//------------------------------//
// Confusion 
// Story: Strange Bedfellows 
// by BRBrony9 
//------------------------------//

Captain Danrich looked back at Lieutenant Callantine, but she was gone. Standing before him instead, laughing, fangs bared, was another Changeling, considerably bigger than the drone, with a long, crooked horn.

The Queen. 

It had to be. She matched the descriptions that had been circulated throughout the fleet. There could be little doubt. Danrich felt a bolt of both fear and confusion shoot through him. He was not sure if this was better or worse than harbouring traitors on his vessel. Instead, the Polaris Maxima was playing host to Xenos. Not just any Xenos, either, but a species they had been warned to be on the lookout for, a species that could pose a threat to not just the fleet, but the entire Imperium, were they to be allowed to leave this Emperor-forsaken planet. Now, they were on board a warp-capable starship; not for the first time, but this time, they were in control of it.

That explained how Callantine, or rather Chrysalis, as she had been named in the fleetwide alert messages, had managed to get from the bridge to the lower decks so fast. The Changelings, like some of the horned ponies, possessed the ability of teleportation. None of the guards who were surrounding the few survivors showed any signs of being unnerved or scared by the sudden appearance of Changelings in their midst; were they all Changelings too?

There had been no way of knowing, no possible way. Even if there had been a nascent mutiny forming on the lower decks, which was entirely believable, there was certainly no way of telling that it was being either caused by Changelings, or perhaps merely adapted for their own methods. Their disguises were too good, essentially perfect. Maybe a psyker could have detected them up close, but the ship's internal sensors, rigged to scan for the unknown particle that all of these 'magic' creatures gave off, had seen nothing. The alert had not been triggered even once, and Emperor only knew how many of these beings were now aboard the cruiser. They were in control, that much was clear, and he was face to face with their leader.

Danrich tried to mask his surprise. He had expected only to be facing a mutinous band of traitors, not a Xenos invasion. 
'What about that ship?' he asked, referring to the Daemonfate. 'It arrived just as you took the bridge. You're going to tell me that was a coincidence? You're working with them, aren't you? With the Dark Gods.'

'These gods of which you speak mean nothing to me, Captain,' Chrysalis assured him, with another chuckle. 'Perhaps one day I shall come to meet them face to face, if indeed they do exist. But for now, I will content myself with this ship.' She took a step closer to him. 'After this ship, perhaps this fleet. Or perhaps I will simply bypass all of that, and head straight for...Hydraphur, isn't it? Your fleet headquarters, hm? What delights must await a weary traveller in such a place.'

'You think they'll just let you waltz right back into Hydraphur?' Danrich replied. 'If they know who you are then they'll blow you to hell before you get within a million miles, and even if they don't, any ship returning from a place like this will be quarantined as a matter of routine. You will be interrogated. How are you going to explain why you have the senior officers imprisoned?'

'Why, that's simple. By the time we get there, you won't be prisoners any more,' Chrysalis replied. A threat, no doubt. Perhaps they would be shot, or thrown out of an airlock. 

'Well, what are you waiting for? Why not kill us now, Xenos? Danrich asked, narrowing his eyes. 

'Well that's simple as well, Captain,' Chrysalis answered him. 'We still need you.'

'You need us? What could you possibly need us for? Hostages? As soon as the Lord-Admiral finds out this ship is lost, then he'll destroy it. You realise that, don't you?'

'Hostages? No, no. Once again you are mistaken, my dear Captain,' Chrysalis chuckled, addressing him with a smile. 'No, we need you for food.' She hissed menacingly, despite her cheerful and incongruous grin, her forked tongue flicking out. Danrich felt a sudden stab of dread inside him.

'Food? You're going to eat us?'

