Body And Mind

Chapters

Prologue
Captured
Inpatient
Deprivation
Scientific Method
Breaking Point
Conditioning And Extinction
A Day In Town
Schema Therapy
Recidivism
Displacement
Sublimation
Self-actualization
A Meeting Of Royalty
The Princess Of Love

Prologue

Pincer had overshot his landing again.

His angle of descent hadn't been steep enough, and instead of dropping solidly on the floor of the black, stony flight dome, his hooves scrabbled at the floor as he tried to bring himself to a stop. Their rapid-fire tapping echoed throughout the spacious cavern, a rattling announcement of his failure to the chamber's only other occupant.

"Don't bother taking off again."

It didn't make much difference to him — his wings, like every other part of his body, felt as though they were about to snap off. He'd been worked to exhaustion and then worked some more, and his body's screams for relief nearly drove out all other thoughts. With tremendous effort he swiveled on the spot, turning to face the other changeling. The cave was shrouded in a dull green, the light provided by pockets of some glowing liquid trapped beneath the floor and the walls, and Pincer could see her looking at him in disgust. He kept his own face determinedly expressionless. His joints aching from the motion, he mechanically saluted her.

"Yes, Commander."

"Six hours! You spent six hours failing a very simple flight drill! You've got to be the worst flier in The Hive!"

Being the target of Commander Formic's wrath wasn't pleasant. Being the target of her wrath without the background noise of an active training ground to distract her was worse. Every changeling had a voice that, when they were untransformed, was accented by a slight natural hiss. Formic's was a strange and unnerving thing, almost too low to hear but still overbearing, and she used it to great effect.

"Apologies, Commander."

"I should've been done here four hours ago! I stayed here because I thought you weren't too damn useless to get your maneuvers right! You! Only you! What is wrong with you?! Two hundred, fifty-six drones in Cluster Three and all of them but you got this drill done on-schedule! Your pod leader couldn't get you in shape! I couldn't even get you in shape! You're a waste, Drone! You're holding us up! Why? Why do I even bother with you?! Why would anyone bother with you?!"

Pincer wanted nothing more than to point out that most of his failures were likely because he'd been forced to do the drills for hours on end without any food or rest. He wasn't about to give her an excuse to strike him, though. In his current state, he'd drop like a stone if she did.

"You know what's going to happen if you keep this up? You'll go straight to Cluster Thirty-Two. I've already got my eye on some drones there I could trade you for, so you'd better shape up, fast. Understood, Drone?"

The moment he heard "Cluster Thirty-Two," it was as if the room was pulling away from him. Despite his empty stomach, he felt as though he was about to vomit. Everything but his own sense of dread seemed to fade. She could easily do it. She had the authority, and showing fear would only make it more likely she would. Sheer survival instinct kept him from trembling.

"Yes, Commander."

"Good. Back to your pod."

His front leg swiveled into another salute, and he turned to leave.

It was a rather eerie thing, navigating the twists and turns of the Hive's softly glowing corridors and chambers after all of the others had retreated to their sleeping quarters. He hadn't been anywhere alone since his last field training exercise, in which he'd taken on an earth pony's form and infiltrated a border town to live among them for two weeks.

Despite the ever-present fear that he would be exposed and executed as a spy — Equestria might not formally have capital punishment, but he knew they'd make an exception for a changeling — in many ways it had been the most relaxing two weeks he could remember. Without so much as presenting identification, he'd gotten a job hauling fruit on his first day that left him able to get local room and board for the rest of the exercise. What followed was a wonderful but all-too-brief period during which he was not once yelled at, beaten, or threatened, and where he wasn't jerked about by the demands of a by-the-minute schedule.

After descending one final slope and slipping through the hole at its end, he emerged into the long, narrow chamber that served as his pod's living quarters. Eight crevices, four on each wall, served as beds for him and his podmates; all of them were filled but his. On the center of each side wall, and on the far wall, were larger holes that led to adjoining chambers. He was about to go to the cocoon room to quickly feed before bed when a voice came from the pod leader's quarters, to his left.

"Pincer, did you just get back?"

He once again turned on the spot to face the speaker and gave an automatic salute. "Yes, Pod Leader."

The other changeling, who was now emerging from the doorway, sighed. "You can call me Scarab in private."

"Don't want to get into bad habits, Pod Leader. I'd really rather not slip up in public."

Scarab nodded. "Understandable. Probably a good idea, actually. That's the kind of thinking I've come to expect from you. Now, I didn't see you during dinner. Did they let you eat at all?"

"Formic ate, I didn't. I wasn't about to ask."

"That's what I was afraid of," Scarab said quietly. "Come into my office, let's talk about it. I was able to save you some fish."

"Thank you, Pod Leader."

The mention of food made Pincer more painfully aware of his empty stomach. Scarab's office was modest, the only place to seat guests being an uncomfortably small raised, flat rock that served as a desk and two narrow, flat-topped rocks on opposite sides that served as stools. After a day of nonstop training, though, it might as well have been a luxury suite in Canterlot. The cold trout he began ripping into was similarly delicious after a day without so much as a bite of food.

"How'd the flight drills go?"

Pincer swallowed the chunk he had been chewing. "Still didn't pass. They, uh..."

He took a breath as the fear that had been so mercifully pushed out of his mind by his own exhaustion returned. Once again, he had the strange sensation of the room falling out from around him.

"Cluster Thirty-Two. Commander said she'd send me there if I didn't shape up soon. I... I can't go there. If I do I won't last the year. I... oh Chrysalis, I can't, I can't!"

He was staring down at his food now, rapping at his forehead with his hoof. Scarab gave him a moment to collect himself before speaking.

"Look, you don't need to worry, okay? I know you're scared, but that's all they were trying to do. Between you and me, they were bluffing."

Pincer slowly looked up at him. "B—bluffing? Are you sure? Why? Why would you think that?"

"Tell me, how did you do in combat training today?"

"Huh? I won nine out of sixteen, but I don't see what that has to do with—"

"And the obstacle course?"

"Five seconds below par, but I still don't—"

"Shapeshifting?"

"Uh, passed inspection. All sixteen transformations."

"Impersonation?"

"They picked me out five out of sixteen times, we were in groups of four... so they barely did better than if they'd guessed blind. One of them spent just about the whole time grilling me and still didn't catch me."

"So you were at least above average in every other category, and you got infiltration scores half the pod leaders in Cluster Three — or even any cluster, really — would kill for."

Pincer's gaze drifted toward the ceiling as he considered this. The room seemed to be orienting itself properly about him again, and the terrible lurching in his stomach was dying down.

"Look, they'd never put someone with your infil scores on the Suicide Squad. You're exactly what we need. They can't afford to have drones like you gutting yourselves on the Royal Guards' pikes to distract them, especially not when our pod deploys to Canterlot in three days. In fact, I'd bet anything they'll have their eye on you when this cluster needs another pod leader."

Pincer exhaled slowly, then snapped up the rest of his fish and swallowed it. Him, a pod leader? He liked the idea.

"Yeah... when you put it that way, I guess I'll probably be fine. Thanks, Pod Leader."

"But," Scarab said rather more forcefully, "you've still got to get your flight score up. Train during your free hour. I'll gladly coach you. Not just so you aren't punished, but because we need everyone at their best if we're going to survive. No matter how bad things get here, the real enemy is Celestia. Never forget that."

Pincer knew that very well. It was why he couldn't blame Formic, or Chrysalis, or anyone else in The Hive for his life. The ponies had it so easy. They lived such stress-free lives, and yet they wouldn't have willingly shared anything with the changelings. The Hive had to take everything it needed by force, and to do that they all needed to be strong. That was why he had to face screaming and violence every day, without relief ever in sight. It was the ponies' fault he had to live like this.Just thinking about it made him want to tear at them like he had the trout.

"Of course not, Pod Leader."

"Good to hear. Dismissed."

Pincer eased off of his stool and wearily trotted out of Scarab's office, outwardly composed but still seething about the ponies. The fish had eased his hunger, but he still felt drained, and that wouldn't change until he headed into the cocoon chamber at the end of his pod's main hall.

It was a good feeling, to feed on love. The chamber was much like any other — small, made of black rock, lit a dull green. It had a pony, though, and that made all the difference. Scarab had personally captured the unicorn that lay sleeping and suspended in the jade-colored, crusty shell before him, a young lilac mare who'd been scheduled to wed in a week. Her affection for her groom-to-be was powerful, and it made her the envy of many pods. Now it washed over him, relaxing and energizing him like a warm shower. The rather perverse satisfaction he got from the little act of revenge for how his kind was treated only made things better, and gradually his anger and weariness ebbed away.

"Rough day, huh?"

The feminine voice shook him out of his reverie, but it was hardly unwelcome. He turned away from the cocoon to face his visitor.

"Good to see you, Antenna."

"You too. Figured I'd join you, I skipped out on feeding here when it was scheduled. It's no fun, having to eat alone."

"Thanks. I'm just glad you're finally out of quarantine."

She rolled her eyes — at least, Pincer thought she did. With the exception of Chrysalis', changelings' eyes weren't easily readable like ponies'. No pupils to dilate, no easy way to tell when they shifted or where they were looking — just two fields of deep, pure sky-blue.

"One thing's for sure: I won't be saying anything like that to Pod Leader Pteron again. I'm glad you guys knew he was lying about me having a chitin-eating disease. I just wish the docs had."

"How bad was it, anyway? You didn't really say much about it."

"Take it from me, Pincer: don't get sick or hurt, ever. The doctors pried off half my damn backplate when they needed a sample. For the first week after, I'd wake up in the puddle I'd bled overnight. Just a tiny, dark room, with nothing to do and no one to talk to. Worst month of my life." Antenna crossed her front legs. "I'll bet anything they make it like that so nobody fakes getting sick."

Pincer looked down. "I'm, uh... I'm sorry to hear that. I had no idea."

"Hey, don't worry about it." She was smiling now, though Pincer couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't at least a little forced. "It's over, it's done with, and most importantly, I still beat you today in combat training!" Antenna chuckled.

"Don't brag, I won the last two before that," Pincer groused.

"I'm still ahead, but maybe that'll change if you work on your flying."

Pincer groaned. "I just need more time. I'll have the drills down soon."

"I know that, but that doesn't change things." Antenna beat her wings, producing a low buzzing sound, and slowly rose into the air. "The better you fly, the better you can fight." She began doing lazy circles around Pincer's head. Being used to this, he didn't bother to try to follow her movements.

"We're going straight to Canterlot for this. Anything goes wrong, we'll be fighting Celestia's best. But if we pull this off, we'll be eating good, and The Hive'll keep eating good long after we've got a new queen."

"We might live to see that day. Chrysalis has been Queen close to eight centuries. She can't have long left before she dies or passes queenship on to another drone. I just hope whoever follows her can keep us alive another eight." He paused, tapping his cheek with his hoof.

"You know, you'd make a good queen."

She snorted incredulously but looked amused. "Let's be realistic here, 'kay?"

"You seem to have the right stuff."

"Don't know if you noticed, but I'm not a Cluster Commander. I'm not even a Pod Leader. Bit of a long shot there."

"A drone can dream, can't he?"

They shared a laugh, but then fell silent. Now that he was free to focus on it again, Pincer felt the energy from the cocoon beginning to fade. They were nearly done. Soon the pony would have to be left to rest and regain its strength. Then he could finally sleep, giving him a few precious hours of rest before he'd have to prepare for what could very well be the most important mission Cluster Three — and, in fact, The Hive — would ever undertake.

Author's Note

Cluster 32 is inspired by Soviet Russia's penal battalions, the Shtrafbat.

Captured

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.
—Eden Ahbez

The searing pain that hit Pincer when he tried to stand alerted him that his back legs were broken. They looked fine at first glance, his black chitin merely as scratched and dirty as the rest of him, but somewhere beneath his carapace, the bones had snapped. His fall into the ravine had been every bit as bad as he'd feared, and now he was sprawled helplessly in the dirt. He could hear the water trickle quietly over the rocks in the nearby brook, but his view of the bed was obscured by the smooth, white stones of its bank, barely out of his reach. Soft grass brushed against his carapace and slipped into the holes in his legs. The sun directly overhead bathed the area in a comfortably warm light and splashed the small but healthy saplings scattered about. For most, it would have been pleasant and peaceful, but he was trapped by his injuries and the steep, rocky hills that towered over him on either side, cutting him off from the world outside.

He thought bitterly that if anyone would end up in this situation, it would be him. His poor flight scores had finally caught up with him, resulting in the vicious tailspin that had led to his painful fall. It wasn't as though he could've expected the invasion to end the way it did, though. In the eleventh hour, just when it seemed everything had gone as planned and they would never have to worry about running out of love for the rest of their lives, the magic of Shining Armor and Princess Cadence had quite literally blown them all away.

He didn't know if the others had fared any better. As far as he could tell, all of them had been as unprepared as he was and thrown into the air, sent flying far over the horizon, but he hadn't seen any of them spin and fall like he did. Presumably the others had managed to recover and land, if not cleanly, then at least well enough to avoid serious injury. He was sure his podmates were fine, at least.

A quiet fear that had been lurking in the back of his mind burst into his thoughts: he could very well die here. There were no signs of pony or other sentient activity in sight. He didn't know how often, if ever, anyone came to this ravine. Even if any pegasi happened to fly over, it was a million to one that they would happen to look down and see him. He was sure that the Princess' guards would be out searching for changelings, but a lifetime of education had very firmly etched into his mind the knowledge that to remain here until he died of thirst would be preferable.

Terror seized him as he realized the implication. He was going to die, whether here or in the dungeons of Canterlot. Whatever happened, he'd never see The Hive again. He would never again return to his pod after a day of training, feeling tired but accomplished, and settle into his bed for a good night's sleep. He had to swallow a lump in his throat, close his eyes, and take a breath when he thought of Scarab and his beloved Queen Chrysalis. After all, changeling drones weren't supposed to cry.

Antenna. He would never see Antenna again, either. He'd known her since they were larvae, and they'd been friendly rivals ever since their first drills. It was his determination to prove himself to her that had led him to be one of the more formidable fighters in his pod, for all the good it had done him at Canterlot.

The thought gave Pincer an idea. It was borne of desperation and highly unlikely to work, but it was also the only thing that might give him a chance of seeing his podmates again. He closed his eyes, clenched his fangs, and channeled magical power into his curved, needle-sharp horn. There was a flash and a feeling not unlike a mild electric current surging through his body. Pain shot through his back legs again, which his transformation could not mend, and he sharply gasped through clenched teeth — teeth that were now flat and blunt, like a pony's.

His black, insect-like body had transformed into that of a stormy gray-coated pegasus stallion with a short, cropped, cloud-white mane and tail. His build was lean, similar to that of his true form, but his wings were now thick and downy. The cutie mark he'd chosen for himself was a rather unremarkable triplet of blue raindrops. Flogging his brain for all of his knowledge of Equestria, he carefully began piecing together a background he could use long enough to get treatment and get back to the Hive. He'd been the best in his pod, possibly even the best in his cluster, at taking the role of a pony. If a pegasus spotted him, he was sure he could trick them into helping him escape.

If.

Time passed tortuously slowly. As thirst began to gnaw at Pincer's throat, the trickle of the brook started sounding less like relaxing white noise and more like a painful mockery. There was little else to occupy his mind aside from the occasional peeping of a nearby bird. While he could not say for certain how long he'd been there, he knew hours must have passed. The sun had recently disappeared behind one of the rocky hills, and as the last of its rays faded away, darkening the valley like the door of a tomb shutting.

He heard the Royal Guard chariot before he saw it. His prone position made it awkward to look up, and he was hurting badly enough without a stiff neck. There was no mistaking the source of the rhythmic flapping of wings and clatter of metal above, though. The beam of a searchlight mounted on the chariot began sweeping the ravine, turning its harsh white light on the rocks and trees. Pincer saw his chance.

"Hey! Down here! I'm down here! Help me, please!"

He found himself squinting as the blinding beam shone on him like a spotlight. His eyes stung and spots swam in his vision, but he was overjoyed. This was it! All he had to do was act convincingly, and he would be rescued! That much would be easier because, after spending the last several hours growing more convinced he would die here, he was genuinely glad to see them. All he had to do was swallow his fear, and Commander Formic had given him more than enough practice.

Pincer heard the chariot descend, the outline of the beam trained on him growing longer and narrower against the ground and twisting about him as the chariot circled above. Finally, directly ahead of him, he saw a pair of snowy white pegasus guards with a small, roofless, cadet-blue chariot behind them, seating a pair of black unicorn guards. After a light touchdown by the pegasi, the unicorns hopped out and trotted towards him, looking down at him in concern.

"Who are you? Do you need assistance?" asked the guard to his left.

"Oh, yes, thank goodness you came!" Pincer said. "My name's April Shower. I spun out while I was flying to Trottingham and crashed here. I can't move my back legs. I... I think they're broken."

The guard to his left nodded. "It's a good thing we found you, then." He turned to his partner. "Savior, get splints." His partner gave a brisk "yes sir" and trotted back towards the chariot, lifting a hefty canvas bag out of it. As he picked through the contents, the first guard turned his attention to Pincer again.

"You don't need to worry," he said in a warm baritone. "My name is Mystic Saber, and my associate there is Daring Savior. Once he finishes treating your legs here, we will take you to a hospital in Trottingham to recover. How long have you been here? Is there anything else you need? Do you need us to contact anypony for you?"

"It's been hours, I think. I know the sun was overhead when I fell. I'm sure my sister's worried. I was going there to visit her. I can write her once we're at the hospital. In the meantime, please, if you could get me some water?" As he said the last sentence, he put on his best wide-eyed, pleading look.

"Certainly," said the guard quietly. With a glance over his shoulder, he ordered his companion to retrieve a canteen. Once he'd gotten another "yes sir," he looked at Pincer again.

"Now, before we get started, I'll have to cast a spell on you. Don't worry, it will not take long. It's only to ensure you're not a changeling. After what happened in Canterlot, we're not taking any risks on that."

Pincer's blood ran cold and a lead weight fell in his stomach. Chrysalis flay me, he thought to himself, I never had a chance! The guard's horn began glowing green, and panic took over..

"Wait! Look, you don't need to do that." To Pincer's immense relief, the guard's horn dimmed. "I don't want — please. Please, I need help. I'm really thirsty. I need water, now." The other unicorn was walking back towards them now, levitating a pair of white, padded splints and a disc-shaped, shining silver canteen in front of him.

Pincer knew he had been clutching at straws, but he could still barely contain the terror when the unicorn who had been casting the spell shook his head. "Our orders are to scan everypony we find. This will only take a few seconds. Relax, you'll get your water."

Pincer's breathing quickened and deepened, suddenly sounding deafening to him. If he'd had the guard fooled at any point, the unicorn's suspicious expression made him highly doubt that was still so. As the guard's horn once again glowed, he started sucking air as if he'd been suffocating and he felt his heart hammer against his chest. His podmates! He'd never even gotten to say goodbye! He—

"I thought so."

Pincer didn't have to look; he felt the difference in his body. Smooth chitin. Swiss cheese legs. Protruding fangs. Gossamer wings. He was in the form ponies had surely come to hate, alone, injured and exposed to Celestia's best. The unicorns were both in front of him now, frowning at him sternly, Savior's splints and canteen floating behind him.

Saber said in a voice that had gained a hard edge, "as per Her Majesty's orders, you are now under arrest as a prisoner of war. We'll be taking you—"

Pincer didn't want to hear any more. He lashed out, leaping and snapping at the guards. Their eyes widened as they stepped back from the reach of his knifelike fangs. He tried to charge them, but had barely started pushing himself forward when his back legs exploded in pain again. His head and front legs fell to the ground, and he groaned helplessly. The guards' expressions had already turned stern again.

"Listen to me!" barked Saber. "You're in no condition to try to fight! All you'll do is hurt yourself! If you come quietly, you have my word as a royal guard that you will not be harmed! We just need to take you in for a few questions so we can protect ourselves from further attack by your queen. If you cooperate with us, you will probably be on your way home once you can walk."

Pincer glared with all the hatred he could muster, but didn't make another move. Saber's expression relaxed. "Before we do anything else, though, you will receive full medical care. Once Savior applies first aid here, you will be taken to a secure hospital in Canterlot." He turned to Savior. "Treat his wounds."

"Yes, sir." Daring Savior looked down at Pincer, letting the canteen float toward him. The cap unscrewed itself, and the lip of the container hovered directly under his nose.

"Here. Drink as much as you need to."

Savior's words, softer than Saber's, would have sounded reassuring had he not been a royal guard who knew Pincer's identity. Suspicious, he leaned down to smell the contents, then looked askance at Savior. Savior looked back at him expectantly. Finally, Pincer's thirst helped him decide that there really hadn't been enough time since his unmasking for the guards to tamper with its contents. He put his mouth over the rim, and Savior tilted it so he could gulp down the water. Even though it had come from an enemy, he savored the cool water as it went down his throat, and he had nearly emptied the container when he finally pulled his mouth away.

He felt as if he should thank Savior, who was screwing the cap back on and returning the canteen to its bag, but realized that would be naive. After all, he'd only been given the water so he'd lower his guard and be more willing to tell them what they wanted to know later. Savior did not prod him to express gratitude, though. He simply guided the pair of splints in front of himself and approached Pincer's side.

"I'll need you to lie still for this. You can relax. I'm trying to help you, that's all. If you struggle, you could very well make the fractures worse. If necessary, I can and will use a sleep spell on you. Do you understand?"

Pincer nodded grudgingly.

"Okay. Hold still — this won't take long."

Pincer felt his left back leg being carefully lifted by a telekinetic force, followed by the first of the splints being eased into place. His leg was lowered with the same care it had been elevated, and the second one soon followed. He found himself surprised by how quickly and relatively painlessly the guard had done it. It hurt, yes, but it was nothing compared to the nearly unbearable pain he'd gone through when he'd tried and failed to attack them. Of course, that was part of the trick, too. He was more likely to give out information if he thought they cared at all about his wellbeing, so they acted the part. In fact, his legs hurt less now than before Savior had applied the splints.

"Wait. What else did you do?" he snapped. "Why'd my legs stop hurting so much? Splints don't do that!"

Savior raised an eyebrow. "I anesthetized them with my magic. That's standard procedure. It will wear off in a few hours. Are you honestly going to complain about your legs feeling better?"

Pincer said nothing.

"You can think whatever you like of us once your legs heal. For now, we'll be taking you to the hospital." He turned to the pegasus guards.

"We're ready to transfer him."

The two pegasi drew the chariot over to Pincer. Savior, grunting and straining from the effort, slowly lifted him off of the ground. Pincer panicked and flailed for a moment the pain in his legs subdued him again. Seeing that this accomplished nothing aside from (as well as he could hear) making Savior swear under his breath, he resigned himself to staying still. Once he was motionless again, Savior carefully laid him on the rear bench of the chariot. Finally, a pair of straps snaked out of the medical bag and draped themselves across Pincer, stretching taut and knotting to secure him. He'd barely had time to test the straps, which proved stiff and unyielding, before the unicorn guards clambered back into their bench in front of him. The backrest of their bench now blocked them from his view.

"The prisoner is secure. Let's go."

The chariot rolled and shook and the wheels squeaked as the pegasi broke into a steady gait. Pincer felt himself pressed against the back of the bench as the chariot began to rise. The squeaking of the wheels stopped, replaced by the quick, steady flapping of the pegasi's wings. The ground fell away, the walls opened up, and the trees disappeared beneath the chariot's side. As the ravine gave way to the pale blue, sun-blazed evening sky, Pincer did his best to brace for the charge into the dreaded unknown.

Inpatient

The sun was setting and the air was cool when they began descending toward Canterlot. The towers and turrets of the royal castle loomed into view as they approached, and he realized before they touched down that he had been brought down very close to their ultimate destination. A small mercy, then, since he would be spared the prying eyes of the Canterlot elite. Once the pegasi pulling the chariot eased to a stop, Savior turned around and undid the straps holding him in place while Saber climbed out and galloped toward the castle.

"Lieutenant Saber has gone to contact the royal doctors. They'll be bringing you in to the hospital once they arrive. Once they've checked you in for treatment, they will ask you some questions so they can get you the care that you need. You must be completely honest with them. We've never treated a changeling before, and they will need to learn everything they can so that they don't harm you by mistake. Do you understand?"

Pincer nodded, but without any real conviction. He very much doubted that the doctors would have his best interests at heart, so what would they do with the information? Use it to torture him somehow? That didn't seem to make sense. They already knew how to make him suffer. They'd seen that broken limbs were just as painful for him as they were for them. They didn't even need his permission to find anything out, either. They had a facility full of medical equipment and he was completely at their mercy.

"Good. Is there anything you need in the meantime?"

He shook his head, and Savior nodded in acknowledgement. Pincer's unwillingness to speak left an awkward silence. From the distance came the sounds of carts rolling on cobblestones, flags flapping in the breeze, and the low din of ponies chattering, broken by an occasional laugh or shout. From somewhere nearby came the sound of steadily splashing water. In an attempt to break the silence, Savior tried to engage in small talk.

"Is there anything or anyone at home in particular you hope to get back to soon?

"Would you like to talk about your family? Do you even have a family as we understand the term?

"Do you happen to have any hobbies?"

As he'd been trained, Pincer remained silent.

Perhaps ten or fifteen minutes had passed when he first heard the approaching hoofsteps of the royal doctors, accompanied by the squeaking of wheels. The pony pulling whatever it was stopped, and half a dozen nurses and doctors followed closely behind her. Their appearances did not have the stern sameness of the royal guards who had taken him in; they were more like the ponies he had known from his infiltration missions, coats and manes awash in color. They wore uniforms like the guards did, though theirs were smartly pressed white medical coats. Some tried to peer down curiously at him, muttering amongst themselves as though he couldn't see or hear them. This stopped when one of them, a mint-green earth pony mare with tired-looking eyes and a wrinkled face, waved them to the side and snapped a reprimand at them for their conduct. Her eyes flickered over Pincer.

"Stay still for this. We need to lift you onto the gurney," she said in a low but firm voice. She turned to face the other doctors. "Okay, transfer him."

Remembering how much struggling had hurt last time, he did his best to follow the mare's instructions. She trotted away from the side of the chariot, and four unicorns — two stallions and two mares — took her place at the side of the chariot. Four horns glowed, four pairs of eyes narrowed in concentration, and Pincer summoned every fiber of his self-control to stay still as he once again found himself rising into the air, guided only by the colorful pulses of energy that enveloped him. He almost clamped his eyes shut, but he couldn't show weakness. They may have had him at their mercy, but whatever they did to him, he'd face it like a drone.

The doctors and guards didn't seem impressed by his display, but that didn't matter. They didn't matter. The Hive mattered. Chrysalis mattered, and Chrysalis would not want him to falter. He kept his eyes open until he felt himself eased onto the padding of the gurney and the unicorns released their magical grips. Then, just as had happened when he'd been put in the chariot, a pair of straps uncoiled themselves from somewhere underneath him and pressed firm against him, securely tying him in place.

From here he could see that he was somewhere in the castle courtyard. Its emptiness emphasized its spaciousness, with the only ponies around being the staff surrounding him and the occasional stationed guard. Low walls of carved rocks and rows of hedges bearing vibrant, colorful flowers sectioned the courtyard. Here and there were intricately carved stone statues of ponies Pincer did not recognize, along with abundantly flowing stone fountains centered in some of the sections. It was certainly lavish, but he had little time to take in the sight; after not more than a few glances around, the elderly doctor gave her signal and the young, rose-colored pegasus mare in front of him harnessed to the gurney began to pull it into the castle.

As the group made their way through the many corridors and chambers of Canterlot Castle, Pincer once again felt himself tense up and his nerves wear thin. He'd been here before, during the invasion, but he'd been with the others then. They had each other, they fought for each other, they supported each other, and they had a plan drafted and headed by Queen Chrysalis. It was ironic, really. If only he'd been uninjured, transformed, and hidden, any drone in Cluster Three would've wanted to change places with him. Now that the enemy had him in captivity here, though, the place seemed menacing. There were towering ceilings, blazing banners, dominating stained glass windows, miles upon miles of royal red carpet and he was in a castle made of glaring gold and ice-white marble, every inch polished to a mirror sheen and it made him long for the cracks and crevices of The Hive.

They descended a ramp, and the air began to grow colder. The vast gleaming halls and chambers of the castle above, lined with magically powered lamps, gave way to cramped black stone passages lit by flickering torches. It would actually have been rather comforting, being so reminiscent of The Hive, had Pincer not known it was the dungeons of Canterlot Castle. It was, though, and if he ever left here, it would be in pieces, boxed and labeled.

A part of himself was actually disappointed that he would not be meeting Celestia before they took him down there. That was strange to think about, wanting to see his most feared and most hated enemy. The chance to tell her off before he breathed his last, though, would have been some small source of comfort and a chance for some sort of closure.

The mare towing him saluted one last guard who opened one last door, then pulled him into a room lit sickly yellow by overhead gas lamps and sectioned by curtains. It housed several gurneys like his own, each paired with a steel table holding rows of scalpels, needles, scissors, and other surgical equipment. The walls were packed with shelves and cabinets, some of which were open, allowing Pincer to see the bottles of chalky pills and bubbling potions inside. Slowly, he was pulled into place alongside an unpaired table.

"Here is fine, Nurse Clean Bill."

The mare pulling him nodded and slipped out of the harness, then trotted to another room. Meanwhile, the head doctor took a seat near the sharp instruments. Pincer knew the time to face what he'd been dreading had finally come.

"My name is Steady Hooves," she said. Her corn-yellow ponytail swayed as she pulled a quill from her lab coat pocket and pressed it against a nearby clipboard. "I'll be responsible for you until you're discharged. I need to ask you a few questions before we begin."

Pincer took a breath. "What do you want to know?"

"What is your name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Hooves didn't bat an eye. "So I can address you and enter you into our records. Unless, of course, you'd prefer I just called you 'Changeling.'"

Could they use his name against him or The Hive? They could take him hostage. They already had him, of course, but if they'd only said they had a changeling, it would be easy to call it a bluff. Then again, ponies had cameras, too.

"You don't have to answer it if you don't want to," Hooves said levelly.

Pincer took another breath. "I'm not. I won't answer it."

"Very well," she said, scribbling a note. "Now, do you know how much you weigh?"

He gave the most accurate answer he could; they would probably weigh him later anyway.

Hooves scrawled another note. "Now, I mean no offense by this next question. We've never treated changelings here, so I can't know for certain. Are you male or female? Or some other specification?"

"Male."

She scrawled again, giving a small, pleased "hm." "What... stage of life would you say you're in? Adolescence? Adulthood?"

The question seemed harmless enough. "Early adulthood."

Another scribble. "Family history of cancer, heart attack, or diabetes?"

"Mother's side, no. Father's side, I don't know."

"Any allergies that you are aware of?"

"No."

"Did you sustain any other injuries during or after the battle in Canterlot that we should be aware of?"

"Got hit by some kind of pink beam from a unicorn's horn. Knocked me off my hooves, but as far as I can tell I only got scrapes from it."

"A kinetic impact spell. Nothing to worry about. Now, what about your dietary requirements? Do you need anything besides love?"

"Meat. Any kind."

Hooves gave a final nod and a final scribble, then slipped her quill back into her pocket. She had failed to ask several important questions, such as whether he'd had any recent history of plate dislocations or had ever suffered Transformation Rejection Syndrome, but she couldn't have known about those and Pincer planned on keeping it that way.

"All right, next we'll need to take you to another room to x-ray your legs."

Pincer tensed, wishing he'd studied pony medical technology more during his infiltrations. Weren't x-rays harmful radiation?

"Is something wrong?"

"That's radiation! It's dangerous! Are you... why? Why are you doing this?"

Hooves' eyebrows raised. "You don't know about x-ray imaging? Do you mean to tell me that changelings don't have the technology?"

Pincer nearly hissed, more at himself than anyone else. He'd just given the enemy information!

"I mean, I didn't really know about that stuff. Wasn't in medical. I just know they never used it on me."

Hooves let out a quiet "hmmmm." "We use x-rays to image bones, so we can see how bad the fractures are and if they will require us to operate. It's easy and safe, I assure you."

Pincer cringed. There was really no way to get out of this and he was sure his carapace was too thin to block the rays. His endoskeleton would be on display for them all to see, and that alone would be a lot more data about his kind in their hooves. He'd been a fool! Dying of thirst in that ravine would have been better than this!

"You can relax. It's a perfectly routine procedure, it doesn't take long and it's completely harmless and completely painless."

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head. While he was looking at Hooves, the nurse had slipped into the harness again. How had she done it so quickly? Suddenly he was being pulled once again, past rows of gurneys and shelves towards an open doorway, Hooves trotting along beside him. He didn't know where he was going or what exactly to expect, but once again images of blades and poisons burst into his mind.

He was wheeled into another room. This one was harshly lit by the cold, white light of a multi-bulb lamp hanging from an iron arm bolted to the ceiling. Filling the room was a cage of shining steel machinery and rubber cables, a cage into which he was being pushed. He'd barely gotten into the doorway when the nurse had to step out of the harness to circle around and push from the rear. Once he was directly under the light and boxed in by the strange medical devices, the nurse stopped pushing and slipped back into the other room, quiet as ever. He found himself wishing he could follow her.

Hooves turned away from him to adjust some dials on the side of one of the machines. He began straining against his bindings, grunting as he tried to work up some motion, any motion, anything that remotely felt like it could get him away from the scanner. Overhearing his struggle, Hooves took her hoof off the dial and turned back around.

"I need you to stay still. Otherwise, I can't get a proper image."

She looked down at Pincer. Pincer looked back up at her, baring his fangs slightly.

"No. Don't look at it." His breathing quickened. The gurney jostled slightly as he began thrashing again.

"Calm down! We just want to help you!"

"You think I don't know what you're trying to do? You'll just send this to the royal guards so they know where to kick!"

Hooves balked. "I wouldn't! I couldn't do that even if I wanted to! They'd fire me for breaking a patient's trust!"

"You're lying!" He snapped his fangs, and even though he could do little more than turn his head, Hooves gasped and stepped backward. She recovered quickly, though, and cantered steadily out of the room without another word.

Seeing her exit, Pincer let himself fall limp and begin panting for breath. It couldn't have been that easy. She'd be back, and she'd have some way to make him sit still. He shivered, then steeled himself. They would punish him for this. He had to be strong, though. Anything useful they got out of him wouldn't be from his own failure or weakness. He'd already let Chrysalis down by getting captured. This was his chance, and he would exonerate himself!

"Here he is."

