"War is a battle of wits, a meeting of minds in which you must impose your will upon the enemy while preventing the enemy from imposing his will upon you."
–Praetor Maximus Gaius Octavius, 376 BCE
The letter in Twilight's hoof was, she supposed, inevitable. Shining Armor had been married for a few years by now, so their mother's attention had drifted to Twilight herself. Nevermind that Twilight Sparkle was a Princess of Equestria, with a promising research career and a group of friends capable of saving the world. She needed to start dating.
"Something troubling you, Your Highness?"
Twilight looked up to see that Thunderball had, once again, snuck into the library. "Just dealing with my mother's no–so subtle hints that she wants grandfoals sooner rather than later."
Thunderball found it hard to suppress a smile. "You know, it's understandable; old unicorn houses put a great deal of emphasis on bloodlines, since only blood relatives could legally inherit the noble title."
"That hasn't been the case since the Heredity and Inheritance Act of 635, though."
"True, but you still see plenty of stuffy Canterlot nobles arranging marriages for their children, looking down on adopted children, etc — not that I'm implying anything about your mother," he added hastily.
"No, it's alright. I've seen the same nobles growing up, and they're absolutely dreadful. Did I ever tell you how Prince Blueblood offered to make me a princess when we were in magic kindergarten? The way he phrased it, you'd think he was doing me some huge favor."
"I trust you said no?"
"I turned him pink."
Thunderball burst out laughing. "Well, I hope you don't do the same to your mother."
"Sadly not an option," Twilight grinned back. "Maybe I should tell her I'm into mares?"
"Given that your choice in friends — Rainbow Dash in particular — that might work."
Twilight's eyes widened. "Pardon?"
"Oh, a lot of tabloids think you two have a relationship. Something about her teaching you how to preen your wings after your, er, alicoronation, and things getting more intimate from there." There was a pregnant pause as he saw Twilight's left eye twitch. "Don't worry, it happens to everyone."
"How do you deal with it?"
Thunderball shrugged. "I just remind myself that public opinion of me is meaningless. Spending time with friends and family also helps — in fact, I came in to ask for a week off to get reacquainted with my extended family."
"Granted." Her ears perked up as she had an idea. "In fact, why don't you invite them to Ponyville? I'd love to meet them."
"Sorry, Your Highness — perhaps next time. Right now, we've got a camping trip scheduled." Thunderball bowed and headed for the door, leaving Twilight to deal with her mother and newly found royal image issued by herself.
The Appeloosa orchards were in full bloom, with ripe apples just waiting to be picked. A gentle night breeze rustled them causing one to off of its branch. It landed on the ground, in a patch of moonlight next to a large wooden crate. The impact startled Daisy Cutter and Phrase Mark, who had been sitting on the crate waiting for their cousins. Phrase Mark looked relieved when she found out the noise had been caused by a fruit, while Daisy grabbed the fallen apple and devoured it in a single bite.
"Really," Phrase Mark clucked, "Must you rob the farmers of their produce just because you're nervous?"
"I'm not nervous, I'm hungry." Daisy produced a bit from her saddlebags and tossed it onto the ground. "There, fair compensation. Happy?"
Daisy reached up to grab another apple as Phrase Mark turned her attention to the east, where a group of ponies was moving through the shadows of the orchard. Thunderball was the first to step into the moonlight, followed by Creme Brulee and the others.
He stepped up to Daisy and cautiously whispered, "Exitus."
"Acta probat," Daisy responded, completing the pass phrase. "Alright, let us quickly equip ourselves and be off."
She pulled a burlap sack out of the crate and poured out enough combat gear for a single pony. It was all the same color of midnight–blue, and blended in perfectly with the shadows of the apple orchard. She rummaged through the pile until she found a body suit, and held it up triumphantly.
"This light and flexible suit will stop shrapnel, bullets, and stabbing weapons. It is intended to be worn in conjunction with a combat vest. Our latest prototype vest weighs fifteen pounds, provides protection equal to five times its weight in steel, and is highly resistant to direct magical attacks. Unfortunately, this set is not intended for desert operations; in the daytime, we will have to rely on chamelonskin cloaks for stealth."
Thunderball flexed the vest in his hooves. It was semi–rigid, and, to his surprise, a scale pattern formed under the fabric. "Daisy, this is dragonscale! Who'd you have to kill to get this?"
"Dragons shed, you know." Daisy quickly picked up a helmet and continued on. "The helmet comes with an integrated headset which will enhance quiet sounds, cancel out loud ones, and enable radio communication, though we may experience issues underground."
Creme Brulee shuddered as Daisy pulled out something that could have passed for the skull of a bug–eyed monster. "Given the high likelihood that we will be employing smoke and knockout gas, we will each be wearing a gas mask. The lenses are tinted in the event that we deploy flashbangs, and contain an integrated night optical device."
