“If I didn’t know any better―and I honestly don’t,” the light gray earth pony stallion muttered as he finished up his morning check of his patient, “I’d say you were improving remarkably fast,” he stepped away from the bed and fumbled briefly as he tried to remember what cabinet the exam equipment he’d been using ha come from. He paused for a moment and glanced over his shoulder at the ‘Steed pilot, “...you guys can’t, like, fake vitals, right?”

Slipshod’s face scrunched up slightly in an uneasy expression, “technically, we could...but that’s not super easy to do without also suffering from the actual effects of those vitals,” he explained, “I could ‘fake’ a fever...but only by actually giving myself a fever, so…”

The medic frowned and finished putting away the equipment, “worst. Superpower. Ever.

“In that case, I guess you’re doing okay. Though, I still don’t really know how well you’re supposed to be doing two weeks after a surgery like the one you had,” he shrugged, “that Dragoon doctor said to give you a month though. So, I guess I’m still going to insist you stay here?”

The changeling chuckled, “you’re the doc, Doc.”

The other stallion grimaced at Slipshod’s use of the title. Understandable. Until two weeks ago, young Cravat had been a mere medic serving with Blood Chit’s recovery team. His principal duties had consisted of performing first aid and stabilizing patients long enough to reach Doc Dee for more definitive care. His knowledge and training regarding diagnosing and treating patients on a more long-term basis was limited, to say the least.

However, he was currently the most knowledgeable medical pony on the Zathura―beating out Caduce, the medic attached to the ship’s security detail, by a whole four months―which meant that he was first in line to be ‘promoted’ to ship’s doctor. Until such a time as Squelch could secure a replacement, at least.

As Slipshod understood it, offers had been made from both the Timberwolf’s Dragoons, as well as Victoria Blueblood, to loan the Irregulars a real physician in the interim. However, the unicorn mare running the company did not particularly like the idea of any more ponies on her ship that answered to outside authorities before they answered to her. It was her ship and mercenary company, after all. She tolerated Twilight and Cinder well enough, but that was because they were nominally her clients. She was less thrilled at the prospect of having a member of the ship’s operating crew who wasn’t technically on her payroll.

A posting for the position had been issued―targeted towards residents of the Our Worlds League, since that was where they were headed―and Squelch anticipated being able to conduct interviews in a month or so. In the meantime though, that meant that a ‘lowly medic’ constituted the highest medical authority on the ship. For better or worse.

Not that it made much of a difference to the changeling. It turned out that Doctor Vie Scope was quite the skilled surgeon. True to her alleged boasting, she’d had Slipshod stitched back together and on the mend within hours of his reverting back to an earth pony. He’d been transferred back to the Zathura the following morning too. Though, Slipshod suspected that the reason for that had been so that the Timberwolf physician could rid her DropShip of the last lingering excuse that Twilight might use to try and return to the vessel after being summarily ‘banished’ from it by Doc Scope.

The doctor had not taken very kindly to being teleported out of her own medical ward by the alicorn so that she could experiment with ‘homeopathic medicine’. Strictly speaking, Timberjack hadn’t appreciated the reported events either, as Slipshod understood things. While Timberwolf’s Dragoons were nominally under the direction of the League-in-Exile, Slipshod got the impression that, after many decades of operating largely unsupported in the Sphere, the mercenary outfit wasn’t feeling quite as beholden to the Clans as some of their leadership might have liked.

Slipshod wasn’t sure if Timberjack and the other Dragoons were quite at the point of outright bucking any of Twilight’s or Cinder’s orders―after all, they wanted Chrysalis gone as much as anycreature―but it also wouldn’t be accurate to say that they were prostrating themselves before the Princess-Returned. They certainly didn’t hold anywhere near the same reverence for Twilight that Cinder did. Though, it had been Slipshod’s observation that few creatures, even out among the Clans, had.

Falling off the face of the galaxy for a few centuries seemed to have eroded her relevance among even her ‘supporters’.

He knew that a discussion had been held regarding continuing to keep Twilight’s existence a secret any longer. Especially now that word of the existence of the Clans had reached Chrysalis. The thought had been that, if they came forward with news of the ‘real’ Twilight Sparkle’s existence, they might be able to better entice some of the major powers to support the Clans in the invasion of Equus.

Ultimately, this had been decided against. While Chrysalis might know about the Clans, and their planned invasion, the existence of changelings was still not common knowledge among the inhabitants of the Sphere. They were in a much better position now to spread that knowledge, perhaps, but that didn’t necessarily make it the best course of action. Changeling agents operated within the highest echelons of the Successor States governing bodies. Putting the word out brazenly might motivate those high-placed agents to do something drastic.

