Strange Bedfellows

by BRBrony9


Truth Or Lies

Canterlot was almost silent once more. The Chaos forces had been held back, thanks to the efforts of the royal sisters and hundreds of loyal guardsponies and soldiers. Their infantry had been halted outside of the palace, with the exception of the single small incursion into the service entrance which had been thrown out in short order. The ranks of their aircraft had been heavily thinned by Princess Luna, while Princess Celestia had focused on bringing down as many of the landing barges as she could, in an effort to kill the Chaos soldiers before they could even land at all. It had worked.

Princess Cadence's shield had been withdrawn, leaving the city exposed once more, but the enemy had fallen back, their attack thwarted. The shield could be raised at a moment's notice by any of the Princesses if the enemy threatened once again, but it was a waste of energy and strength to keep it constantly running. It was also a diversion of effort- there was much to do, including the issuing of further orders to the defending forces. The Royal Guard and the Army had taken more casualties, a fair number of dead and wounded ponies lying outside the palace walls and scattered across the city. The command centre in the library had been destroyed, and many senior officers were dead as a result. While Celestia was still firmly in charge overall, the military command of the city would need to be rapidly reorganised, with new appointments made from within the ranks of survivors to cover the most vital command functions. The airships, at least, had gotten away without damage or significant casualties, protected by their shields from everything except the red beam weapons of the Chaos enemy. The sorcerer had not bothered with their defences in the same way he had apparently interfered in the city shield.

Such magic was previously not known to be in the employ of the forces of Chaos. Nothing they had demonstrated could break through Alicorn magic at all. Even the Daemon, Malaranth, had failed to penetrate Celestia or Luna's shields, though by her own admission, Princess Cadence was not as strong as the two royal sisters. Then again, defence was her specialty, and somehow this human with his crooked staff had managed to find a way to break through the dome that surrounded the city, and gain access for his fellows. Everypony had seen it, the two holes in the shield, in the sky overhead. There was some disquiet among the survivors; if the enemy could do that once, then they could do it again. Those of a more optimistic outlook countered that train of thought; that was Cadence's shield. Celestia is stronger, much stronger, stronger even than her sister, to say nothing of Cadence. If protection had to be afforded to the city again, then it could be done, it might just have to come from a different source.

The palace grounds were littered with the bodies of the fallen human soldiers. Guardsponies had combed the area, putting a bullet into the head of any man who showed signs of life. This activity was carried out well before the civilians would be allowed back to the surface from down in the catacombs; seeing such things might confuse or anger them. Mercy killings, or executions without trial? Mere pragmatism, the guards might argue- a dead enemy is an enemy that cannot fight back, and the Chaos enemy had shown a sickening propensity to never give up the fight so long as breath remained in their body; hidden grenades could be produced and detonated, a knife pulled from a sheath and plunged into flesh, or a pistol grabbed from a holster in a last ditch effort to take somepony with them. It had most certainly happened before, and it was wise to make sure it didn't happen again.

A field hospital had been set up in the palace mews, where the wagons and carriages of the royal family were normally housed. Many of the wounded had been taken there, and pony medics and unicorns worked feverishly to try and save those who now teetered on the brink of death. They had severe burns caused by the Chaos beam weapons, hair burned away and skin charred. Others had bullet wounds, while some had suffered crush injuries from falling debris. There were only so many medics and doctors available, and as always after a major engagement, they were hard pressed to deal with all of the casualties that were being brought in.

At least there had been no civilian injuries or deaths. They had been kept below ground, safe in the catacombs. Though the enemy had breached the palace walls and indeed the main palace building itself, they had not reached the catacomb entrance, either unaware of its existence or simply having other priorities in mind. It was yet another attack on Canterlot, and yet another attack on the already fragile psyches of the ponies who lived there. Twilight was no exception, as she had spent the duration of the attack cowering helplessly below ground, told by the Princess to remain there and protect the foals and the other non-combatants who were hiding there. She had been angry, she had to admit to herself. Angry that she couldn't be up there helping out and protecting the city, and even, a tiny part of her deep within her mind, even angry with Celestia for not letting her do so. She knew there was logic to her orders, and Twilight had carried them out as she always had in the past, but she could not help but feel somewhat slighted. Did Celestia no longer trust her because she had been in Changeling custody? Did she think she might have been corrupted somehow, or perhaps could even be a Changeling in disguise?

She doubted the Princess would think the latter to be true. No doubt she had performed some subtle spell when first meeting Twilight after her rescue, to make sure that she was who she said she was, not some doppelganger. Twilight knew she was herself, of course; but the danger with Changelings was that nobody else did, at least not for absolute certain. There was always some considerable doubt spread whenever Changelings were known or suspected to be in the vicinity, and that was how it had always been, and likely would always be until they could be sure that every last Changeling had been hunted down and eradicated- if it was ever possible to be completely sure of that.