The doctor stepped into the room and to the side, making way for a blue unicorn stallion with a short, neatly trimmed, sea-green mane who wore a white medical coat similar to Hooves'. He trotted to the gurney, slowing his pace as he approached Pincer, eyes on his dagger-like fangs. Pincer gnashed and flailed with what little ability he had, as though he could overcome his restraints and bite the new pony through sheer force of will. Unfazed, the pony lowered his head and his horn began glowing.

"You've left us no choice. I'll have to tranquilize you."

"No! Put it away! You won't break me! I know you've been lying! I know why you're really x-raying me! You're going to use me. You'll use me to fight The Hive. The others..." He yawned. "The others are c—counting on me. I won't let you win. We won't let you win. None of us... we'd never... damn it... we can't l—let Chrysa..."

Pincer's head fell to the pillow.

"Not very pleasant, was he?"

Steady Hooves, who had been sitting by Pincer and writing up a chart for him, glanced toward the doorway. Standing there was Clean Bill.

"Hardly surprising," Hooves replied, focusing again on her work. "He's a prisoner. I just hope he didn't lie about anything. If we make any mistakes, we could have a lot worse than broken legs on our hooves."

Clean Bill trotted towards them, circling to the side of the gurney opposite Hooves. Her gaze never left Pincer.

"Like an arthropod crossed with a mammal," she said quietly, eyes sweeping him. "I'd never heard of a creature with both an exoskeleton and an endoskeleton. The exoskeleton doesn't seem to be very thick or heavy, though. I suppose they couldn't fly if it were."

"It was thick and heavy enough we couldn't get a blood pressure reading through it after sedating him," Hooves said, eyes not leaving her chart. "If he gets circulation problems, we're in trouble. At least we were able to get a decent x-ray image. I wasn't thrilled with the thought that we might have to open him up just to look at his fractures."

"The wings, too. They're like insect wings. Thin, translucent membranes..." Bill leaned over the gurney. "I can see the veins if I look closely. The ears are very long and thin, but structurally they're quite similar to our own. They look like they developed from antennae. The only fur I can see is on the tail. And why the holes? Why in Equestria are they there? I bet I could snap those legs with my hoof. Come to think of it, I'm not sure what the fin on the back of the head is for. Reducing drag? Attracting mates?" She looked up at Hooves and continued.

"I heard what he was screaming about, and I'm actually surprised The Guard haven't asked us about that. You know, getting some samples — blood, chitin, anything like that. I'm sure the scientists at Canterlot University would love to get their hooves on some. As long as he's here, you know?"

For the first time since Bill began speaking, Hooves' eyes left her clipboard.

"He's a patient, Bill, not a lab specimen," she said. "There are rules we have to follow when we treat patients."

"He's not a pony, he's a lovesucker," Bill said, tapping her hoof against the floor. "Those monsters came here to..." She shuddered. "...feed on us. You're really saying we should treat him like anyone else? Like he was some Canterlot pony caught stealing?"

"It's not our place to judge, Bill. As members of Her Majesty's medical staff, we've got to handle all our patients— "

"...with compassion and consideration, I know. But do you think Celestia could've planned for something like this? Do you really think she'd want us treating him like one of our own?"

"Have you heard her say otherwise?"

Clean Bill's eyes flickered to Pincer.

"We'll need a meal for him when he wakes up," Hooves said. "Meat won't be a problem. Some gryphon dignitaries will be coming in a few days, so Celestia should have some fish ready to cook."

"But what about love? Standards say we can't let him get malnourished. The problem is, we can't just let him take it by force, and I don't think anypony's going to give it to him willingly. Can you even imagine it? 'You there. Love this oversized bug vampire for us.'"

Steady Hooves tilted her head to the side, looking at nothing in particular, touching her quill against her chin and furrowing her brow. Then, suddenly, she let the quill fall onto the chart and looked at Clean Bill, mouth turned upward in a satisfied smile.

"Princess Cadance. I'll need to speak with her."

Deprivation

Even with the aid of the sleep spell, Pincer's night seemed to last an eternity. He tossed and turned fitfully within the confines of his restraints, and his dreams were turbulent variations of the day's events. In one he broke down and told them everything, in another his legs had healed so he could escape, and in yet another the ponies locked and abandoned him in a darkened room to die. He awoke from the latter sometime in the middle of the night, and for several fear-soaked moments his tiredness and shock at waking up in such a place had led him to think his dream was real. It wasn't until he found and touched the buzzer that his fears eased. Even then, he lay awake in the darkness and silence for a while.

Finally the time came when he was roused from his sleep by Nurse Clean Bill switching on the lamps and greeting him with a clipped "good morning, sir." She served him breakfast, another meal of trout as satisfying as the first. Under the supervision of two unicorn guards, the restraints on his front legs were temporarily removed and he was given a few minutes to stretch them. He was glad for the opportunity; they'd gotten rather stiff and sore from being held in place overnight.

"Doctor Hooves should be here with your reading material momentarily," Bill told him after he had finished stretching and the guards had left. Pincer suppressed the urge to glance towards the door, secretly anticipating what she would be providing.

"All right. What else have you got in store for me today?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. We can't start the next step of treatment until we know if you would have a harmful reaction to the bone restoration potion. The tests for that should be done within a few days. In the meantime, all we can do is rest your legs."

"No questioning?"

"Not until you can walk again."

Pincer eased his head onto his pillow. No questioning until he'd healed. That was what the guard had told him when he was first being captured. He hadn't believed him at the time, but now it looked like he really would have a reprieve before he ever had to stare down the Royal Guards. Even so, he had to be careful; doctors and nurses had ears, after all.

The door creaked open, and Pincer heard the now-familiar clumping, squeaking and rattling of a cart towed by a pony. He turned his head, and as he'd expected, Hooves had arrived. Behind her were the books, piles of them packed onto the cart, small and large, thick and thin, new-looking and yellowed with age. He nearly smiled; he'd never been much of a reader, but surely there was something there that could take his mind off of his situation.

"There you go," Hooves said, wriggling free of her harness. "You have non-fiction, fantasy, adventure, science fiction, everything is there. Did you need anything else?"

"No, this is plenty for now."

Hooves nodded. "Now, as long as I'm here, I'd like to talk to you about your x-ray results," she said. She trotted over to the far end of the room and grabbed a backlit display board, rolling it over to the side of Pincer's bed. She unrolled a pair of images and pinned them to it.

"We've got one image for each fracture. This one up here is what we got of your left back leg, the one down here is for your right back leg. We were worried that your carapace might prevent us from getting readings, but that turned out not to be a problem. The image isn't as clear as it would be on a pony, but you can still make out your endoskeletal bone."

It was strange, knowing that he was seeing in those pictures a mirror of his own body. He could see his legs, highlighted in a ghostly blue, black gaps where their hollow areas were. Inside, brighter and paler than the rest, were his bones. Even though they were part of the skeleton he'd had all his life, it was still rather fascinating to see the way they bent and curved around the hollow portions of his legs. It didn't take long to find the fractures; they were the unnatural-looking cracks where the pieces of bones didn't line up. He wasn't an expert, but the damage didn't seem to be terrible.

"You were lucky." Dr. Hooves jabbed the images with a hoof, where the fractures were. "There weren't any fragments to remove, the edges where they broke didn't puncture your chitin, and the pieces were easy to set. All you'll need to do is to rest until your legs can heal. If we can safely use the healing potion on you, then with daily injections you should completely recover within two weeks. Did you have any questions?"

"You said I might be getting injections. There's a problem with that. The needle might crack my chitin. Those can take a while to heal." He'd once again done the hated task of giving them information, but better now than when they tried to stick him.

"No need to worry, it'll fit between your plates. We'll deliver it where your kneecap meets your upper leg."

Pincer shifted. "That's all I needed to know."

"All right," said Dr. Hooves as she began unpinning the images from the board. "I'll follow up on you in twenty days, then. In the meantime, Nurse Bill will be responsible for seeing that your needs are met. If you need anything, ask her."

Pincer nodded, but there was no conviction to it. He wished he'd been given a different nurse. He didn't believe for a second that any of the medical staff cared about him as a person, but Nurse Bill wasn't even trying to maintain the illusion that she did.

"Okay," Hooves said. "We'll be leaving now, but the buzzer is still there to call Mrs. Bill if you need help. In the meantime, you're free to read any of the books we've provided."

Dr. Hooves and Nurse Bill turned away and began trotting out, Hooves in the lead. "If you don't call me before then, I'll see you again when I bring your lunch," said Bill curtly as she stepped through the doorway, only slightly slowing her stride.

With something to occupy his mind, one of his restraints removed, and the promise of being undisturbed for several hours, Pincer was at the most spirited he'd been since he'd fallen in the ravine. That he was relatively happy with his current situation was a mark of how far his standards had fallen; even now, the fact that he was trapped and forced to neglect his duty at The Hive gnawed at the back of his mind. His thoughts turned to escape. Even unsupervised and with his front legs unbound, though, his back legs were still broken, and he couldn't so much as get out of bed by himself until that changed.

After trying and failing to find a clock somewhere in the room, he yanked a book off of the stack at random, a thin paperback with a bold, flashy cover illustration titled Daring Do And the City Of the Sea Ponies. Daring Do. He recalled overhearing the name during one of his infiltration missions. As he flipped through it, he quickly realized that he had little interest in a story of a pegasus thwarting villains and finding treasure. He thought to toss it away carelessly, but they might not trust him with any more books if he mishandled them. He set it down gently on the floor and picked out a small but thick blue hardcover.

Traditions And Codes Of the Canterlot Royal Court. He smiled and set it on the floor; Scarab had made his pod practically memorize that one before the mission. He picked out another hardcover.

From Beyond the Firmament. This, too, was discarded after a brief scan; there was generally little useful to gain from science fiction, especially an impossible story of primates smart enough to develop spacecraft. It was clearly meant to appeal to a pony's sense of wonder, and Pincer had long ago smothered his.

The Lady of Las Pegasus. He set aside this one without opening it. Judging by the pose of the unicorn mare on the cover, it would just make him hungry.

He'd slid another dozen or so books to the pile on the floor by the time he finally pulled one he could seriously consider reading: A History Of Modern Equestrian Theatre, 701 Y.S. to 1 Y.R. Judging by the second date, it had been published last year. While he doubted it would give him anything useful about Equestria to report to The Hive, he had to admit to some curiosity about how ponies took different roles without the ability to alter their appearance like a changeling could. How convincing could costumes and makeup be? If nothing else, three hundred years of history would pass plenty of time if it could keep his attention.

He skimmed over the pages, reading paragraphs and sections as they caught his interest. His gaze slid away from the script excerpts, playwright biographies, and thematic analyses in favor of the costumes, the props, the appearance-altering spells, the actors, and everything and everyone else that made the plays come to life. He learned of a spell that changed the color of a pony's coat. He learned of another that could give a pony wings, for plays with alicorn characters, though this was rarely used; more often artificial wings were used because the spell was impossible for all but the most talented magicians. He felt a grudging admiration for an earth pony actor who delivered his character's dying soliloquy flawlessly even though he had actually been wounded after being stabbed by an overly-sharp prop lance.

Every new item he read about was tinged with brief concern, however, because he couldn't help but consider whether or not the transformative and deceptive abilities of changelings were truly beyond those of ponies. They could certainly alter their appearances and act out roles better than he'd given them credit for. Was the gulf as wide as he'd believed? Suddenly, this innocent read meant to pass the time seemed to have become a matter of military intelligence.

He shook his head, scolding himself for being so quick to doubt The Hive. Changelings might not have a monopoly on such skills, but they still surpassed ponies. Ponies couldn't show and hide horns and wings at will, couldn't all change the colors and styles of their manes and coats in a flash, and certainly couldn't take up assumed identities for weeks or months at a stretch among different species. Even if they could have, not reading any further wouldn't change things; learning more could only help The Hive. His concerns eased, he continued reading.

So absorbed was he in his reading that he jumped — or at least the closest he could manage within his restraints — when the infirmary door creaked open. He heard the familiar squeaking and clopping of a pony pulling a cart. Was it that time already?

"Your lunch, sir."

It was salmon this time, a welcome source of variety after two meals of trout. He ate this meal quickly too, though this time his haste stemmed as much from his desire to return to his reading as from his enjoyment of the food. Within minutes, he had finished eating and once again had the book spread open in front of him.

With no timepiece, he had no sure way to tell how long passed when he finally reached the end and closed the book. Given its size, he was surprised to have completed it so quickly, but when he thought about it he realized that he'd skipped two-thirds or more of it. He set it on the floor, apart from the small pile he'd made earlier. He picked through the stacks on the cart again, and soon settled on a book of Equestrian military history. He realized unhappily that The Hive's defeat at Canterlot would probably be the basis for a lesson in the next edition.

While the book offered little useful information, it was entertaining enough to pass the time until dinner.

The days trickled by, with nothing more important happening than him receiving the news that his test results had come in and they would be able to treat him with the healing potion. To prevent his time in the hospital from being wasted in aimless lethargy, he began methodically picking through the books he'd been provided in search of useful intelligence. No changeling had ever managed to infiltrate a high enough station to get access to anything in the Royal Library short of Chrysalis herself, and their unexpected defeat hadn't left her any opportunity to recover books.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the ponies had anticipated this. He had yet to find anything more useful than the military history book, which despite his initial high hopes contained nothing about pony tactics and capabilities that wasn't already common knowledge in The Hive. As much as he would have liked to request more, he knew there was no way to do so without arousing suspicion, and that would only make things more difficult when he made his escape attempt.

As he'd expected, being under Nurse Clean Bill's care was not particularly pleasant. She wasn't abusing him in any obvious ways, but every day there were hiccups and stutters more characteristic of The Hive's medical chambers than a facility headed by Celestia herself. His meals were often inexplicably soggy. The needle would slip during his daily injections. Soapy water would splash into his eyes while he was being bathed.

Even if his pride hadn't prevented him from doing so, he wouldn't have entertained the thought of trying to bring the matter to the attention of another pony. At best he would be ignored by unsympathetic hospital staff who detested being charged with a changeling, and at worst it would get back to Nurse Bill, and she would make things even worse for him.

It was about a week after his admittance that the first hunger pangs set in. Being deprived of love was a very different feeling from having an empty stomach, one that a changeling felt throughout his or her body. He first noticed the shaking one evening when he nearly dropped a book he was pulling from the cart. The headaches started a few days later, and the occasional sensation of being electrically shocked followed close behind. The symptoms were easy enough to ignore for the time being. More difficult for Pincer to push out of his mind was the knowledge that they would only get worse over time, until...

...until he starved to death.

Like any decent drone, he'd long ago accepted the possibility that he might die carrying out his duty, but it had been very different then. Death had been something that might or might not happen to him in a battle sometime in the future, or if he were careless enough to get exposed during an infiltration. It had been something he could plan for and avert. Slowly wasting away here in the bowels of Celestia's castle meant facing an absolutely certain death that he was entirely powerless to prevent, leaving him with nothing to do but wait for the end.

This was why Pincer was unable to take any joy in the news that, twenty days after being admitted to the Canterlot Castle Secure Hospital, he was being discharged. At the end of his second week in the infirmary, he had received another x-ray. He did not need sedation for this one, and a brief, painless sweep of the scanner left him feeling embarrassed that he had ever dreaded it. As Dr. Hooves had predicted, the results showed that the fractures in his legs had completely healed.

The following day, two unicorn guards and two pegasus guards arrived to take him away; clearly they were taking no chances now that he could walk. One of the unicorns was Mystic Saber, though he gave no indication that he recognized Pincer. The unicorns moved in ahead of the pegasi, unceremoniously removing his straps with their magic. One of them slid a of silver-colored ring onto his horn, and he felt an uncomfortable tingle from it. He realized that his magic, and thus his ability to transform, had been suppressed.

"Off of the bed. No sudden movements."

Pincer stayed on the bed at first, taking the opportunity to stretch his stiff, sore limbs. Had he not had four guards silently urging him on, he might have been more able to appreciate the feeling of being able to move his rear legs without being paralyzed by pain. He eased himself off of the bed, his right legs first. When he first attempted to stand on his own he stumbled and nearly fell once on the floor, but a guard steadied him. They gave him a few moments to properly find his balance before addressing him again.

"Fall in line. Two of us ahead, two of us behind."

He stepped into place on shaking legs, and the two in front of him started marching him out. They moved silently through the cramped corridors of the dungeon, which seemed to grow darker and colder at every turn. He suppressed his growing dread by doing his best to focus on the layout and make a mental map of the area. However, his mind got so entangled in the snaking corridors and aimless turns he saw that by the time the guards were motioning him into his cell, he had only a vague idea of which direction he would need to go if — when — he managed to escape.

The cell had no furnishings aside from a flat, thin mattress chained to the wall and a cramped desk. On the desk sat a small stack of familiar books under which it seemed ready to collapse like a pony schoolfilly's crafts project. He'd barely passed through the iron-barred gate when it banged shut behind him, causing him to about-face in alarm.

"Now, we have some questions to ask you, and you won't be leaving this dungeon until you answer them," said Mystic Saber. Pincer turned around to face the guards and saw that the pegasi were gone; all that remained were Saber and the other unicorn, both fixing him with stern gazes. Pincer narrowed his eyes at them.

"Where is The Hive?" Saber asked in his powerful, firm voice.

Pincer's reply, carefully rehearsed, came low and cold.

"I'm not telling you."

The guard didn't bat an eye. He began asking a series of questions. No matter how innocuous, each was met by the same rehearsed, stony response.

"Are there any changelings currently operating as sleeper agents in Equestria?

"What are the limits of your ability to transform?

"Why did you join the army?

"Aside from your queen, do any of you have names?"

Many minutes passed as the guard continued to rain questions down on Pincer, quite a few of them repeated multiple times. On it went, hour after hour, neither Pincer nor Saber showing the slightest weariness or hesitation. Finally, slowly, Saber stepped back.

"Very well, then. We'll come back to this tomorrow. Unless you want to stay down here for a very long time, I suggest you be more cooperative in the future."

Without another word the two unicorn guards turned and walked away in synchrony. Their hoofsteps faded, and with them went Pincer's lone remaining lifeline to the outside. When they died away completely, he blinked, shook his head, and looked around.

This was his cell. Within these walls, behind these bars, was everything he could ever hope to experience for the indefinite future. This claustrophobic cage was his world now, but it was okay. In his mind he knew that, somewhere far away, his podmates in The Hive were safe. They would survive another day because he'd been strong.

Comforted by this thought, he turned to the books; he'd gained a new appreciation for the things.

"Your Majesty, we may be running out of time."

It was a small, plain conference room, its polished oak table seating only eight ponies and its marble walls having no decoration save for a coat of arms. At the far end was a vertical slit that served as a window, through which an orange stripe of sunset fell onto the table. Princess Cadance sat at the head of the table; Lieutenant Saber was to her left, Dr. Hooves and Twilight Sparkle to her right.

"Are you sure of this, Doctor? Even though we've treated his legs, there's still so much we don't know about changelings," said Cadance.

Dr. Hooves shifted slightly in her seat. "We can't say for certain, but it's the only clue we have. We know changelings need to feed on love to survive. We know this one hasn't gotten any since he arrived. We know he's been showing symptoms that seem to indicate some sort of hunger or withdrawal. Since we have a known likely cause, it only makes sense to try to address the problem by feeding him."

"We've been trying, Doctor," said Twilight wearily, leaning forward. "Cadance asked me to come here to help her last week, and I've been pulling all-nighters since then! I've been looking all over the Royal Library for something, anything, that can feed him! I'm checking every scroll on every shelf that so much as mentions love! We don't even know if there's a way to generate love out of thin air! There might have to be a connection between two ponies... or, well, a pony and a bug, I guess. The point is, we're already doing everything we can short of dragging some pony down and having Cadance force her to love him. Not... not that we'd ever do that, of course!"

"I'm just telling you what he needs," Dr. Hooves said evenly.

Cadance nodded. "And you, Lieutenant. You started questioning him today, right? Did he tell you anything that might help?"

Saber shook his head. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but we've only had an afternoon to work on him. It could take days or weeks to talk him into telling us anything valuable, and that's assuming he hasn't been trained for this kind of situation. Given his occupation, he probably has."

Cadance slowly drew in a breath. There was no way around it; she would have to make a breakthrough, and soon. "I understand. Lieutenant, Doctor, Twilight, thank you all for your assistance. This meeting is adjourned." She struck her hoof against the table.

Twilight was off of her chair as soon as Cadance had finished her sentence, trotting towards the door as Saber and Hooves were bowing customarily to Cadance. Almost as an afterthought, Twilight turned to give Cadance an apologetic look.

"Sorry, Princess. I just remembered a book in the Starswirl wing that might help! I'll let you know right away if it turns up anything useful! I'll see you later!" She barely gave Cadance time to nod before she was out the door.

Princess Cadance smiled; Twilight's etiquette might be cause for disdain among the nobility, but Celestia couldn't have asked for a better student.

Author's Note

I was stymied by the closing scene for an embarrassingly long amount of time. It's so short, and yet I had such a hard time with it... until I decided to include Twilight Sparkle in it. At that point, it basically wrote itself.

Scientific Method

For the next three weeks, Pincer was subjected to daily interrogations that stretched on for hours at a time. On some days it was Saber asking the questions; on others, it was a different guard. Among other things, they demanded military intelligence outright, they tried to make him doubt his loyalty to his queen, they prodded him that he must surely have people who were worried about him, and they told him of the suffering the attack on Canterlot had caused to try to make him feel guilty about his involvement with the actions of the other changelings. They threatened to deprive him of his daily free exercise time, which had been his only chance to stretch his wings since he'd been captured.

Despite the relentless questioning, his growing hunger, and his helpless dread at his seeming fate, his desire to save his podmates and The Hive gave him the strength to resist. Whether by simply repeating the answer he'd given the first day, or remaining coldly silent, or turning his back to them completely, he denied them any shred of information. They always left coolly and professionally at the end of each session until, finally, Mystic Saber lost patience with him.

"How much longer are you going to keep this up? Do you plan to stay here until you die, just so we can't protect ourselves from your queen?"

This was the first time they'd ever asked him that. Some nerve in Pincer, worn raw by weeks of isolation and relentless questioning, finally snapped. He gave his guards a fixed glare.

"Listen to me, horses. I'm not telling you anything, and I never will. I know why you're asking me these things. We're nothing but monsters to you. You want to finish us off, make sure we'll never threaten you again. You'll burn our home to the ground. Don't think I believe for a second that you would've given me the hospitality you have if I didn't have information you needed." He began to shout. "Kill me! Just kill me! I'm not talking!"

Saber simply exchanged a brief look with his companion.

"Listen to me, prisoner. This is my fifth year serving in the Royal Guard, and I can tell you that we are nothing like you think we are. We have always conducted ourselves with pride and honor, and to commit the atrocities you described would be an affront to everything we stand for. We do not kill prisoners, we do not burn towns, and we do not commit any other forms of wanton brutality. We protect the ponies of Equestria, and we only want you to talk so we can do that more effectively.

"All right, I think we're done for today. In the meantime, I'd suggest you think about this session. Things would be better for everypony involved if you would just cooperate, and unless you learn to see that, you're going to be in here for a very long time."

The guards turned and left, and as their retreating hoofsteps grew quieter, and Pincer was left once again to find solace in his books.

With a groan, Twilight gave the book she'd been reading a telekinetic shove and sent it tumbling onto the floor. As she did so, a thump echoed across the Royal Library's shelves of books and scrolls.

She winced when she realized what she'd done, and her magic enveloped the book once again. She brought it in front of her, turning it over and flipping through it. To her relief, it was undamaged; since she was alone in the library, nobody would need to know that she'd been so careless with one of Canterlot Castle's tomes. Having no more use for it, she floated it up to the top shelf and nestled it where she had found it.

Her worry taken care of, she could once again make room in her mind for her exasperation. She'd been sure that if any book in this room could help her, it was that one! With her magic she snatched up a long list from the floor, along with a quill, and struck out the book's title from it. Looking further down it and seeing how few items remained, she bit her lip. It was starting to seem that what Cadance was asking just wasn't possible. There were still books and scrolls to check, though, so Twilight's work wasn't done. After all, the next one could have the spell she was looking for.

She telekinetically lifted her list and quill and cantered out from between the ceiling-touching shelves, which stretched out from the center of the room like the spokes of a wheel, and around the large hourglass that dominated the center. As she did so, the parchment flapped behind her. The moment her eyes found the next book, she extended a magical thread that yanked it off off of the shelf and began flipping the pages, her eyes sweeping them for any mention of love. While she was picking apart the meaning of a particularly obtusely-written paragraph about the theoretical origins of the various types of love, the library door creaked open.

"What!" Twilight turned towards the door on the spot, the book snapping itself shut behind her.

It was Vigilant Watcher, a thundercloud-gray unicorn mare of the Royal Guard. She was in a defensive posture, one front leg drawn back and horn pointed forward. Twilight, realizing that she had startled Watcher in turn, sheepishly curled her tail beneath her. "Oh. Sorry, Mrs. Watcher."

Watcher let her posture relax and smiled. "Good to see you're keeping at it. Much as I hate to interrupt, Princess Celestia wants to see you."

"Oh...." Twilight stood up and straightened her posture. "Sure! Sure. Did she say why?"

"No, but between you and me, it probably has something to do with that changeling."

"Oh, of course." Twilight's horn glowed, and the book flew back to its place on the shelf. Then she rolled up her list and tucked it into a corner with her quill.

"I'd better be right over, then." Her eyes widened and she glanced at her list again. "Oh, I hope she doesn't expect me to have found something by now!" With that she trotted past Watcher, who gave her a reassuring smile, and out the door.

It didn't take her long to reach the entrance to Celestia's throne room. The pair of unicorn guards standing at the towering, ornate doors nodded in unison, their horns glowed, and the doors slowly creaked open. She thanked them and slipped in.

The doors banged shut behind her, the sound echoing through the spacious room. Though she'd been there many times before, Twilight couldn't help but look around. The mirror-polished, turquoise floor stretched out far on either side of the smooth, immaculate red carpet. Meticulously crafted, vividly-colored stained-glass windows lined the walls, touching a ceiling she would have had to crane her neck to see. They depicted all of the finest moments of Equestria's history; she could feel herself blushing at seeing herself portrayed in some of them. Sitting atop the towering golden throne that dominated the center of the far wall was Princess Celestia, who was smiling warmly.

"It's nice to see you again, Twilight. Cadance told me how hard you've been working on your assignment."

Twilight slumped a bit, her gaze flickering towards the floor. Celestia's frowned in concern.

"Is something wrong?"

Twilight snapped to attention. "It's... well... I'm sorry, Princess, but I haven't... haven't been able to..." She swallowed, then shook her head.

"I haven't been able to find anything yet."

"That's quite alright," Celestia said. "I know that you've been asked to do a very difficult, perhaps impossible, task. I haven't called you here because I expect you to have finished it by now. I understand that these things take time."

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief.

Celestia's eyes narrowed slightly. "However, time is a luxury we may not be able to afford. I assume that Cadance has kept you informed of the changeling prisoner's condition?"

Twilight nodded.

"Then you understand that we're in a difficult situation. If we let him go without having received the information we need from him, we put the ponies of Equestria at risk. If we allow a captive prisoner to starve to death through our own negligence, we put our entire way of life at risk.

"Since the Royal Guard began interrogating the changeling weeks ago, he has not given us a single piece of useful information. We don't know if there are changelings disguising themselves and spying on ponies as we speak. We don't know if another attack is imminent. We don't even know if any of them besides Queen Chrysalis have names. We need a new approach. We need someone who knows how to study and understand. We need someone who can not just question, but research."

In one smooth motion, Celestia leaped off of her throne and touched down almost noiselessly at the base of the steps.

"Twilight, I want you to interview the prisoner."

Twilight's eyebrows raised and her eyes widened. "M—me, Princess?"

Celestia nodded. "Yes, Twilight. This is my newest assignment for you, and given the situation, it would be best to do it as soon as possible."

"I... I don't know, Princess," Twilight said, frowning. "I've never really done this kind of thing before. I'm not sure how much help I'd be."

"I wouldn't have told you to do this if I didn't think you could. You've done great things before, and you can do so again. I have faith in you. You must have faith in yourself. Do you understand?"

For a moment, Twilight simply took in what she'd heard, Celestia looking at her expectantly. As uncertain as she was, she couldn't deny the truth to her mentor's words; the windows of Celestia's own throne room stood as testaments to Twilight's accomplishments.

"I'll be down there this evening, Princess."

Celestia smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Good luck, Twilight."

Twilight bowed until she was dismissed, then briskly trotted out of the throne room, head held high with new determination.

The next few hours were a flurry of activity. Quill and fresh parchment trailing behind her as she cantered about, Twilight interviewed doctors, nurses, guards, soldiers, anyone that could give her insight into interrogation procedures, the changeling's state of mind, and what had already been tried and failed. It was with great fascination that she jotted down Dr. Hooves' description of his two skeletons, Nurse Bill's revelation of his literature preferences, and Lieutenant Saber's stories of his seemingly unbreakable will. Every fact she learned and every note she made built up her anticipation for the chance to talk to a member of a species that ponies knew almost nothing about.

By the time she had inked in her last note on the remaining free corner in the parchment, Celestia had begun lowering the sun. She made one last stop beforehand, heading to her guest room to roll the parchment and tuck it into her saddlebag along with another blank one to take notes on during the interrogation. Once the saddlebag was securely strapped to her back, she descended into the dungeon and asked one of the unicorn guards to lead her to the changeling.

When the guard stopped in front of one of the cells and announced that they'd arrived, Twilight was taken by surprise. As they'd approached, there had been no noise coming from the cell, nor was there any sight of its occupant. It wasn't until she peered through the bars that she saw the changeling, sitting at the flimsy desk and staring down listlessly at a book. As soon as she'd finished thanking the guard, she popped open her saddlebag and floated out her quill and both rolls of parchment, unrolling the piece containing the notes and questions. As he was leaving, she tapped the stone floor with her hoof to get the prisoner's attention.

"Excuse me? I need to talk to you for a bit."

Her voice wasn't like the others'; it sounded young and feminine, but without the huskiness that the mares in the Royal Guard had. It was devoid of intimidation or displays of anger, too. It sounded curious, almost friendly. Pincer turned his head toward his visitor involuntarily. She was a purple unicorn mare levitating a quill and parchment, leaning forward on her haunches in anticipation.

Seeing who it was, Pincer stumbled away from the desk and narrowed his eyes at her. He recognized Twilight Sparkle not only because she was one of the Element bearers they'd been so exhaustively briefed on, but also because of what he so vividly remembered from the Battle of Canterlot.

He'd been charging at the Element Bearers, he and hundreds of other drones. He could still clearly imagine the thundering and vibrations of thousands of hooves against the ground. They were galloping for all they were worth, entire clusters of them, knowing that they were facing dangerous foes and that it was vital that they not let them retrieve the Elements of Harmony. They hadn't been fast enough; the Bearers were poised and ready to fight, and they'd thrown aside the entire force in minutes. Twilight Sparkle had personally wounded him, along with many of the others, with some kind of directed energy from her horn. By the time he'd managed to pull himself to a standing position again, the Bearers were long gone.

"Hey, you can relax! I'm not here to hurt you! I just want to ask some questions. I've never had a chance to talk to a changeling before, and besides that, I think I can help you. Celestia's getting rather worried, you know, and so is Cadance. They've told me you haven't been able to feed on any love since you got here, and they don't want you to starve. So if you could just tell me what we need to know so I can get Celestia to release you, or even just something that could help me and Cadance find a way to feed you, or... or... I mean, maybe..."

Pincer had kept his posture fixed the entire time, giving no acknowledgment of Twilight's words. In response, she stomped a hoof in impatience.

"Listen to me! I'm trying to help you here!" Pincer wasn't able to stop himself from cringing. Twilight wasn't an ordinary guard; she was a powerful sorceress and a student chosen by Celestia herself, one who wasn't disciplined to the degree that the guards who'd been handling him were. Twilight getting angry could very well get him killed.

Grimly realizing that this would solve a lot of problems, he began speaking in the most casual voice he could manage.

"And why do you want to help me? Did you forget what I did? I was at Canterlot. I helped capture that pink princess so that my Queen could bleed that brother of yours dry. It would've been doing you all a favor, really. He was so bad at his job, he couldn't even slow us down. I'm sure my Queen could've replaced him with someone better."

Twilight gasped, then glared at Pincer. "Hey! Don't you talk about my brother that way!" She walked towards the cell dangerously. Pincer didn't bat an eye.

"Your brother is weak. Your mentor isn't much better. You found out the hard way that your Princess Celestia couldn't compare to my Queen. You're wasting your talent, working for someone so powerless. If you'd only been born a changeling, you could've learned from the best, the strongest... the greatest."

"And what do you know about strength, or greatness?" Twilight crept forward until her horn was nearly touching the bars, then stomped her hoof again. "Being strong isn't about being able to win fights or push ponies around! Celestia and my brother are strong in ways you'd never understand! I'm glad I wasn't born as one of you! You're horrible!"

Pincer stepped closer to the bars. "'Strong in ways I'd never understand'? You're just saying that because it sounds good. What's this strength, then? Go on. Tell me."

As Pincer advanced, Twilight tilted her head down. Her horn now pointed at him. "How about the strength to do what's right? Or stand up for others? That sounds better to me than your idea of strength!"

"Is that the strength that left your Princess lying on the ground for us to feed on?"

Twilight's horn flashed a brilliant magenta, leaving spots swimming in Pincer's vision. Confused and disoriented, but apparently unharmed, he shook his head and blinked a few times. He could hear Twilight's breath coming through clenched teeth, and as his sight cleared he saw that she was still glaring at him. Her horn, now glowing brightly, remained pointed at him. He knew she'd done something, but it didn't seem to be killing him or even hurting him. Was it some subtle poisoning spell? No, even if she was angry, that was too sadistic for her.

He tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn't open. No matter how he strained and struggled, he couldn't move his jaw at all; it felt as if it had been bolted shut. Of course. She was holding it in place with her magic, robbing him of the ability to talk. Twilight was still glaring at him, but her breathing was becoming more even and regular. He needed to put her on the attack quickly, or he'd lose his chance.

Seeing how carelessly close she'd gotten to the bars, he lunged. With his mouth sealed shut, he used his only available weapon to try to strike at her horn — his hoof. As soon as Pincer saw her eyes widen in shock and felt the tingle of her horn's magic field at the edge of his hoof, there was another magenta flash and he felt something strike his chest. The next moment was a flurry of confusion and pain; Pincer felt his body getting battered everywhere, his legs twisting and flopping and his head whipping from the blows. When he came to his senses he found himself sprawled on the floor of his cell, face pressed against the dusty black stone.

