"Wake up, dumbshits!"
Every drone's mind gets forcibly dragged out of the peaceful, for most, realm of sleep by 387's annoyed mental voice. 10013 yawns and softly swings its forelegs, enjoying the movement of the hammock. However, when it sees 387 slam the door open and shove the three worried-looking newbies inside, any even remotely good feelings vanish. When everyone's inside a single cabin, 387 closes the door again.
"Now, who's going to be the first one to tell me why Smiley here has been sitting in front of my door and spamming crying faces in my head the whole morning?!"
"Maybe it just wanted a shower-" grumbles 36658, glaring daggers non-stop at 99111.
"Test me one more time, I dare you!" snarls 387, and one simple glance from him is enough to shut 36658 up. This is a pre-new rules kind of glance, an extremely bad glance.
He knows what's going on, or at least part of it.
10013 grits its teeth for a second before speaking out:
"It's my fault-"
"Obviously - I left you in charge. Get to the point!"
For some reason, 10013 feels as if 387's aggressive tone doesn't match his overall demeanor for that particular statement. Something just doesn't fit, but the drone doesn't have the experience to decipher what's really happening.
"I might be wrong, but I think Smiley is sad because we argued yesterday and split up in bad blood."
"You argue all the time," 387 weakly smacks the back of the head of Smiley who's standing next to him.
*Sad face.*
"You are right, but this was different," 10013 keeps talking slowly and carefully, "When we argue we usually don't mean anything bad by it and we have a common goal. Let's say two drones argue about how many good sticks to trade for a particularly round rock-"
"Let's not," 387 interrupts it, "Use your intelligence, be concise, be accurate."
"99111 badmouthed High Score!" 36658 blurts out, "It said we just made everything up and that we're responsible for dead drones! I said it deserves to get properly smacked, and it does!"
"9999 existed. It died during our battle against the Tantabus in the dreamscape. Anything else?" 387 looks down and scowls at 99111.
The drone is visibly trembling under the threatening gaze.
"N- T- That wasn't- wasn't the pro- problem," it stutters out, "I- I said that the stories they say about it were made up because they are goop and that if drones believe that they have some magical protection with them then they will be less careful and they might die and it will be because of the Potatoes' stories!"
To everyone's surprise, 387 hums thoughtfully.
"That isn't a terrible line of thought, actually-"
"HA!" 99111 vigorously points at 36658 who would love to reply but, unlike the newbies, possesses the deeply ingrained habit stating that interrupting a high rank is a terrible idea.
*Crack!*
387's blow to the back of the head sends 99111 to the floor. It clearly wasn't meant to wound but still be painful enough to convey a message. The warrior narrows his eyes, waiting for shaken 99111 to get back up.
"You have no idea how much effort and sheer luck it took to have Chrysalis agree to the new rules. I waited a millennium for the chance that came by complete coincidence four years ago, and you will not screw this up," he growls, "You are allowed to disagree on anything as long as it doesn't hinder the hive but there will be no dangerous violence. High rank on drone as well as drone on drone. I don't care if you shove each other down the stairs, you are tough enough and easy to heal, but if anyone else sees that they'll assume we're just stupid bugs useful only as whorses or to be exploited. I'll tell you the same thing I told Chrysalis - I don't care about you, I care about the hive. So, let me repeat - how you act here will reflect on everyone back home. That doesn't only mean drones in the depths, that also means changelings on assignments among ponies and even those living with them. You are free to disagree, but you will not let it be harmful to the hive or I will be harmful to you."
"Umm," 20100 raises its foreleg.
"Yes?" 387 sharply.
"Does that mean we have to move back to one cabin?"
387 rolls his eyes and sighs.
"No. I understand that distance and space are sometimes the best things to heal wounds. However, you still obey 10013 and work for the good of the hive. If that requires 36658 and 99111 to hug each other or watch each other's back, you will do that to the best of your ability, no questions or complaints, understood?"
*Nod nod nod!*
"But-" 99111 peeps, earning another sharp look from 387, "h- how do we f-figure out who- who's right? I think 36658's stories are harming drones and I would like it to stop."
"My stories are helping! It doesn't matter if the stories are true or not, or that some are and some aren't. They motivate us to be better. Without them, we'd be alone most of the time in the tunnels, talking to ourselves! This way we can at least share a common goal to become better drones like High Score was, not just… just Silents who can talk! Sorry, Smiley."
*Wibble...*
"Can I say something?" asks 10013.
"Go on," again, something is amiss in 387's stern tone.
"It's clear we all just want to be better drones, but… but since we're not in this only for ourselves then we can't just live by what we think is better. 99111's question was valid - how do we know which way is correct… or more so?"
