Author's Note

My apologies for the late upload; I was caught between work and travel and could not find the time to finish the new chapter(s). Thank you all for your patience and happy reading.

Scene 6A: Storm

Thin, grey lines of smoke waft into the air from the tip of a glowing cigarette. They are blown about by a single, rickety fan that lazily turns round and round on the ceiling. It provides a blissful measure of relief from the unbearable heat permeating the tiny, dimly lit room.

A puff of smoke blows out from the Changeling's nostrils. He stares intensely at the row of cards held in his hoof. Two shabbily dressed changelings sit across the table from him, gazing down at their own cards with expressionless faces.

The Changeling leans back in his chair, blinking away his drowsiness. The stool creaks loudly with the movement. "I'll raise." His horn lighting purple, he slides a pair of purple marks into a pile of similar notes at the center of the table.

"Call," one of the changelings announces, but sits completely still. He makes no move to shift any money to the pot.

The other changeling narrows her eyes. "The fuck are you waiting for, Canthus?"

Canthus locks eyes with the Changeling. "Call... call your parents, tiny 'ling," he drawls out. "I'm getting sick of listening to them whine on the phone."

Narrowing his eyes, the Changeling growls back, "They aren't my parents. And I told you to have them blocked the next time they ring."

"The operator was bu-sy," comes the singsong reply. Canthus finally looks down at his cards. "Also, I fold." He tosses the cards across the table in frustration. "This game sucks without Maxilla. You all take it too seriously."

The other changeling glares at him. "Yeah, ruin it for the rest of us, huh?"

Canthus sticks out his tongue in response as he slips through one of the doors. "Later, Aether. Goodnight, tiny 'ling. When Maxilla gets back, send him in."

"Goodnight, Canthus," the Changeling waves. The door closes with a soft thud.

"He is so immature," Aether complains, rolling her eyes at the Changeling. "Why do you take that shit from him? He's so much younger than you."

Deep in thought, the Changeling doesn't reply. His 'parents' have been trying to contact him for months now. When his brother died- he tries not to linger too long on that thought- he felt too ashamed to go and talk to them. He had wasted his last chance, after all. How could he go and explain who got his brother killed?

Then, the announcement came. The new government was rounding up former Jaegers, looking to try them for crimes against harmony. If he showed up to his parents, they would either have to turn him in, or become accomplices in hiding him. So he stayed away.

For years, there was nothing. He found good 'lings to live with- all former soldiers, like him- and steadily built up a life to call his own. The apartment is small, his job as a teacher is exhausting, and he has to keep a low profile everywhere he goes, but it's not bad at the end of the day. He drowns that aching emptiness in his chest under pointless games and mounds of tobacco.

Sometimes he even musters enough willpower to sift through the endless volumes of literature on harmony and friendship theory. For what purpose, he doesn't know. No university will take in a nameless changeling with no ID.

It was going smoothly enough till an envelope showed up in the mail, his mother's name scrawled on the front. He threw it away without looking inside.

The calls started after that. His paranoia grew. If his parents can find his address and phone number, who else can?

"He's right about one thing, though."

The Changeling blinks, snapped out of his thoughts. "Hm? What was that?"

Aether huffs in exasperation. "I said, he's right about your parents. Call them back."

There's a distant bang and some shouting coming from lower in the building. They both ignore it, used to the occasional clamor that erupts in the building.

"I don't see why I should. They'll give up eventually," he retorts.

Reaching over the table, Aether places a surprisingly tender hoof over the Changeling's. "What if they're in trouble? What if they need you?"

The Changeling snatches his hoof back and averts his gaze, choosing instead to study the grain of the table. "If there was an emergency, Canthus would have told me."

"It's not always an emergency. And, OK, maybe they're not in trouble," Aether admits. "But- they're your fucking parents, little 'ling. They raised you. What if they just want their son back?"

Head still lowered, the Changeling doesn't respond. Aether is poking at the uncertainties he's felt for a long time now. Though she can't possibly know the true cost of him going back- he's been selectively vague about his past in the military- he does feel selfish for not making contact at least.

"You could give them a chance. A chance can't hurt."

"Oh, it very much can." The Changeling pushes his chair back and gets up, mechanically making his way to another door. "It's getting late, Aether, we can talk plenty tomorrow. Get some sleep."

Aether shrugs and stretches her forehooves. "You do you. I'll clean the place up a bit, first."

There's more commotion outside, this time much closer. Both changelings look towards the exterior door.

Someling screams, a piercing shriek that sends a chill through the Changeling's chest. There's a knock at the door a few moments later.

"Police! Open up in the name of the monarchy!" a slightly accented voice booms out.

"I'll see it. You wait here."

For once, Aether sounds completely serious, as she gets up and moves to the door. Ignoring her command to stay put, the Changeling goes to a shelf and discreetly moves aside some textbooks.

A tiny alcove is revealed, having carefully been dug into the wall one chip at a time. He reaches past the boxes of ammunition and bundles of money, pulling out a loaded pistol. He slips it into his shirt before joining Aether at the door.

