Fallout Equestria: Alphabet soup

by Doomande

Changeling: Green light by Salted Pingas

A unicorn and a pegasus trotted casually across the barren wastes where nothing grew.

Both were dressed in business casualwear, the unicorn sporting a conservative dark dress and a sapphire pendant while the pegasus wore a gray vest with a collared shirt and tie. The very distinct jingle jangle of equestrian bits could be heard within the pegasus’ heavy saddlebags as he trotted along.

“Think they see us yet?” the unicorn’s azure eyes remained focused on the jagged spires rising from the wastes before them. Some of her worry leaked out in her tone, though she did her best to hide it behind the indifferent look on her face.

“If I were them I’d have disguised scouts deployed all around the perimeter,” the pegasus replied, taking a moment to adjust his heavy saddlebags with a goldish-gray wing, “Who knows if they’re really that smart, though? I’d bet against it any day.”

A flash of green light was followed by a sneering hiss as a scraggly brush flashed into a scraggly changeling drone off to their right, “You’d lose that bet, pony!”

The unicorn jumped with a startled whinny, holding a hoof to her breast as she struggled to recover from the scare. But the pegasus stopped and turned to face the drone with a thin smile, his posture relaxed as he replied.

“Well worth it to make you reveal yourself and prove my theory right,” the pegasus’ smile split into a grin as the drone’s ocelli shot wide, then narrowed as the creature let out a soft hiss, “I wouldn’t have known for sure otherwise, so thank you.”

“Damnit, Pincer!” there was another flash of changeling magic from behind the ponies as a rock was revealed to be another drone. This one, however, sported the darker coloration and crimson highlights of an elite drone as it stalked up to the ponies, “Report back to the hive at once!”

“But, sir!” Pincer whined.

“The only butt’s going to be yours on a platter if you don’t do as you’re told!” the elite drone hissed back, not taking his eyes off the equines, “Hive! Now!”

“Yes, sir,” Pincer pouted, departing on a buzz of wings.

“What are you doing here?!” the elite drone’s violet eyes glared at the equines, his stance low and ready for a fight.

“Good afternoon to you too,” the pegasus countered with a thin smile, starting to step forwards, “I’m—”

The changeling spat, a green glob stopping the pegasus in his tracks as it stuck his forelegs to the ground. The unicorn let out another startled whinny, a look of surprise splashing across the pegasus’ face as he caught himself.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here!?” the changeling hissed out, his sharp horn glowing in warning and his wings cocked and ready, “Last chance before you become pony chow.”

“Please excuse my brother,” the unicorn stepped quickly in front of the pegasus where she gave a stately bow, “My name is Pumpkin Cake, we’re here to bring peace between Equestria and your hive,” Pumpkin raised herself back up to face the changeling, “Perhaps you could escort us to your queen so we might make our case?”

The changeling’s ocelli remained narrowed, hiding whatever emotions lurked beneath the creature’s features. The violet orbs darted from one pony to the other for a careful moment before the warning light of his horn faded and he stood up straight.

“What’s in the saddlebags?” the Changeling asked, dropping the hostility in his tone down a notch.

“Payday,” the pegasus smiled.

The unicorn shot a scowl back over her withers before addressing the changeling, “Equestria’s offer of peace comes with a bonus of one million bits,” Pumpkin paused as if expecting the Changeling to react in some way. When he didn’t, she continued, “We’ve brought a goodwill fee today, five thousand bits all freshly minted.” She gave her brother’s saddlebags a quick pat for emphasis, “It’s the most we could easily carry in one trip. The full million would weigh well over a ton.”

The changeling chewed over her words for a silent moment.

“Stand over there,” the changeling ordered, a hole-filled hoof jabbing off to the pegasus’ side, “Turn away from me and your brother.”

“We come in peace!” Pumpkin looked suddenly uncertain, “You’re not going to hurt us, are you?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” the changeling scowled until Pumpkin replied with a nervous gulp and complied.

The changeling trotted around to the pegasus’ side, keeping Pumpkin in his line of sight as he pulled open one of the saddlebags. True to their word, the bag was brimming with golden coins.

“You’re Pharynx, right?” the pegasus’ words earned a startled look from the changeling, the first crack in his otherwise stalwart demeanor. Pharynx recovered quickly enough, hoofing only briefly through the bits before closing up the bag, “Head of hive security if I’m not mistaken.”