387 looks 10013 directly in the eyes, and from that brief exchange the drone suddenly feels the tiniest fraction of the weight of responsibility and difficult decisions, both ending up right and wrong, over the ages on 387's shoulders. Like before, of course, it has nowhere close enough experience to understand what that infectiously exhausted look truly means.
"Sometimes, you can't. You just have to act on your convictions, and I think I have an idea how to give all of you some agency over this. 1988 told me about how High Score kept you drones focused on the greater goal when you were in the lumber camp, that you earned a reward for gaining love throughout the day and improving the hive's reputation. We'll do a similar thing here."
Everyone suddenly feels a shift in their mind, and a table accessible to everyone appears, reading:
10013: 0
20100: 0
36658: 0
99111: 0
99380: 0
99526: 0
Smiley: 0
"You're going to get points for deeds that reflect positively on us, further the hive's goals, or in the least spare us the need to feed you," explains 387, "What constitutes such deeds will be judged by me, 93, or the Queen. In order to motivate you better, you will be able to trade points for requests from us. I'm sure I'll be able to persuade 93 and the Queen to agree. The point cost of requests will vary based on our judgement, and the only limit to them will be your imagination," 387 raises an eyebrow at 36658, "For example, someone with enough points might just ask the Queen to officially say that High Score wasn't just a drone, but a super drone first class, or whatever they want," next he looks at 99111, "Or perhaps they might ask the Queen to take a look at which particular stories about High Score will be allowable to tell others, and root out the particularly problematic ones," he shrugs, "Or maybe something entirely different and simple like a love refill beyond standard feeding."
"Hey, that way you can compete while still doing good things and being on the same side," 10013 forces a smile, looking from 36658 to 99111 and back.
"Sounds good to me," 99111 nods.
36658 looks away, mumbling:
"...I didn't really mean it when I said I wanted to smack you…"
"That means yes!" beams 20100 in relief.
"Good," 387 turns away and opens the door, "I hope I can finally get to enjoy myself after yesterday."
When he leaves, 99111 stands up and points its foreleg at 36658 stuck in the hammock.
"I'm going to stop you, fanatic! In a good way."
36658 smirks, puffing out its chest.
"Give it your best shot, heretic! High Score will guide our steps. Right, 20100?"
"Yeah!" 20100 agrees.
"Gasp, that's two on one! That's cheating!" complains 99111.
"Nu-uh!" 36658 shakes its head.
"Really?" 99111 looks at 10013.
"I didn't hear anything against that," it shrugs.
"Goop!" 99111 huffs, "99526, 99380, are you with me?"
"Yeah!" 99526 nods.
"I like all of you and I'm happy we're friends again," 99380 hugs Smiley who licks its face, "I'll stay in the heretics' cabin so that we can have a hug pile, but if you want a bigger one here just call me."
99380 is happy.
The worries about yesterday's split are gone, there's a fresh breeze blowing over the top deck, and the big sky shiny is slowly rising. Occasionally, a servant trots by, shoots the drone a curious glance, and goes about their business which seems to be getting something to eat or drink in one of the only two open establishments further away on the deck. 99380 is sitting on a bar stool, at peace. An opportunity to gain these 'points' should show itself eventually, and rushing around might only make it miss it.
A yawning green pegasus wearing a colorful shirt open in the front walks past and behind the bar counter where he starts checking the area for something which 99380 can't identify.
"You know, we won't be open for another hour," says the pegasus in passing, "I'm just checking if we're stocked up for the day."
"That's okay, I like how quiet it is now. And these tall chair thingies are great for looking around. You see, when I was walking through this place yesterday, I could barely see anything through all the ponies and legs everywhere," 99380 shrugs before getting an idea, "Umm, am I not supposed to be here?"
"Hm?" the pegasus finally finds a set of keys and opens the liquor cabinet in the back, "No, it's fine. Feel free to hang around," he pauses, trots over to the far side of the counter, and fiddles with a strange box for a moment before-
"Kchrrrrhshshhssssss!"
"Eep, you made the box mad!" yelps 99380, crouching on the bar stool to keep the counter between itself and the box.
The pegasus briefly glances its way before resuming fiddling with the knobs.
"It's just a radio."
99380 tilts its head.
"Is it always this angry?"
"Gimme a sec…" mumbles the pegasus, "It takes finesse to catch something after a whole night of floating."
"-and this concludes the Maretime Bay morning news. Next up - Fuzzy Nimbus and the weather report!" a mare's quiet and slightly distorted voice suddenly comes out of the box.
