The Royal castle grounds were abuzz with activity as the public and throngs of reporters all vied for a clear view of the large stage and podium that had been hastily erected to house the open air press conference. Despite the Crown's best attempts to keep news of the Hive raid under wraps, an intel leak had sprung, and the ravenous media had pounced upon it. Spinning newspapers and magazines spattered in blurry pictures of a strange twin rotored craft and an armoured Goliath alongside artist renditions of a ravenous horde of cartoonish changelings, the media had set the population into a frenzy. Conspiracy theories were strung along, nobles out of the know bickered, and unnamed ‘professional military sources’ fed tiny tidbits of information without background. Celestia and Luna had watched from above with growing apprehension as their subordinates scrambled to cover the leaks.

But, like the old Terran tale about a little Dutch boy with his finger in the dike, the impending collapse of order was coming upon them swiftly.

Thus, Celestia had announced a press conference, promising the truth and explanations to a curious populace.

“You sure they need me out there?” Jack asked as he sat propped up on his bed with bandages around his bare chest.

Taven rolled his eyes as he shifted in his parade dress. “Yes, you're supposed to ease the worries that the princesses have a remorseless killing machine at their disposal.”

Chuckling as he sat up, only to interrupt his own mirth with a grunt of pain, Jack settled on a light smirk as he rubbed his bruised chest. “So don't show up armed to the teeth, or sober. Gooootcha.”

Rolling his eyes at the marine’s slow movements, Taven began prodding him out of bed, earning a long string of curses and complaints.”Come on Staff Sergeant, they might give you a medal.”

“Ow. Fuck, ow! Stahp!” Jack flailed a hand at the Batpony, swatting him across the muzzle several times as he was pushed and prodded out of bed. “I'm wounded! This is uncalled for harassment!

Pushing Jack off the bed, Taven fought down a smile of his own as Jack hit the floor with a muted thump.

“...ow.”

“Ready to get up now? There's supposed to be free breakfast.”

Hopping to his feet and ignoring the sore bruises that painted his chest black and purple, Jack stretched and grunted as his body popped and crackled. “See, you shoulda opened with that.” He rubbed at his bandages lightly before meandering into the bathroom.

“Those bruises can't be bothering you that much, Jack. You complained less when you got shot.” Taven leaned against the wall by the bathroom door and listened as the tap started.

Splashing water on his face, Jack grunted before responding. “Cuz the doctors fixed me up with all of that fancy healing magic and gave me a fuckin’ lolipop. I think they held back on me in revenge this time around. Stingey bastards.”

With a laugh, Taven stuck his head inside the door. “Held back on what, the healing magic or the candy?”

“Both! I only knocked out one nurse, and that was… how long ago was that….?” He made a face as his brain churned to remember. A look of concern began to cross his features before he was interrupted.

Taven shook his head before pulling it back out of the bathroom. “I'm surprised you even got hurt. I thought that suit of yours was impervious to magic and anything short of the apocalypse.”

“Yeah, well-” Jack spat into the sink and began running a comb through his scraggly beard. “The rest of me ain't. And getting tossed around like a ragdoll and shot to bits tends to leave bruises.”

“Still, an entire hive on your own, that's-”

“Wasn't the game plan and really goddamn dumb. Now I'm down a sack of explosives, four micro-rockets and my chestplate looks like… uh… a hill range of some sort… uh… fuck, it looks shot to shit. I mean, that ceramic plate isn't gonna be easy to replace out here. Hell, the comms unit alone is a nasty loss… What I wouldn't give for just one box of spare parts.”

Sighing as Jack walked out of the bathroom and began the hunt for his clean cammies, Taven began to follow him around. “I bet the princesses can have it fixed up right away Jack. It just won't be the super tiny, ultra fancy technology you're used to.”

Slipping into his cammies and sighing softly as he straightened himself out, Jack looked toward the door. “Yeah, I think their scientists just about creamed themselves when I left my armour there to be ‘repaired’.” He muttered quietly about the princesses screwing him, and Taven pretended that he didn't catch every word that was said. Sighing as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Jack gestured toward the door. “Let's get this over with.”

