No cauliflowers required
Canterlot was a shining jewel of pony civilization. How it didn’t just fall clean off the mountainside it was built upon was a question many first-time viewers over the centuries would ask. Part of the answer was that it was very securely anchored into the mountain.
Like every shining metropolis, Canterlot had some unsavory elements. Such a thing was practically unavoidable, and one of the main reasons there was a large detachment of guardsponies to go around. Fortunately for the unsavory elements, most ponies didn’t feel that the deeper anchor points were a good place to hang around in.
Over time, the unsavory elements would make the deep anchors a good place to hang around in. Naturally, they would not do so in a way that would alert the guards, nor would they make things too comfortable, lest they weaken the anchors and bring the whole damn city tumbling down. They were criminals, and sometimes a life had to be cut short. Even so, genocide was far over the line.
Years in the future, but not too many, the Changeling Empire would get a new leader and start working on improving their highly damaged reputation. They would need a good rep if they were to more or less integrate into pony society in a peaceful manner. Things between them and the ponies of Equestria were going reasonably well on the whole, safe the inevitable little pockets of resistance. There would always be such pockets, where for example the local pony populace would resist such a change. Changeling cell leaders would often laugh in a suitably subdued way at the irony.
One particular changeling, shortly after a bout of self-discovery described in another story, found a taste for heroics. And she was not afraid of cramped spaces…
Solid Oak stood vigilant in the control room of his base, deep in Beta Point. It was his turn, and he took to the task with gusto, for if there was one thing the Royal Guard dropout liked, it was being vigilant. Suddenly, his reverie was broken when one of the tripwire alarms (a little bell on a string) sounded. Within moments, his front hoof was on a button, and a much louder alarm system activated, blaring all throughout the base. Solid Oak was confident his allies would be on their way and ran out to meet them.
Indeed, just before he reached the door to the planning room, Solid Oak met with the gang’s courier. She was a nimble little pegasus mare known only as Ballgame. The rest of the gang sometimes doubted if that was really her name since all she ever did with her reinforced baseball bat was break kneecaps when required. They had, in fact, never seen Ballgame play ball, but to a criminal organization, hitting knees was more important than hitting homeruns, so they just rolled with it.
“Come on, open it! Open it!” Ballgame urged the large stallion on. She watched intently as Solid Oak inserted his hoof into a locking device and twisted it to and fro, muttering as he went.
“One… two… three… ah… Four!”
Behind the two, just as Solid Oak took his hoof back out, a very large canine creature barreled towards them. Spittle flew out of his wide-open mouth in copious quantities as he bellowed one of his war cries. The two ponies urged the dig dog to stop, as the door was already unlocked, but Ton of Bricks would not be stopped so easily.
With a loud crash, the two ponies and dog tumbled through the doorway, only to reveal their heist plans securely pinned to the table.
“Oh. Okay,” Solid Oak said softly as he climbed out from underneath Brick. He pulled Ballgame free, and together they quickly checked if the plans were there in full.
“Sorry,” Brick muttered.
“It’s okay, big guy. Just try to stop when we tell you to next time?” Ballgame reassured him with a pat on the back.
Behind them, a sleekly-dressed unicorn trotted in. He carried an illicit substance between his lips, and another, unconscious unicorn with a fancy hat on his back.
“Ahem. Filly and assorted not-so-gentle beings,” he announced as he deposited his load on the table, right next to the plans. A firm bruise was clearly visible on his back, and he was covered in a thick, green substance.
Worse than Ballgame, none of the other gang members knew what the unicorn’s name was. Some suspected he was a noble. Others thought he was a descendant of Prince Blueblood, but that would imply the duke had bred, which was a horrible thing to imagine.
“Poor Eagle Eyes”, Ballgame said as she gingerly wiped off some of the goop. “Who could do this to him?”
“Not ‘who’,” the regal unicorn corrected. “It’s more a question of ‘what’. And the answer… is the Darkling.”
“OH NOOO!” Brick bellowed in sudden fear.
“Think about it. This is changeling goop,” Not-Blueblood explained. “Who else could’ve gotten past our lookout?”
Eagle Eyes stood watch near the exit of Beta Point, hidden in his little shadowy hidey-hole. The lighting in the access corridor wasn’t very good, but as long as there was some light, Eagle Eyes would manage to find his target. Without looking, he reached for a cup of coffee and took a swig.
It was cold.
The lookout shivered at the temperature of his drink. Something nearby made a skittering sound, but Eagle Eyes was too distracted by his own shivering to properly locate it. By the time he had put down his cup, it was too late. Something right behind him repeated the sound. He turned around, brandishing a large knife in his magical grip, but couldn’t see a target.