"Aaand there we go!" the pegasus says, satisfied as the radio greets the new day, "Enjoy! From tomorrow it'll be griffon radio stations only."
As 99380 keeps staring at the radio in disbelief, the pegasus returns to counting the supplies.
"Hello, ponies-!" an energetic female voice replaces the quieter one coming out of the box.
"Awww…" 99380's excitement fades a little.
Should I be listening?
"-and all you other creatures of Equestria and beyond!"
I should, that means me too!
"Eeeeheheheee!" 99380 claps its hooves together, "Hello, boxy!"
"Today, we're up for another beautiful Summer day from the coast all the way to Canterlot! Clear skies and wind speeds perfect for easy soaring in the sky."
"Neat!"
"However, it's time for our usual Summer reminder - take a break over noon and stay in the shade. You don't want to risk a heat stroke."
"I sure will! I don't like getting struck. I think 99685 does, but that drone is kinda weird even by our standards. Nice guy, though."
"So, overall, things are looking glorious for now. Buuut, be careful-"
"Oh no!"
"-because the public readings from the weather stations down southeast of the Forbidden Jungle spell some potential for a massive storm. The pegasi weather teams will be doing their best to stop clouds from forming along the coastline, but we'll keep you informed for today and tomorrow in case things get worse."
"Thank you, Miss boxy!"
"This has been Fuzzy Nimbus, and now it's time for some easy listening!"
"Thank you, Miss Fuzzy Nimbus!" 99380 waves at the radio before mumbling, "What a friendly talky box. Did you name it?" it asks the bartender.
"You don't have a radio where you come from?" asks the pegasus.
99380 creeps closer to the box.
"Nope. First time I'm seeing something like that. It's amazing! How does it talk without a mouth? Is it like our head talking?"
Seeing the drone smile from ear to ear, the pegasus feels a stab of pain in his heart at having to tell it that the radio can't hear it.
"Fuzzy Nimbus is a weather pony from Maretime Bay radio station. We're still sailing down the Equestrian coastline so we can catch their signal. The radio just lets us hear what they're saying, they can't hear you back. It's part technology, part magic. You'd have to ask a smart unicorn for more details. I use it for the news and some ambience."
"Ohhhh…" 99380 nods, and the pegasus lets out a sigh of relief as the drone's mood doesn't seem to worsen at all, "We don't have thingies like that back home. When we need to talk to others who aren't around, we use our links. That's like talking but without a mouth. We can talk to a whole bunch of changelings like that at the same time," 99380 rubs its chin, "Hmmm, I've got an idea."
"Hello, hive mind! This is 9-"
"SHUT UP THIS EARLY!" comes an immediate angry reply from Chrysalis.
"Oops. Sorry, Your Majesty!"
Chrysalis' link locks up.
"Are there any problems?" asks 93.
"Uh, no. I was just trying out something new."
"Explain."
"I'm listening to a talky radio box up here on the top deck and there was a nice lady speaking out of it. She said the weather would be nice all day but that we should find some shade around noon or the heat would smack us. So… I just wanted everyone to know."
93's link remains silent for a moment, but 99380 can feel she's still actively connected, just either thinking or busy. Eventually, she doesn't reply. Instead, 99380's mind lights up with a mysterious reminder before 93's link disconnects.
New task:
Meet 93; location: B-3-21x5y; time: +5h 21m; reward: 1 point
"Your Majesty?" asks 93 after quietly tapping on Chrysalis' door.
After a groan from the suite, Chrysalis replies:
"Come in, 93."
Inside, 93 gives the messy bed containing one unconscious griffon a curious look before bowing to the Queen.
"Your Majesty, I would like to request time off over noon. Presumably from 12:00 to-"
"Sure. Who's the lucky stallion?" Chrysalis winks at her.
"Your Majesty, that's not-!" 93 huffs.
"A mare then, I don't judge," she shrugs.
"It's 99380!" blurts out 93.
That gives Chrysalis a pause. However, being the infiltrator queen she recovers near instantly.
"By my irresistibly addictive holes, I heard about slumming, but a drone?"
"Your Majesty, I just want to-"
"No need to describe your specific kink," Chrysalis waves her foreleg dismissively, "You're way too vanilla for me not to get bored anyway. Do you want to hear about how I-?"
"You've stretched this a little too far, Your Majesty…" 93 groans.
"Exactly what all three of them said when they slid off of my three d- so you already heard that one?" Chrysalis smirks. When 93 only sighs and looks at the floor, she rolls her eyes, "Look, 93, when I need you I'll call you. Until then, stick to the plan. Phase one went off almost without a hitch yesterday, but you still have a lot to do."