Like whatever the equivalent of detonating a ship’s reactors was in political or economic terms.

Trying to mobilize a military after its entire logistical network had been sabotaged by changeling operatives looking to cripple it was hardly an ideal situation.

It was still in the best interests of their plan to keep matters quiet as much as they could. Approach only who they needed to, when they needed to, and vet key players when necessary. Chrysalis might know that the Clans were coming, but even Twilight didn’t know when the invasion would begin in earnest. Which meant that they still possessed at least a marginal element of surprise, and it was still in their best interests to stay off ComSpark’s radar by making a spectacle of themselves or their efforts to galvanize the Sphere against her.

Besides, there was only so much that Chrysalis could openly do as well. ComSpark wasn’t a governing body, and exercised effectively zero executive or martial control over any nation. They had military forces of their own, obviously, but their strength on paper was very different from their actual numbers. If too many ComSpark forces started to pop up or move around the galaxy at once, that might prompt the larger star nations to ask some very dangerous―for Chrysalis―questions. This meant that the changeling queen’s deployments would have to be done a little bit at a time.

At least, right up until the first Clan forces appeared in the Sphere. Once the invasion kicked off in earnest, all bets were off.

Even then, ‘Twilight Sparkle’ did not―officially―have the authority to order any military force to take any action. At most, she could, through ComSpark and the Mercenary Review Board, hire the major mercenary companies to combat the Clans when they appeared. Now, that wasn’t to say that her agents in the Successor State governments couldn’t employ their political capital in order to pressure the leadership into doing what Chrysalis said. However, bureaucracies, by their nature, moved at glacial speeds. If the changeling queen wanted fast results, going the MRB route was her best option.

Meanwhile, their best option actually did lie in approaching the political leaders of the major powers. They didn’t have the ability to compete with the monetary incentives that Chrysalis could offer―especially since ComSpark could legitimately create all the money it needed to incentivise the mercenary companies. It was their proprietary currency, after all. Which meant that they had to appeal to the sensibilities of the government officials.

That wasn’t to say that any of their efforts were certain to meet with success. Strictly speaking, Slipshod had his doubts regarding how many of the various leaders were likely to be persuaded to join together into any sort of cohesive coalition against ‘ComSpark’. Especially given how long those same star nations had been fighting each other. He wasn’t even convinced that Victoria Blueblood and Natch Belle getting married would legitimately create any sort of alliance between the Pony Commonwealth and the Federated Moons. After all, unlike Victoria, Natch wasn’t actually the one in charge in the Federation. That distinction fell to his older brother, Menulis.

So unless Menulis was willing to put aside centuries of animosity for the sake of his younger brother, or unless he met an untimely end before producing an heir, there wasn’t any genuinely concrete alliance that would come about from their marriage.

At least, as far as Slipshod knew. Not that he was always right about such things…

The changeling’s musings were interrupted by an intrusion into the Zathura’s small clinic by three more ponies, “good morning, Doc,” a beaming crimson pegasus stallion greeted, seeming to delight in the slight wince from the ship’s acting physician as he used the traditional honorific for the position, “how’s the patient?”

“He’s fine, as far as I can tell, sergeant,” Cravat answered.

“Well enough for guests?” the ship’s recently promoted head of security nodded in the direction of the two other ponies with him. Slipshod felt himself reflexively tense at the sight of the pair of security ponies: a silver pegasus mare and a blue earth pony stallion. Each of whom were members of the company’s security detachment. He’d known them for the better part of two years, since signing on with Squelch’s ship, and had fostered a cordial relationship with both ponies.

However, the last couple of months had been...rocky. Especially the last encounter he’d had with them.

The changeling was able to calm himself soon after that initial reaction to the sight of the security ponies though. Mostly as a result of picking up on their own emotional states: guilt, remorse, embarrassment, and disgust. That last feeling being directed inward, rather than towards any other individuals in the room. Confirming the ‘Steed pilot’s burgeoning theories regarding the purpose of this visit, Blood Chit introduced the pair, “Slip, these two have something they want to say to you.”

There was a biting edge in the crimson stallion’s tone that made the other two wince upon hearing it. Slipshod got the impression that there had been at least one conversation between the three―perhaps even including Squelch―that he’d not been aware of. However, he found no evidence that this visit was truly being compelled, or lacked sincerity. They felt bad for what they’d done…

...though not for why they had done it. That was a worthwhile nuance to their state that wasn’t lost on the changeling, and one that he tacitly approved of. They’d genuinely believed that he’d assaulted their employer, and had been incensed by the thought that anypony would do such a thing. To them, it had been like a personal affront. Like a member of their own family had been harmed by a traitor in their midst. The pair simply could not let such a trespass go unpunished.

