Conversion

by CrutioAstarothChaos

Insectoids of war

Celestia slowly took another sip of her tea, as she listened to the continuous rumbling of her younger sister. Her face remained as stoic as it was throughout the ages, shielding any emotion deep beneath.

“It was here sister, we could feel it!” Luna said, tapping a hoof on the table between them, as if the gesture would give more power to her words.

“And what do you propose we do with this changeling of yours?” Celestia asked. “Neither of us knows its location, and so far nopony have reported any signs of changelings.”

“We know sister, and we are in possession of the knowledge that all of Equestria have heard of them as well,” Luna replied. “Still, it was only one, even if his presence was somewhat faint. What if there are more, and they cloak themselves from us? What if we managed to catch one unlucky bug, that got a bit too careless?”

“Did you spy on the dreams of the changeling queen, when she was in Canterlot?” her elder sister asked back, and she shook her head in response. “I guessed you didn’t. And yet everything turned out fine. If we survived one invasion, thanks to the elements and my nephew, I’m sure they would think twice before trying to invade us again.”

“I hope thou art right, our sister,” Luna said, still concerned. “But if thou dost not mind, we would like to keep our eyes open still.”

“Do as you wish, my dear Luna,” Celestia replied, drinking the last drops of her tea. “I’ll just go about my royal duties as I always have been.”

Buzzer woke up to the worst headache a changeling could ever imagine. And if it wouldn’t have been enough, his limbs were sore, probably from him hugging his pillow tighter than a boa constricting its prey. And to put the frosting on his cake, it was Saturday.

The busiest day of their week, as Pinkie said.

The shifter let out a long and loud groan, letting everypony in the room know of his poor state.

“Ate too many muffins?” Pinkie inquired compassionately. “Happens to me all the time!”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replied. “Had nightmares.”

“Oh, I just use the old ‘Giggle at the ghosties’ in my dreams, and it always works!” she replied laughing.

Even when the princess of dreams is out there to rip your hide off of your living flesh? He asked in his head, but kept quiet as he got up to make himself presentable for work.

The changeling locked himself in the bathroom, and dropped his disguise. He hooked a towel onto the doorknob, preventing anypony to peek in through the keyhole. The only way somepony might have seen him was through the window, but the curtains took care of that. He climbed into the bathtub, and levitating the shower above himself he opened the warm flow of water.

Buzzer loved the showers. Changelings only had small boiling ponds of thermal water in their caves, and even those were less than comfortable to stay in after a few minutes. But the shower? It was like music to the changeling, whose chitin surface was more sensitive than one would’ve believed. The rapping of the water on his hide was almost like a concert, but instead of only hearing the music, he could also feel it vibrating on his skin. He usually considered these sermons of showering a weakness, but when he was standing under the artificial warm rain, he couldn’t help but enjoy it, and leaving every feel of guilt in a distant cavern of his mind.

Thorax on the other hand had his doubts about showering ever again.

“I wanna brush his mane!” a small cream earth pony under the name of Well Mess yelled, standing on Thorax’s back. “We agreed that you do his tail, and I do his mane!”

“But I changed my mind!” His partner, a chestnut colored unicorn filly squealed. “I wanna do his mane!”

“Hmph,” Mess replied, but seeing the pleading eyes of the other foal he gave in. “Fine. But you owe me Muddy.”

The otherwise quite coltish unicorn filly, otherwise known as Mudbath, let out a happy cheer, and changed places with her colleague. Zaffre in any other case would’ve been proud of the foal, as she used her coltish side to sometimes intimidate others, or just win an argument, and yet when those methods failed she was always read to use either her natural charm or other feminine tricks to achieve her goal. The disguised shifter saw her as somewhat similar to a changeling, but right now, her presence was most infuriating.

The two foals have decided that they would give him the spa experience of a lifetime. Mentally listing the things needed for a spa experience, Thorax already counted a high number of items missing. The hot water tubs, the comfortable beds and any kind of oil or other massage equipment, proper shampoos and brushes, and of course the years of training.

This day is going to be so long. He thought to himself.

