As he approached the Queen, wide grin hidden under his helmet, Nigel reflected upon his conversation with the smallest equine. Sure, maybe he had over-done it a little, but the satisfaction of terrorizing the little equine had done wonders for his current state of mind. He was a s[ector agent, the ISA’s order of elite operatives and he had been specifically created to sow fear and misery to enemies of the UIP. This power of intimidation was like a drug, the need to create terror constantly scratched at the back of his mind, altering his mindset and warping his judgement. His earlier episode had cleared his mind of any fog, and his thoughts remained crystal clear and unclouded.

“So, Your Majesty,” Nigel gave a sweeping, one-handed bow as he said this, his attention fixed on Chrysalis. “I’ve come to notice that you and your subjects appear to be quite malnourished. As a symbol of good faith I offer you some of our supplies, in the hope that we can ensure good relations between our peoples.”

Chrysalis was shocked, first this biped, this ‘Commander Chalmers’, nearly scares one of her scholars to death and then offers them food barely a minute later? Seeing that the Commander appeared to be patiently awaiting a reply, she responded, the majority of her nervousness receding at its sudden offer.

“I thank you for your offer Commander, but I don’t think that you will be able to meet our ‘unique’ dietary needs,” Chrysalis stated, trying to stay vague on the topic, fearful that the Changelings habit of draining the love from others would alienate them in the eyes of the extra-terrestrial visitors, as it had already done with the races that shared the planet of Hesperia. The Commander, however, approached the subject with the subtlety of a brakeless freight train.

“I assure you your majesty, I’ve seen many methods of acquiring substance in my lifetime, I highly doubt that the preferences of your people will shock me.“

Chrysalis sighed; it looked like the Commander was not going to drop the issue until he received an answer. She could only hope the bipeds would not react violently to the revelation.

“Well Commander,” Chrysalis started, preparing for the likey possability of the biped erupting into violence. “You will not be able to help us as our race feeds on the stolen love of others…” Chrysalis trailed off, noticing how the biped had suddenly started to twitch, no doubt furious at what abominations of nature the Changelings were.

Nigel could hardly keep his composure, laughter threatening to escape his mouth and exit through his helmet speakers, the idea that these Changelings existed purely on love was hilarious. Sure, the UIP had encountered races that fed on the emotions of others before, but they generally were able to exist on a wide variety, ranging from joy, sorrow and most often rage, never an emotion as saccharine as love. Trying his hardest to avoid upsetting the foreign ruler, he voiced the most important question he could think of at the time.

“Sooo… you’re like Succubi then?”

“I don’t know what that is,” replied Chrysalis, surprised that the biped did not seem at all concerned about sharing a room with emotional vampires, maybe there was hope for her Changelings yet? “But as you pointed out, we are in dire need of sustenance.” Chrysalis gestured towards Transfusion, who had fainted after his ordeal with the Commander, one of the white bipeds trying to awaken him from this state by pouring what appeared to be water on his head from a yellow container. Transfusion spluttered back into consciousness, the biped screwing the lid back onto the container and walking back to join its fellows.

“Our main source of food, the ponies of Equestria recently repelled an invasion of ours, which we were forced to do as we had begun to starve, our numbers growing too great.” Chrysalis continued, sorrow building within her at the memories of that day. “Now there is barely more than six-hundred of us left, and my subjects are continuing to die, we have only days left until every single changeling in the Hive is dead, myself included."

Nigel had missed the last part of the Queen’s tale of woe, his mind still churning over the fact that another race existed on this planet, a race of sentient ponies no less, undoubtedly capable warriors if they were able to repel an invasion from these Changelings, who, despite their current state of nutrition appeared to be naturally prepared for conflict with their carapace armour and sharp horns.

‘These ponies must possess a proficient military,’ thought Nigel. ‘If we side with these Changelings we may end up dragged into a prolonged conflict.’

“Excuse me Commander, Your Majesty,” both Nigel and Chrysalis were broken from their individual thoughts, both turning to face the source of the interruption. An armoured hazmat-suit clad biped Nigel recognised as Dr Harris Thrax, the mysterious Viral Warfare researcher who had been assigned to the Listening Post his origins shrouded in secrecy. “I apologize for the interruption, but I believe that I can provide you with a solution for your food-shortage problems your Royal Highness, if the Commander agrees that is.”

