Changelings are apparently a cave-dwelling race, so when Queen Cabbage proposed building a new Hive inside Equestria’s borders, the old mines inside Canterlot Mountain were the obvious choice. After all, they were already well dug-out, ready to support Changeling structures, and nopony was using them. There couldn’t be any real objections to the Swarm moving there, right?
Well, some say practical logic has no place in politics.
Cabbage Patch, Trixie, Turnip, and Chrysalis stood before the public entrance to the Council Chambers in Canterlot Castle. The Changelings were all wearing pony disguises: Cabbage was her usual sea-green earth pony self, Turnip looked like a pale purple unicorn with a green mane, and Chrysalis had forgone being creative and simply copied the light-grey coat and darker grey mane of Maggie Pie, albeit with a different cutie mark at Cabbage’s insistence. A few other ponies were standing around in the waiting area as well, but Cabbage paid them no mind as she ran through the speech she’d prepared for the fourth or fifth time.
Don’t worry so much, my Queen, Turnip said through the Hive Mind along with a broadcasted sense of calm.
Cabbage grimaced. So much depends on what I say here, though, she thought. Who knows what a forgotten word or a slip of the tongue could cause!
Yes, Chrysalis thought with a sardonic edge, what a shame if we fail to get permission to move into a played-out mine that hasn’t been used for years and nopony seems to actually own anymore.
“There’s more to it than that,” Cabbage said aloud. “It’s a chance to build good will with the right ponies. If we just move into the caverns and start building a Hive there, most ponies will see it as… just us doing what we’ve always done: taking what we want without asking permission.”
“In other words,” Trixie cut in, having deduced the train of conversation, “we’re here to undo all your hard work, Chryssi.”
Chrysalis gave the azure unicorn a flat look. “Thank you for that oh-so-necessary clarification,” she drawled.
Any further discussion was cut short by the sound of the Council Chamber doors unlocking and being pushed open. A Royal Guard unicorn stood in the doorway and cleared his throat for attention. “The Urban Development Sub-council will convene in ten minutes,” he announced, “but before you take your seats, I need to go over the rules of the meeting for anypony unfamiliar with them. You are expected to respect the authority of the Council members in attendance. Do not speak above a whisper unless you have been invited to address the Sub-council. No photography or magical recording of the proceedings without prior approval. Lastly, a new rule has recently been added: spells have been placed over every entrance to the chamber to suppress and remove Changeling disguises, and any Changeling caught trying to enter in disguise will be barred from entry.”
WHAT?! Shock and anger echoed among the three Changelings in the hall at the announcement. After taking a moment to sort themselves out, Turnip stepped up to voice their collective reaction. “That’s discriminatory and I must protest,” he said. The small crowd paused their own approach to the door and gave Turnip a range of curious looks, and beneath some of the looks the Changelings picked up a faint suspicion. The Guard pony gave Turnip an impassive look marred only very slightly raised eyebrow and the strongest wave of suspicion out of anypony. “The Changeling Hive has been granted a conditional pardon and refugee status by the Princesses,” Turnip pressed on fearlessly, “and so we…” he hesitated for a second, and then decided to just own the slip-up and keep going, “Yes, we have the right to attend public Council meetings and even contribute to the discussions if we want.”
Several ponies gasped at Turnip’s confession of his nature and stepped away from him, but the unicorn Guard just nodded and held his ground. “You’re right,” he said, “but the rule stands: any disguised Changeling caught trying to sneak into the Council Chambers will be removed. If you want to come in, you just need to drop your act.”
No, Cabbage protested to Turnip, I’m going to have a hard enough time speaking to these ponies as it is. I can’t it if I’m wearing just my chitin!
I’d be willing to speak on your behalf, little Queen, Chrysalis said.
No chance, Chrysalis, Turnip cut in sharply. I’ll handle it. He turned his attention back to the guard and, keeping eye contact, discarded his pony form in a rush of green flames. Chrysalis followed suit half a second later, and the nervousness of the small crowd flared up into fear, for even in her reduced state the former Changeling Queen was still unmistakable.
“Oh, give it a rest, mewling grubs,” Chrysalis grumbled at the ponies, “I’m harmless.”
Turnip gave Chrysalis a sidelong glare and addressed the guard again. “The disgraced queen and I have no concerns with meeting your demands, but Queen Patch here,” he pointed to Cabbage with a hoof, “begs an exception. The earth pony form you see is all her own, and she gets terribly anxious without it.”
“No exceptions,” the guard said. Turnip started to protest again, but the guard cut him off with a curt shake of his head. “It’s a council rule established by a unanimous vote; even Princess Celestia can’t grant exceptions to it unilaterally. Your… queen gets rids of the disguise too, or she doesn’t go in.”