"Come on, let's get to the fun part." Dive Bomb whipped a combat knife out of its sheath on his vest and slashed the air with it. "What weapons do we get? A titanium–carbide knife's good f' fun an' sentry elimination, but it's no primary weapon."
Daisy wrinkled her nose and turned to Phrase Mark, who stepped up to the crate. "Fillies and gentlecolts, step up and be amazed! I have here for you tonight a carnival of wonders!"
"First we have an exotic blade, straight from the mountains of Neighpal!" A knife in a brown leather sheath levitated out of the crate; the forward curve of its blade identified it as a kukri. Phrase Mark tossed it to Dive Bomb. "Don't engage in any horseplay with this, colts, it is not a toy."
She ignored Dive Bomb as he swung the kukri at a tree branch, which fell of with a soft snicker–snack, and turned to Thunderball with a set of horseshoes. "Phrase Mark and I broke out the Shards of Midnight a few months ago to help craft a set of adamantine horseshoes with enhancements for speed and agility. Should serve you a bit better than your old pair."
The replacements made Thunderball feel far lighter on his feet than he had ever been. He gave a nearby apple tree a light jab, and found his hoof buried in the trunk before he realized it. His mouth broke into a wide grin; it felt as if he was as fast as Rainbow Dash.
He turned back to the crate to see Daisy pulled out a Neighpoleonic–era rapier in a black scabbard, while Phrase Mark produced two smoky mana prisms, with an azure gemstones set in each. "We also conveniently forgot to return the Shards."
Creme Brulee stared at the rings in awe. "I thought those were a myth! Are those really the tears Nightmare Moon shed when Celestia banished her?"
Flash Point slid one around her horn, where it gave off a faint purple glow. "Doubt it; Dariing Do found the one on the right in a dragon's hoard dated roughly three centuries before Nightmare Moon."
"Don't you think this is overkill?" Creme looked between the ponies uneasily. "From the looks of it, you've got enough firepower to crack the hive wide open."
Thunderball put a hoof on Creme's shoulder. "Look, I'm hoping this goes off without a hitch, but if it doesn't…well, better safe than sorry, right?"
"I suppose," Creme sighed. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt. Even if they're the enemy, they're still my family."
Angry chittering echoed through the tunnels of the hive as Creme Brulee raced away from a swarm of angry changelings clamoring for his blood. Daring Do was nothing more than a dry husk of a pony, while Thunderball and his cousins had been captured and imprisoned so that they could be drained in turn. Now he was the only loose end, one which Queen Chrysalis would be eager to tie up. She would likely make an example of him in front of the hive, a fate he was eager to avoid.
A fellow changeling leapt out at him from the chamber ahead; without even thinking, Creme smashed its skull in with a karate chop. The changeling crumpled like a paper doll, while his greenish–black ichor sprayed against the walls. A good portion of it stuck to Creme's hoof, slowing him down as he ran past the body.
Behind him, the swarm was gaining. He could feel their fangs nipping at his hooves, and lashed out at his pursuers. Both of his rear hooves made contact, and his victims burst like water balloons. Sticky blood coated his rear hooves, further impairing his movement. There was no way he would escape.
Then, suddenly, he had burst out of the hive and was greeted by the night sky. The moon shone brightly overhead, and illuminated a mare as dark as midnight in front of him. She spread her wings as she charged at him, lowering her horn so that she might pierce his heart.
Creme Brulee shot up explosively from his bedroll and was greeted by the sight of the granite outcropping in which they had made camp, with no angry changeling swarms or dark entities in sight. The moon shone brightly above, and the night wind rustled through his wings. If not for the current situation, he would have found it picturesque and calming.
All of the other ponies were asleep, except for Dive Bomb, who was casually skewering a lizard on a tree branch. If not for the movement, Creme would have sworn the thestral was just another rock due to the chameleonskin cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Creme watched a the unfortunate reptile was planted in a small pit, alongside several others. A gentle warmth drifted out of the pit; inside sat several chemical packs which provided heat without illumination.
"Pre–mission jitters?" Dive Bomb patted the ground next to him. "Come on, have a sit. Iguana–on–a–stick?"
Creme numbly accepted a skewer. Juice ran down his muzzle as he sank his fangs into the lizard's crisp skin. The flavor was actually rather indistinct, though Creme eventually decided that it tasted vaguely like fish. It was not terribly appetizing, but it did make him feel better.
"Don't feel bad about it, happens t' everyone. Take me f' instance. I'm right at home playing music f' rich ponies an' seducing secrets out of mares, but put me out in a desert with chupacabra, scorpions, dehydration, an' sand that gets bucking everywhere...well, I haven't been sleeping well either." Dive Bomb tore the head off an iguana and swallowed. "So, you tant t' talk about it?"
"Everypony was dead," Creme shuddered. "And Chrysalis was trying to kill me."
"We don't have t' worry about her getting int' your head or anything via the hive mind, do we?" Dive Bomb noticed Creme tense up, and immediately added, "Not t' imply you're a liability, I'm just not used t' facing enemies with better senses than me."