______________________________________________________________________

Fidgeting as she stood next to Celestia and Luna. Flitter knew that the crowd outside was growing to ridiculous proportions. The courtyard was filled to the brim, and the skies above were choked with flitting pegasi. The press were thankfully mostly sequestered off in their own separate section, making them easier to avoid, but Flitter had been warned that junior journalists and lower profile writers would be lacing the crowd to be sure.

She had always hated crowds. Flitter closed her eyes as she rubbed her cheek lightly. The reports that had rolled in from the squad's accompanying Jack had initially been blown off as nonsense by the higher ups, or had been until Flitter had managed to hook Jack's helmet up to his PDA. Watching the entire mission unfold before their eyes had changed the brass’s tune quickly, and all remaining voices of disbelief went silent when Chrysalis's head was reduced to a fine mist. Congratulations went around the tables again and again, even from officer's who'd had no part in the operation. They had all just been so pleased with themselves that it didn't matter. There were talk of medals, of rewards and promotions. Of course, Flitter knew that almost none of them were meant for Baron, or Jack, or Snake.

Flitter shook her head to clear away the rogue thoughts and forced herself to focus on the now. Celestia was about to go out and greet the crowd, whereas She and Luna were to walk out with Jack. Baron would go unmentioned and Snake would only be mentioned in passing. Of course. That was how things were supposed to go. The top brass didn't want some human or a changeling outdoing their best. Or at least, they didn't want the public to know one had.

“Are you two ready?” Celestia looked over the both of them, a look of motherly concern gracing her features.

Nodding as she shined her shoe on her chest, Luna smiled in return. “Yes-” she turned her head to gauge Flitter, before turning back. “We're ready. Sergeant Taven should be retrieving Jack now.”

“Good.” Celestia nodded. “That's good. I imagine the crowd will have many questions for him.” She took a breath as she looked back toward the castle doors and the sound of Jack's boots grew closer. “Let us begin.”

Trotting with dignified precision onto the stage, Celestia stopped before the podium and greeted her little ponies.

Back inside the castle, Jack rounded the final corner and was greeted by Flitter and Luna. Smiling lightly to try and disguise his lack of sleep, Jack snapped a fast and sloppy salute as he walked. “So the game plan is for me to run around screaming, right?”

Luna smirked as she watched her sister explain the recent events, and briefly outline the mission in the most politically correct terms possible. “No, they don't need a reenactment of your first time in the castle.”

“Very funny, princess.” Jack muttered as he fixed himself up and finished tucking his shirt in. “Anything I should avoid talking about?”

Looking up to her mentor, Flitter received a nod of approval. Smiling toward Jack, she began to detail things to him. “Try to avoid talking about our new gear, don't go into detail about the mission or the offensive abilities of the changelings, and um… try not to mention the ponies you had to… provide mercy to.” That section of the mission had churned stomachs, and Flitter was sure the screams would haunt her for the rest of her life. If the look of pain that flicked across his eyes when she spoke of it was any indication, Flitter knew that they'd be with Jack as well. “Please don't detail JSOG, ummm... Am I missing anything?” She looked up toward Luna for guidance.

“Try to avoid informing the public that you performed nearly the entire mission without back-up. Our soldiers would never forgive you.”

Jack smiled winningly toward the pair as Celestia neared the point where she'd call them out. “Of course I didn't do it alone, I had Baron, and I mean, I wouldn't want to offend those guys who stayed behind and kept my seat warm. Real MVP’s.” He refocused on the doors and took a breath. “I fuckin’ hate crowds.”

Outside, Celestia called out the trio, and the crowd stomped their applause. Forced to leave the safety of the castle by the ponies behind him, Jack took the betrayal in stride and marched out like he was a marine coming fresh off the block. Standing behind Celestia with his hands clasped behind his back, Jack put on a small smile and did his best to not fall asleep standing. He soon didn't have to worry, with all the flashbulbs going off like gunshots and ponies screaming for his attention. The tiny ball of stress that had settled into his mind over the ordeal began to steadily grow, up until he was called to the podium to answer questions.