Cabbage Patch groaned and looked past the Guard into the council room. The old, familiar fears were starting to roil in her gut, compounded by the worries and suppressed fears of the ponies around her. It would be so easy to run, whether to Princess Luna for help or just back home to crawl into her rag nest and try to block out the rest of the day. But then, she knew, the Sub-council’s vote whether or not to allow the Changeling to build in the old crystal mines would go on with or without her, and if she weren’t there to argue her case…
Remind me to file a formal complaint about this later, she broadcast to the entire Hive Mind. Taking a deep breath to quell her anxiety, Cabbage tapped into her magic and cast away her sea-green pony form. As the green flames finished washing over her and she found herself towering over the Guard pony, she found enough will to hide her distress behind an imitation of Luna’s regal expression. The Guard met her gaze with professional blankness, and then turned to give Trixie a questioning look.
“Please,” Trixie said, rolling her eyes, “as if any Changeling would dare impersonate the Great and Powerful Trixie.” The guard didn’t look impressed, but he just stepped aside out of the group’s way, permitting them inside but keeping an eye on Trixie until she passed over the threshold unaffected.
The Council Chamber was a spacious, rectangular room, almost rivaling the Throne Room in size. Slanted galleries full of plush chairs took up three sides of the room and a long, curved desk on a raised dais occupied the last side. The center of the room was empty except for a small stand that faced the desk. Cabbage considered the image of having to look up from the stand to address ponies sitting at the raised desk, and despair welled up in her.
“You’ll be fine, My Queen,” Turnip said, guiding the group to a set of chairs a couple rows back from the front of the galleries and apart from the other ponies filing into the room. “Just think of it as another performance.”
“Turnip, I haven’t been on the stage in months,” Cabbage said. “And anyway, I do celebrity impressions, not… speechmaking.”
“That’s an easy one,” Trixie said. “Just channel your Princess Celestia routine without, you know, actually changing your voice.”
“We should have just brought more Changelings,” Chrysalis said. “You’re braver when there are lots of us around.”
“That’s true,” Cabbage admitted, but with hesitance as she felt the unpleasant glances of everypony filing into the room sweeping over her little group. “But the three of us are causing enough of a stir as it is.”
A door behind the long desk opened and five ponies in important-looking outfits entered and took seats at the desk. The pony who took the centermost, and apparently most important, seat was a grey unicorn stallion with blue eyes, a green shirt with a stiff collar, and a pair of tiny glasses balanced on his nose. He surveyed the audience with a bored expression until he laid eyes on the Changelings. His lip curled, his brow furrowed, and he glanced quickly away to hold a whispered conversation with the pony to his left.
“He wears his emotions on his sleeve,” Chrysalis noted with amusement. “How refreshing to see that in a politician pony.”
“He seems familiar,” Cabbage said.
“Jet Set,” Trixie responded. “He considered the troupe as entertainment for a garden party a few years ago, but decided Barnacle’s tales weren’t quite ‘vogue’ enough for him.”
“Oh. Great,” Cabbage grumbled.
“I highly doubt he’ll connect you to that,” Trixie said, giving Cabbage a sideways look.
“I know,” Cabbage snapped. “I’m a bit more worried about the utter contempt he’s radiating our way right now.”
Trixie slumped in her seat a little. “Ah.”
Jet Set finished his conversation, produced a gavel from behind the desk, and tapped it on the desk a couple of times, silencing the murmuring from the gallery. “This meeting will come to order,” he announced. “Now,” he continued, setting the gavel down and giving the Changelings a flat look, “given the presence of certain… individuals in the audience, the Council has decided on a last-second change to the schedule, to avoid ignoring the elephant in the room.”
He just wants us to leave as quickly as possible, Chrysalis thought at Cabbage.
Fine by me, Cabbage replied.
Jet Set picked up a sheet of paper and consulted it. “We will now consider a petition by the Changeling Hive permission to occupy the old crystal mines below the city and… develop them into a residential area.” He looked from the paper to Cabbage. “Will a representative of the petitioners be taking part in the discussion?” he asked.
Cabbage started to stand, only to find her front legs quivering with stage fright. She sat down, took a few deep breaths, and tried again, only for her rear legs to lock up. I don’t know if I can get this under control, she thought at Turnip.
Turnip nodded with sympathy and stood up. Chrysalis also came to her feet, practically at the same time, and both Changelings said, in sync, “I’ll speak for us.” They leveled icy glares at each other over Cabbage’s drooping head, and the Hive Mind fell momentarily silent as their wills pressed hard against each other.
“Is there a problem?” Jet Set asked, barely concealing a smug smile. Turnip and Chrysalis ignored him as they continued glaring at each other, lips starting to curl up to expose more of their fangs.
Enough, you two! Cabbage shouted into the Hive Mind, expanding her will to overshadow Turnip and Chrysalis’s and make them stop their power struggle. As the Changeling Queen, Cabbage had the power and the right to bend other Changelings to her will, to direct the Hive as a whole and maintain order, but she could rarely bring herself to do so. Shame on you both, she snapped at Turnip and Chrysalis. This is not the time to fight. We need to show a united front. Turnip, speak for us, please. Chrysalis, sit down and just let Turnip know if you have something you want to add. She released the pair and glared at Chrysalis out of the corner of her eye until the former Queen sat back down.
