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Changeling: Viator

by Xvern


Chapters


Has Anyone Heard Of...?

The Professor paced back and forth in front of his class, chewing over his words before he spoke them. Such a sensitive topic, he thought with distaste, If only the masses weren't so fearful of the unknown. Oh, how much we could learn from them!

Finally, he stopped and faced the, admittedly, small class. Not many ponies were interested in xenobiology. They would leave that to the Professor and the array of students before him.

“Who knows of the Changelings?” he asked. Unsurprisingly, everypony raised their hoof. This wasn't surprising. Even with the university being in Fillydelphia, they had heard of the Changeling attack on Canterlot. They have also been subjugated to Celestia's campaign of understanding and forgiveness.

“You there,” the Professor pointed to a cherry red mare in the front row, “what do you think of the Changelings?”

Honestly, he hadn't needed to ask, as he could see the revulsion the student had at their mere name. A sensitive topic, indeed.

“They are monsters!” she seethed, “They deserve to be put to the sword!”

“Even if they extend an oak branch?” asked a tan student further up and to the right. The mare rounded on her fellow scholar.

“They attacked Canterlot and held Princess Celestia hostage! Why would we forgive something like that?”

“Maybe because it was one hive out of who knows how many!” the tan stallion rebuked, his own anger mounting.

“Exactly! Who knows which one will be the next to attack us! They should all be slain!” she punctuated this by slamming a hoof on her desk. Some of the students shouted their agreement.

“You really want to doom the whole for the actions of the few? What of the ones that hold no ill will to us? What of that hive of furred 'Lings that stepped into the light?” argued the stallion, who also had students rallying around him.

“You mean the ones that kidnapped Twilight Sparkle?”

“They saved Miss Sparkle's life! Were it not for their conversion, she would be dead and Equestria would be in a war that it did not need!”

“We could easily crush those bugs beneath our hooves!”

“Students, please!” the Professor called out. He was one to encourage debate but this was escalating far too much for the comfort of the aged stallion. At the sound of his voice, all but two eyes focused on him. The red mare and tan stallion continued to glare at each other.

“Professor,” came a quiet voice from the center of the front row. Seated there was a cream colored mare with a soft blue mane. She wore a purple hoodie  with sleeves that were far too long for her forelegs, effectively hiding them. At the sudden attention, the mare sunk into the fabric a little but continued nonetheless, “What are your thoughts on the Changelings?”

Now even the two instigators were looking at the Professor. Everypony present wanted to hear where the Professor stood. Said pony thought quickly on how to avoid another shouting match. He feared that a second would lead to physical altercations.

“I am paid merely to educate, not influence. However,” he used his magic to whisk away the black cloth that covered the chalkboard. What he revealed was a dark green field covered in white chalk. Pictures, annotations, paragraphs, diagrams; all covered the board, “I know that if one is to wield the sword,” he looked at the red mare, “or extend the olive branch,” he looked at the tan stallion, “one must first understand the target of their desired action.”

The class was met with silence as they waited for the Professor to continue. Said pony was glad none of them decided to walk out. Maybe there is hope.

“Now, the first thing you must understand is this: the Changelings are as diverse as they are numerous. The different hives can be so different from one another that they could each be designated their own species. The base line for every Changeling seems to be fangs, insect-like wings, the ability to disguise themselves, and a hive mind. That, however, is where the similarities end.”

-_-_-_-_-_-

Deep beneath Equestrian soil, a Changeling dug at the earth. This Changeling, of dark gray chitin and red eyes, picked at the earth in front of it with two bone claws that grew from where it's wings were supposed to be. Each swipe of the claws removed pounds of dirt, lengthening the tunnel more and more. The drone, smaller than it's 'normal' brethren by three inches, dug without sign of tiring or boredom. This was, afterall, the task it was born to do; it was the task that it was tailored for.

Behind this digging drone, a dozen Changelings advanced behind it. These Changelings had the wings that was considered “normal” for their kind, the semi-transparent surfaces being a uniform black. They did not talk, neither in the physical world or within the Hive. There was no need to waste energy in conversation when they already knew of everything that their brethren knew. Such was the omnipotence of the Hive.

Each time they moved forward the swarm of creatures beneath their hooves would part to avoid getting squished. These creatures greatly resembled the scorpions of arid regions that had been enlarged by a factor of two, given a bright red carapace, and an enlarged maw filled with razor sharp teeth. The creatures were simply spawns of two more Changelings behind the “normals”. While they stood on four legs, it's body looked bloated with hexagonal holes that made it look like a semi-circular honeycomb. The only places without holes were where the legs and heads extended out. The scorpion creatures crawled in and out of the honeycomb bodies, using the legs as ladders. Again, there was no sign of irritation at the feeling of the Scorplings crawling around their bodies. It was what their Queen had created them for since the Scorplings could not be spawned, or be able to survive, on their own.