Slipshod could appreciate their passion...if not their diligence in making absolutely sure that the pony in custody had been the actual perpetrator of the crime. The changeling suspected that specific oversight had already been covered at length during whatever debriefings the security ponies had been a part of in the last couple of weeks.

Sabot took a deep breath, and somehow even managed to work up the courage to look the golden earth pony in the eye as she spoke, much to her credit, “we’re sorry. When we were told that Victoria and Timberjack had seen you attack the commander…” she started faltering now, but Breech Block was able to pick up where she’d trailed off.

“We jumped to conclusions,” he admitted, wearing an expression reminiscent of having to swallow particularly bitter medicine, “we didn’t even wait for confirmation or anything. We shouldn’t have treated you like we did.”

“Even if it had really been you,” Sabot finally managed to continue again, “and you had done what we were told you did; it doesn’t excuse what we...what we almost did to you,” the mare wasn’t able to meet his gaze any longer. The remorse within the mare very nearly doubled in intensity as she recalled how they’d very nearly carried out their threat to eject him into space.

Slipshod couldn’t exactly say that he felt very comfortable recalling those events either. Granted, he’d found himself faced with the prospect of imminent death on more than a few occasions in his life―though with far more frequency of late for his liking. Still, there was something especially harrowing about being forcibly dragged towards an impromptu execution when compared to facing a barrage of missiles, or some other such typical battlefield hazzard.

He needed to look no further than the tightness he’d felt in his chest the moment he’d seen these two step into the clinic just now to see the evidence of that. For a brief fraction of a second, his brain had inconceivably lept to the conclusion that the pair of security ponies were here to ‘finish the job’ and kill him right here and now. Logically, he knew that couldn’t possibly have been the case, but that had been his initial, irrational, thought.

The stallion idly wondered for how much longer that would be his first thought whenever he passed either security pony in the corridor. Frankly, he had enough stressors in his life without suffering minor heart palpitations whenever making eye contact with certain members of the crew.

“Suffice it to say that more than a few policies were violated,” Blood Chit chimed in, narrowing his gaze at the pair, “and arrangements are being made to drop these two off at the next appropriate port, as per the termination terms of their contracts. However, I thought it would be a good idea to give them the opportunity to apologize before departing.”

Slipshod’s eyes widened in mild surprise as he glanced between the three of them, “they’re being fired?”

The crimson pegasus favored his friend with a mildly amused look, “they nearly tossed a suspect out the airlock,” he reminded the earth pony before glaring back towards the―apparently former―security ponies, “which is not how things are done on this ship, is it?”

Soft acknowledgements were muttered by the shamefaced pair.

“Look, I can understand why they reacted the way that they did―” the changeling began. However, Blood Chit interrupted him.

“Really? Because I can’t,” he quipped, “and neither can Squelch. Or the rest of the security team.

“This ship has policies and rules, not much different from any ‘real’ policing force,” the pegasus stallion went on soberly, “and they’re in place for a reason. We can’t let ourselves overreact and jump to conclusions, or make hasty decisions. Especially when the possibility of dealing with changelings is involved,” he emphasized, looking pointedly at Slipshod.

“‘Trust, but verify’ needs to be our mantra going forward on just about everything,” Blood Chit continued, “six changelings were found on the Dragoon dropships alone. Who knows how many were present in the capital palace complex? For all we knew, it could have been changelings calling High Gain to tell her something had been done to Squelch.”

He waved a wing at the pair, “these two never actually even saw her! They heard from somepony else that Squelch had been attacked, and that somepony had ‘heard’ it had been you! I never even knew you’d been taken into custody, and I’m supposed to be the pony who orders that sort of thing,” the stallion briefly sneered at the pair during the thinly veiled reminder of one of their apparent myriad transgressions. The unicorn and earth pony both winced again.

“However you may feel, Slip―and whether their ‘hearts were in the right place’ or whatever―is immaterial. The bottom line is that I don’t need ponies like that on my security detail, and Squelch doesn’t want ponies like that on her payroll,” the winged stallion concluded, “so, when the Zathura docks at Concordia Station this evening, they’re getting off.”

