Shedding

by Cyning Horsa

Late News

There were few nightclubs in Equestria as fine as Banana Cream's, not that she had much competition; even in Las Pegasus-Equestria's seediest of cities-there were only a handful to choose from. But between them, Banana Cream's was by far the best-known and best-liked. It had everything a pony might need, from drinks to dances. A good few of Equestria's big names in jazz had started humble careers playing some instrument or another on Banana Cream's Jazz Band, from Legstrong to Ellingdun. The bar's drinks were exactly what a pony (and, in one odd case, a draconequus and a baby dragon) needed when he wanted a little something to soothe the throat.

And drinks Rustic Rumor needed. After a long day of work as a showstallion at Film-Flam Bros. Luxury Resort and Hotel, where he dazzled and amazed crowds with his ventriloquist comedy act, his throat was sore from the strain of it all.

He, his back loaded with saddlebags, entered the club as the last rays of the sun turned their harshest and most vibrant of golds, lighting his own vibrant red coat. Leaving his saddlebags at the door where they would be picked up later, Rustic sighed hoarsely in relief, the weight suddenly gone from his withers. He then made his way towards the bar and sat down on one of the stools.

"Uh, another day, another bit," he groaned in a tired, dry voice as his sore hooves were spared from carrying his weight any further. A pony with a yellow coat and a healthy brown mustache drew near to him.

"Hi, Rustic! Another rough day, huh?"

Sam was the bartender at Banana Cream's and had been for as long as the mare herself had owned the place and was a familiar sight to Rustic.

"Yeah," smiled Rustic, "but a rough day for my voice means an easy day for my wallet!"

The exchange was one they'd had with each other many nights since Rustic moved to Las Pegasus over eight months ago and it was one that Rustic enjoyed. It meant that his day was over and his night had begun. With a flick of his horn, Rustic reached into his saddlebags and pulled three bits out.

"One chocolate milkshake, straight," he ordered, placing the bits on the bar. Sam nodded with a smile and turned around, reaching for the cups to begin making it. Rustic turned around and leaned his back against the bar with a sigh. His shoulders, like most of him, ached from standing up all day and it felt nice to flex his muscles in different positions after such a while. Having nothing to do while waiting for his drink, Rustic turned his green eyes to the dance floor.

This early in the evening, it was a lonely place, with Celestia's dying sun shining a harsh evening beam on the empty stage through the window and only a small spattering of ponies in booths here and there. Later, however, the lights would come on and brighten the stage, onto which Banana Cream herself would step, with her yellow-orange coat and fur collar drawing attention to her orchid-hued eyes. From there, she'd sing a song or two with her lovely voice and then turn the stage over to her jazz band while she mingled with her guests.

Seeing as his skill in ventriloquy stemmed from his childhood interest in the spoken word, Rustic had an appreciation for voices. Banana Cream's, in his mind, was the loveliest he'd ever heard in all his life. It was a deep and soulful but unmistakably that of a young mare, uttering such perfect lows as to rumble in his chest and such lovely highs as to sooth his brain. He sighed at the thought of her. Ever since his first night, Banana Cream (and the milkshakes) were the highlight of his day.

Rustic's daydreaming was broken by a purple hoof waving in the air from a booth nearest the stage. Looking in that direction, Rustic recognized Grapevine, his friend of about three years who had connected him with Flim and Flam. He had met Grapevine at the house of a 'mutual friend' who had introduced the two to each other. Ever since then, Grapevine regularly stopped over in Las Pegasus for visits.

Perking up, Rustic turned to Sam. "Hey, Sam, bring my milkshake to that booth when you're done," he requested, pointing at the booth. The yellow bartender, who was halfway finished with the shake, nodded.

"Grapevine! It's been forever since I've seen you buddy!" Once at the booth, Rustic stretched his hoof out in greeting, to which Grapevine's own purple hoof bumped.

"How've ya been, Grape? Did ya finally ask that mare out?" he asked as he took a seat opposite his green-maned friend, his rump sinking gently into the soft leather. Grapevine's ears flopped and his eyes lowered sadly. Rustic's mood soured instantly.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a lower voice.

"Well..." the purple pegasus pony paused for a moment to think, gently clapping his hooves together. "I got fired from my job in Manehattan." Rustic gasped but said nothing. "Once I couldn't pay the rent, I came here to see if I could get a job here."

