//------------------------------//
// I See the Tunnels, I Hear the Drones 
// Story: In a Chang(el)ing World 
// by Kaipony 
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"I'd like to know more about these sensations you spoke of in our earlier sessions."

"What about them?"

"You mentioned how certain sights, smells, and sounds sometimes remind you of events from your days in the Task Force. Let’s start there. You must have visited many changeling hives in those days. Can you tell me a little about what you remember about them?"

"You fought a lot of changelings, but it was never enough. Some escaped. Leads ended up going nowhere. The thing about changeling hives that you notice the most is the smell. Whatever it is that they use to make their nests, it stinks of moldy pond water. The places are built like mazes, too." 

"I’ve been meaning to ask: What would your team do if you happened across a patrol or changeling guard while in the hive tunnels? How did you handle situations like that?"

“...”

“Mr. Edge?”

“...We’d neutralize them.”


~~*~~


The office glowed with comfort. It was an intimate space, small enough for anypony to feel as though they could shape the room into whatever form they pleased. There were two large picture windows, one adjacent to a plush couch that lie against one wall, the remainder of which was dominated by a floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelf. Colorful spines that announced fanciful titles were mixed in among drier subjects. 

The window on the opposite wall was partially obscured by a full, leafy potted plant and occupied the same side of the room as a desk. The desk was sparingly appointed, most of the flat surface area being used to corral a pair of literary towers constructed from various works on psychology and medicine. The rest of the usable desk space was consumed by writing supplies, notepads, and a small wooden box that radiated the scent of bergamot and vanilla. An empty mug sat near to the box.

Seated at the desk was an orchid pegasus mare, a wavy mop of mint-green mane flowing down past her shoulders. She reclined in a chair with a scuffed book cradled in her forelegs. Her blue eyes danced across the words with rapt attention, her entire world drawn into the pages. Her reading was interrupted, however, by three curt knocks on her office door. 

"Yes?" she called out. The door opened, and a familiar mare appeared at the threshold. She was flanked by a bored-looking stallion dressed in the barding of a Royal Guard. The doctor closed her book, rose, and ushered in her guest. "Faithful Watch. Good morning. Please, come in."

"Good morning, Doctor Luminant Heart," Faith greeted, stepping inside the office. She nodded to her escort who wordlessly posted himself outside of the office and shut the door. Then the two mares shared a quick embrace and moved to sit down next to each other on the plush couch.

"Faith," the pegasus chided. "How many times do I have to tell you not to be so formal?"

Faith chuckled. "Sorry, Lumin. Force of habit." She yawned, politely shielding her open mouth with a hoof. “Long night. I still can’t believe how much paperwork this job has sometimes."

"Yes, you guard types have very interesting working hours." She folded her hooves in her lap. "I take it you're here about Keen Edge?"

"I am," Faith nodded. "My superiors are asking for a progress report, but Keen isn't showing much headway." She massaged her temples. "I'm worried. More so than before."

"You know I can't give details about what he and I discuss," Lumin gently admonished.

"I know. This..." She hesitated. "This is more of a personal concern."

Lumin tilted her head and leaned in closer. "So when you say 'I'm worried,' you mean you, Faith, and not Lieutenant Faithful Watch?"

A mild blush spread across Faith's cheeks, and she nodded. "Yes, but it's not what you might think." She frowned. "I've had to collect him from the brig twice this month. Both times were on charges of assaulting a citizen."

Lumin pressed the issue with a raised eyebrow. "Reformed changeling citizens, you mean." 

"Right." Faith cursed under breath. “Once was in the middle of the night after getting kicked out of a bar. He’d been cut off after drinking too much hard cider and getting belligerent with the staff. He wandered into a park trying to find his way back to the barracks. There were a couple of changelings there. Out late celebrating or maybe just a pair of night owls, I don’t know.” 

“I think I can see where this is going,” Lumin commented.

Faith ran a hoof through her mane and nodded. “He told me later that they were up to something, so he hid in some bushes nearby. Apparently, the changelings had bought a bag of walnuts to snack on and were cracking them open. That’s about when Keen attacked them. I don’t think they would have gotten away if he’d been sober. And Keen would be in prison, exiled, or worse. He already got off easy with Princess Luna."

Faith fidgeted and wrung her hooves. "The changelings are not who they used to be, Lumin. It seems most everypony can see and accept that except Keen." She leaned back and crossed her forelegs. 

"Okay, sure, Queen Chrysalis is still out there somewhere. And I'm sure there are still drones that are hiding amongst normal ponies because they can't let go of their old ways. But Keen's not going after those few; he's after every changeling." She sighed. "All of them."

