Well there goes my life.

The Commander was in the fetal postion, sucking his swollen hoof as two guards came to the cage's sides. The cage suddenly glowed with a navy blue aura that matched that of the radiant Princess Luna.

"Your'e gonna like your new home bucko," a guard sneered. His partner gave a cackle.

The Commander stumbled to his feet, his face quizzical at the guards comment. "What do you mean?"

The partner gave his friend a look before saying, "You're going to spend your time in the Ponyville Dungeon foal."

Now it was the Commander's turn to laugh. Rolling on the base of the cage, his hooves flailing as if in some contorted spasm. It was a few good minutes before the guffawing subsided.

"You serious? Ponyville Dungeon? That's the best thing I've heard in months! I mean seriously, I know you are all like justice and stuff, but really? A prison? For who, cake thieves? Oh no, the book burglar right? Dear Chrysalis I heard this town was like, one of the prime real estates because of the non-existent crime rate!" He continued to roll on the floor, hooting like a rabid dog.

The guards slanted their eyes and resumed the steady march as they made their way to a bright yellow building with a pink rimmed roof and matching roses sprouting from the borders. A few stragglers from the crowd made it an obligation to follow the prisoner, though why is as much a mystery to the Commander as the reason for his promotion to his prestigious postion in the hive.

"You make me sick!" one unicorn hollered at the top of her lungs. The crowd gave a cheer in agreement, which rebounded off the pastel walls and through the magically-bounded iron bars of the cage. The Commander covered his ears and mouthed the words 'I can't hear you' at the crowd. He got the desired effect.

Mumbling incessantly to themselves, the crowd dispersed, leaving the chirp of crickets and clomp of hooves to echoe in the silent, star-filled night.

"I still find it funny that you have a prison for pony prisoners," the Commander snickered as he crossed his hooves behind his head and extended his body so that his belly faced the moon, "Bet you they haven't been in use for ages."

"Yep." the guard replied back.

Getting up, the Commander hoisted himself so that his snout was just protruding over the bars. His grin was as wide as a crescent, his teeth reflecting the light like a mirror. "So I bet you cleaned it up for your first guest."

"Yeah," the other guard motioned, " we had a few house guests move in, but after some coaxing, we got most of them out."

The Commander gave a slight chuckle. "That was a good one, for a moment you had me there." Clearing his throat, he continued. "You mean you got all of them right?"

"Nope," the guard's lip made a jerk as it bended upwards, forming a slight grin, "just most of them." Then, after pondering at the sky for a moment, added, "But don't worry, they only have eight legs."

The Commander's eyes widened, his mouth drooling saliva that dripped at a steady pace on the dry dirt. "Eight...legs..." he seemed to say in a tone that was in between fear and humor. It was as if the whole cage was closing down on him. He could see it now, back in his days as a hatchling. Eight luminous eyes. A hairy ball of fur that clung to whatever filth it dragged across. Fangs that curve like sickly scimitars. Legs that are as thick as vines, spindling into a mesh of chains that would entrap him.

"You can't put me in the dungeon!" he cried, "I have arachnophobia for Celestia's sake!"

"Oh don't worry," the other guard said, his muscles contracting to hold back the smile forming on his lips," just don't bother them and they won't bother you."

But the Commander was in a stage beyond reason. "Please, I will do whatever it takes to stay as far away from those 8-legged hooligans as possible. I'll polish your armor! I'll clean your living room! I'll stop stealing from my battalion's secret stash. Yes I knew about that, but honestly, who could resist? There were pancakes in there! PANCAKES!"

By this time the guards were focusing all their attention on the road, leaving the Commander to wallow in the recesses of his natural phobia. You'd think living in a hive would mean such creatures were met on a common basis, but for the Commander, it was torture to sleep with one, to where it came to the point that he was sterilizing and cleaning his quarters every night, spraying bug-kill spray that he stole from the swarm's collection crates.

Now he would once again have to share bunks with his mortal foe. It would be a constant battle, a test of courage reserved for only the bravest of the brave who fear the depths of their enemies' small, lifeless, piercing eyes. He, the Commander, would sleep in his cot stoically, bracing the hairy terrors from Tartarus.

The ruby-coated doors peeled away to show a light brown mare with glasses looking over a book, her mane a stormy gray that matched her baggy eyes as it skimmed behind the horn-rimmed glasses that were held by beaded string so that she resembled a librarian.

"Hey Mags," one of the guards tipped his head in the mare's direction.

"Prisoner 1 to Block 1" she droned mechanically.

"There's a Commander in that title missy!" spat the Commander, annoyed at how he was being treated.

But the earth pony just continued to sift through the leaf-like pages of her book, her interest now faded. Though if she ever had some to begin with is still in question.

A dark-wood behemoth of a door with an iron ring showed the entrance to the imposing prison that would be his home. A slit of moonlight peered through to reveal a grey stone interior, where two bunks hung loosely to the thin black frames that struggled to bear the weight of lumpy, molded mattresses. Stains that ranged from brown, to black, to various shades of white and beige dotted the surface like craters. And in the shadows that occupied the corners, tiny, eight-legged specks hustled to and fro, oblivious to their new visitor.