Hours dragged by as the party of Changelings made slow progress through the earth. Finally, they breached into another tunnel. The digger was the first through the hole, claws ready to tear into flesh instead of rock. The Scorplings were second through as they flowed around the Digger to scurry down the tunnels. Their new physiology allowed the Scorplings to walk on the walls and ceilings, something that they now used to try to be the first to potential prey. As the Digger folded the bone appendages against his back, the “normals” exited the tunnel. Wordlessly, they split into two groups and proceeded down each tunnel in the Scorplings' wake. Each group had one Swarm Father with them.

The last out of the tunnel was a Changeling that was taller than any of the drones. The Digger looked up at the more angular face with it's red, reptilian eyes. While the changelings had all been entirely covered in chitin, this Changeling wore the gray chitin as an organic armored vest, the rest of it's body covered in black few. The black wings extended from the chitin and were currently flared in a regal pose.

This Changeling caressed the Digger's head, causing the bone appendages to quiver in excitement.

<You did well, my child. I am now glad to have spent the time to research your genes.>

The Digger did not reply. There was no need. What would a drone have to say to their Queen when all was instantly understood over the Hive Mind? The sound of battle and screams of fear and pain echoed down the otherwise silent tunnels. From behind the Queen, another monstrosity to the purity of life emerged. This creature barely looked like a Changeling as it stood on six legs that ended in spikes. The head and body were one as it formed a delta shape that came up to form a ridge. Twelve sacs covered it's back. Each one was filled with a red liquid and had a similarly colored egg suspended in it. Nymphs were gathered underneath it's shadow, moving as a blob with the lumbering, organic Incubator. At the center of the mass of Nymphs was a young Incubator. The Queen was pleased to see that it would soon be ready to morph into it's adult form.

Yes, she thought, my brood will survive. Those other queens hide in their hives and cities. All of them would be easy targets for the other species.

With a smile on muzzle, the Queen began down the right hand tunnel. The Digger quickly took place in front of it's Queen with it' claws poised to strike at anything foolish enough to charge it. The Incubator lumbered behind the royal, surprisingly keeping pace with the Queen's quickened pace. Most of the Nymphs kept the pace, their instinct to stay beneath the Incubator causing them to break into a sprint.

The party didn't have to walk long as they came to a chamber the size of a throne room. Both the tunnels had converged on this room, as evident by the entire raiding party being present. The corpses of Diamond Dogs were piled off to the side while three injured Dogs were held prisoner by a seething ring of Scorplings. On the other side of the chamber were over two dozen ponies huddled together in a cordon created by her scant dozen Changelings. Upon seeing the Queen's entrance, both non-'Ling parties let out a whimper.

On a broader examination, the Queen saw that the chamber was nearly painted in blood and viscera. Most, if not all, of it belonged to the slain Diamond Dogs but the Queen could pick out the wounds on her drones. She sighed as she expanded her connection with the hive mind. She could feel the minds of the hundred other children she had. She watched through their eyes as they swarmed the tunnels like as a flood of gray chitin. She saw a Dog disappear beneath a sea of Scorplings from the eyes of a Swarm Father. From the eyes of a Digger, she watched as it speared a Dog's armored torso with it's claws, the armor acting as if it was mere paper. The Digger then violently ripped the claws outward, tearing the bipedal canine in half.

This was not without loss. From the eyes of an Incubator, she watched as a “normal” got speared through it's barrel as another Dog used a primitive flamethrower to roast a swarm of Scorplings and their Father. She watched through a Normal as a band of Diamond Dogs broke through the tunnel wall and fell on a Digger as if they were a band of thugs before turning to the rest of the party with snarls on their muzzles. Her link with the normal was abruptly cut as a spear was thrust into it's skull.

The backlash launched the Queen back into the immediate world. A world that smelled of death and fear. A world that sounded of a bright future. She briefly brushed the Mind, feeling no only the battling Drones but also feeling the Drones that had been left behind. Numerous Incubators, one holding the alchemically dormant egg of a royal, were guarded by dozens of Drones. Also with them was the love and food stores, all of them being organic in nature.

Some of the other Queens may call her 'Lings “twisted” or “a mockery of the First Mother's image” but this Brood's Queen laughed at their disgust and distrust. Fools. All of them are fools! They quote the First Mother but forget her message... her method. She changed us, evolved us, to survive that treacherous forest. Just as I have evolved my children to survive this nomadic life I have chosen. When they all fall by their stagnant behavior, I will thrive by my willingness to adapt!