"I am nervous, Your Majesty."
"That's your problem, 93. I hereby order you to get buzzed ASAP. It'll make dealing with the usual drone nonsense easier too."
93 sighs.
"Understood, Your Majesty. Do you require me to…" she nods to the griffon on the bed.
"Obviously. Should I start giving you points as motivation too?"
"No need, Your Majesty."
"Good, then go out and enjoy yourself. Remember the plan."
With another bow, 93 leaves the suite. Chrysalis shakes her head as she glances at the completely exhausted griffon, and mumbles to herself:
"Not a particularly filling experience, but so far it doesn't feel like the drones need too much of a refill. Shame they did a better job in that regard than both 93 and 387."
What she doesn't know is that 387 is standing by the wall of the hoofmaiden suite next door, ear pressed against it, with a devious smirk on his face.
I KNEW IT! I knew there was more than just going on a trip. Now, how to figure out her overall goal and stop it before it screws us over?
The radio has been making noises for some time. Not talking, just making noises. 99380 starts humming along and swaying its head from side to side because those are pleasant noises.
"Liking the music, I take it?" the bartender asks when he hears the changeling following the tune pretty much perfectly, only with a tiny delay, "Quiet lo-fi goes great with early morning."
"I like these noises very much," replies 99380 politely, "Is the Fuzzy lady making those too?"
"No, that's just a recording. So… you don't know how music works either?"
99380 shakes its head, feeling even more lost than usual.
"Sorry…"
"I didn't mean it as criticism," the bartender says quickly, "I'm just surprised, that's all. I thought that you changelings kinda knew everything about ponies so that you could… umm… you know… do the whole replacement thing."
"Ooooh!" 99380 nods in understanding, "That's high ranks, not us drones. I'm sure 93 or 387 know all about music and radios and Fluffy ladies, and the Queen does for sure, but we just live in the tunnels of the hive, digging holes and moving anything that needs moving."
"You mean you've never replaced a pony and feasted on their partner's love?"
"Oh holes no," 99380 chuckles, shaking its head, "I've never even seen a pony up close before this whole trip."
"Funny how little we know about each other," the bartender finishes with his examination of stock, "Hey, changeling, I gotta go down for supplies. If you want, I can leave the radio on."
"That would be great!" 99380 beams, "Do you think there will be more talking ponies on?"
"For sure."
99380 puts its head on the counter and closes its eyes, listening to the music and humming along. Peaceful minutes pass until the drone hears approaching hoofsteps and the bar stool next to it moves.
"Heya!" says a cheerful, slightly buzzing voice.
99380 mentally prods the closest hive link, from which comes a chipper reply:
"Yep, that's me too!"
The link is familiar but still one which it had never connected to before. The drone sits up and turns to the right, facing…
…the wide open teal eyes and the happy smile of another drone. This one is practically glowing with love and there are absolutely no scratches or unhealed scars anywhere on its carapace. On top of everything, it has a belt with a small, dark purple saddle bag around its chest, a scabbard with a metal stick on a belt around its waist, and it's wearing horseshoes of the same hue.
"Hi!" 99380 pokes the other drone's chest, concluding its examination with: "You're not from the hive, are ya?"
"Of course I am!" the other drone pauses, "I mean, I hatched there but I live in Canterlot these days. My name's 65536. Nice to meet you!" it offers a hoof, "That's a pony thing - you shake it."
"Ohmyholes, you're the hero of soup! I'm 99380," it hooks a jagged protrusion on its foreleg into 65536's leg hole and they shake their forelegs, "What are you doing here? The pony said he had to get some things but he didn't need any help carrying them. Goop, I suppose I should have asked just to be sure. Oh well, there will be another chance to gain points."
"Points? I like those. What do you get for them?" asks 65536, "Did you see Luna's plushie in High Score's shrine? I got it by earning enough points for smacking fake gribblers."
"Woooow," 99380's jaw drops from being in the presence of a legend, "I don't think I'm allowed to do that here, though."
65536 turns its head from side to side.
"Yup, no real or fake gribblers anywhere in sight. How do you get points then?"
"By helping!"
"Gasp! That's the best way!" 65536's ears perk up, "You wanna help me?"
"For sure. I can dig stuff but I'm not allowed to, I can carry stuff too, and I learned how to hum a music today."
"THEN WE CAN CARRY AND HUM TOGETHER!" exclaims 65536 and hops down from the bar stool.
"Wait wait wait!" 99380 shakes its head, "I'm not sure I can leave while the radio is making noises."
"Ooooh, that's a conundrum, but I think I can help," 65536 flies up on the counter and to the radio. A second of fiddling later, the radio shuts down with a click, "Ta daa!"