Whatever the true reason behind Celestia's decision, Twilight had abided by it, because she respected the Princess and her commands almost more than any other pony did. She had seen first hoof how hard it was for Celestia to run the country at the best of times, both with and without her sister, who could at least share some part of the burden. But this was wartime, and it was a war for survival, a war unlike any which Equestria had ever faced before. For centuries, Equestria had been the dominant power, the strongest force on the planet, thanks in no small part to Celestia and the Elements of Harmony. Celestia was still fighting, but the Elements themselves were in jeopardy thanks to Twilight's carelessness in getting herself captured. One good thing which had come from all of the death and destruction wrought to free her was that they did, at least, know of Chrysalis's grand plan, or at least what she had tried to persuade Twilight her plan was. It could have been a trick, of course, a ruse or the deliberate spreading of misinformation, something that the Changelings were rather good at historically. In the past it had been a simple task sometimes for a drone to impersonate an officer or a politician for a brief time, just long enough to give a false order or upset some important project that ponies had been working on. As potent a force as they could be on open battle, as a species they relied just as much upon misinformation, misdirection, and the sowing of fear and distrust through the ranks of their enemies.

Where Chrysalis was now, Twilight didn't know. The Changeling Hive had been located over on the eastern continent, in the Zebra lands, but she did not know if Chrysalis was to be found there or not. It might have been an empty Hive; the report from Grand Admiral Bluewater had been inconclusive, which was why he and his small fleet had been sent back across the sea to find out. Regardless of what the Changelings were doing, Chaos was the major threat at the moment. Their ships were in orbit, their troops had been inside the city again, and their aircraft had been soaring overhead and raining death down upon the inhabitants and defenders of Canterlot. The civilians had been herded below and kept safe in the confines of the catacombs for the second time in the past few weeks. They were being kept there for now, but Twilight at least was allowed up to the surface. Celestia had sent a message down for her.

She emerged into the daylight, blinking from the transition from dark to bright. It was almost becoming familiar for her, and that was not something she enjoyed very much. It reminded her too much of her rescue from the Hive, and the first thing she had seen then was a full scale battle unfolding before her, all to rescue her. Or, perhaps, to rescue her Element. This time, the battle was already over, but there was evidence of the fighting all around. Bodies were being piled up against the wall of the palace building, fallen humans who had paid the price for the ambitions of their dark gods and their power-hungry leaders. Once Twilight would have been appalled at seeing such death, especially in such a sacred place as the palace itself, but now she merely felt anger at their presence here, and some mild revulsion from the fact that they were indeed corpses. She didn't know what had changed to make her feel the difference today compared to her previous self, but she could certainly hazard some guesses. She had seen much since the start of the war, which she had never seen before. Wanton death and destruction for its own sake, all carried out by these humans. To see them lying dead no longer inspired the same gasps of shock as it once would have, for in truth, if she were to be honest with herself, she was glad to see them suffer and die. It was what they deserved, for that was what they had brought to Equestria.

Celestia was to be found inside the palace, in the throne room where she rightfully belonged. She was directing operations as guardsponies and soldiers bustled too and fro, trying to get their house back in order after it had been turned upside down yet again. Something of a routine had been reestablished after the fallout had been cleared away, and with the Imperial fleet in orbit it had seemed plausible that a real city might return to life. That dream had quickly died, however, when their ships had been forced away by the Chaos fleet, and now there was nothing but fear and danger once more.

Twilight approached Celestia as she stood near her throne. She noticed the approach of her student, and moved to greet her. 'Twilight, I am most glad to see you unharmed. There was a fear that the enemy might have been able to reach the catacombs, but we were able to stop them before that could happen.'

Not much before, Twilight mused. Some of the dead bodies that were out in the yard must have made it fairly close to the catacomb entrance before being killed, judging by the position of some of their uncollected weaponry that was still lying on the grass awaiting disposal. 'And I'm so glad you're alright, Princess,' Twilight replied. 'How is Princess Luna?'

'She is unhurt also,' Celestia assured her. 'My sister is keeping watch over the city while I reorganise its defences. I fear that this will not be the last we see of the enemy, or of their leader.'

'The Daemon was here?' Twilight asked nervously.

'No, not the Daemon. Their human leader. Their sorcerer.'

'They have another sorcerer?' Twilight cocked her head. She remembered the apparent leader of the first enemy fleet to have struck at Equestria.

'Not another one,' Celestia replied. 'The same man. Parthax the Infidel.'

'What?' Twilight gasped. 'But...but the Imperials said his ship was destroyed! He was killed, wasn't he? He was the one powering the warp storm, that was what they said!'

'Yes, but it appears they were mistaken,' Celestia replied. 'Either that, or someone is impersonating him, and doing an excellent job of it.'