“E-excuse m-me.”

The Queen swung her head to face the mound of terrified ponies. It wasn't hard to find the speaker as she was the who had been pushed from the protection of the herd, said herd fixing glares upon her shaking form. Such pitiful creatures, unable to adapt.

“Speak quickly since you have began. Hesitate and I will allow my Nymphs to feed upon you and,” she brushed the young minds of the Nymphs under the close Incubator. She could taste their primal rage and their hunger. She gave a toothy grin to the pony, “they are quite hungry.”

The soil beneath the pony darkened, the spot spreading as the liquid seeped through. The Queen ignored this, having had many such instances happen before.

“W-who are you a-and ca-an we g-go?”

“Hmm, a two part question. Most dangerous to pose such a thing to a Queen,” she found amusement in how the pony's body quaked with fear, “but I will answer you nonetheless,” the pony's quaking slowed... by a fraction, “I am Queen Viator, Mother of this Brood, and I'm afraid that I cannot let you go. Not right now, at least.”

“Wh-what do you want from u-us?” the mare questioned further. While she is tripping over her words and has sullied herself like a Nymph, I can see she is quite the courageous one.

“Such a wonderful question,” Viator purred as she walked over, her hips swinging enough to make the walk appear as more of a sashay. She closed on the mare and gave a genuine smile as the mare made no move to back away. The Changeling Queen lied down to be eye-to-eye with the mare. She raised a hoof and gently caressed the pony's cheek. The mare closed her eyes, tears squeezing past, but did not flinch otherwise, “Such weak bodies yet such strong spirit. You may have a use separate then your fellows,” she lowered her hoof from the mare's face, “But that was not the answer you sought. I want two things from you. First: I wish for a tribute to be given to my Brood. Second: I wish for you to tell what has happened today, what you have witnessed.”

“Y-you want us to w-warn the Sisters?”

“I want you to warn all of your pony siblings. Tell them of my Brood. Tell them the truth or weave a tale, it is not of my concern. My only concern is that they know.”

The mare nodded, “And what about the t-tribute? We have n-nothing to give.”

She is growing at ease at talking with me. Good. She will be useful down the road.

Viator laughed, her voice strangely melodic for a being of nightmares. The laugh lasted a full minute before the Queen calmed enough to speak. Before she did, she placed a hoof to the mare's chest, “You already have the only thing my Brood needs.”

Confusion was quickly replaced with understanding as Viator withdrew her hoof, “Y-you want our l-love?”

Viator giggled, “I do. Don't think of me as ignorant, however. I know it will not come willingly but... that is not a problem for me. Don't worry, the process doesn't hurt much and we will take only a little. Spread out amongst the number of you pony prisoners and surviving Dog wardens, I will have enough to feed my hive for quite a long time.”

The mare visibly gulped before giving a weak chuckle, “I-I guess we don't have much choice.”

Viator smirked, “You do not.”

“This is madness!” screamed a stallion from within the tightly clustered herd, “I'm not giving my love to that... that THING!”

The herd broke just enough to allow the stallion to make a bolt out of the Drone cordon. Viator spoke no words that the ponies could hear. They simply watched as the Digger, which had remained at it's Queen side, pounced on the fleeing pony and used one claw to spear the pony's flank from one side to the other. By the placement of the strike, and the face that it remained within the pony, the stallion was still alive as he coughed up blood between bouts of screaming.

“Kill...me!” he shouted at Viator. A simple nod of the head from the Queen and the Digger speared the stallion's head, silencing his screams. Though the stallion was dead, the Digger held the corpse over it's back as it it was a trophy, crimson blood dropping onto it's chitin.

The Queen looked upon the shaking ponies. The mare she had been conversing with had rejoined the herd, eyes mere pinpricks in terror.

“Anyone else wish to run?” Viator asked. She was met with silence, causing her to smile, “Very good.”

Very good indeed.

The Promise

The Professor walked down the nearly empty street. As with many of his workdays, he had left the university after the moon had risen. While Fillydelphia was a city know for having an active nightlife, the Professor's path took him nowhere near those areas of the city. For that he was most grateful, especially on this night. Having talked about the Changelings had brought up memories that the Professor had suppressed long ago.

The Professor's trip down Memory Lane was interrupted as a young filly came galloping up to him. Tears were running down her cheeks as she screamed, “Mister, you have to help me! It's my mom!”