“And you’re Pound Cake,” Pharynx countered, though if Pound Cake was surprised by the changeling’s knowledge, he hid it well. “Primary liaison between the Ministry of Awesome and the Ministry of Morale.”

“I guess we’d both ace our pop quizzes on a who's who of who's,” Pound Cake replied as Pharynx checked his other saddlebag, rifling quickly through the coins, “Though maybe after this I can data dump everything I know about you and put my focus back where it belongs on the Zebras. I expect you’ll be able to do the same.”

Pharynx made a sound that was a cross between a hissing chuckle and a noncommittal grunt. With a flash of Pharynx’s horn, the goop holding Pound’s forelegs in place liquified, letting him pull his hooves free.

“Start walking. No funny business,” Pharynx gestured with a hoof for the ponies to lead.

* * * * *

A pungent, earthy scent like a mixture of mildew and wet moss assailed the twins’ nostrils as an orifice of a door irised open in the hive’s otherwise solid face. Their ears twitched at the low buzzing sound emanating from somewhere deep in the heart of the hive, the darkness within watching them.

“Keep moving,” Pharynx spoke up from behind them, his voice low but even.

“I was going to say ‘After you,’” Pound smiled as he trotted in, earning a sharp look from his sister. The apologetic look she threw back at Pharynx was deflected by his emotionless mask.

More and more changelings appeared in the shifting hallways and corridors, always watching with softs hisses or with silent and unreadable expressions. They made way for the small procession, guided aside by silent glares from Pharynx.

Pharynx guided the ponies with curt orders of “Left” and “Right” and “Up” and “Down” until they were certain he was deliberately taking them in circles.

“That’s the third time I’ve seen that stalactite,” Pound said with a grin as they passed through a wide chamber, “or is it a stalagmite?” he queried, pausing for a moment, “I hope you’re not lost in your own hive, Pharynx.”

“You got someplace else you need to be?” the changeling grumbled back, then ordered: “Right.”

“I had a spa day planned in Ponyville, actually, go see how the old folks are doing and all that. War doesn’t leave much time to visit,” Pound replied, sending his grin back over his withers, “You’re welcome to tag along with me when we’re done here. You could get your holes done, my treat of course.”

Pharynx let out a low hiss that could’ve been anything from a sound of mirth to a sound of disgust, his ocelli and firm jawline giving nothing away. He only guided the ponies in circles for a few more minutes before a final doorway opened up into the grand throne room.

The interior was rather dark, only a few glowing pods shedding a dull light on the wicked throne of the changeling queen. Of the queen herself, there was no sign...until a pair of glowing, green eyes snapped open against the dark rock of the throne. The eyes narrowed as the slitted pupils dilated in the darkness, snapping from one equine to the next as the queen of the changelings stepped forth into the soft glow of light emanating from above. A wicked smile displayed a set of glistening fangs and a serpentine tongue that flicked out to taste the damp air.

“Oh,” Chrysalis cooed as her hole-filled limbs carried her forwards to where the ponies and Pharynx were waiting, “You’ve brought me something nice for lunch, Pharynx. So very thoughtful of you.”

“A-a-actually, we’re here on a diplomatic mission from Equestria!” Pumpkin struggled to get her words out, backing up into Pharynx’s suddenly raised forehoof. Even Pound’s carefree demeanor flickered into the spectrum of fear as the queen towered over them, her head dropping low to appraise them like a mare reading the label of a fine wine, “We’d like to sue for peace!”

“Sharp ammonia and chlorine, the scents of terror...” Chrysalis didn’t seem to hear the mare’s words, though her sharp face lifted away from them and her dark lips pressed into a thin smile, “It is good to know that the ponies of Equestria still fear me so.” She turned her dark haunches to the ponies as she stepped slowly back to her throne, “Speak!” she called without turning.

Pharynx ushered the ponies forwards as Chrysalis ascended her throne. Pumpkin had to struggle with her words a moment before she managed to wrangle them away from the clutches of her fear.

“My brother and I were born just a year before the war broke out,” a flat expression spilled across Chrysalis’ face, annoyance raising one lip in a silent snarl, “it’s practically all we’ve ever known. But you-you’ve known this world for well over a century, the everlasting peace in the years before. Those years were good for you as well, were they not?”