Lumin spread her hooves and offered a sympathetic shrug. "Can you blame him? You both spent years in the Anti-Changeling Task Force.” 

"The Task Force operated for a long time, sure. But it wasn't one mission after another," Faith clarified. She reached up to scratch the base of her neck and let her gaze settle on the floor. "The big ops, the ones where we raided hives or broke up roaming bands of changelings, were rare. Most of our time was spent gathering intel, running down leads, and scouting. There was downtime between missions so our operatives could rest and decompress." Faith looked up to find Lumin's eyes holding her in their quiet, steady scrutiny. 

"There's more to it than a few raids, Faith. And your time between them wasn’t always so mundane as investigations and scouting, was it." It wasn’t a question.

Faith ground her teeth and averted the therapist's calm stare. The ticking of the clock on the wall grew louder as seconds passed before Faith relented. "There were prisoner interrogations," she admitted. "Keen was always the first to volunteer. I gave him free rein because he always got the most information out of them."

"Were you ever present during Keen's interrogations?"

Faith shook her head. "In my reports to Captain Shining Armor, I only ever mentioned that a changeling prisoner was questioned and what information we gained. But I never included what I heard through the walls." Faith grimaced and leaned back on the couch when Lumin reached over to jot down an entry on a notepad. "The princesses were never directly involved, and Captain Armor had enough on his plate to keep any visit or inspection to a mere formality." There was a pause as Lumin continued to write and Faith sat back up. “Lumin, if we hadn’t gotten the information we needed from those changelings, more towns would have been attacked.”

Lumin finished her notations. "From the records I read, all of you had to experience awful, awful things." Then, she leaned forward. "But Faith, the choices made on the conduct of your operatives, on what actions you have taken, were yours alone. I need you to remember that when dealing with Keen. He followed your orders.” Faith clenched her jaw hard, but she remained silent. “Has he ever talked to you about what his typical day is like?" Lumin asked.

"Nightmares when he sleeps. The kind of stuff not even Princess Luna can banish." Faith continued to tick off items. "I've been there when he's woken up in a cold sweat. There's the constant suspicion that anypony he passes on the street or in an alley could be a changeling, waiting till his back is turned to attack him. He can't sit anywhere that doesn't have a clear exit in view, or with his back to a large window or crowds. It's paranoia."

Lumin closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them, they were focused someplace beyond Faith. "He's still in the Hive, if that makes sense. Anything around him could be a threat, so everything in his world is a danger." Her tail idly swished as she spoke. "There's no place, not even his mind, where he's safe." She refocused and reached out, taking Faith's hooves in her own.

"You need to understand, Faith. What Keen Edge is experiencing isn't paranoia or bad memories that he's reliving. It's not a series of flashbacks, and it's not an imagined world. Those changelings he attacked in the park? Those threats are real to him. The cracking noise, the one he says sounds like a changeling carapace breaking. Feelings of always being watched. Those are happening to him. Every. Day. It's all real."

Faith's ears drooped, and she looked away. She opened and shut her mouth several times before finally speaking. "Is he getting any better at all? Is it really that bad?"

"I'm sorry," Lumin said evenly, releasing Faith's hooves. "Unless I have written authorization from your chain of command, I can't divulge any specific information about our sessions that Keen hasn't already confided in you of his own free will."

"I know," Faith remarked. She rubbed her eyes. "I'm only asking for a general progress report, nothing specific."

Lumin hummed to herself for a moment before returning to her desk. She pulled a folder from a drawer and consulted a few of the pages within. "We're making progress, although it might be difficult to see." She sat down in her desk chair. "Everyone reacts to and deals with their demons and stresses in different ways. Some are overt. Some don't often come to the surface unless you draw them out. In every case, though, it takes time."

"I know that, but time isn't something the Guard has a lot of to spare when it comes to holding onto ponies that become a burden to the service."

A brief conversation, muffled by the closed door and followed by an insistent knocking, broke the pair out of their conversation. Lumin bade the new arrival to enter. The door opened and the attending Guard stepped aside, allowing entry to a large stallion wearing the badge of the Canterlot Police. He cleared his throat and tipped his hat to both mares. Then he looked to Faith. "Excuse me, Faith, but you're needed."

Lumin's eyes widened with recognition. "Officer Duster. What is it?" She gasped. "It's not Keen, is it?" The officer sighed and nodded.

Faith ground her teeth and slid off the couch. "I'm sorry, Lumin. I need to go. I'll check back in with you later." As Officer Duster moved aside to let Faith exit first, Lumin rose from her chair and escorted the pair to the door. As they marched off, the pegasus sighed. 