Disappointed but very much alive, he was slow and shaky getting back on his hooves. Luckily, his exoskeleton had done its job, so it was more from being knocked off-balance than anything else. Once standing, he looked dispassionately through the bars at Twilight, who had backed up from them and was now standing with front legs bent forward ready and horn still pointed at him. It was no longer glowing, though.

"What is the matter with you? Why would you try to do that? Don't you realize that all you're doing is making things harder on yourself?" she asked.

His last hope for release dashed, Pincer's lifetime of training finally met its limit. He found himself slumping and couldn't be bothered to correct his posture.

"I knew you couldn't have seriously hurt me, and you had to know it too! It's almost like you were just trying to get me to... to..." Twilight frowned and her eyes grew large.

"You really want to die, don't you? The guards mentioned..." she said softly.

Pincer could only stare hollowly at her. Surely she wasn't feeling actual sympathy for him?

"You want to die because you're afraid that if you live, you'll tell us something you don't want to. You'll fail to protect them. That's why you haven't told us anything." Twilight sat on her haunches, tail curled around her hooves.

"It doesn't have to be this way. I don't know what Queen Chrysalis has told you about us, but we wouldn't just start killing changelings out of some sick sense of revenge. We aren't going to hurt anypony we don't have to. That's not how we are."

"And why wouldn't you? Would you really spare them? Aren't we your enemies?"

"Right now you are, but do you have to be?" As if asking the question had hit a switch inside her, Twilight straightened her posture a bit, giving Pincer an expectant look.

"Yes!" Pincer hissed. "We're predators. You're prey. We feed on your love. That's how we survive. Don't tell me you didn't know this."

"Well, it's true. But don't you think it's a bit of a leap to assume you have to go around terrorizing ponies and overthrowing kingdoms? We get love from other ponies like our parents, and spouses, and siblings. We didn't have to attack anyone for it."

"Don't act as if you have a better way. If you did, I wouldn't be starving. You need me alive."

"Actually, I don't yet. I've been spending the past few weeks researching it, though, so there's no reason to give up on it so quickly."

"Weeks? And you haven't come up with anything?"

Twilight shook her head and sighed. "Don't you understand how research works? These things take time and effort, especially when it's a problem like this one that nopony's looked into before. We need to read and study and experiment and guess, and there's no telling how long any particular project or problem will take. That's why ponies who study magic and other branches of science have to spend years studying their fields and possibly decades before they have any major breakthroughs. Haven't you talked to any of your scientists about what they do?" Her gaze turned upward and she put a hoof to her chin. Her horn glowed and the quill, which had been laying neglected on the floor, began scribbling furiously. "Do changelings even have scientists? Surely if you did, they would've looked into solving this problem. Surely you'd want safer ways to get food than attacking ponies."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't have years or decades. Here's one for your research logs: I can't live more than a few months without love." An enemy didn't need to know that science as a concept was actually entirely foreign to The Hive.

Like an electric shock, Pincer's words broke the stride of Twilight's lecture. Her spell blinked out, the quill floating to the ground as her head turned down and away from Pincer.

"That's right. I was so focused on correcting you that I didn't even consider... look, I'll figure something out." She took a breath.

"I promise," she said a bit too insistently. In response to Pincer's silence, Twilight let out a sigh and levitated her parchment and quill again, rolling up the former before nestling it in her saddlebag. With a last bit of magic she snapped it shut.

"I... don't really have anything else I wanted to talk about. I'm glad you told me at least a little bit about what's going on, though. I'll get back to you when I've made progress." With that, she trotted off. As the sound of Twilight having a conversation with a guard that he couldn't quite make out reached his ears, Pincer mulled over what had happened.

It was strange. He was a soldier, and since The Hive didn't even have scientists, he trusted her even less than he had the Royal Guards. Even so, it was from her that he'd received what may have been one of the few signs of solidarity he'd seen since arriving here. Odder still, he wasn't seeing any of the signs of deception he'd been trained to.

For that matter, it hardly seemed as if they'd send Twilight down if their intent was to deceive him. The Hive had gathered more than enough information on her to know that she was a scholar rather than an interrogator. She wasn't trained to lie or manipulate or break the spirits of prisoners. That was why she'd lost her temper so quickly.

What if they weren't being completely dishonest with him? Unpleasant as it was to think that he would die in here knowing only the company of those who would go to any means to destroy him, at least that left him knowing where he stood and what to do. His entire plan, his entire view of life, hinged on the idea that he couldn't expect any compassion or honesty at the hooves of ponies.

It was with a great sense of irony that Pincer realized that, despite weeks of intense effort from Celestia's best, none of his interrogations had been as confusing or as troubling as the one that had just ended.

Author's Note

Thanks to Voba, Heretical Zed, Armalite, and NoMoreSanity for prereading this one.

Breaking Point

It seemed that the ponies had liked the reaction Twilight had gotten from Pincer; she'd taken over the Royal Guards' duty of interrogating him. She was warmer than the guards at first, more open to talking about personal matters such as asking about his tastes in literature and whether there was anything she could do to make him more comfortable in between her questions. Unlike the guards, she seemed more curious about scientific matters than military intelligence, asking about his muscular structure, his transformative magic flow, and a dozen other things he wouldn't have remotely understood even if he hadn't had pounding headache from his hunger.

He'd been doing his best to hide his symptoms of hunger from her, but gradually they had progressed from aggravating to intolerable. The pounding in his head had grown persistent enough that he couldn't read more than a page or two at a time without stopping to shut his eyes, and it had made listening to Twilight for extended amounts of time exhausting. His shaking and trembling, meanwhile, had gotten so bad that standing for more than a few minutes at a time was impossible. He lay down and shut her out the best he could in the hope that she would take it for stubbornness rather than weakness, but he couldn't stop his shivering.

Lacking the Guards' professionalism, Twilight had at first grown irritated at his continued silence. Even in the beginning she rarely questioned him for more than half an hour at a time before storming away, grumbling about how she'd probably have better luck in the library. Despite her frustration and his own attempts to hide it, his deteriorating health hadn't escaped her notice. Her questions had taken on an almost pleading tone lately, and she'd actually stopped a few sessions early not because she was angry, but because he'd reached the point where he could barely focus on her. Her anger faded a bit each day, gradually giving way to nothing but sadness.

Each time, she gave a parting promise that she'd find a way to feed him soon. It always sounded insincere, but that didn't seem to be out of any lack of commitment to the task on her part. She just sounded very doubtful about her own ability to do so.

The idea of someone feeling pity for him was a hard one to bear, but by every indication Twilight was. He'd never imagined that a pony could feel pity for a changeling, but he'd been training all of his life to catch false displays of emotion, and he saw none of the signs. Of course, he reminded himself, Twilight was a formidable magician who no doubt had the support of many other unicorns, a species known for their magical powers. Surely it wouldn't be difficult for them to cast a spell that altered his perception so that her pity appeared genuine, or brew a potion that could temporarily make Twilight a perfect liar.

But if they were willing to do that, why not just hypnotize him? No, that must have been beyond their capability; otherwise they would have just done so upon capturing him. It wasn't genuine pity, then. It was magical trickery. It had to be. There was nothing to do but remain on his guard for however long he had left.

Finally, one day, Twilight brought him a gift. As soon as she'd seated herself in front of his cell, her saddlebag popped open and a book floated out of it. She made no effort to hide the hopeful look on her face.

"I bought this at a bookstore here in Canterlot. It's called Becoming Your Character, and it's all about method acting techniques used by theater ponies. I'd heard from the guards that you liked reading about this kind of thing, so I thought I'd get this for you."

She turned the book to its side to slip it through the bars, setting it down at Pincer's front hooves. He looked down at it, then back at Twilight, who was silently begging him to open it. His face was uncomprehending.

"You're giving me this?"

Twilight nodded.

"To keep?"

She nodded again.

"And in return?"

Twilight frowned. "You're not going to start that again, are you? It's yours. Have it. No one's going to take it away. I know how hard this has been for you, and I thought you could use something to cheer you up."

With some effort, Pincer managed to steady his hoof long enough to wedge it between two of the pages and crack the book open. He flipped back and forth, trying to force himself to scan paragraphs through his headache, but the throbbing pain forced him to clamp his eyes shut.

"Are you okay? Is there something else I can get you?"

He shook his head and opened his eyes, concentrating as well as he could despite his body's weakness. He hadn't read more than a few words when he felt his quivering legs buckle beneath him, causing him to hit the ground jarringly.

"Stay with me, please." Twilight's voice cracked on the last word.

At a glance, he could tell it seemed far more detailed on the subject than any of the books he'd been permitted to borrow had been. It was something he would very much like to read, and it was his. He once again looked to Twilight, whose face showed no expectation that he give her information in exchange. The doubts he'd suppressed earlier burst into his mind again before he could throttle them.

What difference did it make, though? He would be going soon anyway. It was unheard of for a changeling to survive without love much longer than he had. He had a few days, a week at most. He'd been holding his silence for over a month; he didn't think another week would be difficult for him no matter how many gifts they showered him with. He wondered if he could finish this book before he was too weak to move.

If nothing else, he supposed, he could be thankful that his last days of consciousness would be at least minimally comfortable and free of guilt or shame. He'd held out. He had something to occupy his last few days without having had to ask for it or give the enemy information for it. Though he would never see his podmates again, at least he could take solace in the fact that he'd been able to keep them safe by taking his species' secrets to his grave.

Then he felt it.

It had been so long that at first he hadn't recognized it for what it was, but his instincts quickly took over and he immediately swelled with joy on a primal level.

Twilight Sparkle was giving him selflessness. Concern. Compassion. Something he could feed on. More importantly, it was love.

Automatically, he closed his eyes and began to draw in the energy flowing over him with every bit of strength his weary body could muster. Every ounce of awareness he had was focused on feeding and only on feeding, and he drank it as though he were a pony dying of thirst who'd been pushed beneath a dripping pump.

His source of nourishment had run dry long before he'd had his fill, and he grappled fruitlessly at the last traces as they ebbed away. It wasn't nearly enough to completely replenish him, not after he'd gone so long without, but slowly he could feel his terrible helplessness giving way to mere exhausting weakness. Each time his head pounded was less forceful than the last, and after testing a front leg he found he had the strength to lift it, and in fact had enough left over to plant it on the ground and start using it to push himself up.

Twilight was on the ground. For a moment he could only stare in confusion, but then the events that had just happened truly sank in. He'd really done it. He'd drained love from her, and that always caused physical exhaustion in the source of the meal. He hadn't been able to take much, so it was surprising at first to see that she had apparently lost a great deal of strength, but she had surely been just as surprised as he was.

He was still wrapping his mind around the seeming impossibility of a pony voluntarily and freely caring enough about him enough that he could feed off of it when cantering hoofsteps and shouts from somewhere to the right captured his attention. A pair of pegasus guards then trotted over to Twilight, one leaning down to examine her face and the other glaring at Pincer.

"What have you done to her?"

He tried and failed to find words.

"Don't give me that look. She was right in front of you. Make no mistake. If you've seriously hurt her, you will answer to Princess Celestia."

"She's conscious," said the second pegasus guard, glancing up. "Are you okay? Can you stand?"

Twilight nodded, and the guard standing over her stepped back. Slowly, swaying as she did so, she pulled herself to a standing position. After assuring the guard that she was fine, she turned to Pincer, mouth agape and eyes wide.

"Wh—how... since when..." She took a step forward and pointed her horn at him. "Okay, I'm done playing nice! You'd better start talking! What was that? How could you possibly do something like that? Your magic was blocked, and besides, you didn't even have the strength to st—"

Twilight raised her head and blinked.

"You... you're standing." She looked up and down, eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. "And you're not shaky, and you've got your head up and you're listening attentively. You're definitely more lively than you were, but there's only one way that could happen."

She smiled in apparent satisfaction, then looked over her shoulder at the guards. "Thanks for your help, but I've got it from here."

"Miss Sparkle," said one with concern, "that prisoner just attacked you with some sort of magic despite his restraints. It's too dangerous for you to be with unattended."

Twilight's smile didn't waver. "You don't have to worry. Trust me on this. I know exactly what he did and how to handle it."

The guard glanced at his companion, then back at Twilight. "Are you absolutely sure, Miss Sparkle?"

Twilight nodded. After a wary glance at Pincer, the guard sighed. "Very well, Miss Sparkle. If you need us, we'll remain in shouting distance."

"I appreciate the concern, but really, I'll be fine," Twilight said, now frowning. The guard nodded again and slowly began trotting away, his companion trailing behind him.

"Now," Twilight said, turning to Pincer and looking as though he might start trotting in place. "I'm glad I figured out a way to feed you love. I can't say I was expecting it to happen that way, but I'm glad you're on your hooves again!"

Pincer eased himself into a sitting position. "This... this wasn't supposed to be possible," he said, more to himself than her.

"What do you mean?"

"I shouldn't have been able to feed off that. That can't happen if you just wanted me alive for what I knew. You would've had to..." He sighed. "Cadance did something, didn't she?"

Twilight couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Cadance isn't here. She's never once come to this cell."

"She can cast love spells. She's the only one. It's the only way. She... she must be hiding or something."

"Cadance can only create mutual love. If she'd somehow turned invisible and been involved, you'd have felt it too."

"That I know of. That's what they told us."

"Well, do you trust what 'they' told you?"

"But... they also said... they said a pony would never care about a changeling if they knew what we were. So... then..."

"Then something they told you had to be wrong, didn't it?"

"Well...what we thought we knew about Cadance was wrong. It had to be. Either that or you somehow managed to change her spell and cast it yourself."

"Have you ever heard of a spell that could be cast without anypony nearby noticing?"

"No, but that doesn't mean it can't happen!"

"Then doesn't that apply to a pony caring about a changeling, too?"

"No, it doesn't!" Pincer waved a hoof in the air. "Look at us! Ponies don't like bugs, certainly not large bugs, and especially not large bugs that try to overthrow their government to feed off them!"

"Well, actually, I don't think you're some horribly ugly monster. In fact, to me you look kind of fascinating."

"Like an exotic test subject."

Twilight looked mortified. "What? Oh, no! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. Oh, I'm not sure how to put this..." She cleared her throat.

"Look, you're different from us and I find that interesting, but that doesn't make you any worse than a gryphon or a zebra. I don't think you're just some unusual life form to analyze and measure. Have I ever treated you that way?" She sounded as if there were a right answer to this question and she was expecting him to say it.

It was the sort of thing Pod Leader Scarab liked to do. Would Scarab have been proud of Pincer, of how well he'd resisted their interrogation techniques and how he'd refused to fall for their tricks? Or would it not have been enough? Certainly there were things Pincer could have handled better than he did. He took a breath, knowing he would have to die without getting that answer. There was nothing to do but continue to resist, as was his duty.

"You wanted me to trust you," he said evenly. "You don't care. You're faking it."

Twilight huffed, then took a moment to rub her eye with a hoof. She abruptly stopped and gasped, and Pincer found himself hoping she'd injured herself or remembered an important appointment or anything else that might end the interrogation.

His hopes were dashed when he saw her raise her head with an anticipating, hopeful look.

"Are you familiar with a spell called 'Want It, Need It'?"

Pincer didn't have to think long to pin it down. He'd recalled hearing from Antenna a few months before the invasion about a time when she'd been infiltrating Ponyville and had fallen victim to a spell that had seized her with an irresistible urge to take possession of a simple child's doll at any cost. She would've given up the world just to touch it, she'd said.

Terror seized him. Was she going to—?

"Why? What are you planning? Tell me! Why do you want to know?"

"You know what it does, then."

"Yes! Yes, I know! Now tell me! Why? What're you doing?!"

"I just want you to answer one question. If getting you to talk was the only thing I cared about, why didn't I enchant, say..." She glanced down. "...my saddlebag would work, and hold it out of your reach? Then I could get you to tell me everything if I told you I'd give it to you in return."

Pincer's training was not enough to stop him from shaking. "You... this is it... you... you're really going to..."

Twilight rapidly shook her head. "No. I didn't, and I won't. Because that would be a horrible thing to do to somepony. Can't you understand? I want to help you!"

Pincer stood there for a moment, taking in her words. As much as he hated to admit it, what he'd been seeing just didn't line up at all with what he thought he knew. There was no conceivable gambit he could think of her going through that would've been worth the trouble of not simply casting the spell on him and being done with it. It certainly wasn't worth the considerable effort that would've gone into the undoubtedly difficult task of finding some way to create love for him to feed on if Twilight had none.

Surely, though, there were some reasons she might have been unable or unwilling to cast the spell on him? Maybe it couldn't actually be used to get information out of someone because they would be too driven to get the object to even engage in conversation. Did that contradict what information Antenna had been able to gather? He didn't want to think it did, but he had the nagging feeling he'd heard somewhere that ponies under the influence of the spell still talked. Maybe they thought that having him willingly give them information would make good propaganda? Hardly. If anything, knowledge of a willingly cooperating changeling would turn public opinion against total destruction of The Hive.

No one at The Hive would have believed that ponies would ever treat changelings decently, though, even solely to get information. Cruel manipulation and calculated betrayal of trust just didn't fit with the idea that ponies thought changelings were too mindlessly brutal to pretend to befriend and too lacking in any sort of trust to betray. Ever since he'd gotten here, they'd been providing him with decent meals, proper medical care, recreation, and a reasonably comfortable place to sleep — treatment more like what he would expect ponies to give each other than what he would expect them to give a changeling.

All of that aside, it had been a terribly long time since he'd had the company of someone he could consider a friend. He couldn't be entirely certain he could trust Twilight, but in light of everything that had happened, the odds had become good enough for him to be willing to take the chance. Even if she didn't start out with the intention to, it was quite possible that she'd become invested enough in the role she'd taken to end up being sympathetic to him.

If nothing else, the possibility of gaining a sympathizer was worth the risk.

"Okay. I think... maybe you're not like that. I was just so sure. I never thought a pony could... I'm..." He swallowed and looked down.

"M—my mistake," he mumbled.

The silence that followed felt unreal, as though by uttering the statement he'd crossed the threshold into some impossible world that he was never meant to be in. Still, as when he made a mistake in The Hive, it was only proper to acknowledge his error and accept the consequences. Accepting that the impossible had happened, he looked back up, expecting her to prepare to mete out punishment. Instead, she was smiling delightedly.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you say that. I think we can get a lot more done now that we've opened up a bit."

"Wait... you're not mad?"

Twilight shook her head, then levitated a quill and piece of parchment out of in front of her from her saddlebag. "I was actually getting kind of annoyed you weren't considering that maybe you'd misjudged me. How can I be mad now that I've got the chance to really talk with you?"

"I couldn't really know you'd be different."

"Different from who?"

"The other ponies. Look, maybe you want to help me, but they don't. Ponies hate changelings. They still want to destroy The Hive, and even if you aren't in on it, That's what Celestia and the rest are doing."

She looked taken aback. "That doesn't even make sense! Whenever there's any sort of conflict with the buffalo, or the zebras, or the gryphons, Celestia always tries to settle things peacefully! She's raised me and taught me since I was a filly. Celestia isn't going to burn down your home and kill you all because you attacked us!"

"My Queen says otherwise, and my Queen has known Celestia for a lot longer than you have. This wasn't the first conflict between changelings and ponies, Sparkle. Celestia never liked us. She forced us into hiding long ago, and that's why we've always had to sneak and steal to stay alive."

"What, Chrysalis told you that? She was wrong about me, wasn't she? Don't you think that maybe she could be wrong again?"

"Do you think we chose this?" Pincer asked, baring his fangs. "Being outcasts, barely surviving, and the training... all those threats and beatings, if I'd ever had any choice... it was Celestia's fault!"

"Threats? Beatings?" Twilight frowned in concern. "W—what are you... did they really do that to you over there? How could they? And what would Celestia have to do with that?"

The traces of anger on Pincer's face vanished as quickly as they had appeared. "Ask her. Ask her about the last time your kind learned of us. She was there, and she was the one who sealed our fate," he intoned.

Skepticism colored Twilight's face, but she nodded. "Okay. I will. I'm sure that things aren't as bad as you're telling me, though."

"You'll find out. If she doesn't tell you the truth, she'll decide she's done playing nice and have you use that spell on me so she can go through with her plans. And Sparkle?"

Judging by the way Twilight's ears pricked up at the last two words, she knew he was getting ready to say something he considered important.

"My name is Pincer. When we're gone, will you remember it?"

Twilight frowned, her ears drooping slightly.

"Pincer," she said quietly. "So, you really do have names."

She nodded. "I'll remember it, but you won't be gone. I, along with Celestia, am going to prove we ponies aren't who Chrysalis says we are."

Twilight turned and walked away, back straight and pace steady. Once she was out of sight, Pincer flipped the book she had given him back to the first page and began reading it; after all, this book could very well be his last.

Conditioning And Extinction

As she again approached the doors to Celestia's throne room, Twilight felt a twinge of unease. It was unthinkable that the Princess would manipulate ponies into genocide, but she wondered what could cause the changelings to harbor a grudge for centuries.

"Mrs. Watcher, could you tell the Princess I need to speak with her about the prisoner, please?"

"Sure thing, Miss Sparkle. Just sit tight." Vigilant Watcher's horn glowed, and she disappeared behind the door.

Even though she didn't take Pincer at his word, Twilight shuffled her hooves nervously. Celestia could and would withhold information she considered dangerous; her handling of the return of Nightmare Moon had proven that. It was worryingly plausible that Celestia would spare the details of some earlier encounter with the changelings if some stray spell or overzealous pony had caused something she would never approve of.

On the other hoof, Celestia had had a very good reason to hide the truth of Nightmare Moon from her. It was because she'd told Twilight not to worry and to make some friends that the Element Bearers had ever come together to begin with, and they never would have defeated her otherwise. Being deceptive to help save Equestria and rescue her sister was a very different thing from being deceptive to cover up a crime she'd committed, and Twilight couldn't imagine Celestia doing the latter.

Even so, nervousness gnawed at her.

The door eased itself open and Mrs. Watcher emerged from behind it, smiling. "She says you can come in."

Twilight nodded and mumbled her thanks, privately wishing Celestia had been occupied. The distance from the door to the spot in front of the throne seemed much longer than it had ever been, and at her reluctant pace, the walk there seemed to take an eternity. Even Celestia's usual smile was doing little to calm her nerves.

"Is everything okay, Twilight?"

Twilight nodded. "I was just wondering about, uh, something the changeling told me."

"You convinced him to talk, then?"

"Well, not very much, but a bit." Twilight popped open her saddlebag and unfurled a scroll from it.

"I fed him love," she said, her eyes darting back and forth across it. "I was worried about him because he could barely move, and I wanted so badly for him to survive and get better. He still looked pretty hungry when he left, but I think he'll be okay for awhile."

Celestia's smile broadened in approval. "You've done something wonderful, Twilight. I was getting quite worried about the changeling, and not only did you quite possibly save his life, but you've proven that a pony can feed a changeling of her own free will. I'd been hoping that we could peacefully coexist with them, but you have given me reason to believe we can."

Despite the situation, Twilight couldn't help blushing and laying back her ears.

"Now, please tell me what you were able to learn from him."

"Oh, right!" Twilight looked back down at the parchment. "Well, to start with, his name's Pincer. It looks like every changeling has a name, so they might be more individualistic than we'd first assumed. That's another good sign.

"He didn't say much else, but I was able to pick up a few other things from what he told me. It sounds like he and the other changelings underwent some kind of training where they were verbally and physically abused. And..." Twilight's voice lowered. "It seemed like he was used to the idea. Like it was all normal."

Twilight's tail swished. "And what's more, he was sure we all hated changelings. Not just because of their attack on the wedding, either. He talked as if we'd all been trained to hate them since birth, even though I think you're the only one who knew they existed. And, well...." Twilight swallowed, lowered the parchment, and looked straight at Celestia.

"According to him, this wasn't the first conflict between ponies and changelings. He said that sometime long ago, changelings used to live openly, but were forced into hiding and infiltrating because you'd tried to... commit genocide." Twilight quickly shook her head. "There's no way I'll believe him just because he said that, especially if he's been listening to Chrysalis. But can you tell me how you recognized the changelings, or if something happened that'd help me figure out why he's so convinced that we're out to destroy them?"

Celestia's smile vanished and, taking a breath, she stood more rigidly.

"Yes. Yes, you're correct. I recognized changelings because Equestria crossed swords with them many centuries ago. As a matter of fact, it was about three hundred years after I banished... Nightmare Moon.

"The changelings of that age were not like the ones we know today. Chrysalis was still their queen, but she was far less experienced. She didn't attempt to use subtlety or the ability of changelings to transform as she did in the most recent invasion. Instead she directed her drones as though they were a swarm of locusts, and they devoured anything in their path. They barely used their ability to transform except to create confusion during battles.

"I can't tell you exactly where they came from, only that we first encountered them on our western border. With no guardsponies present and the local ponies too badly outnumbered to defend themselves, several of Equestria's border towns were completely destroyed. The ponies who hadn't died in the fighting were trapped in some sort of cocoons so that the changelings could use them for food."

Celestia's head lowered and her ears drooped. "I led some royal guards to save them. Most of them had been drained to death by the time we'd arrived. All we could do was to free the ponies and ensure that the changelings could not destroy any more towns.

"When they attacked again, we were ready. They left us with no choice but to fight, and to kill. They were vicious and relentless, utterly unwilling to listen to us and throwing themselves at us despite their many losses. Not having absorbed love like she had before the wedding, Chrysalis was unable to match me, and they were forced to retreat after having been devastated. Hundreds attacked us. No more than fifty survived.

"I don't know why Chrysalis and her drones were so persistent even in the face of utter defeat. Perhaps they'd run out of other nearby food sources. Perhaps it had become a matter of pride for her. Either way, she came perilously close to fighting to the death of her entire species.

"I cannot deny that several hundred years ago, we were very nearly responsible for the complete extinction of changelings. I would never have done it if I'd had a choice, though. At no point did I ever desire their extermination."

Twilight's eyes were wide.

"This is surprising for you, I'm sure," Celestia continued. "It's not something your average pony knows about. If they find out that the changelings already attacked us once before, it will become even more difficult to convince them not to condemn the entire race. Because of that, I ask that you not tell anyone about this unless you believe it absolutely necessary."

Twilight mulled over this for a moment, hoof to her chin, then nodded. "Of course, Princess. Thank you for trusting me with this." Celestia nodded.

"Anyway," Twilight said, "I think Pincer will be more willing to open up to ponies besides me if I can get him to understand that, but I'm not really sure what to do." She rolled her eyes. "He's just going to say that you're lying about everything so that I'd keep getting him to try to talk so that you can finish the job."

Celestia nodded again. "A lifetime of conditioning is difficult to break, but you've been making steady progress, and so has Pincer. You have been telling him the truth and acting as a friend to him, and it has worked. It's taken time, and it will take more time still, but you have my confidence."

Twilight nodded, her posture having straightened a bit since Celestia began speaking. "Of course, Princess. I'll let you know when I've made my next major breakthrough."

Celestia smiled again. "And I look forward to seeing you again when that happens."

"Me too, Princess."

With that, Twilight bowed, turned, and walked back toward the doors.

"Do you expect me to believe that, Sparkle?"

Twilight merely shook her head; she'd expected Pincer to react this way as soon as Celestia told her the story the previous day. "Well, no. Not if you'd been hearing a different version of the story all your life."

"The real version."

"What makes you so sure? Haven't changelings been wrong before?"

"Chrysalis was there!"

"So was Celestia."

It was Pincer's turn to shake his head. "She has every reason to lie."

"But she hasn't been trying very hard to spread it, has she?" Twilight asked, shifting her weight to her front legs. "Very few ponies know that story, even after the wedding. I'm sure none of them have mentioned it to you since you were captured. Don't you think that if Celestia had made that up to demonize you, she'd be shouting it from the rooftops? I didn't even know about it until I asked her."

Pincer briefly tilted his head up and his eyes flicked towards the ceiling. He'd had limited contact with others during his stay, but not once did he hear any of them mention anything about the events of seven hundred years ago. Even so, he decided, that didn't prove anything.

"She may have told them not to repeat it around me."

Twilight waved a hoof. "Actually, I haven't heard anypony talking about it either. She specifically told me not to repeat it except to you because she didn't want ponies to have another reason to be hostile to you."

Pincer scraped a hoof against the ground. "I still can't trust her. She'd make it look like she was my friend if she thought it would get me to talk."

"Why go through that ruse at all? She knows the Want It Need It spell, too."

She had a point. As formidable as Twilight was, even she paled in comparison to Celestia. Celestia surely had at least one way to force him to give up the answers, possibly more. If this was all some act of cold manipulation, he had a hard time seeing the sense in it.

"Maybe you're right, but what about the others in The Hive? Are you going to tell me she cares about them? I can't say I really care what happens to me if all my friends and family are dead, especially if I have to live knowing it was my fault."

"She wouldn't do that. She just wants to keep Equestria safe."

"I'm sure she does, but how far is she willing to go?"

Twilight frowned for a moment before screwing up her face in thought. Then, with an air of finality, she pulled her posture rigid. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Pincer balked. "What?"

"Well, I think that once you try talking to her, you'll understand her better. I'm sure she'd be willing to listen and answer your questions."

"I don't think it would help."

"Why not give it a try, though?" Twilight smiled reassuringly. "You don't have to be afraid. She's not going to hurt you."

"That's not it at all," Pincer said in his best dismissive tone. Twilight stopped smiling, but leaned forward curiously. "It just wouldn't go anywhere."

"You know, I'll bet that for a long time, you felt the same way about talking with me. You won't know until you try." She smiled again.

"What's there to say?" Pincer asked with a shrug.

"You could..." Twilight tapped her chin. "...ask her yourself what she wants. Or tell her about how things have been for you here. I know she'd want to make sure you weren't being mistreated. And besides, do you have much else to do?"

Pincer's thoughts turned back to Nurse Clean Bill, and he found himself wondering if Celestia would be unlike the authorities at The Hive, who would have reacted to such reports with indifference and impatience. He wasn't feeling brave enough to find out.

That was strange to think about. Back when he'd first been captured, some part of him had been hoping that Celestia would want to see him personally. When he'd been completely certain that he was going to die miserably and pointlessly in the castle, the chance to personally defy his greatest enemy before he breathed his last would have been one of only a few small sources of comfort.

Now though, he thought as he looked at Twilight, he had something to lose.

"Actually, there's the book," he said. "The one from yesterday. You gave it to me. It's been very good." He swallowed and drew himself rigid. Having little else to do and enjoying it so much, he'd actually nearly finished it already.

"Thank you," he said, the words nearly running together.

She smiled. "You're welcome. I'd heard from a pony it was one of the best on its subject, and I guess they were right." Her gaze drifted upward, and she frowned. "You can finish reading it before you talk to Celestia, if that's what you want. I know what it's like to be absorbed in a book."

Pincer turned over in his mind what she'd just told him. Even during his infiltration missions, he'd never truly gotten such a chance. When a pony told him to relax and enjoy himself, he still needed to constantly monitor his behavior and be act in certain ways consistent with the personality he'd established for his disguise. Doing what he wanted to because he purely wanted to do it felt almost improper.

Twilight was turning around. "If that's everything, I'll check with you tomorrow," she said.

"Wait."

Her hooves scuffed against the floor as she turned on the spot. She looked at him, eyebrow raised.

"I'll talk to her. Please, as soon as possible."

Twilight's confused expression lingered. "But you just said—"

"You're right. I have questions for her."

"What about your—"

"It can wait."

Twilight blinked. "Well, if that's really what you want, I'll head up to the throne room and ask her if she'd have time to talk with you."

"Yes, thank you," Pincer said with a nod.

"Okay. I should be back in a few minutes. In the meantime, just wait here..." She glanced at the bars and grinned sheepishly. "...though I guess you kind of have to. Sorry, I'll be quick!" She punctuated her statement with an embarrassed laugh, then slipped around a corner and out of view.

Pincer went back to reading his book, but only got through a few pages before Twilight returned. She was positively beaming.

"Great news," she said. "Celestia actually just got done with a long review of some legislation, so she has some time to meet with you!"

"When?" Strain crept into Pincer's voice.

"Right now, actually. The guards are on their way to open your cell."

Pincer felt his stomach drop out of him. "Right now? But, I mean, I wasn't ready. I need more time to think about what I'll say."

"Oh, um, well...." Twilight was blushing, ears laid back. "I already told her you'd be right over, so she'll be expecting you soon."

"You what?"

Twilight cringed. "I'm sorry! Look, it'll be okay. We talked about this. Just tell her what's on your mind and what you're worried she'll do. Then you can go from there."

If there was anything for Pincer to be thankful for about his upbringing, it was that it had made him very adept at hiding fear. "Look, I know you've got enough traditions and rules of conduct in your Royal Court to fill a book, because I read it. I don't want to ruin everything because I forgot the number of seconds to bow or the titles of any of her staff. You need to..." He looked left and right. "...make me sick. You probably have a spell for that. Tell them I suddenly came down with something, then later you can get me the book on royal conduct so I can use it to prepare. No reason to waste a chance."

With an apologetic smile, Twilight shook her head. "There won't be any need for that, really. Celestia's really not as uptight as a lot of the Canterlot nobles are. She's not going to throw you out because you forgot some rule buried in a book. If she was like that, she would've dropped me as her student a long time ago. All you need to do is be polite and respectful, and you'll be fine."

"She's Celestia. Would you be 'polite and respectful' to Queen Chrysalis?"

Before Twilight could answer, they heard the clopping of hooves. Twilight turned, then stepped to the side to let a pair of unicorn guards through the hallway. They stopped in front of Pincer's cell, giving him a good enough look to recognize one of them as Mystic Saber. As the other eyed him, Saber charged his horn with green magical energy. There was a click, and the cell door wearily creaked open.

"Out."

Pincer thought of attacking the guards as an easy way out of the meeting, but he stopped upon seeing that Twilight was smiling hopefully. Suddenly, it felt like assaulting a guard would be a betrayal of her trust. He'd betrayed the trust of plenty of ponies, of course, but that had been false trust placed in who he was pretending to be. Someone who was willing to befriend him and give him a chance despite knowing everything about him was entirely different. Even looking at it from a purely practical standpoint, he doubted she'd be feeding him again if he did.

He fell into formation, Saber in front of him, the other guard behind him. The walk to the throne room, which would've seemed interminable to begin with, dragged on even longer because of the guards' slow, deliberate pace. Once they were out of the dungeons and in the grand halls of the public parts of the castle, here and there he caught glances of Canterlot nobles wandering or chatting with each other. Most stopped to stare as he passed; some narrowed their eyes, others curled their lips, and one recoiled as he passed by.