“Those were hungry years,” Chrysalis spoke in a low voice.

“Doesn’t look like you’re doing much better, now.” Pound managed to grin, a hoof pointed upwards to the scattering of pony-filled pods far above. A mixture of worry and terror spilled across Pumpkin’s face at her brother’s words, but Chrysalis allowed a wry grin that showed off her fangs, a mirthless chuckle emanating from within her throat.

“What is your offer?” she addressed the buck, eyes moving languidly over his saddlebags.

“One million bits,” Pound answered, a sharp clack sounding as he undid a strap around his belly. He loosened the saddlebags before dropping them to the ground, “These are for you.”

Chrysalis lit up her jagged horn and the saddlebags floated over to her. A strap popped open and Pumpkin tensed as Chrysalis peered inside before setting them down beside her. Her wry grin melded back into a firm, but contemplative line.

“A little light to be one million,” Chrysalis remarked, her serpentine eyes settling back on the pegasus, “You’re certain you didn’t forget a few dozen ponies somewhere outside?”

“That right there’s only five thousand, the most we could carry easily on the scenic hike over here,” Pound waved a hoof to the bags, “Consider it a goodwill check. The rest will come after we’ve left, provided we reach an accord that satisfies both parties.”

“And what is it that dearest Luna and her precious Ministry Mares want from me?” Chrysalis’ words dripped with sarcastic venom, “A letter to all of Equestria about how I’m oh so sorry that they’re our one guarenteed food source? Or perhaps a heartfelt little apology and some flowers to Twilight about her brother?”

“Hay, I was gonna settle for a back rub but if you promise to do all that—oof!” the wind went out of him as Chrysalis made a quick gesture with one wing, Pharynx driving the pony to the cold ground. The elite drone’s tongue tickled softly again Pound’s ear as he let out a warning hiss.

“Pound!” Pumpkin released a frightened whinny, trotting a few quick steps back as her eyes darted from Pound Cake to Chrysalis, “No! Please! He didn’t mean that!” Chrysalis ignored the mare’s pleading words as her narrowed eyes bored into the pegasus.

“Do not overstep,” Chrysalis intoned, another quick gesture freeing Pound Cake.

“My apologies, your highness,” Pound smiled as he took a quick moment to brush himself off, “What we would like from you is simple: nothing,” Chrysalis’ lip raised warningly, “For you to do nothing in this war,” Pound added with a hint of haste, “Ignore whatever offer the Zebras gave you back on the third and cancel your invasion plans this coming week,” Pound’s lips pulled back in a thin smile at the startled flinch that elicited from Chrysalis, “If I may be so bold: you were better off giving the third attempt another shot. The strawberry angle certainly needed some work and replacing those media hounds could have gone more smoothly if you’d just waited...but I digress.

“Stay out of this war, your highness,” Pound Cake continued, “We won’t ask that you pull back your feeders or even give back the ponies in your larder,” he sent another gesture towards the pods hanging from the ceiling, “All we ask is that you stand back and let us win this war so we can all go back to business as usual as quickly as possible.”

Chrysalis let out a thoughtful, “Hmm,” as she regarded the ponies cooly.

“And then what?” Pharynx surprised Pound as he spoke up from behind.

“Pardon?” Pound recovered from his surprise quickly enough, half turning to face the elite drone.

“After the war, then what?” Pharynx asked evenly.

Pound turned to Chrysalis as if expecting her to strike him down for speaking out of turn, but the queen’s thoughtful expression remained unchanged. If anything, she had perked up at Pharynx’s words, the thoughts swirling beneath her skull shifting towards a less savory spectrum for the ponies.

“Well, as I said: business as usual,” Pound turned back to Pharynx, hoping that would settle the matter, “We go about our lives, you go about yours.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe,” Pharynx gave a slight shake of his head, “You can’t truly believe that anything will go back to ‘normal’ after this war is over.” Pharynx took a moment to think before he continued. “Let’s say you beat the Zebras. Equestria will have proven itself to be the world’s greatest superpower, unmatched by any other across the globe. Your people won’t go back to farming and wearing silly, golden armor. You’re already past that all now.” He waved a chitin hoof at the siblings as if their mere presence proved a point. “No, my bet’s on you all coming back down here with further terms in mind. This time you came with a pitiful excuse of a gift...I mean come on, really? What use do we have for equestrian currency?”