“Oh…” the changeling was genuinely stunned. Mostly because he was finding it difficult to grasp the idea that ponies were being disciplined by other ponies for the ‘crime’ of almost killing a changeling. His kind were the enemy. Ponies were supposed to be regarding him with animosity and only barely restrained hatred. That was the healthy attitude to have. Honestly, he was wondering if maybe their personal feelings towards him were prompting Squelch and Blood Chit to overreact to what Sabot and breech Block had nearly done.

“Well, I do accept the apology anyway,” he insisted, looking towards the former security ponies and trying to muster up some facsimile of a smile to reassure them, “if that means anything?” the stallion shrugged anemically.

Both ponies could only nod silently, and were then dismissed by their supervisor to return to their quarters in order to perform one final check to ensure that they’d not overlooked any of their personal effects while packing. Blood Chit remained behind, stepping closer to the changeling’s bed and sitting down beside him, “you’re too nice,” he remarked, smiling towards the ‘Steed pilot, “a lot nicer than me at any rate. You could feel deck plates rattling when I found out what they’d tried to do to you…”

“Yeah, well, when your personal comfort is directly tied to the happiness of the others in the room with you, you tend to try to soothe as many sensibilities as possible,” Slipshod pointed out, “think of it like setting an ‘emotional thermostat’. Why would anypony keep the room they’re in feeling uncomfortably cold or hot when all they have to do is tweak the nob a bit in their favor?”

“I guess I can see that,” the pegasus conceded, though he still sounded a little reluctant, “but, at the same time, they did try to murder you,” he pointed out.

“They tried to kill a monster that they thought hurt Squelch,” Slipshod corrected, smirking at the ship’s chief of security, “I’d have given them a medal!” the earth pony let out a brief bark of laughter. Even to his ears, it sounded a little strained, and it ended rather quickly when he caught sight at the complete lack of amusement on Blood Chit’s face. The ‘Steed pilot swallowed, “what?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Call yourself a monster.”

Slipshod sighed and shook his head at his friend’s obvious denial, “I’m a changeling. Of course that makes me a mon―”

“Oh fucking stop it!” Blood Chit snapped, scowling balefully at the golden earth pony. The changeling gaped in shock at the other stallion, too surprised to do anything but comply. The clearly discernible hints of genuine anger that were somehow mixed in with the more familiar sensations of compassion wafting off the pegasus perplexed him even more.

“You haven’t done one ‘monstrous’ thing since coming aboard this ship!” the crimson stallion said, still glaring, “you’re friendly and kind to every member of the crew, you put your life on the line every time you go out in that BattleSteed, you even turned your back on your entire race in order to help free ponykind from changeling control!

“What part of any of that makes you a ‘monster’, again?”

Well, when he phrased it like that…

Still, Slipshod couldn’t help but feel like the pegasus was leaving out some pretty important details, “I’m only friendly because I need positive emotions to survive,” the changeling countered, “I pilot BattleSteeds because that’s damn near my only marketable skill, and I’m only working against Chrysalis to get personal revenge. I don’t actually care if all the other creatures in the galaxy benefit,” he insisted.

“Oh, so your motives aren’t completely altruistic; I guess you’re right and you are a complete and total villain!” Blood Chit’s overly dramatic sarcasm was B-movie quality. Slipshod was actually half-tempted to invite the stallion to the next movie night with Channel Lock.

“Slip, nopony cares how selfish or noble your motives are. I mean, do you think I’d be here if the pay wasn’t so good? I can help ponies anywhere! I could be part of a disaster relief team on pretty much any planet in the Sphere, but I’m not,” he pointed out, “I’m here, making nearly double the going rate for my skill set, dragging your flank out of half-junked ‘Steeds, so that my hopefully soon-to-be-fiance and I can move out of our current near-slum apartment and into a decent upper-class condo.

“Does that make me a ‘bad pony’, for helping out with all of this because I want a nicer place to live?”

“No, of course not, but―” Slipshod began.

“So then why are you a monster?”

The changeling didn’t know what frustrated him more: the insistence on asking him that question again, or the fact that he couldn’t come up with what the pegasus would consider to be a compelling response in that moment. However, just because he couldn’t come up with an answer on the spot didn’t mean that there wasn’t one. It just meant that he was still in the middle of recovering from a traumatic injury and could hardly be expected to win any heady philosophical arguments right now. If anything, Blood Chit was taking advantage of his condition to try and manipulate him. Not that Slipshod actually thought the pegasus was that malicious of a pony.

He was sure that his friend meant well. That didn’t mean that he was right though. He just didn’t understand.

