//------------------------------//
// Changed 
// Story: A Shift In Gears 
// by BlackRoseRaven 
//------------------------------//

Chapter Three: Changed

When Octavia was summoned before Princess Celestia to give her report on her progress, she was very pleased to announce that not only had their research yielded many interesting finds about the Changelings' habits and culture, her personal projects had been highly successful as well.
It had taken Moonbeam quite a bit of time to adjust to the initial prosthetic limbs: Octavia had recalibrated and modified them several times, but ultimately it had been about making Moonbeam use them and working through the pain with her so that her body could adjust.
Octavia had gotten to know Moonbeam fairly well: she was from a particular caste of Changelings that acted as the advanced scouts into a civilization, taking on not only the appearance, but the personality and even emotional memories of a captured victim. It resulted in more than just a mimicking of a pony, but rather, the Changelings took on an identity of their own, which allowed them to better infiltrate.
It also seemed like it was reflexive for Moonbeam to try and hide her form: after a few days of recovery, they had found her in the shape of a lapis-colored unicorn mare with a purple mane, smooth and pretty... apart from the metal legs, that was. She had been crying, Octavia had thought: it turned out it was because she couldn't hide her metal legs, or her crystalline eye.
Octavia had promised the Type II legs she was building would be much better: easier for Moonbeam to move around in, more like real limbs. Moonbeam, understandably, hadn't really been soothed by this, so Octavia had left her alone for a while, then come back later with some simple leggings that would cover most of the artificial limbs, and a lens for her eye. Moonbeam didn't really like the leggings much, but the lens made her eye go from a brightly-glowing crystal to something that looked almost as natural as the other ruby iris.
Moonbeam had spent a while studying herself in the little mirror on the apartment wall: Octavia remembered this well, because she thought it was also when Moonbeam had started to actually trust her a little. Well, that, and Moonbeam had smiled: a pretty smile, an honest smile.
As Moonbeam had opened up to her, she had not only been able to get more information from the Changeling, she had also been able to push her harder, gotten her to do more. And as Moonbeam had actually adjusted to the limbs, she had become more confident and less suspicious that she was being experimented on... well, in a negative light, Octavia reflected. Moonbeam was certainly the subject of some very interesting research and experiments, after all.
Once they had been able to trust Moonbeam more and she had satisfied not just Octavia, but Square Hammer's extensive list of requirements, they had removed the simple prostheses and installed the Type II limbs. Whereas her initial prostheses had only been for basic movement and to give her more of a sense of autonomy, these new artificial legs were designed with both maneuverability and strength in mind. They would be stronger, more durable, and more capable than even her original limbs had ever been, although they would also require some getting used to on Moonbeam's part, and adjustments and recalibrations from both Square Hammer and Octavia to find the perfect range of movement and ability.
Octavia was very pleased with the progress they had made. Moonbeam was docile and quiet and well-behaved: a little cabin-feverish, she thought, and she talked a lot about 'when' she was going home to the Hive, as if it was a given, but overall Octavia was able to treat her like any of her former clients or patients and trust that she would cooperate.
Moonbeam did seem to understand it wasn't in her best interests to try and deceive or manipulate them, and between the rigorous testing that both Square Hammer and Octavia were doing on her, she was left too tired to try and stand up very much to them anyway. Octavia had relaxed a little around the Changeling, although Square Hammer was as paranoid as ever... although Octavia thought his 'concern' was partly an excuse so he could continue to treat Moonbeam less kindly than she deserved.
Octavia was pleased to have the honor of presenting all their findings to Princess Celestia, although she was slightly put-off when Princess Celestia moved the line of questioning from her work with Moonbeam's prostheses to asking her about her relationship with the Changeling. Octavia had reassured the Princess several times that Moonbeam was only a research subject, and she was not allowing the Changeling to compromise her in any way, but the Princess had only given her a cryptic smile and told her gently that wasn't her concern at all.
The meeting had gone well otherwise, and Octavia returned to Square Hammer's lab, pleased that she would be able to tell him she had been given the go-ahead to move Moonbeam to her own home. Vinyl was still very unsure about the whole thing, but Octavia was sure that Moonbeam would remain compliant and easy to get along with. Of course, even if she did try something, then Octavia could trigger the emergency shutdown on the nerve core that allowed Moonbeam to move, and there was also a built-in tracking device that would easily allow Octavia to catch her if she tried to run away.
Octavia entered Square Hammer's home and headed to the elevator, deciding she would give Moonbeam a bit more time to herself while she talked things over with Square Hammer. He was going to offer his facilities to some of the other members of the Luciferin to assist in finishing their research on the Changelings, but considering the volume of information they had already assembled about the creatures, Octavia didn't think there was much left to learn about them.
She hummed a little as the elevator descended: it would be good to finally go home. She didn't want to think about what Vinyl had done to the house while she was gone. She only hoped that the unicorn wasn't going to spend too much time glaring at Moonbeam, although Octavia was grateful for the fact that her friend seemed much more concerned about losing the spare room than she did about the fact that Moonbeam was a Changeling.