Gripping the podium with both hands to steady himself against the onslaught, Jack had to swallow his tongue and smother his grimace as he was grilled by the public and press. Who was he, why was he here, was he apologetic over how many ponies had been hurt during the human uprising? The questions drilled on, getting deeper into the root of things. How many changelings did he kill? Were the changelings a real threat to Canterlot? Are they going to retaliate? What is a chemical weapon? How was he able to kill so easily? Did he threaten our soldiers needlessly for glory? Jack's fake smile had long since bled away into his expressionless mask. Occasionally the princesses would take control of the questions, leading the crowd away from sensitive topics and letting them in on vague truths while he stood there, trying to keep his cool.

The entire ordeal made him sick.

With the flashbulbs blanketed his eyes with spots that refused to ebb, and the drilling questions of the press that shamelessly buried knives in his brain, Jack was swiftly losing patience with the situation entirely.

“Who gave you the right to kill indiscriminately?” One reporter snarked hotly toward Jack. The reporter was a pegasi, who hovered before the podium with a microphone and a stuck up look. Jack had been warned prior about the sensationalist firestarters, and this pegasi was certainly one of them.

What gives you the right? The question bounced away inside his head, churning the images that the entire event had dredged up from the past. What gives me the right? He grit his teeth in fury as Luna moved to intercept the question. Gripping the podium with both hands and leaning forward. “Who gave me the right?” He practically snarled, causing all eyes to fall on him instantly. “The Marine Corp gave me the right to defend myself and my brothers in arms. My government, gave me the right to defend all peoples in need! Your government gave me the right to defend you, in your time of need! The enemies of freedom, the enemies who would slaughter innocents wholesale, GAVE ME THE GODDAMN RIGHT TO KILL THEM! Every serial killer, every war criminal, every last bastard who would drag a mother away from her child to murder her, GAVE ME THE RIGHT! And you know what? Give me the chance and I'll parade right back in there and finish the job!” Luna placed a hoof on his side and tried to whisper something into his ear, but he'd already gone too far, and there was no turning back. “I'll take on every killer, every blood stained terror from here to the moons of Saturn if I have to! I'll fight and kill every last one of those ravenous bastards if it means a child doesn't have to go through that pain! To see the things I've seen! To live the horrors I've lived!“

Tugging hard on his hand, Luna spoke loudly in his ear as the public and press clamoured for more, demanding details and juicy tidbits. “That's enough Jack, let's get you inside.”

Nodding jerkily, Jack turned from the podium and left the chaos for Celestia to contend with. “Please, everyone calm down-”

The castle doors slammed shut behind Luna, and the others, shutting out the maelstrom of outside. Working his palms into his eyes, Jack let out a long groan of anger as Luna shook her head and shared a look of concern with Flitter. With his anger obviously being pent up so badly to the point that he practically vibrated, Jack clenched his fists and shook his head vehemently.

“Fuckin’ bullshit….”

Luna turned toward him with displeasure evident on her features. “Jack, go cool off. I need to help my sister deal with this. Taven, Flitter, could you…?” The princess smiled weakly as the pair nodded. Jack paced the grand entrance, his hands laced behind his head as he focused on breathing. Leaning close to the pair, Luna spoke in a near whisper. “Please keep an eye on him, and don't let any of the castle staff ask him questions.” Quietly, the princess turned away from the pair and trotted back outside, inadvertently letting in a burst of noise from outside. It sounded like the crowd was in an uproar.

Turning to Flitter, Taven cast a long glance over toward Jack as he paced and cursed under his breath. “Any ideas?”

Shaking her head to the Sergeant, Flitter looked from the doors and then back to Jack. “What a disaster…” She perked immediately as Jack turned on his heels and began to stomp down the halls. “Come on, let's make sure he's left alone.”