Before the Professor could say anything, the filly turned and darted down the road. She then hooked a right into one of the city's many alleyways. With adrenaline pumping in his veins, the Professor galloped after the filly. When he turned into the alleyway, he found that he had lost sight of the small pony.

“Hello?” he called, walking into the alley with his eyes scanning for the filly.

“Over here! Hurry!”

The voice had originated from further down the alley, out of sight behind one of the dumpsters. As if in confirmation, the filly stuck her head into view and waved him on with her hoof.

“Hurry!”

Obliging, the Professor was by the filly's side in a couple seconds. He saw that there was indeed someone behind the dumpster but it was not the wounded mare he had been expecting. In the dark of the alley, he was only able to make out the red, feline eyes, the gray chitin vest, and the rows of teeth that were pulled back in a deceptively warm smile.

The stallion's higher cognitive processes shut down, leaving the primal sections of his brain to react to the situation before him. Said sections were quick in their decision to run and find the herd. When the stallion turned to beat a retreat, however, he was met with a wall of gray chitin. Letting out a yelp, he turned to charge out the other end of the alley and was met with two winged Drones hissing at him.

Shaking, he backed himself against the wall opposite of the Queen. To his left he had the hissing Drones, to his right was a Drone that was taller than it's siblings and had a bone-claw arching over it's head in a threatening manner, and in front of him was the Queen and the “filly”. Said “filly” dropped her disguise to reveal a Changeling that's appearance was the same as the Drones to his left but was about the size of a small dog rather than an adult pony.

“Do try to refrain from peeing yourself,” the Queen insisted, “this alley smells bad enough already.”

“Y-y-you...”

“I can see it in your eyes that you remember me. I'm sure you also remember what happens when somepony fails to cooperate.”

An image of a stallion being stabbed by bone-claws flashed through the Professor's mind before he nodded dumbly, glancing apprehensively at the large Drone to his right.

“H-h-” he swallowed and took a deep breath before trying again, “How did you find me?”

A chuckle emanated from the shrouded Queen, “Why Professor, I keep tabs on everypony that I have released.”

“Have you been the one killing us?” the stallion asked, his anger rising despite his situation, “You said-”

“I know what I said,” the Queen replied heatedly, “and I am not one to go back on my word. It had been another Queen, Saladrus,” the name was spoken with a hiss of malice, “who had silenced your fellows. They had made true in their promise and spoken of me. Sadly, that is what got them killed.”

The Professor gulped upon hearing of the exchange he had made all those years ago, “I-I would've spoken but I-I was afraid when the others started dying.”

“As you had every right being,” the Queen admitted, “and I am actually glad that you had remained silent. My Drones have made me aware of some unsettling things happening in your dear Equestria.”

“The invasion.”

“To name one of many, yes. There has been a great uprooting of many infiltrators of other Hives,” she explained.

“Upon revelation that the Changelings were real, the Princesses began to...” the Professor trailed off, trying to think of the right word. He was also trying to come to terms with how easy it was to speak to the Queen, though his life was in her hooves.

“Clean house?”

“Yes, exactly. According to the news, one of the Ambassadors had been hiding their Changeling identity, prompting the Sisters to have the Guard sniff out any other infiltrators.”

“Hmm,” the Queen hummed. Even through the blackness of night, the Professor could see the smile on the Queen's lips. From where he now sat next to the wall, he shifted slightly as his gaze passed over the smallest Changeling.

“Have some of yours been caught?”

“No,” she shook her head as she began to caress the head of the small Changeling, who was leaning into the Queen's chest as a pony foal might with their mother, “my infiltrators have been... adapted to disguise as children. So much freely given love. It would have been a crime not to take advantage of it.”

The Professor's eyes lit up with the spark of learning, “Really? If I may ask-”

“You may not,” she interrupted sternly, “Everything I have told you, or you have seen, of my children must not be repeated to your students or any other pony. With this new chaos, I have been able to slip into the shadows and I do not wish to leave them.” Yet.

“Oh. Alright,” he replied, genuinely saddened. His lowered gaze brought his forelegs into view, the white fur making them visible even in the dark alley.

“Professor, though I have enjoyed this small talk, I fear that my children grow restless and we have not even reached the main point of my... visit.”

“We haven't?”

Again, the Queen chuckled, “No. I wish for you to be my eyes and ears, Professor. With my brood always on the move, I find myself unable to keep track of the workings of the rest of the world. Normally, I would care for little but the continued survival of my children but... I see an interesting future, Professor. I need to know how my Hive will fit within it.”

“If you're always moving, how will I be able to inform you?”