But that, she supposed, was what normal ponies were like; what ponies were supposed to be like. She envied it a little, how Vinyl was able to look past what Moonbeam was: Octavia wondered if she would have been able to do that herself, even if her studies hadn't been specifically on how Changelings were different from ponies, what variances they had.
Still, looking past the insect qualities of Moonbeam, she was very pony-like. Cloaking herself in the unicorn's shape probably helped, just like hiding the prosthetic limbs always helped her patients fit back into society. As the elevator came to a stop, she idly played with the idea of creating some kind of covering for Moonbeam's legs if she continued to behave herself: it would take some time and creativity, but it was far from impossible.
Octavia strode across the laboratory, and found Square Hammer hovering over some research. He glanced up as she approached, the mare greeting: “I have good news from-”
“It can wait.” Square Hammer said irritably, and Octavia frowned before the stallion sniffed disdainfully, then he pointed to one of the crystal screens mounted on the wall, the gray mare looking up before she did a double-take at the image on the screen.
“How?” Octavia asked disbelievingly, as she stared at the empty apartment Moonbeam had been in. She checked the timestamp to make sure it wasn't just a still image from some previous day, but no, the date and time were correct. So unless... “No, this has to be some silly practical joke-”
“Yes, because I am very much the joking type.” Square Hammer said, voice dripping with condescension. “She fooled the sensor somehow and simply walked out. She tripped a silent alarm, but I thought this would be a good lesson for you, Melody.”
“What?” Octavia asked, dumbfounded, and Square Hammer snorted and scowled at her.
“Isn't it obvious? This is precisely what I was warning you about.” growled Square Hammer. “These Changelings, whatever else they may be, are a race of predators designed specifically to mimic, to infiltrate, to manipulate. They feed off emotions because they are nothing but mindless, emotionless drones, a mere step above automaton! They serve their Queen to the death and it was stupid, moronic of you to miss the obvious, Melody! Every day, that creature spoke of returning to the Hive, and now it has, walking away on the four metal legs you gave it!”
“Why didn't you stop her?” Octavia shouted, snarling, but all the anger in the world couldn't hide the humiliation in her cheeks as she whirled towards where she had set up her own terminal on the far side of the lab.
She hammered across the control system, bringing up a screen that showed Moonbeam's vital signs and approximate location. It shocked her to realize how far she had already gotten: she must have left right after Octavia had gone to the palace. The earth pony gritted her teeth as Square Hammer snorted behind her, saying contemptibly: “You were played. Now that Changeling has returned to its hive, and taken with it several extremely valuable pieces of technology. And it is your bleeding heart's fault.”
Octavia ignored Square Hammer as she punched in a command, before she began to stomp down on the key to enter it, but then she stopped. Even as angry as she was, wouldn't shutting down Moonbeam's limbs be counterproductive? The Changeling was out there, alone, possibly traveling through a hostile environment to return to her hive; if Octavia shut down those limbs now, then Moonbeam would be stranded, unable to defend herself...
God, she was angry.
Was she angry enough to leave her patient open to suffering, death... possibly worse?
Her hoof hovered over the button and she ground her teeth together in frustration before Square Hammer said snidely: “At least now I see that it was for the best you left the Luciferin, Melody. You don't have the scientific mind required to separate your emotions from the task at hoof. Otherwise you wouldn't hesitate in hitting that button.”
“I am hesitating precisely because I can separate my emotions from logic, Square Hammer.” Octavia retorted, before she took a slow breath, then deleted the command, focusing on the screen, mentally paging through her other options. “I have her coordinates and I can monitor her through her cybernetic augmentations. If the Changelings are truly a magically-based, insect-like society, they won't be able to reverse engineer or even analyze this technology. No, this is advantageous.”
Square Hammer scowled as Octavia hammered strings of commands over the console, before she sat back with a grim smile as the console's screen fizzled before a grainy image appeared on it: thanks to the distance, it skipped and jumped, but essentially it allowed them to see what Moonbeam was seeing as she made her way across barren tundra, various statistics flickering across the screen. And, faintly, riddled by distortions but still there, they could hear the sound of the world around her, thanks to the communicator Octavia had built into one leg on a whim. After all, these prosthetic limbs had been meant for more than civilian use, so why not test the possible combinations of technology she could include?
The earth pony was very glad she had now. They could monitor Moonbeam this way: even communicate with her, if the chance arose.
But for the moment, Octavia simply pushed herself back, taking a slow breath before she turned her cold eyes towards Square Hammer, who was now ignoring her as he studied the screen and muttered: “Perhaps this will provide an interesting research opportunity after all...”
“I think you should excuse yourself, Square Hammer. You have your projects, and I have mine. Rest assured, once I've settled on a course of action, I will inform you and keep you updated.” Octavia said as civilly as possible, but her glare made it clear what she was really saying.
Square Hammer's lip curled in contempt before he snapped back: “You are in my home, using my technology, and-”
“And without me, this technology is useless and you have no access to Moonbeam.” Octavia cut him off, meeting his eyes evenly. “By all means, though, I am very happy to relocate if you continue to insist. I'm sure some of the other Luciferin will be more than happy to allow me to use their equipment in return for research access.”
