the air is secured, they will join the garrison on the walls.”

“Ja, meine Königin”

Second Wind stayed politely quiet until addressed, not wanting to arouse the ire of Herself. He did not have to wait long.

Chrysalis spoke in an even voice. “Kommandant.” He bowed his head respectfully. “Attend to your volunteers as you see fit. You’re no longer needed.” There was no dismissal in her tone. She was simply relaying his portion of the plan. Still, it was a bit unpleasant to the pegasus.

A smidgen of the old pegasus pride tried to creep in as he spoke, which he successfully squashed. “What are you going to do?”

“Worried about me, my little pony?” The queen flashed a fangy grin. Second Wind was polite enough not to respond. “Pegasus volunteers will assist the jaegers in sweeping the clouds. Earth pony and regular changeling units will assault the walls, and hold them.” She paused. Dramatic tension was a guilty pleasure of hers, apparently. “While this is happening, I will lead a lance directly into the heart of the enemy.” Her snout jutted upwards proudly.

“What!?” Second Wind nearly choked on his own saliva. “I…I understand you’re powerful, my queen, but this is…needlessly risky. We are trained for this, your volunteers stand ready to repel the E.L.F. You don’t have to put yourself at risk.”

“I’d agree, but I won’t be at risk.” She shrugged with such absurd confidence Second Wind wondered if she thought this was all some sort of game. “If you are worried, Kommandant, join me. March with your queen. Then if I do fall, perhaps you can perform some silly pony tricks to save me.” She snickered quietly, the idea of a pony saving her apparently was too absurd a notion to entertain.

Second Wind met her challenge. “Wouldn’t I get in the way of your guard?”

“My guards are the most experienced and lethal soldiers here. They are better served as task force leaders, spreading their skills around, than staying at my side for the entire battle. I would be alone, besides you.”

Second Wind tapped his hoof against the marble floor. He supposed that meant his volunteers would be led by one of these praetorians and that’s why he wasn’t needed. Well, he wasn’t the type of pony to sit back and let a freaking bug get shot for him. That’d just be embarrassing. “Alright. Consider me your personal guard for the duration of the operation, then.”

An eyeridge arch from Chrysalis met him. “Truly? You continue to surprise me. Perhaps--”

“I should go too.” Alcippe cut in. “With the defense organized and the task forces assigned, I’m not so useful here. I want to be on the front lines.” She trotted up by Chrysalis, checking her pistol and tucking it away into a chest holster.

Now, as far as bugs getting shot in his stead, Alcippe was right on the bottom of ones he’d want that to happen to. “With all due respect, Oberstluetnant, perhaps--”

“Have you ever fired a panzerschreck, Second Wind?”

“No, but--”

“Then I’m going.”

“And you have!?”

Alcippe giggled, surprisingly playfully, for the situation. “I am a trained jaeger, Kommandant. That includes demolitions.”

“No more delaying then.” Chrysalis stood up and stretched, nodding to her guard. Each of the black armoured ‘lings returned a little salute and zipped off to lead their own forces.

Turning to stride beyond the palace doors, she spoke a command over her shoulder. “Fall in.” Second Wind felt his whole body tense.

Hefting one of the bazookas to his back, and Alcippe taking the other in her magic, he felt her flankbump him. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Alcippe hovered the launcher onto her back as she spoke.

Second Wind sighed. “I do. If she got killed out there and I could've stopped it I’ll never be able to live with myself.”

“That shows remarkable integrity, Kommandant Wind.” Alcippe kicked up her pace to a trot to follow nearer the Queen. “Even with how she…”

“I still wouldn’t let her die.” The pegasus tersely snapped. “Sorry. I don’t like to think about myself in that…way. Ugh. Not the time.” He matched her pace, trotting quickly despite the weight on his back.

“Okay.” She turned to softly smile. That classically Alcippe smile that made you feel like everything was going to be okay while at the same time telling you she’d be there to help if it wasn't.

Together, the pair crossed the palace doors and stepped hoof onto a battlefield.

Chrysalis stood atop the palace staircase, her gaze falling onto the embattled Eastern section. She could see the tiny ponies down there, fighting in the streets, just like that desperate Vesalipolis naval invasion so long ago.

Her two little followers, the pegasus and the changeling, fell into step behind her. As far as royal guards went she’d seen better but she knew well what they said about beggars and choosers. Her hoof found the tiny radio sized for a changeling drone upon her lapel and she began to speak.
.
“Wackere Soldaten eines entspringenden Reiches! Ich richte mein Wort an euch als euer-”

“Queen Chrysalis?” The Queen’s snout wrinkled. “Uh, most volunteers here don’t speak Changeling. They probably wouldn’t be able to understand you.” Second Wind quietly reasoned.

Stupid ponies and stupid Ponish. Chrysalis cleared her throat again.

“Brave soldiers of a nascent empire, I speak to you today not as Queen! No, not Empress! As changeling alone.”

Second Wind cast a glance down the ramp. The combined garrison-volunteers had begun to notice. A few were looking up at her. More were checking their own radios.

“As I stand beside you today, know that you fight with an equal. As I lead this action, know that she is proud of all of you! You brave soldiers, changeling and ponies all! All who would stand in defense of your Queendom with your brothers and sisters in arms!”

A few heads down the ramp nodded. Second Wind saw a couple smiles. Alcippe had tilted her head upwards in what looked like prayer and pride at once.

“Soldiers. Comrades. Friends. Families. Today, all count on you. Remember them and rally to me! Route this insurrectionist filth and by my honor I’ll see you all rewarded! No retreat, no hesitation, no mercy! For the Queendom!”

Somepony down below fired off a shot into the air as they readied themselves, before it looked like he was quickly reprimanded by the overseeing praetorian. Second Wind had to smile. Hell, he was starting to get into it too.

“How’d I do?” Chrysalis queried casually, giving her extending insectoid wings a little stretch.

“Not too bad.” Second Wind’s own extended as he took his place next to her.

“I thought it was pretty good.” Alcippe slipped into place at the other side of her. Still, she wore a grin so wide Second Wind worried it might break her mouth. Patriotism, it seemed, was ingrained in every bug.

Letting out a little sigh, Chrysalis’s hoof found the tiny button upon her radio once more. “By Queen’s Command, commence Operation Lancer!” The ponies down below began to quickly trot off to the side. They’d be taking the South, the pegasi and jaegers the clouds, and the garrison the North. She had the very center.

“Fall in and keep one another safe. We’ll proceed cautiously and move slowly. We outnumber if not outgun them, so we can wear them down. Make them waste their ammunition and supplies.”

“Ja, meine Königin”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Fires started in the skies and Chrysalis glanced upwards. Volunteers exchanging gunfire with the pegasi rebels in the clouds. The gunshots and bombs lit the clouds like tiny booms of thunder and cracks of lightning.

“That’s our cue.” Chrysalis leapt forward, and bade her tag-alongs to follow. They did so, the pair of smaller equines landing to her side, tucked beneath a building. She herself sat square in the middle of a street. Across from them, a squad of E.L.F. soldiers nearly stumbled upon seeing her. She grinned as they opened fire.

“Is that all!?” Chrysalis’s voice boomed as a plethora of earth pony battle saddles and unicorn-hovered guns met her iron-wall of a magical shield. She grinned like mad, returning fire with a few uncharged horn blasts, nailing one unlucky bastard and sending the rest scrambling for cover.

Chrysalis inhaled. The scent of gunsmoke and rubble met her sinuses and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Oh, she missed this.

But the cretins had called for backup.

Down the street, a light tank swerved around and held her in its sights. Older model, one of the first types deployed. Her grin only widened. She braced her chitinous hooves in the cobble streets and pawed at it like a minotaur about to charge. She dared the smoke belching monster to meet her.

With a 20mm gun, it answered. The shot rang out across the street in a deep ‘boom’ as it hit home against the queen’s shield. The sheer force shoved her back a foot, and nothing else. After the smoke dissipated, she still stood-- shield up, and her own horn charging to meet the tank.

The driver, apparently realising his error, had begun to quickly back up. Chrysalis wasn’t going to let such impudence go unanswered. The fool running away only served to fuel her manic glee as she imagined the sheer terror those silly ponies must be feeling.

A thaumaturgic boom returned the mechanical one as Chrysalis horn shot off a blazing emerald lance of energy, lighting the street in green fire and meeting the tank head on. Her aim was off-- it blasted the turret clear from the chassis, so she guided the lance downward to cleave the tank clean in two. It fell, metal burning hot red as it collapsed in on itself. Chrysalis smiled like a filly in a candy store.

“Holy shit.” Second Wind cradled his bazooka, leaning out from his cover behind the ruined building. He’d been ready to assist but it seemed like she didn’t need it. “Why didn’t we do that…?”

His question, asked quietly, had been more to himself but Aclippe had overheard. “What do you mean?” Covering behind the building, she had her own panzerschreck angled Southwards, ready to meet the flanking tank she knew had to be coming at this point.

“We had like-- what, four alicorns? And they could all do that? Why didn’t they ever…why didn’t we ever…you know?”

“You’re asking me?” Alcippe arched an eyeridge. “I always thought they made a vow of pacifism or something.”

Then, Alcippe heard it. The rumbling of an engine and the movement of treads. “Oh, look alive, got one.”

Second Wind was quick to jump down beside her. “Let’s see-- loaded, yes. Check. Safety. Backblast clear. Uh, I think we’re all good here right?” He laid his own rocket launcher next to Alcippe’s own. “Right?”

“Yes. Don’t fire unless I miss.” The changeling leaned on the cold metal tube. “I haven’t used one of these since training…so, maybe pray a little too.”

The tank’s engine grew louder and Second Wind felt a very earth pony-like urge to burrow a trench. “Praying.” He answered nervously, his hoof finding the rocket’s trigger. He gulped.

The dull gray of changeling armour rounded the corner and sat its sights on them. Panzer II. Lightly armoured. Second Wind felt fear grip him by the wings, but he shook it off. He exhaled. He feathered the trigger. Alcippe fired.

The rocket tore through the air and landed a solid hit in the tread. The blast immobilized it, but it still had a working turret. “Shit!” Aclippe cursed, but Second Wind was prepared. He changed his aim to the fresh hole the Oberst’s rocket had opened up and fired. With a loud ‘thoomf’ his own slammed home, piercing the bug tank’s carapace and exploding from within. It did little visible damage to the outside, but the crew inside were not, so to speak, in any condition to operate it.

“Direct hit! Good shot Kommandant!” Alcippe nearly cheered.

Then, the tank’s escort rounded the corner. A burst of machine gun fire met the pair as Second Wind wing-wrapped Alcippe and almost threw her in front of the burning wreck of a tank. He followed soon after, drawing up his own gun.

“There’s no cover out here, this is a bad position!” He shouted, falling onto the other side of the tank.

“Just hold! Stay down. The Southern team should--” as planned, an explosion rocked the wall up above. Second Wind chanced a glance upward to see his volunteers blowing open a blocked door and rapidly spilling out onto the walls. They’d taken the high ground.

Growling, he snickered. “Celestia, they got a sense for timing.” As the first few shots of volunteer rifles met the E.L.F. soldiers surrounding them. Some unlucky E.L.F. soldier got vaporized by a lancegun. Second Wind chanced a peek under the tank to see a few old Equestrian uniforms bloodied and fallen on the ground-- and felt a pang of sadness, which he quickly squashed. Not the time.

“We’re clear.” is all he said, giving the ponies up on the wall a thankful wave. One of them returned it and then they went back to their job.

Two down. Two to go.

Second Wind crouched down under the watchful protection of the burning changeling tank, panting hard. Just in time to see another greenish blast from the Queen’s horn and a distant explosion he’d come to associate with changeling tanks blowing up. Make that three down.

A few barked updates came through Alcippe’s radio. She quietly tapped it in acknowledgement. The pair simply panted together, catching their breath, as Chrysalis buzzed down in front of them.

“Sitrep, Oberst.” Chrysalis stood proud in front of the pair, her horn still glowing with dulling emerald flame.

“North and South fronts are secured. We haven’t found the heavy yet. And the pegasi volunteers are unable to secure the clouds.”

“Hm.” Chrysalis pondered. “As long as they keep the enemy from shooting down at us that’s good enough.”

The Queen’s hoof found her own radio and she cleared her throat. “All teams, the operation is proceeding smoothly. We have secured a hoofhold and halted their advance. One final effort is all that remains. Fix your bayonets and route these invaders!”

Quietly, Second Wind marvelled at the word ‘invaders’ to describe Equestrian army divisions assaulting Canterlot, but he kept that to himself.

“Ah, it seems the enemy has answered my challenge.” Chrysalis smirked as she glanced over her shoulder. A tiger one had rolled into view, hastily spray painted over with Equestrian flags. “This will be swift.”

She leapt from the cowering equines and simply strolled into the tank’s view, casual as she could. Like taking a walk in Canterlot’s gardens. She strolled right into view of the beast’s main cannon, and smirked, charging up her horn.

Second Wind and Alcippe took their previous position behind the ruined building, just in case. The pegasus peeked out to watch the show. But, something was wrong. It wasn’t firing yet. Second Wind looked at Chrysalis who was wearing a psychopathic grin. She didn’t seem to notice.

The kommandant squinted, looking closer at the main gun. It was subtle, but he could see a little refraction around the cannon. Like heat flowing from asphalt on a hot day. It seemed magical in a way. Like a unicorn’s horn charging.

Like Chrysalis’s horn charging.

Realization struck him like a lightning bolt. “It’s a spellray cannon!” He shouted, leaping back just in time to see Chrysalis’s shield take a flaming pink magical lance of fire not unlike her own.

Chrysalis had, for the first time since the battle started, felt fear. Thanks to Second Wind’s shout, she’d just in time cut off her charging horn and slammed every bit of love she had into her shield. The heat of the spellray burned into her like Celestia’s scorching sun. Her shield held, but she was being pushed back. It was a laser, burning her off like a particularly psychopathic filly would do to an ant. Back and back she was pushed as sweat beaded from her brow. Her shield held. Just a little longer. Then, she slammed into the back of the castle wall, and her balance was thrown off.

The shield collapsed. Burning equestrian magic lit her carapace up in flame if only momentarily. Her thaumaturgic wall had held long enough she only caught the tail end of the magical laser. But she was drained of love. Exhausted. She fell with it, her body limp on the pony cobblestone streets.

“Shit!” Second Wind slammed his hoof into the cobbles and threw his head around. Had any of the changelings noticed? Any of those black armoured super soldier bugs? No? Of course not. It had to be him.

“It’s recharging its gun. We have to move now.” Alcippe’s words were in his ear, but Second Wind was already taking flight. The Oberst followed soon after. Machine gun fire from its coaxial lit up the dirt around him as he dropped onto Chrysalis.

“Queen Chrysalis!” He shouted, gunfire throwing up clouds of dust around him. Alcippe cast a telekinetic spell into the rubble to throw up some dirt as a makeshift smoke cloud, for what little good that did. “Chrysalis!” Second wind shouted. This seemed to snap her out of her stupor. She blinked, her eyes meeting his, her fangs bared in humiliation. Gunfire slammed into the stones above her. They were sitting ducks. Eventually that gun would hit them. There was only one way.

“Take whatever you need.”

That was all the queen needed to hear. Her eyes lit up in emerald glow, and Second Wind felt his life dull. His love was drawn out, painfully and quickly, and he shut his eyes and braced his teeth. He felt cold. Like he was dying. Bleeding out on the ground. Then, he and Alcippe, were gripped in a great magical force, and teleported.

Second Wind fell upon the ground, crossing his forehooves over himself protectively, as if his fores might stave off the deathly chill and emptiness the queen had left within him. He fell into a ball, wrapping his wings around himself, shivering.

Alcippe was quick to leap at him. “Hey, hey!” she sat by his side, resting hoof on his haunch. “You’re okay! You’re okay. Second Wind look at me. Look at me!”

From staring at the sky, the kommandant did as he was commanded. He met Alcippe’s eyes. Purple and deep, lacking pupils. Bug eyes, he’d called them in the past. In that moment they made him feel so safe. Anything other than the queen.

“You’re okay.” She petted her hoof along his mane comfortingly. “You’re okay.” The repeated words began to take root in the pegasus’ mind. His shivering began to calm. He felt tension in his chest again-- not pleasant but, Celestia anything other than that damn cold.

Embarrassingly, he wrapped his fores around her own and held it to his chest. As if feeling her chitin against his heartbeat would help remind him he was still alive. “I’m…okay?” He panted, shaking his head to clear the dull fuzz that crept into it.

“You’re okay.” Alcippe repeated, gently. Gunshots sounded around them. Somepony from atop the wall launched a panzerfaust, doing little to the tank’s armour, but diverting its attention. Second Wind quietly thanked whoever did that.

Queen Chrysalis had never done that before. Oh, sure, she’d ripped the love out of ponies she hated. It felt good doing that. Giving them their just desserts in a way that nourished her at the same time. Like a great cosmic correction. But…this?

She’d never done it to somepony she liked before. It felt bad. It made her feel bad. Looking at this made her feel…bad.

“I’m--” she started to say something, but she didn’t know what she wanted to say. She felt like she had to say something here, but…what?

To hell with this. She’d deal with it later. For now, her hoof found her radio, and she barked an order. “Tremor, to me.”

The changeling was swift. He dodged cannon fire to meet her, buzzing down swiftly from his position atop the walls. “My queen-- what happened? You’re…” She approached him with hunger in her eyes. Tremor knew what this meant. He surrendered immediately, letting his lance fall to the earth gently so as not to damage it, and closed his eyes.

Chrysalis hefted the changeling up, eyes glowing an emerald flame, and drew every drop of love in him out. It only took a second, and she dropped him, his body falling limp against the cobbles.

Second Wind’s eyes widened in fear. “Did…did you just…?”

“They are trained to be emergency reserves for me. He will be fine, just unconscious.” The queen shivered, feeling that delightful tingle of power in her horn once more.

“Oh…” Second Wind tried to stand, but his hooves faltered him. Shaky, Aclippe had to let him rest against her. “I…I can draw its fire while you--”

“You will sit right here. That’s an order.” Just like that, Chrysalis cast another quick teleport. She was gone. Second Wind crumpled back to the dirt.

“Kommandant!” Alcippe grabbed him in her magic. It was all she could do to keep him from toppling but even that wasn’t enough. All the strength had left the pegasus and he fell once more.

“She’s…kind of scary isn’t she?” He laughed, shivering on the ground. From the shifting sounds of gunfire, the frontline had moved beyond them.

Alcippe sat with him, then. It was all she could do. “Yeah.”

When Queen Chrysalis had begun this operation it was a matter of business. Sure, she was a little miffed they’d tried to kill her in the middle of the former Equestrian capital, but that was just a regular Tuesday for a love queen. Now, she was legitimately, royally pissed.

Her hoof found the radio on her lapel again. “That heavy tank holds their commander. I have it here. Southern and Northern teams converge on my location. Kill everypony between you and me.” Her voice was an icy chill. If her fury was fire, her truest anger was as cold as the grave.

Round two.

Chrysalis teleported from rooftop to rooftop, following the betracked monster’s path. It was turning to face their Southern flank, to break their envelopment. She began to charge her horn. She wouldn’t underestimate it this time.

She shot a blast down at it. Enough to have scorched the turret, burned a little bit of an Equestrian flag away, and got its attention. It turned to scan the rooftops with its gun, looking for her. Idiots. Her ear twitched. The sound of gunfire closing in. Soon enough, her forces would have this bastard.

It found her. It began to charge its main turret, the coaxial letting loose a spray of machine gun fire in her direction. Her shield was enough to dissuade the secondary gun. It spattered harmlessly against her thaumaturgic wall. It was the charging main cannon she was worried about, but she’d learned.

Right before it fired she teleported to the other side of the street, atop an entirely different building. It lanced a magical laser upwards into the sky, well clear of her. Then, she noticed something peculiar. It didn’t turn the turret to follow her after it fired. What a silly little oversight. Now she knew why that gun never got out of the prototype stage.

Oh, but it was still active, and it seemed they had ammo to spare. After the cannon finished, it turned again to find her and once more began to charge. Testing, Chrysalis stepped to and fro along the rooftop, watching the cannon follow her all the while. Ah, so it was just when it fired it couldn’t move?

Chrysalis imagined the ponies in there. So angry, so infuriated at her. ‘Just face us like a mare!’ She almost giggled. The air seemed to crumble inwards around the cannon and it fired at her again.

Chrysalis teleported right behind the tank. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. No infantry escort? See, this is why you idiots should leave tanks to us.” She jeered at the unfeeling metal. The queen braced her forehooves on the rear panels, and while the tank was locked into place firing at where she used to be, Chrysalis charged up her horn and fired point blank into its rear.

Not an explosive shot. A very small, very precise, very powerful laser came from her horn. She cut a hole into the metal beast. Very small, barely big enough for a mouse to crawl through. Taking a form that small and complex would require quite a bit of love. Luckily, thanks to Tremor, she had a lot to spare.

“Reload, dammit! We have to kill that bitch now we’re never getting this chance again! We need to find her again, tell me where she is.”

“I don’t know-- she’s doing unicorn teleportation. I hate magic!”

“Find her! Ugh! We almost had her.”

They were so angry. Oh, anger makes ponies so stupid. None of them noticed the tiny mouse clambering into the rear of the tank. None of them noticed until that mouse was no longer a mouse, and blazing green flame surrounded the full form of the changeling queen, lighting up the interior of the tank.

“My,” said the queen. “It is cramped in here.”

The image of the four ponies in various states of shock and fear. and in one case utter terror, would remain with Chrysalis forever.

The changeling queen opened the tank’s hatch and clambered from it. She checked her hoof. A little bit of blood. She wiped it off on the Equestrian flag flowing sadly in the wind, the only remnant of the ponies here.

She smiled and tapped her radio. “I have eliminated the enemy commander. Broadcast this message on all channels: Equestrian Liberation Front forces, your commander is dead, your allies are routed. We are closing in on you from all sides. Surrender, and your deaths will be qui-”

She stopped herself, her hoof dropping from the radio. She remembered Second Wind. She recalled Jachs’ words. How one catches more flies with honey than vinegar. She recalled too, how it seemed to work. She recalled the loyalty of the pony volunteers in this operation. She recalled the…loyalty of one specific volunteer. She didn’t want to make him execute surrendered soldiers as a thank you for his service.

These stupid ponies were starting to infest her brain now too. Damn you, Jachs…

She feathered the radio again. “That is to say, Surrender, and you will be treated as prisoners of war in full accordance with the rules of war. On my honor.” Her hoof fell to the top of the tank and Chrysalis let out a long sigh.

The battle, though history would remember it as only a minor skirmish, would be one Chrysalis would never forget.

She’d made good on her word. The E.L.F. forces that surrendered were given due process as prisoners of war. Not terrorists. Not executed on the spot. Many would say that in and of itself was a big step for her.

“Mrmp?” Jachs made an incredibly non-changeling sound as he roused from his slumber. He ran his hoof across his chest. Three holes. Queen’s Mercy, it hurt. He could barely move. Looking around, he recognized the medical post in the castle for officers. Not often frequented. Where’s the nurse…?

“Generalmajor!” Ah there she is. Sitting at a counter toying with a pencil. “S-stay down. I am under strict orders.” She picked up a phone, wavering her hoof at him. “Please, don’t try to move-- Ma’am. Yes. He’s awake. In extreme pain, but. Yes ma’am. Yes ma’am.” The phone clinked back down and the nurse rushed over to him.

Jachs could only move his eyes without sending shots of white-hot pain through his body. “Where’s every--”

“Be still!” She shouted, louder this time. Jachs recognized the tone. He took that when disciplining a youthful fool. So, Jachs was still.

“Easy, now. You were shot five times. One graze. One nipped your ear.” Jachs’ ear twitched. He thought he could feel cool air against places on his exoskeletal ear he’d never felt before. He didn’t like it. “Three more here,” the changeling nurse gently pressed her hoof to his chest. Jachs winced.

“What’s the damage?”

“One in the lung. One in the stomach. One didn’t hit anything vital and went clean through.”

The Generalmajor gulped. The evidence of one’s own mortality has a way of softening one up. “How…am I alive?”

“You are very lucky is how.” She preened. “Someling at the scene cast a healing spell. If it weren’t for that, you’d have bled out thrice over before you got back here.”

Jachs’ hoof fell upon his chest. He breathed in and out. Slowly and softly. “That’s terrifying. Uh-- would you fetch my fr-- my Oberst, and Kommandant please? I would like to...see them.”

“Not yet I’m afraid,” she apologetically shrugged. “The Queen has given me strict orders. No one is to see you before her.”

“Chrysalis?” Jachs asked, as if there were any others who’d make the trip out here. “Why?”

His answer came in the form of a slender chitin hoof stepping around the corner.

“My Queen!” The nurse quickly leapt up to bow. “As your ordered, he--”

“Leave us.” Chrysalis’s voice was even.

“Right away!” The nurse nearly sprinted past a praetorian flanking the queen, whom Chrysalis summarily dismissed with a hoof as well.

