Lyra followed the low ranking guard into the town hall at a brisk pace. She was asked via messenger to meet with the local commanding officers of the guard. It was highly unusual, since she had no skills to offer aside from entertainment, but she set off immediately nonetheless. Her lyre gigs never started until the afternoon or evening anyways.

She walked into the office area, which was set aside from the large presentation room that the outer doors actually led to. The mare led Lyra past the secretary, and into the office of the leading town guards. Once inside, she could see a Warrant Officer Longsword, with bags under his bloodshot eyes, and Warrant Officer Steelwing, with a healthier look on her dark face. The private simply walked to the side and stood over an open cardboard box, like a statue.

“Thank you for coming, Lyra.” Longsword cleared his throat. “Tell me. Have you noticed any odd events these past couple days?”

She furrowed her brow, then shook her head. “No...Well, actually, my friend Roseluck was telling me that she saw a human. I don't believe it actually was, though.”

“Really?” He asked, as if mildly surprised. “Why not?”

“Well, the description matched well, but... the behavior didn't quite as much.” She insisted.

He smiled softly. “Would you say you know much about humans? Do you study them?”

“Oh, yes.” She responded, almost giddy. “I've done really extensive research, actually. I even had a group back in Canterlot that would create theories, and sort fact from fiction.”

“Good.” he replied. “Because I need you to help us with this.”

Lyra was confused. She wasn't sure where it was going. Whatever it was, how could it involve humans? “Um...with what?”

Longsword took a deep breath. “Well... two nights after that, there was... an attack. The survivor swore that she saw a human.” Lyra gasped at the information, but he continued. “and... we believe your knowledge in the subject could be of use to us.”

“Wait, who died? I haven't heard of anypony dying! Why hasn't there been a town meeting about this yet?! Wha-”

Longsword held up his hoof to silence her. “We asked the ponies affected to keep quiet about it until the town meeting scheduled in three days. Sunday we will announce the attacks, and detail what exactly has happened. For the time being, we have set up posters around town to remind ponies to report anything suspicious.”

“That doesn't change the fact that the town should be warned about this! They need to know now!” Lyra was confused about it. They were supposed to protect and warn the people of the town, not cover up threats!

Longsword stared intently into her eyes, though. He gave an unwavering gaze that let her know, somehow, that she is wrong. “Lyra... If you know enough about humans, there may not even be a threat by tomorrow morning.”

That shut her up. Ooohhh...that's why I'm here. She thought. If there really is a human out there, and it's bad... this isn't going to be easy.

Longsword continued. “We brought you here for this: We need your expertise on humans, so that we can catch him.”

Oh, now that's just downright impossible! They have no idea just what they're dealing with, do they? Wait, “'Him'? As in, you know it's a 'he'?”

His stare wavered slightly. “Well, that's our guess, based on the deep voice, and the fact that he called Nurse Redheart 'babe'.”

Her brows furrowed greatly. “You talked to him?” She turned her head to Steelwing. “You actually talked to a human?” She turned back to Longsword as he spoke.

“No... he... left a note after he stole supplies from the hospital.”

Her heart was gaining speed with each bit of information that she knew. “Then I need to know what it says, word for word.”

Longsword signaled to the unknown guard with a nod. The guard pushed an open box to Lyra, revealing stacks of papers and several unknown items. “These are all the reports and items we believe are in connection to this human.” Longsword then pushed a leather bag towards Lyra. “And I’m giving you a hundred and twenty bits to cover any costs.”

Lyra looked between the bag and the box. She levitated the stack of papers in the box, and looked through it. They were ordered by date, with the most recent one being considerably larger. She pulled it out to show him. “Why is this report bigger than the rest?”

“Because I was there.” He answered shortly.

“Then could you tell me what happened? I only need to know about the human.”

Longsword looked down in a wandering gaze. His eyes seemed to lose focus as he recalled the memory. It must have been a strong memory, for it to overcome him merely by the asking.

Longsword frustratedly filled out the paperwork presented before him. Every time a pony was brought to a medical facility by certain government employees, a special set time-consuming parchments had to be completed.

Unfortunately, guards were on that list.

It wasn't unreasonable. It detailed the when where and how of having found the pony in need. More or less, it was a full report on everything that was, from finding the pony to the hike to the hospital. It was so detailed, that he ended up using it for the guard's report he would have to do anyways.

Or he would have, if it wasn't for the smallest of differences between the two that made it illegal.

Fucking hate this crap. I'm just gonna be writing it all over again. He thought.

Time passed by slowly as he moved down the page. It did not help to know that the nurse waiting on him was passing her time with a game of solitaire. He marked the final line with his signature, and finally pushed away the quill with his magic. “Ahem.” He cleared his throat to get her attention. She looked up with a contented smile, as if she was simply dying for something to do.

“Thank you sir.” The white furred nurse with a red cross for a cutie mark grabbed the papers, sorting them out on the front desk.

Longsword let out an exasperated sigh. During the triple murder, only three minutes passed from the first sound discharge to the escape of the suspect. Ten minutes were spent documenting it to the medical staff. That meant that in the time it takes to write down events, the criminal is able to commit murders three times over. The things implemented in that calculation were not happy things.