Finally he was standing in front of the dominating, minutely polished marble and gold doors of Princess Celestia's throne room. Saber said something to the mare standing at the doors, who nodded, opened one, and disappeared inside the throne room. He didn't know how long he had to wait, staring at them, knowing that a great enemy he could never hope to defeat was on the other side. His imagination allowed a fresh wave of terror to seize him by the time they finally slid open completely and the other guard standing at them waved him in. He started walking in forced, stiff motions, as though he were a marionette.

Celestia held up a hoof, signaling him to stop. Standing there, at the center of the room, he was finally forced to look upon her and truly confront the figure he had hated for as long as he could remember.

Pincer had never seen Chrysalis face-to-face, and if what he experienced when he locked eyes with Celestia was any indication, he hoped he never would. As intimidating as Commander Formic was, at least she was an ordinary changeling like himself. Even Twilight's immense magical ability was something he could suppress his fear of because he could pretend she was an ordinary unicorn if he tried hard enough. Such was not possible with Celestia; every single shimmering hair of her mane and tail that billowed in some breeze he could not feel, radiated immeasurable power. Her catlike sitting posture, not betraying the slightest hint of doubt or uncertainty, did nothing to ease his fears. Suddenly, he imagined her calling down burning rays from the heavens, disintegrating him before he could scream. He forced the image out of his mind.

He was thankful that Canterlot tradition, if not cast in iron, gave him an excuse to wait for her to speak first. He couldn't have summoned the words to start a conversation if he had a year.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Pincer," Celestia said. "I understand you were badly injured when my guards found you. I heard from Dr. Hooves that you made a full recovery, though."

"Yes," Pincer said in a wheeze. He took a ragged breath. When he spoke again, his voice came in a low monotone. "I did. I'm fine."

Celestia nodded, and Pincer thought he saw a ghost of a smile play across her face. "I'm glad to know that. I also heard from Twilight that she was able to feed you love."

"She did. She fed me."

Celestia nodded again. "She also tells me that after that happened, she began building up something of a kinship with you."

"Yes. Of sorts."

"I would like you to tell me something, then. After what you've experienced here, are you gaining a better understanding of who we are?"

Pincer's eyes flicked left and right; he felt a trace of comfort knowing that Celestia probably couldn't tell. "Yes."

Celestia chuckled. "I'm afraid you'll have to tell me a bit more than that. What has changed, exactly?"

A silence hung over the throne room as Pincer whipped his mind for words. When he found them, his tone was even. "A pony giving a changeling love, knowing that she was giving it to a changeling, was supposed to be impossible. A pony attempting to befriend a changeling was supposed to be impossible." She looked at him as though expecting him to continue, but he hesitated.

"And yet it's happened," she said. "Is there anything else you see differently now? Anything you might be having second thoughts about?"

Now she was getting to the point. "If you're referring to your plans for us if you find The Hive..." He took a breath. "I can't afford to trust you about that."

"In spite of what you have seen?"

Pincer found it in himself to arch forward slightly. "I was willing to trust Twilight, but their lives aren't mine to risk."

"That's certainly a noble sentiment," Celestia said softly, "and it's one of many reasons why I don't want to destroy your kind. You have already proven to me that you may not be so different from my little ponies. I can assume, then, that you did not believe Twilight when she told you what actually happened seven hundred years ago?"

Pincer shook his head.

"I understand, of course, that you wouldn't immediately disbelieve the story you'd been told your entire life simply because you heard a different one later. I had hoped, however, that conflicting evidence would lead you to reconsider their account of those events."

She flared her wings, rose to a standing position, and began regally striding down the carpeted steps. "Pincer, I want you to come with me."

He shrank back before he could stop himself. "With you? Where?"

"To a local pastry shop."

Pincer blinked. "A... what?"

Celestia came to a stop in front of him. "I'd like you to join me for a mid-afternoon snack at a pastry shop in town. Would you be able to eat the food they have to offer, without transforming first?"

"Um... I can." He felt as if he'd stepped into a fever dream.

"Excellent!" Her warm smile made him uneasy. "Follow me then, please." She slipped past him, slowly walking toward the doors. Pincer was too flummoxed to do anything but fall into position at her side.

Carpet gave way to cobblestone beneath his hooves as they exited the castle. The courtyard was vacant except for a few guards, for which he was grateful. He may not have liked them, but he had come to appreciate their professionalism and restraint.

It was here that they had taken him to exercise daily, though the pegasi monitoring him did not permit him to fly above the castle wall. He didn't particularly enjoy the sessions, but it wasn't because he was eager to fly. He just found himself wishing he could be sparring with Antenna.

It wasn't until they left the castle grounds and entered the bustle and activity of Canterlot proper that Pincer began to feel truly exposed. Though the throngs of ponies readily parted for Celestia and most sank into brief bows as she passed, he noticed enough dubious glances and frowns among them to discern the question everybody had but nobody dared ask. He felt as though he were in the jaws of a vise.

They hadn't been walking long before Celestia was ducking beneath the awning of a modest shop, telekinetically nudging open the door. As he savored a whiff of fruit and fresh-baked bread, he tried to glance through the windows, but their decorative wooden meshes prevented him from seeing into the building.

Some of the ponies inside were already facing them when he stepped inside, their cookies or cakes forgotten. Others, who had been more absorbed in their meals or conversations, twisted on their cushions after their partners gestured towards the door. The clerk, a young earth pony stallion with a smartly-cropped mane and a bowtie, left his duties neglected; he simply stood and waited. Celestia came to a stop in the middle of the room and looked about.

"Everybody, I would like to introduce you to Pincer. Yes, he is a changeling. But he is not here as an enemy soldier or a prisoner. He is here as my personal guest, and I expect that you treat him with the same courtesy you would any other guest of the Crown. Is that understood?"

At first, the diners and staff just looked among and between themselves, as though looking for assurance that this was part of some elaborate joke, but gradually everyone's gazes drifted towards the clerk. Pincer could have sworn he saw the clerk's pupils shrink, but a moment later he cleared his throat, lightly bowed, and looked Celestia in the eyes.

"I understand perfectly, Your Majesty. Pincer will, of course, be given the hospitality any of our customers would."

Celestia smiled. "I knew I could count on your establishment to live up to its reputation. Thank you." She looked down at Pincer. "As my guest, you may order first. Choose whatever you please. Money will not be an issue."

Nudged forward by her gaze, Pincer walked up to the wooden counter, the only sound the tapping of his hooves. First he looked down through the window in the counter's side, behind which he saw rows of fat donuts and golden-brown pies. Then he looked up at the sign listing the prices. Finally he looked at the clerk, whose leg twitched.

"Donut with vanilla frosting. Please."

"Of course, sir," said the clerk a bit too loudly. He dug out a paper bag from a dispenser on the counter, bent down, and pushed one of the donuts into it. He then dropped it onto the table for Pincer.

"Thanks." Pincer leaned forward to pick the bag up with his teeth, but stopped. A pony who was already skittish about changelings probably wouldn't react well to one moving toward him while showing a mouthful of fangs. He instead pulled the bag against his chest and dipped his head down to grab it.

After Celestia had placed her order, a key lime cupcake, she paid the clerk and seated herself on one of the cushions at a table Pincer had been hovering by. Pincer let his bag fall to the table and took a cushion perpendicular to her.

They ate in silence. The other customers slipped into pale imitations of what their activities had been before the two had entered, their nibbles and sips or questions about the weather schedule interspersed with stolen glances towards Pincer and Celestia. The donut didn't taste offensive compared to any he'd had during his time as a spy in Canterlot, but his mind was so occupied by the many eyes on him that he couldn't spare it more attention than that.

As their snacks diminished, so did his confidence that Celestia would accomplish anything meaningful under the silence and stares. He began looking back at some in turn. Some had eyes narrowed, others had eyes wide, but none of those eyes met his.

By the time his donut was gone and Celestia was dabbing the last crumbs off of her cheeks, Pincer had become certain that she had proven the exact opposite of what she'd intended to. There was nothing normal about this; he was being accepted solely by Celestia's insistence. He felt disappointed, almost cheated. Could the matriarch of Equestria, one who had entertained countless guests of high esteem and met with diplomats from across the world, really be responsible for such a farce?

"Well, Pincer, are you ready to leave?" she asked lightly. "And did you enjoy your food?"

Pincer nodded. What else was there to do when faced with such a reaction? It was strange precisely because Celestia didn't seem to notice anything strange.

They headed back to the castle, and gradually his utter confusion shoved his fear out of his mind entirely. Why, after that horribly awkward scene, did Celestia act as though everything had gone perfectly fine? The thought was still nagging him even as they entered the throne room.

The moment the throne room door closed behind them, Celestia smiled down at Pincer. "We've certainly taken an important step today, haven't we?" she asked.

Pincer inched away from Celestia's side and faced her. "I don't really know," he said, shaking his head. "There was nothing normal or casual about that outing. Everyone was staring and everywhere we passed became dead quiet. That's not what blending in looks like."

"Yes, everything you said is true," said Celestia. "I would have been a fool to expect otherwise. Even so, today they have accepted a changeling openly dining with them, however grudgingly. They have heard and carried out my desires of how you should be treated. They know there is at least one changeling out there who I have accepted and who lives here peacefully."

"That doesn't mean anything. They still would've caved my headplate in if you hadn't been there."

"Does it? I think you'll find that my authority is rather highly regarded in this land." She winked. "It will take them time to adjust to your presence. Now tell me, what do you suppose would happen if you came to that shop another day with my student? They would believe her when she told them that it had been done with my approval because you've already been to that store with my approval. Some of them might not like it, but Twilight wouldn't let them hurt you no matter how much they wanted to.

"After the twentieth or thirtieth time they see you accompanying one pony or another on a social visit to Canterlot without incident, I think many of them will come to accept that you are not a danger. It may take time, but it is possible to come to trust someone you have been led to fear."

Pincer hadn't forgotten the initial reason Celestia had given for this field test, and its outcome hadn't done anything to convince him that the version of history Twilight gave him was accurate. He wasn't sure he'd believe it even if everything worked as she expected. Even so, there seemed to be little harm in trying. With Twilight's company, it might even be enjoyable.

"I'll do it. Please inform Twilight."

"I will, Pincer. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss before we conclude our meeting?" she said warmly.

Pincer tapped a hoof against the floor. "No, nothing."

Celestia nodded. "In that case, you may consider yourself dismissed." She then frowned.

"Because you are still a prisoner of the Crown, however, I'm afraid that you will have to return to your cell now." With a turn of her head and a glow of her horn, the doors swung open.

"Lieutenant Saber, escort Pincer back to his cell."

He slowly fell in line between Saber and another guard, offering no resistance as they walked him back.

Author's Note

Thanks to Voba, Professor Plum, EricKilla, and Smirky Thread for prereading this chapter!

A Day In Town

The cell door creaked open, and the guard motioned Pincer out with a turn of his head. Twilight was waiting outside, smiling, shifting her weight between her hooves. Pincer, having risen from the desk when Twilight arrived, ambled to the door.

"Thanks for coming," she said as they began walking through the dungeon.

"I was able to get a whole day planned out," she continued. "We've got about an hour to shop around at the Starswirl Street Market before lunch at Molto Delizioso's Bistro. You'll like it. It has a really nice book stall. Anyway, that should leave us enough time to get to the concert hall to see the Canterlot Orchestra's one o'clock show, and once that's done we can make it to today's showing of Ruffled Feathers at the theater if we hurry. Then we can get you back here in time for curfew and dinner. I've told Celestia about it and she's agreed to pay for everything, so we're all set!"

Pincer nodded without looking at Twilight, but he thought he saw her skipping out of the corner of his eye.

"Now, it won't be any fun going to the market if you can't buy anything, so..." He felt a weight ease itself onto him and looked over his shoulder to find saddlebags at his sides.

"I asked Celestia about it, and she told me to give you this. There's thirty bits in the bags. That should be enough if you see a nice book, or a sculpture, or something similar."

He thanked Twilight and popped one of the bags open to peek at the pile of fat, golden coins within, thoughts drifting to what he might spend them on. He'd been to Equestrian markets during his infiltrations, but even then, every bit spent had been a calculated decision; spies were to take as much money and valuables back to The Hive as possible, for later use by those whose tasks required them to pass themselves off as wealthy ponies.

Once they were in the courtyard, the sunlight and the distant chatter made the sheer bravado of what Twilight was trying to do fully sink in. It was one thing to go to town for a quick snack with Celestia there to personally assure the ponies that he wasn't a threat, but spending an entire day among nervous townsponies? Twilight didn't have the presence Celestia did. She might not be able to keep the other ponies in line. He wasn't worried that they'd be beaten or killed; since he was a trained soldier and Twilight was a talented magician, he was sure they could handle themselves if a fight broke out. Even so, it would be a possibly unrecoverable setback.

It wasn't long after they reached the town proper that they first encountered a pony, a young unicorn mare opening the front door of a home. She happened to glance Pincer's way, her eyes widened, and then she hastily slipped inside. The door slammed shut behind her.

The others they passed did not respond any more encouragingly. Lone ponies turned around to trot away or disappeared into buildings. Mothers and fathers pushed their foals behind them. He heard a few curtains snap shut. Some of the braver ones stood their ground and glared daggers at him. There was little confusion or indecision, only recognition and swift action; word must have spread that he'd been in town before. Twilight tried to call out to them and reassure them that Pincer meant them no harm, but her pleas went unheard. Unconsciously, Pincer touched the ring on his horn.

As they got closer to the market and the streets and the shops grew more crowded, though, he noticed that fewer and fewer ponies seemed ready to run or fight at a moment's notice. Groups drew themselves tighter and everyone gave him a wide berth, but they did not stop or flee the moment they saw him. They probably felt safer in numbers, Pincer realized.

The market street was a sea of bodies through which drifted currents of families and friends, each of them flowing to or from one of the many stalls. The air was alive with rustling bags, clattering bits, and idle chatter. The merchants scuttled about, some pitching their wares to ponies who stopped or passed by, others negotiating prices, and a few scooping bits off of their tables. Pincer took a breath and caught the scent of popcorn.

For the first time since he'd joined her, Twilight hesitated. She looked left and right, then walked a tight circle to look behind her. After a few long seconds, she jabbed her hoof ahead and to the right.

"Okay, let's try that book stall first. They should have some I haven't seen before, I mean, they usually do. You'll definitely find something you haven't read. And I know the mare that runs it. Come on."

Having no better suggestions, Pincer followed Twilight to the stall. As they approached it, the stallion in line ahead of them turned and saw them, then quickly excused himself and walked away. The elderly mare running the table was left staring at them, looking as though she'd just swallowed an egg. Her thick glasses exaggerated her already wide eyes.

"Oh, Twilight! Y—you..." The mare's eyes flicked between the two, then she motioned Twilight to come closer. Twilight did so, and the mare whispered something. Pincer didn't hear what she said, but her voice was strained. Twilight backed away when the merchant was done.

"Trust me, he's fine," Twilight said. "His name's Pincer, and he's not looking for trouble. He just wants to try something new, have a day out in the town, you know? And even if he did try something, I'd stop him. Just give him a chance. Please?"

The merchant looked at Pincer, frowning, then back at Twilight.

"Well, if you say he's okay..." She turned to face Pincer again.

"Pincer, right?" the merchant said, casting a glance at Twilight. He nodded. "My name's Mrs. Bookend. It's five bits a paperback, fifteen a hardback."

Pincer nodded, then looked down at the crooked pyramid of books. He shuffled a few on the top aside, picking others at random, skimming their summaries before dropping them to something vaguely like their original positions.. He could feel Mrs. Bookend's eyes boring into him as words and phrases jumped out from the back covers:"...step-by-step instructions for the most trusted seeking and searching spells..."; "What happens when a mare of the Manehatten City Council falls for a freewheeling traveling guitarist?"; "...wants him to tend the family orchard, but when he's accepted into the Wonderbolt Academy..."; "...including a chapter of zebra cultural recipes..."; "...filly's quest to join the Las Pegasus skyball team." Finally, on a whim, he chose a murder mystery set in the Classical Era.

The bits clinked against the table, and Mrs. Bookend scraped a few into her saddlebag. She reached for more, but her hoof stopped before it touched them. She looked at Pincer, brow furrowed.

"Um, Pincer..." Twilight began.

"It's five bits," Mrs. Bookend said flatly.

"Yeah."

"You gave me ten."

"I know."

Mrs. Bookend shook her head slowly, her gray, bobbed mane swaying. "Are you... going to take five back, then?"

Pincer shook his head. "No, I'm not. Look, I know I scared off at least one of your customers. I saw him moving away when I came up. I didn't mean to cause you any trouble. I just wanted to shop a bit. This is supposed to be my problem, not yours. Take the money."

Mrs. Bookend looked at the coins, then at Pincer again, her eyes widening and her mouth drawing into a tight frown. She cleared her throat.

"Well... thank you for that, Pincer." She began scraping the rest of the bits into her bag, but when there were five left on the table, she paused. Her gaze lingered on them and her hoof hovered over them for a moment before she drew her hoof back and looked at him again.

"It was only one pony, anyway. He didn't look like he was even buying anything, really. So I'll tell you what," she said, a ghost of a smile on her face now.

"You're welcome to come back any time if you want. I'll spread the word about what you've done here, and if any of my customers have problems with me selling to you, I'll set them straight."

Pincer blinked. "Are you sure you want to do that? Think about it. It's dangerous. They could boycott you."

"Oh, don't you worry about it. Twilight will still shop here, and you know how she is. She could keep me in business all by herself."

Twilight chuckled. Pincer retrieved his purchase and extra bits and thanked Mrs. Bookend, and they made their way back into the crowded street.

"Well, it's getting easier, isn't it?"

Twilight and Pincer were in Molto Delizioso's. One could hardly look anywhere in the bistro without seeing ceramic tiles in red-and-white checkerboard colors. Paintings of mountain peaks and sweeping fields adorned the dining area, and chandeliers clung to the ceiling. Silverware clinked and the murmurs of voices drifted through the air.

The two had been seated at a booth near the back, hidden from any of the windows that lined the restaurant's storefront. Twilight's daisy sandwich was hovering in the air, ready for her to take a bite, while Pincer's fruit plate lay neglected.

Pincer, who hadn't been looking anywhere in particular, turned to Twilight. "I've been surprised a lot lately. I mean, I wasn't expecting that mare at the book stall to vouch for me, or for that stallion to stay in that line at the alchemists' booth when we got there, or for that colt who bumped into me to stick around long enough to apologize. Ponies were nervous, yeah, but the market kept going. Vendors still ran their stalls and visitors still bought from them. I was one of them, in fact."

Twilight swallowed the bite of her sandwich she'd taken and frowned. "That doesn't really answer my question, though. Isn't it getting easier?"

Pincer dipped his head down and bit off a full half of his orange, peel included. He chewed it a few times, then swallowed.

"Yes. It is. It's a strange feeling, too. I've spent most of my life learning to blend in with ponies, but it's different undisguised."

Twilight brought up her hooves and let them rest on the table. "Have you ever been to Equestria before my brother's wedding? I mean, you must have spent some time here to learn how to blend in, right?"

She knew that changelings could transform into ponies. She knew that one had taken Cadance's place. This, Pincer realized, would be pointless to lie about.

He nodded slowly. "You're right. We've been spying on you."

Twilight leaned forward. "Where were they? What did they do? Are they still here?"

Pincer shrank back. "I don't know. I haven't seen any of the others since I fell in that ravine. I'm sorry."

Twilight took a bite of her sandwich, and Pincer bit into the rest of his orange. "I guess I can understand that. I mean, it's not like you had any chance to talk to any other changelings since you were captured, and I'd think if they'd found you that they would've done something about your legs. So, you've been to Equestria before they sent you to Canterlot, right?" Twilight asked, now looking at Pincer. "Can you tell me about some of the missions you've been on?"

"Twilight...."

"You're not still scared, are you?"

Pincer bit a chunk from his grapes. "It's just not something I want to talk about right now."

Though Twilight frowned, she did not press the issue. For a few minutes, they ate their meals in silence. Twilight was no longer looking at Pincer, and it wasn't until she spoke again that she looked at him again.

"I know you ate baked goods with Princess Celestia yesterday, and it looks like you're enjoying that fruit. Could you tell me about your eating habits?" Twilight leaned forward. "What kind of food can you eat, exactly? Does everything that tastes good to us taste good to you? Are meat and love the only things that your body can actually process?"

Pincer considered the question as he chewed a piece of a banana. "We can only subsist on meat and love. We like many different kinds of food, though, even if we can't survive on it. It's different from drone to drone, too. A... a friend of mine, Antenna, she likes daisy sandwiches."

Twilight's eyebrows raised. "A friend? Can you tell me more about her?"

"Energetic. Confident. Always working to be better and stronger and faster. That friend of yours, Rainbow Dash, reminded me of her."

"A changeling like Rainbow Dash?" Twilight chuckled. "I'll have to tell her about that."

Pincer thumped a hoof against the table. "Wait! Please, you can't just go around telling people this. If anything happened to the others..." He swallowed.

Twilight shook her head. "It's just a harmless detail. There are plenty of ponies who act like Rainbow Dash in some way, I'm sure."

She drew herself upright. "And besides, are you still so scared of us? You said things are getting easier, right? I think you'll find that if we work at it, ponies and changelings can live together peacefully. It's not like we're going to start killing any changelings we find."

Pincer locked eyes with Twilight. "I don't think you're as evil as Chrysalis always said, no, but I'm still not ready to bet my friends' lives on Equestria's playing nice. We're all picking our risks here."

Twilight's eyes were narrow, her mouth drawn tight.

"You said this field test of Celestia's would take time," Pincer continued. "I'll give it time. But I don't want to tell you anything until I've seen enough to be sure it won't come back to hurt them. I'm sure you'd feel the same way if you felt like your friends, or your brother, or your dragon were the ones on the line."

She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Her face was pained as she looked at him, but apparently having nothing further to say, she simply bit into her sandwich and started chewing with more vigor than she had before.

They finished their meals in silence. It wasn't long before they finished their meals, paid, and left. Though they had time to spare and Pincer was in no particular hurry to see the Orchestra perform, Twilight practically trotted in place in anticipation whenever forced to wait for him.

The sun was still high in the sky when the concert ended. Ponies spilled out of the concert hall, diverging at the broad, towering fountain across from the doors, fanning out in every direction as they got closer to the street. A small bubble formed in the crowd, at the center of which were a changeling and a unicorn.

"That was a waste of time," Pincer said accusingly.

"Well, I liked it, and so did the physicist at Canterlot University who recommended it to me," Twilight said defensively. Then, in admonishment, "you needed to sit back and just listen to the music. Instead you spent the whole time trying to talk to me, and that's kind of hard to do over blaring trumpets."

"I tried to enjoy it. Didn't work. That's why I was talking to you in the first place."

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Gee, I'm sorry I took you to a concert for free. I should've known you wouldn't like it before you did."

Pincer looked down and away.

"Hey, is something wrong? I wasn't that upset, really," Twilight said.

He looked back at her apologetically. "It's what you said, that's all. It's, well, easy to forget that you're trying to make sure I have a good time. I'm not really used to that."

"Don't worry about it," Twilight said, smiling reassuringly. "I think you'll like this play more, anyway, considering how much you loved those books I gave you."

To their left, a cart banged and rattled. The earth pony mare pulling it tried to back up but bumped into it, only briefly taking her eyes off Pincer to glance behind her. Pincer trotted away, closely followed by Twilight.

"So, this play, what's it about?" he asked Twilight hastily.

"Oh, it's called Ruffled Feathers. It's about a war between Equestria and the Gryphon Kingdom a few hundred years ago. There was a particularly harsh winter one year and we were having a hard time growing enough food, and some pony explorers who'd gone far north to the mountains look for places to farm accidentally settled in gryphon land.

"The gryphon nation at the time was extremely territorial, but the explorers couldn't leave without dying because it was the only arable land for miles. It didn't take long for fighting to break out. The gryphons were furious, and they were threatening to attack Equestria in retaliation for what happened. It was Princess Celestia who was able to negotiate a peaceful solution, and the explorers who survived the battles were free to return home."

Pincer thought for a moment as they turned into a narrow street, cloaked in shade. "You get along with the gryphons fairly well today, despite the war."

"Well, it happened out of desperation and ended peacefully before things could escalate too much. The only one who's even old enough to remember it is Celestia, and she wanted to repair relations between us rather than bear a grudge over it."

They stopped at the edge of the crowd in front of the theater, and the first thing that ran through Pincer's mind was "uptight." That wasn't a good sign, since he'd gotten the exact same impression at the concert hall. Most of the stallions were in pressed, buttoned-up suits, most of the mares in frilly dresses. None of them said anything or tried to move away when they noticed him, but a few looked at him as though he were an oversized maggot.

Pincer was greeted by a musty, oaken smell as he and Twilight passed through the wooden arch at the theater's entrance and stepped into the interior, which was carpeted and softly lit by candles in wall sconces. A low din, almost hushed somehow, came from the many small groups of patrons conversing among themselves.

When Twilight presented their tickets at the window, the unicorn mare on the other side cast a concerned glance at Pincer, followed by a pleading look at her.

"He's the... are you sure he should be here?"

Twilight nodded. "Yes, with the Princess's permission. Here, see for yourself." She produced a note bearing Celestia's seal and gave it to the ticket-taker. The ticket-taker's eyes flicked back and forth as she read it, apparently chewing her tongue. When she was done, she slowly nodded and gave the note back to Twilight, then hesitantly gave her their ticket stubs.

They ascended a narrow staircase and emerged at the top level of the many vast half-rings of seats. Far below them was a stage concealed by a red curtain. it was brightly lit from both above and below by spotlights.

"Quick, Pincer, let's find our seats. They've charged the spotlights, so the play will probably be starting any minute." Twilight trotted up to the railing, looking back and forth, up and down.

Pincer walked up and pressed against the railing next to her. "Magic-powered lamps? I remember reading about these in that history book."

"Oh, you have?" Twilight asked, continuing to scan the seats.

"Yeah. Safer than gas lamps and don't need fuel, but they have to be charged every couple of hours by a unicorn. Not useful for things like street lights that need to run for hours or days at a time, but they last long enough for something like a play."

"See? Reading and learning can be fun, even if it's not about something you really need to know," she said, smiling approvingly. She then pointed down and to their right with a hoof. "There they are."

Twilight grimaced. "I'm afraid we won't be as lucky as we were at the orchestra. You won't get an aisle seat. I'm not sure how a stranger's going to handle sitting next to you."

Pincer looked over where Twilight had pointed. To the left of their seats was a young colt; to the right was a unicorn stallion wearing a monocle. Neither option was appealing, but the child would be far more frightened of him than a grown pony. The right seat it was, then.

When he told Twilight his intentions, she nodded in understanding, and they made their way over to their row. Unfortunately, he would need to squeeze past several ponies to make it to his seat, including the colt. He considered flying to his seat — the ceiling was certainly high enough for it — but immediately realized that ponies would probably find a large insect buzzing over their heads even more alarming than one squeezing past them. Twilight had begun edging past the seated ponies and so, bracing himself, he followed.

He could hear their dismayed and disbelieving mutterings as he passed. Some of the ponies drew ramrod-stiff as he passed; others pushed themselves back against their seats as though hoping to disappear into them. As Pincer went by the young colt, his mother sitting next to him threw her front leg in between him and Pincer.

None of them screamed or ran. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

The stallion gave Pincer a tight-jawed, narrow-eyed look as Pincer sat down. Twilight, who had just seated herself, leaned forward and gave the stallion a reassuring smile and wave. He calmed down and faced forward again, but still gave Pincer occasional wary glances.

It wasn't long before the curtain flapped and a stallion, maroon-coated and wearing a tuxedo, walked up to the microphone at the front of the stage.

"I'd like to thank everyone for coming here today," he began, his words silencing the hundreds or thousands of conversations in the audience within seconds of each other.

"Without further delay, I am proud to announce that it is time for tonight's production of Ruffled Feathers, as performed by the Canterlot Theater Company."

The audience stomped their hooves, and Pincer, after an uncertain glance around, joined them. There was a squeaking of pulleys as the curtain opened, and the applause tapered off.

Behind the curtain was a backdrop painted with a bold, vibrant image of a grassy field with rolling, snowy hills. A pair of earth ponies entered from the left, bundled in heavy winter coats, scarves, and hats, and each carrying fat saddlebags. The one in front, a mare Pincer presumed to be playing the leader, stopped. The others halted behind her.

"Such lifeless land!" the mare playing the follower said in a tired-sounding voice, looking about. She shivered, though in reality she must have been sweating from wearing so much clothing on a summer day. "Oh, Harvest Moon, can the future of Equestria truly depend on whether we can till its soil?"

The mare in front raised a hoof. "Faith, Green Leaf. Princess Celestia herself has entrusted us with this task. We mustn't despair when we've still valleys before us and food in our bags," she said evenly.

It was a strange feeling, watching the actors work. The backdrop and clothing established the scene well enough, but nobody would mistake the scene before them for an actual snowy hillside. The ponies onstage weren't tricking anyone, but they weren't trying to trick anyone. Never was there any pretense that these two ponies were actually explorers from centuries ago. Pincer could already see them falling naturally into their roles, though, acting for all the world as if they were spies trying to completely throw off an enemy.

The first half of the play was forty-five minutes long. If Pincer had been forced to describe what happened to him over the course of those forty-five minutes, he could only have said that he gradually, willfully allowed himself to be fooled by the actors. He smiled as the farmers rejoiced upon finding arable land. He felt a twinge of unease when the gryphon scouts spotted them. He empathized when Green Leaf confessed to Harvest Moon that she was terribly missing her family.

After the gryphon commander had finished a thunderous speech rousing his soldiers to drive the settler ponies out of the valley, the drawing of the curtain and the shuttering of the stage lights announced the intermission. As the ponies around them began conversing among themselves or scooting into the aisles to use the restrooms, he looked at Twilight, who could barely contain her grin.

"Yeah, it was good. Very good," Pincer said. "Reading about a play's nothing like seeing one. Do you know when the intermission's over?" he asked, glancing back down at the stage.

Twilight laughed. "Sorry, but you're stuck here with me five minutes before you can see the rest."

Pincer grinned toothily. He couldn't help it. In this darkened theater, he wasn't drawing stares from every direction. The others were too busy watching the play to think about him, and he felt just as much a part of the audience as the rest of them.

"Not in a hurry," he said. "Better out here than stuck in my cell."

"Well, it's good to know you feel that way. I think it'll help you a lot, having things to do besides—"

"Silver Tongue! Where are you going?" asked the stallion seated next to Pincer, to someone to the stallion's right.

A filly, presumably the stallion's daughter, had just broken free and was dashing down the aisle towards Pincer and Twilight.
Pincer reflexively drew himself back in his seat, but he still felt the filly collide with his legs. She stumbled and fell, landing in front of Twilight. While he was still absorbing this sight, he felt a blow to his chest and was knocked back into his seat.

"Silver Tongue!" the stallion repeated. He was the one who had struck Pincer, and now he was pushing his way to his daughter. "Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?" he asked, pulling her close to him. The filly was shaky getting to her hooves, but nodded to her father's question. He turned her head so she was facing him, then ran a hoof along her mane and back as he looked up and down. When he was done, he sighed in relief.

"I told you to stay away from the changeling! Now go, out to the aisle. I'll tell you when it's safe to come back."

The stallion turned to Pincer and scowled at him. Meanwhile, the filly hastily fumbled away from the scene through the cramped, dark aisle, glancing fearfully at Pincer as she went. The patrons she edged around glanced briefly at her before fixing their eyes on the scene that was erupting.

"Now hold on a second," said Twilight warningly. "Don't you think this might've been an accident? I mean, it's pretty crowde—"

"You! You've got some nerve, tripping my daughter!" the stallion said to Pincer, ignoring Twilight entirely.

Pincer leaned forward in his seat, as though daring the stallion to strike the first blow. "I didn't mean for it to happen! It was an accident! I came here to watch a play, not hurt fillies!"

The stallion scoffed. "'Came here to watch a play'? And I suppose you came to Princess Cadance's wedding to leave a gift?" He drove a hoof into Pincer's chest, knocking him back against the seat.

"Leave him alone!" Twilight barked, her horn beginning to glow faintly. "He hasn't done anything wrong!"

Pincer bared his fangs before he could stop himself. The unicorn stallion looked between the two, and his look of bravado faltered. Slowly, the leg holding Pincer fell to the floor.

"Hey! What's going on here?" came a voice from the left. Pincer heard the clumping of rapid hoofsteps and saw a theater usher in a striped button vest pushing toward them. Pincer shut his mouth to hide his fangs, and the glow in Twilight's horn winked out. The seats around them grew silent, and Pincer was aware that many pairs of eyes were upon him and the stallion.

The stallion regained his composure. "That oversized bug hurt my daughter!" he roared, pointing unnecessarily at Pincer.

"I didn't! I was just sitting here! She was running in the aisle and she tripped over me," Pincer said, his voice wavering. "I didn't want it to happen. I just came here to watch the play. Ask Twilight." He pointed a hoof at her. "She knows me. She knows I wouldn't do that."

"Don't believe him! I saw it happen. He doesn't belong here," the stallion said.

The usher shook his head. "That's quite enough. If the two of you don't settle down now, I'll have no choice but to eject you both."

Pincer glared but said nothing. He had a dozen unpleasant things he was dying to say to the stallion, but he wasn't going to let himself miss the rest of the play now. As much as he wanted to put him in his place, he wanted to see what happened in the second half more.

"Sir," Twilight said evenly. The usher looked at her.

"This changeling — his name is Pincer," she continued. "He's here with Celestia's permisison. I've known him for a while, and he isn't here to hurt ponies. This is all just a misunderstanding."

The usher paused, then turned to the father. "I'd like to speak with your daughter about this," he said wearily.

"She's over there," the father said, pointing over the usher's shoulder. The usher turned around to see Silver Tongue, whom he'd rushed past in his hurry to defuse the situation, sitting half-turned away from them. He bent his front legs so that his head was level with hers.

"Did you trip and fall?" he asked her quietly.

"Yeah, but I'm fine. See?" She stood up and walked a quick, tight circle.

"And what made you trip?"

"Well, that bug-pony's legs were sticking out."

The usher frowned. "Can you tell me what you mean by, 'sticking out?'"

"You know, like when a pony sits down in these seats, their back legs stick out into the aisle!"

"He didn't hold out a leg to trip you, then?"

"Nope! He was sitting like everypony."

The usher thanked the filly and turned back to face Pincer, Twilight, and the father.