Creme looked away. "We're still a few miles from the hive, and I've learned to tune it out at any rate. It couldn't have been Chrysalis."
"Good t' know." Dive Bomb held out another iguana as a peace offering.
"I'm full." Creme looked away.
One of the bedrolls shifted, and Daisy poked her head out. "Did somepony mention food?" She caught a glimpse of the lizards and immediately retched. "Oh, that is disgusting."
"What, really?" Dive Bomb stripped the skin clean off his iguana. "I know f' a fact you eat shrimp."
"Yes, but shrimp is not…quadrupedal." She sat down across from the skewers, and held her hooves out towards the heat. "So, are you two carnivores swapping recipes?"
"Just chewing the fat — pardon the expression."
She shook her head and turned to Creme. "You look troubled."
"I feel…" he searched for the right words. "Responsible. For all of this mess."
"What's there t' feel guilty about? If anything, Daisy's the one at fault." Dive Bomb promptly ducked a rock thrown in his direction. "Anyways, Creme, you should be happy that it's ending because of you."
"If we succeed," Creme muttered.
"Of course we will." Dive Bomb gave a carnivorous smile, exposing his gleaming white teeth and sharp fangs. "You're with some of the best in Equestria. Know what ponies used to call groups like us in the old days? Kill–teams. We were sent out to eliminate high value targets, and nothing could stand in our way. Mark my words, we'll grab our pegasus, and be out before Chrysalis knows it." He slapped Creme in the back. "And I'm willing t' bet a good number of bits that you'll be spending a lot of quality time with my cousin if you play your cards right."
Creme felt his cheeks burning. "But I...he's not...is he?"
"You're a changeling. Change it up a little if he isn't."
"I'd rather...I want to be with a pony who I can be comfortable around as myself."
"So ask him an' see what he thinks."
"But what if he says no?"
"Then you get over him an' find somepony else." Dive Bomb looked Creme up and down and smiled again. "Hell, I'd be happy t' try an' improve interspecies relations with you."
Creme's mouth went dry. "What? No!"
"Suit yourself." Dive Bomb drew a flask out of his saddlebags and took a drink. "See? Not that hard."
Daisy facehoofed. "On behalf of my family, I apologize for his existence."
"Don't worry, he's fine. Besides, you'll be meeting mine soon, and, well…"
"Really? You're all related?"
"Well, Chrysalis does lay all the eggs."
"Wouldn't she have t' have a lot of sex with her offspring t' produce an entire hive's worth of changelings?" Dive Bomb whistled. "What a slut."
"I think what my brother is trying to say is that such a policy seems like it would lead to crippling inbreeding."
"Changeling queens used to visit each others' hives and, um, get genetic material from their drones."
"So changeling diplomacy consisted of gangbangs? What a slut."
He ducked as Daisy threw a pebble at him. "Excuse me, did you say 'would'?"
"Remember what I said about Chrysalis developing pod farms? She did it so that her hive wouldn't have to go grazing in Equestria like the others. Instead, she focused on putting out unfertilized eggs, which hatched into male drones. Normally, controlling — well, influencing — a healthy drone requires a certain amount of effort, but Chrysalis found that if she deprived the larvae of nutrients, they grew up to be weaker and less intelligent, but also much easier to control. So she built up her numbers and overran the other hives."
"Ah. Quantity over quality?"
"According to Chrysalis, quantity has a quality of its own."
"Doesn't this mean there's no genetic future f' the hive?"
"I think I am seeing a pattern in poor long–term planning."
"You know, before I left, I heard Chrysalis was researching the possibility of fertilizing her eggs with, um, ponies."
"...please tell me you are not implying that she had any interest in Prince Armor outside of disabling Canterlot's defenses."
"What a slut."
Eerie blue crystals bathed Chrysalis's throne room in unholy light as she floated in the center of an rune circle. Around her, the few changelings with talent for arcane magic sat in meditation, as green energy poured out of their horns and into her's. Her eyes glowed white as she spread her wings and rose to the top of the room. The scarab amulet worn around her neck hummed with power.
Without even setting foot outside, she knew the exact position of the sun, and could feel, in excruciating detail, the currents of aether that flowed around it. Waves of light and gravity propagated through the aether, until they reached the terrestrial sphere. In that instant, Chrysalis knew why the sun and moon were managed; their planet was tidally locked. If left to nature, one side would perpetually face the sun's unrelenting fury, while the other would be condemned to neverending winter. Without intervention, their moon would be trapped in a geosynchronous orbit, perpetually hovering over the zebra lands.
Celestia and Luna had greatly changed the way the heavens worked in order to make Equestria habitable for their subjects. Now it was Chrysalis's turn to do the same. Chrysalis reached out with her expanded consciousness and reshaped the aetherial currents. The forces of nature that were normally transmitted through the aether were now subject to her whims; she, not Celestia, now controlled the sun.
Chrysalis smiled. Life in the hive was about to change.