'Is it possible that he's a Changeling?' Twilight suggested. The masters of mimicry would no doubt do a fine job of disguising one of their number as the sorcerer-lord, but Celestia shook her head.

'No. The same thought occurred to me, and I made sure to check with a detection spell. He is most decidedly human.' Such spells were only usable by Alicorns and a few very potent unicorns, for they were not simply a case of illuminating a Changeling or seeing through a mask. To detect a disguised Changeling required penetrating their own magic, for that was the source of their altered appearance, and it took powerful spells to be able to achieve that aim. That was the reason why the Royal Guard could not simply scan every pony who entered a security checkpoint to detect hidden drones, and that was how Changelings had been able to infiltrate pony society so easily on so many occasions.

'But...how could he have survived if his spaceship was destroyed?' Twilight asked. 'We saw what that looks like when that ship went down over the eastern plains at the start of the invasion...no human could live through that, could they?' From everything Twilight had seen, humans were just as vulnerable to any number of hazards as an unprotected pony would have been.

'I would imagine not,' Celestia replied. 'But that is assuming that he was actually on board the vessel he was believed to be in command of. It is entirely possible the Imperials were mistaken in their assertions. He could have been elsewhere.'

'But if he was not powering the warp storm...what was?' Twilight questioned.

'I do not know, but I shall ask the Lord-Admiral as soon as I am able,' Celestia assured her. 'No doubt he will be most interested to hear of the re-emergence of his old foe. We are reinforcing the city defences. I want you to continue to assist the civilians and ensure their safety. Prevent panic, reassure them.'

'But Princess, I can be more useful up here!' Twilight argued. 'Now that the danger has passed...'

'The danger has not passed, Twilight,' Celestia replied pointedly. 'The danger will not pass until these humans leave our planet for good, both Chaos and Imperial, and until we have defeated Queen Chrysalis once and for all. Until that time there will always be danger. Everypony has to understand that, and that is why I need you to stay with the civilians for the moment. My sister and I are far too busy to be able to attend to the needs of every citizen at the moment, and some of them perhaps do not trust the Guard as much as they should. But they know you and your friends. Familiar faces will help to calm them and reassure them that all is well.'

'But if the danger hasn't passed...then all is not well, Princess!' Twilight pointed out.

'That is correct, Twilight,' Celestia replied. 'But sometimes you have to lie to them for the greater good.'




The shuttle made its stately progress across the void. At Captain Marsten's command, docking bay 6 aboard the Indefatigable had been prepared to receive it. Magnetic docking clamps were activated, and the bay doors slid open, an energy screen protecting the crew inside the hangar from the perils of the void. The shuttle slipped in through the screen easily, and settled upon the deck, the clamps grasping onto it firmly in addition to its own landing legs. The engines throttled down and then were switched off, the whine and hum slowly fading away to silence.

The ramp was lowered, and General Jahn descended, and came face to face with two squads of armsmen, their autoguns and shotguns aimed from behind cover, a fine welcoming party for an unknown potential threat.

'Raise your hands above your head!' the Lieutenant commanding the armsmen shouted, and General Jahn complied. 'How many others are on board the shuttle?'

'There are three,' Jahn replied. 'My aide, the pilot, and the enginseer.'

'Come to us, General! Slowly, no sudden movements,' the Lieutenant ordered. His armsmen kept their fingers on their triggers, ready to engage in a heartbeat if they were given a reason. Jahn slowly advanced, keeping his hands above his head as ordered. 'Turn around!' the Lieutenant called. 'Drop to your knees, keep your hands raised.'

Jahn did as instructed, and one of the armsmen advanced with a pair of cuffs, pulling Jahn's arms behind his back and fastening them to his wrists. Given how the Changeling who had infiltrated the ship before had managed to escape from custody by reverting to its true form, the cuffs were of questionable value, but they were part of the standard procedure for apprehending criminals and other dangerous elements aboard ship. Jahn was dragged away, with some care afforded to him since he was, ostensibly at least, a General. The Lieutenant called out again for the pilot to descend the ramp, which he did, finding himself cuffed. The procedure was repeated twice more for the other two men aboard, first the enginseer and finally the General's aide, all of whom were cuffed according to protocol, regardless of rank and regardless of whether their true allegiance was ultimately to Queen Chrysalis, to the Emperor, or to the Omnissiah, the Machine-God of the Adeptus Mechanicus. All would be revealed in time, it was hoped.

General Jahn and his aide were led through the corridors, their hands bound, drawing confused looks and gasps from crewmembers as they passed. What was going on? A mutiny? Why was the General in custody? Those that recognised him, or at least his badges of rank and insignia, were left bemused and puzzled, with no answers to their questions. Lowly deck hands and section foremen were hardly privy to the grand workings of the fleet; a mild sense of bemusement and apathy was their usual lot in life, and this was no different. To many, it didn't even matter at all.