BANG!

The door smothered all the orange light that emanated from the office. He was stuck down here. The Commander paced back and forth, weighing his options. The window was too thin to fly out from. Trying to bypass the guards would be as successful as his last deception with the pretty unicorn. So he was left with redeeming himself or somehow having the whole swarm come to his rescue, which he knew the likelihood of that was more of a joke then a fact.

He decided to move to the mattress and lay his carapace over it. Surprisingly, it was soft and fluffy, but as was expected from a prison where the worst crime that could be done would be to toss an apple and hit somepony square in the face. But then again, if he was in charge, the Commander would just laugh and call it a doozy or something.

He once again crossed his hooves behind his head, his legs and body stretching outward to compensate the length.

"Well this sucks." he hissed to no one in particular, except for maybe, his minuscule enemy. He would be brave however. Sleeping valiantly while his enemies engulfed him. Giving them no pleasure with his guttural screams and cries of anguish. He was the Commander of the Changeling Swarm and in the name of his Queen he would not cry like a filly.

%%%%

His whines and sobs were more like that of a newborn foal as his hooves held a tight grip over the grey-wool blankets. Opening one's mouth to breath would invite death as he heard the scuttle of his nemesis from below. It was going to be a long...long...long...oh stop tormenting him...night.

%%%%

She snuck out of the cottage when the moon was at its highest peak. Shifting into the shadows, she eventually came to a street where she could trot at a casual pace. Not a sound except for the wind and groan of the earth could be heard. The alleyway could be seen a block's distance away.

The red bricks seemed to resemble a sickly imitation of the hive she was once in. In fact, she could almost feel the resin that was secreted to form such delicate structures. The Queen was one who could make beauty out of anything. It was a gift of the changelings. They could make any plain and old cavern into a mystical hallway of living art. Their bodies could morph into perfect, identical, imitations of almost any creature they so choose to be. So how could something that made such amazing art be considered so evil? She had been struggling with this thought since her first assignment.

The others stood in an odd, squished semicircle. Each had adopted his or her own form, though she was sure there were many more out there, disguised. But this was the majority of the battalion.

"So the Commander was captured today," she said in an adopted voice.

"And why should we care," a blue stallion walked in front, " that bloke nearly got us all killed!"

Hisses of agreements and orders to be silent flooded the alleyway. When it was all quiet, she began again.

"He may not be the best," she slowly vocalized," but he is part of the swarm and we do not abandon our own brethren to be condemned while we all hide like cowards."

"But he may prove to be more trouble than he's worth," a bright green pegasus offered, " he may ruin or blow our cover. I'm sorry to say this, but this brother isn't exactly the best at selling the character."

"But if we are to unite, the Commander may be the only leader we have to assemble the family again."

Family was all it took to get everyone's eyes to dart on her. It was true, the Commander may be a nuisance, but he is family and if the swarm is to rebuild, they must show they are united under one empire, one swarm, and one family.

"So what's the plan?"

%%%%

The sun rose over the hills' crest and the cry of a rooster roused the Commander to his hooves as he groggily wiped his eyes. The defeat of last night was inevitable. The audible moaning and bawling was voluntary, though he could argue that it was strictly involuntary and could prove that his hypothalamus had had some responsibility behind it.

The persistent knocking at the door managed to become his second alarm clock, and he slowly, groggily, pulled the wooden bar that shined light through a grated window. The guard at the end slipped what appeared to be a sliver tray through a golden slot at the bottom.

The tray was covered with what looked to be mud disguised as pudding or casserole. " What is this," the Commander muttered, " sewage waste?"

"A welcoming gift from the rats themselves, made with the freshest love bits can buy." The pegasus's tone sounded much like a salespony. The Commander had tried out for that job, but like all other jobs, he was chased out of town and had to outrun the machine that two competing brothers had built.

Leaving the tray to bake in the light, the Commander decided to watch through his peephole that was the metal grating. From this vantage point, he could see that the librarian, as he had now come to refer her as, sitting in the same chair, her attentions drawn to her book while the guard was sitting on a stool, also engaged in a novel. The cover on it showed a tan pegasus with a grey mane and what he could guess was an explorer's cap over her head. The mare was swinging from tree to tree, avoiding an armada of freakish snow golems. He was sure he had seen her before. Back in an old mission he had done. Her name was...was...

"DARING DOO!" The Commander squealed at the top of his lungs. The guard stared at the prisoner's exuberant outburst with a bewildered expression. "You know Daring Do?"

"Why of course I would recognize that mare! I read all her books when I disguised myself as a security guard at a local library. My partner showed me this book and I wasn't interested at first but then I said I would give it a go and boy was I right to read it. I was so into it, I didn't sleep day or night and when we had to leave, I took a few of the extra copies with me. I know stealing is bad and all, but I think I did a pretty good job working there for no pay. Anyway, I still have the collection in my chambers at the nest."