Rustic's response was cut off by Sam coming with his drink. "One chocolate milkshake, straight," Sam announced professionally as the beverage was freed from his magical grip onto the table. Taking a moment to thank Sam, Rustic turned back to Grapevine.

"Do you have a place to stay?" he asked tentatively, hoping quietly that he said no. If he said yes, that meant....

"No."

Rustic's heart leapt in his chest and he breathed sharply in, taking an excited sip of his milkshake. The taste and texture of his milkshake were for once lost on the red pony.

"Alright. Let's get back to my apartment."

---

Rustic's apartment, while far from the finest penthouse, was decently-sized. Placed on the fourth floor of his complex on the corner, Rustic had a decent view of the city center, shining brightly even in though nightswathed. His salary from Flim and Flam had been well-spent, furnishing him with comfy leather chairs, a coffee table, and a stove. However, decently-sized as it was, Rustic started to feel a little cramped now that Grapevine stood in his living room, looking the city in the distance over.

Casting a spell of silence on the walls of his apartment and lowering the shades with his magic, Rustic approached Grapevine, whose worried face had since hardened.

"What brings you to Los Pegasus, Trochanter?" 'Grapevine' turned to face 'Rustic,' upon which heatless green flames rose from his hooves, his body fur burning off and being replaced with sleek black carapace. His dark pink eyes became pupilless light blue and sharp fangs and a horn grew from where they once were not.

'Rustic' did the same and soon the two changelings stood, their disguises shed.

"You said that you 'needed a place to stay.' That could only mean that the Queen herself sent you!" What Coxa said was true; such a phrase, when said by one changeling in disguise to another, meant that a mission of utmost importance needed to be discussed elsewhere, preferably in private. Such missions could only come from the Queen.

"I haven't seen an envoy in four months! I thought you guys were supposed check on us infiltrators every two weeks on the nose!" Coxa rebuked the elder changeling frustratedly. "What happened?" Trochanter's eyes narrowed.

"The traitor Thorax and those pesky ponies happened, that's what!" Trochanter hissed harshly. Coxa's eyes widened.

He remembered Thorax, the weakling from Brood 7. Coxa and a few of his broodmates used to pick on him for playing with dolls instead of learning how to fight like everyone else. He knew Thorax was yellow-bellied and spineless, yes, but Coxa had never thought that he'd betray the hive!

"What?!" Coxa said in shock. Trochanter nodded fiercely.

"After the Queen captured the pony Princesses and their lackeys, Thorax lead the God of Chaos and Princess Twilight Sparkle's student straight to the hive and overthrew her."

"What?!" Coxa said again, slightly louder this time. His rage was building. Thorax had actually grown a spine and what had he done with it? He had turned all of the time and attention the Queen had put into him and had thrown it right back in her face.

"Worse, most of the hive turned on her right with him!" Trochanter continued

"WHAT?!" Coxa yelled. Coxa was truly stunned by this news. The hive, every one of them, had been raised by the Queen from birth. Aside from the hunger, she had been the one constant in their lives, their one shining light in the darkness in a life of starvation and misery. And for them to just turn on her...It was unthinkable.

Trochanter nodded sagely. "I can't believe it either, but the Queen told me herself when I met her. And if she said it, it must be true."

Coxa gasped in shock. Their Queen was not one to admit defeat lightly. "What do we do, Trochanter?"

At that, the elder changeling gained a sinister smirk and his featureless blue eyes narrowed.

"That's why I'm here." Taking a seat in one of Coxa's chairs, Trochanter began to explain.

"The Queen wants Thorax taken down so that she can retake her rightful place as Queen. To do that, however, she's ordered us to infiltrate the hive and sabotage it from within." He pounded one hoof into another to punctuate his sentence.

Coxa spent a moment to take this in. His fury at Thorax abided a little, replaced with thought. "How are we going to do that?" The hive didn't have many machines to break and no changeling in it would forget to recognize the work of a saboteur on the gears of their society. He and Trochanter would be noticed rather quickly.

Trochanter did not seem to share Coxa's concern, for he rose from his chair, his sinister smirk spreading into a toothy grin.

"Captain Pharynx is how."

Author's Note:

It's just a story that I'll update when I feel like it. I hope you guys like it! Any criticism is welcome.