A turbolift took the two prisoners up, while the shuttle's crew were kept under guard in the hangar bay's adjoining ready room, sealed behind the locked door with armsmen posted outside in case they should try to escape, or if they should turn to their true Changeling form- if indeed they were Changelings. General Jahn and his aide were delivered to the ship's bridge, where Captain Marsten was waiting for them. Under normal circumstances, Marsten would have been obliged to salute the General, since his rank was the Guard equivalent of a Navy Admiral, Marsten's superior. He dispensed with the formalities given the present circumstances, however, and merely offered his words as greeting and acknowledgement.

'General Jahn. Tell me why I can trust you.'

'Captain, simply because you must,' Jahn replied. 'The fleet is in danger. That man you spoke to is not the Lord-Admiral. Indeed, not truly a man at all. The bridge has fallen, and the Lord-Admiral with it. He is either dead, or in the custody of the Changelings, I know not which. Nor do I know how you can determine for certain which of the possibilities is true.'

'There is, at least, a simple way of determining if you are truly who you say you are,' a new voice spoke up, adding to the conversation. It was that of Terkov, the ship's Senior Commissar. She had remained silent until now, but her hand rested pointedly upon the butt of her bolt pistol from the moment the General had been led onto the bridge. Now she pulled it from its holster, meaning she did not need to verbally complete the rest of her explanation. General Jahn turned to her.

'Commissar, please. Your threats are entirely unnecessary. We must not waste time fighting among ourselves when the real threats are out there. On board our flagship.'

'Who is to say they are no on board this ship, as well?' Terkov asked. 'We may have invited the threat onto our bridge.'

'Commissar, I know you are just being practical. That is your duty, after all, to always see the worst in people,' Jahn replied, drawing a scowl from beneath Terkov's peaked cap. 'I also know that I have no way that I can think of to prove to you beyond any doubt that I am not a Changeling, save for you to kill me. But if you kill me and it is red blood that leaks onto this deck plating, Commissar, then it is you who will have to pay the ultimate price for your error.'

'You say the bridge of the flagship has fallen, General,' Marsten cut in, bringing the conversation back on track. 'How did you learn of this?'

'An emergency transmission from the bridge, Captain,' Jahn replied. 'Only a brief snippet before it was cut off. But it was a cry for help, and there was gunfire in the background. I was not on the bridge at the time, but rather in a liaison meeting with members of the ship's security detail. I was overseeing the deployment of Imperial Guard forces to assist in the containment of the Changeling threat. When we received the message in the security centre, we immediately attempted to contact the bridge, which failed. We next tried to contact the lower security centre down on deck 20. That also failed. It was only when we tried to make external communications and contact your vessel that we realised our communications were being jammed or disrupted somehow.'

'And you were in the main security centre?' Marsten questioned. He had served aboard several Emperor-Class battleships during his long career, and was familiar with their layout and operational functions.

'That is correct, Captain. Deck 5,' Jahn nodded.

'Then the only other place that such a comms override could come from would be the bridge,' Marsten mused. 'There would, of course, be no obvious reason why the Lord-Admiral would attempt to cut comms out of the main security centre, given that deck 5 was several decks above the Changelings' last recorded position. He informed me they had been contained on decks 10 and 11.'

'The Changelings were attacking deck 9, and I believe deck 12 also. That was shortly before we lost contact with the bridge,' Jahn replied. 'It was after that point that we realised the communications had been cut. That was when we knew for certain that the bridge had not only been attacked, but had been captured, and the Lord-Admiral along with it...or else, he now lies dead. Either way, Captain, from what I believe, that makes you the fleet's senior naval officer. You are in command of this Crusade now.'

'And if the Lord-Admiral is indeed still alive and in command?' Marsten asked. 'If you are lying to me, and that truly was Lord-Admiral Marcos that I spoke to on the vox?'

'If that had truly been the Lord-Admiral, then he would not have told you all was well. Captain, I came from deck 5. It was agreed by the crew in the security station that I should attempt to reach a friendly vessel and inform them of the situation, by virtue of the fact that I was the highest ranking officer present. I was able to obtain a shuttle from one of the docking bays on that deck, and now I stand before you. But consider, Captain. You said that the Lord-Admiral, when you spoke to him just now, told you the Changelings had been contained to decks 10 and 11. If he was the real Arlen Marcos, speaking the Emperor's truth, and if I were a Changeling, how would I have been able to launch a shuttle from deck 5?'

It was a perfectly reasonable point, and one which Marsten had been considering since the General had contacted his ship. He did not know the answer, but before he could reply, he found himself interrupted by a shout.

'Captain, we are being hailed!' the vox officer called. 'It is the Lord-Admiral!'