Square Hammer growled in irritation, and then he gave a short, grudging nod. He opened his mouth, but Octavia reached out and quickly covered his muzzle, saying shortly: “I do not believe there is any further need to discuss things.”
The unicorn glared at her, then firmly removed her hoof with telekinesis before he huffed and turned away, storming off and grumbling: “Then ensure that you keep me updated, Melody. I will be looking forward to your first report.”
Octavia decided to ignore the implication that she worked for him, and instead turned her eyes back to the screen. She sighed as she sat back and settled in, shaking her head slowly as she rubbed silently at her forehead, trying to remain impassive, impartial, and look at this as an opportunity, but even she couldn't pretend that wasn't a strange sensation of betrayal roiling in her guts.
How stupid she had been, to think a Changeling might actually be a person.

Moonbeam nervously made her way down the rocky incline to the approach to the Hive: it didn't look like much more than a jumble of rocks from a distance, but the closer you drew to it, the clearer it became that the shapes were too regular, that something had put these pillars and columns and sharp stones together in a way that had some kind of rational purpose behind it.
The purpose was simple: hollow guard towers that Changelings could defend the Hive from, sharp rocks lodged in sinking sand to prevent ground invaders from trespassing, and shale layered over the roof of the hive so that anything that landed on it would either cut their feet or be unable to find a grip. Moonbeam didn't think it was right to say the Changelings were a warlike people, but by nature, they were invaders, interlopers: they had to be prepared in the event that their invasions went wrong, and their former prey decided to take revenge.
It had happened in the past. And again, of course, only recently.
Moonbeam shivered a little as she continued towards the great, ugly dome of the Hive. Her eyes nervously roved up to the sky as she saw a Changeling squadron pass by: drones, she wondered, or soldiers? She wondered if they saw her or recognized her... but then why hadn't anyone been sent out to meet her? Did that mean the Hive was being locked down?
She sighed a little as she continued down the path. It hurt a little to do this. She really liked Octavia, even if she was aware that Octavia had mainly been using her for research. She wasn't stupid, after all, and just like Square Hammer had always said, her race was a race built on deception. It made them very hard to deceive.
Still, there had been a lingering hope there that maybe Octavia actually cared about her, but... what did it matter now? She had betrayed her. Stolen these artificial legs and escaped back to the Hive.
Why was she even doing this?
Because she was a Changeling, because she had a duty to the Hive, because there was a little voice in her head encouraging her to go home and report everything she had learned to Queen Chrysalis. Maybe she would even get a day off, or a promotion! Scout, first class!
How would that be any different from the caste she had already been born into, though?
Moonbeam sighed and lowered her head, but then blinked and looked quickly up as she saw something move. She stopped, then concentrated for a moment, sending out a short pulse of Changeling magic: this was greeted by a pair of relieved-feeling thrums from her fellow Changelings, and she smiled as she hurried forward, the leggings around her mechanical limbs swishing over her legs, traveling poncho rustling against her back-
A thief and a liar. That was all a Changeling was.
Moonbeam shivered a little, but threw the thoughts off as she approached an open cavern, where two Changeling soldiers had appeared at the maw leading inside, waiting for her. They both frowned as she drew close, one of them cocking his head before he asked: “Who are you?”
“Moonbeam.” she answered, before she could stop herself. Both soldiers scowled at her immediately, one of them nervously squeezing the spear back against his shoulder, and Moonbeam blushed and shook her head violently before she let her transformation drop, revealing her actual features. She wasn't a unicorn. She wasn't Moonbeam. She was... “Scout, Green 9.”
“We heard that you'd been captured, along with quite a few others. Did you see any of them? Blue 15, Red 3, Green 7...” The Changeling soldier broke off as Moonbeam shook her head.
“No, I was held alone in a facility by two ponies. They were experimenting on me. I heard they were researching the others, too...” Moonbeam said, before she uncomfortably flinched when one of the soldiers frowned and poked her mechanical leg.
He looked at her, and she hesitantly rose the prosthetic, letting the sleeve of the legging draw back to reveal the steel limb. The other soldier whistled as the first one stared, then asked disbelievingly: “What did they do to you?”
Moonbeam only shook her head and lowered her leg, saying after a moment: “I should really wait to discuss that with an adviser...”
“Oh, uh, of course, right.” The soldier nodded, but then his companion cleared his throat loudly, and the soldier winced before he sighed and added reluctantly: “But well, you know that we're in a state of emergency here. Queen Chrysalis is injured and we're worried that the Equestrians might try and attack or destroy the Hive, and they might be able to do it if they bring that magic here.”
“We need to make sure that no one gets in the Hive who isn't supposed to. Queen Chrysalis is worried they might send a Changeling back with a bug, or they might even convince some of the Changelings to work with them... I hear there are already pony sympathizers in the Hive, as a matter of fact.”