An hour later a soaking wet blue pegasus stepped out of the bathroom of the orphanage. Zaffre did his best to contain his embarrassment and anger, but the disappointed expression crept onto his face. Some of the foals noticed, and moved quietly out of his way. He simply went into his room, and closed his door. After a quick check whether there was anypony in his room, he dropped his disguise, grabbed a towel with his magic and dried himself. Even though chitin wasn’t like fur, and so water never really soaked changelings, Zaffre felt highly uncomfortable being even a tiny bit wet. In the changeling hive it wasn’t really required to bathe regularly, since the underground air was somewhat humid and carried a heavy scent that suppressed any other smell.

After feeling comfortable, he engulfed himself in green flames again, and after the fire died there was the well-known blue pegasus, with the dream-catcher cutiemark. Just in time too, because somepony gently rapped on his door. He opened it, just to see the two small volunteer spa-ponies in front of his door, avoiding his look. The shifter let out a heavy sigh.

“We’re sorry,” Mudbath said, and Zaffre felt his anger disappear. “We only wanted to help.”

“You mean help yourself get your cutiemark right?” he asked, gently scolding the foals. He knew from some past experiences what important part it was for ponies to get that stupid magical tattoo on their flanks.

“We promise we won’t force ourselves on anypony again,” Well Mess added.

“While I highly doubt that, I hold no grudge,” Thorax replied with a gentle smile, and that eased the foals. “You have no idea, what else I had to endure with my small brother.”

I wish I could endure it all over again. He added in his thoughts.

Two years ago.

“Ouch! Get them off me!” a changeling yelled under the onslaught of nymphs. “I swear these things are more ferocious than any of our soldiers! Why don’t we release them on Equestria?”

“Now now brother, they are the seeds of our future; we should teach stealth and deception above ferociousness,” Thorax scoffed his brother, tending to a small group of recently hatched changelings.

The two drones were ordered to help out Cluster Eight with their newcomers, since their own cluster wouldn’t have any new eggs in the next two weeks. Thorax was glad to help, since he always thought of the small shifters as an unregulated army that he has to take care of. Any other changeling would’ve tried to get rid of this job as quickly as possible, but the young shifter thought that if he can regulate an uncontrollable group of nymphs, he can create order in a mass of grown up simpletons. Maybe this was a way to become a great leader on the long run.

“How are my little larvae?” A third voice asked. Thorax immediately recognized her as the mother of all these eggs.

“They are quite lively today Flitterspark.” he replied. “My brother here has some problems with their insatiable hunger, but I think they are manageable.”

“Oh, really?” She asked, and let out a whistle-growl like sound. All the nymphs suddenly panicked and started running around, looking for a place to hide.

Thorax reacted immediately. His horn started to glow, and he enhanced his voice with his magic.

“STAY!” He boomed, and all the nymphs he tended to immediately gathered in a small group around the young changeling. Thorax looked at Flitterspark, who gave him an admiring look.

“Not bad.” She said, walking around him. “Three days after they hatched, and you already manage to control them on a primary level. You might make a great cluster-leader one day.”

Today.

Thorax awoke from his daydream in the mess hall, sitting at a table with some of the fillies. In front of him lay a daisy sandwich on the plate, and he hasn’t even touched it. The shifter quickly took a bite, before anypony would get suspicious, and swallowed it. When he looked around he saw the foals happily chatting with each other, making plans for the day, and swarming Madame Tender with questions. Thorax quietly slipped back to his own memories.

Flitterspark was one of the few mothers he ever knew personally in the hive. Changelings had about ten females and hundreds of males in every cluster. The cluster Thorax was from, Cluster Four was lucky: they had twenty females. This meant of course that Zaffre never had a chance to truly know who his mother was. He was too young to remember anything, and they got separated before either side could establish any bond. Flitterspark however was somewhat of a motherly figure to the changeling. She taught him many things: how to control, deceive, and manipulate others, even other changelings. But most of all, he taught him how to truly care for others.

Thorax never forgot when their Queen heard of her having a bond with one of her own nymphs. The other drones learned about it, when they found her singing a lullaby for her larvae, and afterwards she refused to stop visiting them when ordered. She was immediately dragged away, and became part of the nightmare of every changeling: Cluster Thirteen.