"It doesn't sound like Pincer meant to cause any harm," he said quietly, "so I'll ask that you not create any more disturbances, or I'll be forced to call the Royal Guard and have you escorted out."

Pincer gave a small nod, and he didn't hear the stallion say anything, but he had a feeling he was drilling holes in Pincer with his eyes. The usher left, and the stallion went back to his seat. As he sat down, Pincer heard him exchanging rapid whispers with his wife, and he assumed that they were arguing.

Periodically the stallion glanced back at his daughter, who was standing in the aisle and leaning forward, apparently waiting for some opportunity. Finally she slunk down and reluctantly crept forward, stopping at Pincer's hooves. They looked at each other uncertainly.

"Hey," the filly whispered, "how come you're not fighting like all those other bug-ponies were?"

Pincer's eyes darted to Twilight, who had her hoof to her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to stifle a giggle. He was on his own, it looked like, so he decided to give a direct and simple question a direct and simple answer.

"I don't want to fight. That's not why I'm here."

"So why are you here, then?"

"Same reason everyone else is. I want to watch the show."

The filly looked down the row, then back at Pincer. "Aren't you mad 'cause you guys lost?"

Pincer looked down at his hooves. "I was, but now I'm not so sure."

"What's that mean? Are you joining the good guys or something? Are you gonna fight that queen and the other bug-ponies?"

He shook his head. "I'd be fighting my friends and family."

He heard Twilight's giggling taper off. "But if they're doing bad things, you've still gotta stop 'em, right?" Silver Tongue asked.

Pincer looked at her seriously. "And how would you feel if you had to fight your own mom and dad?"

Silver Tongue looked at her parents. Their argument was winding down, and within a few moments the stallion was looking defeated, the mare patting his hoof in consolation. The mare then looked over at her daughter, eyeliner and blush accentuating her face.

"Silver, come here please. Your father just doesn't want you to be hurt. You'll be safe with us."

The filly said goodbye to Pincer, and it wasn't long after she returned to her seat that the intermission ended. He tried to concentrate on the play, to get back in the captivated mood he'd fallen into by the time the first half had ended, but he couldn't get comfortable in his seat. His eyes kept darting to the stallion seated to his right and his wish that the stallion would have left or at least sat somewhere else drowned out the words of the actors.

He had to relax. The stallion showed no sign of making any further outbursts. The usher had already decided that Pincer had done nothing wrong. If the stallion started trouble again, he'd likely be removed from the theater and Pincer wouldn't have to worry about him anymore.

The second half was well underway by the time he was able to take his mind off of the confrontation, but it once again captured his attention well before the final scene in which the treaty was signed. The curtain drew shut one final time. Unlike at the beginning of the play, Pincer didn't hesitate to applaud with the rest of the patrons. He stomped particularly hard at the curtain call for Evergreen Valley, the actor who played Harvest Moon.

"I think they'll be staying after the show to talk if you wanted to meet them," Twilight said to Pincer as the applause died.

He looked down at the actors, already wondering how best to introduce himself, but the stallion barking accusations at him resurfaced in his mind. Trying to meet a member of the troupe would be more likely to cause a similar incident than he was willing to chance..

"Better not," Pincer said. "Too risky. We got to eat, we got to shop, we got to watch two shows to the end without a fight breaking out. That's good enough for day one."

"Are you sure?" Twilight asked, frowning. Her eyes were wide. "You looked like you were having such a good time. You shouldn't have to leave because some ponies are still afraid of you."

"Maybe I shouldn't have to, but I probably do. This won't be the last trip. I can try some other day."

He stood up and began making his way to the exit. Twilight followed, halting briefly and taking a last glance at the actors bowing onstage as she did.

When they left the theater, they were greeted by a rush of cool evening air. The sky was bathed in orange from the setting sun and the shadows of the slender, steep-roofed buildings of Canterlot darkened the streets. The street lamps had been turned on sometime while they were in the theater, and they cast halos of pale light into the crevices of Canterlot where neither the sun nor moon could reach.

"Thanks again for coming with me, Pincer," Twilight said as they were walking back to the castle. "I know it got a bit rough at times, but I hope you still had a good day."

Pincer turned over the events of the day in his head. For the most part, the ponies didn't like or trust him despite what Celestia and Twilight said. They'd made that much clear. He still remembered the waiter's cringe when he and Twilight walked into the bistro. He still felt a twinge of anger at the stallion who'd almost gotten him removed from the theater. He wasn't sure if he could change attitudes like that in any amount of time.

Even so, his thoughts drifted back to the joy he'd lost himself in at the play, and the pony in the market who had assured him she would vouch for him. Despite his misgivings, he'd found threads of hope. Unlikely as universal acceptance was, just knowing that already some ponies out there supported him and that he'd been allowed to participate in their society to some degree made Twilight and Celestia's little field test seem just a bit less foolish.

"Better day than I'd had in a long time, actually. Truth is, Sparkle, I'm the one who should thank you."

Twilight beamed. "Oh, you mean it? So, you'd be willing to go and do this again sometime?"

She didn't have to ask twice. They were at the castle gates now. Soon he would be returning to his cell. Somehow, though, even that tiny, stone room seemed like it would be less gloomy and forlorn than before. After all, comparatively speaking, he wouldn't be there long.

Author's Note

Thanks to Voba and captainblackmane for prereading this chapter.

Schema Therapy

Twilight was true to her word. Every two or three days, Pincer would find her back at his cell, ready to take him to walk through one of the city's opulent parks, eat lunch, shop around at the market, or see a play. When he wasn't with her, or in the courtyard getting his daily exercise, he was reading. The mystery novel proved compelling enough to get him to experiment with other genres; as soon as he finished a book in one, he requested one from another, often one recommended by Twilight.

In spite of his expectations, Pincer found himself slowly but surely easing into his new situation as days, then weeks, passed by. He started noticing that he no longer tensed up whenever he heard hoofsteps coming toward his cell. He was the target of fewer aggressive looks and nervous retreats, and the ones he still did get, he wasn't noticing as much. Even the idea of speaking with Celestia again no longer felt quite as dreadful as it used to.

In many ways the situation was downright pleasant, Pincer thought to himself one morning as he broke open a history book of the Post-Banishment period. As his comfort with the ponies and their intentions grew, though, so did the nagging sense that he was becoming complacent. He was being given more freedom than he'd ever had since his capture and more opportunities to do something for The Hive, but he kept making excuses not to. He needed more time to prepare. He needed to dig further and figure out their full intentions. He needed to see if he could find some way to remove the ring suppressing his transformation ability, or to contact another changeling.

He slowly realized that he was procrastinating because, for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure what he should do. It seemed obvious now that Celestia bore him no ill will, and she was making that pointedly clear to all of her ponies. She had him at her mercy, yet she had done nothing but try to help him.

Twilight, too, had done her part by voluntarily feeding him. Food, love, the thing he'd always endlessly struggled for, was being given to him freely and willingly by one who was supposed to be the enemy of all changelings. If all changelings could have gotten the same treatment he was being given, he thought, would there even be any reason to keep fighting? To keep spying, to keep deceiving, to keep kidnapping? He couldn't think of any.

The others at The Hive would never agree with him, though. They hadn't seen what he'd seen and didn't know what he knew. What would they do if he came back to them and tried to tell them about his experience? He already knew the answer. He would be branded a traitor, accused of helping to spread enemy propaganda and cast Chrysalis' leadership in doubt. She'd probably personally execute him for it.

Really, not more than a few months ago, he would've executed him for it. He would've had a hard time figuring out how any drone could think the way he now was or want the things he now did. Could they — could he — have been so badly wrong all this time? Could he have been spending his entire life helping commit acts that were not only cruel, but unnecessary too? Even now, some part of him desperately wanted everything he'd always thought about ponies to end up being right, just so that the answer to that question would be "no." If he'd been wrong, then somehow, some way, he'd have to answer for it. It was only proper.

Pincer saw the words on the page, but his mind didn't register them. He thought about Mrs. Bookend. She'd been a friend, someone he'd genuinely connected with, and who he could count on to vouch for him. She was a pleasant, friendly pony, with a contented life and a job she took pride in, but to The Hive she would be a food item like any other. Cocooned. Immobile. Kept alive just to be drained every day. Never to talk to Twilight or to walk about Canterlot on a sunny morning or to sell her books again. Mrs. Bookend didn't deserve that after how kind she'd been to him. How many other ponies like her were left to fates they didn't deserve?

Suddenly he was reminded of the fear he felt when he'd thought he would never leave the dungeon of Canterlot.

He pushed the book aside. He hadn't even considered what the ponies would think about the fact that some of their own were being kidnapped, imprisoned, and essentially enslaved. They deserved to know, didn't they? Would they be so forgiving when they found out? Should The Hive be forgiven for what it had done? Would they seek some sort of retribution? To kill him, or even to finish off the changelings once and for all as he'd feared? Perhaps they would be willing to spare at least some. Maybe they would only punish the leadership, and show mercy to the common drones.

Doubt gnawed at his mind, though. Ponies were not nearly as bad as he'd feared, but he knew they were capable of anger, and what was happening at The Hive could very well make them angry enough to retaliate. It seemed as though he would be forced to decide whether ponies or changelings would suffer. He'd done it quite often as a spy and kidnapper for The Hive, of course, and the choice had always seemed obvious. This time, however, the only option he really wanted — "nobody" — might not be possible.

His gaze drifted towards the cell door, and he looked listlessly through the bars. Twilight would be coming by soon to take him out to lunch. He could ask her. Her answers wouldn't be as authoritative as Celestia's, he knew, but he trusted her more. Satisfied to at least have a next step in mind, he turned his attention back to his book.

Hearing hooves approaching his cell, he looked through the bars. As expected, a few seconds later, Twilight stepped into view. Rather unusually, though, there was a second unicorn guard with her.

"Pincer? Someone wanted to come with us. I hope you don't mind," she said. The first unicorn guard wordlessly charged his horn and touched it to the cell door to unlock it, and the second stopped in front of the cell and peered in.

"It's good to see you again, Pincer," said the second unicorn.

"Savior," Pincer said in recognition, nodding. "It's... it's good to see you again, too." There was a clink, and the cell door opened. As he walked out, he cleared his throat and looked at Twilight.

"It's fine if he comes," he said quietly. Twilight smiled, then gestured for the two to follow her. Pincer felt as though he should say something to Savior, since he had been the first pony ever to show him compassion, but he wasn't sure what to tell him. Silence enveloped them as they began heading out of the dungeon. Thinking it over, he decided to simply let his appreciation be known.

"Savior, I wanted to say..." Pincer let his words trail off until the pony glanced over at him.

"I wanted to say... well... thanks. I know you had plenty of reason to hate me when you first found me, but you showed me compassion and made me comfortable until my legs could get treated. You did more for me than Chrysalis' doctors ever would. I just wish I'd recognized it for what it was at the time."

Savior shook his head. "You mustn't thank me. What I did was nothing less than what Her Majesty would expect of any of her healers."

At once, Pincer was reminded of the cold, quiet sadism of Nurse Clean Bill. While it was happening, he'd been so sure that saying something to the other staff would've led to reprisal against him for daring to complain. Now that he knew Celestia better, though, he regretted the missed opportunity to get decent treatment and possibly save future patients from cruelty at her hooves.

Before Pincer could come to a decision on it, Savior smiled. "It's good to see that you're looking much healthier now, though. We were getting pretty worried until Miss Sparkle was able to feed you."

Pincer nodded. "She's been... good to me. It's strange. After the first time, I've never had to try to take emotions to feed on by force. I only have to ask her, and she says yes. She has kept me alive and well."

Twilight's head turned away, but Pincer still caught the blush in her cheeks. "Well, friends are supposed to help each other," she said, ears bending back. "How I help you is just a bit... unusual, that's all."

Savior chuckled, and Pincer couldn't help cracking a smile himself.

When they arrived at Molto Delizioso's, they found it lightly occupied. The waiter greeted Twilight and Pincer by name, then asked Savior for his. He quickly guided to an out-of-the-way booth almost as soon as they walked in.

"You picked another good book, Twilight," Pincer said after the waiter had taken their orders. "I'd read a story before about Nightmare Moon, but I'd never really thought about how badly it'd spread fear in your whole country even after Celestia got her out of the way."

"It wasn't something ponies ever expected to happen," Twilight said, shifting in her seat. "The Princesses had looked out for us for as long as we'd been recording history, and then suddenly one of them fell victim to an evil spirit and had to be banished by her own sister."

"I remember the book describing just how bad it got. There were rumors spreading that Celestia was being controlled by a spirit too, ponies running or hiding from or even attacking her Royal Guards..." Pincer said. Savior, who had been surveying the restaurant, turned to look at the two.

"There's something I don't understand, though," Pincer continued. "She'd still get ponies paying — trying to pay — tribute. Gold, gems, land, good food, art dedicated to her, all years after it happened. Why'd she never take any of it? She wasn't forcing them to give it all to her. She was getting love and recognition and wealth without doing a thing, but she didn't even seem like she wanted it. The book didn't say why."

"You honestly don't see?" asked Savior, "I'm afraid I must admit that my grasp of the history of the time is poorer than I'd like. I never took a liking to history books. Even so, knowing Celestia, it's obvious to me."

"I thought ponies from noble families were supposed to be well-read," Twilight said, hovering a fork off of the table and making it waggle at him as though to scold him. "Maybe I should give the book to you after Pincer's done with it."

Savior smiled good-naturedly. "I read plenty of medical texts to claim the title of a field doctor of Her Royal Guard. I appreciate the offer, though."

He turned to Pincer, smile fading. "Anyway, it sounds like they left those tributes for Her Majesty because they were afraid she would become envious like her sister had if they didn't show enough appreciation for her, and would punish them for it. It's quite possible that some of what they were offering was very precious to them, but they felt they had no choice except to give it to her. She wouldn't want to take things that they'd only given her because they felt they had to. I'm sure that alone would be enough for her, but she would also want to avoid making them think their fears were justified. If she had accepted the gifts, they could very well have taken it as proof that she was expecting and demanding them."

The waiter returned, sliding their plates and bowls onto the table. Twilight and Pincer exchanged looks, she staying focused on him.

"You mean she really cared that much?" Pincer asked after the waiter left, eyes flickering to his bowl of vegetable soup. "She turned down tribute because they were only giving it out of fear? And she didn't want them to be afraid?"

"That's exactly right," Twilight said, smiling approvingly. "She wants Equestria to be a place where we can live our lives in peace, with the knowledge that she will protect us. She wants to help us..." Twilight leaned forward and lowered her voice, letting a hoof rest on the table in front of Pincer. "And she wants to help you, too."

Pincer was struck by the look in Twilight's eyes; they seemed almost pleading. He looked at Savior, who nodded in turn. For a moment he simply stared down at his bowl as comfort, suspicion, and guilt wrestled in his mind. Not knowing what else to do, he picked up his spoon to begin eating. Twilight retracted her hoof, looking disappointed, and she and Savior brought their attention to their own meals.

He turned the events that they'd described over in his mind. He had never met Queen Chrysalis personally, but if life in The Hive was any indication, fear certainly proved useful for her. Celestia had actively worked to make ponies less afraid of her, though. What kept them in line, then?

His spoon dropped. "But fear is useful for a ruler. She wants loyalty from her ponies, right? Frightened ponies would be less willing to disobey her."

"I think Princess Celestia's done a pretty good job without ruling through fear, don't you?" asked Twilight.

Pincer took another bite of his soup. "I have to admit that I'm seeing a certain appeal to Equestria. But how does she keep you loyal without keeping you afraid?"

Twilight levitated her glass of carrot juice to her mouth and took a sip from it, then smiled. "Well, I'd like to ask you something in return.

"Do you remember what it was like when you first came here? How you didn't want to talk to any of us, and how you kept trying to attack us, and how you hated us? You've really gotten a lot more approachable since then, and I think you can agree that we're all happier for it. You're certainly better off than the first time I saw you. Can you tell me what made you change your attitude?"

Pincer took a breath and his head slowly drifted to the window. It was true, he realized, seeing ponies cross in front of the window. He didn't have to try to figure out why. It was obvious. It was strange to think of, though; if anyone had told him when he'd arrived that someday he'd be having a friendly lunch with Twilight and one of his guards, he would have thought it was a weak attempt at a joke.

"You were my enemies. It seemed like you were, anyway. You stood for everything I was supposed to hate. Being honest, I would've gladly... torn you apart. As time went on, though, it started seeming wrong to think that way. No beatings, no torture, no mind-breaking magic, just treating my legs and giving me ways to keep busy and talking to me like I was, well, one of you."

He took a breath. "I started going along with it because I didn't see the point in fighting someone who was trying to help me."

Twilight smiled approvingly. "And that's why we follow Celestia." Savior nodded firmly beside her.

"She doesn't need to rule through fear," Twilight continued. "We follow her because we trust her, and we know that with her guidance, we can have good lives and accomplish great things." Her smile had a look of invitation, as though she were extending an offer for help.

Pincer bent down and took a bite of his soup. The questions that had bothered him earlier had returned, and sitting directly across from him was the only pony he trusted enough to ask them to. He needed to find out if peaceful coexistence were possible, if his fellow changelings could be granted mercy, and if (Chrysalis flay him) it might be best to replace their queen. It wasn't something he could ask while Savior was in earshot, though.

The rest of the meal went by slowly; Twilight tried striking up a conversation with Pincer, but he found himself too distracted and nervous at the prospect of what he planned to ask her later to get seriously invested in what she was saying. He gave only nods or grunts in reply, and after a while, Twilight gave up and turned to Savior. He was happy to talk with her about combat spells.

He was enormously relieved when the bill finally came, but they still had to walk him all the way out of the city, to the castle, down into the dungeon, and into his cell. None of this passed any more quickly than their lunch had. The path through that led through the streets and markets of Canterlot and to the castle seemed to curve and stretch endlessly in front of them, and several times Pincer had to measure his pace so that he wouldn't pull ahead of Twilight or Savior.

Finally, after moving through the seemingly endless tunnels and corners of the dungeon, Pincer's cell came into view, and for the first time he was glad to see it. Despite what he had hoped, though, Savior and Twilight were still talking with each other even after another guard had arrived and locked him back in his cell. He sat as patiently as he could, waiting for their conversation to run its course, staring at nothing in particular and mentally preparing as well as he could for the question he was about to ask. Finally, several minutes after they arrived, he heard Savior trot away. As soon as Savior was out of sight, Pincer trotted up to the bars of his cell.

"Pincer, is there something you want to talk to me about?" she asked, looking concerned. "You've been kind of jumpy ever since lunch."

"Yes," he said quietly. "And I wanted to wait until we were alone. You're the only one I can talk to about this. Can you keep it between us?"

Twilight glanced away, eyebrows lowering. "Well, that'd depend on what it was. If you want me to cover for a changeling spy or stay quiet about a planned attack or something else that would probably end up hurting ponies, I couldn't do it. I won't tell anyone if you've just been feeling bad and want to talk about it, though."

"Actually, it's neither. I'm starting to feel differently towards Celestia. And ponies. It's something I wasn't really prepared for."

His mind raced. So much had changed, so many of his old ways of thinking had fallen into doubt. He struggled to put his conflicts and new ideas into words. Finally, he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I wanted to ask you if you think changelings and ponies could live together."

He sounded as if he were confessing some sort of heresy. In a way, he supposed, he was. If he'd sincerely asked the same question to Commander Formic, or even Scarab or Antenna, he would likely have gotten a lengthy "reeducation" in a prison cell for his trouble.

At first Twilight just blinked a few times, leaving the question hanging in the air. Then she frowned, head tilted toward the ceiling, drumming a hoof against her chin. Pincer's nerves had worn thin by the time she looked at him again.

"That would depend on a lot of things, I think, but can you tell me why you wanted to ask that?"

Pincer let out a brief hiss and looked down. Why did she have to press him? "It just occurred to me. Even though I was an enemy, even though I was one of the ones attacking Canterlot, you still helped me. And now, you're freely giving me love and I'm staying alive without hurting any of you. Could this happen with more changelings? We could find ponies who would feed us willingly and we wouldn't have to lie or steal or fight for it? Could we... have... peace?"

Twilight's eyes were wide. She raised a hoof, as if to touch him. "Pincer, is that something you truly want?" she asked softly.

After a short pause, he nodded slowly and lightly.

At first, Twilight just sat back and looked away, seeming to stare very hard at nothing in particular. When she looked at Pincer again, she was smiling.

"I've got to say, that's something I never thought I'd hear from a changeling. I don't want you to be our enemies, and I'd love to actually work on changing that. I think we could learn a lot from each other."

Twilight then frowned. "But how can we get Chrysalis and the others to feel the same way?" She asked in a lowered voice. "From what you've told me, they still hate us. I don't think they'd feel the same way you do about trying to get along with us. I'm sure Princess Celestia will be glad to make peace with you, but if changelings don't want—"

"Celestia? You're telling her about this?" Pincer said.

"Pincer," Twilight said, sighing a bit. "Look, I know you're still nervous about her, but if things are going to get any better between us, her support will probably make all the difference. How's she supposed to offer friendship to people who don't give any sign they want it?"

She was right, Pincer had to admit. Celestia's ponies had very recently been attacked by changelings, and she surely knew that they still had spies in their ranks, planning to use them as food. She couldn't be friends with someone like that unless they wanted and planned to stop. But sooner or later, it would mean confronting the reality of what changelings had been doing to her ponies, and she might not be in such a forgiving mood after learning it.

"I know, I know," he said. "But to be honest, I don't think most of the other changelings will agree. Not a chance Queen Chrysalis would. I'd have to give away some Hive secrets before Celestia could even contact them, so there's risks involved. I mean, imagine if she decided there was no chance of peace. She'd still want to keep her ponies safe, and she'd have better chances attacking The Hive, so she still might do that. Now, I admit I was wrong about you. You specifically, and ponies in general. At the end, though, our people are still enemies and it could very likely stay that way, and I don't want you or us getting hurt."

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Look, you don't have to be afraid of her. I'd hoped you'd realized that by now. She's Princess Celestia. Equestria's been in conflicts with gryphons, diamond dogs, buffalo, and even Discord without going crazy and destroying all of them. It takes time to build trust and convince someone that they don't have to fight, but she's been doing that sort of thing for thousands of years. You've attacked us, and you've spied on us, and those things made her angry, but I can't really think of anything that would make her mad enough to... to drop solar flares on you or something!"

It was time. He'd already committed to trying for peace, and for that to happen the secret would have to be known one way or another. There was no reason to hold back anymore; either the ponies would forgive changelings for what he was about to tell Twilight or they wouldn't. If they did, then changelings could finally take the first steps toward being free of Chrysalis' cruelty, free from a life of stealing and kidnapping, of hatred and pain. If they did not, then what point was there in putting faith in anything, or trying to change anything for the better? If changelings' crimes were so terrible that the pony in the best position to make things better for them wanted to kill them for what they were, then what hope was there? He would be saving them from death only to condemn them to their current life as givers and receivers of misery indefinitely.

"I can," he finally said, quietly, looking at his hooves.

Twilight rolled her eyes, but it only lasted a moment before worry colored her face. Her eyes began to widen and her mouth drew into a frown. "What do you mean? Why—" Her voice cracked. "Has something been going on at The Hive? Something you were afraid we'd find out about? Something... something terrible?"

Pincer looked Twilight directly in the eye. "Yes. It's time I told you how we've been gathering love."

Author's Note

Thanks to Voba for proofreading this chapter.

Recidivism

The room fell silent. Twilight stared at Pincer and let a hoof hover just above the ground, as though she weren't sure whether to push him to continue or wait for him to do it on his own. In the end, curiosity got the better of her.

"Pincer, I don't know what it is you're going to say, but this sounds like something we really need to know, so thanks for coming to me with it."

"You're not going to like it," Pincer said in a low voice.

"I've already figured it involves preying on ponies," Twilight said quietly. "But you don't do that anymore. You changed. And the other changelings can change, too." She smiled a bit at her accidental wordplay. "And in the meantime, you'll be helping us protect ourselves."

"No, I don't think you're getting it. It's not just taking love and leaving some ponies weak. It's worse." He swallowed. "A lot worse."

Twilight frowned, eyes going wide. She looked away for a moment before speaking again.

"Pincer? What do you mean, 'a lot worse'? Wh—what are you — they — doing?"

In a low, even tone, staring at the ground, he told her everything: about the kidnappings and the cocoons, how the ponies captured would never be able to leave, and his role as a scout picking out good targets. Twilight said nothing as he recounted this, and by the time he finished and worked up the courage to look up at her, she was looking back at him with a pale face and an open mouth. Her breathing was ragged.

"That... y—you're joking, right? I mean, they wouldn't actually need to..." She took a step and leaned forward, her face nearly touching the bars. Pincer could only look down at the floor and shake his head.

For a few seconds, the only sound was Twilight's hoof rapping against the stone floor. It was a few seconds before any more words spilled out.

"W—why... I don't... how could you..."

Suddenly, she slammed a hoof against the bars, glaring daggers at him.

"How could they do that? How could you let them?!" she yelled, as the clang echoed through the dungeon. "All this time I've been telling anyone who'd listen that you weren't bad, and you... you knew about this and you just kept letting them do it!"

"Twilight, I'm sorry!" Pincer said in a shaking voice. It was as he'd feared; everything was falling apart. "I don't like it, I want it to stop, but—"

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

Pincer looked down at his hooves. "I didn't know what you'd think. I didn't want you to hate me," he whispered. "And if Celestia found out... the others. My podmates. If she knew they were doing that..."

She stepped forward, and her horn took on a worryingly familiar glow. "So what were you doing? You talked about how I was your friend, and how you were starting to see us as people, but this whole time you've been helping them do something terrible!"

Twilight glanced away. "I'm telling Celestia," she said. "She has to know. Your people have been doing those things, and you've been keeping it from me while pretending to be my friend!"

Pincer drew his body tight, bracing himself against the ground. "Twilight, please! I'll do it! Let me tell her!"

Twilight simply gave him a hard stare, then turned around and began to walk away. Her horn's glow faded. "No, Pincer. I can't trust you to do it. I've got to make sure Celestia knows exactly what's going on."

He looked despairingly at Twilight's receding form. He wanted to say something, but no words came to him before she was out of sight. For awhile he just stood there and stared ahead into the dark hallway, as though he could will her to return he turned on the spot and bucked the iron bars of his cell. The ringing of metal echoed across the halls of the dungeon, but no one was there to hear it.

Suddenly, Pincer slumped over. With nothing left he could do, he trotted over to his cot and hoisted himself onto it. He lay on his backside, barely noticing the uncomfortable pressure it put on his wings. Perhaps his hope had been foolish after all; it seemed that the way things were, the only way a changeling could befriend a pony was through deception.

If these ponies could no longer trust Pincer, then Pincer could no longer trust them. Any second thoughts he had about Queen Chrysalis and The Hive were shoved aside by Twilight's clear demonstration that the changeling way of life was necessary if they were to continue to survive. As he'd always believed, ponies were the absolute and constant enemy of him and his kind.

He had to escape. He had to get back to The Hive.

Some number of hours later, Pincer heard the familiar sound of hoofsteps approaching his cell and pushed himself off of the bed. A few seconds later, two unicorn guards stopped in front of his cell, the one in front unlocking it.

"Her Majesty Princess Celestia has summoned you," the other said curtly. Pincer lightly nodded, then fell in line between them. As they wound through the twists and turns of the dungeon, he steeled his nerves for what was coming. He would have only one chance, and failure would very likely cost him everything.

Soon after climbing their way out of the dungeon and into the more public part of the castle, Pincer could see the towering marble arches and fluttering banners of the Entrance Hall, and his heart began to beat like a cornered beast's. It was a room he had become very familiar with, having seen it many times when going out to town with Twilight. To the right was the entrance leading to the throne room, and to the left was his way out.

The moment they stepped into the Entrance Hall, Pincer's rear legs shot out, colliding with the breastplate of the pegasus guard behind him and sending him tumbling to the floor. The guard in front of him turned around, but by then Pincer had broken into a gallop towards the main doors. He heard the guard calling out for the others to stop him. Two unicorn ponies blocked his exit, standing at the doors and pulling them shut with their magic.

Pincer turned so he was on a collision course with one of the guards, hoping to take him down and distract his partner so that Pincer could slip through the doors. The guard Pincer was aiming for noticed, though, and began charging up his horn for some sort of offensive spell. He didn't get the chance before Pincer crashed into him, slamming him into the door and knocking him over.

The second turned to face Pincer, head lowered and horn glowing, and Pincer leaped over a crackling amber beam of energy that came from the guard's horn. Pincer rushed him with fangs out, but a second beam jolted his body with a surge of electricity. He fell to the ground, muscles jerking and unresponsive, body aching and burning.

His body's pain and spasms were still flooding his senses when he felt shackles clamping down on both his front and back legs. The guard then produced a strap, which he wrapped around Pincer's body and used to tie down his wings.

"He's subdued," the guard said, facing the entrance to the throne room. All around, Pincer could hear the sound of hooves clapping on marble and carpet, and he soon found the other unicorn guard and the two pegasus guards who had been escorting him glaring down at his prone form. He tensed as well as he could. One of the pegasus guards looked at the other.

"Tell Her Majesty what has happened," he said. His subordinate nodded, then walked away. Gradually, Pincer could feel his muscles becoming responsive again, for all the good it would do. Experimentally he tried shifting and moving his limbs, but every time he did, one of the guards would push a hoof against him and order him to stay still.

"You've made a mistake," one of the unicorn guards barked. "Princess Celestia doesn't take kindly to those who abuse her goodwill. I don't think you'll be getting out of those shackles for a long time."

Pincer would have liked to retort that, after what Celestia had learned about them, he doubted there was any goodwill left to abuse. Not wanting to give his captors an excuse to strike him while he was helpless, though, he instead lay huddled quietly on the floor. Several minutes later, the guard who had left returned.

"He's to be taken to the throne room." The other guards nodded and looked down at Pincer.

"All right, on your hooves," said one of the unicorn guards. After briefly hesitating, he braced his legs against the ground and lifted with some effort. Still twitching and hurting, he pulled himself to a standing position one leg at a time. The unicorn guards nodded to the pegasus guards and returned to their posts by the door.

"In line," the higher-ranking pegasus guard said to Pincer, eyes fixed on him. He shuffled his way between the two guards as he had before, the manacle chains pulling taut with each short step.

"Move." He started walking, occasionally being prodded by the guard behind him when he was unable to keep pace with them. They passed through the doors to the throne room and the guards moved to either side of him, bowing to Princess Celestia in unison.

"Well done. You are dismissed," Celestia said simply, giving them a small smile. The two guards bowed again and trotted out. Once they were gone, Celestia looked briefly at Pincer, smile vanishing.

"Sergeant Strike, Sergeant Watcher, remain outside while I talk with the prisoner. Close the doors behind you." The two unicorn guards likewise bowed and left. Seconds later, the door closed behind them like a trap snapping shut. Suddenly, the room felt even larger and more imposing than it had before, and Pincer's gut twisted with a dread certainty that he wasn't going to be leaving alive.

"Why did you attack my guards, Pincer?" Celestia asked, an edge to her voice. She looked down at him as though he were a larva caught stealing a perch. He knew very well why he had made the escape attempt, but couldn't quite find the words to convey his many reasons. A deathly silence hung over the room a he stared at her.

"Be thankful you only gave Private Ironlink a minor injury. I'm willing to forgive what you've done, but I can't be sure my guards will be so charitable. Perhaps you thought this was a proper response to my student becoming upset with you?" she finally said.

"It wasn't just that!" Pincer said louder than intended, his voice echoing through the chamber. Celestia's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Pincer's heartbeat quickened at his own boldness, and he had the nagging feeling that he'd overstepped. He couldn't stop now, though. Not without telling her. She could punish him after he'd had his say.

"I told her. She was my only friend. The only one I could trust. It was a huge risk. It didn't matter to her. She hates me. She hates us all. That's what'll happen if ponies know. There won't be any mercy. That's why I had to get out. So you couldn't kill us. I was right all along."

He slumped, chains clanking. "But you got me. It's over now."

In the silence that followed, he dully looked up to find Celestia scrutinizing him. Her expression was unreadable, and he found it impossible to imagine what her response might be.

"Pincer," she finally said. Her tone was even. "I need you to listen very carefully to what I'm about to say."

His muscles tensed, but he remained still.

"I understand that Twilight was upset by what you told her, and I certainly don't blame her. But you must understand that she was beginning to consider you a friend, too. She was starting to like and trust you, and you suddenly told her that you'd been hiding something terrible from her. Something that could very well bring harm to her friends and family.

"I don't say this to condemn you, though. I just want you to understand how this looks from her point of view. I recognize that you took a massive risk both to your own safety and that of your Hive to uncover, at least to one pony, an evil that you were no longer willing to stay silent about. That you showed such courage and selflessness has not made me want more to exterminate your kind. Quite the opposite, in fact."

Pincer looked up, eyes wide.

"I hope I'm not being presumptuous when I say that in most ways you seem to be much like any other changeling drone," Celestia continued. "In that case, surely you're not the only one to have the potential to do good. In better circumstances, I think, we could find a way to coexist."

As Pincer let out a breath, Celestia frowned.

"Now I'm afraid I must tell you the difficult news. I can't stay idle while my ponies are being kidnapped and forced into slavery. The only way to free them is to break into The Hive and get them out. You have my assurance that I will do everything in my power to keep casualties at a minimum on both sides.

"You can help with that, but you'll have to do something that I know will be very hard for you. I need you to tell me everything you know about The Hive — its location, its layout, its defenses, and anything else what will be important to know."

Pincer blinked. "You want me to help you fight my own people? You're asking... I mean, it's one thing to warn you, but..."

"Would you rather have aiding torture and slavery on your conscience?" Celestia asked coolly. "I will find The Hive and I will rescue my ponies, Pincer, even without your help. All you'll be accomplishing with your silence is letting their suffering continue longer than it has to. And, of course, leading to a battle that will likely kill many more of your fellow drones than it would otherwise."

"You'll kill them to punish me?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Absolutely not. As I said before, I want to do this with as few dead as possible. But without the intelligence you can give me, we'll have to search the entire Hive for the prisoners rather than just rescue them straightaway. The more of it we have to fight for control of, the more changelings, and ponies, will die.

"There is also the matter of how my royal guards will behave during an emotionally charged operation. I don't condone conduct inappropriate to war among them, and if I find that any of them have committed violence against those who can't or won't fight, they will face my judgment. They know this, but even so, I cannot guarantee that I can completely prevent such behavior if it happens in the heat of battle. Their anger over what is being done to their fellow ponies will be difficult enough to keep in check. I think they will be a lot more manageable, though, if they don't get dragged into an extended battle that would surely result in more dead and wounded among them.