Still, Slipshod acknowledged that he would have to admit defeat in this particular conversation, due to his less-than-optimal condition, “it’s not quite the same thing. It’s complicated,” was all the answer that he could come up with.

“Uh huh,” was Blood Chit’s dubious reply, “well, feel free to ‘uncomplicate’ it whenever you’re up for it,” his wing reached up and briefly ruffled the earth pony’s mane.

“Is the patient up for taking on any more visitors?”

Both stallions turned their heads in the direction of the clinic’s door, where they found Twilight and Squelch having just arrived. Blood Chit was grinning and making room to accommodate the mares as they approached the bed. Slipshod’s own expression was welcoming as well. However, internally, he was feeling far more reticent. Especially as he noticed that particularly intense emotions were radiating outward from the sage unicorn.

He hadn’t been entirely cognisant a couple weeks ago during her visit aboard the Wyrm. He’d been short a pint or two of ichor at the time. However, since then he’d had time to review events and examine what had happened―as well as their implications―with a more rational frame of mind.

In the moment, he’d just been so incredibly grateful to receive her outpouring of emotion, and the strength that it had given him. The reaction had been almost entirely instinctual. He’d been a changeling near death. It was only natural that he’d want to ingest as much love as possible from whatever source was available. As far as Slipshod was concerned, Squelch was lucky that he’d been as weak as he was. A stronger changeling that desperate for love would have drained her.

Whether the unicorn understood it or not, what she’d done had the potential to be lethal for her. It had been reckless of her, no matter the reasons. She was the pony in charge of this company, and the one with the analytical mind that had the potential to help with the planning of the invasion of Equus. Meanwhile, Slipshod was just a C-bit a dozen ‘Steed pilot. He could be replaced at any spaceport with a five minute visit to a MRB hiring hall.

Bottom line: his life wasn’t worth hers; and she had no business risking it for his sake.

While not nearly as imminently dangerous to the mare’s health, Squelch’s current feelings for him would eventually prove detrimental. It had happened before. In a matter of months, she’d start losing her mental faculties. Start making mistakes. This would begin at around the same time they hoped to begin the invasion of the Sphere; right when they’d need the unicorn to be at the top of her game.

The fate of the whole galaxy―Chrysalis’ defeat―could very well rest on Squelch making the right calls at the right time.

If she still loved him by then…

No. Too much was riding on this. He couldn’t let that happen―wouldn’t let that happen.

Slipshod spared a moment for a silent apology directed towards the sage mare before propping himself up in the bed and craning his head, attempting to peer around behind the pair, “that depends: are two of those visitors going to be the twins? I know for a fact that they own some, uh...not quite ‘practical’ nurse uniforms,” the stallion paused for a moment, “well, not practical for nursing anyway,” he winked at the nearby crimson pegasus even as he suppressed a wince as he felt Squech’s own mood sharply sour.

Though Slipshod noted that the unicorn’s reaction was frustratingly transitory. Within moments, her ire seemed to pass, and was replaced with...acceptance somehow. That was...troubling. Then again, she was well aware that Mig and Tig hadn’t actually done anything with him since their first dalliance. So he shouldn’t be surprised that she didn’t regard what he’d said as anything more than a joke. Maybe a different target would yield the results he wanted. But who?

It’s not like he had a lot of options on the ship. He’d specifically made it a point to not sleep around with the crew if he could help it. Alluding to any of them would either also be brushed aside, or risk getting back to the named crewmember and cause a whole host of problems for them.

The stallion eyed the alicorn. Twilight wasn’t a member of the crew. Maybe…

It was worth a shot.

Slipshod rolled onto his side, barely managing to hide a wince of intense pain behind a flirtatious grin as he eyed the taller purple mare, “say, princess: a little birdie told me you borrowed a book on healing spells. Why don’t you break it out and the two of us can play ‘doctor’ together?” the earth pony then proceeded to waggle his eyebrows and click his tongue at the mare.

“Make another pass like that, and I will turn you into a ficus,” was Twilight’s flat reply. Then she tapped her chin as she pondered out loud, “I wonder if your changeling transformation ability can override alicorn-level transmutations?” she now looked back towards the stallion, her expression now one of great interest that was setting off alarm bells in Slipshod’s head, “why don’t we find out? Worse case scenario: I’ll have a new plant to decorate my quarters with!”

He genuinely had no idea whether or not his innate ability to assume any form he wanted could be constrained by alicorn magic. The level of genuine annoyance from the mare was all that motivation that he needed not to call her bluff too, “on second thought, Cravat’s been just great,” Slipshod assured the mare, returning to his earlier prone position, “you hear that, Cravat? You do good work; keep it up!”