"YOU'RE SO SMART!" 99380 nearly falls off of its stool.
"I like you," 65536 trots back across the counter before jumping on its stool and then on the floor.
"I like everyone," replies 99380, following 65536, "As long as they're not mean."
"Most ponies are nice when you get to meet them," 65536 leads the way towards the open establishment on the other side of the deck, "But there are baddies too. I get to meet them sometimes as a Nightguard. And when I do, I gotta stand my ground and stop them from doing bad things."
"Sounds scary," 99380 nods its head wisely, "I don't think I'd be able to do that. Before we went on this trip, I had to run away from thorny shooters and they scratched me something fierce."
"Ohhh, those are nasty. I'd run too."
"Whoah, really?!"
"Yup. Sometimes you just gotta run too, but the trick is knowing when you do and when you don't. And, you know, sometimes you gotta stay so that the others can run. It's tough," 65536 rubs the side of its head, "Two months ago, I had to stop a baddie trying to rob an old mare," when faced with 99380's puzzled look, 65536 adds, "That means he tried to take her stash without permission. He was armed too, with a studded club - that's a sturdy stick with knobs for harder smacking."
"That's mean!" 99380 frowns, "And dangerous. Sticks can be nasty."
"Yup, So I showed him my badge, then I wibbled at him, nothing worked."
"OH NO!" 99380 gasps in horror.
"Yup, I had to use my truncheon - that's a slightly padded anti-baddie smacking stick that hurts but doesn't harm you much," 65536 pats the scabbard on its belt before showing 99380 its singular leg hole in its left foreleg, "You stick it into your cup holder and swing it. Ponies gotta use their mouths, which means they don't get that much reach, so this works super well."
"I was wondering why you had only one hole in each foreleg and both in the same place."
"Oh, it's not just for weapons. Cup holders are super useful. I'll show ya," 65536 flies up to take a good look at the counter of the establishment they've finally reached. There are twelve drone-sized vats filled with a different colorful substance each. In short, it's an ice cream stand, "I'll have a big cone of vanilla with chocolate chips, please, plus the Ultra Giga Tub of cookie dough flavor with banana chunks," 65536 points to two vats before giving the chubby mare behind the counter its badge.
"That tub's bigger than you, little guy," she chuckles, "Are you guards even allowed to eat so much?"
"That's not for me," 65536 shakes its head, "How about you, 99380?"
"How about me what?" the drone tilts its head.
"You don't want ice cream?"
"Umm, that thing?" 99380 flies up to 65536's level and looks through the protective glass shield. After a brief examination, it points at a green vat, "I like the color."
"Okie dokie," says the mare while giving 65536 its cone. Some staring at 99380 later, she adds, "I need your identification to know which delegation's tab to charge."
"Like this," 65536 waves its Nightguard badge before putting it back into its bag.
"I, uhh, didn't get anything like that. Was I supposed to?" 99380 looks around, unsure how to proceed.
"Can you check if Queen Chrysalis set up a spendings account for the staff?" asks 65536.
The mare looks under the counter, pulls out a notepad, flicks some pages, and finally shakes her head.
"I'm afraid that Queen Chrysalis' delegation only set up the royal level account."
"That sounds just like her," chuckles 65536 while shaking its head, "Alrighty, one cone of mint on my tab for my buddy."
"Coming right up while the tub fills," the mare grabs a second cone to fill it with the mint-flavored ice cream. With expert speed, she soon offers it to 99380 who carefully grabs it with both forelegs and sniffs it.
"Smells like 36658's agonyslayers."
"Isn't it making tormentannihilators now?" asks 65536.
"I think the newest version is called sufferingobliterators, but that one's still in development."
"Nice! Anyway, look," 65536 slips the cone directly into its leg hole until it gets stuck, "Cup holders. Cone holders too," it waves its leg to show that the cone wont drop out, "Try it!"
"That's so useful!" 99380's jaw drops along with the cone into its freshly customized leg hole. It observes 65536 for an example on what to do with this cream made of ice, whatever that means. Licking it looks to be the main goal, so the drone does so, "Brrrrrr!" it shudders, "IT'S SO COLD!"
"That's the point. It cools you down when the sun makes it too hot out here," 65536 smiles, its mouth covered in white smudges, "Miss Gem always says I shouldn't eat so much sweet stuff, that I'm a diabeetus on legs already, but it's just so delicious!"
"I like this thingy," 99380 gathers the courage to bite off a bigger chunk before its eye starts twitching, "Myheadmyheadmyheadmyhead!"
"Oooh, brain freeze. You gotta eat slower," 65536 nods knowingly.