“Trickle it into the pockets of your feeders so they can—” Pound began to offer.

“Be quiet!” Pharynx cut in, with a sharp hiss. “My point is this: ponies don’t like being afraid of things. What you fear you try to change and when that fails you try to destroy. Once the Zebras are no longer a threat, where do we fit in on that spectrum and what are you going to do about it? Turn your megaspells on us? Take a Zebra balefire launcher and point it at our hive? Tongue the trigger when we refuse to surrender because surrender means starvation and death!?”

“I don’t see why we can’t come to some sort of arrangement wherein—” Pumpkin started to speak up.

“So change us it is, then?” Pharynx cut her off with a glare, “No. No, I think the Zebras that came here put it far more succinctly than I ever could. They said that, from our perspective: ‘the enemy of my food is my friend.’”

“If all it took to persuade you to join them was some simple wordplay then I’m afraid we’ve greatly overestimated your intelligence,” Pound said with a sudden scowl.

“Oh no, they offered us quite the opportunity!” Pharynx bore his fangs with a vicious smile. “They want Luna’s head to roll. Not my first choice, but who am I to judge?” His wings buzzed in the equivalent to a shrug, “But Celestia, the Ministry Mares, and their families? Any number of high ranking officials and members of the royalty who don’t bow to Caesar after his forces march through Canterlot? Let’s just say they know it would be a waste to put all those ponies to death when we can...repurpose them.”

“Sweet Celestia…” Pumpkin took a step back, looking a little green.

“Sweet Celestia indeed,” Chrysalis let out a quick chuckle from her throne, forehooves tapping together lightly, “She will be quite the little treat. An immortal well of love energy, a feast for all eternity...if we don’t decide to just drain her outright and discard the husk.”

“Ah,” Pound smiled grimly, looking back at the changeling queen, “So you’ve already made up your minds, then.”

“My Pharynx does make a good point, does he not?” Chrysalis smiled back.

“Pound…” Pumpkin shot a glance towards the queen, taking a careful step back towards the room’s entryway.

“I know, Pumpkin,” Pound didn’t move, turning from Pharynx to Chrysalis, “I suppose we’ll be taking our leave, then?”

“We came here under a flag of truce!” Pumpkin added, looking between the changelings, “According to the poneva conventions—”

“Your brother here knows quite a bit about our operations,” Pharynx cut her off, “I’m sure he knows quite a bit more about Equestria’s operations. The Zebras would certainly appreciate it if we turned him—”

A sharp buck from Pound Cake caught the changeling square in the jaw, sending him sprawling with a wince onto the hard floor. Chrysalis raised a singular brow as the pony put the changeling into a headlock before he could recover, dragging his stunned form back towards the door.

“Really?” Chrysalis didn’t budge, “You honestly expect to make your way out of here just like that?”

“Get behind me, Pumpkin!” Pound Cake ordered, his sister letting out another whinny as she hopped to it. Within his grasp, Pharynx was starting to recover from the stars swirling across his vision, a sharp scowl taking his features.

“You really didn’t think this through, did you?” Pharynx growled.

“Quite the con—” Pound was cut short as the Changeling’s horn flashed, his form erupting upwards and knocking Pound back as he transformed. Pumpkin cantered back with a yelp, staring up in horror at the massive, multi-limbed creature Pharynx had become. Pound Cake shook himself off, stepping back as Pharynx kept pace.

“What do you think happens if we don’t walk out of here?” Pound flared his wings in an unconscious attempt to look bigger, “If you think—”

“Oh, you’ll walk out of here…” Pharynx’s new form lended him a deeper baritone that rumbled through the air, powerful enough to be felt reverberating within the ponies chests, “You might be a little late to your spa date, but I think we’ll manage to find a pair of drones to replace you.” Pharynx grinned, his more massive form making the gesture all the more terrifying, “Perhaps I’ll be the one to do it.”

“W-well, if you do, just be sure to keep the little plant on my desk watered,” Pound shot back with forced bravado, “I’d hate to see it…” he trailed off as he bumped into Pumpkin, taking his eyes off the hulking behemoth in front of him to see that their way out of the throne room was shut tight behind him.