"It's the police outside?" he asks. It's not unheard of for common thugs to disguise themselves as police officers to break into flats.

"Yeah, uniforms and shit." Aether confirms, turning away from the peephole. "They seem official. Have a look."

Moving to the door, the Changeling stands on his hindlegs and looks through the tiny glass window. Surprisingly, it's an earthpony and a unicorn standing outside. They wear dark blue uniforms and carry rifles.

These aren't beat cops. They're clearly special forces.

"Looks- looks like the police," the Changeling stammers, trying his best to keep his voice level.

"Told you so. What could they possibly want, though...?" muses Aether.

The door rattles loudly with more, insistent, knocking.

The Changeling takes a deep breath. He has a very good idea of what- or rather, who- the police want, but he doesn't want Aether to know that. "I'm going to talk to them. You check up on Canthus. Keep him from panicking."

Aether scoffs. "Yeah, right. Move aside."

Fumbling for a valid excuse, the Changeling responds, "I- I think I'll be able to communicate with them a bit better. You don't know what you're doing when it comes to talking to ponies."

"I don't know what-?" Aether seems surprised. "What the fuck are you on about?"

The Changeling winces internally, but presses on. "I mean, I am quite educated when it comes to the ponies."

"Don't start getting a big head, little 'ling," Aether growls. "Get out of the way, or else."

The Changeling snorts, feeling genuinely slightly irritated at that. "Sure, Chrysalis. We're not in the military anymore, and you don't get to order me around." The outraged look on Aether's face makes him feel a twinge of guilt, but he ignores it. "I want to talk to them. Go to Canthus' room, please."

"Fine then, smart-ass. Do whatever the fuck you want. But we'll have a talk about this later." With the stamp of a hoof, Aether marches past the Changeling to Canthus' bedroom. She gives him a glare before finally disappearing inside.

After rechecking that the pistol is concealed, the Changeling quickly pulls the bolt aside and lets the door swing open.

A brown-furred earthpony stands in front of him, uniform ironed to a crisp and mane cut to a neat length. Behind him, the unicorn ruffles his own cotton-candy-blue mane. His shirt lies unbuttoned on his shoulders, seemingly thrown on as an afterthought.

"Good night, sir. We're from the VPD, and we'd appreciate it if you could answer a few questions." The earthpony speaks with a cold professionalism.

"Questions?" he mutters in slight confusion. He looks past the duo to the dirty corridor outside, searching for the source of the scream from earlier. A few uniformed changelings are moving away down the corridor, but he doesn't see anything else.

The earthpony steps forward, subtly blocking his view. "Yes, questions. We suspect there is Loyalist activity in this building. Do you know anything about that?"

That throws the Changeling off. "Loyalists," he repeats dumbly.

After the war ended, the new government offered a general amnesty to most 'lings who served under the military, but there were a few radical Loyalists who continued fighting in a scattered insurgency: violently ambushing police, sabotaging infrastructure, and generally humiliating King Thorax. Anything to do with them is a serious matter.

The question offers him a glimmer of hope, though. If the ponies knew for certain he was a Jaeger, they'd have arrested him already. Or tried to, at least. There's a chance they don't know anything, in which case he can catch them off-guard.

"Loyalists, changeling, Loyalists. Do you know of any?" the unicorn sneers with a heavy Equestrian accent.

The Changeling ignores him, listening for the changeling police. He can't hear them anymore, but there's a lone set of hoofsteps quickly approaching.

"What- what's going on?" A changeling wearing a visibly stuffed pair of saddlebags comes to a halt a bit down the corridor, bright green eyes nervously flicking between the ponies. It's Maxilla. He visibly relaxes a bit when he spots the Changeling. "There's police everywhere, did you see?"

"Who the fuck are you?" asks the unicorn with no small amount of hostility.

Taking a reflexive step backwards, Maxilla stammers, "I- I'm-"

The Changeling finally finds his voice. "Get inside, Maxilla," he says firmly. When Maxilla doesn't react, he encourages a bit more gently, "Come on. I'm just having a word with these officers. There's nothing to be afraid of."

The earthpony moves out of the way, giving Maxilla space to enter. The unicorn remains in place, though, still staring him down.

"Is this your son?"

"No, flatmate," the Changeling replies warily. He reaches out a hoof to pull Maxilla towards himself, but the unicorn slaps it away without even looking.

"Flatmate..." the unicorn draws out in a suspicious manner.

Without warning, he reaches out both hooves to slam Maxilla against the wall. Maxilla struggles to escape his grasp, wings buzzing in panic.

The Changeling instantly moves his hoof to his shirt, just barely hesitating from drawing the pistol. Not yet.

"Steady on!" the earthpony orders sharply. The Changeling isn't sure who he's referring to, but he doesn't lower his hoof.

"What's in the bags, changeling?" the unicorn growls. "Come on, tell me."

"Nothing, pony!" Maxilla cries out. "Let me go!"

"'Nothing'? You'll regret that answer, changeling." The unicorn instantly raises a threatening hoof, as if to strike Maxilla.