Moonbeam cocked her head at this, and the other soldier hesitated before he couldn't help himself from gossiping: “Well, you know, ponies seem like they're willing enough to share love with anyone who asks, right? So I think some Changelings have been asking why we don't just, you know, try passive harvesting for once.”
“Yeah, I mean. They're basically overflowing with love.” the first soldier added reasonably, before he winced at the stares he got from Moonbeam and the other guard. “Uh. Not that I agree. Just saying.”
“Right.” the other soldier said slowly, before he shook his head and sighed. “Anyway. We need to ensure the loyalty of every Changeling who comes through here, and that they haven't become too pony-like. I see you've been through a lot, though, Green 9.”
“You can just call me Moonbeam if you want.” Moonbeam suggested, and both drones stared at her, the Changeling blushing a bit before she shrugged and said finally: “I mean, it's easier than Green 9.”
“How?” asked the soldier, and Moonbeam didn't really have an answer for that, before he added: “Why are you using a female name, anyway? I mean, were you assigned a mare?”
“Yes.” Moonbeam lied, her entire face scrunching up and her eyes widening.
Both Changeling soldiers looked at her critically, and Moonbeam blushed as she shrugged awkwardly and looked away, mumbling: “Well, there are more mares in Equestria than stallions, you know. It was easier to infiltrate with a mare, so I copied a mare. And... I mean... it's... better.”
There was an awkward silence for a few moments, before one of the Changelings suddenly brightened and said knowingly: “I get it! You want to be like Chrysalis! I dream of being more than just a soldier sometimes too, you know...”
“No, I don't want that.” Moonbeam blurted out, even knowing she really should stop talking.
The Changelings looked at her with confusion, before one of the soldiers prompted: “Well, what do you want, then?”
Moonbeam answered before she could stop herself: “Pretty.”
The Changelings stared at her.
“I just... like being pretty.” Shut up Moonbeam shut up shut up shut up.
“Pretty.”
“Pretty!” she blurted defensively.
“You're weird.” one of the Changelings said bluntly, then he winced as his companion elbowed him, huffing a bit before he added with a frown: “And hey. How did you escape, again? I mean, it's not like the ponies would just let you go. Especially with... uh...”
They all looked for a moment at Moonbeam's mechanical legs, and the other soldier asked nervously: “What kind of magic is that, anyway? I've never seen anything like it. How is it working? Is there a pony somewhere powering it?”
The other Changeling scowled at this, then he leaned forwards suspiciously, asking: “Are you powering it yourself? Why did they replace your legs, did they replace other things?”
Moonbeam winced, then she shook her head and explained hurriedly: “No, no! They're powered by batteries. Magic crystals. Um... I don't know how to explain it. I just know that it works. They helped me.”
“The ponies helped you.” one of the soldiers said, and Moonbeam reflected that probably wasn't the best thing she could have said. But all the same, she decided to press on.
“Yes, they helped me. A building fell on me, so they made these prostheses for me. I know they were just trying to get information out of me-”
“How much did you tell them?” asked the other Changeling, looking a little alarmed now, but Moonbeam only shook her head defiantly.
“No, I didn't tell them anything!” she said, exasperated, but then she bit her lip, and when both soldiers looked at her accusingly, she confessed: “Well, alright, I told them a few things, but... only because they knew a lot about us already. A lot of Changelings were captured and interrogated... you knew that already, though.”
“Well, yes, but I mean, that's no reason to just give up and talk.” huffed one of the soldiers awkwardly, although the other only shrugged lamely; Moonbeam couldn't blame them, though. They were just doing what they had been told, repeating what they had been ordered to. “Look, you have to admit this doesn't look good.”
Moonbeam tilted her head, looking blankly at the soldier, and he rattled off: “Using a pony name, those magical legs, the fact you just 'walked out' of where you were being held, the fact you told them-”
“I didn't tell them anything useful, though! They already knew where the Hive was, and-”
“They know where our Hive is? So they might be coming here after all!” blurted the other soldier, alarmed, and Moonbeam dropped her face in a metal hoof with a sigh.
“No, they're not... like us, they don't really invade or attack. They're...” Moonbeam struggled to find a word to describe them, but all she could say was: “Ponies.”
“Ponies.”
“Ponies!” Moonbeam stopped, then sighed, changing the subject before this could become a repeat of their previous conversation. “I have a lot of information. I learned all kinds of things about them: I can tell you all about these machines and how the ponies are organized and their food and clothes and culture and language...”
The soldiers looked at her dubiously, and Moonbeam shook her head, saying quickly: “They're really trusting, they're not good at being manipulative, and I... uh... I worked really hard. I got a lot of love and emotions and learned how to manipulate some of their technology and about... music...”
Moonbeam faded for a moment, and one of the Changelings frowned as the other soldier almost flinched, before he asked: “What was that?”
“Huh?” Moonbeam glanced up in surprise, and the soldiers shifted nervously. The mare shifted herself, then frowned in surprise at the shift she felt from both soldiers: they were... defensive? “What? What's wrong?”
“You.” one of them said plainly, even as the other winced.