"Of course, I'll be sure to tell them where any information you provide came from. I'm certain that knowing a changeling has willingly aided them will improve their perceptions of your people. So what do you say? Will you help us?"

He had no way to tell if she was bluffing. For all he knew, she would never find The Hive without his cooperation. Even assuming she was telling the truth, there was a glaring flaw in her reasoning.

"We still need to feed," he said, shaking his head. "We'll starve without those ponies. The sooner you find The Hive, the sooner that happens."

"You've been able to eat enough to stay healthy here without cocooning ponies."

"I'm just one drone," he said, raising a hoof for emphasis as much as the shackles would allow. "And I almost didn't make it anyway. I got lucky with Twilight. There are thousands of us. What could we do? There's no way ponies would come in and suddenly feel love whenever we needed them to."

"Surely you're not going to tell me it would be harder than kidnapping every single pony you needed against their will?"

"But that's all we know how to do." Pincer shook his head. "Look, maybe this was a mistake. I don't think you can save them."

Celestia slowly got onto her hooves and began walking down the steps of her throne. "And what do you have to lose by trying? I've already made it clear that I can't continue to allow you to prey on citizens of Equestria. I'm offering to help you learn a new way to gather love. Did you have some other option in mind?" She stopped, now a few feet in front of him.

Pincer looked down, but he could still feel the pressure of her gaze. "How can I be sure you'll find The Hive? For all I know, you could be bluffing."

"I suppose you can't," she said curtly. "Perhaps you should ask yourself, though, what will happen if you're proven wrong."

There was a thick silence as Pincer eyed Celestia. Nothing about her posture or movements indicated dishonesty, but he couldn't hope to read a millennia-old alicorn well enough to be certain.

"I know what Queen Chrysalis has told you. Now I've had my say. There is something you know better than I do, and I must ask. Which of us has given you more reason to trust her?"

Pincer bared his fangs for a fraction of a second, but something in Celestia's tone made him stop. He knew very well the sound of a question that implicitly had a right answer and a wrong answer, and that was the sort of question he was expecting. This wasn't that kind of question. It was more like the kind he'd expect Scarab or Antenna to ask him, an honest invitation to share his own views.

He bent his wings tightly against his sides, even more tightly than the strap required. "Well, Queen Chrysalis is my leader. She's the leader of all changelings. Whatever else she might've done, we're still alive. She's been our queen for eight hundred years, and if she wanted to get rid of us, she could have. I still can't be sure I could say the same for you.

"At the same time, though, I'm sure you've guessed that not everything she's told us was true. Ever since you've captured me, you've treated me far better than any changeling commander said you would. I have, or rather, had, a pony who cared about me and was willing to feed me, even knowing I was a changeling. It wasn't until I told her about what was happening at The Hive that she stopped.

"Even so, I know that you want to protect your ponies. I can't blame you, but at the same time I know you could do some things you might not want to if it means keeping them safe. Though I never thought I'd say this, I don't think you plan to kill me. The problem is, I still can't say the same for my Hive."

He tapped his hoof against the floor. "That's as well as I can answer."

Celestia nodded, but she was frowning down at Pincer. After scrutinizing him for a few moments, she drew in a breath and then let out a long, deep sigh.

"If that's truly how you feel, then I'm afraid that there's nothing else to discuss," she said. "I'll fetch the guards so they can return you to your cell. I will do what I can to convince Twilight to give you another chance or, failing that, find another pony who will be willing to feed you.

"In the meantime, I'll direct the Royal Guard's efforts to searching out the location of The Hive and apprehending any other changelings who might be in Equestria. Perhaps they'll be willing to answer our questions, and if not, at least we'll know they can't help kidnap any more ponies while they're in here."

Pincer's heart sank at those words, but he found himself wondering why. He'd done his job. It sounded like they'd given up on him, which meant that he wouldn't have to worry about resisting any more attempts at interrogation. He had done what he'd needed to do to keep The Hive safe, and now the burden was no longer his.

But what had he really accomplished? He no longer had the faith in his Queen and his home that gave him strength to begin with. His sole source of comfort was gone. Celestia had made it plain that she wasn't about to give up the search for The Hive. In the meantime, fellow changelings would almost certainly be captured. How would they be fed? It was a lucky fluke that the ponies were able to feed Pincer enough for him to survive, and even that was no longer an option.

Suddenly Celestia's horn glowed, and so did the doors behind Pincer.

"Wait!" he shouted. The charge in her horn fizzled out and she looked at him, eyes wide.

"You don't have to do that," he said. "I'll tell you."

"You'll answer my questions, then?" she asked. Pincer slowly nodded.

Celestia nodded. "I assure you that whatever help you can provide will not be misused."

She then frowned, and her eyes grew stern. "You mustn't feed us false intelligence, though. Remember, the Royal Guard will easily guess where their information is coming from, and they will know if you lead them into a trap. You wouldn't be doing anything good for yourself or your fellow changelings."

"Understood." Pincer had already considered and rejected the idea. He knew that as soon as they found The Hive, they would stop at nothing until they could rescue their ponies. Misleading them would only delay the inevitable and risk reprisal.

"Very well." She walked past him, towards the door, and turned her head to face him. "If you'll follow me, we can go somewhere more comfortable to talk about it."

It was a bright but cozy interior room, uncluttered by adornments and dominated by a long oak table in the center ringed with plush cushions. Pincer guessed that it was some sort of meeting room for military personnel or bureaucrats. He and Celestia sat facing each other, ready for a conversation that could change everything.

"Now," Celestia began, "I'm sure you've guessed what I'm going to ask you first. Pincer, before anything else, I need you to tell me where The Hive is located."

He thought about how to describe its location in detail and realized how painful every word of it would be. He was about to cross a point of no return, he realized, and he suddenly began to feel very hot. "Okay. Do you have a map I can point it out on?"

"As a matter of fact, there are plenty in this room," Celestia said. She turned her head to the left and her horn glowed, and a long, tightly-wound piece of canvas drifted off of one of the shelves. It floated down to the table between them and uncurled, showing a map of the continent on which Equestria lay. Thick black lines marked the many lakes, rivers, forests, hills, and other terrain features of the land.

After he silently cursed his luck that Celestia hadn't needed to leave the room to get a map, Pincer's eyes flicked to the expanse of badlands in Equestria's southeast corner. His hoof felt as though it were made of lead as he lifted it off of the cushion. He reached out in front of him and, for a moment, just let it hang over the map. Celestia silently urged him on with a look, and the only sound he could hear was his own raspy breathing.

His hoof dropped to the table with a bang, right on the badlands where The Hive was buried. It rested there for a moment before Celestia gave it a magical nudge, and he withdrew it with bated breath.

"I see," she said. "Well, you've certainly saved us some time just with that. That region wasn't scheduled to be searched for weeks. Now, can you be more specific? Roughly which part of the badlands is it in? Are there any particular landmarks that would be useful? And what in particular should we look for once we're in the general area?"

Here, Pincer realized, was truly his last chance to sabotage their planned attack.

"Celestia," he said in a tone that made it clear that he wasn't speaking up to answer her question. "Let's say, hypothetically, that you were able to carry out your operation. What would you do to us then? I'm sure you've realized that it wouldn't change our social order. We would still need love, after all, and most of us would keep trying to get it the way we know how."

Princess Celestia's eyes widened for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and leaned in towards Pincer. "Yes. You're right. I know that a society's ways do not change so easily. Rest assured, I would not try to dismantle your existing social structure if I didn't have a plan to install another in its place."

"What will The Hive be like after you've changed it? And how are we going to get enough love for all of us?" Pincer asked.

Realizing the implications of his words, he tensed. "There are thousands of us. You might not hate us, but most ponies will, especially after they find out what we've done. And they'd find out even if you didn't tell them, when ponies they knew came back and telling them where they'd been gone for so long. From how you had Cadance handle things, I'm guessing you're not planning on forcing anyone to love us. What are you going to do? I need to know this before I tell you anything else."

Celestia placed a hoof on the table. "Well, Pincer, that's a question you will have to help answer. I've been thinking about how to do that, yes, but none of us know much about your people right now. If you can answer some questions about your feeding needs, I'll change my plans as necessary."

Pincer swallowed a humorless laugh. He'd changed the subject because he wasn't ready to tell her everything until he knew her plans, but she apparently needed more information to finish formulating those plans.

"What are you looking for?" he asked.

"Tell me, how much love do you need to survive? How many changelings could one pony likely feed without endangering her health? Could you sustain yourself on the love of pets, such as cats or dogs?"

Pincer shuffled. "Yes, we can feed from the love of pets to a degree. It wears them out a lot more quickly than it would a pony or a gryphon for example, though. If I had to guess, I'd say a pony could feed one of us without getting bedridden, while it'd probably take three or four cats.

"Most of us that serve in Equestria don't lean too heavily on one pony to feed us. It won't kill them, but it tends to be a bit off a tip-off if their legs give out every time they're around us too long. Not to mention finding one can be hard. Usually there's few enough of us in a town or city that we can get some good friends to feed off of."

"'Friends'? I'm afraid that doesn't sound much like friendship to me," Celestia said flatly.

"Well, if they weren't friends, they were the closest thing to friends a changeling could get from a pony."

Celestia tapped the floor. "That's one of the things we're here to change. Now, can you tell me roughly how many changelings are in The Hive?"

The word came out of Pincer's mouth before he realized it. "Why?"

He continued before Celestia finished rolling her eyes. "Sorry. The question was rather sudden, that's all," he said.

Celestia waved her hoof. "Of course. I wanted to know how many of you there were so I could get some idea of how difficult it would be to ensure that you can all get enough love. I imagine there can't be terribly many of you if you can kidnap ponies for it without being detected."

Pincer never would have imagined that ponies knowing their low numbers would be an advantage, but he was sure they'd appreciate knowing they wouldn't have to be bled dry. "At the last count I'm aware of, there were eight thousand, one hundred ninety-two of us. That can't have changed much while I was gone."

"That's great news!" Celestia said. "With millions of ponies in Equestria, if even a small portion of them trust you enough to form friendships, I think every changeling that is willing to live in peace can have a place here."

Pincer smiled. He could feel hope beginning to bubble within him again, as it had when he'd first befriended Twilight.

"Of course, before that can happen, we need to rescue the prisoners," Celestia said, her voice suddenly serious. "And we need your knowledge to do that. Pincer, are you ready to help us?"

For a few moments, Pincer simply stared down at his hooves, conflicting thoughts flooding his mind. He imagined columns of royal guards storming The Hive and cutting down his podmates, but then he imagined his podmates being able to live as though they were on espionage duty all the time, without having to report back or worry about being caught. He thought of a new queen, a more even-hoofed queen, one who would not want or need to be as harsh as Chrysalis was. He thought of what Chrysalis would say if she knew what he was doing. He envisioned Celestia going back on her word and erasing changelings from the Earth, but wondered how she could possibly be pulling off a deception more convincingly (to him, at least) than even Chrysalis could ever hope.

"Okay. Tell me what you need to know."

Displacement

It didn't take long for Celestia to summon Lieutenant Saber to the meeting room. As he came in, he glanced at Pincer, face unreadable. He moved to take a seat directly across from Pincer, but Celestia motioned him to one to the left. She herself sat opposite Pincer, whose hooves had been freed from their restraints.

"Lieutenant, you may begin," Celestia said.

Lieutenant Saber nodded. "Her Majesty has already given me your location and numbers. Now, how many ponies are being held in The Hive?"

Pincer looked at Saber and drew himself rigid. "About two hundred."

"And how are they guarded?"

"Each pony sustains a few pods, and one pod among those is responsible for keeping its own pony secure," Pincer said. "I suppose I should mention that a pod is composed of eight changelings plus a pod leader."

Saber leaned forward, laying a foreleg on the table. "Tell me more about the pods. Are they family groups? Work teams?"

Pincer nodded. "Yes, they're work teams. We get assigned to one depending on our skills once we're old enough, and we train and share living quarters with our podmates."

Saber tapped his hoof against the table. "What kinds of tasks do these pods specialize in? Are noncombatants expected to keep their own cocoons secure?"

"There are no noncombatants. We all fight."

"Your entire society is militarized, then."

Pincer shrugged. "I suppose. I never thought of it that way, though. It's just how we are."

Celestia let out a "hm," her eyes never leaving Pincer.

"But you do specialize," Saber prodded. "What jobs do the different pods do?"

Pincer explained how the pods were grouped into clusters, each of which was oriented towards a broader skill range than the individual pods. He ran through all of the different areas he could recall — scouting, hoof-to-hoof fighting, long-term passive espionage, impersonation of a specific target, capture of food sources, internal security, Hive construction and maintenance, child rearing, and medicine among them. When he described how unproductive workers and unfit soldiers were assigned to Cluster Thirty-two for the most dangerous work, Saber's eyes widened, and Celestia's narrowed.

"Her cruelty even to her own subjects goes farther than I'd thought," Celestia said. "Saber, please continue."

Saber nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty. Now, Pincer, I want you to give me the layout of The Hive in as much detail as possible. I'll fetch you a quill and some paper."

This proved more difficult to answer than the other questions. As he took the quill between his teeth, Pincer found himself wishing that he could transform; gryphon claws could have comfortably gripped it. But having no other option, he started inking out a map.

There were many parts of The Hive that Pincer had never been to, and he had no way to know their layout. While he could reasonably trust his memory for the parts of The Hive he regularly went to, such as his living quarters, his cluster's training area, and the path to The Hive's entrance, there were also places he'd been to only infrequently, such as the medical chambers or Commander Formic's lair. Even among the areas he remembered perfectly, there was the difficulty of mapping a three-dimensional environment onto a flat surface. The Hive was not organized neatly into level stories like an Equestrian building; rather, chambers could be dug out at any depth, with connecting tunnels sloping as necessary.

Finally he let the quill fall onto the table and nudged the sheaf of papers toward Saber. Saber spread them out in front of himself and Celestia, and the two began a whispered conversation. Occasionally, one or the other would tap a hoof on some part of the map. Pincer turned away from them to let them work uninterrupted, counting the scrolls piled on one of the shelves in an attempt to pass the time.

"Alright, Pincer," Celestia finally said. "Thank you for cooperating. We'll be keeping your sketches for future reference. Lieutenant, do you have any more questions for him?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Saber leaned forward, gathering the scattered papers into a pile. "I want to know about the movements of changeling infiltrators in Equestria. How many are there?"

Pincer straightened himself. "What do you plan to do with them?" he asked flatly.

"They'll receive the same treatment you have, of course," Celestia said. "Are there so many of them that we can't keep them in the dungeons here?"

"There are," Pincer said. "But not more than I could point you to. There are usually a few hundred of us in Equestria at a time, but I couldn't tell you how to find us all. They don't tell me more than I need to know."

"How much would you be able to tell us, then?" asked Saber.

Pincer's eyes flickered towards the door.

"How do changelings work their way into a community? How do they get back out?" Saber asked a bit more loudly.

Pincer locked eyes with him. "We... we're trained to survive in the wilderness. We sneak in through there until we reach a road, then travel normally to the town we've been assigned.

"We usually go to a city. There, we just blend in, find a place to live and a job like a pony would. In a city, there are so many ponies coming and going that no one notices a few new faces. It means it can take longer to notice ponies that have... gone missing, too.

"Then there's small communities, like the farming towns or frontier settlements. It's more noticeable when a pony goes missing from there, but it's usually not as far to take them to The Hive."

"And how do you get them back to The Hive?" Saber asked. He took a quill in his mouth and began scribbling notes on the back of one of Pincer's maps.

"Well, we wait until we're alone with a good target, and then we immobilize them." Memories of himself gagging thrashing, wide-eyed ponies and tying them up or sinking his teeth into one of their legs flashed in his mind, and he suppressed a cringe. "Then we load them into a heavy bag or a cart and sneak them into a recovery point out in the wilderness. From there, other drones take them to The Hive."

Saber spat the quill out. "Where are these recovery points?"

"I can't give you any specific ones," Pincer said. "We never use the same place twice. They're always in places that are hard or impossible to see from the air, though. Usually forests or caves... or ravines."

Saber scrawled down a final note. "Alright. No further questions."

"Very well," Celestia said. "Pincer, is there anything else you'd like to say before we conclude?"

Pincer scuffed a hoof against the table. "Celestia, would it be alright if I spoke to Saber alone?"

Saber looked at Pincer, eyebrows faintly knitted.

"Lieutenant, would you find that acceptable?" Celestia asked.

After briefly scrutinizing Pincer, Saber nodded. "I can't see the harm in it. He won't get very far if he tries anything," he said, giving Pincer a glance.

"If you're sure, then," Celestia said, rising from her seat. "I'll be just outside if anything goes wrong." With that, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Saber looked across the table at Pincer. "So, what is it?"

"It's..." Pincer tried to whip his thoughts into order. "I wanted to ask you to... well, I know you don't have complete authority as a lieutenant. But you're with the Royal Guard, and I think you'll listen to me, so I think I can tell you—"

"What is it you want?" Saber asked flatly.

Pincer cringed. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to waste your time. It's about the other changelings."

Saber looked at Pincer, expression neutral. Pincer continued, "I know what we've been doing to you is terrible. I know you're doing the right thing, going in and saving those prisoners. And I know drones will probably die.

"Do what you have to, but you should remember, I used to be just like them. Some of them were my friends, and they helped me when I was struggling with my training and my commander threatened to beat me, or when I was worried that I might be sent to Cluster Thirty-Two, or when I just needed someone to talk to. If we can only make them see you as people and show them that they don't have to fight you, they'll come around like I did."

Pincer took a breath, then locked eyes with Saber. "You — Equestria — gave me a second chance. If I deserve one, don't the others?"

For a moment, Saber was silent. Slowly, he raised his front legs onto the table and began to lightly tap his hooves together.

"If I've learned anything about the Royal Guard during my service, it's that we're anything but a band of thugs. Our mission will be to rescue the prisoners. We'll only do as much fighting as we need to, and if anyone under my command goes out for revenge, I'll deal with them myself. You have my word on that."

Pincer was no longer looking at Saber. His head had slowly dropped until he found himself staring into his front legs, which were drawn close to his chest. His thoughts had turned to Scarab and Antenna, and what they would have said if they'd been in the room.

The image was swept away when Saber said, "Did you have anything else you wanted to ask about?"

Pincer looked up and shook his head. "No, nothing. Thanks, Lieutenant."

"Certainly." Saber slid off of his seat and started for the door. Pincer opened his mouth and raised a hoof, but his words lodged in his throat. It seemed as though saying them aloud would be treason, but how could it be any more treasonous than what he'd already done?

"Hey."

Pincer forced the word out just as Saber raised a leg to push open the door. He let his hoof fall to the ground and gave Pincer an expectant look.

"Good luck," Pincer said quietly.

A smile flickered on Saber's face before his usual firm gaze returned. "Thank you."

After Saber and Pincer left the room, Celestia summoned a pair of unicorn guards to shackle him once again and lead him back to his cell. In the corridor leading to the dungeon, they passed Twilight.

"I told her," he said to her, chains clanking as he came to a stop. The guards did likewise, but he could feel their stares. "I told her everything. Everything about The Hive. She'll be sending soldiers. It was all I could do."

"Oh..." Twilight's eyes wandered everywhere except Pincer. "Did you. Well, I'll, uh, see what happens then. But I was actually getting ready to head back to Ponyville for a while." She began to slowly step back. "I have some work I need to do in the library. I've been in Canterlot so long, I've fallen a bit behind on it." By the time she finished her sentence, she was briskly trotting away.

Pincer didn't have to use his training to know she was lying. He felt no love from her.

Pincer was not privy to the details of Celestia's plan, but she regretfully told him that she would have to confine him to the castle grounds to ensure its success. If he accidentally said something about what she now knew, it could possibly make it back to The Hive. He understood the precaution but hoped that things would return to normal soon.

The thought had barely crossed his mind when he realized that "normal" had gone, and it wasn't coming back. He'd crossed a point of no return when he told Celestia and Saber all of the secrets he'd sworn to protect since he was a larva. Part of him burned in shame about it. After all, even if things turned out as he hoped and Celestia was true to her word, he had an obligation that he'd failed to keep. His conscience gnawed at him, telling him that he deserved death and that, if Chrysalis knew, she would have put him to death.

But Celestia wouldn't, and in many ways, he felt more like a subject of hers now than he did a subject of Chrysalis'. Even knowing everything he'd done, Celestia didn't seem to think that he deserved to have horrible things happen to him. In fact, with Twilight absent, she was the one who now allowed him to feed off of her positive feelings toward him so that he could live. He lived in her castle and he was working for her. Chrysalis had always loomed in the background for him, a distant, threatening figure whose imagined judgments had clouded his every decision. There wasn't as much room for her now, though. Celestia's judgments were pushing their way to the forefront, and they were easier to bear.

Despite the comfort of this, with Twilight gone and himself forbidden to leave the castle grounds, life fell into a depressing and familiar pattern. He would wake up each day and read books or pace the length of his cell, breaking only for food or sleep. While he could ask permission to leave the cell at any time, and would usually be granted it, there was little reason for him to do so. He was required to have four guards watching him at all times, making casual conversation with anyone all but impossible. More pressingly, there was nobody to have casual conversations with; he didn't know any of the ponies residing in the castle aside from a few of the guards, who had treated him coolly even before his escape attempt, and Princess Celestia, who was unable to take much time to see him.

The sole reason for Pincer to leave his cell, aside from the occasional exercise session for which they now bound his wings, was his limited access to the castle library. He was free to browse titles at his leisure and, if given approval, check them out. He used the opportunity to read further about theater. He'd already read much on the subject during his confinement, but the library had still more to offer. When he got tired of reading about Equestrian theater, he moved on to plays and performers of the gryphon kingdom, and when he got tired of reading about those, he read about theater among the zebra tribes. He found the latter especially interesting, because zebra performances tended to rely heavily on improvisation and interaction with the audience, both of which he required as a spy.

He wondered if things could improve to the point that he could be one of the performers on stage. He'd certainly had enough practice pretending to be something he wasn't, and as a changeling, he'd be able to mimic the appearance needed for just about any role he could imagine. If he were successful, he could even have thousands of fans, all showering him with their affection. He could feed as much as he wanted, and he'd have to take so little from any individual pony that they'd barely notice.

The fantasy gave a modicum of comfort as the days trickled by, but not enough to stop familiar and troubling thoughts from gnawing at him. Every day and every hour, fear over whether Celestia would keep her word and be merciful in victory gnawed at him. He had helped to set her plan in motion, and now he could do nothing to stop it. Over the course of days, his tension came to a boil, his mind spinning ever more vivid images of Celestia calling on the sun to burn The Hive to cinders. Within a week, any mention of the sun or the Royal Guard or Celestia in one of the books was enough to make him avert his eyes and flip the page with a trembling hoof.

After six weeks of this, he was shaken out of a fitful sleep one night by a hoof banging against the bars of his cell. He rolled off of his bed and stood facing his cell door. Vigilant Watcher was there, accompanied by a unicorn guard, who unlocked the door.

"We're taking you to solitary," Watcher said simply.

Cold dread crept down Pincer's back. "What? Why? And why now?" he asked. Had something he'd told them been inaccurate?

"For your safety," Watcher said. "The attack on The Hive started a few hours ago. We're expecting to bring in prisoners soon, and some of them will probably guess we had a bit of help from you."

Pincer pushed himself off of the bed, slowly falling into line between Watcher and the guard, too tired and too worried about the implications of her words to argue further.

"Equestria has found us! The enemy is in The Hive! Everyone into position!"

Antenna's eyes snapped open at Scarab's words. She leaped out of her crevice, a flurry of buzzing wings filling the air as seven other drones scrambled to join her. As soon as they touched ground, they galloped as one toward the exit leading out of the living quarters. Many of them looked among themselves as they went, as though unsure that an attack on their home was really happening.

Beyond their living quarters was a large network of curving, flowing corridors that spread and twisted and split like the roots of a plant. Antenna knew them like the bottom of her hoof, as did the rest of her pod and the nearby pods who were also filtering through. None of them would be very far from their quarters, but she still felt a twinge of fear whenever the passage split and she had to separate from one of the others. Would she ever see them again?

Antenna was alone by the time she reached a long, bending passage with space to fly. Her wings vibrated and she leaped into the air, looking along the tops of the walls and quickly finding a crevice, just tall enough to stand in and dug at an angle so that its occupant could see any intruders as they came. She flew into it and crouched, and a few seconds later was joined by Scarab.

It was here that they would make their stand. Other pods, pods that were specialized in combat, would be responsible for driving out the invaders and protecting the cluster commanders and Queen Chrysalis. Their job was to guard their own cocoon.

As the other drones got into their positions in crevices and around corners at dozens of ambush points across the web of tunnels, the distant echo of their thundering hooves tapered off. A deathly silence followed.

"When did you find out?" Antenna whispered. "We should've had more warning than this. What's going on?"

"Never heard from our sentries," Scarab said in a low voice. "No one even knew they were here 'til they'd already gotten inside."

"Well, how many of them are there? No way the night patrol's stupid enough to miss an army coming."

"Enough that it looks like they're moving to finish us off. I don't know how they could've found all of the scouts and stopped them from sounding the alarm." Scarab shifted his legs. "Unless..."

"He wouldn't."

Scarab took a breath. "I don't like to think it, either. I trained him and I taught him since he was old enough to join a pod. There's no other way Equestria could've found us so quickly and coordinated an attack like this, though. They had help, and he's the only one who was never accounted for."

"But why would he?" Antenna asked. "He was right there with the rest of us at the wedding, and he fought as hard as any of us. What could they do to him that would make him sell us out?"

Scarab shook his head. "I wish I knew, Antenna. We might never know. Maybe if we make it through this, you'll get a chance to ask him yourself someday."

Antenna scanned the hall below, trying to push the thought of Pincer out of her head.

"I always wondered, why did you never want to be transferred to Cluster Seven with your flight scores?" Scarab suddenly whispered.

"Shouldn't we be quiet, Pod Leader?" Antenna asked. "If any come by, they might hear us." Her wings twitched. "That, and I can't really say I'm in a talking mood."

"We'll hear them before they hear us," Scarab said. "It's very likely they'll pass another ambush point first, and even if they don't, their armor will give them away. You know how sound carries in here."

Antenna looked away from Scarab. "Alright, fine. You said something about Cluster Seven?"

Scarab nodded. "All those pod leaders in that cluster asking me to trade you for one of theirs. I always wondered why you didn't want it."

Antenna's wings twitched again. "It was tempting, I've gotta admit. I never really talked about it, but I actually like flying more than I do sneaking. The chance to prove myself where I'm best, maybe become a pod leader, it sounded nice.

"But I always thought about you guys. 'Course you already know this, but you've got something going on you'd have a hard time finding anywhere else in The Hive. I mean, letting me choose whether or not I'd be traded out proves that.

"And I think it's kind of rubbed off on the rest of us. We know how things are here and we know we can trust each other, and most importantly, we know that we're all weak sometimes in some ways and yelling and threatening us doesn't do a thing to fix it."

Scarab nodded. "I just wish our Queen could see that. Do you remember how nervous Odanata was, when she was assigned to the pod to replace Pincer? It's hard to fight for something you're terrified of. You start looking for a way out. The first time she came to talk to me willingly, I knew she was ready to give everything."

Before Antenna could reply, the sounds of shouting and clattering armor came faintly from somewhere ahead. Antenna planted her hooves firmly on the ground, front legs bent low. Her wings stiffened.

"Antenna, you've made me proud," Scarab said, similarly readying himself. "You all have."

Within seconds, the sounds of fighting tapered off, and the uneven banging of the armor was replaced by a steady clanking that was unmistakably growing louder. The already heavy pounding of Antenna's heart seemed to grow more intense in turn. She stared unblinkingly at the entrance to the hallway, trying to visualize the ponies coming in and determine the best time to leap.

Antenna heard the rapping of hooves on stone getting louder and closer. A moment later, a pair of white-coated pegasi clad in shining golden armor emerged from around the corner and steadily walked down the hallway. Their ears swiveled forward, and their eyes swept the corridor ahead. They were followed from a few body lengths behind by two armored, slate-gray unicorn stallions marching in lock step.

"On my word," Scarab breathed, "we'll hit the unicorns." He was wound like a tight spring, legs bent as far as they would go and posture locked in place, as though he were a snake ready to bite. Antenna watched the guards unblinkingly, calculating as precisely as she could the needed angle of descent.

For what seemed like an eternity, the pegasi and unicorns took slow, careful steps down the length of the corridor. They glanced upward several times, and each time, Antenna's heart felt as though it would stop, but they went unnoticed. The pegasi had just disappeared underneath the crevice and the unicorns were a few paces away from doing the same when Scarab whispered, "now!"

Like a bowstring being released, Antenna's legs shot out, catapulting her off of the ledge. She pointed herself at the ground and pumped her wings so hard her back hurt, coming down on the unicorn to her right at a nearly vertical dive. Scarab was with her, having made his own jump in near unison.

"Above!" cried one of the unicorns. Their horns began to glow golden and they started to step back, but Antenna and Scarab came crashing down on them. The guard Antenna had struck was reeling, trying to plant its hooves and stay standing. She seized its neck and angled her wings to jerk left. The pony fell to the ground, helmet knocked askew. Landing on top of it, she raised her hoof and brought it down on its exposed cheek as hard as she could. There was a cry, and droplets of blood and spit splashed onto her leg.

Leaving the unicorn to cradle its head in its front hooves, and seeing that Scarab's target was also lying on the ground, Antenna turned just in time to see the pegasi closing in on them. She vibrated her wings and tried to lift off, but she'd barely left the ground before one of the pegasi slammed into her headfirst. She stumbled back as she landed, her hooves scrabbling for a firm grip. As fast as a cracking whip, the stallion turned around and shot out its rear legs. She leapt back, its hooves coming close enough to her head that she felt the wind from their movement.

In the time it took the stallion to drop its legs and face Antenna, she had regained her balance. Next to them, Scarab was bleeding profusely from his mouth, but he was forcing the other guard back with quick, precise blows from both pairs of hooves. Antenna's wings buzzed, and this time she was unable to lift off into the air uninterrupted. The pegasus unfurled and flapped its own wings, rising to meet her.

Antenna couldn't help grinning. An aerial battle would be dangerous in such a narrow, confined space, but that would put the pegasus at a disadvantage, too. Victory would go to the better flyer, and she'd be damned if she was going to be outflown by prey.

Antenna did a quick rise and dove at the pegasus, but it was ready. It flew up and away from her, leaving her charging into thin air, and she had to angle down sharply to avoid its hooves. Momentum drove her down even as she swung her back legs forward to brake, and she stopped just inches away from the ground. Ascending again, she twisted to the side just in time to dodge another blow. She used the chance to fly up so that she was level with her enemy.

What followed was a flurry of movement from both of them, left and right, forward and backward, front legs kicking and blocking as each tried to land a solid blow on the other. Before long, the sound of Antenna's own breathing became deafening to her, her heart pounding at the strain of flitting aside the enemy's lightning-fast strikes, thrusting her legs at it, and staying aloft began to grind away her vigor.

Finally, gasping from the effort, Antenna drove a hoof into the pegasus' neck. It hacked and coughed and began wavering, and she charged headlong into it before it could recover. Seconds later, they fell to the ground, Antenna on top with the pegasus splayed on its back beneath her. With a triumphant shout, she bared her fangs and lunged for its neck. But at the last second, Antenna was struck in the side by some impossible blow, exactly where her wing connected to her back. There was a sound like tearing paper, and she hissed as her wing joint exploded in pain. She was struck again, this time in the side of the head, and was sent rolling off of the guard.

Antenna could feel that her right wing was bent at an unnatural angle, and she was thankful that she was able to brace herself against the ground before she rolled far enough to put any pressure on it. Scrambling to stand, she turned to look at her assailant.

Her heart sank when she saw that it was the pegasus Scarab had been dueling with. What had happened to Scarab, then? She didn't have time to dwell on the question; the pegasus, limping slightly and bleeding from its nose, was advancing on her. Meanwhile, the other was getting back to its hooves.

She swung at the pegasi as they came close, but her movements were limited by her wing joint's screaming protests. Her enemies, not being similarly handicapped, batted aside her front legs all too quickly. The instant her defenses were down, they drove their hooves into her face, her neck, her chest, her sides, her legs, over and over, each blow hurting worse than the last. One came down on her wing joint from above, and then she was huddled on the ground, at the mercy of ponies. Her mind couldn't be bothered to register it. The only thing that mattered now was the blinding pain in her wing.

As the sharpest of Antenna's agony began to dull, she heard the pegasi speaking.

"—both of them."

"Check on Star and Winter."

Hooves clapped on stone. Out of the corner of her eye, Antenna saw the uninjured pegasus kneel over the unicorn she had defeated.

"Winter? Hey, can you hear me? Come on, get up." The pegasus prodded the unicorn with a hoof, then shook its head and looked at the other pegasus. "He's out, sir."

The lower-ranking pegasus walked over to the other unicorn and tried similarly to wake it up, but to no avail. It muttered something under its breath, then turned expectantly to its commander.

"Alright. We're carrying them out of here," the commander said. "We wouldn't stand a chance if we tried to get the mare out ourselves."

"Sir, what about the bugs? They're still alive." Antenna's heart leapt; Scarab wasn't dead!

"We can't capture them without a unicorn," the pegasus continued, "and if we leave them, they might get back up and hit us while we're carrying Star and Winter, sir."

The other pegasus, apparently an officer, looked between Antenna and Scarab. There was a slight pause before it said anything, but before it even opened its mouth, a horrible certainty seized Antenna.

"Alright. Kill them."

Antenna swallowed a cry as the lower-ranking pegasus agreed and began to trot towards her. Its pace was slow, leisurely, almost mocking. She began to push herself to her hooves, hoping she could get into a fighting stance before it could reach her. Her broken wing screamed its protests, but it would have to wait.

It didn't matter. As soon as she stirred, the pegasus quickened its pace. She'd barely lifted her front legs before it brought a hoof down on her head. Her face bounced against the ground, and she was dizzied.

Antenna felt a spike of pain as a sudden pressure came down on her wing, and she knew it was over. Even so, she wriggled and snapped her fangs at the leg pinning her, not caring if she had to break her wing off completely to escape, but to no avail. The pegasus had one front leg pinning her right where it had broken, and the other front leg was raising, raising, like the blade of a guillotine, about to fall on her head.

Then Scarab stood up.