“Flattery’s still not going to get you a sponge bath,” the medic announced from Dee’s―now Cravat’s, Slipshod supposed―office.

The changeling cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly at his three guests, “well, above average work, anyway…”

The earth pony was more than a little concerned that Squelch actually seemed to have found something about the last few moments endearing. How was he making this worse? With an exasperated inward sigh, Slipshod decided that it was best to give up his efforts for the moment. Obviously there had been some rather poignant―and very inconvenient―epiphanies reached while he’d been unconscious. He’d need some time to delve into their nature if he wanted to successfully undermine those renewed feelings and dispel them.

It wasn’t like this was a problem that needed to be solved now anyway. He had a few months before noticeable changes started to appear. He’d be able to figure out something by then.

“Anyway,” Squelch began, smirking at the changeling, “we figured that, since you’re on the mend, you might as well be brought up to date on the latest revisions to the plan.”

“To start off: some bad news,” Twilight interjected, “Dee managed to get a message off to ComSpark. That was why he attacked Squelch. To get access to her terminal and bypass the comm lockout,” Slipshod had already guessed as much. Dee wouldn’t have risked blowing his cover for something as trivial as finally punishing him, “it gets worse,” the alicorn continued, prompting a deeper frown from the changeling as he tried to imagine what was worse than Chrysalis knowing the Clans existed, “somehow, Dee also got his hooves on intel about the Clans. Specifically, their force rosters.

“Chrysalis now knows exactly what she’s up against, and can plan accordingly.”

Yup, that was certainly ‘worse’, Slipshod agreed. He sighed and massaged both sides of his temple with his hooves, “well that’s...unfortunate.”

“Very,” the purple pony agreed.

“We’re expanding our recruitment efforts,” Squelch announced, “the twins are reaching out to the Confederation―which we don’t expect to do any good,” she hastily interjected when she caught the changeling’s dubious glance, “but we don’t lose anything by trying.

“Cinder and Timberjack are going to talk with the hippogriffs. We’re going to let Victoria work her end of things with the Federated Moons. Meanwhile, we’re,” the unicorn waved her hoof leisurely around, “going to approach the League,” she paused for a moment, “Our League. As in the Our Worlds League. Not the Clan league.”

Slipshod frowned, “aren’t we going to run into some issues now that Chrysalis knows the Irregulars are working with the Clans? Did you already re-register us as a new company again?”

“That’s actually some of the good news,” the unicorn replied, “we’ve seen no sign that ComSpark’s blacklisting us. We think this is because they don’t know Dee’s dead, and want to let him keep operating as an active agent.”

“Still, they have to know that we’re working with the Clans,” the changeling pointed out, “it’s too risky to keep our identities.”

“Not necessarily,” Twilight piped up, earning a dubious glance from Slipshod, “don’t get me wrong, it’ll be tricky, but we think we can make this work to our advantage.”

“Chrysalis is going to be tracking us. No two ways about it. However, we can make that work for us,” Squelch explained, “we intend to misdirect ComSpark. We’re going to make it look like we’re approaching the larger mercenary companies to try and recruit them.

“What we’ll actually be doing is convincing the Successor States themselves to help us,” the sage mare paused for a moment, “well, I’ll be convincing them at any rate. The rest of you will be working with the Grey Lines Legion on a little operation that they’ve got in the works. The relevant details are already in your inbox,” she said to Slipshod.

The changeling blinked in stunned shock, “...my inbox?”

“Well, I can’t be expected to run things all the way from Aether,” Squelch pointed out, smiling broadly at the earth pony stallion, “so that means you’ll be commanding the Irregulars on your own until I get back.”

“Are you sure the crew will be fine with a changeling running things?” Slipshod squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of the likely reactions from the rest of the creatures on the ship, “especially after what just happened?”

“You mean the part where you stopped a saboteur from blowing up the ship?” Blood Chit said, smirking at the other stallion, “or the part where you nearly got yourself killed saving my life?”

“Given the number of ponies who’ve promised to buy you drinks the moment you’re out of here, I’m genuinely concerned you’ll be sent right back with severe alcohol poisoning,” Squelch remarked, only half joking.

“Please don’t!” came the muffled plea from Cravat in his new office, “still just a medic!”

“You’re a good pilot,” the pegasus stallion by his bed assured him, “the crew knows and trusts you. You did use to help run things before, you know? It’ll be fine.”