Moonbeam stared, feeling like she'd been punched in the gut as she mouthed wordlessly, before she blurted out: “What? But I came back, I told you-”
“We felt those emotions. You're... you're not like us. You're like a pony. Names and... wanting things and talking about music and technology... what are those things? What do they have to do with anything?”
“Look, Green 9-”
“Moonbeam!” Moonbeam snapped, and then she flushed and covered her lips, her eyes going wide before she trembled and lowered her head a bit.
“Moonbeam.” The Changeling was almost gentle, and she hated the pity in his eyes. “Look. I've heard all about this. You became too much like them. I don't know, maybe you were overexposed to their emotions, that happens sometimes, or maybe because you got hurt, your brain got all confused and forgot what you were supposed to be. I don't know, I'm just a soldier, not a doctor.”
The drone shrugged, then he said finally: “Look, we uh... you know the rules. You can't come into the Hive again. You have to leave. Unless you want to be clipped.”
He grimaced, and Moonbeam shivered instinctively: no, no she didn't want that. Clipped Changelings lost their wings and their horns: they spent the rest of their lives muddling around the underbelly of the Hive, nothing but slaves.
She nervously took a step back, and the other soldier frowned before he said slowly: “But he might be a spy. We should...”
“Hey, Chrysalis said drive off any spies, not drag them down for clipping.” said the other soldier pointedly, before he added: “Exile's better. I don't know about you, but... I think exile's better. Now get out of here before someone else shows up, or we won't have a choice in the matter anymore.”
Moonbeam wanted to argue. To beg, to plead, to fight: to come up with some reason, any reason, she should be allowed in. But she was...
She was supposed to be a drone, with no name, no function except that given to her by the Hive, only a minimum of personality. Instead, she was... she was she, Moonbeam, who liked reading and music and the sound of Octavia's voice and sleeping in nice beds and thinking for herself...
God, when had she developed a self?
Moonbeam fled from the Hive: she stumbled her way back around the barriers and the traps, hurrying back out of Changeling territory as fast as she could go. Suddenly, it all made sense: this was why the voice of the Hive was still just a whisper in her mind, why it was no longer calling her, instructing her, only a tenuous memory.
What had happened? Had she spent too long around ponies? Had she experienced too many of their emotions at once? The other scouts had been fine: when the time had come to do her duty and capture prey, she had been happy to capture that one pony who had lived next door who had always played obnoxious music in the middle of the night...
That sounded pathetic. That sounded like she had been planning to do it as an excuse from the very start.
So what if she didn't want to hurt any of the ponies? She was a scout! And a few Changelings could easily feed passively on a population of ponies, taking a nibble here, a bit of emotion there, and it wasn't like they weren't used to going long periods of time between eating anyway...
Moonbeam winced as she tripped, her eyes widening as she fell face-first towards a sharpened rock, and she did the only thing she could, flinging out a hoof to catch herself even though she knew it meant-
Her metal hoof slammed down through the spike, crushing it to gravel, and Moonbeam stared for a few moments at what she had done before she trembled and slowly rose her hoof. She studied it silently, tilting it back and forth as she mouthed wordlessly at her own strength: the ponies had given her this. Some of the things they had done to her had been cruel, but no one could pretend some of the things they had done hadn't been kind.
She took a shuddering breath as she straightened slowly, lowering her head. But so what if they had given her these metal limbs? She wasn't stupid. She had snuck a look at some of their files, noticed the 'model' of a Changeling leg more than once when she had been taken down to the labs for more stress testing. The ponies had done this to her. They had made her a monster!
She wished she could believe that. It would make hating them so much easier. Maybe enough that she could hate what she'd become, and she could go back to the Hive and tell them how much she hated the ponies and how much she wanted revenge on them and they would accept her again...
No, that ship had sailed. She wasn't a Changeling anymore. And she didn't believe she was a pony, either... she didn't really know what she was. Something caught between, something that had tried for so long to hold the shape it had been molded into, it had been permanently altered by it; something that had tried so hard to believe its own lies that they had started to become the truth.
Moonbeam stumbled out onto barren tundra, staring in the direction of Equestria, the country, the pony-world she had just fled from. To her back was the Changeling Hive, where she had come from, but where she no longer belonged. She stood in the empty space between two worlds, wondering where she could even go, what she could even hope to do as she tried to swallow the sobs that wanted to rise up out of her throat...
A Changeling, crying, because it was sad.
That wasn't how it worked. That wasn't supposed to happen.
What was she?
Moonbeam clenched her eyes shut, and wished with all her heart that there could be some kind of sign, that something, anything, would show her what to do. She'd never had to make any kind of decision on her own before: all she had to do was follow orders and then pretend to do all the things normal ponies did, but what would a pony do in this situation?
Moonbeam bit her lip, whispering: “I just wish I belonged somewhere... I just want to go home...”
Home; what did that word even mean? The Hive was home but it had never been home, not in the sense that these ponies used the word. Maybe that had been the flaw all along: being part of the pony's world had made her so happy that she had forgotten to compartmentalize, she had forgotten that those emotions weren't really her own.