The amount of words took the guard off..well...guard. After getting over the changeling's giddiness on the subject, and seeing that his only other company was a boring receptionist, the pegasus felt that is was no harm in conversing with the second-in-command of his enemies.

"How far have you gotten?" he asked as he walked up to the grating.

"Up to the Mystery of the Chocolate Musketeer," the Commander replied, "I do have to say though that I hated the Crystal Hoof, felt out of place in the series for some reason. I think the author shouldn't have listened to his publisher. That idea almost ruined the whole series for me. Good thing though that the Flaming Cloak came afterwards along with the Subterranean Wonder."

"Yeah," the guard was almost going to hop, but managed to stay discreet, " I thought that book was terrible. But oh well, at least they are back on track to releasing good editions nowadays."

"New editions?" the Commander screamed out loud, "I never knew they had new additions! I already got in trouble twice for sneaking outside the nest to gather more for my collection, but I was self-assured that they ended with Daring Doo riding off into the sunset."

"Nope," the guard chuckled, " they won't end that series until the author goes on a real adventure. And even then, that may just bring in more ideas to write down."

"Wow," the changeling sighed as he gazed at the book, whose title was unfamiliar to his pupils, "do you mind if I could borrow that from you. I know I'm like a prisoner and all, but hey, I could end up complaining and nagging you all day if you don't hand over that copy."

"I'll give you the continuation of the last one you read," the guard placed his book back on his stool, as he muddled over the brown cardboard case that contained the latest volumes, all arranged in a kaleidoscope of colors.

"Ah," he yanked a fiery orange book out of the box, "here it is."

Walking over to the grate, the book seamlessly slipped through the golden slot and into the outstretched hooves of the Commander. Forgetting that his hoof was still injured, he winced and backed away as the book collided with the surface of the floor.

"Shoot," he hastily snatched the book back up, his eyes glowing as if it was staring at solid gold. At the very least, he would have something to do for the time being.

The guard walked back and settled into his stool as he began and the changeling began to read. Hours shifted into minutes as both creatures were captivated at the mare's deed and how risky and daring they were. Right now, the Commander was holding on to every word as Daring Do fled the Zap-Apple Ghoul, a monstrosity experiment gone wrong when combined with the sacred elements. The mare was reaching a dead end. There was no way she could make it. If he hadn't known any better, he was quite sure that this would be it. His heart pumping, his whole body rattling and his lungs holding his breath as his eyes ate up each word, paragraph by paragraph.

The thrill, the deception, the shockers that left his mouth open. These were the reasons he had become such an avid follower of the stories. It was impossible to resist such amazing content. He had even tried to work at a job so that he could purchase copies, until the Queen demanded that he stop unless he wanted to sleep with the spiders. One of the many reasons he hated the Queen was that she knew his weaknesses and phobias. That fact that she used them to control him made his blood boil, but alas, he could do nothing about it.

At least I am done having to deal with creatures like her.

%%%%

He sat there, the branch levitating in the green aura casted by a scimitar of a horn. The hat lay neatly over his head, a simple brown fedora. Two other brothers were leaning over the tree, black bowler hats shielding their shells from the baking sun.

"Please...I've done nothing wrong." the unicorn pleaded.

Five days ago, he had received the assignment to track this escapee of a changeling. He had tracked her to the outer parts of Equestria, and after an impressive chase, his prey was now hanging in front of him, a trophy.While they were gone apparently, or at least according to the newspaper, the hive underwent a risky conquest that backfired in Canterlot. Something about a Royal Wedding. He wasn't much of a patriot to the Queen. Yet he wasn't much of a loyalist either. In his opinion, the Queen was just a love source, ironically, who paid him food for his job. He wasn't good at pretending to be something he wasn't, but he could sure think like it. Tracking was his game. And so far he was going for an undefeated streak.

The mare hanged like a plum, upside down with her limbs bounded in a criss-cross applesauce fashion. It would be easy pickings after this job. He strode around her now, eating up the scene.

"The Queen doesn't like those who try to flee the hive missy," he grinned at his words, the branch looming ever so near the tip of the pink horn of the unicorn.

"I promise I'll come back Thresh, honest to the Queen I will." her voice was limp.

"Well you see," he explained in a calm manner, "I don't think that will count darling. The Queen is nowhere to be found and right now, this here town pays for changelings dead or alive. Though I guess I can't really let you sing to the authorities now if I plan to make profit of this here establishment."

The unicorn's eyes seemed to spread like a wave, her pupils sinking into her skull as the full realization hit her. "You wouldn't..."

"They didn't call me a renegade for nothin'." and with those last words, the branch swung with full force towards her skull, the deafening crack causing a pair of vultures to scramble to the nearby plateau.

Author's Note: A bit rushed but I couldn't resist to publish the next chapter. Hopefully, some of you will have caught a reference to another, if not more, fantastic story.