With Flitter and Taven cantering to catch up to him, Jack ran his fingers through his mop of hair and let out a strained breath through clenched teeth. “Doesn't matter where I am, nothing ever changes.” The familiar itch returned to his veins, that quiet little keening need for something to take the edge off, the tiny voice begging for release. He glanced over his shoulder at the pair following him and shook his head. Not in front of them, you worthless junkie.

He nearly passed by the kitchen, but a quick thought sent him back toward the door. Taven sighed stiffly while Flitter cocked an eyebrow. “Jack?”

“Just a pitstop.” He ducked into the kitchen and made an immediate beeline for the alcohol cabinet. Before his tails could intervene though, the head chef spotted him and flew into a rage.

“YOU! Get out of my kitchen you filthy mongrel! DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!” The diminutive unicorn stallion stormed over, intent on impeding Jack's progress to the cabinets holding his prize. Flashing his horn, the chef grabbed several knives and brandished them at the rampaging human.

All of the fire for fight in the unicorn's eyes died when Jack grabbed him by the horn and squeezed his hand like a vice. Leaning close Jack barred his teeth and snarled. “You pull a weapon on me, you better be damn ready to use it. “ He suddenly released the chef's horn and spread his arms. “Well? Do it. Come on, don't be shy, just stab me already.”

The chef stared at him as if he'd gone mad, but from the look in Jack's eyes, that wasn't too far from the truth. The knives in the chef's grip faltered as he backed up slightly. “I-”

Jack snarled “Pussy.” before continuing his path to the alcohol cabinet. Pulling it open he only grabbed two of the lowest shelf of drinks. With both bottles tucked under his arm he marched straight passed the cowed chef and his own shadows. Resuming his course to his room, Jack hadn't even arrived in his hall by the time he was tucked thoroughly into the first bottle.

Shouldering his door open, Jack all but fell onto his bed. Taking a long pull off the bottle that finished it off, he began pulling at his leg pins. Taven and Flitter closed the door behind themselves, before casting worried looks over at him. Kicking off his legs, Jack all but ripped off his cammie top before taking another long pull of the second bottle. “No matter where I fucking go, nothing seems to change. You know how annoying that is?” He made a face as the two ponies closed the distance.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, while Taven stood back, Flitter sighed and asked “What do you mean?”

“I mean the fuckin’ civies and the god damn media! It's always the same questions! Did you kill anyone? Huh? Didyah didyah?” He took another pull before flopping down into the covers. “Yeah, yeah I have… I've gotten a lot of people killed…”

Placing a hoof on his stumped thigh, Flitter glanced over toward Taven with concern in her eyes. “Jack, you did everything you could in the hive. Those ponies are alive because of you.”

“And if I'd been a little faster, that kid would still have his father.” Jack shot back hotly before his anger ebbed away to sorrow. “Never fucking fast enough… I wasn't ready for that shit…” He shuddered and stared at the ceiling with wide eyes as Taven carefully removed the bottle from his grip. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath through his nose. “Y'all can go now… y’got me back here. I'm not going anywhere.”

Moving so her head was now resting on his tattooed and scarred chest, Flitter gave him a reassuring nuzzle. “I'm not going anywhere Jack.” She glanced over as Taven carefully pulled his armour plates off. “And neither is Taven. We're going to make sure you're alright.”

“Alright you big bastard, I'm coming up there.” Taven declared as he hopped up onto the bed and lightly head-butted Jack. “And to Tartarus with those media buzzards. You could have run into a burning building to save kittens, and they would heckle you for animal abuse.”

Huffing in agreement and continuing to stare at the ceiling above, Jack wrapped his arms around both ponies heads and pulled them in close. With their muzzles nearly touching and Jack's fingers scritching away slowly, Flitter flushed and diverted her eyes. “Sergeant.”

“Lieutenant.” Taven answered briskly as he settled in for the long haul. “Staff Sergeant, you are more warm than any furless creature has a right to be.”