"I SO WISH I WAS SMILEY RIGHT NOW!" exclaims 99380.
65536 doesn't react to 99380 rubbing its head, instead looking straight up at someone suddenly casting a huge shadow over both of them. When 99380 recovers, it looks up too, and its flight-and-more-flight instinct takes over. Unfortunately, maybe, its legs completely fail to listen.
The new arrival is a positively massive unicorn mare. Not as tall as Princess Celestia, but she could be very close to Luna's size, and broader. Her bulging muscles hint at her being able to pick up the entire ice cream stand and throw it from one end of the ship to the other, if she even needed to do so without the telekinesis provided by her long horn. Her tail is cropped short and bound, her mane is styled into a pixie cut, and both are bright, almost platinum, blond. 99380's eyes linger on something it recognizes, though, which is the wealth of scars criss-crossing her short, white coat all over her body. Either ponies don't heal those as easily as changelings do, or she's keeping them to show all the wounds she suffered, 99380 can't even begin to guess which. What the real thing paralyzing it is, is her missing right eye crossed by yet another vertical scar, fully replaced by a pool of gold glow. All her scars seem to be glowing golden from the inside, in fact, albeit only slightly in contrast to the lost eye. Her healthy eye is normal green, a fact which lets 99380 breathe again when it notices it.
65536 salutes.
"Good morning, Acting Grandmaster Sun Hammer!"
The mare's stern expression doesn't change as she replies:
"You're off-duty. No reason to salute."
"Mister Sharp used to say that we're all off-duty only until there's trouble and then we're on duty again, no matter where we are or what time it is," counters 65536 with a proud smile.
"He was a good pony and I'm glad to see he left his mark on you," she nods.
99380 salutes with a trembling foreleg.
*Squelch!*
"I'm a unicorn now…" it mumbles, staring at the mare non-stop while the ice cream starts dripping down its head from the cone stuck on its forehead by the nervous salute, "I'm cold now…" tears pool in its eyes as the mare focuses all her attention at it, "...and scared…"
Her presence. It's so much worse than being glared at by a high rank after failing at filling its quota. 99380 did something completely idiotic in front of her and it knows she will remember and do… something.
However, she only glances at 65536 before stepping past 99380 without a word. The drone lies down on the floor and covers its head with both forelegs, smudging the ice cream all over itself. It's only 65536 licking its head that makes it look up again.
"Ahh, good old mint. I don't buy that one much these days," says 65536, draping one foreleg over 99380, "You okay, buddy?" it asks, voice full of concern.
"N-No," 99380 looks at the now empty cone stuck in its cup holder, "I was so scared… and now she knows how much of a dummy I am… and that means I made the hive look bad too… and-"
"Here," two fresh cones float over to, held by the golden glimmer of telekinesis, both filled by chocolate ice cream. One stops in front of 99380 and one by 65536, "Be more careful with these."
"Wooow, thank you!" 65536 smiles as Sun Hammer walks away, heading towards the front of the ship.
"T-Thank you," stutters out 99380, the ice cream stuck in the air in front of it despite the telekinesis fading.
"Your Giga Tub is ready," announces the stall owner.
"Perfect!" 65536 pats 99380's back, "I got ice cream to carry and places to be. Wait, one more thing."
"Huh?" 99380 sniffles and looks at 65536.
"Boop!" 65536 pokes its nose, and 99380 feels its love reserves replenish completely, "Took me a while to learn to do that properly," 65536 grabs the massive bucket of ice cream and goops it to its back before waving at 99380, "See ya later, and don't forget to eat the cone too!"
"Bye bye!" 99380 waves back, stunned by everything that just happened and munching on the empty cone.
"Darn," the stall owner walks over, "Can I help you clean up?"
"Huh?" 99380 wipes its eyes, only succeeding in adding crumbs to the ice cream mess all over its face, "No… no… I made a dummy of myself but at least I can be a clean dummy," it looks downwards, "And I'll wipe the floor too. No reason to waste good icy cream," it starts licking the mint off of the floor as the second cone remains floating near it without melting.
"Oookay," she has no idea what to do about the changeling eating off the floor as if it was normal, so she just says, "And don't feel bad. I almost peed myself when she ordered the ice creams for you. That mare was terrifying."
99380 couldn't agree more.
"If you're not showering then get out of here!" a mare looks out of a shower stall with an annoyed expression, pointing towards the small locker room where two other mares are waiting, holding a towel each, "And stop making that green mess everywhere. It's disgusting!"