The other guards had gone ahead back to their patrols, leaving the lobby empty of life, short of the nurse, Longsword, and the doctor that walked around every so often. The latest happened to come at that time.

“Redheart, have you seen Nightstick?” Longsword shifted his ear to hear better as he walked.

“Yeah,” she replied, “he's getting dressed. Why?”

“Just wondering. Your office was unlocked, so I just wanted to see who did it.” Longsword stopped walking, and listened for the rest of the conversation.

“What? I could have sworn I locked it. Nightstick hasn't been up there yet either.”

“Huh. Maybe you forgot to?”

Longsword walked back to the front desk, bringing onto himself the attention of both the staff. “Go check for anything stolen.” He said in a dry, emotionless tone.

“What?” asked Redheart.

“There has been a string of thefts around town for the past few nights. So far, nothing has brought us closer to catching the thief, so he's still out there.” He gave Redheart a cold stare.

She fidgeted, then began going towards the stairs. “Oh, uh. Thanks, I’ll go check.” She picked up the pace into a worried half-jog.

“Really?” the doctor asked. Longsword only nodded his head. “Any particular injuries I should look out for? Or just descriptions in general?”

“No. None that would be useful.”

The two waited a few minutes. For Longsword, it was a typical, patient wait. The doctor, however, seemed to be more fidgety. In fact, he seemed to be absolutely anxious, about it.

“You worried?” Longsword asked.

“Well, yeah.” The male doctor replied. “She has my bank account information up there.”

Longsword rolled his eyes. “No need to worry. This guy couldn't just walk into a bank without someone calling him out. Even if he did have any account info.” It seemed to let him relax a little, but he tensed back up again as they heard clopping coming down the steps.

Nurse Redheart looked angry, but it was hard to tell with a small blush on her cheeks. She set down a note just on the desk, and looked to Longsword. “Well, you were right. There was a thief.” She indicated to the letter. “He left that for me.” Longsword grabbed the parchment and began to read it.

Dear “Redheart”,

Don't hate me babe, but I'm kinda in need of some fixn's, ya know? I have medical needs, but everyone here thinks I'm out to get them, so it'd be better for business to take and go.

With alcohol, and thoughts on your ass,

Your Master Thief

PS

I don't know prices, so I’ll just leave some cash for compensation.

Oh, and, sorry about the mud.

Longsword read it over and over, trying to pry more information, but to no avail. “What rooms did he enter?”

“At least my office and the supply closet.” She answered.

“Mind if I look?”

“Not at all.” She led the trio -since the doctor had nothing better to do- up the stairs. They trotted to the office, and opened the already unlocked door. Once inside, Longsword began looking around.

“What did he take?” He asked, as he went to the window.

“All I could find missing was some painkillers. I also found a half used syringe of morphine. There may be more, but I’d have to look at our supply list.”

Longsword looked at the design of mud on the carpet. Whatever stepped there managed to scrape the mud around, making it difficult to tell what it was by track. What was obvious was that it came from the window.

This sneaky bastard is going to get a fucking death sentence if I ever get him. No, he corrected, when I get him.

He moved back to the entrance, stuffing the note into his saddle bag. “Thank you for your time. I'll be back around daylight.” He didn't even look at here when she replied 'thank you'. He didn't notice the worried look he received from the doctor as he passed by. He didn't even realize that he stepped deep into mud until he had nearly walked it off.

He was halfway down the road when he stopped to think, and take in all of what happened.

I can't believe it. He's an alcoholic.

A part of him, deep down inside, sympathized with possible reasons for drunkenness, but it was far overshadowed by the deep, oozing hatred at the thief.

He's an alcoholic!

Longsword stomped his hoof on the ground. Then again. Over and over he tried to break the ground, all the while yelling out in his own mind.

He's a fucking alcoholic! He's a gods damned drug addict! The little shit even spites me by shoving that stolen money back to the nurse!! The fucker is all sorts of messed up and still outmaneuvering the whole damn guard!!

He gave a final, massive blow, sending mud all over his legs, and some on his armor. He looked toward the moon, bright in the sky, and yelled out his angry message.

“'Master Thief'! I'm going to find you, and I’m going to shove my sword so far up your ass, you'll taste your own lunch from the day before!” He then began marching, going right to the town hall.

Redheart mulled over the note again. It was odd, to say the least. She had never known a thief to simply admit to it. It was something that was just too stupid for a proper thief to do.

Or maybe he wanted to get caught.

The thought came from a dark fantasy of hers. She pulled out a book from under the counter, placing it where she could read comfortably. Making sure not a soul was watching, she opened the book to her marked page,which was titled 'The Virgin Thief'.

Oh Lock A. Smith, take me away!

Longsword brought his focus back as he heard the calling of his name.

“-ord? You okay?” He had thrown his attention away, apparently, and was then facing a worried Lyra. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

He shook his head, getting the memory out of his mind. “The reports will tell you all you need to know.”