Jack grunted lightly before letting our a long breath. “It's the alcohol…” He shifted in the bed; his stumped thighs kicking uselessly against the sheets as he fought for purchase. “God damn legs…” He grit his teeth in anger. “God damn IED’s…”

Putting her hooves on his chest and making calming noises, Flitter gently nuzzled him back down. “Shh, easy Jack, easy… it's gonna be alright. You did all you could.”

Allowing himself to be coaxed down, Jack felt himself slowly succumbing to the effects of his shotgunned bottle of booze and the desire to just go to sleep and never wake up. “They looked like people… why did they look like people?” Flitter and Taven shared a look of concern as the human below them eventually passed out. His sleep was turbulent and rife with nightmares, but that wasn't his only worry.

______________________________________________________________________

Far away from the bustle of Canterlot, and deep underground within the broken remains of a changeling hive, Chrysalis's noble caste bickered between each other and vied to be the loudest voice present. They argued back and forth over the future of their hive, and over who would lead it to said future.

One of the nobles, the leader of the infiltrator caste, shook her head in regards to the leader of the soldier caste’s plan. “Xerox, that plan is foolish and you know it! We can no longer force ourselves onto the ponies or other hives for sustenance, brute force has failed us, as have you.”

“And what would you have us doing, hmm Hewlett? Scatter to the four winds and disappear into pony civilisation with our tails between our legs? That's unacceptable! Our hive was attacked because Chrysalis’ pony brained schemes failed her once and for all, and her new master failed to provide her with aid that was promised!”

Glancing up from his hoof, the leader of the worker caste, Erebus, snorted in derision. “The weapons are gone, your soldiers are decimated, and if my drone’s claims are correct, which I believe then to be, one of your caste led the iron golem into our home. You've got no ground to stand on. I say we move our hive and re-establish ourselves elsewhere.”

“You'll watch your tongue, drone-lord!”

The nobles conversation quickly devolved back into squabbling and bickering as the rest of the hive watched on. High up in one of the many offshooting tunnels, a small pack of human-changeling hybrid survivors gathered and looked over the bickering nobles. Almost all of the hybrids were twisted, lame creatures that Chrysalis's doctors had deemed genetic failures upon hatching, but one among them had been everything she had wish for. He was strong and swift, cunning and intelligent. She had been grooming him in silence, grooming him to overtake the worthless nobles below him.

One of the more intelligent hybrid approached their leader and peeked over the edge of the tunnel at the nobles down below. “You should be down there, Darneil. You hear the Lord’s voice, like our queen did.”

Setting his chitin covered hand on his brother's bulbous hunched back, Darneil simply gazed down at the heated argument that festered below. “And our new lord demands order. Those below us have no respect for it.” His wings buzzed with agitation as he looked down upon them. “I must recover our Lord's gift to our Queen, before the usurpers find it. They will bow to order; whether through force or free will, it matters not to me.”

Darneil set off back into the tunnels, headed toward the Queen's old chambers, while his twisted brethren melted back into the shadows. Working his way through the maze of tunnels, on occasion Darneil would pass over the deep-set tread marks the Iron Goliath had left in his wake. The smell of burnt flesh and gunpowder still clung to the hive, tainting it. Bodies were still being disposed of, and a large number of tunnels had become unstable from the blast. Entering the Queen's chambers, Darneil began his search while he considered the golem. The nobles believed it to be a construct of the Equestrians, a tool made for war that had struck the hive down like a petulant child. Darneil knew better, for he had seen the creature, heard it speak. He had watched how it had moved, how it struck down soldiers and breeders with fury and malice.

He knew the golem was no such creature, but instead a man. A man who could be killed.

A feeling of calm spread across Darneil’s chitin as he neared the Queen's lockbox. Finding the box unlocked, Darneil slowly lifted the lid and felt his breath catch in his chest as his eyes fell on the artefact within. Gingerly reaching forward to pluck it from its velvet entrapments, Darneil couldn't stop himself from running his jet black fingers over the perfectly smooth, symmetrical mask. It contorted itself in his grip, shifting from a Queen's mask, to a King's. Without hesitation, Darneil placed the mask over his face, and found it to fit his features perfectly.