“How lucid are you?” The changeling queen sat by Jachs’ side. Her sheer size meant she didn’t need a chair to be at eye level with him.

Jachs tried to stand to salute, only for the pain to push him back down. “Been better.” He choked out. “Think I’m good enough though. What’s going on? Is everyling…okay?”

“Your officers are fine and-- and I need to say something.”

Jachs felt a strange tension in the room. Like how one feels before taking wing. “Something…?”

Chrysalis cleared her throat. Her forehooves tapped nervously into the wooden clinic floor, a bit like a filly at the dentist for the first time. “Do you know who I am?” She finally asked.

“Y-yes, you’re her majesty, Qu--”

“Good. So you know I don’t usually do this.”

“...This?”

Jachs swore he could see sweat on the Queen’s brow as she braced her fangs together in a grimace. “I have campaigned in the changeling lands for years. I unified the great hives and brought disparate changelings together towards a common goal. I have been called ‘The Great Unifier, The Queen Of Queens, The Great Conqueror.

“Doing so required a certain attitude. One that takes no quarter. Pushes forward without stopping. Aggression, relentless. Like the blitz we are so famed for. From an early age, one thing I learned was that a Queen never takes a step back. She never retreats, surrenders, or admits folly. She should never apologize.

“...and yet.” Chrysalis let out a long, arduous sigh. “I pushed you hard for the thestral jaegers. I demanded it. Forced it of you. It was because of me that we…opened Canterlot to an attack. It was my fault that you were hurt, defending me from the consequences of my own idiocy.”

Chrysalis brought a hoof up to her eye, rubbing something out of it Jachs might have imagined were a tear. But for Herself? Not a chance in Tartarus.

“Now. I’m going to preface this by saying that if you ever repeat anything I say here, I am going to deny it and have you declared insane.” The Queen’s hooves fell to the ground again. She intook a breath, her voice wavering.

“I am sorry, Jachs.”

Jachs felt like he’d been hit by a truck. In all his years, he’d never known-- he’d never believed that something like this could--his mouth hung open. He wanted to respond but he had no idea what to say. He was well and truly rendered speechless.

Luckily he didn’t have long to ponder it. Coming up from her fugue, Chrysalis’s magic had reached into her saddlebag-- which he now noticed she was wearing, and withdrawn a small paper, bound with the Vesalipolis…no. With Chrysalis’s own seal.

“That letter you received was obviously a forgery. This one is real.” She levitated the paper over to him and let it fall upon his chest. “It’s also blank. Acta non verba. If you put as much stock in actions over words as I, you should know a simple apology would never cut it. So, here I give you some of the same paper I use to write decrees. There are three like it in the entire world. One is on my desk at the Queen's Tower, another on Hivesmarshall Trimmel's. This one used to be on my airship's desk and now you have it. Do take care of it.”

Using her magic, she opened it, letting the parchment flow upon Jachs’ chest. It was indeed blank. “Write whatever you want in this space and deliver it to me personally. If it is within my power, I will grant it. Don’t rush it, of course. Anything I can give. Several year early retirements, vast sums of money, manor houses, land…something more esoteric? If you can think of it.” She chuckled. "It is the promise of my debt to you. I do not make a habit of incurring debts."

The changeling stared dumbstruck at the paper. It was like being handed the keys to a bank vault. “It is…an amazing honor, my queen. I am…I don’t know what to say.” Jachs’ own magic recurled the paper. He held it tightly to his chest.

“Well, it comes with some bad news.”

Jachs’ ears drooped.

“With you out of commission, I believe I shall take over administering the realm until your recovery.”

The Generalmajor’s eyes widened. “I-- uh, that’s. No I’m quite capable of--” He tried to stand, but again the pain shot through him. He fell back, baring his fangs. “That’s…really, not…I’m sure Alcippe could--”

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t do anything to disrupt your weird little ‘ponytopia’” Chrysalis spat the word. “I’ve already admitted it works, didn’t I?”

Maybe not in so many words, but Chrysalis did put him somewhat at ease. Perhaps she really was…?

Well, he supposed he’d see. For now, he still had some questions. “What exactly happened while I was out?”

Shaking her head, Chrysalis beamed. “Now, that, my little changeling? That is one hell of a story.”

Author's Note

You ever sit down and write and write and then you're writing and you're still writing?
Well, I hope the extra length makes up for the wait.

As always, comments inject dopamine directly into my brain and give me reasons to keep writing.

Canterlot At Night

Queen Chrysalis stood in the seldom travelled officer’s infirmary. She slowly paced around Generalmajor Jachs’ bed. In a greenish magical grip, she held a clipboard with a very thick packet of papers trapped beneath its clip.

Of course, even when wounded he’d still found a way to work. Across a tiny bed-portable table lay a spread of logistics reports, movement reports, supply reports and other things that Chrysalis’s eyes went cross to even imagine.

“As you can see,” The generalmajor started, hooves crossed over the small bed table he had beneath his chin, “With the recent events, I do believe strengthening the Canterlot Garrison is necessary. If the E.L.F. were bold enough to launch a raid while you were here, then when you leave such a battle is almost certain to happen again.”

Chrysalis stopped her pacing and flipped one of the papers up, nose scrunching in thought. “And you think this is necessary? This is a bit beyond ‘strengthening’”

“I do.” Jachs hovered over a spoonful of soup and sipped gingerly from it. Being injured wasn’t so bad when one got used to the warm food and soft bed every single night. “Cards on the table? If that were to happen again and you weren’t here I’m not sure we’d be able to repel them. The extra soldiers would go a very long way.”

“It’s not the soldiers that surprise me.” Chrysalis quickly retorted. She’d taken to colonizing the bed nearest Jachs’ own during her little visits. This was no different. Like a plush throne she laid upon one, hind hooves dangling over the bottom like an adult in a child’s crib. Her head rested upon the headboard, horn against the wall.

“What really gets me is the hardware,” she emphasized. “Modern automatic rifles. Advanced magical weaponry. Impulse carbines, really? If that weren’t enough,” her horn lit up as she dragged one of the pages up. “Armoured cars, infantry half tracks and…a platoon of prototype main battle tanks.” She let the page fall, the soft ‘thoomp’ into clipboard punctuating her words. “How did you get Carapace to agree to that?”

Jachs shrugged casually. “I actually know the C.E.O. We agreed to a...er, a trade of favours.”

Chrysalis settled the clipboard to her side, crossing her fores as she stared at the ceiling. “But one thing really stuck out to me. See, you asked for soldiers seemingly randomly. Mountaineers, an infiltrator regiment assigned to a mechanized division, a couple changelings from the garrison in Baltimare? So, I dug around a little. Tried to find what thread linked these seemingly random choices…”

She’d picked up the clipboard again, waving it around in her magic like it was a wand about to cast a spell. She pointed it at the blank wall in triumph. “Turns out, they were all in the ninth jaeger division, all the way back at the start of the war. And what an interesting division this was, see?”

Chrysalis hopped up again, trotting around the room excitedly. “A fine division by all counts. Performed exceptionally in combat. Dropped in behind Vanhoover, moved to secure it while the army pushed the line. In combination with the third armoured division, pinned and encircled Equestrian units on the border. Entire unit commended. They continued to serve with distinction throughout the war except, mind.” Her hoof wavered in front of Jachs’ face. “Seventeen disciplinary actions for ‘lackadaisical treatment of P.O.W.s’. During a write up, one officer said they were a ‘group of thoraxians pretending to be jaegers.’ and recommended immediately disbanding and trying them as traitors. Overruled, due to an otherwise exceptional service record.”

Chrysalis had stopped in front of Jachs’ bed. She leapt up and planted her forehooves on the hoofboard, making her look even larger as she loomed over the other changeling. “And how interesting is it, Jachs, that you were originally in that exact same division?”

There went that plan. Jachs’ ears twitched and he brought a forehoof up to rest on his cheek. “Found me out, huh.” In defeat, he rubbed that fore on his temple. He could almost sense the ‘disciplining’ what was coming. He braced.

But, it never came. Instead, Chrysalis smiled and leapt from the bed, throwing her mane in pride. She’d leant back on her hind legs in a surrendering pose, hooves lifted by her face, turned upwards. “But I approve. This works out for me both ways, you know?”

The queen picked up the clipboard once more and began to write. “See, if the Canterlot experiment crashes and burns, you will come to me and beg my forgiveness and lay into me with apologies. ‘Oh, my queen, you were right. The ponies took advantage of me! Oh, please send your army to save Canterlot.’ Then, your entire way of thinking will be proven wrong.”

With that, she handed it back to Jachs. The Generalmajor took it in his own magic, hovering it over onto the table. He beheld the Queen’s signature on the very last page. “And if I’m right?”

Smirking, Chrysalis happily replied. “If you’re right, however unlikely, the ponies will remember that it was the benevolence of their true queen who gave them such a wonderful home in Canterlot. My position as their single monarch will be all but secured.” She laughed heartily. “I only play these political games when I can’t lose, Jachs.”

The Generalmajor leaned over the table, eyes closed and forehooves pressed to one another, like a triangle, in thought. “I suppose that’s fair enough.”

“Capital!” Chrysalis beamed. “Although, just between you and me? I am honestly rooting for you.”

“Rooting for me?” Jachs had to chuckle. “Really?”

“Of course. It’s…uh?” Chrysalis’s hoof lifted and she wavered it about, like a napkin flitting in the breeze, noncommittal. “It’s quite novel, I suppose. Other commissariats show me legions of changeling soldiers and a subdued populace, but I come here and you show me hayburgers and theater plays. Isn’t that absurd? I…suppose I find the uniqueness here kind of comely. In a way.” Chrysalis bore her fangs in momentary anger at herself. She’d realized she’d been dottering, for whatever reason. As if she felt the need to explain herself to Jachs. That wasn’t right. She was a queen, she had no need to explain herself to anyone.

“Well, whatever. I have work to do. Rest well.”

Just like that, she turned on her hooves and stormed out of the infirmary, leaving Jachs alone with his thoughts, and a very thick packet of requisitions. He looked again at her signature. A cautious grin crept across his snout.

A victory is a victory, he supposed.

Chrysalis assumed the throne as though it were her birthright. With as casual and confident a strut as she may. She cast her gaze out to the pony petitioners. There were few tonight. Her reputation had the lovely side effect of scaring away some of the dumber ponies with particularly inane asks. Some.

She cast her gaze around and arched an eyeridge. “Where’s Second Wind?”

Alcippe had taken the Advisor Inkwell's place at the side of the reigning Monarch, standing one ring below Chrysalis’s own. She bit the inside of her lip. “He has requested the day off, citing illness.”

“Again?” Chrysalis’s snout wrinkled. “That’s the fifth day.” She thrummed her hoof into the carpeted floor in thought. She’d need to have a talk with him about this eventually. As much as she felt she was in the right doing what she did, it probably hurt that little pony quite a lot. Chrysalis really didn’t want to make another apology but if she had to…

Alcippe didn’t seem to have a reply so the queen continued. “What, perchance, do the perfidious ponies approach to parlay tonight, please, oberstleutnant?” The queen of the changelings hovered a glass of red wine to her lips. She sloshed the liquid to and fro, inspecting the way it clung to the glass, and gingerly sipped upon it like a society mare at a fancy party.

It tasted horrible, of course, but it was about the image projected to any ponies in attendance.

Alcippe cleared her throat. “Houses Noel and Dusk are at odds again. The issue could not be settled in the lower courts, so you are called upon to mediate.”

Chrysalis' voice betrayed a hint of nervousness.“ The way you phrased that sounds like it is common.”

“It is.” The Oberstleutnant replied. “Noel Frost and Shining Dusk are often at one another’s throats. They live beside one another in the royal quarter. Today, the issue is about where exactly one ponies’ land ends and another begins.”

Chrysalis stretched her forehooves skyward. “Very well.” If Celestia could mediate this rabble, she knew she could do it too. “Send them in.”

Four hours later and two glasses of wine downed completely she’d not made any headway.

Noel Frost was a plump pony. Chrysalis didn’t know a pegasus could get that round and still fly. He had a blue coat and white mane. “As stated previously by my counsel, and the land grant signed by Celestia herself, my land extends into Ms. Dusk’s own! She has no right to claim ownership of the constructions inside it!”

Shining Dusk looked normal, thank Herself. A brown coat and thick brown mane. Still, Queen’s mercy, did she have a grating and nasally voice. “As I’ve told you a hundred times, Frosty, that grant was invalidated by the occupation, who signed their own land grants. The new one clearly states the construction is on my side of the land border. Therefore, I demand Noel Frost immediately relinquish all claims to it at once! In addition, I want damages for intentional infliction of emotional distress! And I want him to pay my legal fees!"

“Oh come off it, twerp.” The plump pony shot back. “You aren’t getting a bit from me, you weird little mud pony. I demand she be held in contempt for that outburst.”

“Contempt? You should be held in contempt you fat turkey! I’ll have you--”

This is all they said, back and forth, for hours. Chrysalis had fallen into the habit of letting her head ‘thunk’ quietly into the back of the throne, just because the pain gave her something else to focus on. Maybe she would have been better off if those bat ponies killed her.

“Fillies and gentlecolts,” Chrysalis put on her best ‘Jachs’ voice, diplomatic and even. “There’s no need for name calling. I’m sure we can find an amicable solution to--”

Noel Frost slammed his forehooves into his podium. “Turkey!? That’s offensive. I want that added to the court record. My opponent denigrates pegasi!”

“Wuh-- me!? You started it! You called me a mud pony you--”

Chrysalis slammed her hoof into the cold marble and let out a long exhaustive sigh. “Please. Let us not be unpleasant. This is hour four of this session and I’m still not sure what you’re even fighting over. What’s so important a building that both of you need it?”

“The fence.” Noel proudly proclaimed. “Right now, it’s white and matches my home. She wants to paint it green to match hers.”

Dusk snobbishly jutted her snout upwards. “Yeah, it’s super ugly. I need to have it repainted. I can’t do that because he claims it’s his. Wrongly, I add.”

Chrysalis blinked. “Are you kidding me? How many of the lower courts have you gone through?”

Noel bowed his head. “All of them, your majesty. That’s why we’re here.”

“Yeah, duh. Why else would we be?” Dusk snickered.

Chrysalis felt her teeth start to grind. “All of this…this bickering, this arguing, this name calling? These legal threats, forcing me to pay attention to this unimportant crypony whining…for a fence?”

“Hmph! I beg your pardon?” Noel snootily jutted his snout upwards in a pose Chrysalis was rapidly growing tired of. “I am Canterlonian nobility. All of my problems are important.”

“Tch-- yeah?” Dusk flicked an ear. “Do you get to the royal quarter very often? Oh, what am I saying? Of course you don’t. ”

Chrysalis did not like that tone. It was like somepony had walked up to Chrysalis, drew their hoof back, and slapped her in the face with all the force they could master. She stared between the warring nobles, her eyes boring a hole into the ground.

Queen Chrysalis, though she no longer really hated all ponies, she really really hated these ponies. “And there’s really no way to peacefully resolve this?” The furious shouts and barks that started answered her well enough.

“I’ve decided I’m going to have you both executed.”

“What!?” Both of the little noble whiners screamed in unison. Fear shot through both ponies. They scrambled in apology. Both of them threw themselves to the ground.

“Please I- I am sorry! I wasted your time. It’s no problem! I don’t even want the fence, really!”

“No-no it’s okay! I don’t even care that much! It’s okay, Noel can have it! I’ll just… build another one!”

Chrysalis sipped slowly from the bitter pony wine and smiled. The third glass of the night wasn’t as rank as the first. She let them debase themselves a bit longer. Begging and pleading and offering larger sums of bits and land and fighting each other for the right to kiss her hooves. Through it all, Chrysalis said nothing, but smiled and sipped her wine until the glass was finally empty.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.”

Both ponies showered her with praises and thank you’s and ‘benevolent leaders’es. “But,” Chrysalis added, voice melodic and soft. “If I hear another word about this fence…” Nothing more needed to be said. She was met with a chorus of ‘thank yous’ as both ponies quickly beat-hoof out of the throne room.

Alcippe curiously arched an eyeridge. “I guess that’s one way to deal with them.”

“Finesse is for the young and the cocky.” Chrysalis hovered her glass over and Alcippe took it. “I don’t know how you do this. Five days and I’m already considering an artillery test fire over half the royal quarter.”

The oberstleutnant chuckled. “Alcohol and migraine medication in equal measure. Then again, you have been at it awhile. Perhaps a break?”

Standing, Chrysalis let her wings extend. She gave them a test buzz and upon seeing that everything was in order, she nodded a quick agreement. “Perhaps you’re right. It has been awhile since I’ve had a day off.”

She let her eyes scan the throne rome and they zeroed in on a young changeling mare currently guarding Jachs’ office door. Reasonably attractive, an officer so due a bit of respect but low enough rank she wouldn’t be missed. She’d do. “You, over there. Junior officer looks like?”

She turned to face the queen and gave a polite salute. “Ja, meine Königin!”

Chrysalis hopped from the throne and slowly walked over to her. She eyed the changeling up and down. “What’s your name?”

“Fähnrich Reza, meine Königin!” She held the salute and stood at attention perfectly.

“You’re confined to your room for the time being. We’ve had reports of someling running around as you causing a ruckus. I knew it couldn’t be you-- but for now, to be safe, I want you to stay here while we catch this miscreant. Can you do this for me?”

Reza had purple pupil-less eyes, like Alcippe. They widened in surprise. “A...an infiltrator, your majesty?”

“We’ll find out. For now,” Chrysalis flicked her hoof in the direction of the Officer’s quarters and Reza quickly obeyed. Another salute, and she turned and marched towards her room.

Queen Chrysalis turned to Alcippe. Then, with a greenish flash of flames ensorcelling her, Fähnrich Reza spoke. “I’ll be back by tomorrow. Do try to keep Canterlot from being invaded again in the meantime.”

Alcippe gave a little nod and privately hoped she wouldn’t be held responsible later.

The cold night air shocked Chrysalis. She didn’t show it as she gave the single changeling guarding the palace grounds a polite tip of her officer’s cap and she was on her way.

Queen Chrysalis had never been to Canterlot’s streets outside of a parade. She had to admit, she was a little excited just to see things from a different perspective. All things, in time, grew boring. Even looking down upon a world of terrified supplicants, endlessly stumbling over themselves to appease her.

Not to mention all these strange feelings that endlessly smug bug had stirred up inside her. The queen was not often introspective. Her gaze turned outwards to the future rather than inside to herself.

Yet the past few days had been trying. Second Wind’s continued absences had left her feeling like she was partly to blame. Despite how silly of a notion it was, she recognized these feelings as ‘guilt’ and reckoned that if she was feeling guilt over the fate of a pony who didn’t even die, then things inside her head were messed up indeed.

It was all she could do to keep finding things to occupy herself with. Any moments of quiet and thoughts she did not enjoy would worm their way into her brain. Like evil little maggots, burrowing their way into her head and whispering uncomfortable ideas. Like that she should feel guilty for hurting Second Wind. It wasn’t her fault she hurt the stupid cretin! A starving queen needs love, and he had been conveniently there.

Then again, he’d only been there because he’d rushed to her aid. She was in trouble. Very possibly she could have died there and she’d repaid his kindness by…

None of these thoughts would be a problem if Jachs wasn’t such a pony-loving fool in the first place.

Ugh, she banished the parasitic intrusions. No, this stroll was exactly what she needed. She needed to clear her head.

The queen found herself grimacing as she threw her gaze skyward as if to curse the heavens for their part in her inner turmoil. It was a clear night. There were stars out. Here, in Equestria, there was little light pollution along the mostly rural land. It was rather serene to just stare up into space.

Briefly, Chrysalis’s mind wandered to the pony princesses. The Celestial and Lunar parents of ponykind. There were rumours among her own kind that each star was an eye Luna could see out of. If you plotted and schemed in the dark, Luna would find out. Luna would be there to keep her ponies safe.

Chrysalis softly sighed, seeing her breath catch in the cool night air. Preposterous whimsical fantasy, her conquest proved that much.

The queen checked her watch. 8:00 PM. There was time.

She trotted down the grand staircase and into the royal quarter proper. There were many ponies and changelings out at this time of night. She’d not caused much of a stir, junior officers travelling up and down the stairs seemed common enough.

The myriad creatures of Canterlot busied themselves eagerly with tasks of the day. Here the bureaucrats and nobility, changeling military police, regular pony merchants, and all other different flavours of creature mingled freely.

It was…astonishing, in a way. For a time, Chrysalis sat on the marble steps which lead up to the palace and watched. She saw a pony merchant selling fruits out of small stalls hastily making sales to a gathered group of changelings and ponies. Then, that same group turned to carrouse another stall. She tried to focus her hearing on them. It seemed to be a friend group, a little drunk, making a point to try to convince one of the changelings in the group to try many different pony foods. According to one of them, ‘earth ponies grow it best’

Then, her gaze found two guards-- no, one guard, and one pony volunteer. The pair were obviously goofing off on duty, and normally Chrysalis would be furious at this, but watching the changeling mime-out whatever foolishness he was doing to make the pony laugh made her feel proud. Strangely, proud.

Farther along, there was a two-pony couple halfway sneaking into an alleyway. No, one pony, and one disguised changeling. Chrysalis imagined she was seeing an infiltrator at work before something strange happened. The disguised changeling did a tiny transformation, and in place of his dull herbivore teeth a pair of razor sharp changeling fangs appeared in his mouth. The pony had a flush of deep crimson as the fangs nipped gently upon her neck. Then, just as quickly, the fangs vanished and they were a normal pony couple nuzzling on the sidewalk.

Why, in her name, was the atmosphere here so casual!? For her own sake, these idiots were just under attack-- what, last week? Now they were laughing and talking and whatever you call the crime against nature that the infiltrator was doing, like they’d been living with each other their whole lives!

Where were the changeling legions, the armed garrison patrols, the atmosphere of fear and subjugation? These ponies should be averting their gaze when she looks at them. Bowing low, shrinking from her sight. Yet, when she catches the eyes of a pony, they barely acknowledge her. If she’s particularly unlucky she’ll get a wave or a tip of the hat.

Chrysalis leapt to her hooves. There was one place in Canterlot she knew had to be as depressing as a changeling concrete bunker. One place they could not couch their occupation in filly’s gloves.

She checked her watch. 8:30.P.M. She made her way to the square at the lowest part of town, head held high. Chrysalis ran her tongue over her fangs in anticipation. Every commissariot had quotas and they all met them, even Canterlot. They had to meet them!

Queen Chrysalis would find her way to the love extraction building.

It’d been set up nearest the main gate at the South, by the railway station. Easy to find. Strangely, the sign said it was a ‘love donation clinic’ and a small piece of paper in the window read ‘bits for love!’ It looked like it was written in crayon. How one makes a mandatory responsibility a ‘donation’ she’d love to see.

Chrysalis pushed the swinging door open and a tiny bell above it rang. It was a clean place, small, could hold maybe twenty ponies at max, not counting the staff.

Behind the counter a pony looked up from a newspaper. “Oh! Hello, ma’am. Er…Ensign Reza? Is this another inspection?” She was a small little unicorn with a white coat and a whiter mane. Chrysalis quickly scanned the counter for a nametag with no luck.

“Yes and no,” Chrysalis replied, thinking quickly. “We will have some visitors to the capital soon so I want to see how well you can explain things to someling who doesn’t understand the extraction process. Can you help me with that?”

The marshmallow maned pony’s hoof tapped gently against her chin. “Uhh, sure, but we’re still open. There’s a regular in the back.”

“A regular?” Chrysalis approached the counter quizzically. “What do you mean? There are ponies who often visit?”

Confused, the pony arched an eyeridge. “Yes?” She cautiously tried, before a sudden realization flashed across her face. “Oh! Yes! Yes, Ms. Stranger ma’am.”

Chrysalis smiled quietly, letting the pony talk.

Jumping from her chair, she beckoned Chrysalis, or Ensign Reza, around into the back. “See, here in Canterlot, we get plenty of love just by offering incentives to interested ponies.” Chrysalis thought back to the sign in the window and rolled her eyes. If only she knew you could get ponies to willingly give up their love by just paying them. “We don’t even do the monthly rotation lottery anymore. You know, the Seaddle Protocol?”

Chrysalis nodded. A method of sustainable love harvesting thought up by the surgeon general.

“Well, turns out, right? The more one pony gets harvested and allowed to recover from, the more they can offer each extraction. For example.” She cleared her throat. Chrysalis imagined this was probably rehearsed.

“Say you’ve got one pony who gives you one single erote of love per harvest. You may harvest him twice a week safely. Now, say you continue this process for months. Eventually, the pony builds up an immunity to the effects of being harvested-- and a larger stockpile of love. So, where you used to only be able to take a little, now you can fully drain the pony and he suffers very minor effects. Some none at all, like our current regular. Not to mention, his stock refills quicker and to a higher maximum. Now, your one erote pony gives you three every single day, with hardly any side effects at all.”

