“What’s the situation in the Badlands?” Princess Cadence said as she slid into the seat opposite the burly earth pony. “Tundra, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered. Funny name for somepony assigned to scout a hot desert, but she supposed it didn’t matter. Talent was talent, no matter what package it came in. “I haven’t seen a changeling since the invasion. No sign of activity anywhere. I never got close enough to check inside one of their hives, but nothing coming or going.”

Cadence nodded and sipped her coffee, then nudged a cup to him as well. He wouldn’t take it; he didn’t like coffee, but it never hurt to go through the motions. Sure enough, he waved it off. Fine—more for her. “I assume the next logical step would be to investigate those,” she replied.

“Yes, ma’am.” He glanced at the full coffee cup again, looking down his nose at it. Curious, maybe. Wondering if it really tasted as bad as he expected. She’d leave it there for now—maybe he’d try it.

“Of course, if you haven’t seen anything by now, chances don’t look good. Perhaps they really have gone. Far away, possibly died out. What do you think?”

Tundra shrugged, his foreleg twitching a little. “Couldn’t say. Extinct? Would be a shame, y’know, from an ecological standpoint, I guess. But what would they do out there without a food source?”

“Speaking of which—” she pointed at the coffee again “—I think the duty sergeant brought in a box of doughnuts. In the breakroom.” Cadence angled her head toward the hallway. “You had a long night getting back here. I know they’re not exactly nutritious, but…”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “No thanks. Body’s a temple, y’know?” With a lopsided grin, he leaned back in his chair. “So, the usual? Rest up for a week, then back on assignment?”

“I have a different idea this time, actually.” Her magic wasn’t normally attuned for such a purpose, but she’d try anyway—she brought a pink glow to her horn, and his forelegs steadied a little. Any bit she could do to help somepony with his distinguished record. More illusion than actual sustainment, but it’d last him until they’d finished the debriefing and he could get home.

“Another unremarkable status report, then?” Cadence continued. “Makes the paperwork easier.” She smiled to put him at ease.

Tundra squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed a hoof between them. “Yeah. At least you got that.” She waited a minute, but he didn’t make a move for the coffee. “Different? Like what?”

“If we manage to find a changeling in those hives, it’d probably know something. I think it’s time to go from reconnaissance to intelligence.” Tundra wrinkled his brow and looked up. “Interrogation, if possible.”

“How would you manage that?” he replied. “We tried that once, right? The captive quit feeding and starved itself.”

Cadence rose from her seat and strode over to the door. She craned her neck to see down the hallway. “My sister-in-law is an excellent student of history. She studied the previous invasion meticulously. Despite the curious absence of any trace of changelings, she’s seen some of the same little signs of their machinations. Easily ignored individually, but when taken together…”

“Are you [i]sure?[/i]”

She nodded. “Yes. They’re out there. Somewhere. We’ll find one, and when we do, it’ll tell us everything. Did you notice that when they feed, a sort of euphoria comes over them? Similar to a drug. Like a koala and its addictive diet, as my friend Fluttershy tells me. It leaves them suggestible.”

Tundra’s face darkened, and he huffed out a snort. “Enemies though they may be, I can’t abide this. It’s unethical. And you can’t make them eat, anyway.”

“Really?” she said with a smirk.

He shoved himself back from the table, and in the window’s reflection, she could see him breathing heavily, his face flushed red. “Expect my resignation in the morning. I quit.”

“Oh, no. No, you don’t.” Her horn glowed again, and a pink aura surrounded him. His trembling body stilled once more. “Where is Tundra?” No answer. Changelings could siphon off small amounts of love at will, but when flooded with it, they had no choice. A drowning pony couldn’t help but swallow water, after all.

“Clever, soaking up love then ferrying it back to share under the guise of duty.” She pressed her nose to the pony-like face and only now saw the faint imperfections. “No, you don’t quit.”