The pegasus turned with a start, and its leg dangled in midair as it looked at him with wide eyes. Steady trails of blood leaked from sickeningly wide cracks in Scarab's face. He paid them no mind as he steadily crept towards the pegasus, red-tinged fangs bared. It looked between Antenna and Scarab, and she felt the pressure on her side ease.

The higher-ranking pegasus ran in front of Scarab, but it was too late. In one smooth motion, Antenna twisted herself loose, turned her head, and sank her teeth into the leg that had been pinning her. The pegasus shouted and tried vainly to wrench itself free. As hard as it tugged, her grip held firm, so it began to kick at her wing with its other front leg.

The other pegasus landed a blow to Scarab's face with its good front leg, splashing droplets of blood against its hoof. Scarab didn't even seem to register the kick, rearing before buffeting the pegasus with both front hooves. It began to back away from the assault, but Scarab used the chance to lift off. He struck its snout from above and it reeled, and then he dove down and tackled it to the ground. Seizing his chance, he kicked it in the face and neck repeatedly, not relenting until its shouts died off. Then, Scarab stood up and turned toward the other pegasus and Antenna. The officer didn't get back up.

Antenna had not released her enemy. Now outnumbered, it grew frantic in its escape efforts, straining itself pulling against her jaws and striking every part of her it could reach with its free front hoof. Sheer determination locked Antenna's grip in place, and it wasn't long before Scarab was in front of it, throwing kicks that it couldn't defend against. Finally the pegasus fell, and for a few seconds, the only sounds were Scarab's wheezing breaths. He suddenly reeled, struggling to steady himself.

"S—Scarab," Antenna said as she gingerly stood up, voice shaking. "Are you all right?"

"I'll be okay," Scarab said quietly.

"But your face," Antenna said, raising a hoof. "We have to get you to the medical cluster."

"No, Antenna. I won't let you try to fight your way there. It would be too much of a risk even without that broken wing."

"Too much of a risk to save my pod leader from possibly bleeding to death?" Antenna narrowed her eyes.

"Yes, Antenna. Better one dead drone than two."

"Better no dead drones than one."

"Antenna, forget it. We'll go back to our quarters and do what we can there. That's an order. Understood?"

"But..." Antenna swallowed, eyes tracing over the ugly, wet gashes in Scarab's face. "Yes, Pod Leader."

Scarab nodded, turned, and began to walk away. Antenna tailed him as slowly as she could, but not slowly enough to prevent a jabbing pain in her wing at every step.

Author's Note

As of 5/26/14, a scene with Pincer has been changed to better fit a future chapter.

Sublimation

It didn't take long for Pincer to adjust to his new cell. It was more or less identical to the old one, with the exception that it had a solid metal front wall in place of bars and a thick, exterior door that could close over the normal barred one. Thankfully, the Royal Guard had not seen fit to completely seal him from the world by shutting the heavier door.

He lay staring at the wall long after he'd collapsed onto the bed. The future of The Hive and of his fellow changelings was being written each passing second. There would come a point, and he had no way of knowing when, that someone would come to his cell and tell him something or take him somewhere that would tell him whether his worst fears had come true. In a way, it seemed almost improper to fall asleep while waiting for something so important.

Despite this, he found himself jolted from a light sleep by a hoof banging on the wall of his cell. It was Vigilant Watcher.

"We got 'em," she said, peering through the door. "About a hundred and fifty ponies. Also took in a good couple dozen spies."

Pincer sat up and took a moment to digest this. Going by the numbers, the attack had been a massive success for Equestria. That much was good, he told himself. Maybe this would be over quickly.

"What about casualties?" he asked, lifting a hoof. "How many dead? On both sides?"

"Can't tell you," Watcher said, shaking her head. "We won't know for a few days, at least."

Pincer glanced between the walls of his cell.

"Anyway," Watcher continued, a trace of a smile appearing on her face, "we didn't just grab the ponies while we were down there. We got the big prize."

"What was that?" Pincer asked. She didn't have time to answer before his eyes went wide. "You actually..."

Watcher nodded. "Chrysalis is in a special cell, awaiting judgment by Princess Celestia."

Suddenly the cold stone beneath him became strangely vivid to Pincer. He scuffed at the ground with a hoof. "I guess that's really it then," he said, more to himself than to Watcher.

"Oh, you think so?" Watcher asked.

"Yeah. No cocoons, no queen, no spies. You... you did well." Pincer's gaze drifted. "Looks like we're in Celestia's hooves."

"You'll be fine," Watcher said with a tinge of impatience.

Pincer looked at Watcher. "Has she said, anything, then? What's going to happen to me, or us, now?"

Watcher shook her head. "Haven't heard a thing." She tapped her chin with her hoof. "By the way, you know a changeling named Antenna?"

"Antenna? Is she here?"

Watcher flicked her tail and glanced down the corridor. "She is, but she doesn't seem very happy with you."

Pincer looked down at his hooves.

"I take it she's a friend of yours?" Watcher said a bit more softly.

"She is. Or at least, she was."

For a few moments, there was a heavy silence save for the crackling of the wall torches.

"She's in the infirmary right now," Watcher said.

"The infirmary!" Pincer dropped — nearly leaped — off of the bed. "How's she doing? Is it serious?"

"Broken wing," Watcher said. "You'd know better than I would how serious that is, but they've got her in recovery now."

Pincer relaxed. Broken wings were treatable in The Hive, and he knew firsthoof that Equestria's medical services were better than The Hive's. "Okay. Thanks. Would it... be possible to see her?"

Watcher raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

"It's because of me she's there, isn't it? Even if I didn't want it to happen, isn't it only fair I answer to her?"

"I don't think she's gonna listen to you."

Pincer stomped a hoof. "Not your problem. If she hates me now, I have to accept that. But I've got to face the consequences of what I've done."

Watcher gave him a brief sideways look, but there was a flicker of understanding on her face before she spoke. "Alright. I suppose I can't really blame you. It sounds like you two were pretty close. I'll ask them."

He thanked her, and she left. Only a few minutes had passed before she returned with a pegasus guard stallion.

"Doctors said she could have visitors, and she said she wanted to see you," she said, lowering her horn to unlock his cell door. "I'll just say that if I were you, I wouldn't get close enough for her to bite."

Compared to when he'd been wheeled out so many months ago, the infirmary was unrecognizable. It was like a maze, with rows of beds and tables packed into blocks with edges marked by curtains. From the occasional glance Pincer caught in narrow gaps between sheets, every bed was occupied by a changeling. A cacophony of hisses and curses, directed at unseen doctors and nurses, filled the air. Guilt began to well up inside him, and he hadn't crossed half the length of the room before being overcome with an urge to gallop out of the infirmary. Thankfully, Watcher soon stopped outside a side room and gestured him in

"Doctors moved her here before they'd let you visit her," she whispered. "Don't want the others getting more testy than they already are."

Pincer nodded and went through the doorway, and Watcher shut the door behind him. As he entered the room, Clean Bill was leaving, and she sidestepped him on her way out. He'd barely had time to register it before she was gone, and he was left alone in the room with Antenna, bound to an operating table. She was baring her fangs at him with such sheer hatred that he felt a lump in his throat.

"Traitor," she whispered, voice dripping with venom.

"Antenna, please, I need you to listen."

"This is your fault," Antenna said, leaning within her restraints to give him a clearer view of her wing. "Why, Pincer? Why did you side with them?"

"Because Chrysalis was lying. Celestia wants to help us."

"Help?" Antenna shouted. "Are you out of your mind? Changelings are dead. I was almost one of them, and so was Scarab. We've lost all our food. They've taken Queen Chrysalis." She looked away. "It's all over."

"Scarab?" Pincer leaned forward. "He's alive? Where is he?"

"Supposedly, he's in surgery," Antenna said. "But when he gets out, if he gets out, he'll have nothing to say to you. Those ponies you sided with split his headplate. You should have a look, so you'll see what you let them do."

Pincer shuddered. Such injuries were often permanently disfiguring. He swallowed. "But, but they had to! They were rescuing their people! They're not going to fight us anymore. They're going to help us rebuild, and find new ways to get love."

"They told you that? And you believed them?"

Pincer nodded. "They aren't what we've been told they are. They've shown that to me."

"How could you be so damned stupid?" Antenna looked at him in disgust. "They've been waiting for this chance for hundreds of years. They're going to kill us all."

"If that's true, then why are you here?" Pincer asked. "Why'd they take you here and treat your wing instead of killing you when they had the chance?"

Antenna glanced at her bent, bandaged wing. "I don't know. I don't have a clue what they're planning. It doesn't matter, though. You still sold us out. You've ruined all our lives!"

"Antenna, please. I know this is hard, but there's a new life ahead. A better life. I've seen it for myself, and there's a better way. One without beatings, or abuse. We won't have to worry about being sent to Cluster Thirty-Two anymore, and you won't get left to bleed with huge pieces of your plates cut off when you get sick or hurt."

"Lovely." Antenna spat. "Good to know that's working out for you. Too bad some of us are too dead to enjoy it. And where do you get off thinking the rest of us wanted it?"

"I didn't want to force it on you," Pincer said. He looked squarely at Antenna. "But the ponies we captured didn't have a choice either."

"How can you put them on the same level as us?"

"They're not that different from us, Antenna, and they're not out to get us. Why shouldn't I put them on our level? Because they're not changelings? If they felt the same way about us, we'd all be dead."

Antenna scowled and jerked her head away. "I was right. You're a traitor. Now get out."

Pincer grimaced, but almost immediately took a step forward. "Why am I wrong?" he barked. "Can you tell me that? Can you give me one good reason?"

"Just get out," Antenna hissed.

"If you can't even explain—"

"Get out!"

Shaking his head, Pincer slowly walked away. He felt more alone than ever now. Vigilant Watcher, who had been waiting outside with the other guard, gave him a glance of apparent pity. He wasn't sure if she'd heard the shouting, but he had the feeling his face told all.

She looked like she wanted to say something, but no words seemed to come to her. He fell back into line, and both remained silent as he walked with her back to his cell.

"All right," Watcher said as she shut the door behind Pincer. "Anything else you need before we head off?"

Pincer tapped at the ground. He thought of Antenna, and of Nurse Clean Bill, and of how Antenna had treated him, and of how Nurse Clean Bill had treated him.

"I need you to look into one of the nurses," he said. "Clean Bill. I think she might be mistreating patients."

Watcher raised an eyebrow. "You do? Why?"

Pincer looked Watcher in the eyes. "Because she did it to me. I can't prove it, but I don't expect you to punish her for that. I just don't want it happening to anyone else."

"I'll pass it along, then," Watcher said. "Sorry they put you through that, though."

"Wasn't your fault," Pincer said. "I should've said something. I misjudged you. Most of you, anyway."

She smiled briefly before saying goodbye. Moments after she disappeared from view, loneliness crept up on Pincer and seized him. He began pacing in a circle. It didn't seem that Antenna could ever forgive him. Even though he hadn't seen Scarab's face, he doubted he could ever look him in the eyes again. The connections he had formed with some of the ponies, connections that had grown stronger than he'd ever believed, now suddenly seemed feeble in light of what he'd lost.

Pincer was jolted by the sound of hooves rapping on stone. In a slow, weary motion, he stopped and turned his head to look through the cell door. He found it odd that a guard would be in such a hurry to see him.

The pony that skidded to a stop in front of his cell wasn't a guard at all. It was Twilight Sparkle, eyes wide with worry.

Even if Pincer hadn't been caught completely off-guard by her appearance and the affection she once again radiated, he wouldn't have known what to say. As it was, he stared at her as though trying to determine if he were hallucinating the fretting, pacing figure before him.

"Pincer! I'm so sorry! I was so mad when you told me the secret, I didn't think about how hard it was for you to do that in the first place. And I got a letter from Celestia where she said how well the rescue mission had gone and how much you'd helped them, and..." She took a breath and lowered her head.

"I've been a terrible friend."

Silence hung in the air. Twilight was giving Pincer a look that seemed almost pleading. After a few moments, she turned round and began to walk away slowly and dejectedly.

"Hey, wait," Pincer said. To his relief, Twilight stopped. She looked at him over her shoulder.

"Thanks for coming back," he said.

Twilight gasped and then smiled, her eyes sparkling. She trotted back to Pincer's cell and touched the bars.

"Thanks for having me back," she said. For a moment they just looked at each other, and Pincer began smiling himself.

"So, have you been okay down here?" Twilight asked. "Have you still been getting time around town?" She leaned forward. "Did you read any new books?"

Pincer told her what had happened to him while she was gone: how he was fed by Celestia's love, how he'd been confined to the castle but allowed to freely use the library, when he'd been moved to solitary confinement, and finally his confrontation with Antenna.

"That's awful!" Twilight said. "Not that I'd expect Antenna to come around overnight, but it sounds like you two used to be so close."

"It wasn't pleasant," Pincer said. "I'm just glad you got here when you did."

"So am I." Twilight looked about, then frowned. "Though now that I'm here, there's not much we can actually do. I mean, I hardly think Celestia's going to let you visit town at a time like this."

Pincer shook his head. "Come to think of it, should you have left Ponyville so suddenly? Your friends, the other element bearers, do they know you're here?"

"I left a note at the library. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if they came here later. I'd expect Celestia would want them here to help convince the other changelings to, well, change their ways."

Pincer flicked his tail. "Speaking of Princess Celestia, next time you see her, could you ask her about taking this off?" He touched the ring on his horn.

Twilight nodded. "Sure! In fact, I was kind of wondering about that myself. I've never gotten a good chance to study a changeling transformation up-close." She put a hoof over her mouth. "I'd only do it if you let me, of course."

"I wouldn't mind." Pincer grinned. "In fact, I could show you some impressions. How'd you like to meet yourself?"

"I'd love to see them! I'll ask Celestia now, actually, assuming she's not too busy."

They exchanged goodbyes. Pincer felt the warmth of her love fade away as she left, but he was smiling nonetheless. After all, he knew that she, and it, would be back soon.

What he had not expected was that, when Twilight returned a while later, Vigilant Watcher would be with her.

"Princess Celestia actually wants to talk to you right now," Twilight said as Watcher began to unlock the cell. "She didn't tell me what it was about, though."

They soon reached the throne room. As the guards swung open the doors, Twilight gave Pincer a reassuring smile. Taking a breath, he stepped into the now-familiar room and stood before Celestia.

"Now, Pincer, you wish to have your suppression ring removed?" she began, her tone light.

Pincer nodded. "If that's possible now."

Celestia gazed at his horn. "Yes, I think the time has come." Her horn began to glow. "You've certainly proven yourself trustworthy," she said in a lower tone.

The tip of Pincer's horn tingled, and with a small tug, the ring came off. Celestia sent it sailing towards her in an arc, and lowered it to the arm of her throne, where it landed with a clink. Pincer tapped his horn.

"Thank you," he said simply.

Celestia nodded. "I'm sure you'll also be glad to hear that, as of tomorrow, you will be released from your cell. By then, we'll have all of the captured prisoners settled and will be ready to begin preparing them for peaceful coexistence with Equestria and the other nations."

Pincer tapped a hoof against the carpet. "I'm glad you trust me. What am I to do for shelter now, then? Have you chosen somewhere else for me to stay, or should I work my way into Canterlot society?"

Celestia chuckled lightly. "I'm not going to throw you out to fend for yourself." She frowned. "However, I do think that your continued presence here would, unfortunately, make things more difficult to us. The other changelings still believe you to be a traitor, I'm afraid."

"You're right. I already spoke with one of them earlier. She was a childhood friend, but she wouldn't even listen to me." Pincer's head lowered almost unnoticeably.

"Don't despair yet," Celestia said softly. "You were not so different from her once, and it took far more than a single conversation before you saw things in a new way."

"I just hope the others finally will, too."

"As do I," Celestia said. "For now, however, I'm afraid you must return to your cell again. I wish I could release you now and allow you to visit town, but right now, things are too chaotic. If a prisoner escaped, they might be mistaken for you."

"I understand the need. I'm worried about the possibility of the opposite happening, too, though. Even the ponies that have grown used to me know that the others are still a threat, and I don't know if they could tell me apart from them by looking."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Celestia said. "Ponies would be expecting an escaped changeling to either be wearing a magic-nullifying ring or disguising themselves. Canterlot is well aware of who you are, and they should remain calm as long as there's no reason to believe the changeling they see is not you.

But, things don't always go as we plan. Just to be safe, I'll be informing the Royal Guard officers stationed in the city that they can expect you to be around, and how to identify you. That will make things easier for everyone.

Of course, you now have the option to assume the form of a pony before going out, if you feel that is safest."

Pincer looked at the ring on the throne, then at the steely-faced guards, then at Celestia. "I won't," he said. "Right now, I'm the only drone who can show what we can be. I can't do that if I'm hiding."

"And I'm sure you'll do a fine job," Celestia said. Pincer felt himself swell with pride, but a question occurred to him.

"One of your guards mentioned that you have Queen Chrysalis held captive," he said. "Can you tell me what you plan to do with her?"

Celestia frowned. "She's going to be in jail for a very long time. Things will be much easier if we can convince her to transfer queenship to a female drone who would be more receptive to us, though."

Pincer nodded and straightened his posture. "If you can convince her. And once the rest start to accept you, finding a suitable queen won't be too difficult. And once you do, most of us would follow her to the ends of the Earth."

"I think so, too," Celestia said. "Now, I must coordinate efforts to begin feeding and rehabilitating the other changelings, so you are dismissed. Twilight will be busy helping me with the same soon, but I'm sure she'll still be able to spend some time with you. Farewell, Pincer. I wish you the best."

Pincer left the throne room. Twilight had been talking to Vigilant Watcher outside, and when she looked at him, her face lit up.

"Oh, they finally took your ring off! That means you're free now, right?" Twilight said.

Pincer touched his horn again. "You sound more excited than I am," he said, chuckling. "I've still got to stay in the cell a bit longer, though."

"One more day," said Watcher. "But I think you can handle that." She gave a hint of a smile.

"Seems hard to believe," Pincer said. He looked at Twilight. "Anyway, now that you're here, do you want to..."

Twilight gave an apologetic look. "Sorry, but I've got some preparations I need to make today. Celestia told me to expect my friends — my other friends — here soon. I'm going to get some notes on the situation in order for them. I should have some time tomorrow, though."

With that, they parted ways, and Watcher led Pincer back to his cell. He resolved to spend the rest of the day reading a book on the history of the Equestria-Gryphus War, but anticipation kept making his mind wander. He ended up taking long, supervised walks around some of the less busy areas of the castle — the indoor garden, the royal archives, various out-of-the-way corridors — before lunch, after lunch, and after dinner. Paying no heed to the presence of guards, strolling among imperious marble columns and fat rose bushes and shelves packed with books, he lost himself in thoughts of Twilight, of his fellow changelings, and of the future.

Pincer slept until breakfast the following morning.

"You're free now," the Guard unicorn towing the tray said as he opened the door. "From now on, this stays unlocked and you can leave at any time."

Pincer thanked the guard, ate his breakfast, and promptly went to sleep again.

He awoke to the sound of Twilight banging a hoof against the bars of the cell door, looking at him in anticipation.

"You must have been tired," she said, smiling, as Pincer slid out of bed. "Anyway, how would you feel about lunch with my friends from Ponyville today? They'll be arriving by train soon, so I thought we could meet them at the platform."

"You mean the other Element bearers?" Pincer asked, giving Twilight a sideways look. "What have you told them about me? They might not be as accepting of a loose changeling as you are. Will they even be expecting me?"

"Well..." Twilight brought a hoof up to her mouth. "There wasn't really time to tell them anything. By the time it occurred to me, I was already in a hurry to get back here and apologize to you. If you want, though, you can wait at Molto's while I get them. I'll explain things to them on the way there."

"And you're sure they'll trust you? I mean, Rainbow Dash doesn't really seem like the type to get all the answers before she acts," said Pincer.

Twilight chuckled. "Oh, Rainbow Dash isn't going to jump you in public or anything. She'll probably be a bit standoffish at first, but she'll get used to you."

"If you're sure," Pincer said. "Molto's, then?"

"That sounds great! Let's go."

They separated before Pincer reached the restaurant. It was a warm, sunny day in Canterlot, and despite recent events, the steady, purposeful flow of the city continued as it always had. It was his first time out in the city alone, and perhaps it was because that made him feel more vulnerable, but it seemed as though he were getting more suspicious looks and ponies were keeping their distance from him more than last time. Better they kept their distance than got close enough to attack him, he supposed.

"Oh my gosh! There he is!"

Pincer jerked his head in the direction of the noise, prepared to run, but he realized it didn't sound accusing or threatening. It sounded almost eager. As he turned around, he saw Twilight and her friends: Pinkie Pie, the one who'd called out and who was hopping with an ear-to-ear grin; Rainbow Dash, flying over the others' heads, looking at him appraisingly; Fluttershy, seeming as though she were forcing herself to keep walking towards him; Rarity, staring wide-eyed; and Applejack, trailing steadily behind the others.

Pinkie Pie galloped towards him, oblivious to the look of dismay on Twilight's face. As she got close, Pincer sidestepped by reflex, convinced she was going to crash into him. She didn't; she kicked to a halt so close their noses almost touched.

"Hi, Pincer! It's great to meet you! Well, I guess I might've met you during the wedding, but it's not like we had a chance to talk to each other. Sorry if I hurt you while that was going on, but I won't hurt you again because now we're gonna be friends! Oh, I've never been friends with a changeling before! Can you change into me? I saw a bunch of them do that, but none of them got it right. And one of them was right in front of me! Can you believe that? Right in front of me!"

Pinkie took a breath, leaned forward, and grinned the widest grin Pincer had ever seen. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see passing ponies slowing down or stopping to stare at them. In spite of it, he smiled. He'd never seen someone radiate so much love for someone they'd just met, and it washed over him like a warm bath.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Pinkie Pie." He looked past her shoulder at the other four, whose faces were colored by varying degrees of doubt. "I think we should get in there and get a table before we talk, though," he said a bit more loudly.

"I must agree," said Rarity, trotting toward them, casting fretful glances at the staring bystanders as she went. "Quickly, please. This is turning into a scene."

"Come on then, everyone," Twilight said. They went in, Pinkie Pie surging ahead of the others and Rainbow Dash landing by Pincer.

"I've got some questions for you, mister, and you'd better be ready as soon as your butt hits that chair," she said. Pincer gave her the mildest look he could manage.

They seated themselves at a circular table, with Rainbow Dash sitting directly across from Pincer. She used the opportunity to leer at him over her hooves, which she had pressed together.

"So what made you decide to switch sides, anyway?" she asked after their orders had been taken.

"It's long and complicated."

"Give me the short version, then." Rainbow Dash clapped her hooves together.

"Well..." Pincer gestured to Twilight, who was sitting to his right. "It was mostly because of her, really. Our queen lied to us. She said you hated us all and wanted to kill us. Twilight proved otherwise."

Rainbow Dash turned to Twilight. "How'd you get him to do that?"

Twilight grinned sheepishly. "You know, just being a friend to him. I think that was all he really needed. And it ended up, well, with me feeding him love."

"Didn't that hurt you?" Fluttershy asked, drawing attention away from Rainbow's poorly suppressed giggle. "I mean, it's good that you did it, but I remember how awful your brother looked from Chrysalis draining him all the time."

"Yeah, it can wear me out," Twilight said. "Especially the first time it happened, when he was starving. But this is a lot different from what Chrysalis was doing. Pincer's much more careful now. He just takes as much as he needs rather than trying to drain enough to fight Princess Celestia."

"It's still weird," said Rainbow Dash. "I mean, you changed, but you're still, like..." She waved a hoof. "You've still gotta sap energy from us." She gestured to the others. "Like we're still prey. I'm not anyone's prey!"

"But we'll die if we don't," Pincer said more loudly than he'd intended.

"Can't you figure something else out?" Rainbow Dash asked. "We aren't your food!"

"There are eight thousand of us! What else can we do?" Pincer looked pleadingly at Twilight.

"Maybe you should've thought about that before you built your whole life around kidnapping!"

"Now hold on," Applejack said. "Twilight, you said that you gave love to Pincer, and you didn't come out any worse for it?"

Twilight nodded. "After some food and rest, I was fine."

"And Pincer, I'm gonna assume there's nothing stopping a changeling from cooking?"

"No, why?"

Applejack turned to Rainbow Dash. "Then how about if a pony gave a changeling love, and the changeling got some food for the pony? Then they'd be feeding each other. In different ways, but it sounds fair to me."

"And surely there are other ways they could help, too," Rarity said. "No one gets by without depending on others."

Rainbow Dash rubbed the back of her neck. "I guess that makes sense."

"I think it's a great idea," Fluttershy said. "The things changelings need are just a bit different from what we're used to."

"But..." Rainbow Dash sighed. "Fine. You want to go for it, then go for it."

"Great! Now that that's out of the way, can you transform for us? Pretty please?" Pinkie Pie asked. Pincer glanced at Twilight, who was smiling encouragingly.

"I'd love to see it," she said. "You don't have to make a spectacle if you don't want to, but wouldn't you like to do it again after all this time?"

Pincer looked at the ponies. The ponies looked back.

"I suppose I can," he said. "What should I change into?"

"Ooh! Me!" Pinkie Pie said. Looking around the table again, Pincer saw the others leaning forward.

"Do give it a try, please," Rarity said.

Pincer nodded, closed his eyes, and pooled energy at the tip of his horn. He was bathed in a green flash, and when it faded, he was Pinkie Pie.

"Well? How'd I do?" he said, the words coming at a high and unfamiliar pitch. "I mean, I've never really done Pinkie before, so I might've gotten a couple of the details wrong."

Rarity's eyes were wide. Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow. Pinkie Pie started to grin. Without thinking about it, Pincer hopped, planting his back legs on his seat.

"Wait, wait, wait..." He craned his neck over at Pinkie Pie, pretending to scrutinize her. "Oh my gosh! It's me! I'm sitting at a table eating lunch with me! I never thought about what it'd be like to meet myself! But then, I guess I already know myself. Except this isn't me-me, it's another me! Which..." He looked at his hoof, then at Pinkie Pie. "...isn't me!"

Pinkie Pie burst into laughter. Rainbow Dash did likewise, and the other ponies present chuckled. Then, Pinkie hopped up onto her chair, mimicking Pincer's posture.

"Oh, you think you can go around saying you're just like me, huh?" she said in mock indignation. "Why, I bet you've never planned a party in your life!"

"Yeah?" Pincer said. "I could throw these ponies the best party they've ever seen!"

"There's no way you could do that, 'cause they've already seen my parties!"

Noticing that they were drawing stares from nearby tables, Pincer slumped and let his head drop. "Okay... you've got me there," he said in faux resignment. He channeled his magic and again was wrapped in green flame, returning to his original form. He grinned.

The ponies chuckled, and Pinkie Pie started to grin herself. "Yeah, definitely better than that other guy."

They were interrupted by the arrival of a unicorn waiter, who levitated their plates to them.

"So, Pincer, what about those wings of yours?" Rainbow Dash asked, not bothering to swallow her enormous bite of spaghetti first. "I saw changelings flying, and no offense, but I'll bet I could fly circles around you guys. Are you any better at it than them?"

Pincer took a modest spoonful of his own vegetable soup before answering. "Well, our carapaces make us heavier than pegasi. Slower, harder to turn. Flying's more of a secondary thing for us."

"I guess that makes sense," said Rainbow Dash. "But I'm asking about you. How do you stack up compared to them?"

Pincer looked down at his soup, which he drank from. "I'm a poor flier," he said, wiping his snout, "but you're not my superior, and you don't have any business judging me for it."

Rainbow Dash let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. "Fine, I was just asking," she said, turning her attention to her food. The other ponies exchanged looks.

"So, Pincer, you have any family at home?" Applejack asked after a stiff silence.

"Of sorts," he said. He told them about The Hive's pods and clusters, and about his pod, and Antenna and Scarab.

"You mean you all have to sleep in holes in the wall, in dull, black chambers that all look the same?" asked Rarity, looking vaguely ill, letting her lettuce-laden fork float high in the air.

Pincer nodded. "It never bothered me. It just felt right."

"Oh no, dear," Rarity said, "that's just unacceptable. Why, as soon as it's safe for ponies to come to The Hive, I simply have to do something to liven it up! They'll thank me, I'm sure."

"They won't," Pincer said. "Well, I'd imagine some of them will. We're not all the same. The sleeping arrangements aren't really my problem with how Chrysalis does things, though."

"That Scarab fellow sounds pretty decent," said Applejack. "Maybe he won't be too hard to talk some sense into."

"About treating changelings better, yes. He always saw ponies as prey, though."

"Oh yeah?" said Rainbow Dash, an edge to her voice. "We just kicked his queen's butt. Is he gonna sit there and tell me we're just prey after that?"

Pincer shrugged. "He won't change his mind right away. I should know. I didn't."

Applejack whistled. "Sounds like we got our work cut out for us."

"But it's a great opportunity," Twilight said. "If we can pull this off, we can do something wonderful, something that's never been done before."

"But it sounds like there are so many of them," Fluttershy said, biting her lip. "What if we don't get to them all in time?"

"That won't happen." The others looked at Pincer when he said it. He looked at Twilight.

"You saved me before anyone even knew it could be done. We aren't incompatible with ponies, even if we've spent our whole lives acting like we are. I'm the proof. We just have to make the others see."

"Yeah!" Pinkie Pie said, having just swallowed a very large bite of a very large cookie. "If they hate us 'cause they think we'll do horrible things to them, but then we'll be super friends to them, we'll prove them wrong! And I'm just the pony to do it!"

They all laughed, though Pincer's was muted. He found himself imagining how his podmates would react to such a thing. Or Commander Formic, for that matter. When, if ever, would they come around?

Soon they'd finished their meals, and six hooves counted out bits to pay — Twilight, as usual, covered Pincer's.

"Hopefully now that I'm free, I'll be able to start earning money myself again," he told her as they left the restaurant, going towards the castle. "I'm not quite sure what to do with the extra I make, though. Normally I'd send it back to The Hive, but that's not really an option right now. And besides, I've got this fear in the back of my mind. What if they just store it up to use it against Equestria? I'm not sure who I should be giving it to."

"You don't have to give it to anyone if you don't want to," Twilight said. "Except whatever Equestria collects in taxes."

"I suppose I could spend it on..." Pincer's gaze drifted towards the sparse clouds. "Books, maybe? Trips to the theater? Just using money however I want seems strange."

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," said Twilight. "If you're really not sure, you can always just give it to charity."

They stopped at the castle entrance, and the six ponies looked at Pincer.

"We're going to talk to Princess Celestia now and see how we can help," Twilight said. "Are you going to come with us?"

Pincer waved a hoof. "Celestia — Princess Celestia — doesn't think there's anything else I can do right now. Trying to get some sort of work is probably the best plan, really. Anything that gets ponies used to us. Maybe I should try to join an actors' group now."

"Well, I do wish you the best of luck," Rarity said. "I'm sure you'll do a fine job of it. I suppose you've always been an actor of a sort, after all." The others nodded in agreement.

Pincer smiled. "Thank you. I'll do my best." And with that, they parted ways.

The next few weeks began with a massive undertaking that Pincer mostly learned of second-hoof from Twilight. The Element Bearers, the Princesses, psychologists and therapists from across the land, and anyone else who was willing came to the castle to try and form a connection with the changelings.

It was difficult going. Just as Pincer had, many of the changelings shut them out completely. Others would pretend to agree with them just long enough to lower their guard so that they could escape. These attempts, thankfully, all failed.

Gradually, though, through a combination of patient negotiation and reasoning, kind treatment receptive to their needs, and feeding by those that could manage it, the first few prisoners began to open up to conversation with the ponies. Not long after that, the first changelings began to trickle into downtown Canterlot, taking cautious and Guard-supervised steps into a world that they might one day walk freely in.

Twilight seemed pleased at the progress, but there was an undercurrent of worry in her voice. Dozens of changelings were showing signs of acceptance, but there were thousands of them, and by all estimates, the first starvation deaths would occur in less than two months.

"A lot of them remind me of you when you first came here," she told him one night at his cell, a month into the effort. Her ears drooped. "They don't just hate us, they've lost all hope, too."

"I was afraid they might," Pincer said quietly, eyes not leaving her. "There's nothing left for them to fight for. Equestria's already got what it wants, and they can't change that. They shouldn't be doing this. Most of us would die for The Hive, but they're not helping The Hive if they die for nothing."

"Twilight, do you think I was being naive?" He narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Thinking I could make things better for everybody. Thinking I wouldn't be dooming my friends and family by helping Equestria. Thinking things could be any other way for changelings."

Twilight shook her head. "Pincer, it's not your fault—"

Pincer stomped his hoof. "As changelings, we're all responsible for each other. Just because I don't like their — our — queen or what we've done doesn't change that. Don't try to absolve me of this. Right or wrong, the consequences are mine to live with."

Twilight looked at Pincer piteously. After a few moments of heavy silence, she walked towards him and raised a hoof, as if to touch his shoulder.

"We're not out of time yet," she said. "The best in Equestria have all come together to work on this. And I'm sure the other changelings will come to understand the difference between dying for The Hive and dying for nothing. I think that, even after what they've been through, they still want to live. And we want them to live, too. Princess Celestia thinks that can happen, and I think we can agree, Celestia is anything but naive."

Pincer glanced down at her hoof. Before he could talk himself out of it, he brought up his own front hooves and wrapped them around it.

"I hope you're right," he said.

Twilight, despite her look of surprise, didn't draw away.

One week later, the golden glow of Princess Celestia's horn enveloped the thick, polished iron doors at the end of the dungeon hallway. They swung open, revealing a steep, descending staircase inside a claustrophobic, circular stone chamber. In the chamber, at the bottom of the stairs, chains binding her legs and three separate suppression rings clamped onto her horn, was Queen Chrysalis. She slowly craned her neck to look at Celestia, managing a scowl.

"Are you going to let it go yet?" Celestia asked coldly. "I've found a candidate."

"Never," Chrysalis said with equal chill.

"Your reign needs to end," Celestia said, shaking her head. "The only place you will lead your subjects now is to their destruction. They need another queen, one who will better serve them."

"No one you would accept would be a better queen than me!" Chrysalis shouted. "Changelings are predators. We sneak. We attack. We take. It's what we are. It's what we always have been. You may have beaten me, Celestia, but I won't give you the satisfaction of making me be the one to give up our ways. I won't be remembered as the queen who surrendered everything we were to you."

Celestia narrowed her eyes. "And how do you think you'll be remembered if you refuse?"

Chrysalis simply stared.