Personally, Slipshod still fostered some doubts about that. He just...couldn’t conceive of how that could be possible. He was a changeling. The crew knew that he was a changeling. A race of monsters that survived on deceit and lies. They were the antithesis of trust. The fact was that the creatures on the Zathura didn’t know him. They might listen to him―even obey the orders he gave during Squelch’s absence―but that would only be because their real commander had told them to listen to him until she got back.

But...if this was what had to happen in order to bring them one step closer to defeating Chrysalis, then he’d go through with it, “if you say so,” Slipshod finally replied. He looked at the unicorn, “when do you leave?”

“I’m getting off at Concordia Station when we dock and catching a shuttle from there,” the mare informed him, still smirking, “I’ll still be in the system for a few days before we jump out, so you can contact me any time before that happens. But I highly doubt anything’ll go wrong between now and then.”

The earth pony stallion nodded. Squelch would be off the ship. Good. That would keep her away from him and out of danger. He’d also have plenty of time to come up with a plan of action upon her return to push her away from him and douse those rekindled feelings. Apparently he’d need to do something more drastic than sleeping with somepony in her quarters too, if her reaction to his innuendos earlier was any indication. Finding something that was repulsive enough to quash those feelings, but not quite so heinous as to get him booted off the ship was going to be a fascinating line to toe…

But, for her, he’d do his best.

“That stallion really doesn’t make it easy,” Squelch quipped sardonically as she strode into her quarters.

The purple alicorn in her wake entered behind her, accepting a glass of brandy that the sage green unicorn floated over to her. Twilight hadn’t traditionally been much of a fan of alcohol in her youth―after all, alcohol clouded the mind―but she’d developed an appreciation for its stress-relieving qualities in her later years as princess. The purple mare sipped at the glass as she watched the mercenary commander shed her duty uniform and tossle her mane with her magic in an effort to get it to hang more loosely over her withers.

Squelch studied her new disheveled look briefly in the mirror of her small vanity by her locker and sighed, “I don’t know if it makes it ‘better’ or ‘worse’ that I now know he’s a changeling and needs to feel ‘loved’―or whatever―by as many ponies as possible,” she said, frowning. The unicorn glanced back over her shoulder, “how do you build a long-term relationship on something like that? I mean, something that’s more than just friends or coworkers?

“I know some ponies can do the whole ‘open relationship’ thing...but that always just sounded to me like couples tolerating each others’ affairs…”

Twilight snorted, “if you’re trying to ask me for relationship advice, you’re coming to the wrong alicorn,” Twilight’s smile was a lot more wan than she’d have preferred as she thought about her sister-in-law and former foal-sitter. Cadence was alive on Equus, but had been held captive for centuries. What that must have been like for her…

The purple alicorn shuddered at the thought and took another―slightly larger―sip of brandy.

“Fine, then what about changeling advice?” Squelch asked with a hint of exasperation, “do relationships between them and ponies even work?”

“For the most part,” Twilight nodded, “changelings got along with just about every race on Equus. Their empathic natures make them extremely sympathetic to just about every way of thinking, and they can appreciate a wide range of emotions.”

“And that wasn’t dangerous for any of their partners?” the green mare asked dubiously, recalling her own near-manic state of mind during the latter phase of her marriage to Slipshod, “it wasn’t even a year before I started to suffer problems,” she pointed out.

Now Twilight was frowning as well, “admittedly, I’m referring to relationships between other creatures and reformed changelings; which isn’t quite the same thing. They were basically different species, honestly.”

Squelch poured herself a glass of spirits and stepped across the modest living space to her desk, taking a seat. She gestured towards the bed, offering it to the purple mare, “so there are two kinds of changeling?”

“Sort of?” Twilight winced as she made herself comfortable on the bed. It was obvious that the other mare was not appreciative of the vagueness of that answer, and so the alicorn sought to elaborate, “reformed changelings are what changelings like Slipshod are capable of becoming,” she explained, “and what I believe all changelings used to be a long time ago.”

“What’s the difference?”

“A changeling like Slipshod takes in emotion almost exclusively,” Twilight explained, “they absorb it, horde it, and feed off of it. The results―as you’ve experienced―can be very debilitating for their victims.

“A reformed changeling still needs positive emotions to survive, but they’re also capable of sharing those feelings with others. They can sustain others more or less symbiotically. Non-changeling creatures they’re with for long periods of time don’t feel any ill-effects.”

Squelch frowned, “well, that sounds objectively better,” she pointed out, “why even bother with the ‘only hoarding’ way of life?”