By the time he thought to look up, said target was again behind him and sharply poked him in a very specific spot on his back. With a gurgled cry, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground.
The last thing he saw before blackness overtook him was a face in the darkness – two sharp blue eyes, piercing the darkness with their own light and a set of shiny fangs in a wicked grin.
“That’s not even the worst of it,” the regal unicorn continued. “She has breached our defenses, and I’m certain she didn’t only take out Eagle Eyes, but our medic as well. I haven’t been able to find him either.”
“No!” Ballgame exclaimed. She really liked that medic. “He’s not even a proper member of the gang!”
The slightly frightened medical student tried to find his way through the base. If it weren’t for the pegasus, whom he found quite lovely in a “don’t insult or you’ll never walk again” sort of way, and the dig dog he played cards with, he would’ve tried to escape months ago.
As the poor colt paused to wipe his glasses, the Darkling called out to him from a dark corner. “Hay, healer boy.”
“Mister Eagle Eyes, sir?” the medic responded, seeing only one of the lookout’s spare hats in the darkness.
“I must’ve gotten lost or something, cos I can’t fer the live a’ me remember where the planning room’s at,” the disguised changeling said with a voice matching that of her last target.
“Well, to be honest, sir, I’m not entirely sure of my way either. But I think the planning room is that way,” the medic pointed out.
“Thank you for your cooperation,” the Darkling said with her own voice, surprising the medic. “I’d knock you out anyway, but I’ll try to make it painless just because you’ve been so helpful.”
Within the blink of an eye the Darkling stood behind her target and gave him a sharp poke in the back. As he fell, the changeling intruder took his glasses in her magic. She was momentarily engulfed in green flames and the last thing the medic saw was he, putting on his glasses.
“Okay, so there’s a changeling in the base,” Solid Oak scoffed, turning towards the regal unicorn. “So what if there is? As far as I’m concerned, they’re just manipulative pains in the flank that go down with one firm push. Not unlike you, really.”
“Yes… ‘As far as you’re concerned’. But you’ve seen what she’s done to our comrade, and possibly the medic. The Darkling should not be underestimated. If she’s still in our--”
“Haha, what are ya?” Ballgame mocked. “President of the Official Darkling Fan Club?”
The Blueblood-looking stallion glared at his courier. “No, that would be your brother,” he said firmly as he pulled a folder from his suit and magically smacked it on the table. A fair amount of photographs spilled out next to the plans, showing Ballgame’s big brother engaging in various social activities with a black-maned, gray-coated unicorn. In some shots, the unicorn’s cutie mark could be seen – a red heart with a bite mark – and in some shots she wasn’t a unicorn at all. Instead, she’d be a black-maned changeling.
In one shot, Ballgame’s brother was clearly letting the changeling drain him, half the image obscured by a green fog.
“What!?” the pegasus exclaimed as Brick and Oak looked over the photos. “Where’d you even get these?”
“Does it even matter?” the unicorn called back with a ferocity that surprised even the dig dog. “The Darkling is here in the base, and she could be any one of us! She could be you,” he said as he pointed at Brick. “She could be me. She could even be”
Before the increasingly agitated stallion could finish, he was bucked hard in the chin by Solid Oak, sending him flying over the table and landing crumpled against the far wall.
The other two gang members just looked at him.
“Whaaat? It was obviously him!” Solid Oak defended as he walked over to where his bucking victim had fallen. “Watch – he’ll turn black any second now.”
To nopony’s surprise, nothing about the noble-looking unicorn changed.
“See? Black! No, wait, that’s a cigarette burn.”
Solid Oak pondered his mistake in judgment for a moment, nudging the target with a hoof.
“Yeah okay, I’ve made a mistake. I’m a big boy, I can admit as much.”
Brick walked up and put one paw at the unicorn’s throat. “At least he’s still alive,” he said. Brick was dumb as his namesake, but at least he could detect basic signs of life.
“Unfortunately,” mumbled the stallion next to him. “But… I guess we still have a changeling problem, huh?”
“Where could sneaky changeling be?”
Behind the two, the pegasus took out her baseball bat. She was momentarily engulfed in green flames, revealing a black-maned changeling.
“Right behind you.”
With all the gang members incapacitated (and the medical student revived and sent on his safe way back out), the Darkling relaxed. With a quick flash of green, her mane and tail changed style and color, and her voice raised half an octave.
“Nice job, girl,” Sixteen thought to herself as she pulled out a small radio and contacted the Royal Guards.