All thoughts fled his mind as the mask stuck it's metal tendrils into his head and clamped on. What should have been agonizing was instead pleasurable, and soon he found his new thoughts arriving in an orderly fashion. A cold smile spread under the metal mask, and the hybrid’s eyes began to glow a ghostly white.

It was time to reclaim what had been lost.

______________________________________________________________________

Across the mountain ranges that defined the border between Equestria and Griffonian, an equally sinister plot was broiling in the heart of the griffon capital. In the shadows of his room, Carolus Rex watched as his family spoke with Ada while she stood by one of their landed airships. She was on her way to Canterlot, to help another human with a project that worried him. A part of him was simply elated to have the nosey bitch out of his feathers, while the more pragmatic portion of his brain quietly mused that an unwatched enemy was twice as strong. With a huff, Carolus turned from the window and paced across his room.

The time wasn't right to enact the plan that had come to him in his dreams. Conditions were not met, and to act now would mean anarchy and disorder. If there was one thing that Carolus had grown to hate in his time since returning from the frigid north, it was chaos.

His father had been keeping things from him. Rumblings of a multi-nation military group had become the topic of discussion amongst the soldiers of the capital. Only the best were being chosen for intensive special training in the Equestrian capital, and they were going to be chosen very soon. Carolus had nearly raged when he had learned of the news. Not only had his family kept it from him, but they had chosen Ada to go instead of him. While leaving the capital was not in his best interests, it stung to have a filthy human chosen over his own prowess. He knew in his heart that he was the better soldier, and anything to suggest otherwise was a slight against his honor.

Carolus’ eyes flicked to the locked box in which he held the artefact he had retrieved from the northern ruins. It was speaking to him when he dreamt, he knew it. How else would he have discovered that General Steelfeather was planning a coup of his own? Pulling the general into the fold had been a trivial task for Carolus, as the artefact had told him everything he needed to know to do so. The general claimed that he and his soldiers would be loyal, but Carolus had a way to ensure loyalty would be no issue.

Resting his claws upon the fine oak lockbox, Carolus sighed as a wave of calm washed over him and ideas sprung up within his mind like spring lillies. A rare smile graced his features as he turned to watch Ada’s small cutter lift off and begin its journey into Equestria.

“Enjoy your trip while you can, Ada. Learn as much as you can, and when you return, you'll be mine.” He grinned savagely. “All mine.”

______________________________________________________________________

Deep in the recessed of Jack's mind, the small gift that he had been given stirred from his short slumber. Mark furrowed his brow as he looked eastward across the arcing fields of Jack's brain. Though he was a simple shard of his original self, he still held great amounts of power, and could sense the machinations of his greatest foe begin to grind into action. Grumbling and muttering to himself, Mark crossed over Jack's cerebral cortex and dove into his subconscious.

Jack was having another nightmare, this one seemed to be an unholy amalgamation of his recent actions in the changeling hive, and the torture he refused to talk about to anybody. Mark rolled his eyes as Jack's subconscious weaved a terrible image that caused the man to murmur and shift in his sleep.

“Okay big guy, you've played enough.” Mark pushed the twisted changeling version of Dr. Forge off of Jack as he threatened to spear Jack with his ovipositor. Grinning widely at the mangled face before him, Mark patted Jack's bloodied cheek. “Rise and shine buddy boy. You don't want to miss all the fun.”

As Jack stirred violently from his sleep and fell out of bed, Mark smiled and hummed to himself as he began to meander back to whence he came.

Flailing on the floor as he searched for his legs, Jack mumbled and cursed as his stomach rebelled in memory of his nightmare. Crawling frantically across the floor to the bathroom, he barely reached the toilet before vomiting painfully. Voices of concern sounded from his bed, but he felt the need to ignore them as he cleaned himself up and crawled back out of the bathroom.

“Are you alright Jack?” Flitter asked quietly as she brought his legs over to him.

Nodding quickly, Jack began rapidly reattaching his legs. “Yes. I… I need to get out to the field. I need to train.” He stared off toward the east of his room. “I need to train.”