“Faith,” she whispered, looking at her notes. “What in Equestria have you done?”


~~*~~


Keen Edge was a dead weight against Faith's shoulder. He had one foreleg draped across her back, but the other three may as well have been dead logs for all the help they were giving in keeping the stallion upright. She kept one leg wrapped tightly around his barrel and dragged him alongside her as she stumbled up the dark stairs of the enlisted barracks. Faith grunted with the exertion while Keen mumbled verses of a song, head lolling around and breath foul-smelling as boozy saliva leaked from his mouth. 

"No place that I could go where they had not been before. When I got home, my heart was stone, 'cause I was still at war."

Twice, he slipped from her grasp, and Faith had to use a burst of weak telekinesis to keep him from making an abrupt acquaintance with the tile floor. The stallion Guard member assigned to accompany Faith moved to offer his support, but a sharp glare kept her escort at a short distance. 

“I got him,” Faith hissed. 

“Home or assigned place of duty only, ma’am,” the Guard pointed out sourly. “I’ll have to report this.” He nodded at Keen Edge. “You should have let the MPs handle him. Haven’t you done enough already?”

Faith’s glare stabbed at the Guard, but quickly softened before she looked away. “He’s my responsibility.”

Eventually, she managed to wrestle both Keen and herself up to the sixth floor of the barracks building and dragged Keen down the hallway to his room, the Guard awkwardly staying out of their way and posting himself to one side of the doorframe. Fumbling with her magic as Keen hummed to himself, Faith fished a key from the stallion's bit bag and opened the door. She flicked on a lamp, casting the spartan accommodations in pale amber light. Moving to the bedroom, Faith finally deposited her inebriated subordinate into his bunk and leaned against the mattress, catching her breath. Keen just continued to mumble lyrics after Faith composed herself and started to maneuver him into a more comfortable position.

"Mingled with the changeling cries, and the silence of the dead." 

"Enough of that now," she scolded. "Come on. Let's get you settled." Faith pulled a wool blanket from a drawer and spread it out over Keen Edge, making sure to avoid tucking the edges in too tightly around him.

"I don't need your help," he slurred, tossing the blanket from his shoulders and nearly falling out of the bed. Faith caught him once again, frowning at the stallion for his immaturity.

"Yes, you do," she said softly. "And you're getting my help, whether you like it or not." Leaving the blanket alone, Faith disappeared into the kitchenette. She returned with a glass of water and a bucket. She placed the bucket on the floor next to the bed.

"You're heavier than you look, you know," she said, setting the drink on the nightstand.

Keen rolled over, away from her. "You've done your duty. Now go away."

Faith kept silent, watching Keen. "Believe it or not, I care about you, Keen," she replied after a time. "You need somepony to look after you right now."

"Who do you think you’re fooling?" he spat bitterly. “All of a sudden you’re my mom, is that it? Playing nice now that the mission’s done so you don’t get in any more trouble with the higher-ups.”

Faith flinched as though slapped, running her hoof along the bunk absently as she thought for a moment. She was on thin enough ice as it was, and this little detour certainly wasn’t helping matters. That Guard standing bored and more than a little peeved outside the door was no doubt going to follow through on his word with reporting it. Let him. This was more important right now than whatever punishment Captain Armor could cook up anyhow. “It’s not like that, Keen. And it never was. This isn’t about scoring brownie points, or appeasing anypony. Like it or not, I am going to be here for you, and that’s not going to change with you stumbling around stinking of stale cider.”

Keen Edge huffed. “It’s liquor.”

“And your point is?”

Keen looked at her over his shoulder, and for a moment she thought she’d said something stupid. To her surprise, however, he settled deeper into his bed, turning away from her. Just when Faith thought he’d fallen into a drunken sleep, he quietly said, “I’m a mess, Faith…”

Before Faith could respond, he continued, his voice strained, devoid of the drunken slur from before. “I’m in so many places that I can’t pick up all the pieces. And I feel them all, so far away from me. Screaming at me.” Faith silently listened, her shoulders sagging. “I’m thirsty, but I can’t drink. And I try to eat, but food is all stringy and turns to rust in my mouth. Celestia, I haven’t gotten a day’s rest since… I-It’s just…” 

Faith’s ears perked at the sound of snoring, eyes returning to Keen to find him fast asleep.

She opened her mouth, but shut it when no words came. Then, she moved to the bedroom doorway and glanced back to Keen Edge. 

"Get some rest, soldier. I'll be back to check on you in the afternoon." Faith clicked off the lamp and shut the front door behind her.