Every disobedient changeling was sent to that part of the hive. The food was scarce, they had no medical attention and every egg or nymph they ever had was either kidnapped or suffered a fate much worse. Thorax saw several shifters attempting to escape the tower of Cluster Thirteen, only to fall to their deaths before reaching any of the tunnels leading to the outside world. Each and every one of them was too weak to leave or fight, and their numbers were constantly dropping.

Thorax got rid of the unpleasant thoughts, and concentrated on his daisy sandwich. Anything he learned about true kindness would come in handy in his near future. He realized that his chance of survival was not in his acting skills, but honest caring. Sure he must wear his pony mask and his fake name, but he could get used to that. What mattered is that he shouldn’t fake his attention towards the foals.

“Zaffre!” a small black pegasus disturbed his thoughts.

“Yes Cirrus?” Thorax asked back with a smile.

“We would like to go to the library to borrow and return a few books.” The colt explained. “Think you could accompany us?”

“Well, if Madame Tender has no other business for me, I’d be glad to.” Zaffre replied.

“I have a grocery list for you, but I think you can do that by yourself while the foals do their thing in the library.” Tender replied. “Just be back by lunchtime.”

“All right then.” Zaffre finished his sandwich. “Let’s write down the list and we’ll be off to the city.”

“Rise and shine my little test subject!” a pleasant feminine voice awoke Shiftlight. “Time for your vivisection!”

Lancet launched out of his bed in fear, and stood in an attacking position, his flank against the wall. In the door of his room stood Nurse Redheart with a smug grin on her face, and a plate in her hoof.

“Good morning Lancet!” She said, putting the plate on the table. “Slept well?”

“Yes.” He eased up, and appeared as his usual stoic self. “I presume you did too.”

“I hardly got any sleep, I was so excited about today.” Redheart replied in a singsong voice. “So I went ahead and cleaned all the scalpels, forceps, and other surgery tools we might need.”

“Good.” Lancet’s voice was dripping from sarcasm. “I’ll just eat this small breakfast of yours, and then we can start.”

“Oh, just to make it a bit tastier, I added some magic suppressant and sedatives!” she said, just after the changeling took his first bite. “I hope you like it spicy!”

The changeling swallowed the food, and gave a deadpan look to the mare, who was now leaving. From a sudden idea, he partially dropped his disguise, making his horn visible, and shot a tiny spark of lightning bolt at the nurse’s flank, making her jump and squeal.

“That’s for the vivisection joke.” He said, taking another big bite from his meal. “Be glad that the sedatives are ineffective.”

Half an hour later, when Shiftlight finished his meal and cleaned himself up, the two of them stood in the empty surgery room of the hospital.

“I’ve arranged this surgery to be empty, so you can drop your disguise.” Redheart said.

“Not yet.” Lancet shook his head. “First you need to answer me what you plan with the information you gain this way.”

“Well, I only want to satiate my –” she stopped after seeing the expression on the shifter’s face, “– all right fine. If you want to be really practical; I want to use it in case your kind attacks my kind again. And if that doesn’t happen, I can still present you and the information I gain to Princess Celestia, proving that you are sentient, cooperative, and able to coexist with us.”

“You’re an idealist.” Shiftlight remarked with a smirk. “I think I like that trait in you.”

“Just shut up and drop your disguise already.” Redheart replied with a blush.

The shifter obeyed this time, and the nurse got closer, to examine the body of the changeling. She gently tapped the chitin of Lancet on several points, asking how sensitive different areas were, took a small sample of the changeling’s hide, and looked at it under a microscope and asked the changeling to spread his wings, examining the veins inside the limb.

“This doesn’t look like blood.” She remarked, looking at the wing with a magnifier glass.

“Well, we aren’t sustained on physical nourishment.” Lancet replied.

“You only need love to survive? No need for water or any food?”

“As far as we know, we are beings of magic.” Shiftlight explained. “There seems to be some sort of magical fire burning inside each and every one of us, and the love we devour keeps it at bay. When a changeling starves to death, our insides literally burn to ash and the only thing that remains is the carapace.”

“Sounds horrid.” she said, taking out a stethoscope, and listening to the voices of the shifter’s inside. “But you’re right, this sounds more like a fire, than a heartbeat. Mind if I take a ‘blood sample’?”

“Well, you can try.” Shiftlight offered. “Although I doubt that you would be able to. No cut I ever saw bled.”