'No!' Chrysalis replied with another chuckle. 'Heavens, don't you even listen to your own fleet reports? Changelings feed on love, Captain, not flesh. Not entirely, at least. We are certainly capable of consuming other things as we once did in the past. But we have evolved beyond such simplistic measures of sustenance. Although, of course, we might decide to eat...one or two of you, if there is another attempt at escape. Just as an example to the others, you understand.'

'Feeding on love...what nonsense!' Danrich glared up at her. 'Such a thing is impossible.'

'I could give you a practical demonstration, Captain, though of course you would scarcely even notice any difference, either in me or in yourself,' Chrysalis answered. 'Suffice it to say that such a thing is very much possible for us. Though perhaps creatures as...primitive as yourselves might not understand,' she mocked. What seemed most remarkable about the whole situation was the ease with which Chrysalis and her minions had adapted to the wonders of human technology and ingenuity that now surrounded them everywhere. The Queen was treating everything with an almost casual approach, as if suddenly finding herself on the bridge of an interstellar warp-capable combat starship where mere days before she had been scrabbling around living in a cave was the most natural transition one could ever make in life. 

While the fleet reports to which Chrysalis had referred, and the technical and biological data issued by the Adeptus Mechanicus from the Ferrus Terra, had both warned of the Changelings' potential for infiltration, they had not explained how they might adapt to differing conditions so readily, not how they might acquire the specialist knowledge necessary to understand Imperial technology, customs and tactics. Unless the entirety of the mutiny consisted solely of Changelings in disguise, which was always a distinct, terrifying possibility of its own, then it seemed that Chrysalis had somehow acquired enough knowledge of such matters to actively fool other crewmembers, including officers, that she was the real Lieutenant Callantine. She had even, Danrich was loathe to admit, fooled him.

The question thus remained; was the real Lieutenant Callantine planning this mutiny anyway, or had it been entirely hatched, planned and executed by the Changeling Queen? Danrich was not sure which seemed worse; to have his ship entirely taken over by Xenos, or to have to contend with both Changelings and traitors on the same vessel. Either way, the chances of regaining control of the Polaris Maxima seemed extremely remote.









After several days' intense work, the human cleanup team in Canterlot had completed their task. The palace walls, courtyard, and rooftops had been scrubbed with decontaminating material and washed off with water, and the building could once more be used for accommodation. Radiation levels across the city had dropped, as a result of natural decay, to below one percent of the initial levels upon the first arrival of the fallout. Radioactive water used in the decontamination process had been either collected by the team or diverted into one particular sewer, keeping others clean. Every effort had been taken to eradicate the dangers of any residual radiation within the palace walls so that the ponies could move out from their troglodyte existence below ground and back into some semblance of normality.

They had emerged, blinking, into Celestia's sunlight, eyes narrowed against the glare. it was a clear day with barely a cloud in the sky, a far cry from being under the death plume which had forced them underground in the first place. The palace was how they had left it; the humans had not touched anything inside, for fear that they would transfer the fallout to the interior of the building. What few of the palace's treasures remained after the enemy occupation were still intact.

Though there were plenty of guest rooms and spare beds inside the palace, there were not enough to accommodate everypony who had been forced underground. Many of the soldiers were billeted outside in the courtyard, at least until the rest of the city was deemed to be habitable once again. It would not take long, the humans informed them; the radiation would continue to decay naturally, and within another week, they estimated, it would be down low enough that the ponies could once again roam freely throughout their capital city. The fallout underhoof like snow would still be unnerving, and might make many remain in the clean zone provided by the palace, but it would be all but harmless to them by that point, so long as they did not ingest anything that had been contaminated with radiation. 

Twilight was very glad to make it back to the surface. The caverns had been made tolerable by the presence of her friends and family, but it certainly bore no comparison to life above ground. Even a Canterlot that had been half destroyed by war was preferable to the darkness below. Artificial light from lanterns, torches and magic could bear no comparison with Celestia's solar rays which now bathed the city, warming Twilight's face as she trotted through the courtyard.