Chrysalis immediately likened the effect to the love endurance training her own praetorians go through. To imagine it could even work on a pony was nothing short of astonishing.

“And now,” the snowy maned pony continued, “we simply have more love than we know what to do with, and most of it comes from a handful of ponies we employ as full time love batteries. As you’re aware I'm sure, love has an extremely small shelf life, so any excess of our quota would just be wasted.”

The changeling queen nodded, amazed, with wide eyes. “And the-- the love batteries as you call them. How do they feel about this?”

“Oh it’s all completely voluntary, doubly so for the regulars who make a habit of visiting. In pragmatic terms, they get paid to lay down and go to sleep in the clinic while we run the harvester.” The doctor pony shrugged. “If we weren’t already maxed out I’d probably run one of them as I napped. Why not, right? Get paid to sleep.” She mumbled something else under her breath. It sounded like ‘lucky bastard’

The queen’s hoof found her chin and she rubbed it in thought. “You’ve mentioned there’s a regular here? Why and may I meet him?”

She stuttered in response. “Usual donations. Er-- I suppose, sure. Just eh. Well, he’s…” The receptionist brought a forehoof up to tap at her head. “He’s not the most-- well, he’s strange.”

Chrysalis shrugged. “All ponies are strange to me.” She softly spoke in a smile, meeting the current pony’s eyes in hope it came across as a joke and not an insult.

She didn’t seem to take offense at least. “Sure, just-- he’s.” Her hoof fell down and tapped against the carpeted floor. “Well, you’re a grown mare, I’m sure you can handle him. He’s in the first extraction room. First door on your left.” With that she gave a polite nod and saw herself back to the counter.

Now the queen was properly curious. She stepped closer to the extraction room, hooffalls gentle on the carpet, and pricked up an ear. She could catch a few words over the gentle hum of the machinery. Apparently, this one wasn’t so keen to nap whilst being harvested.

Without so much as a knock, Chrysalis opened the door and beheld a blue pegasus with a blonde mane. It was tied up in a fancy pony pomf, but what caught Chrysalis’ attention more than anything was the prominent stubble along his chin. She didn’t even know ponies could grow beards.

“So I said to her, I say. ‘You know, all this talk about love? Why don’t we go back to my place and we can make it.” He made a show of bouncing his eyebrows, which the attending doctor didn’t bother to look up from her newspaper to see.

“Captivating, sir.” Her voice was as dull and slow as an inebriated sloth. It sounded like one too. “Uh-- excuse me?” That was directed at her. It was a changeling doctor. The shining blue eyes of Chrysalis’s brood looked back at her.

Chrysalis gave her best disarming smile. “Just a small inspection, Ärztin”

“Nehmen Sie sich Zeit. Not like I’m going anywhere soon.” The doctor lifted her newspaper back up and crossed her hind legs as she sat back in her chair.

“Whoa! Whose this!?” The pony, with the machine like a great drill hanging above him and glowing green whilst it drew love from his chest, leant up to get a good look at her. Chrysalis felt suddenly exposed. Like she was stepping from hiding inside a bush into a crowd all staring at her. “You come all the way down from the castle just to see little ole me? I mean, I knew I was important, but an officer! I’m flattered and humbled.” The pony bowed as best he could from his position in the medical bed. “Zephyr Breeze, Zu Ihren Diensten.”

Chrysalis reeled. Both from hearing a pony speak her mother tongue and from the sheer audacity of this tiny pastel creature. “Charmed.” She said, through gritted teeth. Then, Chrysalis noticed he’d extended a forehoof out in a gesture to take hers. Like a visiting prince might do to a pony princess. A swift glare and he withdrew it.

He crossed his hind legs and hooked his forehooves behind his head, completely unperturbed. “Yeah, you’re lookin’ at the best love battery in the world. I can take anything you bugs got. I’m a pretty big deal.”

Chrysalis found herself glancing back at the doctor for an affirmation. She hadn’t noticed from behind her paper. She would be forced to interrogate this reprobate. The queen of the changelings mentally steeled herself. “Really?” Her voice shot up so high in pitch it threatened to break the shiny glass tube Zephyr’s love was being fed into. “How interesting! Do tell me everything. How are you even still conscious?”

Behind her wall of current events, the changeling doctor sighed, shoved the entire newspaper into her face, and used it to stifle a scream.

“...and that’s how I learned my life’s true calling! Du Schöne, I’ve never felt more fulfilled. The more I talk with you bugs, the more I wanna feed you! You’re all so beautiful and sexy and dangerous and smart!”

The doctor had shut down the harvester and extracted herself from the room over an hour ago. Chrysalis had found the story enlightening, although the constant tangents about his personal interests in individual changeling mares were a bit tedious.

“Well I’m glad the occupation has been a boon for some ponies.” Chrysalis fiddled with the instruments left atop the doctor’s desk, twirling a stethoscope around by holding it aloft in one hoof. “Would you say your life is better now that the changelings have taken over?”

“So much better!” He’d leapt up and jumped on her desk. “I make so much money just by coming here. I have my own house now! And…I get to meet so many lovely new faces.” This time he did manage to bow.

Chrysalis found him sort of amusing in a podunk pony sort of way. She could see herself keeping this one as a court jester, perhaps. Still, this meeting was growing stale and she still had hours to burn. She was about to beg her leave when he spoke up again.

“When I tell Fluttershy she’s gonna be so jealous.”

A tiny train crashed in the queen’s head. All her thoughts, like the sudden snap of a recurve bow gone taught, stopped. Then, she grinned. “Providence!”

“Proviwho?” Zephyr Breeze questioned but Chrysalis bowled completely over him.

“Have you seen her recently?” She nearly shouted into his face as she leapt from behind the desk. “I’m…a…I also like animals, so--”

“Oh, nah. Haven’t seen her since the war.” The pony shrugged. “Last I heard she vanished in the Everfree Forest. I am not going looking for her either!”

Chrysalis batted her eyes and put on the biggest smile she could. “You know, Zephyr Breeze, you’re just so interesting. Do you think you could show me around Canterlot? I am new in town you see.”

He looked like a filly in a candy store extending a wing to wrap around her back as the pair trotted from the clinic.

Queen Chrysalis caught the eye of the changeling doctor as she walked out. She looked some combination of confused and horrified. Like she’d just discovered a brand new disease. The doctor mouthed a quiet ‘really?’ as Chrysalis turned to leave with her new escort.

The queen ignored it. Not every meal need be gourmet. Chrysalis flexed her wings, snuggling close against Zephyr’s warm feathers. He looked happy as a clam.

10:00 P.M. Still time.

“That was really crazy. I didn’t know what to say. Then I thought ‘wow, I can’t believe you’d do that!’ and I still can’t! But of course as the gentlestallion I am I never said anything. You’d never believe it to look at him, but…”

Queen’s mercy this pony can talk so much without managing to say anything. He’d regaled the queen so far with local gossip, the tale of how he learned of his ‘natural talents’, his difficulties in how pony society before just ‘wasn’t for him’ and how ‘nopony ever understood him.’ This was broken up by him periodically extolling her virtues as one of the only creatures that really ‘gets him’ and how changelings are perfect.

Well, that last one wasn’t too bad. Stopped clocks and all that.

The sights weren’t terrible either. Canterlonian architecture did have a certain regality to it. The ponies preferred stark white on their buildings which gave the entire town a particularly royal flair.

Canterlot’s main street seemed to cater to all possible customers at every hour of the day. Even this late there was a crowd hundreds strong flitting between shops that sold outrageously expensive knick-knacks and overpriced dining places. Fancy decorations, gleaming baubles, a zebra shop that sold some sort of brass lantern infested with evil snail things that purported to assist with muscle fatigue.

She’d be lying if she said some of the jewelry on offer didn’t catch her eye though. Chrysalis was examining a platinum emerald necklace in a shop window when her escort’s wing went around her back. “Having fun?” He asked, his eyebrows bouncing in lecherous intonation.

“So much.” She smiled so widely she was in danger of breaking her mouth. “So, um. When do you think Fluttershy would--”

“Oh that’s a good piece. Should get the amethyst, though. It’d suit your eyes.” Zephyr flew up to the window, squinting into it to try and make out the inside. “Mmmmmm! Got one in stock. Want me to buy it for you?”

Chrysalis felt strangely offended. “I--, no you don’t have to do that. I wanted the emerald to match my magic. I’d prefer not to--” the words had scarcely left her mouth before her escort zipped into the shop and back out again with a shining emerald necklace. Which, he took great pride in telling her, he bought with cash.

“This is absurd. You really don’t--” He would have none of it. Zephyr took the necklace in his wings and clipped it into place on her neck despite her protestations. A chain hung above her uniform, which dangled a small emerald in front of her lapel. Suddenly, Chrysalis found her chitin cheeks glowing a soft rosy red.

Zephyr hovered in place, crossed his fores and smirked. “Yeah. Looks good, you were right. Give us a little,” he mimed tapping a horn on his forehead. “Would you, love?’

For the first time in her life, Queen Chrysalis cast a spell because a pony asked her to. Her horn glowed blazing emerald as she took the necklace in her kinesis and lifted it by her snout, comparing the glow of her horn to the green of the jewelry. Zephyr Breeze made a long, low whistle.

“Beautiful,” he said. “Almost as much as the mare wearing it.”

Where did this confidence come from? It was like he was a completely different pony. Chrysalis, though, only smiled. “Would you expect any different?”

“No.” He dropped beside her and hooked a wing behind her back once more. “I wouldn't.” And he trailed a forehoof under her chin, lifting her snout up, forcing her to look into his eyes. They were such a lovely purple.

Oh, what the hell.

Chrysalis leaned forward, capturing the stallion’s lips in a kiss. It was meant to be a short thing but ponies are so excitable. He tried to deepen it, pushing his tongue past her teeth, but Chrysalis extracted herself. She held his snout at bay with an emerald magic kinesis and demurely smiled, just out of reach.

“Hnf! Tease.” Zephyr made a show of flipping his blonde mane indignantly, breaking the kiss with an exaggerated cry. “All that effort I put into wooing you was completely wasted. I am so forlorn.”

Rolling her eyes, she beckoned him with a flick of her snout. “Come along, little stallion. The night is still young and there is more of Canterlot I want to see.”

Zephyr quickly trotted up beside her. “Your wish is my command!” He quickly retorted. Curiously, he seemed to be fond of walking with his wing around her. Perhaps a cavepony method of showing off his ‘mare’ to any onlookers?

Chrysalis pondered this before he started up again. “Oh, so this one time, I was hanging out with a bunch of my friends near the gate, and we were talking about how cool it is that--” She silenced that immediately with a magical grip on his mouth. He sputtered, raising an eyeridge beyond his forcefully pursed lips.

“Let’s just…focus on the here and now, hm? No more inane, repetitive, stories. Okay?” He responded with a quick nod of his head, lips still comically held in place by her magic, and Chrysalis released him.

Forced, for once, to find something to talk about that wasn’t himself, Zephyr trotted quietly at the queen’s side for a short while before he finally figured it out. “So, uh. What do you do for fun?”

Chrysalis had stopped in front of Celestia’s old school for gifted unicorns. She’d been reading the small ‘closed by order of the queen’ warning sign. That was strange. She couldn’t remember ordering this, specifically. His question shook her out of a deep thought. “Hm?”

“Like, you know, to kill time.” He shrugged. “I uhh, well actually, nowadays I spend most of my time at the clinic. It’s actually been awhile since I had time off work. I used to have a lot more.”

“We have that in common then. Apparently, I work so much I don’t even remember the orders I sign.” Chrysalis reached out to brush her hoof along the sign, looking for something that gave away who placed it there and finding nothing.

“You sign orders a lot? Do ensigns do a lot of that? I figured that was more like, the Generalmajor’s thing.”

Chrysalis’s tail flicked. Damnit, she’d gotten rusty and complacent. Long gone were the days of her being the unmatched infiltrator that effortlessly impersonated an alicorn. “Sometimes I pick up slack around the palace,” she answered evasively.

Now she had to get his mind off it. Luckily, for Equestrian stallions, there was always one thing they couldn’t resist talking about. “Were you telling the truth earlier? Saying you’re a changeling mare magnet,” she made a show of giggling. “How many have you known so intimately?”

“Hundreds!” He blurted out and then immediately shoved his hoof into his face. “I-- oh Celestia, even I don’t believe that.” He hooked a hoof around the back of his neck and sheepishly continued. “Uh. You’re actually the first that’s ever really, you know, stuck with me this long.”

This long? For a quarter of a night? At least she knew she’d caught him off guard. Chrysalis didn’t voice how sad she found that but instead offered a placid smile. “Well, don’t beat yourself up over it. Changelings are very pragmatic. If you don’t interest a changeling immediately they are likely to ignore you completely.”

He perked up. “So, does that mean I interested you somehow?”

Yes, I wanted to use you as a hostage to lure in and capture or kill your sister.

“Was it my awesome stories!?”

Chrysalis stuttered. “No! Goddess no. No. Please, just-- just stop blabbering for five seconds.”

He deflated a little bit. Chrysalis swore, if there was a fire in that pony’s eyes, it just went from bon to camp. “Oh. Sorry.” He dragged his hoof along the cobblestone road, kicking a loose pebble. “So. No stories? Can I at least talk about--”

Red anger flashed in her eyes. Let none say she was not the most benevolent queen to ever grace this continent with her presence.

Chrysalis turned on her hooves and looked Zephyr Breeze square in the face. “For the love of all that is good in this wide, empty world! Listening to you blabber on and on nearly drove me insane. I do not care about your friends. I do not care about your past conquests. I do not care about the crazy adventure you heard Dinky Doodle and the donkey had!” She was shouting now. “You are MY date. You ask politely about me. I ask politely about you. Repeat, until rapport is built. You don’t hijack the conversation and talk about ‘this’ or ‘that’ again and again nonstop until your vocal chords strain!” Finally, Chrysalis panted, lifting a fore to rub softly at her temple. “A date is a collaboration between two individuals. Not an excuse for a captive audience.”

Zephyr tucked his ears down apologetically. He didn’t want to meet Chrysalis’s gaze, just staring downwards at the ground like a beaten little puppy, and the queen immediately felt that familiar pang of guilt that ponies were so adept at stirring within her. “S-sorry.” He stammered. “I guess I just--”

Her magic gripped his lips again. “No! Just. Quiet. Listen. No excuses, just listening.” He nodded and she released him with an indulgent sigh. “You’re not hopeless. You can be quite charming with anything that isn’t talking, but my word, you just talk and talk and talk…if you learned to listen you’d actually be quite the catch.”

“You mean it?” He brushed a lock of blonde mane from his eyes.

Chrysalis shrugged. “Oh, of course. Beyond the wealth, I imagine many changelings would adore having an infinite source of love they can drink like water every morning.”

“Oh.” Zephyr looked away again. “So just for the things I can give them.”

Chrysalis rolled her eyes and took hold of her necklace again. Glowing green, just like her magic, she lifted it and waved it about in front of his face. “And that you’re a very thoughtful and emotional stallion, with a penchant for creativity judging by your fancy mane. All attractive qualities.” Then, she grimaced. “But seriously, you really need to shave.”

Zephyr Breeze let out a chortle half through his nose and Chrysalis found that he was smiling again. “So, uh. You never told me what you do for fun.” Regaining his stride, he stood beside her, laying his wing across her back once more.

Bold, this one. He certainly regained his confidence quickly. “I seduce Equestrian stallions.” She daringly retorted, leaning into his embrace to plant her teeth upon his neck in a way just like she’d seen that infiltrator do a short while ago.

“Whoah.” He shuddered visibly. The stallion ‘gulped’, and the movement of his throat pressed his flesh into her fangs just that little bit more. “You’re doing a really good job.”

The tour of Canterlot’s lower portion continued on into the night. Chrysalis discovered the seedy part of town where the probable revolutionaries frequent and she rather took a liking to it. The pony lower classes all politely ignored her when she was in their presence. Whether out of genuine fear or apathy she didn’t know and she didn’t care. It was wonderful to not be the center of attention for once.

Eventually, they’d swung around from the lower districts back to the royal quarter, and Zephyr Breeze stopped in front of a large two story townhome. Typical Canterlot style; stark white and marble. Expensive.

“So. Uh.” Zephyr hooked a hoof behind his neck. “This is me. Sooooo…” He trailed off, looking to Chrysalis for assistance, but she only smiled and arched an eyeridge, playing up the clueless and innocent mare.

“So?” She finally added, tilting her head with a smile.

Zephyr trotted in place, shoving his hoof into his face, before clearing his throat and righting himself. “So. Do you wanna, like, come hang out?”

Chrysalis burst out into laughter. She couldn’t help it. Of all the ways she’d been propositioned before, ‘come hang out’ was perhaps the single most absurd. Zephyr Breeze was blushing furiously, but she decided to throw him a bone. “Ask me again. Be a little less…casual?” She snorted. “You’re inviting a mare into your home. Show her some respect.”

Zephyr thought for a moment, not meeting her gaze. “Would you like me to cook you dinner?” He finally got, looking back at her with a sheepish shrug.

Chrysalis lifted a hoof in thought. “Hm. Welcoming, open-ended enough, polite enough to not be asking outright, respectful enough to not sound like a frat colt talking to a ‘bro’” She tapped his snout with a forehoof. “Alright, I have decided I am seduced.”

Zephyr practically sprinted across his lawn, fumbling with his wings to get the key into the lock. “I uh-- I actually wasn’t expecting guests so I don’t have much.” He managed it, shoulder-checking the door open. “But damnit I’ll go foraging if I have to!”

Chrysalis slid past him and into the foyer. He was saying something else but she didn’t hear it. As Zephyr was speaking, his entire body was lifted aloft with an emerald green kinetic magic. He looked quite silly held in the air mid wing-flap. Like a still image. “How about we skip dinner?” She slammed the door closed behind her with a hindleg. In the same motion, she threw the pegasus back and onto the large rug that dominated his living room.

He tried to say something, but Chrysalis was already feeling that tingling in the tips of her fangs-- her real fangs, not this fake vessel’s. The love this pony gave off was coming in waves like a torrential downpour. Every beat of his heart, which was rapidly increasing in pace, sent waves of hazy love into the air around him. Just being near him was giving her a contact high.

She stepped over him, her fore pressed onto his chest. Saliva fell from her fangs onto his cheek. “I have,” she said, but it came out more as a growl. Baring her fangs, she shook her head quickly, banishing the onrush of instinct.

“...other appetites.”

6:00 A.M. No more time.

Chrysalis looked over the sleeping stallion. He snoozed peacefully and deeply, one hoof thrown out exaggeratedly above his head like he was throwing a ball. She slid out from beneath the covers, at some point during the night they got back to the bedroom, and exfiltrated herself from Zephyr Breeze’s bed with the skill of the infiltrator queen. She had left him without so much as a note on the nightstand.

Despite herself, she hoped he wouldn’t take it personally. He seemed like a sensitive fellow.

7:00 A.M. Queen Chrysalis trotted through the throne room doors one hour early. She’d stayed over a little longer in the end, stealthily sneaking a morning snack from Zephyr’s fridge and his ambient sleeping love haze. She had quite a pep in her step, as the ponies would say, and wore a casual happy smile.

She’d still need to be in the throne room at the appointed time. Despite being Herself, she had promised to take over the royal duties of Canterlot and she wasn’t about to shirk that. She passed the Oberstleutnant, who was at her desk outside of Jachs’ office, coffee in magic, reading something convoluted and innocuous.

Alcippe didn’t stand up to salute. “Quite the smile, my queen. Did your sojourn go well?”

“That is because it is a great morning, Alcippe!” Chrysalis flipped her mane and her whole body shivered in the dull fuzzy feeling of overflowing love. Then she realized she just used the Oberst’s name. Then she realized she didn’t care. She was the barking queen of the changelings! If she didn’t want to use titles, she wasn’t going to.

Instead of making her way to the throne, though, Chrysalis sat beside Aclippe’s desk. “Has Second Wind come by?” She asked, as casually as one would a friend at the office.

Alcippe was admittingly a little put off by the sudden familiarity. Then again, these past few days working so closely with her, she’d come to expect a few eccentricities. “He’s--” she began, and thoughts of lying crept into her skull. Alcippe had her issues with Chrysalis and she had more than one reason to protect Second Wind.

Still, outright lying to her sovereign was a new step she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take.

As if reading her thoughts, Chrysalis disarmingly smiled at her. “I’m not going to hurt him, you know.” Chrysalis’s voice notably dropped a few octaves. She spoke…softly. Aclippe thought she detected remorse. “I recognize that I--” She interrupted herself, scrunching her face in thought. “I mean to say. I find it--”

“He’s not called out today, at any rate.” Alcippe’s voice lowered to match the queen’s own. “His shift starts at eight. If you’re going to apologize you can try to grab him before he’s on duty.”

Chrysalis scoffed. As if she’d apologize for taking what she needed from a soldier pledged to guard her life. That was his job, after all! She didn’t vocalize that. Instead she gave a polite acknowledgement and resigned herself to that most embarrassing of activities a monarch is forced to do: waiting.

The ever punctual Second Wind was there for his shift at eight on the dot. He trotted in through the grand throne room doors, politely nodded at the guarding changeling, and immediately made his way to Alcippe’s desk. Only to stop himself part way there.

Queen Chrysalis herself was sitting by Alcippe’s desk. She was smiling. When she noticed him, she nudged her nose towards herself in a ‘come here’ motion. Second Wind groaned inwardly and braced himself. He knew he’d have to pay the piper eventually.

“Your most serene majesty.” The pegasus gave a bow as he approached, which Chrysalis immediately dismissed with a wave of her hoof.

“Today I want to skip the pleasantries, Kommandant.” She said, “I’ve been thinking you’re avoiding me lately.”

That familiar diplomatic tension every time he talked to the Queen snuck into his mind. The sense that anytime he says one wrong word or mutters one wrong phrase all of ponykind would face the consequences. Second Wind didn’t reply. He didn’t know how to.

“Originally, I found that very annoying. I am your queen, after all. It’s quite petty of you, I thought.” Sighing, she exhaled. “Then I tried to see things from your perspective. There I was, asking after you for days, only to forcefully harvest you when you didn’t have a choice in the matter."

Those damned little 'feelings' maggots were crawling around in her head again. The devils were telling her that she had hurt him badly, one of the only ponies that had ever shown her respect without being tricked or forced to at the end of a gun. It was like she was at war with herself. Part of her knew that he was livestock. Food, for her changelings, as was the natural order. The other part felt...what was the correct word? Tolerance? Respect?

No.

Protective. She felt protective over them. At least the ones willing to follow her. That was natural. 'It is the duty of the sovereign to secure the lives of the subject' as her mother would say. That's why they needed livestock in the first place. A changeling without love was a step away from death.

Yet, what was she to do when the lives one had to secure were but livestock to her truest and first servants? But if that's what this pony really was, why did she still feel so damned guilty?

She'd been quiet for long enough it was starting to get awkward. Banishing the maggots to Tartarus, she continued. “For any of my changelings, such an act would be nothing more than their duty. But for you I imagine it was…unsettling. I thought, too, that in that moment you might have feared for your life and worried that if I didn’t stop, you wouldn’t be getting back up. A pony should not fear for their life in the process of performing their duty, especially if that duty is the protection of their monarch, nor should a monarch instill such a fear in her subjects.”

Thus, for the second time in as many weeks, Chrysalis found herself forced to say those three damned words that the simple act of being in this ponytopia hellhole kept dragging from her throat. She hadn’t even planned on doing it. It just seemed to fit after explaining her thought processes. Even if she knew she was justified, he might...have incorrect and backwards pony ways of looking at it.

“I am sorry, Second Wind.”

Alcippe, too, had a tiny train running around in her head. It delivered ideas and thoughts where they were needed most in a miniature example of perfect changeling engineering. Her train of thought was engineered better than most. Its conductor was exacting, it was never behind schedule, and its staff was so urbane and pleasant. As she heard those words coming from Queen Chrysalis, that train ran off the tracks, overturned, and exploded in a balefire megaspell.

“I was not expecting that.” Second Wind had to laugh. He trotted over to Alcippe’s side and leaned against her desk. “Thank you for…trusting me enough to say that.” He nervously brushed his hooves over one another.

“Yes. Well, are you okay, really? If it was truly that unsettling, I can see about getting you permanent medical leave, if you require--”

“I’m fine.” He assured her. “I wasn’t. I’ll admit that. I mean, I’m stallion enough to admit that I wasn’t.” He corrected. “I mean. Sorry-- I mean to say. I always figured I’d get shot or blown up to get taken off duty not, you know, that. It was hard.”

Chrysalis apologetically nodded. “Wounds of the mind are as debilitating as wounds of the body. Please, I promise you none shall think less of you for taking the time you need.”

“You know, that’s a pretty good way of looking at it.” Second Wind’s hoof tapped Alcippe’s desk in agreement. “Just another injury that needs time to heal?”

In Alcippe’s head the survivors were tending to the wounded and nearby good samaritans were rushing to help. “Yes, I agree.” She said lamely, ears still twitching as she tried to process what she just heard.

