“Do I know you?” The mayor of Fillydelphia scowled at the dark blue unicorn mare, dressed in a frankly ridiculous dress that would only be appropriate if one were the ringleader of a traveling circus or carnival.
“I don’t think you do, Miss Bridle.” The newcomer grinned coyly at the old grey mare. “And you see, that’s the problem, because you should.”
“Guards!” The mayor snapped in annoyance. “Whoever you are, you picked the wrong pony to hurrass! Guards!”
“Guards!” The blue mare shouted even louder, before dropping her voice to a fetching sing-song. “Oh pony mob thugs? Your boss is mortal danger! Let me try yelling again… GUARDS! MURDER! RAPE! FIRE! Huh, I guess nopony cares if those thing happen… in fact one of them already has… four times, just now…”
“Who are you?” The mayor’s pupils dilated in fear.
“Oh, I am no pony important, no pony at all really.” The mare’s laugh was like ice scraping across a blackboard. “But you can call me ‘Madame Alias’, and as I said, you having to ask that very question is where my problems start. But the good news is, it means your problems are almost over. Isn’t that nice?”
“Please! I-I don’t even know what this is all about!” Mayor bridle scrambled backwards.
“Well I WAS going to ask why my faithful little drone, Worker Bee, would go and change the zoning laws in lower Fillydelphia when I very specifically told her we needed that district to remain zoned industrial…” Alias smiled and shook her head in disapproval.
“I-is that all? I can rezone the southern district for you right now!” The panicked mare pleaded, before something clicked. “Y-your drone?”
“Yes, the diligent little changeling I replaced the real Mayor Bridle with years ago. She was such a sweet obedient little bug.” With a flash of cyan flames, Alias assumed the sleek form of a well groomed changeling queen. “Which brings us to our real problem. I know for a fact you’re not Bridle, She’s been fish-watching out in the harbor for years. And I also know your not a changeling, because, well you know, we can tell.”
“Please! I was just city clerk! I took a few bribes!” The pony sobbed uncontrollably. “They told me if I came over here… if I became a specific pony, the human police would never find me! Please, I just wanted to stay out of jail!”
“Was that so hard? Doesn’t it feel good to tell the truth? So dear Doctor Fetlock is still playing her little games?” The changeling sneered. “I can’t imagine Legion will be very happy about this… but then, she’s rarely very happy about anything, to tell you the truth. But don’t worry, I will honor Fetlock’s promise. You will never see a jail cell for the rest of your life.”
Two clown-faced changeling drones stood stoic guard until the screaming stopped and their queen stepped out. “Roustabout, you get to be the new Mayor of Fillydelphia, Roxo, help him clean up the mess and meet me outside. We still have a meeting to attend in Canterlot.”
-=-=-=-=-
General Scorched Earth paced the floor of the sub-basement of the CDC. Nations had fallen, but Trotlanta had survived, evolved, and thrived under his watch. The earth hadn’t lost it’s humanity, it had been taken. The human race would survive, albeit… changed. But they had lost so much. HE had lost so much.
“Each of you are here because we all share a certain… outlook that is not shared by our current government.” The General’s eyes were as uncompromising as his voice and his very soul. “We have all seen the ravages of this plague… of this Pink Sin… and we have all been either it’s victims or it’s slaves. And we have all languished, bitter and helpless that the aliens, the enemy, the PONIES that did this to us, live safe, happy lives. They live in “magical harmony”. They never have to wake up at night screaming at the loss of everything they were. They never have to face the horror of what they did to THEIR loved ones, under the sway of the plague THEY unleashed!”
The general pausd to appraise his troops. To make sure he could see the reflection of his own hate in their eyes. “Because before today, we had no way to get to where they were. And even if we did, we had no hope to ever bring them any kind of retribution for what THEY did to US!”
“Today that changes!” Scorch Earth’s smile was as cold as the fires of hell. “Because THEY reached out to US! They sent a message. And do you know what that message was? Do you think it was, ‘We’re sorry’? Do you think it was, ‘How can we fix what we did to your lives, you’re families, and your whole FUCKING PLANET’?!?! NO!!! They reached out to us and they asked us ‘Do you want to be a pony?’”
“Those mother fuckers…” Scorched Earth didn’t bother to discipline to soldier for the outburst. He approved.
“We have one of our own to thank for this. A changeling, like all of you.” The general leveled his gaze on his men… no soldiers… male and female, but none even remotely human. Not anymore, not thanks to them. “All the teams we’ve lost trying to contact the in the hopes of peace, only for them to open the door to bring us to their very doorstep, only to enslave us for their own perverse needs. You will answer their call. And you will be the tools of our vengeance. They will try to tell you that you can be happy, that you can have a new life, but all I ask is that you remember what they took from you!”
“Some of you will be sent among the beta teams, and some of you will answer the call they have put out. Some of you will doubtlessly arrive in dramatically different times in their history, but our agent on the other side WILL find you. You will know him by his name. Whatever name he gives you, it will be no one.”