Despite her second enforced subterranean exile, she felt a lot better than she had done a few days ago; stronger, more able to move on her own. She didn't need any help to walk, as she had when they were forced to head down there. It was certainly not some property of the catacombs which had resulted in her recovery, but merely a gradual process since she had returned to Canterlot. Just being in familiar surroundings and among those she knew and loved was the biggest boost to her, mentally if not necessarily physically. 

She was not in the courtyard for any particular reason. She had just felt like going for a walk, a stroll through the gardens in the sunlight after being cooped up below ground. It was a wonderful sight to see, the palace reoccupied, as it should be. The royal standard flew from the rooftops, signalling that the Princess was in residence once more. Twilight had been assigned to the same room she had been in before, but she had wanted to get out of there for at least a while.

She was not alone, either. There were other ponies around. Some were soldiers and Guardsponies, who were billeted outside, but there were civilians too. Some foals were playing, giggling as they chased each other around the palace yard. Laughter was something which had been in severely short supply lately, even with Pinkie Pie present, and to hear the laughter of foals made Twilight feel good inside. It was, at least, a semblance of normality in this turbulent time, a time of great upheaval and confusion, of change. They would have to get back to such things, to the good times, at some point. She had to believe that it would happen.

'Miss Sparkle?'

Twilight looked around. A Guardspony had trotted over to her.

'Yes?' Twilight replied.

'Could you come with me, please? The Princess wishes to speak with you.'




'My Lord, the Polaris Maxima is hailing us on vox.'

'Ah, finally,' Lord-Admiral Marcos muttered. The light cruiser had been out of contact for some hours following its vox breakdown at the most inopportune moment, just prior to the arrival of the Chaos battleship. If the Daemonfate had come to fight, then such a breakdown might have proven very costly. As it was, it did not much affect the outcome. The destroyer section was already all but lost before any warning could have been transmitted to the fleet, even with a working vox system, and an early warning of the battleship's arrival would not have changed the result of the battle. The Daemonfate intended to blow itself up, and it had. Why, Marcos still did not know, and that nagged at him painfully. There had to be some reason for its strange action.

'Captain Danrich, report,' Marcos ordered, as the vox link was established with the Polaris Maxima.

'My Lord, our vox system is now repaired and fully operational,' the familiar voice of Danrich came through the speakers. 'I must apologise again for the system failure at such a juncture. Those responsible for its maintenance have been...appropriately sanctioned as a result.'

'Understood, Captain. As it happens it did not matter very much,' Marcos assured him. Almost a day had passed since the battle, or rather the suicide run, had occurred, and they still had not learned anything more about the motives behind it. 'We still do not have any solid explanations as to the actions of the Chaos ship. Do you have any theories to promulgate, Captain?'

'No, My Lord,' Danrich replied. 'I am afraid I cannot offer anything more to the conversation regarding it. The actions of the Dark Gods are always mysterious. Perhaps their act was designed merely to confuse us into just this kind of state of paranoia?'

'That is a distinct possibility, Captain, yes,' Marcos agreed. 'But if that were the case, why would they choose to sacrifice their crew as well as their ship? Why not retain them for use elsewhere? Trained crewmen are hard to come by, and it takes time to train others.'

'Perhaps they had taken enough casualties in the previous battles to render the ship difficult to fully man,' Danrich suggested. 'Operating with a skeleton crew?'

'Our sensor records show that the Daemonfate only received moderate structural damage during the previous engagement,' Marcos replied. 'It seems unlikely that they could have taken that many casualties. No, there is something nefarious afoot here, as there always is where Chaos is concerned. Captain, I want you to return to your previous position and take over from the frigate Charybdis-2 as picket ship. Keep watch especially on the sector of space where destroyer section Tertio were destroyed. There may well be more of the enemy out there and we cannot afford to take any chances.'

'Yes, My Lord,' Danrich replied. 'We shall proceed there at once. My Lord, should we send a ship to investigate that area?'