“I’m not going to ask you to forgive me,” Chrysalis continued. “But I sincerely hope my actions won’t have you thinking less of the rest of my changelings.”

“Of course not!” Second Wind heartily responded. “I’m not that kinda stallion.”

Chrysalis nodded and tapped her hoof against the cold marble floor. “I believe that was everything I had to say then. I’ll see you-- oh, no it wasn’t. Excuse me.” And just like that, she cast a quick teleport and poofed out of existence.

Then, she was back, holding a small metal object in her magic. “I noticed changelings buying up property in the Eastern section of town, seeing how it was mostly vacant and doubly so now. I thought it rather unfitting. So, in the interests of desegregating the species, I’d like to offer you a home.” She set the object, now clearly a key, upon Alcippe’s desk. “Recently rebuilt by changeling reconstruction efforts, so lacking in furnishings, but a respectable address by all counts.”

Second Wind could hardly believe it. He stared, dumbfounded, at the small shining key. “Are…are you serious? A house in Canterlot?” He stuttered.

“I did say I would reward any who distinguished themselves, did I not?”

Second Wind gleefully took the key in his wing, bowing gratefully. “I don’t know what to say. That’s…a wonderful gift, thank you your majesty.”

Queen Chrysalis smiled softly. “Acta non verba. Do continue expanding the pony volunteers, by the way. I shall be watching with great interest.”

The pegasus happily smiled. “I won’t let you down.” Then, his eye caught something. A flash of green on the Queen’s neck that wasn’t there the last he’d seen her. “Is that a necklace, your majesty?”

Chrysalis had forgotten she was still wearing it. She hovered it up. Pony-make. Emerald inset. “I suppose it is.”

“I like it.” Second Wind added. He hooked a forehoof up to check his watch. "It matches your eyes.”

“And my magic.” She chuckled, tucking the pony-made trash down close to her chest. Chrysalis repeated the motion with her own watch.

Just a few more days and Jachs would be up again and she could go back to Vesalipolis where the wonderful smell of acrid smoke stacks would be there to welcome her home like a big, polluted blanket.

For now, she turned, stretched, and trotted back up to the throne.

For now, there was work to do.

Author's Note

A little bit of levity to start your year off better. Also I named this chapter after my favorite song on the EAW sound track.

Please leave comments! Reviews! Concerns! Questions!

Revenge

“Duh-duhduhduh daaaa! This is Radio Free Equestria and that was me making noises with my mouth because they can't give me anypony to make an intro tune. I’m coming at you live from E.L.F. H.Q. somewhere in who-knows-where!

“First off, a message to active cells. Not all your dogs are barking. Repeating. Not all your dogs are barking.

“Now that’s out of the way so let’s get to the news huh? I have it on good authority our buddies from the Hightower managed to link up with us here at Stonewall. You know what that means? That means a lot of pegasi and a lot of regulars in the same place. That sounds to me like things are about to get reeeaallly interesting! I wouldn’t wanna be a changeling in who-knows-where right about now I’ll tell you that!

“But, that comes with some bad news. Seems like a cell acting independently tried to attack Canterlot all on their own with predictable results. Our sources say the cell commander was killed in the attack. We mourn their loss but extend our welcome here at Stonewall to any survivors. If you can link up with us, we’ll help you in any way we can.

“That’s about the long and short of it so far. But, lemme go on a tangent here. Celestia, you know something? I always hated the Equestrian Broadcast Authority. Free speech is like ninety percent of what makes Equestria awesome so why am I not allowed to say bad words on the air?

“Well let me make use of my newfound freedoms, so granted by our ‘loving and benevolent’ queen. Hey, Queen Chrysalis? From all of Equestria, and everypony living in it, I have a message just for you!

“Fuck you.

“This wonderful message brought to you by me, Torchlight, and the lovely ponies at Stonewall for keeping me fed and housed. Now, big mean and green here is glaring at me so I think they want the radio back. I gotta go!

“Until next time. If you’re ever lost? If you ever need a light in the darkness? I’ll always be here for you. I love you, Equestria, and I’ll never give up on you!”

-R.F.E. Broadcast Records, Canterlot Public Library

‘Stonewall’

That was the name given to the hundred tent camp slipped between a mountainside valley and a thick, lush forest deep in rural Albion. Right now it was absurdly packed with well over ten ponies to a tent, not to mention the amount of pegasi camping out in the clouds above. A big, white, fluffy cloud formation bolted together with smaller, tighter fluffy cloud formations.

From down here, Hightower reminded Rainbow Dash of one of the rumoured changeling zeppelins. The formation cast a long shadow over the ground force below, keeping the ponies in perpetual shade.

Beneath the Hightower, sheltered in Stonewall, Rainbow Dash had lived the past several months. Ever since the disastrous outing back at Acornage, she and her team had been on semi-permanent ‘sit down and wait’ orders. So, they’d sit around all day, bored out of their minds, doing whatever menial task the higher ups graced them with to keep them busy.

She and ‘Team Rainbow’ were in that wonderful gray area of ‘too valuable to risk’ but ‘not valuable enough to be given important briefings.’ So, on most days, they would wait for somepony more important to tell them what to do. Today was not most days.

Today Rainbow Dash was falling.

Her head hit the grass with a shuddering jolt as she quickly leapt back up just as an armored hoof fell into the imprint her snout left. She scrambled to fly, leaping upwards, hooves catching air as her wings beat rapidly. A sudden force gripped her by the tail. Pain shot through her spine as it turned up and cracked her whole body like a whip. She was thrown back down into the dirt.

“Guh-uck!” She spat. While her adversary caught her breath, she braced her forehooves on the ground and bucked her hind legs back with all the force she could muster. It made a satisfying ‘thunk’ as it connected with lamellar armour plates. She heard a cough and a few hoofsteps of stumbling and took advantage.

She was up again and turning on her hooves. The pegasus dropped into a combat stance, legs braced, as she and her opponent caught their breath.

A dull olive green muzzle with similarly coloured eyes met her stare. “Not bad.” Said the pony before her, digging at her herbivorous teeth with a hoof. She made a show of dragging out a few strands of rainbow tail hair and spitting it onto the ground. “But I thought you were supposed to be fast?”

She had seen big ponies before. The closest she could liken Olive Drab to was Applejack’s brother Big Macintosh. Olive Drab was not simply ‘big.’ Olive Drab was a monster that positively towered over everypony else. Over Rainbow Dash she had a full extra head of height and width to match. She was not a fat pony, she bristled with muscles from head to hindleg. If she put on a fur coat, Rainbow could easily mistake her for a bear.

On her olive green flank, proudly shown off, she had a bright metal star cutie mark.

Rainbow Dash bore her teeth like fangs and leapt skyward. She wanted fast? She’d get fast. Her wings caught a current and she angled them like blades. The pony in front of her dropped low, sweeping a hind leg back and bracing her fores together. Then, wearing a smirk, she upturned a forehoof and beckoned.

The pegasus growled in fury. She angled a sharp hoof downwards, augmenting her natural speed with a dive into gravity.

She’d realized too late that she’d done exactly as expected. With surprising dexterity for an earthpony, the mare beneath her jumped onto her forehooves, balanced expertly on them for a half second, then leapt upwards.

Rainbow Dash tried to stop. Her wings wouldn’t turn, her speed and momentum fought against her desire to move, to just get an inch out of the way. Like in a train crash, she could do nothing but close her eyes.

The immovable object of an earthpony met her unstoppable force with a swift and skillful airborne buck, slamming into her chest plate with such force her ribs would have broken were the armour not there to dissipate the blow. She was vaguely aware of a chorus of gasps and ‘eughs’ around her as she cried out in agony, the force of the blow knocking the wind out of her. Rainbow Dash lost control and fell into the ground.

She lay in a broken heap. Her wings wouldn’t move, every flutter denied by the sharp pains rocketing across the bones, crawling down into her chest like spreading veins. She tried to stand only to get the same result. Her body just wouldn’t move.

A hoof tapped into her side and rolled her over as she let out a pained yawp. “That’s it.” Rainbow lifted a forehoof in surrender, voice cracking in agony. “I’m done.” Then, the prodding hoof upturned and beckoned her again. Rainbow took it.

She couldn’t stand without help, so Rainbow found herself hoisted up onto the back of the other mare. Still, her pride wouldn’t let her be dragged away from this. Instead, she slid back down and hooked a forehoof around the earthpony, breathing in ragged pants. “Tough son of a bitch.” She heard Olive compliment and Rainbow chuckled despite the pain.

“Damnit!” Sundancer shouted. She caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye passing a hooffull of bits to a smirking earth pony soldier.

Finally, she looked out to the gathered crowd of the three pony tribes, who immediately broke out into raucous cheers. At some point during the fight they’d gathered into a full circle around the mares. It looked like it ended up being quite the spectacle.

“Alright! Alright! Show’s over! Lock it up!” The greenish mare threw her hoof up and shooed everypony away. “Get back to working instead of gawking!” A few murmurs of discontent whined above the crowd as the gathered masses began to break apart and flit back into the camp, no doubt preparing to gossip about this for days.

After all, it wasn’t often the single most skilled pegasus challenges the only Equestrian general left to a hoof-fight. It was even less often that she accepts.

“Guess you weren’t kidding.” Dash chuckled despite her pain. “Here I thought you were just blowing hot air.”

The mare shrugged. “Eh. And I thought you were just a hotshot young idiot. I’ve wiped out a few of those in my time but you actually got a few good licks in.” She shuffled, hovering a hoof over her chest. “I thought bucking was an earthpony thing. Who knew you turkeys could kick like that?”

Rainbow slid back down, feeling comfortable enough to walk again, albeit on shaky legs. “I actually used to help out on an apple orchard sometimes! I can buck with the professionals.” She said, snout upturned in a prideful smile.

“Oh yeah?” The other mare returned, eyeridge raised in interest.

Rainbow Dash steadied her breathing. The pain from her chest was coming in waves and softly petering to more of a dull aching throb. “But I’m more curious about what you did there-- I’ve never seen somepony counter a dive like that.”

“Anti-jaeger move.” She smirked. “Gotta have a backup plan for when the flyers can’t cover us.” Then, she bumped her flank into Rainbow’s. “Can you walk?”

Although she stumbled, the pegasus softly nodded.

“Then, walk with me would you? I got something I wanna talk to you about.” With that, she turned and beckoned with a casual looking tail flick.

Rainbow did her best to keep up, slipping into a half-trot just to keep pace with the larger earth ponies’ gargantuan steps. Still, there was something about being under the gaze of a direct superior that made you simply want to be better. Even without thinking about it she found herself pushing the pain out of her mind. It was there, still, but she wouldn’t let it bother her.

They’d scarcely made it a few feet before a familiar yellow pegasus glided down onto the grass in front of them. With hoofsteps like rolling thunder she marched up to the pair. Anger snorting through her nostrils, she spared Dash a single glance, before her gaze turned back to her escort.

“Commander Spitfire.” Said the earthpony, saluting, completely nonplussed regarding her fierce bearing.

“Major General Olive Drab.” Spitfire returned it quickly. “Would you mind telling me why you are engaging one of my wonderbolts in a hoof-to-hoof fight in the middle of our headquarters?” She gritted her teeth as she spoke.

“‘Our headquarters?’” Drab hooked one of her heavy hooves behind Dash’s neck and held her. “It’s my army, Commander. You’re just in it. That makes this pegasus, and the HQ,” Rainbow Dash felt herself being tugged into the earth pony. She met Spitfire’s eyes with a wordless, apologetic shrug. “...mine.” The big mare grinned.

“You agreed…” Spitfire’s hoof found her temple for a brief moment. “We agreed,” she corrected herself, “that I would command any pegasi remnants. If Rainbow Dash has made a mistake requiring punishment, it falls under my purview and not yours, to--”

“Mistake? Hah!” The big mare’s hoof rubbed Rainbow’s mane in the same type of cheeky noogie she’d once done to Scootaloo. “She didn’t do anything worth punishing. That was just a way to blow off steam. Don’t worry about it. See, look! Nopony got hurt, right? Did you get hurt, Dashie?”

Unable to properly vocalize the sheer ‘uncomfortable’ she was feeling Dash could only lamely shake her head ‘no’, still pressed onto the bigger mare’s hoof by what felt like a muscle made of solid iron.

“See? All good. No worries, everypony is fine.” Finally, she let Dash go, and the pegasus caught her breath. “Now, go on back to your little hideaway in the clouds, Spitfire. The real mares need to get down to business.”

If Olive’s tone got to her, Spitfire didn’t let it show. Her commander looked at Dash for just a second with an unreadable expression,before she turned back to Olive and gave a nod. Spitfire’s wings extended and she rocketed into the sky.

The pair watched her catch a tail wind and zip into the clouds. “Celestia, I hate her.” Heartily chuckling, she flank-bumped Rainbow and took the lead, trotting in front of her. “You know, back during the war, probably would have won it if not for ponies like her. Hemming and hawing about losing too many soldiers when our numbers were the only advantage we had. Of course, no, I didn’t get my way. Played war with filly’s gloves and look where it got us.” She sneered.

Rainbow Dash had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. In her mind, a few mini calculations tripped over one another. She wondered if she should tell the general what she wanted to hear or just stay silent. Because she knew if she told Olive Drab exactly what she thought about her callous disregard of pony lives she’d probably be court martialed.

“I’m--” Rainbow started. “Well, I think that maybe--”

“Do you know what I hate more than anything, Rainbow Dash?” Olive Drab turned, jabbing her heavy forehoof square into Rainbow’s chest. The fresh bruised pain shot through her like a tiny lightning bolt. She grimaced. “Out of everything in the world, the one single thing I hate the most?”

Rainbow thought for a moment. If there was one thing it made any sense for a mare like Olive to really, truly hate. ”Changelings, ma’am?”

The larger pony’s eyes went wide and she smiled. “Yes!” She shouted loud enough to cause some traffic in the camp to turn and look quizzically at the pair. “Yes! Celestia, yes. For the love of the sun and moon, yes!” She threw her head back and stepped right in Rainbow’s face. She looked positively manic.

“Do you know how many ponies I ask that question to and they say something like ‘the war’ or ‘the death’ or ‘the sadness’ blah blah blah. Goddess! That’s so, just. Refreshingly simple. No.” Then, Olive Drab sat back on her haunches and smiled. “I really hate changelings, Rainbow Dash.”

The silence that followed gave Rainbow the idea she was expected to reply. “I do too.” She raised an eyebrow, feeling more like she was navigating a minefield with explicit right and wrong directions to turn, than an actual conversation.

“Do ya?” The larger mare said. “Whyssat?”

“Uh--” The answer should have been obvious, but…saying that didn’t seem like the right move right now. Still, it was the only one she had. “Because they invaded my country, ma’am?”

“Mmm-- not quite what I’m looking for.” Olive tapped her hooves into the dirt. “I was thinking more along the lines of what they did to Silver Spirit.”

Rainbow felt her breath catch. “They--” She swallowed. She had been trying to forget, to push the memory out of her head. “I--”

“They killed your friend, Rainbow.” The larger mare smiled comfortingly, though the way her teeth flashed like a tiger did not engender comfort. “It’s okay to be angry about that. You don’t have to push your feelings down just because some idiot pegasus thinks fighting angry isn’t proper for an army.”

“No, I--” The truth was, Rainbow Dash didn’t have it in her to hate an entire species. She despised the changeling government true enough. She would say she hated Queen Chrysalis, even. But every single one…there were the Thoraxians, before Chrysalis ended that rebellion. She’d have loved to meet Thorax.

“I heard about that mission.” Olive cut her off. “Lost a soldier, shame about that. But how many changelings did you kill?”

“Personally?” She hadn’t been keeping count. She’d stopped counting a long time ago. It was easier to sleep that way. “About…five. Sundancer had some. Silver, too.”

Olive wavered her hoof. “Say you all had about five each then? Rough guess.” She shrugged. “You know what that tells me? That tells me you can kill a fucklot of changelings and take very minor casualties doing it. That tells me you’re perfect for the little job I got.”

“A mission?” Dash perked up. “Should we inform Commander Spitfire first?”

“No. I don’t need a pegasus platoon, I need a small squad of elite flyers. I need you Dash. You and yours.” Smirking, she added. “And I thought you might like the chance for some revenge.”

Rainbow Dash’s ears twitched. “Oh I’m game,” she grinned. “But I really feel like we should tell--”

“Perfect!” The larger mare gave her a good-nature shove with a single, heavy forehoof. “So, here’s the rub…”

Sundancer and Daisy Chain had stuck together like glue ever since Silver’s death. As Rainbow Dash snouted open the greenish earth pony tent, she was unsurprised to see the pair of them chatting.

“Ack-tongue.” Sundancer was sitting at a plastic table, his mp-10 slung over it in parts. He was running his wing over the barrel, cleaning it expertly.

“Achtung.” Daisy corrected, which Rainbow Dash immediately recognized as the changeling language. “Attention. Atten-hut. Like that.” Daisy had taken it upon herself to become the army’s dedicated radio repair pony. On her bunk and underneath it sat various hulks and wrecks of damaged radio equipment in various stages of repair. Right now she was balancing three different really small screwdrivers in one wing and had the guts of an old short range transceiver strewn about the tent.

Sundancer sighed, leaned back and threw his hooves his head in a stretch. “Stupid language.” He complained. “I dunno how one word can mean four different things.”

“Well, ‘kind’ can mean an element of harmony or a different category of thing. Different ‘kinds’ of words.” She chuckled to herself. The pony was engrossed in her work, expertly flipping one type of screwdriver for another. Rainbow’s eyes went cross simply to imagine the sheer amount of different sizes and types of screws.

Rainbow announced herself with a slip into the tent, letting the shadow of the setting sun behind her wash over the two working ponies. “Hey, there’s our favorite loser.” Sundancer chided, albeit good-naturedly. “I coulda bought dinner with that dosh.”

“How was I supposed to know she could do a flying ninja buck?” Dash sneered back. She made her way into her own bunk, letting herself fall heavily into it with an audible ‘fwoomp’. “Celestia, it was like being kicked by a freight train.”

Rainbow spared a glance to the fourth bunk in the tent. Empty, save the radio parts that now occupied it. Then, she resolved not to look at it again.

“I meant to ask how you were,” Daisy suddenly turned after carefully arranging her collection of screws and tools upon her cot. “That looked pretty rough.”

“Eh,” Dash shrugged. “Bruised ribs. I’ll live. Probably would have broken one if not for the old gear.” Her hoof fell upon her chest armour and tapped it audibly. “Still works even after all this time.”

A sudden silence fell on the tent as both other ponies gave simple nods and grunts of acknowledgement, focusing on their individual tasks. She hooked her forehooves behind her head and let out a long, solemn sigh. “So. General Drab wants us to do something for her. I’ll be honest, I’m not a hundred percent on it.”

“A mission?” Sundancer perked up immediately. He flipped in his chair, leaning up with one hoof over the table. “When do we leave? Goddess, I’m so tired of being cooped up in this hellhole waiting on other ponies to fight my battles.”

Daisy, more cautious, could read Rainbow’s hesitance like an open book. “She wants us to do it against Spitfire’s orders.”

“Got it in one.” Rainbow sighed again, tapping her forehead with a hoof. “Technically, she does outrank Spitfire. Also technically, we’re not really an army anymore. Also technically, Spitfire never told us not to follow her orders. Also technically, Drab told me not to inform the Commander at all.”

Just like that, Sundancer had deflated, his ears falling back down against his skull. “Well shit.” He eloquently put it.

“Those two are at each other’s throats like dogs,” Daisy growled. “Now they’re roping us into politicking?”

The cyan pegasus clicked her tongue. “I dunno about any of that stuff,” Dash brushed the thought aside, moving a forehoof horizontally in front of her like she was physically moving it away. “Let’s focus on the problem right in front of us. That being, I don’t know what to do.

“And there’s another ‘complication’ as Drab put it.” She continued, and Sundancer groaned. “Apparently, this time there’s a pony volunteer regiment guarding the place.”

“So we’d be fighting other ponies.” Daisy clicked her tongue and groaned. “Nothing’s ever simple, is it?”

Dash sat up on her cot, forehooves sat between her hinds. “Like I said, I don’t know what to do. Olive says that everypony who willingly joins up with the changelings are traitors, and…we know what happens to traitors.”

The trio shared a wordless nod.

“Tartarus,” Sundancer cursed. “I signed up to fight the changelings and now they’re telling us to strafe our own kin?”

“That’s not even the worst part.” Daisy added. “How do we know these ‘volunteers’ weren’t just forced to volunteer? They could have been random ponies they plucked off the street and shoved into the military to pad a quota? Or-- or ponies who needed a job and had nowhere else to go? Celestia…” The soft cream pegasus’ voice shuddered.

“Daze.” Dash’s voice, strong and commanding, silenced her. “You can’t get caught up thinking like that, I told you. You just gotta put it out of your mind.”

The smaller pegasi’s forehooves clinked together nervously. “I know,” she said, though her voice lacked any conviction.

Rainbow cleared her throat, hooves tapping the metal cot edge. “Look, I think I’m gonna do this. But I’m not telling you to follow me. I’m not gonna ask you to kill other ponies just because Olive Drab says so. I can do this by myself.”

At that, Sundancer nickered. “Like we’d let you do it alone?” His wings rose and fell in a shrug. “If we’re going through Hell, Dash? We’re going together.”

Daisy nodded. “I wouldn’t let you go alone. Even if I don’t agree with the objective.” She spoke nervously, running her forehooves through her mane. “I just hope we get finished quickly.”

Rainbow forced a smile. While at any other time the camaraderie her friends showed would be heartwarming, now it just felt like she was manipulating them. Then again, she supposed, orders were orders.

Thunder rolled down the mountainside as Rainbow Dash lay upon a rocky outcrop. She brought a pair of binoculars up to her eyes and tried to focus through the rain, which fell like a curtain. Far, far below her a pair of pony guards in changeling grey uniforms chatted and smoked upon a concrete roof. They were sheltering in a small tin shack, glass windows, likely purpose built to look out for pegasi.

“Guess it was too much to hope they’d all be out to lunch.” Sundancer said next to her, tossing his own pair back behind him..

Dash didn’t reply. Instead, her eyes wandered the building itself. It was the biggest concrete eyesore around. It was the eye of a hurricane of steel transformers and power lines. Down in there was the target. “Security is lacking.” She said, loud enough for Daisy to hear. “Are there any surprises to worry about?”

The mare had set up her equipment back from the ledge, a transceiver and antenna hidden by rocky-camouflaged tarping which did little to abate the sideways and stinging rainfall. “This is a pretty small substation, all things considered. They might not think it’s worth devoting a lot of resources!” She had to shout over the rainfall. Then, she picked up her headset and gave a hoofs-up.

Nodding, Dash tapped Sundancer on the shoulder and beckoned him back. The trio huddled together under the tarp. “Let’s go over this one more time,” She said..

“Oh come on, I paid attention!” Sundancer smirked, rolling his eyes good naturedly.

“Even so!” Dash chided. “It’s simple in theory. According to General Drab, there’s a pipeline of natural gas running through the building. We break in, get down to the basement, and break it. Smash a valve or cut it open or something. Then, we get outside, chuck a grenade in through a window, and kaboom.”

“I got it! Kaboom bad ponies, easy enough.” Sundancer rolled his eyes.

Daisy wavered a hoof in his face. “It’s not that simple!” She lectured. “Once you open the valve, any spark you set off down there will send the whole building up. That means you if you’re still in it!”

Rainbow hooked a forehoof around his withers. “So, no gunshots or explosions until we’re clear from the building. Understood?”

Sundancer nodded, a bit reluctantly. “So we do things like you? Up close and personal?”

“Something like that!” Dash agreed. “Let’s try and keep things quiet until we’re ready to bail.”

“Roger that, ma’am.” The stallion nodded, his gaze turning back out to the buffeting rain. On instinct, he moved to shield the mares behind him with an outstretched wing. “We’re lucky for the weather. It’ll mask our hoofsteps.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it!” Rainbow answered. Her eyes fell to Sundancer’s wings for just a flash. Though she thought the gesture a bit silly, she made no effort to step beyond the wing-cover. “The general’s been planning this for weeks. I’m pretty sure our ponies made half those clouds!”

“You guys should get going!” Daisy interjected. “It’s not gonna last forever. Strike while the iron’s hot!”

Rainbow and Sundancer shared a nod. “Alright. S.O.P. from here on,” Dash commanded. “Daisy, you’re gonna have to be on overwatch this time. Can you listen to the radio and watch out for us?”

“You can count on me!” She gave another hoof up and a smile. “But, seriously guys, Sundancer, Ardy. Be careful okay?”

“I’m not planning on dying today, Squirt.” The stallion chuckled and patted her on the head.

In agreement, Rainbow extended her wings. “Not this time,” she promised. “We’re all leaving tonight, I swear.”

Sundancer’s hooves slammed into the rock in a pony clap. “Fuck yes we are!” He agreed wholeheartedly. “If I have to drag both of you out of here, we’re all leaving together.”