“Changeling hive, remember?” Pharynx taunted, globs of drool dripping from his maw onto the floor, “Time to say goodbye to your sister, Pound Cake.”

Pound Cake grinned, “Time to say goodbye to your mother, love-sucker!”

Pharynx let out a rumbling chuckle, “What?”

The timed satchel charges in Pound Cake’s saddlebags answered with a resounding BOOM! that turned five thousand freshly minted bits into five thousand pieces of golden shrapnel.

Pharynx let out an ear-splitting shriek, his massive form shielding the ponies from the fragmentation. The blast wave from the explosion, contained in such a small space, still made them wince back as it washed over them. All three crumpled to the ground, clutching at their ears as a dull ringing stole away all sound.

Pound Cake was the first to get up, shaking off the wobbliness in his head as he peered past Pharynx’s slumped form. He stared just long enough to see that the throne had been reduced to rubble and the queen of the Changelings reduced to an unrecognisable carcass, then turned to Pumpkin.

“Pumpkin! Pumpkin!” he called against the tinnitus, helping her up and lifting the now-glowing sapphire of the necklace to her eyes, “Magic’s back! Time to go!”

Her woozy look solidified as her eyes beheld the necklace, nodding as she lit up her horn with a wince. “We weren’t supposed to be this close…” she grimaced, her voice a hundred miles away.

“Mother!” Pound Cake whirled about at the screech, watching as Pharynx dragged his battered body across the floor, leaving a trail of blood. He let out a sharp, miserable scream, his horn flaring as his form collapsed a little, a few pieces of golden shrapnel popping out of his wounds.

“Ah, shit,” Pound turned back to Pumpkin, watching her glowing horn and pained expression. A sudden, sharp screech dragged both of them screaming to their knees, Pound Cake whirling back around to see an almost normal-sized Pharynx cradling Chrysalis’ remains.

A replying screech reverberated throughout the changeling hive, sifting dust down from the ceiling as an almighty buzz began to rush through a number of holes opening in the walls of the throne room.

With another pulse of changeling magic, Pharynx was back in his natural form, a final set of golden coins popping out of his wounds...wounds that were now little more than pinpricks in his chitinous hide.

“I hate changeling magic,” Pound Cake grumbled, turning to Pumpkin, “Just get us close!” he called over the buzz, watching as she lit her horn again and concentrated on her spell. He turned back to Pharynx as the livid drone picked himself back up, turning to them with a burning look in his violet ocelli, his black lips pulled back in a mixture of hatred and anguish, “Hurry!”

“You’re going to die slow,” Pharynx intoned, wincing in pain as his horn lit up and his collision barrier flared to life in front of him. His wings buzzed as he let out a furious cry, flying straight at the ponies with nothing short of murder on his mind.

Pound Cake braced himself, the changeling striking him in the same instant that Pumpkin’s horn flashed.

All three creatures vanished...

* * * * *

...then reappeared with another bright flash on the outskirts of the wasteland around the changeling hive.

Pharynx’s momentum carried with him, sending Pound Cake sprawling in the dirt, wincing as he felt a rib crack.

“Pound!” Pumpkin yelped as Pharynx continued past the pegasus, narrowly missing her as he scrubbed at his face with a chitinous hoof, dazed from the flash of magic. Her horn lit up as she turned to him—

“No! Go!” Pound winced, rolling onto his hooves and cementing himself, “I’ll take care of our little bug problem.”

Pharynx turned with a snarl, spittle flying from his fanged maw as Pumpkin disappeared in another flash of magic. His manic eyes feasted on Pound Cake, another shriek of anguish and hatred heralding his next attack run.

Pound Cake leapt up over Pharynx as he rocketed into the dirt where the pegasus had been, gouging a hole in the earth. The pegasus landed on unsteady hooves, wincing as he touched a wingtip to his side.

Pharynx dislodged himself with a snarl, coming at the pegasus with his hard hooves and sharp fangs, little more than a rabid animal. Pound Cake put up a stalwart defense, taking more blows and bites that he gave until the changeling over-extended and a swift strike to the changeling’s jaw sent him sprawling.