99111 stops measuring the distance to the central floor drain with its foreleg on the back of Smiley curled up into a ball. 99526, currently standing between the two and the drain itself, holding a clump of green soap and preparing a soapy trail over which Smiley should slide right past the drain and between two selected tiles, shoves the clump into its leg hole and looks around innocently.
"We're not blocking the stalls, are we?" it asks no one in particular.
"You're scaring other ponies and, unlike you, we're busy!" replies the annoyed mare.
"Can we play in the corner?" asks 99526.
"Go away or I'll get the hose!" she grabs the shower nozzle and pulls it off of the wall, revealing an extending hose connected to it through a hole in the stall. Threateningly, she points it at the three rather confused changelings.
Figuring out that the curling session is over, Smiley sits up, examines the situation by sniffing towards the mare, and completely fails to come to any conclusion.
"Five… four…" the mare starts counting down, and pauses, giving the changelings a meaningful look.
"Three," 99111 gestures to her in an attempt to jog her memory, "And after that comes two."
The mare's eye twitches, she points the nozzle at 99111, flips a small switch on its side, and kicks the control handle on the wall behind her. 99526, seeing such a neatly coordinated trick, clops its hooves together…
…just as a thick, pressurized jet of cold water hits 99111 directly in the face.
"EEEEE-BLLRLBRLBLRLBRL!"
Giggling and happily clapping 99526 gets hit by a second stream coming from a different mare, tries to dodge, slips up, and slides into a wall. 99111 ends up the same, albeit with a bit more success during the first dodge. Smiley smiles. Despite angry voices in the beginning, now it looks like everyone is having fun again.
"GET. OUT."
99111 and 99526 rush into the locker room and then outside. The originally shy mares finally enter the shower section as well, shooting Smiley suspicious glances all the way.
"You didn't hear me?" the angry mare points the nozzle at Smiley who looks around and, without much worry, starts scrubbing the green soap residue off of the floor with its forelegs, "Grrrr!"
As the jet of water hits its back, Smiley just softens its carapace a tiny bit and concentrates entirely on cleaning the tiles. The massage feels nice so Smiley decides to try it with warm water next time.
After splitting up, 99111 wanders the insides of the ship. Thankfully, the Queen and 93 are close enough to be sharing the knowledge that allows it to read the signs on the walls.
So… points. 387 said anyone would be able to check them whenever needed.
10013: 0
20100: 0
36658: 0
99111: 0
99380: 1
99526: 0
Smiley: 0
Neat! For the good of all drones, I must make sure I'm ahead of 36658 and 20100 no matter what.
99111 examines the hive mind map of the ship, searching for places where it could be of use.
"Hmmm… a workshop is nearby. Not sure about shopping, but work sounds promising," it heads off towards the map marker.
The thick metal door seems to be sending a message that 99111 shouldn't be going inside. However, it quickly becomes clear after entering that the main reason for the door being so heavy must be the padding blocking the mix of loud noises inside.
There's a SECURITY pony working on something at the corner table. A mare is sitting at a different table operating a sewing machine. Loud clanging is coming from a griffon fixing a bent metal leg of a bar stool. Finally, amidst all that mess, Gem is carefully monitoring a set of beakers and much more chemistry equipment on a table in front of her. Seeing a familiar face, 99111 approaches the zebra.
"Hello, Miss Gem!"
"Hello, 99111," she replies amicably.
"You can distinguish between us?" 99111 gasps.
"You're the only one I introduced myself to yesterday," she remains staring at a small pile of white powder crystallizing from liquid in a thimble-sized glass jar.
"That's such defective thinking!" 99111 blinks in surprise.
"Detective," she corrects it, dipping a needle-shaped stick with a wool swab on the end in the powder.
99111 immediately re-checks the hive mind if it misspoke and realizes that yes, it did.
"You're right, how did you know I meant that? The other thing would make a pony angry… I think."
"Too much of a body language, personality, and speech discrepancy-" Gem stops herself, "Doesn't matter. Can I help you?"
"Oh, no no no," 99111 shakes its head, "I mean, maybe, but that's what I wanted to ask you."
"I thought you guys were here on a break. If that's the case then you should be having fun and enjoying yourself," she nods to the other current occupants of the workshop, "The only ones working right now are staff members keeping this ship floating and the shops stocked."
"Well, it's not so simple-"
While Gem's doing her completely mysterious activity, 99111 explains its situation regarding points, its beef with 36658 and 20100, and the reward it must win for the greater good.
"-I mean I'm not completely against them sharing their stories, but those like the one that High Score once threw a burning glob of goop into a swarm of needly shooters, the glob killed six of them, and then it exploded are silly and unhelpful!"