“Alright, alright, we love each other!” Rainbow interjected, her eyes flitting up to the overhead cloud cover. Rain came down in torrential waves, hard enough it stung her vision to look up. “Synchronize your watches on my mark, everypony!”

Under her breath, Rainbow Dash heard Daisy mutter something. “On sable wings, black as her purpose, did the night resemble…”

“Three…” Rainbow Dash and Sundancer lined up by the cliff edge. Far below, the little specks of light on the rooftop, the ponies in that tin shack laughed and joked with one another. Right now, they were playing a card game.

“Moonlit flame caught light, and She, lain low, brought down. Reckoning, absolute.”

“Two…” Both pegasi extended their wings. The rain buffeted the pair of them, their coats the only insulation against a liquid torrent. Rainbow felt the wind catch her wings. An invisible hoof, urging her to fall into the sky.

“Chaos and discord reign. From change springs the nightmare once more, raven wings ablaze in majestic light.”

“One…” Rainbow Dash had a fleeting thought. Were those ponies gamblers? Maybe they had cutie marks related to cards? Maybe they’d have been friends, if they hadn’t…No-- no, she pushed the thought aside. Just push it aside. Don’t think about it.

“Mark!” Everypony’s watch clicked in sync.

Rainbow Dash and Sundancer leapt from the ledge. Dash tapped her barrel with a forehoof, calling the stallion over. They flew wing-by-wing close enough that a less experienced pony might crash. “So listen!” She shouted over the rain. “I’m thinking we drop low in the transformers and advance in defilade from the ground! I don’t want those lookouts seeing us backlit by lightning!”

Sundancer gave an acknowledging wing shrug and flipped his wings up. His descent slowed, and he fell into formation at Rainbow’s back left.

The pair touched down in a field of metal and concrete. Rainbow hit the ground running, slamming into one of the transformers as Sundancer fell into step beside her. It was large enough to conceal them from the main building. Up close, they looked like giant metal crates. Dash’s hoof fell to her radio. “Are we good so far?”

The answer came back, garbled and staticky, but audible. “No movement yet. I’m only seeing the two guards on the roof.”

That’s good, thought rainbow, maybe they’d be able to do this without running into any ponies at all. “Copy.” She returned, flicking an ear towards Sundancer, who nodded his assent. As if putting a point on it, Rainbow Dash felt her fur stand on end and a subtle rumble of thunder. Then, hell answered from the sky as a massive rolling ‘boom’ echoed across the field. Loud enough that Rainbow felt the urge to dig a hoof into her ear at the ringing.

Just as quickly, lighting arced between the clouds above her, and the field of metal was lit in ghostly white for a nanosecond. At least they weren’t in danger of being heard.

The sheer force of that recent thunderclap caused Sperber’s desk to rattle. She arched an eyeridge, glancing up at the pony before her, who himself had turned to look out the nearby window as a flash of lightning lit a field of transformers in a flash of electric sun. Sperber had never liked storms --in fact, they nearly terrified her!-- but she put on a brave face for the pony in front of her.

“It’s just the storm, Wild. Calm down.” She spoke casually, omitting the fact that heavy storms like these were used to conceal pegasi ambushes in the war. A fact she’d learned, and been victim to, repeatedly over the years. As if to prove how nonchalant she was, the changeling reached her forehooves up and stretched skyward in a yawn. This seemed to put the pony at ease.

The earth pony’s jaw trembled, but he nodded, taking the more appropriate stance of being at attention.

“Now, what’s this about a ‘transfer?’ Sperber levitated the papers in question out onto her desk. “Let’s see…Canterlot, eh? You have a taste for high society, Gefreiter?” Smiling, she flipped them around in her magic, making a show of arching an eyeridge.

“No, kommandant.” He dipped his head. “I have family there. I want to be closer to my family.”

Sperber didn’t need to be a licensed psychologist to know a practised line when she heard it. “Do you now? That’s funny, I seem to remember a blurb in your file about having ‘no family at all.’ And while we’re at it, what’s the reason you came to me with this instead of your actual commander?”

The pony bit his inner lip. He seemed to shrink down. Perhaps this was a bit mean, but then again, he did try to lie to her. Still, deeming him sufficiently punished, she decided to lighten the mood a bit. “Was it because he is a pony hating jackass who thinks more about what looks good for him than what looks good for the Heer, by any chance?”

Not entirely off guard, the pony shrugged his withers. “He had made it quite clear I would stay exactly where I am, and his personal servant, until he said I could go.” There was a couple seconds of silence before, with a cautious smile, he added. “I don’t think he ever planned on letting me go.”

“Oh of course!” The changeling rolled her eyes. “If too many ponies put in for transfers out of his command, then he looks like an idiot who can’t command.” She took the papers in hoof, her magic gripping a pen, and quickly signed her name to them. “Well, I’d like to see him complain about it to me. I’ll kick him right in the flank.”

Taking the offered paper in hoof, Wild held it close to his chest. “Thank you so much.” He exhaled softly, seeming on the verge of tears, like he’d been holding that one in since he joined the Albionian Volunteers. “I can’t take it here anymore. He’d harvest me, then kick me out to go--”

“Excuse me?” She cut in. “I’m sorry-- he did what!? Service grants you exemption from the love harvest. Damnit.” She slumped back in her chair, forehoof coming to rest up to her temple. “I knew it was bad here, but I didn’t know how--”

Another heavy crack of thunder rattled the entire building. Sperber grabbed a pen in her magic as the vibrations threatened to send it careening down onto the wooden floor of the office. Then, she heard something else. Right at the height of the ‘boom’ a sound like…

“Did you hear…?” She didn’t have to ask. The pony’s ears flicked in the direction of the sound and he couldn’t stop himself from looking backwards.

“Shattering glass…” Both of them said in unison.

Rainbow dragged a rock over the windowsill, clearing the shards which poked dangerously upwards. It was one of those small half windows which lead right to a basement. They’d gotten lucky. She and Sundancer shared a quick nod. He turned to watch over her, and she tucked her wings in and crawled through.

She dropped onto a metal stairwell leading upwards further into the building and downwards towards her prize. A quick glance around and she beckoned silently with a hoof. Then, Sundancer slid in beside her. Both pegasi landed soft on the metal, using their wings to slow their descent.

This room was filled with machines and control panel gizmos Rainbow Dash could not make heads nor tails of beyond it looking vaguely important, lit by dull yellow overhead lights softly flickering in the storm. In here there was a constant, low hum of machinery. “It’s strange, it's so underponied…” She posted up on the stairs, drawing her knife and fixing her gaze upwards.

The stallion gave a half-hearted shrug. “Maybe they’re all asleep?” Silently, Sundancer glode downwards, flitting between metal turbines and other machinery. He called back. “Alright, we’re clear down here. You wanna just…?”

“Faster the better.” Dash nodded, reluctantly taking her eyes off the stairs and trotting into the main machine room. “We’re looking for some big pipe. Should have big ‘flammable’ warnings on it.”

Sundancer nickered. “Think I already found it,” he gestured with a wing. Upon the far wall was indeed a rather large natural gas pipe, roughly pony sized. Most telling of all, there was a big shining red band across its midsection with a burning fire symbol.

“Yep, that'll do it.” Dash cheerfully opined. “So, how do we do this? Do I just like…?” Gripping her knife in the mouth, she mimed stabbing it into the pipe. “That’s not gonna blow us all up in flames, is it?” She spoke through the grip.

Sundancer shrugged his wings. “I thought you talked this out with Drab?” He whispered in a hushed and hurried voice. “I mean, I didn’t bring any time bombs.”

“Fuck it.” She said with an eyeroll, and jammed her knife forward in a swift stabbing motion. It made a loud ‘clang!’ as her blade rebounded.

“Celestia, Dash!” Sundancer chided, glancing over his shoulder and confirming they were still, for now, unspotted.

She made little headway, so instead she went about using the back edge to saw her way through. “Should have brought a hacksaw…” she complained. This, at least, made some progress but was slow going. Still, after a couple minutes of brutally sawing her way through, she began to catch the faint scent of gas in the air.

A subtle rumble of another wave of thunder began and Rainbow could hear the entire building above her shake when a violent weather ‘crash!’ rumbled the floor beneath her hooves. She did not hear the sound of glass shattering at the apex of the thundercrack.

Sperber withdrew her hoof from the mirror, shucking shards of glass onto her office floor. “There’s definitely somepony down there,” she told the earth pony, who knelt down by the side of her door. The poor thing was clearly terrified, but she gave him the calming smile of a leader.

“R-rebels, ma’am?” His voice wavered as his hoof brushed his submachine gun. A changeling mp-10 was slung across his chest, though Sperber doubted how useful it’d be, being shot through a shuddering conscript’s mouth grip.

“Probably.” She said, with the casualness of one deciding what they’d have for dinner. She kinetically gripped her door and stepped into the open, training a hoof-gun on the stairs leading downwards. Her mauser gleamed, gunmetal in rainwater. “I’m gonna go take a look. I want you to grab everypony we got and take positions covering the basement staircase. Can you do that?”

The earth pony nodded. “All of us, ma’am?”

“Everypony we got.” She returned, grimly. “And let’s hope they’re as underprepared as we are.”

“Ja Fräu Kommandant“ A quick hoof-salute, and he slipped beyond the door, sneaking his way to the upper floors.

Using her wings, Sperber brought herself to a quiet stand, the insectoid beating quiet in the heavy patter of rain. In her mouth, she held a small shard of mirror. As the changeling neared the stairwell, she caught the sound of violent sawing. Metal on metal. Well, she thought, they must be either amateurs or supremely confident.

She stood directly over the stairwell, and, taking the shard of mirror in its very tip so that the green glow did not show upon the entire object, she dangled it over the side. There, reflected in the mirror, was the reason they were so confident.

Rainbow Dash; the element of loyalty, Adler’s assassin, the blue devil. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her whole body seize up. If Rainbow Dash was here, then her little garrison had no chance whatsoever. If she could kill Adler, then…

Sperber had entertained elaborate revenge fantasies regarding Rainbow Dash. She’d imagined a dramatic duel, the pair of them in a field of white flowers, staining the petals red with each knife swipe where she would eventually come out on top. She would kill the pony that had herself killed so many changelings and from beyond the grave Adler would smile. But that was just a fantasy.

This was real. There was no mistaking that mane.

Sperber was going to die here.

Then, a strange feeling of zen came over her. Her duty was to the mission, but against Rainbow Dash it was doomed. Her duty instead then went to the soldiers under her charge, the ponies behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Wild had succeeded in gathering the four left here. They’d all taken positions, each one with guns pointing at the stairs, waiting for her to lead them.

Outnumbering Rainbow Dash three to one wouldn’t be enough. If that pony beside her was even half as good as she was, it’d just be a matter of time before they…

Slowly, she hovered the shard of mirror back up, and set it softly upon the metal flooring beside her. Kardinal had taught her one thing above all else. Not every fight could be won.

She just hoped ponies hadn’t lost their sense of mercy. With another look over her shoulder, she locked sad eyes with the earth pony she’d just been talking to. Then, she turned back to the stairs and shouted down them.

“Rainbow Dash!” She heard them scramble down there, taking defensive positions. “We surrender!”

Rainbow Dash would consider herself a veteran soldier. She had fought in many battles, she had killed many more changelings. She did not think even she would be able to convince an entire squad to surrender just by showing up.

Maybe that’s why Olive Drab picked her.

Four pony soldiers. One pegasus, one unicorn, two earth. Two of them, she recognized, were the pair who’d gotten shack guarding duty. All four were lined up against the main building’s wall, drenched in rain and disarmed. One of the earth ponies was clutching a piece of paper to his breast, shielding it from the rain. She ignored that for now.

“I don’t believe you,” Sundancer prodded the changeling with the barrel of his submachine gun, all but shoving her into the wall. “There should be way more soldiers than this defending a power station. Unless you bugs really are that stupid?”

“I put in for reinforcements thrice in the past week!” She answered, rubbing her side with a hoof. “Every time I was ignored and this is what happens. Believe me, Equestrian, I am even less enthused than you.” She stood apart from the ponies, all but forcing attention to be on her. Where they cowered against the wall, she stood proudly out, daring the pair of pegasi to keep their eyes on her.

She was wearing a uniform like the last pegasus hunter, minus the armour plates. This must be the non combat outfit. Blacked out for shock value with that same blood red emblem on her right leg. A pegasus wing over crossed bones.

“I recognize that patch you’re wearing.” Dash spoke up, nudging Sundancer out of the way. “Pegasus hunter.”

“And I recognize you,” she didn’t seem perturbed that Rainbow had just noticed her gear marked her as responsible for the slaughter of at least five ponies. “Butcher. Slaughterer. Killer. Monster.”

Sundancer’s gun thwacked hard into the back of the changeling’s neck. She cried out and stumbled, lurching forward to brace a hoof against the wall. “Oh spare us the ‘we’re not so different you and I’ bullshit! How about instead we just skip to the part where you tell us everything we wanna know and I don’t cut out your fangs and wear 'em like jewelry.”

That got to her. She visibly gulped, her forehoof travelling upwards to press upon her fangs. Rainbow Dash could see her shiver.

“We’re giving you everything you want, rebel!” One of the earth ponies yelled over the storm. “You don’t have to--”

“Shut the hell up!” Sundancer drew up his submachine gun and racked the bolt. The barrel hovered over the line of ponies. Rainbow saw sheer terror in their eyes. One of them whimpered. “You fucking traitors are lucky you aren’t in bodybags right now-- not another word!”

Rainbow Dash was reminded of something from a long time ago. Back in the start of the war, a line of pony soldiers against a wall, bullet holes above the corpses. “Sundancer,” she spoke softly. “We already won. Relax.”

“Relax!?” He turned to her, a twitch in his snout. “We’re out here working our flanks off trying to save these ponies, and they go around and join with the bugs and fight against us, and you want me to ‘relax!?’ His eyes rolled. “Let’s just kill them all and be done with it.”

“Don’t!” The changeling called over her shoulder, her voice raising a few octaves. “These ponies are conscripts. These ponies are conscripts! They didn’t choose to be here, but I did. If you’re killing anyling it should be me.”

“We’re not killing anypony!” Dash nearly shouted. “Gun down, Sundancer. We don’t kill surrendering combatants.”

“The changelings did.”

“Are you a changeling, Sundancer!?”

The stallion’s gun wavered. Finally, he looked back to Rainbow Dash, whose magenta eyes were burning with conviction stronger than he’d seen in months. “No…?” He said, although with the waver in his voice, he sounded unsure.

“Well don’t turn into one!.” Dash put her hoof on the barrel of his gun and pushed it down. He wavered it there, momentarily, before letting it drop with Dash’s hoof. Huffing, he shoved his mp-10 back up to his chest, and threw it over his wing.

Sundancer’s wings flicked rainwater onto the ground. “You say that. Then next week, we learn this one wiped out a couple more of our ponies. It ain’t gonna be my fault.” Snorting, he turned and trotted a circle into the forest of metal crate transformers.

Dash turned back to the line. The farthest left was the changeling, the only one brave enough to look over her shoulder at her. Despite herself, Rainbow felt a begrudging respect. Anypony willing to die for the soldiers under her command is worthy of it. Still, she had questions, and this changeling had answers. In her buglike eyes she read a quiet thankfulness. Dash nodded. “He does raise a good point,” she dipped her snout into black of night Sundancer had trotted off into. “What’s a pegasus hunter doing all the way out here? Are you looking for us?”

“No,” She answered. Rainbow watched her closely, alert for any sign of dishonesty. “I…had some disagreements with the way the Albion garrison is running things. They stuck me out here so I wouldn’t bother the higher ups anymore,” she snickered. “Hell, maybe they stuck me out here cause they wanted you to kill me.”

Unable to detect anything, Dash watched the changeling like a hawk. She didn’t see any obvious signs of deception. “One more question. Why surrender?”

At this, the changeling closed her eyes. “I’m afraid of you,” she breathlessly answered, finally. “I know what you are. I know we’re in no shape to fight you. I know if I tried, you’d very likely win, and then you’d kill every last pony under my command, like you did to Adler. I’m not gonna waste their lives for my revenge.”

“Adler…” She tested the word. “The other hunter?”

“Yes, a friend.”

“...I’m sorry.” Rainbow, for some reason, felt the urge to say. “But he killed one of mine. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.”

The changeling turned back to the wall. Her forehead, or rather her exoskeleton, tapped into the brickwork. It echoed, which Rainbow for some reason found kind of funny. “I’m sorry.” She returned, and Rainbow Dash was struck with the sheer absurdity of this situation.

Two creatures, on opposite sides of the war, apologizing to one another for killing each other's friends. If Twilight were here she’d probably liken this to a divine comedy.

“Alright so here’s what’s gonna happen,” the pegasus spoke, tone commanding and sure. “We’re gonna blow this building sky high. You guys,” she pointed behind her, “are gonna go stand well over there. You’re gonna lay down on the ground. You’re gonna shove your face in your forehooves, and you are not gonna look up until the whole damn building burned down. I’ve got a pony up there watching you, and if I think for a second you might have seen where we ran off to…” She let the implication hang in the air, which got a series of nervous nods from her captives.

“One more thing, changeling?” Dash commanded suddenly. “I need to speak to you privately.”

Although curious, said changeling gave a quiet nod. “It’s Sperber,” she replied. “Sparrow Hawk, in your language.”

Rolling her eyes, Rainbow Dash beckoned her to follow, stepping a good twenty or feet into the darkness of the night. “I think you were right earlier. I’m pretty sure somepony set you up.”

“Set me up?” She hovered on the leeward of one of the big metal crates. Rainbow did know they were transformers, but they just looked like crates to her.

Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Look, I’m not an expert. But, they put you out here with a hooffull of rookies, in an area they know the E.L.F. are operating in, guarding an important power station. With your small unit size and lack of reinforcements, it all fits. Not to mention we had intel on exactly where to go to blow you guys up.”

The changeling, or Sparrow, considered this. Her hoof tapped at the bottom of her chin. “Why are you…telling me this?”

Rainbow Dash shrugged. “I figure if you pissed off a changeling officer you must be worth keeping around.” Then, she shook her head. “I don’t know. Consider it repayment for not making me kill anypony today.”

Sparrow faced away from Rainbow, leaning against the transformer. She sighed softly and looked over her ponies. Normally, she’d be hyper-aware of putting her back to the enemy like this, but by now she’d just stopped caring. “I’m not gonna give you anything in return for this,” she warned. “If you want me to give you intel on my allies, you can forget it.”

Rainbow’s wings shrugged. “Like I said, repayment. We’re square now.” Sighing, the pegasus stretched her wings. “Sundancer!” She called over the rain. “Time to go!” in the distance she heard an annoyed and stallionish grunt of acknowledgement. It seemed he was still in a pissy mood.

As Rainbow’s Wings extended, Sparrow spoke up again. “If I ever have the chance, Ms Dash, I will repay your mercy here.”

The pegasus smirked. “Just make sure you have a chance to. Don’t be too busy looking at us that some changeling shoots you in the back.” She gave a hoof salute and took to the sky.

Rainbow hovered above the field, watching to make sure the line of ponies moved to where she’d indicated. Then, she zipped back down to the broken window, pulled the pin on a frag grenade and chucked it in.

It was very rare for Rainbow Dash that she got to leave a mission smiling. But, as she dropped by Daisy’s ledge, sat next to her and Sundancer, and watched as that changeling power station exploded from its base and caught fire, she found herself smiling.

“I’m sorry.” Sundancer’s voice carried. He sighed indulgently and rubbed his forehead with a wing. “Out of line, I know. Questioning orders.”

“I would have thought you’d be happy, Sunny.” Daisy jostled him. “We completed the mission and none of us got hurt. That’s all that matters, right?”

“Y-yeah, I just.” He rolled his wings. “I dunno. That was our chance to get a super dangerous changeling flyer and we just…let it slip by.” He leaned back from the ledge, sighing upwards into the rain. “What happens if, tomorrow, she decides she needs to regain her honor by murdering one of our patrols? If she’s anything like that other one she could probably do that alone.”

“I think I have to answer that question with a question.” Dash thoughtfully returned. “If you’d gunned down defenseless ponies, would you be happier right now?”

Sundancer was quiet for a couple seconds. “...point.” He admitted, begrudgingly. “Ah, fuck this shit’s hard. This was alot easier when we just shot the bugs.”

Daisy quickly cut in. “It’s a good fireworks show, Ardy, but we really should go. They’ll be sending reinforcements soon.”

Nodding, Dash agreed to both of her friends. “Yeah,” she stood and let her wings extend. “Let’s go see if the Major General had any luck with her super secret mission.”

Stonewall was usually lit by the dull amber glow of ponies crowding around a myriad of little campfires. Though there was this general atmosphere of ‘this sucks’ there was a camaraderie in it. A sort of ‘at least we’re here together’ attitude. Ponies would sit with each other and laugh, they’d joke and tell war stories, and some of those stories would even be true.

From the sky tonight, the camp was dark, save for the headlights of a stolen changeling transport truck illuminating a bunch of figures lined up against the titular Stonewall. Part of an old equestrian temple, Dash assumed. Just some old ruins in the deep woods.

“Is that Drab?” From her back right, Sundancer shouted over the stinging rain. “What’s she up to?”

Rainbow squinted. Atop the truck’s hood, although her coat and the darkness meant she was camouflaged against it, she could make out the general throwing her hooves around animatedly. “Some kinda speech I guess. Wanna say hi?”

“I think I’ll just turn in for the night!” Daisy called over, positioned back left. Her brow furrowed from the effort of ferrying her radio pack. “You guys have fun!” Daisy spoke a bit too quickly. Rainbow just chalked it up to fatigue.

Sundancer and Rainbow gave Daisy a goodbye hoof-salute and banked downwards to catch the tail end of the speech.

Rainbow immediately wished she’d gone with Daisy.

“Disloyal!”

The forming crowd, at least fifty earth and unicorn ponies chanted the word like a gathering storm. Atop the truck hood, Olive Drab threw her hoof in the air and pumped it. “Traitors!”

“Traitors!” Answered the crowd, the word spreading like a virus from one pony to the next.

Rainbow’s eyes finally fell upon the line of ponies and she felt her blood run cold. There were two lines of soldiers. One, holding machine guns, wearing old Equestrian uniforms, joining in the raucous chanting.

Another, eight changeling heer soldiers and pony conscripts, pressed into the unfeeling ruin walls. It was just like at the start of the war. She found herself slowing to a hover, watching, unable to tear her eyes away. She saw the faces of the prisoners. Their expressions ranged from terror, despair, and stoic acceptance, and Rainbow Dash hated it.

“Celestia…” Sundancer whispered beside her. “They’re not gonna…”

One of the ponies shouted above the rain. Rainbow Dash couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. It was a stallion in heer gray. He seemed to be pleading. Olive Drab wore a sick and twisted smile as she ordered one of her own pony soldiers to gun him down.

Lightning cracked across the sky and thunder screamed, drowning out the cry as machine gun fire ripped the stallion’s head in two. He fell back, bloody, crimson mixing with rainwater. The gathering crowd cheered.

“Celestia!” Sundancer growled, covering his eyes with a forehoof. “Dash!” He called over the storm. “What…what’s…we--”

Rainbow Dash shook her head wordlessly.

“But we have to do something! This isn’t-- you said we shouldn’t be like--” Another gunshot cut him off. This time it hit one of the changelings. Blood spattered on the ruin wall and his body fell into the mud.

Sundancer grabbed onto her withers as he floated in front of her, hovering wings “How are we gonna sit by and watch this!?”

“Everypony here was hurt by the changelings in some way.” Dash’s voice was resigned and quiet over the storm. If Sundancer hadn’t been hovering right in front of her he wouldn’t have heard her. “I guess this is how they celebrate a victory.”

“Celebrate!?” He bore his teeth. “But you just told me--”

“I’m not their flight lead, Sundancer. I can’t stop them.”

“But--”

The line of submachine guns began to sing an aria of mad violence. Changeling manufactured bullets ripped into the remaining disarmed and surrendered soldiers. Gunfire joined with thunder as bullets slammed into the wall, spent casings clattering to the ground beneath a torrent of fire. Rainbow Dash closed her eyes.

When she opened them again the heer gray uniforms were painted lines of deep, dark red. The rain pooled like an ocean of scarlet around the gathered bodies. Then, the crowd of ponies broke out into rowdy cheers.

“Goddess,” Sundancer choked. “It’s fucking Acornage all over again.”

Rainbow saw Olive Drab look up. “Daaaash!” Apparently the gunfire had thrown enough light over the camp to make her visible. “Get your flank down here you beautiful mare!”

“You should…tell Daisy. Tell her not to come outside for a bit.” Rainbow whispered apologetically. Sundancer nodded, quickly taking wing and zipping out of sight.

Then, Rainbow brought her hover lower until she thunked onto the truck’s hoof. “Ma’am.” She threw up a hoof salute.