She gave him an odd look, but didn't question him. Instead, she pressed forward in the conversation. “Okay. So what is it exactly that you want me to do?”

Longsword looked to Steelwing, who returned the action. They then both looked at Lyra, and Steelwing explained. “We want you to help us bait him into a trap.”

At Lyra's silence, Longsword continued. “We can take out a Hydra. Timberwolves are no problem, and the rare werewolf is not unknown to us. But a human? Never been done before.” He leaned in closer. “That's where you come in.”

Lyra digested the information a bit. She knew that, even with her help, actually catching a human would be unlikely. There was simply too much unknown about the species. “Okay. But you need to know: Even those of us that made theories for years, know next to nothing about them. I can't guarantee much.”

“And without that help of yours, we couldn't guarantee anything at all.” He leaned back some, trying to relax. “Which is why I cleared my schedule for the whole day. We can talk over this as much as we need, but we need a plan by tonight.”

“Why? What happens tonight?”

“He attacks again.” Longsword stated bluntly. “Like clockwork. He's escaped us a couple of times already.”

“So, since retaliation gets you nowhere, you decided to trap him instead.”

Longsword gave a curt nod. “Exactly.”

“That's not going to work.” He raised an eyebrow, but she continued. “You already know how good he is, even if inebriated. If he thinks, even for a second, that there is danger, he'll back off, go around, or whatever.”

Longsword looked annoyed. “Are you saying that he'll be able to spot the trap before we spot him?”

“...Yes.” He rolled his eyes around in a vivid fashion. “Their eyes are small and aimed toward the front! They aren't made for peripheral vision, they're made for spotting targets from long distance. They have predator's eyes. And, I’m sorry, but ponies have prey's.”

Longsword slammed his hoof on the desk. Every fucking nook and cranny. “Is there nothing you know that will help us catch a human?” He asked her in a restrained voice.

“Well... the only human we've ever found... did have an obsession.”

He leaned in closer. “What was it? Can we use it against this new human?”

“I think we might...and the human seemed to love talking...about his food.”

Maybe, he thought, just maybe this will work.

Parody calmly breathed in the green sludge within his pod. He opened his eyes to see one of the operation runners standing before him. He pressed a leg out, letting the gaping holes rip open the membrane with ease. He crawled out of his place, and stood on the dry dirt of his new home. Some of the goop stuck to him, filling his gaps of his figure. He stood there to dry as he talked to the intruding changeling, with absolute upbeat attitude and charismatic speech.

“What is it this time?”

The changeling fidgeted a bit, knowing that he really shouldn't waste the time of a prince, then pulled out a folder from his rucksack. He magicked it towards Parody, who caught it with his own aura. “From Copy, sir.”

“Thank you.”

The lesser changeling saluted, then ran off, given he had no important business with the prince any longer. Parody walked over to his desk, and threw the folder onto the top. He lit the oil lamp, and took his place over the papers, getting ready for whatever hell was about to greet him. He turned the first page over, to see the summery.

Parody's jaw dropped at the numbers. In a few days, the whole team on the Ponyville assignment was cut in half. Even for Copy, it was completely unexpected. Any nonchalant feelings were wiped away, and replaced with anxious disbelief. He kept reading on through.

Absolutely no clue what is killing our brothers. Remaining changelings ordered to group up in no less than three per house. Nighttime guarding is now taking place, no exceptions. No bodies were recovered, but no connection to other changelings was left either. It is possible that a brother is selling us out. Permission to cleanse the jails of our two captured brethren is requested.

Parody was surprised. Copy wasn't one to call traitor lightly, but it seemed that he was quick to look for causes. He grabbed his pen and a scroll. He wrote down a quick letter, letting Copy know that he was allowed to follow through on his request. It would was not the first time he sentenced a brother to death, and unfortunately, it would probably not be the last, either. It was terrible, though! What brother could possibly sell out his whole family? Who could kill those that saved him from the suicidal tyranny of Chrysalis?

He got anxious. His breaths began to quicken, which was not helped by the dusty air. He needed some space. He needed to breathe.

He shot up, and walked over to the door. He pressed his hoof to force it open, revealing the large chasm that echoed with the buzzing of wings. The slow air was still dry, still oppressive, so he took to the air from his abode. On the other side near the top, he saw the gaping entrance that could only be reached with wings. It let in warm light, filling the dark carving inside the mountain with the false hope of life. But alas, the light would be gone long before actual sunset, blocked by the mountainside.

He burst towards the hole in the cavern. After a short flight, he reached it, passing by a couple of guards on the way. Once he exited, he curved around to reach the sweet meadow placed a small distance above the entrance. He landed in the patch of flowers that he had come to cherish for the past weeks.

He took fresh air into his lungs, letting the sweet scent into his nostrils. He laid down in a patch of daffodils, and tried to relax away his worry.

He still kept his connection to the hive at bay. Most changelings would find it lonely, or intimidating, but Parody usually found it as a comforting silence. His thoughts on the terrible news were slated for a time.

Author's Notes:

This isn't going to end up as a 'human's are bastards' story all the way through. There will be some changes in public opinion along the way.