'We cannot afford to spare any,' Marcos explained. 'If anyone is operating with a skeleton crew, it is us. Our strength is depleted and I cannot afford to risk any more ships that far out from the planet. If the enemy comes at us again, we will need every available ship and every available gun to fight them off.'

'Yes, My Lord. And if they come in numbers too great to resist?' Danrich questioned.

'Then we resist anyway,' Marcos replied. 'If it becomes necessary, we hold them off for as long as we can while the ground forces are evacuated onto the transports.'

'We would abandon this planet?' Danrich asked. 'After expending so much energy here? So many lives?'

'If necessary, yes,' came the blunt reply. 'That would not be my preferred outcome, but...if the enemy returned in sufficient numbers, then there would be no sense in throwing what remains of this fleet away needlessly. After traveling so far and accomplishing so much, it would be a bitter blow to turn back and abandon this place, but it may have to be done.'

'But My Lord. Is there not something...special here?' Danrich questioned. 'Is there not something we seek to keep from the grasp of the enemy?'

'Yes, there is,' Marcos responded. 'But it is something that we still do not really understand the fundamentals of. The Mechanicus have examined the bodies of both ponies and Changelings in forensic detail and still come up with no explanation as to the cause of their abilities, nor how to adapt it for our own uses. It may be that the enemy will have the same problems, if that is indeed what they are seeking here.'

'Could an Astropathic signal not be sent back to Hydraphur requesting reinforcements?' Danrich suggested. 'Another fleet could be with us within weeks.'

'Or it might take them years,' Marcos pointed out. 'The vagaries of the warp are never that easy to understand, Captain.'

'But My Lord, did not the Astropaths report that this...pony princess...acted as a kind of beacon to them? Could that effect not help guide reinforcements to us?'

'In theory, yes,' Marcos replied. 'But I spoke with the Astropaths myself. The effect of the princess within the warp is curiously potent, but only over a limited distance. It is a beacon, yes, but perhaps only sector-wide. Not like the Astronomican. The reinforcement fleet would still have to make it in close to us before they picked the signal up, and that could take them months anyway. For all we know the princess could be dead by then.'

'A tragedy for their species should it come to pass, no doubt,' Danrich scoffed, with scorn evident in his voice.

'No doubt,' Marcos agreed. 'I take it you do not think highly of her?'

'No, My Lord, I do not,' Danrich replied. 'She is capricious and conniving, doing whatever she thinks is necessary to protect her own kind, even at the expense of others.'

'You sound like you know her personally, Captain,' Marcos chuckled.

'Just what I have read in the reports, My Lord,' Danrich responded quickly. 'An opinion formed perhaps erroneously...you have met her, I...have not.'

'Indeed I have, and I am still not sure exactly what to think of her,' Marcos admitted. 'She is...an enigma, shall we say. I have no desire to abandon her or her people to the Archenemy, however, so get your ship in position, and keep your Auspex arrays working at full power. I'll expect updates every hour. Is there anything else to report, Captain?'

'No, My Lord. Nothing else to report.'

'Very good. Marcos out.'




With the vox link shut off, 'Captain Danrich' could revert to his real form. Chrysalis stood once again on the bridge of the Polaris Maxima, surrounded only by loyal drones. There was no need for them to appear as human, at least most of the time. There were no humans on the bridge any more, and the only time they needed to briefly switch to their disguise was when a particular control panel or piece of equipment required a more deft and delicate touch from a finger, rather than a hoof, to operate. The bridge of the ship was under the total control of the Changelings, as were the reactor room, armouries, medical bay, launch bays and gun batteries. The key points of the ship were now staffed entirely by drones, in disguise where necessary. Not all of the ship's crew needed to be killed off just yet. Many of them were living in total ignorance of the events that had unfolded elsewhere aboard the vessel. Such was the daily life of a man or woman on the lower decks of an Imperial capital ship; things could transpire many decks above that would never filter down to the countless thousands who toiled in the dim light. Sometimes a Captain could be replaced, by entirely legitimate methods, and for years afterwards the men working in the maintenance tunnels and ammunition magazines far below would genuinely believe that the previous Captain was still in command.