Olive Drab practically hugged her, and very nearly heaved her off the hood with the force of her throwing her forehoof around her barrel. “This, everypony!” She shouted, bellowing the words, and the soldiers quieted down. “This is a hero!”

Another set of cheers began to sound before she quickly quieted it by shushing with a hoof. “Because of her blowing the hell out of the local substation, my colts got in and out with the bugs none the wiser. So I’m tellin’ you, you worthless grunts! It is because of Rainbow Dash that tonight, every single objective we set out to do was completed…with no casualties!”

Her expression darkened with a lick of her lips, and she threw a hoof over her shoulder towards the ruin wall. “And we even got a few prisoners!” This earned a bunch of chuckles from the crowd which Rainbow dropped her ears at.

The ‘celebrations’ continued long into the night after that. Defying the weather, Olive Drab ordered a party. They’d broken open the old wine casks in the ruin cellar and handed out aged ancient equestrian stouts. Music was being played, ponies were laughing, singing, and dancing. As if everypony just…didn’t bat an eye at executing surrendering soldiers.

Sundancer and Daisy Chain hadn’t returned. Dash understood, but as the mare of the hour, she had an obligation. They’d expect her to regale them with the tale of her heroic victory against insurmountable odds. Instead, she just lied. Rainbow Dash’s story was that they’d snuck in, cut open the gas valve, then blown it up without ever even personally dispatching a guard.

Olive had reassured her that surely she got a few in the explosion. Dash nodded and said “I hope so.”

It was one of the worst nights of her life. Being called a hero while being responsible for an atrocity was like a great cosmic joke. As if the clouds had parted and Celestia herself had ordained it.

Some time later, Dash had managed to sequester herself from the cheering crowd and had found a hidden corner between a couple lesser used supply tents. There, she sat upon an old ammo crate, and nursed her sorrows with a dusty bottle of wine. She’d never been much of a drinker but tonight the burn was a welcome distraction.

She’d just gotten comfortable when Olive Drab tracked her down. “Dash.” The voice was commanding, and she very nearly leapt to her hooves at attention. “Are you trying to hide from us?” It accused.

Dash didn’t have the energy left to deny it, though she wanted to. Instead, she drew her eyes up into the dark clouds of the Hightower, and let out a long sigh. “I just…” She wavered, second guessing herself-- but this is what makes Equestria great. They listen to ponies when they have problems. They try to fix them. “I feel bad about…those soldiers. They surrendered. That was a-- that was a war crime, ma’am! W-with respect.”

Rainbow expected anger, but Drab only smiled. “Fire with fire, Dash. You were at Acornage, right?” Glancing over her shoulder, the earth pony slipped in between the tents and sat in front of her. It was quite cramped. “I wasn’t. But I remember the headlines. I remember the pictures.”

Rainbow, holding a bottle in her wing, cradled it to her chest like a shield between her and her superior. “I-- I guess, but aren’t we supposed to be better than them?”

“Oh!” Olive chuckled heavily. “Boy, you wouldn’t believe how many times we had this argument back in Manehattan.” The earth pony got comfortable, laying on her side, tail flicking out. “Look, whenever we take Equestria back, I give you my word things will go back to the way they were. Harmony again, right? But for right now…we can’t afford to handle war with filly’s gloves. If we let those soldiers go, they could have reported our location, and then we’d all be wiped out.”

Dash tapped her bottle with a forehoof. “I…noticed you were enjoying it.” She admitted. “You were smiling.”

Her countenance was generally stern, unmoving, and supremely confident. Yet, at that, Rainbow saw a subtle flicker of annoyance cross her features. “I was.” She admitted, leaning back. “That’s not gonna satisfy you is it?”

Suddenly nervous, Dash shook her head.

“Alright. I’m gonna tell you a story,” She sat up and brushed her withers with a hoof. “And then you’re gonna go back out there and be treated like the hero you are.” She pressed said hoof to her throat, cleared it, and began her tale.

“I was assigned to the defense of Canterlot during the war. Shining Armour had been stationed in the Crystal Empire, so the honor fell upon me. For most of the war we did practise drills and broke up drunken bar fights between Canterlonian nobility.

“But the ponies there were good ponies. They were solid soldiers, some more concerned with the privileges of rank than the responsibility, but by and large we were all dedicated to Equestria. I got to know them really well during the war. I trusted them completely. I would have gone through tartarus and back for each buck under my command.”

She dug in the ground with her hoof, drawing a big horseshoe-like ‘U’ shape. “Then we got word the line was falling back to Canterlot. We learned we, the reserve division that was essentially a glorified police force,” she tapped the interior of the ‘U’ “was going to be the last stand of Equestria. We knew, if we fell, everypony behind us was doomed.”

Outside of the horseshoe, she drew a series of smaller circles, then from those circles she drew arrows encircling the city. “Then ponies got nervous. They got scared. Started looting, stealing. We couldn’t keep order. I had nobles demanding I put soldiers by their personal homes to guard them.” She bore her teeth at the idea.

“When the bugs finally got there, it was chaos.” She criss-crossed the arrows, over the mountains behind the city. “Surrounded us on all sides. Jaegers in the mountains, armour on the field. Cut us off from the army. They knew they couldn’t take the city, so they dug in and besieged us.” She sighed, looking skyward for the stars and being met only with the overhead clouds.

“Twilight Sparkle kept herself awake for seventeen days. Celestia, I don’t know how. Magic or willpower. Her shield was the only thing giving us hope. We were paranoid, shooting each other because somepony stepped outside for a piss and we were afraid he’d come back a changeling. But we looked up at that big purple shield, proof the princess was watching over us, and we knew we’d be alright.”

“Then it fell.” She crossed an ‘X’ over an empty space in the hoofshoe. “She tried. Celestia, she tried, but the bugs just never stopped shooting. Every hour of every day there were hundreds of artillery shells landing on it.”

“The bastards gave us an ultimatum then. They knew the princess was out of juice, and they knew that we knew we didn’t have a chance. The fucking-- that changeling bastard got up on a tank and shouted through a megaphone. Told us to surrender or else they’d ‘be forced to remove us’” She rolled her eyes. “Have you ever met me, Rainbow Dash? Do you think I’d surrender?”

The prismatic pegasus shook her head in the negative.

“That’s right. So, I order us to move our supplies; fuel, food and ammunition into the mines. The plan was to retreat into the mountains and come up from under them, use the mines and tunnels to launch guerilla raids.”

Then, her hoof swiped another ‘X’ across the big empty space in the center of the horseshoe. “They couldn’t reach our supplies, so instead, they started bombing civilians.” She tapped the ground, eyes closed and looking skyward. “Massed artillery fire on civilian targets. The entire eastern section of Canterlot was turned into rubble.”

Finally, Olive Drab met her eyes once more. “I stopped counting the dead after the fifth filly corpse.” She moved her hoof, brushing her map away into the wind. “Then we had a little mutiny. Half my ponies wanted to surrender in case they bombed the rest of the city. That side won.”

Rainbow Dash felt her head in a dull buzz. “I’m…sorry.” She managed

Then, she stood, flicking her mane. “And that, Rainbow Dash, is why I am going to kill every changeling in Equestria. That’s why I’m going to take Canterlot back. That’s why I’m going to rip that fucking bug right out of his shell when I find him. And that’s why you shouldn’t feel bad when I have the traitors who serve them executed.”

Rainbow knew it was selfish, but she couldn’t stop herself. Since the war, she’d put the thoughts out of her brain. She didn’t like to imagine all the horrible situations her friends could be in, but she could not stop. “Do you know what happened to Twilight?”

“Sorry.” Olive Drab shrugged. “You’d have to ask the bugs.”

Rainbow felt her teeth grind. “Which one?”

“The one that led the Canterlot attack would be a good start.” Olive Drab darkly smiled when she saw the rage in Rainbow Dash’s eyes. “Promise you’ll do this other job for me? I’ll tell you his name.”

Rainbow Dash stood up, hoof pressed to her heart. She braced her legs in the dirt. “I swear,” she growled. “I’ll do everything I can for you.”

“No matter what spitfire says?” Olive Drab had adopted a smug smile.

“As long as it gets Twilight back.” Her cheek twitched.

Olive trotted up to her, wrapped a forehoof around her withers, and gave her a comforting, friendly pat. She leaned into Dash’s ear, and whispered in a hiss reminiscent of a wild black viper.

“Generalmajor Jachs.”

Author's Note

You may have noticed some tune ups in the earlier chapters along with this one, the description, and a new title.

I wanted to call this Pax Chrysalia originally, but I felt like my idea wasn't worthy of it. Now, I've outlined the entire story. I have a good idea of what I want to do. And I like it. I've got a surprise coming with the next chapter for you too.

As always, comments and likes convince me put pen to paper extraordinarily effectively! Thank you for your support so far I hope you'll stay with me to the end.

Visitors

“What a story!” Butter Scotch trotted around the room excitedly, furiously going over her notes. “To think, another battle at Canterlot is lost to history!”

Jachs had settled his nerves, colonizing the couch and leaning upon one of the armrests. “It was just a skirmish,” he corrected, “but I think it…well, I think it went a long way to showing the ponies that Chrysalis would step in to defend them. Even if, at that moment, it was against their own army.” He chuckled disarmingly, his bright green eyes alight as he glanced out through a window. His brow furrowed and he bit his lower lip.

Butter didn’t notice. “I worry I may…ahem, arouse the annoyance of uh…someling? Or is it some…pony?” Jachs met her gaze with an arched eyeridge. “But would you let me see them? Professional curiosity, of course.”

“The-- ah.” His forehoof went to his barrel, before crossing his chest protectively. “Isn’t that a bit personal for an interview?”

The reporter did not, apparently, care. She just shrugged her haunches and sat back on her hinds, smiling expectantly, and staring directly at Jachs’ chest. “Pretty please?” She asked, voice thickly sweet like her namesake. Suddenly the Generalmajor felt like a piece of meat.

“Alright…” He managed, though with a snort of righteous indignation. He slipped a forehoof into his coat and Butter sat up like she’d seen a ghost. Her eyes did not leave his lapel as he dropped his coat from his withers. “This one,” Jachs brought a fore to his chest. “Is the only one that stuck. The one that almost killed me.” He had borne his chest to the mare. Featureless changeling chitin, black and smoothe, except for a large crack across his right lung. It looked like someone had driven a piton into him. “Even sticks when I shapeshift. I’ll always have a scar or a cut there no matter the form I take.”

Butter Scotch was utterly and completely enraptured. She sat stock still, like she was watching a theater play, eyes locked upon Jachs’ chest. “Dashing.” She simply opined. Any more thoughts on the subject she did not vocalize.

“Yes…it’s uh, good that I don’t have much reason to do that, now.” Added the changeling, clearing his throat and closing his coat back.

“Yes! Quite.” Added Butter quickly after, shaking herself awake and banishing the sudden onrush of red to her cheeks. “Ahem. Subject change-- I believe this is when you finally met Marsilio? And…the other one. Mister Finicious Vesali?”

“Finicus.“ Jachs smiled, settling back into the couch, quietly thankful. “I’d known both before that day, actually, but I suppose I can clarify.”

-From “Memoirs Of A Changed Changeling” by Herr Jachs, Canterlot press, Equestrian Protectorate, 1,045.

Jachs felt the creeping tendrils of wakefulness drag him back to consciousness despite his kicking and screaming. His eyes opened. The first thing he saw was his own face reflected back at him through an empty bottle of vodka. Then, the two other empty bottles tipped over onto his desk.

He closed his eyes again, braced his forehooves against his desk, and forced himself to stand. The Generalmajor stumbled, his head pounded, but he kept himself upright.

Jachs couldn’t remember much of last night except a vague cold sensation in his chest that comes with nightmares. Always some atrocity he’d only heard about. Something he tacitly supported by aligning himself with Chrysalis. Something that, even if he didn’t personally commit them he still bore the blame.

Then, there was the one that he was personally responsible for…

He felt fire in his throat. Jachs stumbled to his trash can, leaned over it, and hurled. He coughed up his lungs as the sickly orange goop fell from his maw. His hoof found his throat, still coughing, and he fell against the far wall.

His head felt like it was splitting. The changeling ran his hooves over the carpeted office floor, focusing on his breathing. Slowly, in and out. He smacked his lips and realized he was violently thirsty. The rational part of his brain said the shattering headache was likely from dehydration. The other part told him it was just a fraction of what he deserved.

Jachs tried to stand again, to will himself back to work, but he stumbled once more. His hooves scrambled for the side of his desk and dragged off a bunch of logistics requests. He missed, and he found himself crashing back to the floor before slamming into it with a soft ‘thump’.

He marvelled at what a sorry sight he must be. The inheritor of Canterlot, splayed about the floor like a vagrant. The changeling almost laughed. Instead, his magic hovered down one of the vodka bottles and drew it up, before he remembered it was empty. Jachs glared at the thing as if in blame. He dropped it, it fell by his hooves, and he tried to stand again. With the sick churning sensation in his gut, he couldn’t manage it. .

So, he checked his watch. It was three in the morning.

He didn’t want to get up anyway.

Thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk.

The knocking roused Jachs back to consciousness just in time for Alcippe to open the door. He would have liked for the capacity to be embarrassed. He’d lost that.

“Queen’s Mercy!” Alcippe exclaimed, eyes-wide. She brought up her hoof to her nose and her snout wrinkled. “Jachs…” she cringed. Her eyes found the bottle, then the ones still on his desk, then him. Then, they narrowed.

“M’fine.” He whined into the carpet, crossing a foreleg in front of his head to rest upon. He closed his eyes back.

“You’re not fine!” Alcippe immediately leapt into action, gathering the glass bottles and depositing them into the trash. Noticing what was in there, she made a supremely disgusted face that made Jachs feel even more guilty. “What the hell is the matter with you?” She reeled, tone both a question and an accusation.

The generalmajor planted his forehooves upon the carpet and brought himself up to a half-stand upon his front legs. “Bad dream.” He mused quietly. “You don’t have to do that.”

Snorting, she hovered one of the bottles in front of him. Apparently there’d been a fourth somewhere he missed. Jachs felt a fresh sting of pain cross his head. “This stuff is gonna kill you,” she glared, carefully hovering it into the trash can lest it cause a splash. The sound nearly made the Generalmajor hurl again.

Changing the subject, he shrugged. “What are you here for? Is there a problem?” Jachs said, noticing she wasn’t carrying any thing of critical importance on her person this one single time.

“There isn’t one, besides your stink. You have visitors,” she quickly replied. “And you’re in no condition to meet them.”

Jachs didn’t reply. He stood, and caught the heavy whiff of alcohol on him, now that she’d mentioned it. Apparently he’d gone noseblind to it sometime last night.

“If I have to--”

“I’ll tell them you need a few hours.” She interrupted, rounding on him, trotting in front of him and jamming a hoof into his chest. Jachs felt Alcippe’s cold gaze on him. “Generalmajor Jachs,” she started. He suddenly felt like a foal whose mother had just used his full name. “I’m telling you as your friend. You have got to stop this.”

His ears fell. He threw a glance over his shoulder, at the mess he’d made of his office, the rank stench of alcohol and bile, and he turned back to his oberst. “I don’t know if I can,” he huffed. His breath must have smelt like death but Aclippe didn’t show her disgust. “You know…”

“I know.” She leapt up, planted her forehooves on his withers, and looked him square in the eye. “But this can’t keep happening. What happens if you’re drunk and we’re in trouble? Say the Hivesmarschall comes down here, decides you’re too drunk to command, and replaces you on the spot? It’s not just you that you have to worry about. Everypony, and now, damn near every changeling in Canterlot is counting on you. You can’t falter like this. Not again.” Her cadence was calm and measured, explaining the predicament logically.

Jachs fell on his ass and cast his gaze up at the ceiling. He found it remarkably hard to meet her eyes. “I’ll try,” he managed.

“Trying isn’t good enough. Jachs, look at me. Look at me.” She poked him in the chest again and, like a magnet, Jachs felt his gaze drawn to hers. “You need to find another way to cope. Something healthier. Write poetry or something.”

Jachs would have laughed, but Alcippe had apparently realized how silly that was. She shook her head. “Look, if you have to drink, just…do it with friends, right? Ask Second Wind out to a bar or something so you don’t drink yourself to death.”

“Not you?” Jachs smirked.

Alcippe pursed her lips in a little pout. She looked off to the side and said, in the most tactful way, “I would too, of course, but I feel like you need to branch out. Maybe go visit the barracks, hang out with the volunteers and such. You’re getting stuck in your own head.” She finished, returning a smile. “Besides, maybe it’ll do you good to see how the 96th is getting along with the volunteers.”

“Maybe I’ll do that,” The Generalmajor said, rolling his wings. “And get some water. What about you?”

“I’ll distract your visitors and clean up,” Alcippe bit her lower lip. Jachs raised a hoof in protest but she shut him down with a harsh look. “Just do your thing for now-- and don’t do it again, and we’ll call it even.”

Jachs quietly filed away one more he owed Alcippe. That’s two to zero. He did not like to accrue debts.

Another shower and another preening session, and Jachs had made himself decent. He didn’t often use his room at the palace for more than a quick shower besides. He saw himself in the mirror and frowned, getting a sense of deja vu.

He turned away, sure it wouldn’t end exactly the same.

With a polite nod to Ms. Reza, who’d drawn gate guard duty that day, he stepped out into the streets of Canterlot proper.

Unlike the other commissariot commanders, Jachs did not feel the need to travel with guards anymore. It wasn’t that he was completely sure he wouldn’t be the victim of an assassination attempt, but the fact of the matter is with the recent resource expenditure on the rebel’s hooves, he really doubted they could do it again so soon. It’d take them time to get more agents in place.

He would seldom leave the palace, but he did on occasion; mostly to visit the expensive liquor shop in the royal quarter that imported all kinds of esoteric alcohols. Still, this had the curious effect of making him seem ‘approachable’ to the common pony.

He’d doffed his cap to a mare who waved him down, asking him if it was okay to speak the princess’s names. “Of course,” he replied. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Still, he mentally filed that away to clarify with the garrison later. If he’d completely forbidden Equestrian culture from memory that’d just make it more attractive to be remembered, written down in hidden scrolls or talked about by the hushed fireside. It was remarkably hard to kill an idea, so, he’d not tried.

Generalmajor Jachs had just turned a corner after bidding her good day, hooves tapping into the sidewalk, when he slammed into a unicorn mare. Pale of coat, purple of mane and of eye-- his eyes crossed as he stumbled backwards, hastily blurting out an apology.

She had stepped one single hoof backwards, as if even her stumble was regally calculated. The mare had a figure that most reminded Jachs of a much smaller, much more brightly coloured Queen Chrysalis. Slender, and though not quite the size of Herself, she was taller than him by a good couple inches. Her mane and tail were a glorious, vibrant purple that seemed to glitter like starlight in the dark. Her eyes were a similar shade. “No harm done, Generalmajor.” the mare smiled curiously. Her accent was thickly feminine and posh-- Manehattenite? A changeling rank sounded wrong in that voice.

Jachs took note of her horn, similarly slender and pointed. Currently glowing. It stopped as he glanced at it. His first thought was that he’d slammed into her and made her drop something, but a swift downward glance dispelled that notion.

He fixed his cap. “I am sorry, regardless. I’m in a bit of a--” Then, he did a double take. For a split second, he thought that he was looking at Rarity. Her face was on enough wanted posters for him to recognize it. It was almost right, but not quite. This unicorn was too tall and the cutie mark, which was a two-dimensional version of her own slender horn, was completely wrong. “A hurry.” He finished. “Have we met?”

“No!” She laughed, a posh and vibrant giggle like the colours of her mane. “But I hope we shall meet in the future. Ta-ta!” With that, she trotted around him, and hooked her tail over his back. It dragged along his back, falling down over his uniform and his flank. Even though the heavy durable stitching of his officer’s uniform he felt an electric tingle along his exoskeleton.

He swiftly gasped and glanced back at her, but with a demure smile that said ‘oopsy’ and at the same time teased him for his reaction, she turned and rounded the corner out of sight. He supposed it was really not worth worrying about, but he didn’t know how they would hopefully ‘meet in the future’ without the purple-maned mare giving him her name.

Shaking off the strangeness of that encounter, he continued on a little more cautious of step.

The garrison barracks was once the headquarters for the canterlot cabs, back when they were still carriages pulled by pegasi instead of rolling steel machines. A reasonably sized office building now several cots packed together like sardines, stark white in the Canterlonian style, with a number of adjoining garages and open parking spaces. Which, right now, held a number of brand new and shining infantry half tracks. Jachs assumed his ‘special orders’ were secured from public eyes beyond closed garage doors.

The 96’th Mechanized Division, ‘Canterlonians.’ Made up of changelings from his old jaeger team and a few sympathizing faces from around the Queendom. And they were his to command. He could still hardly believe it! He took a moment to marvel at the building and the vehicles and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Who knew getting shot could be so lucky?

Even out here the Canterlot garrison’s attitude was on display. Changeling and pony soldiers, wearing the same uniforms, leaned against ivory walls and chattered casually when their superiors weren’t looking. Jachs caught the eye of a Jaeger he’d known back at Vanhoover and the pair shared the typically masculine upward nod of recognition.

Inside was a small lobby area for the everyday citizen needing to visit. The receptionist, a staff sergeant by rank, spotted him immediately and waved him down. Oberfeldwebel in his language, but given that she was a pony, that didn't feel appropriate.

“Generalmajor.” She gave a perfunctory nod. “What brings you all the way down here?” She was a professional looking pony. Ex-equestrian military, if Jachs had to guess. Her mane was cut in a bob and she wore a set of reading glasses. The Heer gray uniform looked at home on her dark blue coat.

“Two reasons. One, a surprise inspection. Two, I want to see the kommandant.” He professionally replied. “May I?” He flicked his snout towards the double doors that marked the entrance to the barracks proper.

“No one’s gonna stop you, sir.” She chuckled, settling in her seat. “Would you like me to show you around?”

Jachs dismissed her with a hoof wave. “That won’t be necessary. I’d find it funner if I could explore.” He confidently replied, strolling by. Of course, he wasn’t really there to inspect them. He just wanted to see them.

The barracks combined the headquarters of the garrison and the 96th mechanized changeling military division ‘Canterlonians’. They’d been set up so both forces worked in, ironically, harmony. The garrison would be the shield and the mechanized would be the sword.

Both the mechanized and garrison divisions were made up of a collection of pony and changeling soldiers. Everyling Jachs had served with at some point in his career. Jaegers, friends from boot camp, sympathizing soldiers and the like. Everypony was a bit more complicated. He’d left that in Second Wind’s hooves, but as he stepped into the long hall with several adjoining rooms hastily converted into bunkrooms, he knew he’d been right to put his trust in the pegasus.

It was like he’d stepped into the future. There was one changeling soldier guarding the door that saw his cap and, with widened eyes, quickly saluted. After that, he took the chance to peer into a couple doorways. They had used to be little office spaces. Now, with doors removed they served as cramped but serviceable living arrangements. Ponies and changelings chatted and joked with one another.

In one room, they were disassembling an Equestrian army service pistol, with a pony leaning over it giving instructions to the attending changelings, who were paying exacting attention.

In another, a couple bugs in a garrison uniform were having a push up competition with a pegasus pony in the mechanized uniform, who was only using his wings. Jachs felt his buzz at the sight and a sympathy pain shot through them.

Laughter echoed from down the hall and Jachs perked up his ears. He followed the noise, past a number of stunned and gawking soldiers who rushed to salute him. As he walked, he lifted a hoof to his lips and ‘shushed’ any exclamations. He wanted to see what this was about.

The Generalmajor found his way to an open area towards the back of the building. Here, a few wooden tables were spread around, and a small kitchen area was set up. This must be the mess, he reasoned.

His eyes were drawn to the center of the room, and to a carbon copy of himself. Dressed to the nines in an officer’s uniform, strutting about on top of a table, bright green eyes scanning the crowd. It was a decent imitation. The uniform, the eyes, even the divots and holes in his legs and horn were right. Still, he knew this wasn’t an experienced infiltrator. The Generalmajor marched, he did not strut. And he certainly didn’t flip his snout upward in such a sassy manner.

He’d begun to draw a couple eyes. A silence was falling on the back of the crowd as more and more attending soldiers glanced back and saw the real deal. The tension was rising but he had no desire to cut it just yet. Jachs smirked, and leaned against one of the tables flitting his ears to the changeling, and listened.

“My little ponies,” Said the imposter Jachs, his hoof extended to a trio of unicorn mares chuckling to one another. “It is-- and I say this with the utmost, most truest, most heartfeltestestest-”

Somepony in the crowd shouted ‘boo’ and another yelled out “Get to it!”

The changeling made a show of holding a forehoof to his chest and pouting. “Please, work with me!” His snout flicked again, making a show of pouting to the crowd. “Only by living together, side-by-side, can we as equines come to know true prosper--”

Louder this time, somepony shouted “Get to it!” Then a flash of metal crossed the air as a metal spoon ‘thwacked’ the imposter right on the snout. It fell to the table with a metallic ring.