The Queen flashed her teeth in a smile as her horn took on a red glow, “You simply need to look for the rose upon the burnt stem.”

“Wha-” a sleep induced blackness quickly enveloped the Professor's mind. When he woke hours later, he found a parchment in front of his face. Pictured on the parchment was a picture of a red rose with a black stem.

“Look for the rose upon the burnt stem,” mumbled the Professor with a smirk, snorting in amusement. Standing, he dusted himself off and looked to the night sky. Unable to see the moon with the buildings being so tightly clustered around him, he made for the alley's exit.

-_-_-_-_-

<My Queen, what if he tells the Guard about us? We should have insisted that a collector had gone with him. Played the part of his child.>

Viator looked at the Drone that walked beside her. He was almost as tall as she was, an effect of being one of her consorts. Only one of his two claws remained, the other now only half a foot long and ending in jagged bone. He had lost his other claw in a skirmish with the Diamond Dogs. This Digger had been the one that had allowed her entry into the Diamond Dog tunnel system on the day that set the Professor, Utonium was his name, free of his wardens.

<He won't speak, Renati.> He was also the only Drone to have a name, <His fear of death and pursuit of the academic will keep him from revealing us. And the sudden inclusion of a child in his life would have simply raised suspicion. He will do what I have asked.>

<And if, for some reason, he doesn't?>

The Queen stopped, Renati stepping two steps after her. He looked back, confused.

<If he betrays me,> Viator raised a hoof to caress the crippled Digger's cheek. The appendages on his back quivered in excitement as he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, <I will allow you a chance to bloody your claw once more.>

She lowered her hoof and continued walking down the tunnel, Renati quick to resume his place at her side. The two winged Drones that had been with them on the surface had already gone ahead of the two to resume previous duties while the collector had reapplied her disguise and disappeared into the city.

That did not mean they were alone. Far from it, in fact, for all around them were the Drones of Viator's Rogue Hive. They moved up and down a myriad of tunnels, to include some of the sewers of Fillydelphia, like ants moving about in their colony. Every surface space was taken up by one Drone or another. For their Queen and her consort, however, they parted in a manner akin to waves crashing into the prow of a ship.

Entering a chamber, the Queen allowed herself the chance to survey the organized chaos around her. There, in the center, Incubators were caring for the Nymphs charged to their care as the eggs on their backs grew ever closer to hatching. Over on one side of the chamber, she could see their love harvests being made ready for transit. On the other side of the chamber, she could see their physical rations also being prepped for transit.

Her eyes returned to the Incubators in the center. More specifically, she focused on the one that had no Nymphs beneath it. This Incubator was the only of it's kind and held only one egg. Within the vibrant red egg, Viator's eyes saw a future royal. Within her mind, Viator saw the future, one where her Hive and the Hive of her daughter would become so powerful as to be able to claim surface land as their own. They would be able to fend off all foes and grow ever stronger.

She saw a rebirth of the Changeling race. She saw herself as the Second Mother.

This future was close to Viator's grasp but was costing her dearly. Her population was small with many being of the foal-size collectors. All of her population was feeling the effects of the royal egg in their midst as they only ever had enough love to barely make it through the day. She knew that this would happen, however, and accepted it with a heavy heart. In order to bring about my future, sacrifices must be made.

<My Queen?>

Viator blinked before looking at the speaker, Renati. As she did, she came to the realization that she had stopped in the center of the chamber next to the special Incubator. She had been gazing blankly at the growing form within the egg. Renati, her most faithful Drone, stood at her side, as he had done from the day he hatched. Viator sometimes found herself wondering why he had done this. Perhaps there was a flaw with his egg?

<Worry not, Renati. I am merely planning for the future.>

<Of course, my Queen. The Hive awaits your command.>

Viator pondered for a mere moment. She needed more love for the egg. Though she wished to expand her hive's gene-pool, the welfare of a future Queen always came first. She, of course, had seen this coming and had already figured a plan on how to keep the egg fed without breaking the Hive's love supply.

<We move South, to the sewers of Manehatten. Our current stores will appease the egg for only so long.>

<At once, my Queen.>

As one, the tide of gray turned and began to funnel out of the chamber. They scattered to tunnels that ran toward their destination, tunnels already teeming with their brothers. However, gaps were made and quickly filled, allowing the exodus to be a smooth thing. The Nymphs remained under the Incubators, protected from the onslaught of hooves surrounding them. Scorplings stayed within or on the chitin of the Swarm Fathers. On the Drones that had wings or bone-claws, the appendages twitched in excitement. They were moving. They would hunt. They would expand.

They would survive.

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