Turnip spread his wings and flew the short distance from his seat to the stand in the middle of the chamber. Once he was settled, he looked up at Jet Set and said, “I am Turnip, Lorekeeper of the Changeling Hive. I speak on behalf of our Queen and the Hive.”
“I see,” Jet Set said, slowly. “Well, you can start by telling us why you want those old caverns. As I understand, the Changelings already have a perfectly serviceable… hive out in the Badlands. Given recent events, I hardly think you’re starved for space.”
Turnip’s temper flared slightly across the Hive Mind, but he kept his face from showing it. “Those events are what prompted this move, sir,” he said, evenly. “Practically speaking, there aren’t enough Changelings left for the long journey between the old Hive and Equestria to be feasible; we’d all be flying back and forth all the time and have nopony left for… housekeeping, as it were. Queen Patch also wants us to live within Equestria’s borders as part of her policy of open and transparent love harves- er, relationships with ponies.”
Nice slip of the tongue there, Turnip, Chrysalis broadcast with sardonic glee. Cabbage face-hoofed.
The ponies of the Council were exchanging concerned looks and feelings of confirmation, and when Jet Set spoke again, his voice was full of disdain. “So,” he said, “you think to move in right under the hooves of our Princesses, deep in caves most ponies weren’t even aware of until a few years ago? How is that being ‘transparent’?”
“Well…” Turnip answered, casting out for help.
An idea came to Cabbage’s mind. She worked it over quickly and, finding it satisfactory, broadcast it to Turnip. Use that, she instructed.
Turnip nodded slightly. “First of all,” he said, “so far as we can tell, nopony has an actual claim to the old mines and they’re certainly not being used, so we could have just moved in without saying a word. However, here I am, making a public request for permission to proceed. The Changelings’ use of the caves will be a matter of public record. Second, our plans are to start building near the entrance to the mines and eventually spread deeper from there, so we wouldn’t be hard to find.”
Surprise rippled through the chamber from both the Council and the audience. Jet Set seemed to be at a loss for words, but one of the other council-ponies spoke up. “He makes a good point; if we allow this, everypony will know where the Changelings can be found.” Two other council-ponies nodded.
Jet Set frowned as he looked at his fellows at the desk. “I see,” he sighed. “It seems the sub-council is ready to vote?” Nods and noises of assent came from the others. “Those in favor-”
“Just one moment!” A white unicorn stallion with a short, styled yellow mane and wearing a foppish cravat stood up from his seat on the opposite side of the chamber from Cabbage.
Cabbage felt a sense of relief creep into Jet Set’s emotions as he turned to address the interruption. “Did you have something to add, Prince Blueblood?” he asked.
“I most certainly do,” Blueblood declared, stepping out onto the floor. “I must protest: this bug’s claim that the crystal mines are unowned is patently false! They are part of the traditional holdings of Equestria’s leading founder, Princess Platinum.”
“So, what?” Chrysalis asked loudly from her seat.
Blueblood turned to give the disgraced Queen a sneer. “My family is the current head of Platinum’s line,” he said, “which means those mines are… mine.” His lip curled slightly in distaste at his unintentional wordplay.
Chrysalis surged to her hooves, her patchy mane bristling. “You’re making that up!” she exclaimed.
“That’s enough, Chrysalis!” Cabbage snapped, physically pushing Chrysalis’ rump back into her chair. A murmur swept through the ponies in the chamber.
“Ahem,” Jet Set said, pounding his gavel a couple times. The room calmed, outwardly at least. “Setting aside her lack of decorum, the… other companion of the Changeling Queen does raise a valid point. Do you, Prince Blueblood, have proof of ownership for the old crystal mines?”
Blueblood huffed. “Well, not on my person at this precise moment, but…”
Jet Set sighed. “I had hoped to make a decision on this today,” he said, “but clearly we’ll need to table this issue for now. I’d advise the Changeling Hive to consult with Prince Blueblood so that we can have all the facts by next week’s meeting. Next item of business?”
“Well that was an utter waste of time,” Trixie declared as she, Chrysalis, Turnip, and Cabbage exited the Council Chamber.
“Hardly,” Turnip argued. “I’m fairly certain if we hadn’t been there, that Blueblood fop would have just leaned on the Council to deny our request outright.”
“It was a near thing anyway,” Cabbage said. “I’m sorry I was so rough with you, Chrysalis. Your outbursts bought us time.”
Chrysalis lifted her head and shot Turnip a smug look. “Why, thank you, Cabbage!” she said.
“Don’t let it go to your head now,” Turnip grumbled. Chrysalis narrowed her eyes and bared her fangs at him.
“Cut it out, both of you,” Cabbage said. “Let’s just get back to the theater and start focusing on Changeling of the Opera.” After a second, she added, “and we should at least try to convince Blueblood to talk to us, I guess.”