She had really screwed it all up, hadn't she? If she hadn't run away like an idiot, maybe they would have at least allowed her to stay somewhere in Equestria. But no, she had run away, taking these mechanical limbs with her, betraying Octavia's trust in her. Now the Hive had rejected her and she was stuck out here, alone, miserable, trapped, useless-
“Moonbeam?”
Moonbeam flinched in surprise, looking wildly back and forth as she wiped sporadically at her teary features. Without even realizing it, she reassumed the form of a unicorn, asking anxiously: “Octavia? Is that... are you there?”
“No, Moonbeam. I'm communicating with you through a relay in the... look, that's not important right now.” Octavia's tone became more businesslike, but Moonbeam thought she could hear the faintest hint of concern in her voice as she said: “If you're quite done with this silliness, I would like you to come to Ponyville. I assume you're familiar enough with Equestrian territory to find your way there on your own, aren't you?”
“I... yes, yes...” Moonbeam sat back in confusion, blinking a few times before she asked anxiously: “But wait, what about-”
“There will be time to discuss that later, Moonbeam. For now, I will consider this you merely exercising your newfound freedom on a short jaunt around the neighborhood, but I expect to see you home soon, Moonbeam. I'm sure once you're in Ponyville you'll have little trouble finding your way to my home, as long as you were honest about your capabilities as a scout.”
“Yes, it won't be a problem. I can lock on to your emotional resonance.” Moonbeam trembled a bit, then she smiled faintly as she rubbed quietly at her face before whispering: “Thank you.”
“I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.”
“I... I'll be there soon, Octavia. And I'm sorry-”
“Then it's settled. I'll be waiting for you in Ponyville, Moonbeam. Please don't be tardy.”
Octavia closed communications; not that Moonbeam would be able to tell, but it made her feel better, anyway, and more in control of the situation. Well, that and the fact she could still monitor what Moonbeam was doing and her rough heading from the console, the earth pony studying the screen for a few moments before Square Hammer said distastefully: “Your ridiculous fake accent becomes even more exaggerated when you're upset, Melody.”
“Just because you worked so hard to get rid of yours, Square Hammer, it doesn't mean that the rest of us aren't proud of our heritage. No matter where we might come from.” Octavia retorted, glowering over at Square Hammer. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to make preparations to return to Ponyville. I'll send for what's necessary later in the week, Square Hammer. Do try not to break any of my things.”
“Melody!” Square Hammer barked as the gray mare began to walk away, and she stopped and glared over her shoulder at him. But then she frowned, turning towards him as the stallion shifted awkwardly on his hooves before he gave the briefest of nods to her, saying grudgingly: “As obnoxious and irritating as you are, your mind was a benefit to the Luciferin when it was not filled with emotions and prattle. Be careful of the Changeling. They are predators and we still do not fully understand the effect that their feeding can have on ponies in the long term, let alone what they are truly capable of.”
“I appreciate your almost-concern, Square Hammer, but I will be fine. I am not afraid of Moonbeam, nor of what she may do.” She was silent for a moment, then said abruptly: “Thank you for the use of your facilities, including your own mental aptitudes, Square Hammer. You were a benefit to the cause.”
Square Hammer gave a thin smile, but it was a smile all the same, and Octavia bowed briefly to him before she turned and headed to the elevator. As frustrating as Square Hammer could be, she understood him better than most: it wasn't like they were entirely different, after all. When she was deep in the puzzles and research, she could be just as cold...
She sighed a little as she made her way to her room to gather her few belongings: it didn't take long. She didn't keep many personal things: a few nice dress collars and bows, some simple cufflinks, a few pictures in frames. Octavia lingered for a moment in the spare room, silently studying the portrait of her: but with a press of her hoof against the crystal-coated frame, the simple portrait was brushed away, and in its place was a picture of a little gray filly with a bright smile on her face, holding up the simple prosthetic that had won her first prize in the science fair, her parents on either side of her...
How unfair that had been to the other children, she thought with a wry smile. She had already been taking college-level calculus and they were all still learning the multiplication tables. Child of two geniuses, tutored by the very best, groomed to exceed...
But she had still been a little filly, and winning first prize in the science fair that had mostly been volcanoes had felt like the apex of all achievements, especially with Mommy and Daddy there to see it. To see how good she was. To watch her prove herself.
She sighed a little, then wiped her hoof over the glass to turn it back to a portrait before tucking it away in her satchel bag. The gray mare slipped this on, then turned and walked to the doorway. She lingered for a moment, hoof silently trailing along the wood that hid metal and technology beneath it, looking back over her shoulder at a bedroom that looked like any other bedroom in any other moderately-well-off Equestrian household: and yet the bed could move by itself, the floors were self-cleaning, there was a panic button under the tabletop and a music player hidden in the wall...