‘This ought to be interesting,’ thought Nigel as he gave a nod of his head, signalling the Researcher to continue.

“Before I proceed with my idea Commander, may I ask you if you are familiar with Article 721B, or the ‘Souleater Virus’ as it is known?” Dr Thrax had gained the attention of every human in the room with the mention of that name.

The ‘Souleater Virus’ was notorious, a virus specifically designed to target the brain functions of almost every single sentient being encountered by the UIP. The virus targeted the brain chemistry, stripping inhabitations from the host and instilling a overwhelming sense of never-ending hunger, forcing the host to feed on anything organic in the vicinity. The virus was transmitted by bodily fluids, most often blood and saliva, and was manufactured so that the virus would gestate inside the host for days, ensuring that a wide section of the target population was infected before the outbreak was detected. This ‘Zombie virus’ had been attributed to the destruction of over thirty-seven civilisations, all bitter enemies of the UIP.

“I am well aware of that particular weapon Doctor, what I am not aware of is how a biological weapon is related to a shortage of food for love-reliant xenos.”

‘Biological weapon?’ Chrysalis thought, completely confounded by the bipeds’ confusing conversation.

“You see Commander,” Thrax continued. “I was a part of the team that developed the virus and a major part of its fabrication was the creation of ways to manipulate the base emotions of the targets and one of those emotions was love, the very same emotion that your subjects so desperately require your majesty.”

“That’s all very well Doctor, but surely the materials required for such synthesisation would be incredibly complex and difficult to obtain?” Nigel supplied, genuinely interested in Thrax’s theory.

“Some of them are Commander, but thankfully I have the majority of the compounds with me,” Thrax stated as he gestured towards the large black cases loaded onto the cargo lifter, forgotten at the back of the room due to the unusual encounter. “The only chemical components that I am currently missing are Alpha-Linoleic-Acid, Asparagine, D-Categin, Isoqurctrin, Hyperoside and Neoxathin-”

“All of which are located in the common apple,” interrupted Commander Chalmers, much to the shock of Dr Thrax as well as the surrounding scientists, drawn in by the conversation. The wraith troopers were too busy discussing the alien equines’ appearance over their internal communications to notice and the changelings were under the impression that the Viral Biologist was speaking a different language.

“What?” Nigel questioned as he looked around him, the scientists’ shock clear, even from behind their tinted visors. “I know stuff.”

Thrax shook his head to clear his mind, the Commander’s comment leading him to question the nature of reality, and turned back towards the Changeling Queen, who was staring at the Commander in surprise. “Your Majesty?” he inquired. “Would there be anywhere in the surrounding area where one might find a source of… apples?” Thrax could not believe that one of his first conversations with alien Royalty would involve the acquisition of fruit.

“Well…” the Queen began, clearly as uncomfortable regarding the questions as he was. “There is a small pony settlement four miles from here, and from what my subjects have observed, the ponies there grow a large amount of apples. However,” the Queen continued. “I don’t think that any of my subjects have the strength to make the journey as well as avoiding the local pony farmers.” The Queen gave a deep sigh “I do however thank you for trying, it’s just that I think it is an impossible task.”

“Maybe not as impossible as you think, Chrissy my dear” Commander Chalmers had dropped all formality, an exciting idea forming inside his head. “I’ve got just the soldier for the job.” The Commander turned to the group of wraiths, narrowing his eyes inside his helmet as he spotted his target.

“Corporal Stevens!” The Commander’s voice jolted the wraiths out of their private conversation, and they all turned to look at the summoned Corporal, who was beginning to sweat inside his armour, despite its numerous internal climate control systems. He turned to face his Commander, his apprehension growing as he ever-so-slowly rotated his body.

“It’s your lucky day Corporal,” said the Commander as soon as the Corporal was facing him. “You better pack your parasol and bonnet, you’ve won the lottery, and the first prize is that you get to go on an adventure.”

The Commander grinned under his helmet, he had been waiting for an opportunity to get back at the Corporal since he had mocked Nigel’s finely crafted joke earlier.

‘Oh, this is going to be hilarious,’ Nigel thought, imagining all of the horrible things that the Corporal could encounter on the surface.