The Changeling grabs the handle of the pistol.

The hoof of the unicorn is suddenly caught by the earthpony, before he can do anything.

"What are you doing?" the earthpony whispers in Equestrian language. "There's no need for that."

"He's refusing to comply," the unicorn replies in an obvious fashion. Still, at a glare from the earthpony- and to the Changeling's shock- he steps back and releases his grip.

Maxilla instantly flies across to tackle-hug the Changeling. He extracts his hoof from his shirt and gives Maxilla an awkward pat on the back of the neck.

"I think you'd better get inside," the Changeling whispers under his breath. "Aether is with Canthus, in your room."

"Right." Maxilla casts the waiting ponies a wary glance. "You sure you'll be fine?"

"I will. Don't come out, no matter what you hear."

Maxilla nods and rushes away into the apartment. The Changeling turns back to the ponies.

"Well? Seen any Loyalists, changeling?" demands the unicorn, seeming even more irritated than before.

The Changeling pauses to think. With the element of surprise on his side, he could easily finish off these two ponies, shapeshift and disguise himself as one of them, and leave before anyling raises the alarm. So easily. But...

If the unicorn had gone ahead with his attack, it would have been so easy to just pull out the gun and do away with these thugs. It might have been satisfying, even.

Instead the two ponies remind him of another duo that, so long ago, disagreed on whether to attack an enemy.

The gun feels strangely heavy in the Changeling's shirt. He remembers the consequences of that hesitation. If they had chosen one way, or another, his brother would still have been here today. And to take the easy way out now, when he couldn't afford it to his own brother, feels so so wrong.

He heaves out a resigned breath. If luck isn't on his side, he's in for some serious hurt.

"I'm afraid I don't know about any Loyalists." The Changeling maintains what he hopes is an impatient- but not hostile- tone. It's difficult given what just happened to Maxilla. "Is there anything else, or can I get back to bed, officers?"

"Are you certain you haven't seen or heard anything?" the earthpony presses. "Rumours?"

The edges of the Changeling's mouth twitch at that, despite the situation. If there really were any Loyalists here, they would be too well-hidden to be included in day-to-day gossip.

The ponies must know that. He only shakes his head in response.

"Well, in that case, can we do a quick search of your apartment?" the earthpony asks nonchalantly.

There it is. The Changeling's mind flashes to the hastily hidden alcove in the wall, stuffed to the brim with illegally acquired ammunition and too much money for any teacher to have; his accumulated salary from his time as a Jaeger. Innocent details on their own, but enough to warrant a real investigation.

What will happen to his innocent friends when the police discover that?

"I don't think you can," he finally responds with a forced smile.

The unicorn flashes a vicious grin from behind the earthpony. "Can't we? We're the ones with the uniforms here, changeling."

"You..." The Changeling racks his brains. "You need a warrant, don't you?"

The earthpony nods. "You're right, sir. We have a warrant to search the building."

The Changeling licks one of his fangs. "...but do you have a warrant to search my apartment?"

"On reasonable grounds," the earthpony replies calmly.

"I haven't done anything wrong," the Changeling mutters. "What grounds are there?"

The unicorn steps forward intimidatingly. "Alright, changeling, stop stalling. I was nice with that other 'ling 'cause he looked young. You think you'll be so lucky?"

The Changeling flinches, reflexively raising his hoof to his shirt. Should he use the gun? No, he can't.

"I- I'm not stalling. There's no need to search my apartment, I haven't done anything wrong," he repeats. trying again to talk his way out. Looking past the unicorn, he locks eyes with the earthpony who watches on with a troubled expression.

"Please. I've done nothing wrong," he pleads. He lifts the hoof past the pistol, resting it on his chest where he can feel the deafening thumping of his heart. A pony gesture of supplication. "There's no need for- for anything bad to happen."

"Move-"

"That's enough," the earthpony announces. "We're done here."

The unicorn glances back in shock. The Changeling feels just as confused, and has to force himself to keep his mouth from going agape.

"What, we're just gonna leave him here?" the unicorn demands in Equestrian language.

"We have other flats to see. Thank you for your time, sir."

The earthpony tips his hat at the Changeling. He can only stare as the earthpony trots away down the corridor, leaving the unicorn to glance wildly between the two before finally stalking off behind his comrade with a frustrated huff.

Their hoofsteps quickly fade away, leaving the Changeling alone with the dreadful thought that that could have ended very, very differently if he decided on drawing the weapon.

He jumps, startled, as he hears a door open behind him. Aether stands there, tapping her hoof impatiently.

"So... am I getting an explanation, if they're gone, then?"

The Changeling only smiles back, melancholy mixing in with his relief. He knows he can't stay here. He can't put Aether and Canthus and Maxilla in any more danger. The police will be back eventually. He doesn't know when, but he doesn't plan on waiting for them.

And, yes, a little selfishly, the Changeling realizes would like to remain free himself. He hasn't given up on his dream just yet.

It's time to say goodbye, and see what the future holds.