“Lights off.” Octavia said, and the lights turned themselves off: what feats this combination of magic and technology could bring. And the Luciferin hoarded so much of it to themselves; well, that wasn't entirely their fault, she reflected. Celestia regulated their industries very tightly, and Octavia understood why: magic and technology were both capable of so much, so many good things, great things, even... and together, their potential was even more limitless. But they were capable of great evil and destruction in the wrong hooves, too, and terrible accidents, and ponies became dependent on them: worse, they began to think they were entitled to these gifts.
Maybe that was why she liked Moonbeam so much. Moonbeam was quiet, and always said thank you, and never took what she was given for granted. Even though she'd run away, now that Octavia had cooled down, she understood that Moonbeam had just been trying to serve what she saw as her purpose. The Changelings were programmed, almost like machines...
How had Moonbeam broken her programming? And how was she blind to the magnificence of herself? She was like... like a golem that had dared to come alive, to have its own dreams! For Celestia's sake, Octavia herself wished she could be... more like Moonbeam.
Wasn't that funny? She wished she could be like Moonbeam. Free of her bonds, of that need to hide everything, keep everyone at leg's length, free of the desire to puzzle and contemplate and coldly analyze.
Octavia smiled faintly, then she shook her head as she turned and headed out the door. She left Square Hammer's lab, and soon enough, left Canterlot, slowly making her way back towards Ponyville.
By the time she reached home, it was late and dark, and she found Vinyl snoring on the couch. Octavia smiled again, briefly, as she saw the crumbs and remains of cakes on a tray on the table, along with two cold cups of tea: one was mostly gone, the other half gone.
It smelled faintly of smoke, even though Octavia always chastised the unicorn about going outside at least. A cigarette had been butted out in the ashtray, but Octavia was quite sure there would be at least two others in the potted plant nearby: Vinyl was terrible at hiding her habits. A last, unlit cigarette was in Vinyl's mouth, moving up and down with her snores: Octavia gently plucked this away, then she grasped the blanket hanging off the back of the couch and pulled it down over the unicorn.
“Sleep well, Scratch.” Octavia said after a moment, then she shook her head before she headed to her room. She took her time: by her estimates, it wouldn't be until very late before Moonbeam returned. Even if her mechanical legs were strong and tireless, the rest of the Changeling was not. Even considering the fact that Moonbeam was hardier than most ponies, she would still have to rest for at least a little while on the way back.
All the same, Octavia headed to the kitchen, brewed a pot of strong coffee, and then she sat down with her research notes, leaving a light on in the window. She spent the night there, just waiting, every so often looking up to check for her... patient, yes. That was what Moonbeam was now. A live-in patient. A research subject that she had been entrusted with the care of, and she only wanted to ensure there weren't any further accidents or problems.
Well, Octavia was almost able to convince herself that was the truth.
Octavia finally heard a nervous shuffling outside just before sunrise, and the earth pony couldn't help but smile to herself as she got up and made her way to the door. But she quickly assumed her usual calm poker face before opening it, just as Moonbeam started to knock.
The Changeling blinked and stumbled forward, narrowly catching herself with a blush, and Octavia studied her for a few moments: she was a disheveled mess, poncho ripped and torn, mane all askew, covered in dust from the long travel. The mare frowned slightly as she studied some scratching over one of her front legs, before she said brusquely: “Come inside. We have a room set up for you.”
Moonbeam trembled, then suddenly lunged forward and hugged Octavia fiercely, and the gray mare blinked in surprise as the Changeling buried her face against her neck and whispered: “I'm sorry. I'm s-so sorry.”
Octavia sighed softly, but then she silently rubbed a hoof along Moonbeam's back, giving a brief smile before she repeated in a quieter voice: “Come inside. We'll talk about things later.”
Moonbeam smiled faintly, nodding a few times and rubbing silently at her face as she drew back, then she allowed herself to be drawn into the house. The door swung shut behind her, and Moonbeam suddenly felt nervous: far more nervous than she had been back at the laboratory, where she had been a prisoner.
Maybe that was because the consequences seemed so much more dire now: if she did something wrong or bad, what was going to happen to her? There was nowhere else for her to go and nowhere to turn and oh, she was so afraid that-
“Moonbeam.” Octavia said, gentle but firm, and Moonbeam blinked and looked up before she smiled awkwardly when the gray mare gestured to her. “This way, please.”
Moonbeam nodded hurriedly, following the way Octavia had gestured. She headed down the hall with the other mare leading her, even though Octavia walked behind her: but it was more comforting than Moonbeam wanted to admit to have that kind of guidance again.
She blinked in surprise at the room they entered: it was a nice little bedroom, with a small fold-out bed. There wasn't much else: an empty stool for a corner table, a little dresser... but what called to Moonbeam most were the windows.
The curtains were drawn back, and Moonbeam strode in front of the window, hesitantly grasping the bottom of it as she looked at Octavia: but when Octavia only looked back at her, the Changeling bit her lip before she slid the window open, and gazed silently out into the streets of Ponyville, feeling the cool breeze kiss at her face, stroke through her mane.