Twilight smiled sympathetically, noting that the mare made a very good observation, “because of this risk involved,” she said, “both kinds of changelings still need love in order to live. By also sharing the love that they have with others, reformed changelings are leaving themselves very vulnerable. Because it means if they stop being loved for any significant period of time…” she allowed the implication to hang in the air between them.

The unicorn mare nodded her understanding, rubbing her chin, “they’re betting their lives on how others feel about them.”

“For the most part,” Twilight nodded, “it’s not a big deal for reformed changelings who stay with the hive. They’re actively passing love around the community all the time. Even little changeling cliques in foreign communities aren’t in much danger. Changelings who are on their own are at the greatest risk.”

Squelch leaned back in her chair, the glass in held in her telekinesis swirling lazily in front of her as she pondered the implications of their conversation, “Slipshod’s surrounded by a crew of creatures that care about him,” she pointed out, “could he become one of these ‘reformed’ changelings? If he did, then we wouldn’t have to worry about my being drained, right?”

“The only thing that keeps a changeling from being reformed is themselves,” Twilight stated soberly, “they merely need to make the conscious choice to share their love with others.”

“Well, shit; that’s an easy fix,” the sage mare snorted.

“Is it?” the purple alicorn asked pointedly. Squelch no longer looked as sure of her position as she had a moment ago, “think for a moment about what would be asked of him:

“For you, you’re risking heartbreak. If things go south, you’ll grouse, drink, whine, complain to your friends, maybe even cry a little,” Twilight ignored the scowl from the unicorn, continuing, “but for Slipshod...he could die. He would be placing his life in the hooves of others in a way that is extremely hard to do.”

“He’s a ‘Steed pilot. He risks his life every time he climbs into the cockpit,” Squelch pointed out.

“He does,” the purple mare acknowledged, “but he’s not giving up control over those risks. He relies on his skill, his abilities, to see him through danger. If he gives all of his love to you―or anypony else for that matter―he’s giving you exclusive control over whether he lives or dies.

“Could you do that?” Twilight now asked of the other mare, “could you put your life in somepony else’s hooves like that so completely? Is there anypony in your life that you’ve ever trusted that much?”

Squelch was silent. She wanted to be able to insist that she could have done just that, but she knew that would have been a lie. The unicorn couldn’t even say that she’d trusted her parents enough to do something like that, and those should have been the easiest examples for a pony to give of such a thing.

This information also painted things in a slightly different perspective for her, and how she viewed what she and Slipshod might be able to have together. The unicorn had to admit that she was a little uncomfortable at the thought of the power imbalance that would exist between them if the changeling somehow managed to ‘reform’ himself. If genuinely loving her meant that he became physiologically dependent on her reciprocating those feelings...that suddenly placed a lot of pressure on her shoulders, and made her question exactly how deep for him her feelings ran.

Obviously, she loved the stallion enough that it could provide him with at least some strength when he was gravely injured. But did that necessarily mean that she loved him enough to keep him alive? Were her feelings for him genuinely that deep? She thought of the changeling as a close confidant, a reliable business partner, a brave fighter―once, even a passionate lover. She loved him.

But did she love him?

The fact that she was even having to ask herself that kind of question somehow felt like an answer, the mare thought to herself bitterly.

Twilight was nodding, having seemed to mostly interpret the unicorn’s silence correctly, “not quite an ‘easy’ fix,” the alicorn noted with some sympathy. She finished off her brandy and stood up from the bed, “but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t holding out hope,” she set the empty glass on Squelch’s desk and headed for the door, “and not just for the sake of your relationship.”

The purple mare paused in the doorway, a frowned crossing her lips now, “I was recently reminded that Chrysalis has been hoarding love for centuries. I can’t even imagine how powerful she’s managed to become in that time,” she swallowed, trying to quell the nervousness building within her, “we could bring every ship and ‘Steed to Equus, and still...it might not be enough to defeat her.”

Squelch was staring at the alicorn now in stark surprise, “seriously? You’re just bringing this up now?!”

“There’s nothing that we can do about it, no matter what. Chrysalis won’t be getting any weaker as time goes on,” Twilight pointed out, tamping down on her own anxiety over the matter.

“But if we can’t win anyway―” the unicorn began to sputter in protest, however the other mare cut her off.

“I didn’t say we couldn’t win,” Twilight clarified, “just that ships and weapons wasn’t how we’d be able to do it.”

“So how, exactly, are we going to do it?”

The purple princess turned and flashed a broad smile at the mare, “why, with the most powerful magic that the galaxy has ever known, of course!”

Without another word, the alicorn left. Squelch scowled at the door for a long, silent, moment. Then poured herself another drink.

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