“I’m trying!” He huffed, brushing his shoulders. “That is to say, it is with great pride, I am announcing that, in the interests of ‘species desegregation’...” A sudden silence fell over the room. Jachs could almost the heckler’s brow furrow. “I am announcing the changeling-pony breeding program!”

A chorus of groans sounded above the crowd. A specific mare, blue of mane and coat, slammed her hoof into her face. Whom ‘Jachs’ immediately singled out with a lifted and pointing hoof. “And this young mare is going to be our first volunteer!”

One of the changelings in the crowd, rolling his eyes so hard they threatened to fall out of their sockets, spoke up. “Give it a rest, Copper!”

“Not if we were the last two equines on Equus, ‘Generalmajor’” The mare retorted. “Get off the table before you trip, dummkopf.”

“You’re breaking my heart, private first class Aqua Ray.” Jachs announced himself with a confident strut, shoving aside some of the slack jawed ponies. As Jachs trotted up, it was like parting a sea. The room got whisper quiet as he made his way into an opening circle. “Given the circumstances though, I think I’ll get over it.”

“G-gen--”

“That’s…”

“Really…?”

“Officer on deck!” The violently shouted command caused everyone to immediately stand at attention. Like a great wave, hooves met hooves as the room audibly ‘clacked’ with the sheer force of a legion of soldiers moving as one. Everyone stood right where they were. Even ‘Jachs’ who looked like he’d just seen the face of the goddess. He looked rather silly up there on the table

Second Wind stormed into the room like a yellow tornado. Fury glittered from his brow as he took to the sky, hovering above the crowd and floating right in front of the imposter. “You wanna be an officer do you, soldier?” His voice was deep and dark as syrup, and foreboding as the night. Even the real Jachs felt himself stand a little straighter.

“No, sir!” Said the imposter, throat quivering.

“Oh!” Second Wind chortled. “So, you just want everyone to listen to you without any of the responsibilities.” The pegasus’s voice was like a bowstring pulled taut.

Unable to reply, the changeling only looked down in shame.

“Private Copper, is it?” Jachs took wing as well, setting himself down upon the table. They looked like mirrors of one another, except one changeling was very nearly quaking. “Although your proposal for a ‘changeling-pony breeding program’ is interesting, I’m afraid we simply lack the resources.”

The Kommandant blinked. “A what?”

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Jachs chuckled. “Yes, Mr. Copper here has some interesting ideas he was sharing with the class. Why don’t you tell Kommandant Wind what you told the crowd earlier?”

From somewhere in the line, somepony snickered. Jachs had a pretty good idea of which one.

Silence met the two officers as the changeling clammed up. Jachs wore one of the biggest grins he’d ever worn. “Nervous now, Copper?” Jachs’ grin only widened until he was smiling like a half-mad bug.

With a sudden flash of green flame, the form of ‘copper’ was revealed. The standard black-carapaced blue-eyed bug of Chrysalis’s brood. Even in his natural form, he didn’t seem much calmer. “I’m sorry I spoke out of turn, sirs!” He bowed to Jachs like the Generalmajor was a prince. “It was-was a joke, and one in poor taste, and I’m very-very-very sorry!”

“You think you are.” Second Wind’s nose flicked in anger. “But you're about to be.”

“I’m sorry about that, sir.” Kommandant Wind led Jachs to his own office, up on the second floor. “They work well together, but they get in stupid games of grab-flank all the time in their off hours. It’s like herding cats. I’ll wring it out of ‘em eventually, but I swear, it’s embarrassing.”

“No harm no foul. I remember Copper. He was always a bit of a trouble maker, but he's a good bug really.” Jachs settled opposite the Kommandant. The pegasus’s office was about the same size as his own, though he’d gotten a much nicer big leather chair. It was once the manager’s room, after all. “And it was kind of nice to see the species united. Even if it was to denigrate me.” Jachs noted, with a hint of good humor.

The pegasus nodded, wings ruffling. “I take it your opinion is good then?”

Jachs shrugged, settling in his chair. “If they’re living and working together, that’s already a miracle. The fact it's been as long as it has without any minor wars breaking out is a load off my back.”

Second Wind withdrew a small piece of paper from one of his desk drawers, balanced expertly between a couple flight pinions. “Yes, I believe that’s your chickens coming home to roost, sir.” He said with a casual smile.

“Pardon me?”

“The consequences of your actions.” He retorted, sliding across a paper. Jachs took it in his magic.

It detailed the thought process of a Ms. Gilded Lance. Who, after spending weeks suffering persecution in Vanhoover, had hopped a train and come here. First, just to get away from the changelings there, but as she’d come to live and work in Canterlot she’d begun to feel a sense of normalcy. She’d gone from a quiet shut in just trudging through existence, being afraid to step outside, to having friends again. Finally, she spoke of having a life again. There was one phrase that particularly jumped out at him.

“It feels like Equestria again.” Jachs read it aloud, feeling a single tear well up in his eye. He held the paper to his chest, and let out a long breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. That one phrase was like imbibing a shot of purified and distilled Elation, better than any love he’d ever had.

“Thank you, Kommandant.” Jachs slid the paper back over, smiling. “I…feel I needed that.”

The pegasus brought his wings up and then they fell back down in a shrug.

Settling into his chair, Jachs had his eyes locked on the ceiling for a good few seconds, before recollection shot across his features. “Oh! Yes, what I had originally come down for.” He fished a small envelope, magically lifted in glowing green, and deposited it before the pegasus.

“It’s an invitation by the C.E.O. of Main Hive to a party.” The Generalmajor explained. “According to her, she’s a ‘prominent employer of ponies,’ so I thought you might like to come with me and make sure everything is on the up and up.”

Second Wind turned it over, rather roughly digging the envelope open with bare hooves. Skimming it quickly, he arched an eyeridge. “Oh. So I’d be your ‘plus one’?” He questioned, eyeridge arched with a smirk. “Now, isn’t that just inviting controversy?”

Jachs frowned quizzically before realization dawned on him, and a subtle flush flicked across the changeling’s cheeks. “Ah.” He bit his lower lip, clearly trying to find the correct phrase, as he stared hard into the Kommandant’s chest. He immediately realized this probably looked less like he was in thought and more like he was eying his friend up. “Fraternization among officers is against regulations-- and I am not inviting you on a date.” He finally clarified, the words coming more forcefully than he’d meant them to. “And-- I didn’t know you, er, ah. Were on that side of the battle line? Not that I have any issues.” He cleared his throat. “Among changelings, there isn’t really a concept of ‘sexuality’ per se.”

“Jachs.”

“Among us, well, seeing as how anyling could simply choose to be another gender, it comes down mainly to personal preference. Therefore,” The Generalmajor was quickly stumbling through his words. “The concepts of ‘gay’ or ‘straight’ are really more of a pony thing. We understand them, of course, but-”

“Generalmajor.” Second Wind tried interrupting, but Jachs silenced him with a hoof wave.

The words were coming like a storm now, escaping Jachs’ mouth in a fevered ramble with barely a breath in between. “But they simply do not exist among the changelings. All that to say, Kommandant, that I have no issues with your personal life and wholeheartedly support-”

“Jachs! I’m fucking with you.” Second Wind’s hoof fell upon the desk and he uproariously laughed. “You sound like a nervous foal.” His hoof went to his chest and he chuckled heartily. “Oh, Celestia. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flustered! Tripping over your words like that, hah.” That hoof that went to his eye and flicked away a salty tear. “Oh I think you made my day.”

The Generalmajor, inheritor and hero of Canterlot, averted his gaze and looked at the floor. “I-” He stuttered, tilting his head and bracing his teeth. “I like to run over possible conversations in my head before meeting someone. I quickly practice and practice them. I do it all the time. I was not expecting that.” Answered the changeling honestly. He blinked the confusion from his eyes. He was vaguely aware of heat upon his cheeks.

Rolling his eyes, Second Wind smirked. “Well, regardless, I’ll be happy to be your ‘date’” He joked. “Don’t expect me to show up in a ballgown dress, though. I don’t know a good enough tailor.”

“Your uniform will be fine.” Jachs returned, through gritted teeth, standing and straightening his shoulders after a few deep breaths. “You understand this conversation is now classified under opsec, yes?”

“Yes sir, Generalmajor sir.” The Kommandant made a show of saluting without standing, dextrously tucking the envelope back into his desk with a whing. “I will take your panicked blushing to my grave.”

The Generalmajor’s ear twitched. He didn’t particularly like that tone, but all the same he gave a polite nod and turned to beg his leave-- before stopping himself. “Actually, would you like to accompany me to the throne room? I do believe Alcippe is starting to miss you.”

Though it was subdued, Jachs saw an unreadable expression flash along Second Wind’s features. Jealousy? Confusion? Then, he snapped back to the neutral ‘diplomatic’ face they’d been trained to adopt in unfamiliar situations, which gave Jachs even more of an inkling as to why.

Second Wind immediately deflated. “That’s cruel.” He chuckled. “Alright, gimme a second to wrap this up.”

Changelings tend to be experts at emotions. They are often in perfect control over their own, able to identify and respond in kind to those emotions in others. While there are exceptions to the rule, It’s part of what makes them natural infiltrators.

So despite how utterly flabbergasted Jachs was at seeing a short changeling laying across Alcippe’s desk, throwing a little hoofball up and catching it with his magic, he did not vocalize it. Nor, despite his instincts telling him so, did he grab the little cretin and fling him outside on his oily little ear. Instead, he closed the grand throne room door behind him as Second Wind slid in, and deeply cleared his throat.

“Excuse me.” Said the Generalmajor, voice darkly intoned, but as the bright eyed bug flicked his eyes to him, he immediately lit up.

Second Wind stood beside Jachs, his eyes on the intruder as a million questions flashes across his face. He was in a guarded stance, wing hovering above a leg-holstered pistol.

“Jachs!” He caught the ball again as he leapt upwards. “Damn-- they told me you got a promotion, look at you bug!” The changeling almost sprinted towards him, before extending his right hoof. Jachs took it with a wide smile. The pair crossed their forehooves, met one another’s eyes, and pulled. Jachs had the advantage in strength, so the smaller changeling was tugged roughly into his chest in a hug.

“Finicus!” Jachs nearly shouted. One could hear the smile in his voice. “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you so soon.” He chuckled, breaking the hug. Finicus had sharp, eager eyes that looked back at him with chiding respect. Atop his head was a rare changeling frill, currently slicked back.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jachs saw the pegasus relax and roll his eyes, wing folding back up.

Finicus shrugged. “You owe me a shining, refurbished, reworked Equestrian weapons factory.” He smirked. “And…at a good price! You know, those panthers were an expensive favour.” He winked, his eyes flitting along Jachs’ uniform and then up to his cap.

“Right.” Jachs shoved him back, pushing him off. “A trade of favours.” He repeated, shaking his head. “You could finalize this from Vesalipolis, though. So why come all the way out personally?”

Suddenly, Jachs door opened, and out stepped a familiar looking bug flanked by his oberstleutnant. “Because mister Vesali is well acquainted with the substance I’m pursuing,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “Goodness, all that shouting…”

“Surgeon General Marsilio.” Jachs said respectfully, using the Ponish title to introduce him to Second Wind. “It has been too long, really.”

“Hasn’t it?” He said. “Years, I believe.”

Alcippe trotted around him and took her seat at her desk. “Here,” She withdrew a small vial from with a shining black locked case. It had a hoof-cuff on it, likely affixed to Marsilio some time ago. “Before anything else Marsilo wants you to try this.” It looked like a standard love vial, the kind they refined and stored harvested rations in. It was a clear glass tube, about an inch across, and about foot long with a stark black cap. Inside, a pinkish hazy substance, like a flowing cloud of pink bottled lightning swirled. Every few seconds the lightning pulsed, giving off a glow.

“Isn’t that just a love ration?” Second Wind asked, inspecting it from a healthy distance with a wrinkled snout.

“At first sight. Generalmajor, if you’d be so kind.” Marsilio nodded, dipping his head towards the object.

Finicus shook his head but said nothing.

Jachs shrugged, gripped it in his magic, and popped off the cap with his teeth. The cloud-like substance flowed into him as his parasitic magic latched onto it and drank deeply.

It was like being lit on fire. His entire body went limp as the sensations rolled over him. Happiness. Euphoria. True, requited, passionate love. It snaked through his veins, lit them alight in pleasure. “I-” He tried, tumbling to the marble floor in a heap. Even the momentary pain the fall brought on was immediately abated by the onrush of pleasure. His neurons fired in ecstatic pulses, sending his limbs twitching from the effort.

“Generalmajor!” Alcippe jumped from her desk.

“Jachs!” Second Wind likewise leapt to him, his fore around the changeling’s withers. “What the hell was in that!?” He held the prone bug. Jachs cried out, but the pain mixed with pure joy made it sound more like a mad cackle.

“Told you this’d happen.” Finicus snickered in Marsilio’s direction. “Never could hold your love. Eh, Jachs?”

“It’ll pass.” Marsilio shoed Second Wind away, who immediately bore his teeth. “I didn’t expect him to be so…overwhelmed. I’m sorry.”

Alcippe bore her teeth in a grimace. “There’s a reason the Generalmajor takes his rations in privacy, Doktor.”

“I’m fine!” Jachs managed, his body shuddering still yet. “Mercy. Fuck- is that,” he stammered, unable to stand. Every few moments one of his legs would twitch, like the phantom nerve spasms of a dying thing. “This is Elation…” he growled. “I should have you arrested for even having this!”

“No it is not.” Marsilio countered, lifting a hoof to rest upon his back. “But it is a very convincing forgery. Some of the strongest love I’ve ever seen.”

Alcippe, letting out an exhale, sat back down. “Visibly so, Doktor.” She let out an annoyed sigh. “You could have warned us.”

“You wouldn’t have taken it if I told you what it was.” Marsilio replied evenly, his hoof rubbing Jachs’ back. The oberstleutnant didn’t reply beyond a cold glare.

“Hold on, elation?” Second Wind interrupted. “Why’s everypony talking about this like it’s obvious what it is?”

Alcippe’s nostrils flared. “An extraordinarily illegal substance,” she explained. “Addictive too.”

“You understand that changelings feed on love, right?” Marsilio stood, addressing the Kommandant directly. “That’s the layponies’ version. In essence, changelings feed on the magic produced by love. Familial, romantic, friendship. There’s one specific type of love ponies produce that is extraordinarily rare and difficult to acquire.”

“The elation of getting a cutie mark.” Alcippe finished for him, shaking her head. “Elation At Cutie Mark Acquisition is far and away the strongest, most addictive, most…pleasurable type of love for a changeling.”

Second Wind’s eyes met hers with a dark scowl. “How do they harvest that?” He said, through gritted teeth.

“They don’t.” Marsilio replied. “The logistics in holding a foal in captivity and…inducing a cutie mark, solely to harvest the joy produced by such, it is--”

“Barbaric and stupid.” Finicus interjected, seeing the pegasus’s rising temper and interposing himself between the two. “Which is why we’re here to stop the production of whatever this is.” He upturned his forehooves in a surrendering gesture. “Don’t worry, buck. The good doctor’s a bit of an idiot with how he words things, but we’re here to stop it.”

“Mhm.” Marsilio nodded, not even batting an eyebrow at his compatriot’s insult. “It would be rather problematic to have a changeling become addicted to this imitation and seek out the real.”

Second Wind sneered, flaring his wings and turning away. “Problematic.” He spat the word, offering a hoof to Jachs, who took it.

With Second Wind’s help, Jachs stood, his body still unsteady. “I would have preferred a warning, Herr Doktor.” He chided. “Still, he’s right. This…substance is extremely dangerous.” He panted. “You’re sure it’s coming from Canterlot?”

“I am.” Finicus replied in Marsilio’s place, scooping up the love vial, now emptied, in his magic. “I know a bug that knows a bug that knows a pony that gets her supply from here.” He smirked. Then, immediately shrank as everyone fixed him with concentrated glares. “I uh-- I have my vices!” He quickly added. “One of those is exotic love and hey, the minute I got a whiff, I gave it to Marsilio!”

“Really?” Jachs nodded to the Kommandant, who released him to stand on his own four hooves again. “Just a whiff?”

Finicus’s frill shot up as he hooked a hoof behind his neck to nervously scratch. “There uh, there may have originally been two vials.” He sheepishly shrugged.

Alcippe’s hoof found her face. “Regardless,” she continued, letting it slam back down into her desk. “We have few leads. V.O.P.S. hasn’t exactly been cooperative with my inquiries.”

“So, all we know is that it comes from Canterlot. Fantastic.” Jachs stumbled his way over to Alcippe’s desk and let his flank rest against it. “I--” He started, and felt something crumple in his saddlebag. He stepped back, and flipped it open. The Generalmajor hovered out a dark purple envelope, embossed in fluid script.

“Another party?” Said Second Wind, eying the magically lifted paper with curiosity.

Jachs bit into it with his teeth, tugging the paper outwards. He hovered it sideways, letting Alcippe read along with him. “Of a sort.” He chuckled to Alcippe loud enough for the room to hear him, who shook her head. She opened her mouth and it looked like she was about to plead with him, but Jachs silenced her with a raised hoof. “But it looks a lot more interesting.” He said, flashing a confident smile.

Author's Note

Here's your surprise! I bought you a cover. Doesn't that deserve at least an upvote?

The Ideal And The Real

Hazy moonlight glittered down through the Canterlot streets, beams of off-white slicing through hazy fog, dissipating into the cold night air. Jachs stood beneath a dull streetlamp, flickering shades of yellow that fought for dominance with the everpresent Lunar glare. Beside him, Finicus inhaled deeply, cigar burning red in the night, and he let out a soft puff. Cigar smoke mixed with fog in translucent waft as the pair settled beneath the light.

“What’s tonight’s flavour?” Jachs leaned against the pole, his gaze low and scanning the streets.

“Griffonian tar-berry.” Finicus answered, taking another indulgent puff.

Jachs’ ears twitched. “Isn’t that like a thousand bits per pack?”

Finicus smirked around his cigar. In his magic, he withdrew it, stomping it out against the cobblestone street. “Yep. It’s a good brand.” He met Jachs’ gaze with a confident one of his own, his frill sticking up in pride.

The Generalmajor rolled his eyes. “When did you get so flippant with your spending?” He sneered, brow furrowing.

“About the same time you nearly drowned in the bottle.” The smaller changeling still wore a smirk.

“Guys,” Alcippe’s voice cut through the chatter, coming from lapel radios both bugs were wearing. “Can we focus please? We’re still not entirely sure this is not an elaborate assassination attempt.”

Finicus began to pace in place, the sound of his hoofsteps carrying along the darkened streets. “Oh we’re fine,” he jeered. “Jachs is just pissy that I left the army and got rich and he stayed in the army and got depressed.”

Jachs snickered and shook his head. “Well, that is part of it.” He joked, before roughly shoving the smaller changeling. Forced to take a canter back, Finicus reared up, fixed his horn, and made to charge. Jachs braced his hooves on the ground, met the other changeling with a ‘try me’ glare, and dared him.

“I got a car!” Both changelings immediately stopped as Kommandant Wind’s voice cut through the radio. “Shadowed windows, black exterior.” Jachs looked upwards just in time to see the dark shadow of the pegasus leaping from rooftop to rooftop. “Ground team, it’s headed your way!”

Finicus stopped and pouted. “Next time,” he promised, meeting Jachs’ eyes. The pair shared a nod.

Jachs’ hoof found his radio as he glanced down the street, making out the shining electric headlights speeding his way. “Clear out. Don’t wanna make our new ‘friends’ nervous.”

“Roger.” Came the reply. “So, no date tonight?” Second Wind chided.

Jachs rolled his eyes. “That party comes at the end of the month. We’ll have our moment, Kommandant, be patient and wait.”

“With bated breath, sir.” Second Wind’s voice cut through one final time. As Jachs moved to quiet his radio, he heard a half-second flash of Alcippe’s voice.

“Date…?”

His radio buzzed as he silenced it, turning the volume knob down to ‘nil’ and tucking it into his coat. That way Alcippe could still hear them without worrying about her voice alerting their hosts.

As the car pulled into view, Finicus let out a long low whistle. It was a limousine in the Equestrian style, blacked out from bumper to bumper. It had a smooth finish, shining darkling in the moonlight, with fenders that seemed to curve inwards like the tension in the air before a unicorn’s horn blast. “Carapace used to make ones like that before we moved on to tanks,” He leered. “Looks good.”

The back door ‘thunked’ with an unlocking sound, swinging wide to allow the pair of bugs access. Jachs approached cautiously, peering in to address the driver, but there was no such pony. The driver’s seat was empty, only a dull satin glow about the steering wheel. “Unicorn magic.” Jachs recognized. “Looks like we’re expected to go for a ride.”

“Yeah.” Finicus agreed, frill slicking back in nervousness. “Are you sure about this? I’ll admit, it’s a really elegant kidnapping attempt if it is one, but…”

“Cold hooves now?” Jachs slid into the furthest left seat behind the driver. “Come on Fini. Where’s your sense of adventure? You were the one who asked to follow, if I recall correctly.”

Finicus cringed. “Don’t call me that.” He clambered in regardless, and the door closed shut behind him. The sudden movement made the changeling nearly jump out of his exoskeleton. A quick glare to Jachs, and the Generalmajor’s coming chide was silenced into a more bearable smug grin.

A low magical hum sounded from the engine and the car clicked into gear. With a lurch, it leapt from the sidewalk and into the deserted streets. Jachs tried to focus on where exactly they were going, but the car seemed to fold in on itself. It made impossible maneuvers. Streets appeared which were not there before. Four turns in the same direction right after one another and they’d somehow be in a different part of the city than they’d started. Following the movements exactly was an exercise in futility. Jachs glanced at Finicus and he looked almost ready to hurl with his eyes closed.

Jachs decided to join him, letting whatever sorceries were happening beyond the vehicle happen beyond the view of his mortal eyes, saving himself the motion sickness.

The trip was blessedly short after that. Jachs felt a rumble beneath his hooves, like passing over a speedbump, and the car slowed. The Generalmajor chanced opening his eyes and beheld a featureless concrete parking garage. He first noticed the bleak concrete didn’t seem to be in the stark white Canterlot style. He didn’t recognize this part of town, either. The view from beyond the exit was a hazy and magical wave he immediately likened to heat rising from scorching asphalt that only gave the barest hint of buildings beyond his view.

Was the whole building glamoured?

Finicus leapt from the car the minute it opened, stumbling over himself to catch his breath. Jachs was not faring much better. The world stopped spinning and, eventually, brought itself back in to focus enough for him to clamber out and look around.

There was a single door on the far wall, a deep and inviting royal purple colour. It seemed to be made of some sort of soft fabric. It looked plush. It couldn’t have been more out of place if it was glowing.

“Think I found the entrance,” Jachs nudged Finicus, who immediately stood to right himself.

“Really? I dunno, could go anywhere besides a magic unicorn enclave. Maybe it’s a zebra spy hideout?” Jachs glared and the smaller changeling shrank. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous.”

The Generalmajor approached the door, feeling unsettlingly watched, like he was approaching the Queen’s throne. He extended a hoof and roughly rapped upon it four times in quick succession. He waited two seconds, and knocked four more times.

In a flash of azure magic, the door vanished, and in its place was an unfurling velvet rug, extending inwards into something like a plush foyer. The walls were deep vibrant purple, hazy with a smoke in the air, wafting from the double doors further in. Jachs’ magic immediately latched onto it, detecting the haze of content love in the air. “There you are, Generalmajor!” In his way stood the unicorn he’d ran into yesterday. This time, her horn was lit with the deepest royal velvet purple he’d ever seen. Purple of mane and of eye, taller than him, sporting a welcoming smile. “I am Gloriosa. And I must say, it’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” Every word was spoken low, hot, and sultry, like a cup of cocoa laced with Elation.

Her eyebrows lidded as she glared at his companion. “The invitation was for one changeling.” She spoke, flickers of annoyance crackling across her voice.

“Surprise makes the world more interesting,” Jachs quickly retorted, flicking his snout for Finicus to follow. “Don’t worry. He’s harmless.”

The little bug was visibly overwhelmed. His frill stood on end, catching the gusts of love about the air as he frantically threw his gaze back and forth. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open, fangs bared as he drew it in through his magic. He had begun to pant, serpentine changeling tongue flicking at the air like a snake tasting blood. If he cared about Jachs insulting him he did not show it.

“Really.” Gloriosa spoke with quizzical expression, both a statement and a question but more one than the other. “Well there’s nothing for it. I’m sure Excess can handle one love-addled changeling.”

“Excess?” Jachs questioned, moving to glance beyond her.

“The name of our little get together.” She smiled demurely. “Please, allow me.” With that, she stood by the doors, gripped the handles in her magic, and flung them open.

As the doors opened, a heavy fog of purplish haze fell around his hooves carrying love on its coattails. Jachs’ senses were assaulted by an onrush of velvet, translucent in the smoke. Chaise loungers, pillows, tassels. Everywhere he looked was a unicorn, doubled over in ecstasy, fallen on his or her back and giggling at the shadows that danced in their vision. They pawed skyward, eyes dim like fading lights glazed over in a foggy film.