She leaned out, looking back and forth: they were just far enough away from the town center that the noise likely wouldn't be too bad even if she left the window open all day. She smiled a bit, then glanced up with a blush as Octavia joined her before she gently slid the window down and shut, saying softly: “Ponyville will be awake soon, Moonbeam. It's a community that likes to be on its hooves early. You should close the blinds, too, the sun will shine-”
“It's okay. I don't need much sleep. I don't think the sun will wake me up.” Moonbeam said quickly, and Octavia studied her before giving a small smile despite herself: a meek little request hidden in a vague statement, but all the same, it was something. And Octavia supposed that she could honor that.
“Of course. This is your room, Moonbeam, and while we have some house rules, I would like you to make yourself comfortable. You may open or close the window and the blinds as you are comfortable with.” Octavia said, looking at her pointedly to make it clear to Moonbeam the trust she was also stating in her. “But we can go over rules and expectations after you get some rest. Would you like help removing your prostheses, or are you going to sleep with them attached?”
“I'm... very tired. I'll probably just go to bed like this.” Moonbeam said evasively, and Octavia was reminded again that as naive and meek as Moonbeam could seem at times, she wasn't stupid. But that was fine: they could take their time getting to know each other better now that they were out of the formalities of the facility.
“Very well. Good night, Moonbeam.” Octavia said politely, turning to head to the door. But she paused for a moment with her hoof on the handle before she asked suddenly, glancing back over her shoulder: “How did you escape from Square Hammer's lab?”
Moonbeam blushed deeply, then she shrugged awkwardly before she said finally: “It wasn't hard. We... Changelings can all naturally shapeshift, but my caste has to learn to do more than that. Some societies know about us and look out for our kind: others have magic that can check a person's identity. We had to learn to fool that magic, too. It's very hard to copy a pony's imprint, but we can do that too. Briefly.”
“Imprint?” Octavia asked curiously, and Moonbeam struggled to put the words together in a way that the earth pony could understand: it was just something you learned as a Changeling, after all. At least, when your duty was to infiltrate for long periods of time.
“Your... the beat of your heart, the way you breathe, the... sound you make, even when you're not talking. It's hard to put into words. It's just... something you learn to do.”
She looked lamely at Octavia, but Octavia only studied Moonbeam for a few moments before she gave a brief smile and nodded, saying softly: “I was just curious. Rest for now, Moonbeam. We can talk more in the morning.”
Octavia began to pull the door shut, but she stopped when Moonbeam blurted out: “Thank you!”
Octavia poked her head back in curiously, and the Changeling bit her lip before she lowered her head and said humbly, as she tugged awkwardly at the poncho still draped around her body: “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
The earth pony only smiled wryly, then she shrugged before she calmly closed the door. She turned and headed back to the kitchen, and was surprised to find that Vinyl was now up, leaning over the sink in front of an open window, a cigarette guttering from her muzzle.
“I wish you wouldn't do that.” Octavia said, eyeing the ashes dripping into the sink disapprovingly, but Vinyl only gave her a lopsided grin.
The unicorn shrugged, then asked: “How's the Changeling?”
“Moonbeam is fine, thank you. We had a bit of an incident, but she's here now and settling in.” Octavia paused, then added in a quieter voice: “Thank you for putting together a meal for me. I am sorry that I didn't return in time to enjoy it with you.”
“Hey, no worries. Things happen.” Vinyl shrugged, and there was silence between them for a few moments before she rubbed at her face, then she asked bluntly: “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”
Octavia considered for a moment as she sat down at the table, tapping a hoof quietly against the wood before she finally sighed and murmured: “When I'm ready, Scratch. I understand it's been a difficult few months for us both. But as hesitant as I am to tell you about my past, I think you deserve to hear about my days in the Luciferin. I just... hope that it doesn't change your opinion of me very much.”
Vinyl smiled a little, and then she grasped the coffee carafe with magic, walking over to the desk to refill Octavia's mug. “Hey, don't get like that, miss mysterious. Let's just... take one thing at a time, I guess. But don't think I'm gonna turn my back on you that easy, either. The past is the past, right? We all did a lot of stupid stuff in the past. I know I did.”
Vinyl paused long enough to tilt the carafe above her own muzzle, drinking down several gulps of the dark liquid as Octavia sighed, before the unicorn winked at her and added: “Besides, I kind of need you to pay the mortgage and all that.”
“Scratch, it is my name on the deed. You would have to be the one to move out if it came to that.” Octavia said dryly, but Vinyl only shrugged easily again.
“See? Even more reason.” she answered, then she smiled, saying in a softer voice: “Let's just take it one step at a time, like you're always saying. Besides, I think this'll be good for Moonbeam. Can't really blame her for what happened and all.”
There was silence for a few moments, and then Octavia nodded as she picked up her mug of coffee, saying softly: “Wise words for a disc jockey, Vinyl.”
“Hey, the only effort you have to put in with that cello of yours is lugging it around. What do you know about music?” Vinyl huffed, and Octavia couldn't help but smile in spite of herself, shaking her head before she returned her eyes to her research.
She just hoped that Vinyl was right, and this ended up being the best place for Moonbeam to be while she figured out what to do with her, and more importantly, just where she was supposed to stand with the Changeling.