In essence, the same thing had happened here. Queen Chrysalis was Captain now, or Lieutenant Callantine, or whoever else she needed to be to continue the masquerade. The Lord-Admiral had seemed totally clueless to her true identity, as indeed had Captain Danrich before him. The Hive Mind of the Changelings had rapidly informed her, weeks ago, of the nature of life aboard Imperial vessels, and of the conditions which could potentially be exploited. A nascent rebellion had already been forming on board the Polaris Maxima, and therefore that was the ship which the Queen had chosen. It was a simple matter of ambushing and replacing a minor crewman who was planetside for a supply run, one of the few permitted since the Imperium became aware of the Changeling threat, . It was broadly similar to what had been done to create the initial incursion into space, aboard the human flagship, the Emperor's Judgement. This time, however, the Queen herself had taken the reigns, riding the human shuttle up to the starship she was now in command of.

Once aboard, she had laid low for a couple of days, receiving a lot more information from the other undercover drones aboard, before finally acting. Lieutenant Callantine, the ringleader of the proposed mutiny, would be an easy and obvious target for her. Many other crewmen were already following her and were ready to put their plans into motion. They were dissatisfied with the way the fleet was being used to help aliens, the length of time they had been away from home, and the lack of any apparent timetable for when they would finally be leaving this place. What better way for Chrysalis to take over the ship than to, essentially, have the humans do it for her?

Callantine, the real Callantine, had died alone in the showers down on deck 15, the water washing away the blood and the body being dissolved by a simple spell. Thus, Callantine had become Chrysalis, and Chrysalis had become Callantine, leading the mutiny to its inevitable conclusion, with the takeover of the vessel. There had been no real resistance, because none of the officers knew it was coming. Callantine and her co-conspirators had done a good job of keeping things secret from those who had been in command. It was only the fortuitous replacement of several members of the plot with Changeling drones that had clued Chrysalis in to the plan at all. She had been only too happy to use the ploy for her own ends.

It had been a simple matter to secure the ship's vital systems, with help from the human mutineers who were blindly following their leader in blissful ignorance of her new, true identity. Once they had served their purpose and each compartment was under their control, the humans among them were quietly eliminated by those of their number who had already been replaced by Changeling drones. The more that were killed, the more of the other drones who had been in hiding on the lower decks could come out and join in the party, adopting the appearance of the fresh corpses in their stead, until the whole mutiny was made up of Changelings and Changelings alone.

With the ship under control, it was time for the Changelings to set about converting it into a kind of mobile Hive, to suit their needs and to permit their continued expansion. More drones would need to be hatched in order to take control of the rest of the fleet. The crew of many of the larger vessels was in the hundreds of thousands, if not more, in the case of the two capital ships, and while the Changelings would not need the full compliment to get the vessels working, they would still need far more drones than there were currently, even if they could collect all of those who had been left down on the planet below. 

It would take time. Compartments would have to be selected, those that were most suitable. Dark and damp, preferably; those on the very lowest decks would suffice. Several small compartments in the deepest bowels of the ship had already been transformed in anticipation of a boarding action just such as this, adding to their numbers on board before striking the heavy blow once their Queen arrived. Hatcheries and breeding chambers would be needed, to produce drone after drone after drone. It would be a relatively simple, albeit time consuming, task to create such spaces, using both magic and the plentiful Imperial equipment available on board for assistance. Once it was done, the ship could be filled with drones, all sustained on the love produced both by themselves for their Queen, and by the surviving human crew for their Emperor. Once the time was right, they would strike. It was not time yet.

But Chrysalis was a patient Queen.