Then, he saw the changelings crowding around a bar. Like their unicorn counterparts, each bug here was slung over some piece of furniture with eyes glazed over and empty, vacant expressions. Every so often they would giggle and laugh. Jachs was vaguely aware of Finicus heading in that direction, eying up a vial of cloudy love on offer.

“This is a drug den.” The Generalmajor dispassionately wrinkled his snout in disgust.

“Ha!” Gloriosa turned on him, pressing a hoof to his chest. “No more than you are an addict, Generalmajor. All changelings have this hunger. We only provide…sustenance.” She enunciated that last word, letting it trill along her tongue in a canting voice. She drew her hoof down his chest, letting the soft frog feel his chitin beneath his coat. Even her breath seemed laced with a fog of love and Jachs felt his mind going hazy.

It was getting harder to focus. As he met the mare’s eyes, her vibrant orbs, like windows into her soul, seemed to reflect the smoke around them. Thoughts, unbidden, slipped into his mind. He wanted to kiss her. To embrace this beautiful mare.

“Oh. A scar on the chest. How roguishly dashing.” She enunciated, her magic gripping the buttons on his uniform. He wanted to stop her, but he…didn’t want her to stop. Jachs’ coat fell to the ground, and suddenly she was on top of him. Her hoof traced a pattern around the gash in his chitin.

Jachs looked around. He was in a private room suddenly, the dull haze of love still filling the air, the endless onslaught of purple alight in his vision. He didn’t remember getting here. He just knew that, now, she was laying back on a lounger, a curtain was pulled behind him, and they had privacy at last. At last! He wanted to shout in joy. He was finally hers! Jachs fell upon the mare, his forehooves on either side of her neck. She moaned indulgently and flicked her frog underneath his chin. “Daring.” She chided, batting her eyes and challenging him to go further. Queen’s Mercy he wanted more. He wanted to give her everything. He hadn’t felt a love like this --true love!-- since his time with…

Jachs leaped back, batting the haze from his eyes. He fell against the far wall, scrabbling a hoof out for balance, panting, shaking his head, banishing the smoke in his peripheral. “What the hell!?” He shouted, baring his teeth in anger.

“Oh.” Gloriosa, still leaning back in a rather provocative pose, sounded so disappointed. “Oh that’s a pity.”

“Pity!?” Jachs forced himself to stand, but the sheer excitement in his legs was making it hard. It was like the Elation, but lesser. Swirling around his body rather than injected into his soul. “Start explaining, what did you do!? And it-- ugh!” He slammed his head against the wall. “What did you do to me?”

“Nothing you didn’t want to do.” She sighed, crossing her hind legs and laying back down. “Stop with the shouting, please.”

Jachs forced himself to approach her. It was hard to draw on his magic here, but if he had to, he could bite the mare. “I said explain.” He growled. “This is not…what is in the air here? It makes it hard to think-- to focus.”

“Is it not obvious to you?” She demurely smiled, turning to lay on her side, resting her head in the crook of her knee. “Love.”

Noting the Generalmajor was unimpressed with her answer, she made a show of sighing indulgently, before clambering up in her seat. Her horn lit in vicious purple, and Jachs nearly leapt at her as a dull vibrant glow surrounded him. Then, he felt his faculties returning. The haze of the place seemed lesser. Things came back into focus. He could see the vibrancy of the walls again, the sharpness of Gloriosa’s eyes, the swirls carved into her long, splendid, shining, beautiful horn. The way her mane lay across her body, the long hairs hugging her curves like desperate-- she smiled, winked, and with that those thoughts fell away too.

“Most changelings are putty in the hoof after a few doses of my special cocktail.” She whined. “Look at you. My, what a strong…and annoying, will you have.”

Jachs rolled his eyes. “Did you drug me? What the hell was that? What was…all that?”

She laughed. Hearty, deep, beautiful. “Happiness, Generalmajor. That is what I provide. The escape from reality. Those harsh feelings you poor bugs carry, those terrible memories? Forgotten, in a wash of Excess.” She licked her lips, curling her hoof over her chest. “Except for you. Such a desire to see one’s own self hurt isn’t healthy.”

Jachs let a fore hoof fall on his own chest. The scar there grounded him. “I didn’t come here for a psychoanalyzation,” he glared. “I believe your exact words were ‘offer of alliance,’ and yet since I got here I feel I’ve only been attacked.”

Gloriosa let out an even heavier sigh, complete with an eye roll. “Fine. Since you’re so insistent,” she chided. “These are my terms. Put my ponies in positions of power within your government. In exchange, you’ll have the full support of my little club, and my not so insignificant amount of magical power.” She winked. “The wealth of my own, and the eyes and ears of the lower classes that frequent haunts like mine. We could be great for each other, Generalmajor…”

The unicorn stood. She approached him, falling onto the lounger he’d wound up on. “Imagine it. I could give you an in. You love ponies, don’t you? I do too. I want to help you…and you could help me.” She nuzzled into him, singing sweetly. Jachs didn’t react as she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “And, other favours, of course. I’d let you avail yourself of my facilities, whenever, and wherever you--”

“You said, ‘your ponies.’” Jachs suddenly interjected. “Everypony I saw out there was a unicorn. Your cutie mark is your own horn…so I’m going to hazard a guess,” he continued. “All of ‘your ponies’ you have in mind are unicorns too?”

She blushed, obviously exaggerated, and flipped her mane. “But of course. What does that matter? We magic users are one and the same Jachs.” Her smile was like a lit fireplace in a winter’s morning. Warm, welcoming, comforting, and safe. “We deserve to rule with the changelings, not beneath them.”

“And If I refuse?” Jachs leaned back into the lounger, crossing his fores over his chest.

“Then I’m afraid we’d be enemies.” She sadly opined. “I’d probably beseech the E.L.F. for help…feed them information, do what I can to get on their good side.” She groaned. “Savage brutes, but if the alternative is annihilation via changeling…”

Nodding, the Generalmajor was quiet for a moment.

“Well don’t leave me hanging!” Glorioso tugged at his foreleg. “Are we allies then, Generalmajor…or enemies?”

Jachs closed his eyes and focused. He, as the Generalmajor is want to do, ran a myriad of simulations through his head. He settled on one conclusion. The reason for this show, her attitude, her confidence, her movements. Jachs hid a smile as he finally decided. He met the unicorn’s eyes as she met his, and confidently spoke.

“Enemies.”

“W-what!?” Her eyes went wide and she slid back from him. “Wait-- how do you mean? Surely there's…

That’s what he was looking for. The unicorn was clearly experienced with being the one in control of the conversation. Still hiding his smile, he shook his head. “The terms you’re presenting are undesirable. It’d give you too much control. I refuse.”

“Generalmajor!” She tried to interject, Jachs hushed her with a stern glare.

“I’m guessing you know me well and you know my position on Equestrians, since you were so sure I’d agree. So, you should know there’s one thing I do not want in Canterlot over everything else.” Her silence let him press on his verbal attack. “Why, Gloriosa, would you ever think I would trade one supremacist regime for another? Just because you aren’t changelings?”

The unicorn’s hooves began to tap nervously upon the lounger. The first sign Jachs had seen of her self-soothing since he’d got here. “You sound like you have a counter offer.” She finally spoke up, through gritted teeth.

“Indeed.” Jachs smiled, finally. “You start letting in earth and pegasi ponies into your little club, and I’ll spread all of you out evenly in my civilian administration. Your favoured unicorns still gain power, but not just the unicorns.” He grinned. “You lose nothing and gain everything. What do you say?”

There was a moment of quiet.“It seems I have no choice…” She finally admitted, looking crestfallen. “There is hardly any point, even so. The mud ponies and the turkeys can hardly use our love magic themselves.”

“Then there should be no reason you cannot champion their cause as well.” The Generalmajor shrugged. “If these terms are amenable to you then you may consider us allies.”

The unicorn mare let out a long breath. “Yes. Allies, then.” She growled.

“First off then, Ally. What is and where did you get this ‘love magic’ exactly?”

Gloriosa lead the Generalmajor through the main room again. He caught Finicus rolling around and giggling in the forehoof wrap of a unicorn stallion. After retrieving his uniform, which was tossed haphazardly onto the floor, Jachs kindly decided not to let Finicus know he’d seen once they meet up after this.

“I’m familiar with the effects of indulging in love for changelings,” said the Generalmajor, flicking his snout towards a pair of unicorn mares performing some kind of dance in place. “Why are there ponies acting like this?”

“Have you ever wondered what happens when a pony is fed their own love, Jachs?” She spoke confidently, nosing her way through a pair of double doors, leading him further into the building. This part looked less indulgently purple and more simple concrete, with featureless walls and a single hallway.

“I can’t say I have.” Jachs admitted, falling into step behind her.

She turned and stopped him. She’d regained her posh and proper smile. “The effect is similar to the love indulgence of your kind,” the unicorn casually explained. “It overwhelms them. Induces a feeling like euphoria, or--”

“Elation?” Jachs arched an eyeridge, paying special attention to her reaction to that word.

If it caused any particular neurons to fire, she didn’t show it. “Yes, exactly.” She giggled. “It…broadens the horizons, so to speak. Makes one see the occupiers in less of a negative light, when you see why they want us first hoof. I dare say, perhaps it may even lead an indulging pony to…empathize. If I could feel so delightful with just a few tugs on another pony’s magic, I’m not sure if I could ever--”

“It sounds like brainwashing to me.” The Generalmajor was quick to reply.

“Broadening of horizons,” she bore a frown as she replied. “We don’t force anypony to come back, Jachs. Regardless. To-may-toe. To-mah-toe.” She turned and marched proudly down the corridor, making a point to flick her tail into the Generalmajor’s face as she went.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Jachs trotted up quickly beside her. “You didn’t learn how to refine love by trial and error-- and you certainly didn’t get the equipment for it by sheer happenstance.”

“Oh, who cares for the details!” She flicked her mane, setting it bobbing. “Honestly, Jachs, just relax. Worry about the logistics another day. You haven’t even seen our premium services yet.”

Jachs snorted. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. I need to know--”

“La-la-la-la!” She canted in a sing-song voice. “All you need to know is that I know what you need! And it’s not here.” The unicorn pouted over her shoulder at him. “Now, you’re going to follow me, and I’m going--”

Jachs had enough. He rounded on the unicorn, put all his weight into her, and slammed her into the wall, pinning her to the cold metal. Shocked, she glanced back at him with a suddenly fearful expression. “You’re going to tell me where you get your supply,” he nearly growled. “My patience is wearing thin, ‘ally’.”

To his surprise, she leaned into the foreleg pinning her and nuzzled against it. “Come now, Jachs. You’re not going to hurt me.” She batted her eyes. Her lashes were long and thick. Beautiful as the rest of her. “You’re not that type of changeling. If you were, I wouldn’t have invited you here.”

Jachs met her eyes, his gaze steel and cold as a Wingbardy longsword. “If the choice is between hurting you, and the possibility of having innocent fillies suffer because I didn’t do anything…”

It was faint, but Jachs recognized a flicker of fear in her. That effortless confidence she’d seemed to exude had all but melted away. “Fillies?” She questioned, the word coming out stuttered and unfocused, like she was unsure she’d heard him correctly.

“Foals. Children,” he continued. “If you’re harboring the type of changelings who’d do that just to make your little love hotel…”

“I swear I’m not!” She suddenly blurted out quickly. “I-- we, we get shipments of special love that we mix in with our batches, but I swear there’s nothing like that here! I swear I would never do something like that!”

“Really?” Jachs sneered. “Even if it was ‘mudpony’ foal?”

She nodded. “Even if-- I wouldn’t cross that line. I wouldn’t.” She met his gaze, and Jachs could sense the conviction in her voice. “Ponies aren’t livestock and I swear I would never support something like that!”

He stared silently at her, appraising her. The Generalmajor supposed he had the measure of this mare by now. He didn’t think she was the type to be so callous, even if she was insufferable. His forehoof fell back to the floor, releasing her.

She took a cautious step back from him as she was finally freed, scrambling to say something, but Jachs silenced her with a raised hoof. “That type of love you make can only happen if a very powerful form of love is spliced into it,” he explained. “So wherever you’re getting your supply, it’s quite possible they’re black market harvesting foals. That is why, Gloriosa, that I need your help to find it.”

“I understand.” She said finally, ears flicking. “But nothing in the world is free, Jachs.” The Generalmajor arched an eyeridge. “I will tell you everything I know if you do something for me.”

“Something for you?” Jachs rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands, Glori.”

“Trust me!” She pleaded, leaning in to nuzzle affectionately at his neck. “I just want to show you our ‘special service’. Do this for me, indulge with me, and I will tell you everything you want to know and more; I’ll show you the ponies I get it from.”

Jachs sighed heavily, meeting her gaze with a resigned shrug. “What is it?”

Jachs was led into what he immediately recognized as a love extraction room. The same type of apparatus they had down at the clinic, with the glowing green spinning tip extended claw-like fingers. “What is--”

“Shh!” She whisper-shouted over her shoulder, ushering him to sit in a small comfortable booth behind the machine. Jachs took his seat, albeit cautiously. Though it was sometime since he’d been on the front lines, The Generalmajor found himself counting entrances and possible ambush points. The square shape of the room, at least, gave any possible adversaries little room to hide. From behind the extraction device, Gloriosa withdrew a small glass vial Jachs recognized as love. Cloudy pink lightning fired periodically inside it, casting shadows about the mare.

“If you’re about to ask me to take a hit of that crap, you’re--”

“Shhh!” She again shouted, twirling the vial in her magic as she approached the Generalmajor’s booth. The vial hovered up by Jachs’ fores and lay across the table. “I want you to see why I do what I do,” she clarified. “I want you to see what a bit of my magic entwined with the love does to a bug.”

Jachs held it in his hooves, watching the dance of lightning inside the glass. “What exactly do you do?” He asked, a sudden nervous twinge creeping into his voice.

Her hoof fell upon his own as her horn lit in brilliant violet. Her magic swirled about the love in his hooves, staining the bright pink with streaks of royal velvet that seemed to battle for supremacy in its tiny glass prison. “I make creatures happy,” she smiled, sliding closer to him. Her horn stayed lit as she nuzzled into his shoulder. “Now, indulge yourself, Generalmajor. See what Excess provides…”

Jachs could almost hear Alcippe screaming at him even though the radio was silenced. He met her eyes with a subdued shrug, popped the cap with a forehoof, and inhaled. Jachs drank deeply of the arcane cocktail and the world dulled to aching white, and then he-- quite simply, was no longer there.

Jachs could feel the chill in the air. He looked around and saw the Vesalipolis skyline lit up in glowing fire, giant smokestacks belching black tar skyward like the maws of sleeping dragons. Changeling machine forges churning out tools and weapons of war late into the winter months. There was nervousness in his gut-- but back then, the war was an inevitability but it had been so for years. He was immune to it. This sensation? He knew this sensation. It wasn’t the oncoming war that made him nervous.

December 29th, 1010. The last day he’d been really, truly happy.

“Oh, Colonel. They let you off your leash after all?” Her voice was melodious and beautiful as the song she was named after. She was leaning upon the banister at the Vesalipolis docks, her forehooves hanging over the railing. He hadn’t seen her in her civvies before. Usually, she wore a major’s insignia on her shoulder and a pair of binoculars about her neck. Today, she was in the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. A striking blue, reflecting off the water and the sky above her, and even her bright eyes were the most lovely azure. She was smiling, but there was a little sadness in her voice. A wistfulness, maybe.

“Let me? I snuck out.” He smiled and doffed his cap, trotting forwards to wrap his forelegs around her. The pair nuzzled, the air warmed by the heat of the industrial forges, before sharing a lingering kiss.

After breaking it, her head fell upon his shoulder, the pair staring at the water. There were other changelings around them, but…Jachs wasn’t paying anyling any attention back then, besides her. “Does that mean I’m going to have to do the paperwork for catching you?” She bit back, leaning in for another kiss. This time, both changelings bore their fangs, and hooked them into one another’s.

“I think I can convince you to overlook it.” He spoke through his teeth. She pulled back and snickered, rolling her eyes. The mare sighed, and let her head fall upon his chest. They stayed there for hours, then. Just staring at the water. Being with one another.

She was so…soft. It was so strange to Jachs. Changelings have a chitinous exoskeleton, but as he held her then, she seemed so pliable beneath him. Like a pony.

“I know it’s kind of weird,” she smiled as she looked at him. Her eyes, meeting his. “But I just love it here. I feel so safe.”

“You told me before.” He recalled, nuzzling into her mane. It was as beautiful as her eyes. “When you were a nymph, you--”

“Shush!” She softly headbutted him, sending the Colonel chuckling. “Let me reminisce, you oaf. I’m trying to be demure and mystical!”

“Fine. I’m just trying to save you the effort.” He nipped her on the ear, his teeth grazing the little hole she had in it. She’d worn a piercing there before the army made her take it out. Now, it simply looked at home. One more divot in the chitin.

She cleared her throat, fixing him with a mock glare. “When I was a nymph I was scared of everything. Terrified of the dark, the monsters that we hunt, everything. My father would tell me. ‘Take heart, Sonnet.’ He used that exact phrase, ‘take heart.’ ‘Take heart, for we face terrors so the changelings in the great hives sleep soundly at night. So as you have trouble sleeping, imagine the millions of nymphs who sleep in warm beds tonight, because of bugs like us.”

“Jaegers.” Jachs nodded. “It’s a noble profession.”

Her ear flicked. “So I always thought I’d be safest here, surrounded by thousands and thousands of hunters. The best hunters in the world. And now, we’re going to hunt ponies.” Her hooves leapt upon the bannister, tapping into the wood. “Short and stumpy bright pastel equines that are terrified of us. To them, we’re the monsters.”

His forehooves fell around her withers. Then, she had the task of holding the both of them up as he nuzzled into her. “We don’t have to be cruel about it,” he countered. “When we establish the Queendom proper, we can run it better than the princesses. We’ll get the love we need, but we’ll also be there to protect them. Just like the Jaegers of today.”

She snorted. “You really believe that?” She turned, bracing her fores against his chest. “Or are you just spouting off V.O.P.S. propaganda?”

Jachs let out a long sigh, hooking a fore around her neck. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure it happens this way, I promise.” He was proud of how he’d said that, meeting her eyes with a determined expression. “No matter what Chrysalis wants. If she becomes a problem, I’ll find ways to get around her.”

She voiced her agreement with a kiss. Another one, long and indulgent, under the lowering sunlight of the Vesalipolis harbor. “They want me in Vanhoover.” She smiled, breaking the kiss. “Reconnaissance, assigned to your division. Isn’t that just the luckiest thing?”

“Major Sonnet, you are not accusing me of pulling favours, are you?” She stuck her tongue out. Jachs caught it with his own, and the pair were locked in yet another battle for dominance. Sonnet eventually won.

“I’m glad you did.” She breathlessly admitted, nuzzling into his chest. The sun was going down now. “I don’t know how I’d survive being somewhere else, never knowing for sure if you were alive or not. I’d end up pulling my mane out.”

Sometime in the last hour they’d made their way onto a bench along the boardwalk. It was getting late now. Other changelings were starting to filter out into the streets proper. “I love you.” It had just slipped out. He hadn’t meant to say it. Time froze for the Colonel, his breath catching as she turned around.

To his surprise, she laughed beautifully, and nuzzled under his chin. “I love you too. So much, you stupid bug.” She had tears in her eyes. Another kiss followed-- he’d lost track of how many they shared that day. He couldn’t even remember how long that one lasted.

He remembered the parting that came later, bittersweet as it was. A promise that they’d be back here, on this same day, in a year’s time. They’d demand leave. If they couldn’t get it, they’d go awol and claim they were ponynapped. They’d find a way.

December 29th, 1011.

Jachs was on the boardwalk alone. She wasn’t coming. But he made a promise. So, Jachs sat there all day. He stared at the water and remembered her. Remembered her laughs, her eyes, her dress a year ago. How she’d looked leaning up against that banister. The sound of the waves beneath them. The distant call of the seagulls. Jachs made a promise, so he stayed there all day with her.

When it was time to leave, Jachs had picked up the changeling flag he had sat beside of. It was a small thing, about hoof sized, folded into a triangle and in a glass display. He’d slipped it into his bags and slept on the train back to the front. That was the same flag he’d kept to this day, under lock and key, in his desk drawer.

He had made a promise. He would keep it.

Jachs came to with his hoof around somepony. He could feel the heat of tears on his eyes. Gloriosa was nuzzling into his chest, her horn alight with arcane power. He was still in the booth, holding the mare like she was his…

“It’s alright.” She turned up to look at him. “You held me and cried alot. Nothing else happened.”

Jachs’ dropped his hooves and scooted away from her. His head fell upon his fores and he slammed them into the table. He bore his fangs. “What…” He tried to accuse her, but he felt so…strange. A content sort of sadness that was strange to place.

“My magic and love imbibed by a changeling.” She smiled softly, her voice gentle. “It has a way of making ‘lings remember what’s important to them.” She scooted closer to him, the taller unicorn wrapping her fores around his body. This time, Jachs didn’t refuse it. “There’s lots of guilt in you. I’m sorry, I thought you were…more cocksure, hah. If I’d known you were so damaged, I would have taken another approach. I’m usually very good at reading ponies.” Her face scrunched up. She seemed very deep in thought. “You’re…you’re like, you’re like the most ‘changeling’ changeling I’ve ever seen. You wear this mask of personableness on top of a mask of dutifulness, on top of six more that-- but none of that matters. All that matters is that I know the real you now.”

Jachs closed his eyes, sinking into the embrace of the unicorn. He focused on the tactile; the feeling of her coat on his chitin, her hooves around him. “You’re a mentalist unicorn. You looked at my memories.” He reasoned. “You saw…”

“I looked away when I’d seen enough. I’m sorry-- I had to be sure you were really the type of ‘ling I’d follow.”

Jachs noticed he’d been panting. He brought a fore up to wipe his eyes. “And?”

“And I’d follow you to Tartarus and back.”

Jachs turned and hugged her back. He wrapped his fores around her mare and shoved his face into her neck. He held her there, simply held her. It had been so long since he’d been held. “She was amazing,” he sighed out. “She loved unicorns, you know. Loved ponies. Loved Equestrian culture so much. Her step-mother was a unicorn, see, she…” Jachs swallowed heavily, his hooves digging into the mare’s back. “The war broke her heart.”

He felt her squeeze him, her soft pedicured and dainty hooves hugging him. “The world is lesser for her loss.” Her voice was so calming, so comforting. “But she would be so proud of you right now.”

Jachs shoved her away, baring his teeth. Tears stung in his eyes. “No. I haven’t done enough. I’ll never do enough.” He nervously tapped his hoof into the table, staring into the corner of the room, as if his answers were written there upon the concrete. “I’ve…I’ve made so many mistakes. I keep seeing her face when I’m asleep and she’s always disgusted with me. I’m doing all I can to make it up to her, but I never will.”

“Jachs.” She ran her hoof down his back. She tapped it there, rubbing softly. “I’ve met a lot of changelings here saying the same thing you are. Every single one of them tries their hardest where they can. Not a single one of them comes close to what you’ve done.” She hooked her fore around his waist and pulled him back into her. “Even if you don’t believe it yourself, everypony else here does. So I want you to do something for me.”

Jachs glanced up at her. There was genuine care in her eyes. “Everytime you feel yourself hurting like this again, try to remember a pony you’ve helped. Remember a volunteer thanking you, a citizen smiling happily when they see you who’d be cowering in fear under anyling else…remember me thanking you for trusting me enough to do this.” Gloriosa smiled warmly, before she softly kissed him upon the forehead.

Jachs lost count of the hours he spent laying there with her. Cuddling, beneath the featureless stone ceiling of this strange and arcane backroom, and it was the happiest he’d been in years.

“Excess is a place where everypony and everyling gets everything they could ever want. No judgements, no grudges. Whether you desire a particular flavour of sustenance, whether your desire is as simple as the carnal, or whether it is the reassurance that you are doing the right thing. Excess, Generalmajor, is at your back. Come back soon, Jachs.”

Gloriosa’s last words stuck in Jachs’ mind. Proprietress of the most illicit drug den known to changelingkind, willing collaborator in the changeling regime, unicorn supremacist, magical therapist. Gloriosa was as unique a creature as they came and Jachs still didn’t know quite what to make of her.

Still, she’d given him the information he needed, and she seemed amenable to all his demands. Regardless of the roundabout route to get there, he had the location of the supplier. An ally is an ally.

Jachs noticed he was smiling. It was nice to be back there again, on that little boardwalk in the harbor they'd spent so long on. It had been awhile since he'd been to her grave. She'd put on her will that she wanted to eschew the final transformation changelings go through; she'd wanted to be buried beside her mother. Perhaps he should visit again. This time, he could bring her the garrison duty roster and show her what happens when they work together! A tear fell from his eye and he flicked it away with a hoof.

Sonnet would love that.