"Changelings will survive as a race whether you act or not," Celestia continued. "We already have enough starting to accept our friendship to ensure that happens. Especially," she said in a voice dripping with disgust, "from Cluster Thirty-Two. As a matter of fact, that's where the drone I would like you to pass queenship to is from. She was, as you might have anticipated, quite receptive to the idea of a life where she wouldn't be abused and disposable.

"While I assure you I'll do my best to save as many changelings as possible whatever happens, the fact remains that without your help, I can't see more than a few hundred surviving. But they will survive, Chrysalis, and they will do so because they were the most receptive to us. If all of your most loyal followers die because they didn't accept help, then those most willing to carry on the traditional ways of life, and those who have the most favorable view of you, will be gone. The survivors will be those who reject you and your ways. They will remember the pain of seeing their loved ones die, they will know you could have stopped it but did nothing, and they will harbor an anger and resentment towards you and your way of life that they will pass onto their children for generations. Their society will become, I imagine, completely unrecognizable.

"But if you crown a new queen, most of the drones will follow her. I will not allow her to carry things on exactly as you did, no. As she matures into full queenhood, I will make sure she commits to the changes that will allow your kind to peacefully coexist with us, and that the abuses towards the lower-ranking drones are done away with. But The Hive will survive. The disciplined and orderly social structure will survive. It will be used to different ends, but it will emerge far more intact than if you refuse."

Celestia spread her wings. "The choice is yours, Chrysalis. Will you be remembered as the one who saved the changeling civilization, or the one who destroyed it?"

There was a wild fury in Chrysalis' eyes, and she was baring every inch of her dagger-sharp fangs. She looked as if she would like nothing more than to rip free of her bonds through sheer force of will and obliterate Celestia. Celestia, for her part, suppressed a smile.

"You damn smug prissy princess. If I had my way, I would drain every last one of those precious ponies of yours to a lifeless husk right in front of you.

She spat. "But I guess I don't have a choice. If that's how things have to be, then bring me the drone. I'll make her the new queen."

Self-actualization

"Good haul today, drones," said Scarab, looking among the eight members of his pod. The last of them had just emerged from the cluster's chilly underground food storage chamber, and he looked at her. "Especially you, Odanata. I'll be sure to tell Commander Actius who she can thank for the fresh goat." Odanata gave a brisk nod.

"Now remember, since tomorrow's Saturday, we'll be meeting our volunteers in the morning. Until then, if you need anything, I'll be in my office. Dismissed."

The pod members broke their line and went their separate ways. Only Scarab was going to the pod's living quarters, where his office was. Most of the others would be headed towards the cluster training ground to spar or race or gallop the obstacle course, with one or two going to the new liaison office outside of The Hive's main entrance to meet with a pony or two that they had come to enjoy the company of.

Scarab had barely settled onto his office seat when he heard a hoof tapping against the doorway. "Come in," he said automatically. It was another moment before he looked up from his desk and realized that the visitor was Antenna.

"Pod Leader," she said. "I want answers."

Scarab gave her an odd look. "Antenna, what's wrong?"

"Why are you helping them?" she asked, walking towards him. "The ponies. They're the enemy. You always told us that. They almost killed both of us. I came back to The Hive because I thought you'd be getting the pod ready to fight them. But all this time, you've been telling us to work with them. Why, Scarab?"

Scarab took a slow, deep breath, rested a foreleg on his desk, and leaned forward. "Antenna, do you know why I always ran my pod the way I did? Why I wasn't as hard on you as almost any other pod leader would have been?"

Antenna leered. "What's that got to do with it?"

"I have a duty to this pod, and whatever happens, I carry it out the best I can. If I'd thought it was a matter of survival, I'd be getting us ready to fight. But things have changed, Antenna. Equestria has beaten us. Our whole way of life was built around the assumption that we'd be able to stay hidden, but that's no longer the case."

"You mean you're just giving up?" Antenna asked. "You're our pod leader. You're supposed to drive us to do what has to be done. We can't let them win, right?"

"I thought that if they won, they would kill us all," Scarab said. "We all did. Antenna, I don't like this either, but right now, it's our best chance. As long as we have willing ponies, there's no reason to risk our food supply by turning against them."

Antenna stomped. "But what about our Queen? Papilio is a puppet of Celestia. As long as she's in power, Celestia can do whatever she wants to us. We can't let them define who we are!"

"Queen Papilio has made my job much easier than Chrysalis did," Scarab said brusquely. "I don't have to look over my shoulder before I help a pod member anymore."

"I don't believe this. You're going to just let them go? After what they did to you?"

Without thinking about it, Scarab touched his face. He felt one of the coarse, gray lines of fibrous tissue that divided his headplate, a changeling body's attempt to glue together pieces of its shattered exoskeleton. It was a patchwork job, one that hadn't quite fit everything back together right and one that didn't quite hold his right eye the way it should have.

"Antenna, it's going to take more than a cracked headplate for me to give up on my pod," he finally said, leaning back. "I'm not going to endanger or abandon them for revenge."

"But what if your pod members want to fight Equestria and Papilio?"

"Then that's their decision, but if they want to do it, they won't be doing it as a member of my pod."

For a few moments, the room was silent. All at once, Antenna's hard stare and unflinching posture melted away; she dropped her gaze towards the floor, slouched forward, and let her wings drop.

"Scarab, I should go. As in, leave the pod."

Scarab pulled himself forward. "What? Antenna, what are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't be a member of your pod. I don't belong here anymore."

"Antenna, you can't—"

"I can." She raised her head and buzzed her wings. "One of your beloved queen's new rules. Drones don't have to stay in a pod, or even in The Hive, if we don't want to. And why should I stay in the pod that traitor came from, anyway?"

Scarab grimaced. "Pincer... he... what we know now... he was only trying..." He shook his head. "Never mind. It's not worth it, Antenna. A lot of changelings don't agree with you. You'll spend the rest of your life hiding and fighting your own kind, assuming you don't end up in prison."

"I never said I'd start a resistance group. In fact, I'm not really sure what I'll do, but anything is better than this. This isn't the pod or The Hive I spent my life working and fighting for."

Scarab wasn't sure he believed her, but she was right. He couldn't force her to stay, and he wouldn't have even if he could. "If that's really how you feel, then there's nothing I can do to stop you. Goodbye, Antenna. If you ever return, I'll gladly welcome you back."

"Thank you, Scarab." With that, Antenna turned around and walked out, taking a moment to linger in the doorway and look about the pod sleeping quarters. A moment later, she was gone.

The red curtain drew shut, and from the other side, Pincer could hear hooves stomping the dirt in applause. He took a breath, his heart racing from both nerves and excitement, and looked among the three ponies on the stage with him. About a dozen others began to emerge from behind the stage of the small open-air theater, hurrying to take positions.

"Pretty good turnout for a town as small as Ponyville," said Lemon Drop, a butter-yellow earth pony mare, peeking through the curtain at the eight rows of rough wooden benches, packed end-to-end with ponies. "Especially for The Professor's Case. Who'd think a bunch of country bumpkins would watch a show about big city academic politics?" She tapped her chin. "But then again, Hinny of the Hills did pretty well in Manehattan." She looked at Pincer.

"You know," she said, grinning, "for a while out there, I actually forgot you were a changeling."

"Oh," Pincer said, shuffling his hooves, which were currently those of a maroon earth pony. "Thanks, I suppose."

"You were great out there as Pen Pusher," said a sea-green pegasus stallion named Pantomime. "Not often a troupe as small as ours gets someone like you. I'll bet anything you'll have more than four scenes next time."

"I feel like I should be thanking all of you," said Pincer, adjusting the brown vest he was wearing. The businesslike clerk didn't make for a very emotive role, but he'd done his best. "Giving me this chance, I mean, conidering where I come from."

"All in the past," Pantomime said. "You're a member of The Equestrian Thespians now. That's what counts."

Pincer had no time to voice his gratitude, because at that moment, the director, a gaunt white unicorn stallion, appeared from behind the stage.

"The curtain call's about to begin," he said. "Everyone in position?"

Most of them nodded, though a few of the ponies hastily shuffled around. A few seconds later, the curtain whooshed open, letting in the muggy air of the twilit summer evening.

First came the extras. They totaled about a dozen ponies, and in unison, hooves clapped against wood as they trotted to the edge of the stage in a row, bowed, and trotted back to the sounds of stomping hooves and cheering.

Pincer was next. Just as practiced, as soon as the extras had returned to their places, he started to take hasty steps towards the front of the stage. Heart pounding, he had less than a second to soak in the rows of eager ponies packed onto benches before he closed his eyes and let his front legs sink.

As loud as it was, the applause was nothing compared to the love he felt coming from the crowd. It wasn't much, to be sure, but it was there. Thin strands from here and there, from the occasional pony who had become so invested in the play that they noticed and appreciated his performance enough for him to feel it. He allowed himself to feed, knowing that the ponies likely wouldn't even notice such a small amount spread among so many of them.

Among the threads of love, Pincer felt Twilight Sparkle's. It was stronger and heavier than the others, and it had a familiar and pleasant taste. He would have liked to stay there and savor it, but he had to run back so that Pantomime could take his bow.

After the curtain call, most of the actors returned to the backstage, talking among themselves as they shed the clothes they'd donned for the performance. Pincer joined them, dispelling his disguise after he took off his vest.

"I'll see you all in a bit," he said after putting the vest away. "There's someone in the audience I want to talk to."

He dashed out of the back exit of the theater and looked towards the rows of benches. Seeing that the audience was quickly dispersing, he scanned the crowd for Twilight as he cantered toward the seating. He caught her standing near the front, looking uncertainly around the stage. When she spotted him, she smiled.

"Pincer!" she said, trotting towards him. A few other ponies turned their heads at the noise, noticing Pincer, and one or two hastened to leave. Others stood and watched.

"I loved it," Twilight said.

Pincer grinned. "I figured you would. I'm just surprised so many others around here did."

"Well, we don't get plays very often," said Twilight. "Ponyville is too small for most theater companies."

"That's actually why we're here," Pincer said. "We're pretty small-time ourselves."

Twilight smiled. "Well, at least you should always have an audience here."

"I know," said Pincer, "and it's really not so bad. I go to small towns, I entertain ponies, I get love in return. I just wish I could've started doing this a long time ago."

Twilight's eyes drifted in thought, and then she frowned. "Actually, I was wondering about Scarab and Antenna. Did they... did they ever forgive you?"

Pincer looked down. "I haven't worked up the nerve to ask. Besides, I don't even know where Antenna went after they released her."

"Have you tried The Hive?" Twilight asked. "Most of them ended up returning there, didn't they?"

Pincer shrugged. "It's not safe for me there. Queen Papilio officially pardoned me as one of the first things she did, but there are still a lot of them that would probably kill me if they thought they could get away with it. And anyway, that's where Scarab is, so I don't think I can ask him anytime soon, either."

Twilight frowned. "But if Queen Papilio is on your side, can't she keep you safe while you're there?"

"The Queen has bigger things to worry about than me," said Pincer. "Convincing changelings to play nice with ponies, convincing ponies to play nice with changelings, retraining all of those raiding and espionage crews for peaceful purposes, getting a handle on the changes her body underwent when Chrysalis made her the new Queen.... Even with Princess Celestia helping her, I'm not going to make her job harder by charging her with protecting me while I go stir up anger at The Hive."

"But you've done so much for her," said Twilight. "For all changelings. You shouldn't have to walk away like that."

Pincer took in a deep breath, then very slowly blew it out. "I'll go back someday. Maybe in a year. Maybe in ten years. But right now, it's just not the place for me. I'm happy where I am, and there are still a lot of us who can't say that. With all of the loose ends left in this, tying up mine can wait."

"I guess if you really feel that way...." Twilight pawed at the ground. "Good luck, Pincer."

"Thanks," Pincer said. "Anyway, I should probably get back with the others. I'd stop by your library while I was here, but..." He grinned. "With all the traveling I do, it might be hard to return anything I borrowed on time."

"I guess that's one reason I never went into acting," Twilight said, grinning herself. "I couldn't imagine having to carry all of my books and my notes around the country. But I understand."

They said their goodbyes, and Pincer turned and trotted away, towards the backstage and towards the ponies he was beginning to think of as his friends.

A Meeting Of Royalty

"Please, have a seat," Celestia said to Queen Papilio, gesturing toward the cushion opposite herself. Papilio did so.

"It's good to see you again, Princess," Papilio said as Celestia used her magic to slide a steaming cup of tea toward her. They were in a small meeting room in Canterlot Castle, at one end of which was a window overlooking the city. In the center was the circular table at which they sat.

"And you too, Queen," said Celestia, levitating her own teacup. "How have things been at The Hive? Are your reforms making progress?"

"Well..." Papilio shuffled her hooves and looked down. "I'm afraid I'm still having problems."

"Chin up, dear," Celestia said. "A ruler's job is never done. Problems will always arise. It's up to you to face them as a ruler should."

Papilio nodded, then looked Celestia in the eyes. She had to look up to do so. Papilio's body was still changing and growing into the figure of a changeling queen; now she was just slightly taller than a normal drone, her horn a bit more crooked, and the shadows of pupils forming in her eyes. Eventually, she would stand level with Celestia.

"I've been working nonstop to make pod leaders and Cluster Commanders stop being cruel towards the common drones," Papilio said, "but a lot of them didn't listen. I'm doing the best I can to find the troublemakers, but I can't be everywhere at once. The abuse is such a normal part of life that the changelings I can trust have their hooves full trying to verify every reported case.

"If we find a leader or a Commander that continues to abuse those under their command, I demote them to a common drone, then shuffle them off to a different pod or Cluster so that their former subordinates don't take revenge on them. Cluster Thirty-Two has proven useful for penal purposes when full imprisonment isn't warranted, though obviously I've taken every measure to ensure that the drones there aren't thrown into danger like they used to be."

Queen Papilio squared her shoulders. "I'm pleased to be able to tell you that a few months after that, complaints of abuse have dropped dramatically. It would seem that the newly-promoted pod leaders and Cluster Commanders aren't especially eager to beat and starve their friends, and that the ones who haven't been removed realize that the old excesses will cost them their titles now."

Celestia nodded. "It sounds like things are going very well. What troubles you?"

Papilio, who was taking a drink of tea, guided her cup to its plate. "The drones who are leaving The Hive. That's not a problem in itself, of course. I myself gave them the freedom to leave if they find that they aren't suited for our way of life. What worries me is who is leaving."

She began to rotate her teacup on its plate. "Many of those leaving are particularly cruel pod leaders and Cluster Commanders, along with former members of Cluster Five, internal security." Her gaze dropped for a second. "We were all afraid of Cluster Five. They could do things to us that even our pod leaders couldn't get away with, and they would jump on any excuse, too. They locked away one of my friends for years, and I never found out why. I didn't even know she was still alive until after my coronation, when I visited the cells myself to free prisoners.

"Now, it's not as though I'll terribly miss what they contributed to The Hive. In fact, if they leave, that should make things easier for the rest of us. The problem is that I don't think they're going to travel to some faraway land to retire in peace. They want the old Hive back. They want to be in power again, where they can terrorize my drones like they used to. I have this terrible feeling that they'll start an insurgency."

"Your fears are reasonable," Celestia said with a nod. "It's unfortunate that easing the burden on your drones by letting them travel and change pods has also made it easier for those addicted to cruelty to try to take their revenge."

Papilio frowned. "You aren't saying I should take that away from them again, are you?"

"No, I don't think that will be necessary," Celestia said. "There are other ways we can ensure no harm befalls your subjects. You're still monitoring arrivals to The Hive, correct?"

"With the help of the unicorn guards you provided to un-disguise changelings coming in, yes."

"And I assume you're keeping track of which drones are leaving, since you were able to tell me that most of them were from Cluster Five?"

"I didn't think to start keeping records right away." Papilio almost looked down, but caught herself. "I have some, though. Many, in fact. Enough to make it difficult if they try to sneak their way back in, I'm sure."

"Then we have at least one line of defense," said Celestia. "In a situation as volatile as this, though, we need more. How would the intelligence agents that are loyal to you feel about working with ours in the Royal Guard?"

Papilio smiled. "They're good drones. For the good of The Hive, they'll do it."

"Then we'll arrange a meeting as soon as possible and figure out what our agents can accomplish together," Celestia said.

"Of course," said Papilio. She took a swig from her teacup. "I think it's a good plan. Now, there's one more issue I wanted to bring up while I was here. You remember my plan to broaden the larvae's education program, right?"

"Yes, I remember." Celestia frowned. "Is that going alright?"

"It's too early to tell how well they're learning. By all reports, though, it's properly started. I've taken the curriculum some of your educators have helped us write, and I've had it distributed to the creche-nurses, and they've been given training on education techniques."

Papilio took her teacup in her magic grip and slowly began to rock it back and forth. "The creche-nurses are, of course, good with the children, and more knowledgeable about a lot of academic subjects than most changelings. The problem is that even they don't have a lot compared to most ponies. There are many subjects they likely won't understand well enough to effectively teach, especially areas like the sciences and the arts.

"Beyond that, I've brought a lot of new drones to the creches who obviously aren't as experienced as the longtime nurses." She glanced down. "Those poor larvae never did get enough attention under Chrysalis." She caught a hint of a frown on Celestia's face.

"All in all, it's a large problem," Papilio continued. "I think I've figured out how to correct that without relying on pony teachers, though."

The teacup rattled to a stop. "Not that I have a problem with them!" she said, the words tumbling out. "It's just that I don't think most changelings are ready to trust the larvae to ponies, and I don't want to risk their safety or stir up tensions more than I have to!"

"Be calm, Papilio," Celestia said, rapping the table with her hoof. "You can't start tripping over yourself every time you're afraid you misspoke. Remember, a smooth recovery can make a mistake almost disappear."

"Oh, yes! Of course!" Papilio said. Catching herself, she looked confidently at Celestia. "I mean, I understand. I'll remember that."

Celestia smiled. "So, what was your idea?"

"Well," Papilio said, "there is one group of drones that had to learn diverse skills that aren't normally taught in The Hive. Skills ranging from farming to physics, from painting to engineering. I'm referring, of course, to our infiltrators." She saw what looked like a glint of understanding in Celestia's eyes.

"We wanted spies with as many roles in pony society as we could manage," Papilio continued. "And to play those roles convincingly, they needed to learn the skills involved. With how things have changed between The Hive and Equestria, they'll be wanting for a new purpose. This will give it to them while preparing our teachers to pass them to my children." She drained the last bit of tea from her cup and looked at Celestia expectantly.

"That sounds like a workable plan," Celestia said, nodding. "I still think there would be benefit to pony scholars assisting in the matter, though. Though I'm sure your drones are quite skilled in their fields, knowing how to teach others is an important and distinct talent."

"A joint effort, then," Papilio said. "I can hardly refuse that." There was a brief silence during which Papilio's eyes briefly strayed from Celestia.

"Is there anything else you'd like to discuss while I'm here?" she asked. "I can't think of any other outstanding issues I wanted advice on."

"Oh, don't let me keep you," Celestia said, smiling reassuringly. "You're a busy mare now. If you have nothing further to discuss, feel free to leave."

With that, she set aside her plate and teacup. Taking this as her cue, Papilio stood up, and Celestia followed. "It was nice to see you again, Queen Papilio. I wish you the best of luck in leading your kingdom."

"And you as well," said Papilio with a nod. With that, she turned and left, ready to guide her people to a happier, better chapter of their lives.

THE END

The Princess Of Love

Princess Cadance trotted through the shadowy, moonlit halls of Canterlot Castle, her rapid, anxious hoofsteps muffled by the red carpet. She barely registered its pale arches and columns, nor did she acknowledge the bat-winged Lunar Guards standing and patrolling about. She could count on one pony to steer anyone in the right direction, and now she needed her advice more than ever. That was why she'd come to, and was now quietly knocking on, the polished gold door of Celestia's bedchamber. She desperately hoped she was still awake.

"Celestia? Can we talk?"

There was silence. Cadance's gaze drifted away from the door. What if Celestia was already asleep? Was she even in the room? She leaned in closer. She didn't hear anything. What would she do? The doctor would need her answer soon.

Then she heard a pair of thumps from the other side of the door, barely having time to breathe in relief before it lit up a soft amber and swung inward. Cadance blinked as the light from the cheerily-lit room spilled into the hallway. Standing there, tired-eyed and bereft of her royal jewelry but smiling nonetheless, was Princess Celestia.

"Oh, Cadance! It's nice to see you." She frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Tia, we need to talk," Cadance said evenly.

"Certainly." Celestia stepped to the side and motioned with her hoof. "Come in."

Cadance followed her in, past the austere grandfather clock, past the silk-curtained and snowy-white canopy bed, past Philomena's golden cage, and to the crackling fireplace and circular, white marble table built into the floor directly in front of it. Celestia motioned her to have a seat on a plush, velvet cushion, large enough for her to lie on if she so wished. Cadance slowly eased herself onto it, relaxing slightly as the heat from the fire gently warmed her. Celestia settled onto the cushion on the opposite side.

"What's bothering you? Is your husband alright?"

"Oh, no, I mean, yes, I mean..." Cadance sighed. "It's about the changeling."

"Cadance, I understand. I know what happened on your wedding day hard on both you and your husband, and I won't expect you to get involved with this matter unless you've been asked."

"That's the problem, Tia. One of the doctors wants me down there."

Celestia blinked. "What? Why would they ask you to do that, after what you've been through? When you aren't even a doctor?"

"He needs to be fed, Celestia."

Celestia's eyes widened. Then she looked at Cadance sadly. "Oh... I see. Yes, love is hardly something we can feed him on a whim. As the Princess Of Love, you would be the one to ask. I know this is unexpected, but surely you understand the importance of this?"

Cadance's ears drooped. "I'm sorry." She tapped her hoof against the floor. "I don't know if I can do this." As she spoke, she slowly lowered her head until she was staring down at the table.

"I'm afraid you must," Celestia said quietly. Cadance looked up at her in surprise, frowning.

"He'll starve if you don't," Celestia continued.

"We're helping him? After what they've done to me? What they've done to us?" Cadance brought a hoof up to the table. "Celestia, he was right there with them!"

"Tell me, Cadance, why do you think he was? Why do you think he aided them in attacking us?"

"Look, they trapped me... they fooled my husband..."

"I have no intention of excusing their misdeeds. Whatever led them to invade Canterlot does not justify their actions. But tell me, do you think they were born evil? Do you think that from the moment they were brought into this world, they were irreversibly placed on a path that would lead them to inflict nothing but pain and misery on others?"

Cadance shuffled her hooves and sighed. "I... I don't know. I'm sorry, but I just don't know. We don't know anything about them, except what they've done."

"And would you allow the captured changeling to slowly die of starvation because his race might be irredeemably evil? His life is in your hooves. Are you certain in your conviction that he is unfit to live?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then you know what you must do."

Cadance's eyes closed, her ears drooped, and her head dropped, as if resisting the realization that was dawning on her. It only lasted a moment, however, before she looked at Celestia with a new-found determination.

"You're right, Celestia. It's my responsibility. I can't let my personal feelings get in the way of that. If I did, I wouldn't deserve my title."

Celestia smiled. "I knew you could do it." She gave the old clock a quick glance. "Now, I'm sorry, but I simply must get to bed. I've got a sun to raise tomorrow, after all. Just remember that if you need to talk, I'll listen. I don't expect you to go through it alone."

"Of course. Thank you, Celestia."

Cadance stood up, eased open the door with her magic, and walked out of the bedchamber. As late as it was, she wasn't going to her own bed yet. With new courage and head held high, she descended to the dungeon and marched into its medical facility. The room was devoid of staff save for Steady Hooves and Clean Bill, both of whom stopped writing notes and reading charts to face her.

"You needed my assistance?" Cadance asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you for coming so soon," said Hooves.

"It's no trouble. I'm sure we can't afford to delay this." She paused. "Can... can I see him?"

"Certainly, Your Majesty. He's right here, I was just writing him up a chart." Hooves tapped the side of the changeling's gurney. "We had to put him to sleep for a procedure, but according to the anesthesiologist he should be awake soon. There's nothing to worry about. We have him restrained, and even when he wakes up he'll be too lightheaded to cause trouble."

Cadance nodded, then looked at the gurney. She raised one of her front hooves, but lowered it without taking a step. Then, before doubt could paralyze her, she strode over to the gurney and peered down at its occupant.

The changeling was every bit as black and bladed as any that had attacked Canterlot, but it wasn't charging and gnashing its teeth as they had. It lay there, breathing slowly and deeply in a magic-induced sleep, so tightly bound to its bed that it seemed unlikely it could've moved at all. Captured, sedated, and surrounded, it almost seemed to be an entirely different, harmless creature. Almost.

Its eyelids fluttered, and Cadance almost stepped back. Instead, though, she leaned closer. There was still a hint of nervousness in her, yes, but now anticipation had overwhelmed it. She would feed this changeling as was required, and then she would find out more about it for herself. Since it likely wouldn't be able to speak or listen very well immediately after having woken up, she decided to let it initiate the conversation. Slowly the changeling shifted its body and opened its eyelids, revealing unexpressive eyes of solid blue.

"Oh, is he awake?" asked Hooves. Cadance nodded absently. Eyes half-open, the changeling slowly turned his head to face her, slowly blinked a few times, and... smiled?

"Chrys... Chrysalis...."

Cadance raised an eyebrow. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Hooves at the other side of the table, apparently examining the changeling.

"Th—thanks...."

Cadance shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you mean."

The changeling paused for a moment, head drifting slightly to the side, but continued as if she hadn't said anything.

"Disguised yourself... back to Canterlot to save me... please, before the doc gets here...."

Cadance let out a small "oh!" as she realized what the changeling was talking about. He must have, in his half-conscious state, mistakenly concluded that she was Chrysalis in disguise, and he sounded relieved. Was this insectoid emotion vampire actually afraid?

She shook her head. "I'm not Chrysalis."

The changeling blinked and let out a cross between a groan and a "Huh?".

"I am Cadance, Princess of Equestria."

The changeling sat still for a moment, then turned his head away and let his eyes fall shut. He shook his head a few times before looking back at Cadance, shrinking away within the confines of his binds.

"You... why here? Revenge? Not afraid," he slurred.

"I'm not here to take revenge on you. I'm here to help you."

The conversation had to pause as Hooves, paying no mind to it, clamped some kind of instrument against the joint in one of the changeling's front legs. Once this was done, the changeling shifted himself to a more comfortable position and said, quietly but firmly, "Liar."

Cadance shook her head. "I'm telling you the truth. We know you need love to survive. I can help you with that."

The changeling narrowed his eyes. "And in return?"

"I don't want anything."

"I know what you're doing. Get away."

"Listen to me!" Cadance said. "I don't know how they did things wherever it is you came from, but here in Equestria, we don't feed prisoners because we want something from them. We feed them because it's the right thing to do."

The changeling seemed to roll his eyes, though it was difficult to tell. "For ponies, maybe. But for us? I was in Canterlot. I saw what happened. You must hate us." He said the last sentence as though commenting on the weather.

Cadance cringed slightly, though the changeling didn't seem to notice. She couldn't deny that some small part of her, some part she didn't want to admit she had, wanted to take out her revenge in the only way she could, on the specimen before her. He was injured and defenseless, though, and he needed her help. To brutalize him when he was in such a state would make her as bad as Queen Chrysalis.

"I promise you, I'm not doing this because I want something from you. Equestria is not doing this because it wants something from you. I will not use this against you. Nobody else will use this against you. If they do, tell them it's against my wishes." She looked across the table at Steady Hooves.

"I'd like to start now. Is he ready?"

Hooves removed the clamp from the changeling's joint and glanced at the attached gauge, ignoring the irritated look he shot her. "He's ready, Your Majesty. I'll let you take it from here." She trotted away from the table, leaving him and Cadance alone with each other. Cadance took a breath.

"I can't promise this will work, but I've come here to give you some food, and I'll do my best." With that, she took a step away from the table, lowered her head, and channeled energy into her horn.

Something was wrong. There was no love flowing. She took a breath and clenched her teeth, then forced even more magical power into her horn, bathing the entire room in a soft, pink glow. She still felt no connection.

She stepped back and looked down at the changeling, who was looking up at her in irritation. She needed another to form the link. But how? Her power created love between two ponies. How could she use it to force anyone to love such a beast?

Cadance shook her head. "It's just not working. I... I'll figure something out as soon as I can. I know you're hungry, but I stand by my word. I won't let you starve, and I'll come back once I know what to do."

The changeling's gaze had turned away from Cadance and was locked firmly ahead, his expression inscrutable. He was either impassive or doing a rather impressive job of acting it. Surely he must have felt something, at the very least disappointment. She took a breath.

"I'm... sorry."

His head twitched her way, but he gave her no further acknowledgement. Briskly, she turned away. She'd done all she reasonably could for now. She'd tried her best to feed him and apologized for her failure. She would have to leave, get some sleep, and then devise a plan to give him what he needed. She was leaving the ward when she saw Clean Bill arrive, towing a cart carrying a covered tin tray. Judging by the anticipation on her face, she'd overheard the conversation.

"Best of luck, Your Majesty. We'll do what we have to in the meantime." She glanced over her shoulder at the tray.

"Thank you, Ms. Bill. Please, ensure he's properly cared for."

Clean Bill gave a brief bow in acknowledgment, and Cadance stepped aside to let her pull the tray in front of the changeling's gurney.

"Your dinner, sir," she said tersely, then lifted the lid off of the tray. Cadance could see three golden-brown, arrowhead-shaped pieces of meat which, from the heads, she could discern were fish. The unappetizing sight was complemented by the off-putting smell of cooked meat, but she didn't let her disgust show as she trotted out of the room. That much would be expected of any who would dine with gryphon dignitaries.

Pincer seethed beneath his uninterested exterior. He'd been expecting these ponies to carry out some cruelty on him in revenge. That pink princess — Chrysalis flay her — held out love to him so closely he could nearly taste it, only to yank it away at the last second. No doubt she'd be laughing about it as soon as he was out of earshot. He would've given anything for the strength and cleverness of his queen just to have the chance to entomb Cadance in the crystal cave again.

"Your dinner, sir."

A tray was lifted, and he was greeted by the rich, savory smell and sight of roasted fish. He had never in his life had cooked fish before. They only ever served it raw at The Hive, and during his infiltrations he had always been disguised as a pony, so he couldn't have bought it without arousing suspicion. Knowing that he would have his first-ever opportunity to eat cooked meat pushed his situation out of his mind for the first time since his capture. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to strain against his bindings to reach it.

"I'm going to adjust your straps now so you can eat. Don't try anything — there's a guard posted outside the door."

So focused was Pincer on the meal before him that the thought of misbehaving had scarcely entered his mind. He couldn't even if he'd wanted to; the tranquilizing spell had not yet entirely worn off. Any plan he tried to put together seemed to float away from his conscious in the early stages and his muscles felt as though they had gelatinized.

The strap over his front legs slid back a bit, but the one over his back legs stayed taut. This left him able to move his front legs enough to grab one of the fish between his hooves and slowly and shakily bring it to his mouth. He bit a modest chunk of it off.

So poor was the quality of his typical meal that the normally unremarkable hospital food proved better than he'd hoped. When the flavor hit his tongue, he considered how quickly he could devour it and still pass it off as his kind's normal eating habits. For a species that didn't eat meat, ponies sure knew how to cook it. He'd eaten pony food before on his infiltration missions, and while he'd enjoyed it, he felt no real hunger for it and his satisfaction wore off as soon as he could no longer taste it. This was different; this was something he hungered for It was filling and satisfying, and quite tasty to boot. It was rich, it was juicy, it was tender, and it was certainly better than the raw kills he unceremoniously snapped up back at the Hive. He realized, and the irony was not lost on him, that this was unarguably the best meal of his life.

Soon he was finished, his tray was towed away, and with the supervision of a royal guard, his straps were tightened again. Once this was done, Bill trotted somewhere to his left, and he heard the sound of running water. As he nervously waited for whatever was next in store for him, Hooves took the time to walk up and speak to him.

"It's going to be lights-out soon. We won't be here overnight, but we'll have a buzzer for you to call the night nurses if you need anything. Tomorrow morning we'll drop by with some books so that you have a way to pass the time. Do you have any preference for reading material?"

Pincer blinked, too surprised to stay angry. "What? I... anything. Anything's fine."

Hooves nodded. "Okay. Now there's one more thing we need to take care of before lights-out. Clean Bill will be giving you a sponge bath."

The sound of running water tapered off, and the mutinous thoughts that dinner had pushed out of his mind returned. "No. Don't touch me. I don't need a bath."

Hooves shook her head. "It's standard procedure. All of our patients get daily baths for sanitation purposes. It won't take more than a few minutes."

"You're not doing this!"

"We will tranquilize you again if it proves necessary."

Pincer grimaced, realizing that in his thrashing and struggling against his sedation, he'd given them that threat to hold over him. Knowing he would have to go through this one way or another, he decided he'd at least prefer to be awake and know what they were doing.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Bill placing a foamy sponge spilling white suds on a nearby table. Before he could react, she and Hooves produced another strap from somewhere nearby and used it to fasten down his head, just behind his horn. He opened his mouth to protest, but Hooves cut him off.

"To make sure you don't try to bite Ms. Bill," she said matter-of-factly before walking away.

As promised, it didn't take long. Bill rubbed him with the sponge briskly and mechanically, as though scrubbing a floor. Whenever she finished with one part of his body, she splashed it with water and rubbed it dry with a second sponge. At one point a pair of pegasus guards came in to release his straps, turn him over, and re-secure him so that Bill could wash his underside. They allowed him enough movement to turn his head to the side when they noticed that lying on his back was bending his fin.

Before he knew it, he'd been turned over again one last time by the guards and the sponge was being carried away. As they were leaving, Clean Bill was setting a buzzer on the table by his gurney, close enough that he could reach it despite his restraints. As she began to leave, she stopped, her hoof hovering over the light switch.

"Good night, sir," she said simply as she flicked the switch, plunging the room into darkness.

Pincer did not fall asleep quickly or easily; for the first time since his capture, he was alone with his thoughts, and there were plenty to keep him occupied. Here he was, having expected nothing but nonstop tortures, hatred, and complete disregard for his wellbeing at the hooves of the ponies. Instead, what had they done? They'd put braces on his legs. They'd fed him. They'd done their best to make sure he was comfortable. An outsider, an insect, one who fed on them. It must have been a trick, though. Surely it was a trick. They wouldn't treat him so well after what happened at Canterlot just because they cared about him. Cadance's failed attempt to feed him proved that much. What were they waiting for, then? When, exactly, would the trap spring?

It was as he was contemplating this that slowly, finally, he drifted off.

Author's Note

Sorry for the delay on this one.