“So, you cannot bleed.” Nurse Redheart concluded. “Not even in your changed form?”

“We don’t truly change forms, we change appearances.” Lancet replied. “Even when we change genders, and… do the thing with the other sex, it’s more of an illusion what they feel that we force on their minds. Which is quite simple in those times, due to their unfocused state.”

“But you have genders and genitals, right?” She inquired, and Shiftlight could swear he heard a tiny bit of hope in her voice.

“Are you in heat?” He asked point blank.

“What?” Redheart blushed. “No of course… not.”

The changeling couldn’t help, but let out a hearty laugh, infuriating the nurse.

“That’s not funny!” She yelled, her face red. “I’m working real hard to fight it!”

“I know, I’m sorry I laughed.” Shiftlight replied. “It’s just cute to see you embarrassed.”

“Oh yeah? Isn’t there something that makes you embarrassed?” Redheart asked still furious. “Something you keep secret?”

“There… is nothing.” Lancet replied, avoiding the nurse’s look.

“Maybe you would like to be annoyed by your little secret?” She inquired in a cold voice. “Become embarrassed by the very thing you fight so hard to conceal?”

“I said there is nothing.” Shiftlight snapped, and for a second Redheart could see his expression shift into something… sad. “Believe it or not.”

“Lancet, I’m sorry.” She apologized.

I’m sorry. A memory echoed in the mind of the changeling, and he slipped into a long lost memory of his.

A year ago.

“I’m sorry,” the other changeling said. “This is just simply humiliating. We are different from each other, and they only let us know it so we won’t truly go insane.”

“Brother don’t do this!” Shiftlight pleaded his kin. “You know what punishment awaits. You saw what the ponies look like, what they act like, what their society has led them to do! They pull in all directions, and while they seem happy, that illusion has been shattered numerous times! We don’t hide anything from each other, and the laws are laws because they have kept us from dividing for centuries!”

“Yet when I look at you I don’t even know your name!” his brother replied. “I can’t remember you as anything else than ‘brother’, and I have hundreds of brothers already!”

“So? Then we both fight to earn the right to wield our name, and when we do, you can remember me as more than just brother!” Shiftlight suggested. “You know as well as I do, that wielding a name has its purpose! It’s not something to be given freely, otherwise we would’ve long fell apart!”

“Your head is filled with the same talk our superiors tell us every day!” The other changeling yelled. “I’m sick of this! I’m going out there, and telling everyling that my name is Shrapnel!”

Shiftlight stepped back at the heresy his brother committed, and watched in shock as two armored changeling soldiers dragged Shrapnel away. He never saw any sign of his brother from that day, and neither of his brothers even mentioned it. Changelings were rarely allowed to form any bonds, except during field infiltration, where they were forced to watch each other’s backs. In the hive, everyling was a brother, and if one of them went missing, no matter for how long, they were required to continue their duties to the last letter. If one never appeared again, they only mourned them if it was one of their superiors, or a female.

Today

Shiftlight felt something heavy pressing his insides, but nothing physical. He knew it was because of his memories from that day, and he fought the feeling. He told himself for so long that he wasn’t required to do anything, for so long he buried it under logical reasons, but now he felt plain wrong for letting his brother act so stupid.

“Lancet, is everything all right?” Redheart asked, and the changeling suddenly realized she was still there.

“I’m… not well.” He admitted. There was no point in lying. “Can we continue this later? I want to do a small research.”

“I’ll take the day off and keep you company.” She suggested, holding up her hoof to stop him from arguing. “I’m not taking my eyes off of you.”

Shiftlight let out a heavy sigh, changed into his disguise, and headed for the exit.

Comments

[Adam95F]

Please continue dude!

[Noble Wings]

Redheart clop :3

[Soft Shell]

Shiftlight says something then Lancet replies, its very hard to remember they are
seperate beings when you use both names in such close proximity.

[erictheblue]

“As far as we know, we are beings of magic.” Shiftlight explained. “There seems to be some sort of magical fire burning inside each and every one of us, and the love we devour keeps it at bay. When a changeling starves to death, our insides literally burn to ash and the only thing that remains is the carapace.”

i read a different story, where when something like that happened the ponies thought it was "spontaneous combustion"...