Pound followed up quickly with a set of lightning-fast strikes to the head, battering the changeling down until a swift kick caught him in the gut. The changeling shot up as he reeled and gagged, his jaws clamping shut on Pound’s shoulder and his fangs injecting thrall venom into Pound’s pumping bloodstream.

The pegasus managed to shove the changeling off of him before stumbling back, a growing sense of tranquility trying to steal away his mind as the venom did its work. Pharynx pulled back, breathing hard and grinning cruelly as blood continued to trickle from his shrapnel wounds.

Pound Cake stumbled forwards, swinging a hoof that was easily dodged. He just needed to focus, fight off the venom for a little bit longer, keep the adrenaline flowing. Pharynx just stepped away from his weakening strikes, smiling knowingly as he let the venom run its course. One of his chitinous hooves finally lifted to catch a final strike from Pound’s, holding it as if they were about to dance.

“Kneel,” Pharynx spat.

Pound tried to fight off the command, biting down on his lip and trying to lock out his joints, but a cool bliss had seeped into his mind and his legs were oh, so tired...he crumpled to his knees.

“Good,” Pharynx almost cooed, “I’m going to drain you now, and then I’m going to find your sister, and then your family,” he leaned in close and whispered like a lover, “They’re going to die slow.”

“I’ll tell Chrysalis you said hi, love-sucker!” Pound managed to choke out, but he could only watch and squirm as Pharynx’s jaws snapped open, the soft light of his love-energy flowing into the creature’s waiting jaws. A hole began to burn in his chest, his heart fluttering as the changeling fed, the little holes in his hide closing up as the love energy healed him.

Then they reopened to the sound of machine gun fire, the changeling crumpling with a shriek.

“Over here!” a gruff, tinny voice called out, the heavy sounds of hooves plodding over the dirt heralding the arrival of a pair of steel rangers, one of them wearing a pair of light machine guns in his armor’s battle saddle. This ranger stopped to cover Pharynx’s still form, watching as his black sides rose and fell with shallow, wheezing breaths. The other came to a stop beside Pound Cake, “Sir! Are you all right?”

“Pound!” Pumpkin nearly collapsed into the dirt in front of him, pulling herself up as she caught her breath, “I...I came...fast as—”

“Ven...nom!” Pound forced out, the wing attached to his bitten shoulder twitching.

Pumpkin nodded, pulling out an autoinjector from the second Ranger’s medical supply box and jabbing it into Pound’s neck. The antivenom worked surprisingly fast, clearing the miasma from Pound’s mind and letting him think freely once more. He took an offered healing potion and gulped it down as Pumpkin finished catching her breath, throwing her hooves around him after he’d finished.

“Came as fast as we could!” she pulled back, looking him over, “Thought you were a goner when I saw him draining you!”

“Pinkie Pie?” Pound queried carefully, an eyebrow raised.

“Flour sack,” he breathed easier as Pumpkin said the words.

“Changeling’s still moving!” the first Ranger called, drawing everypony’s attention to Pharynx as he began to crawl back towards the distant hive.

“He won’t be for much longer,” Pound waved the Steel Ranger back, stepping up and pinning the changeling in place with a hoof. Pharynx let out a mixture of a warble and a gurgle, slumping under Pound’s hoof.

“You don’t want to go there,” he chided, waving the Steel Ranger over and gesturing to his radio, “we’re about to do some renovating now that our magical weapons and armor work here. After all, I can’t possibly leave those ponies in your larder behind and you yourself have shown why I can’t just let your hive live out the rest of the war in peace.”

“Please…” Pharynx wheezed, but Pound turned to the Steel Ranger.

“Your orders, sir?” the Steel Ranger asked as he passed Pound the hoofset for the radio.

“All callsigns, this is Mother Bird,” Pound called over the radio, “you may proceed, I say again: you have green light to proceed. Happy hunting. Out.”

“Don’t…” Pharynx let out a wet cough, blood splattering in the dirt before him.

“You were right, Pharynx,” Pound Cake stepped back from the changeling, lifting a wing to cover his eyes as a Raptor rumbled into view, a swarm of skytanks and vertibucks all around it. In answer, a large, black swarm was billowing up out of the changeling hive, “We are past all that now.”

The Raptor and its swarm opened fire.

Author's Note:

By Salted Pingas