"That's a tough situation," says Gem, mixing the contents of two vials together, "To me it sounds like there's no clear answer to which one of you is right. Opinion against opinion, both with advantages and drawbacks, is always difficult."
"387 said something similar," 99111 sighs, "but he's not the one down in the depths. This is a drone conflict. Thankfully, 387 gave us the option to resolve it the drone way - by being useful. So…" it looks up at Gem with a hopeful face, "is there a way I can help you?"
"Unless you know a changeling skilled in drug making, I'm not really sure how-" she pauses, seeing 99111 freeze with a scrunched face, "You know one, don't you?"
If I tell her, 36658 might get a point. If I don't tell her, I'll be a bad drone.
What would High Score d-? NO! What would any respectable LIVING drone do? What would 10013 do?
10013 did admit that High Score was rank 9999, not some super ling, even if it clearly respects High Score.
After the moral dilemma, 99111 grumbles quietly:
"...36658…"
"I didn't hear you over that griffon's hammering," Gem smirks.
"36658 knows how to make some healing drugs," 99111 pouts at her, "I can go tell it to come see you."
"It's worth a try. Thank you," Gem gives it a warm smile.
Next, she pats 99111's head, and the drone immediately feels love course through it and fill it up. An idea comes to mind, a much less combative one.
Perhaps I could earn a point by sharing with everyone. The less the Queen or the high ranks have to worry about our well-being, the more time they'll have to enjoy themselves.
"Fine, I'll go find 36658," 99111 lets out a heavy sigh, "But remember, it's a meanie who deserves only half a point at best!"
Gem chuckles.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Having received a back massage and successfully cleaned the mess left behind by the curling practice, Smiley wanders around the ship until it reaches a door. Unlike many it's passed since boarding, this one is impeding its progress, which in itself isn't a problem, but according to the current state of the hive map, this door doesn't lead anywhere, and that seems strange. Going backwards wouldn't solve anything, and the strange scribbles above the door mean nothing to Smiley.
Puzzled face.
It walks into the door for a short time, just in case it budges. Its forehead is now a little sore, so it hardens its carapace again. Clearly, massage time is irrevocably over. Perhaps it could head up instead of down this time? Most of the other minds it can faintly sense seem to be that way. It boops the door with its nose to no avail.
Disappointed face.
*BOOM!*
A loud explosion behind it rattles the nearest door to the left-
Spooked face! Spooked face!
-immediately followed by a thin plume of black smoke coming from under it.
*BANG BANG BANG!*
Someone is on the other side, coughing, choking, and kicking the door. Twitching with every weakening blow against the wood, Smiley pushes against the handle.
Nothing happens.
Confused face.
Smiley saw other drones operate a handle. This one doesn't look any different.
"...can't see… kick the door… locked… pleeease…" a barely audible voice croaks on the other side.
The voice isn't saying any orders, but the tone doesn't feel as if everything is okay.
"...help…"
Finally, a clear request in a word Smiley can understand.
Smiley kicks the door with all its limited might. It shakes but holds fast. One more failed attempt later, Smiley comes to the executive decision - the entire point of its existence was supposedly to go splat against a shimmering pink bubble. That means it's made for going splat against things. It's also supposed to help others. Door is a thing and someone is behind it, calling for help. Equation solved, Smiley walks to the door on the opposite side, hardens its carapace as much as it can, and charges straight forward.
The lock can't handle a direct hit like that, and the door slams open inside, letting out clouds of heavy, black smoke into the hallway. In response, something starts beeping everywhere, but Smiley is too dazed by the impact to escape, lying head-down bent into a C against the outer wall of the 'unlocked' cabin.
The coughing and wheezing grows stronger and is joined by hoofsteps rushing closer until someone asks:
"What happened here? Where's the fire?"
More hacking and gasping for air later, a raspy female voice replies:
"No… no fire… just smoke bombs… for the… resort show. Now which… which one of you… saved The Great… and Breathing… Trixie's lungs?"
As a security pegasus fans the black clouds into the hallway, Smiley's upside-down vision clears, revealing an incredibly cramped cabin full of chests and bags, a group of security staff, and a white-maned blue unicorn mare still gasping for air with tears streaming from her red-rimmed eyes.
They all look at Smiley who tries to wave at them with its hind legs, because those are the legs that are higher and thus closer to the faces of everyone. Sometimes, simple instructions are the best.
Upside-down, waiting face.
10013: 0
20100: 0
36658: 0
99111: 0
99380: 1
99526: 0
Smiley: 5
Happy face.
10013: 0
20100: 0
36658: 0
99111: 0
99380: 1
99526: 0
Smiley: :-) :-) :-) :-) :-)
"What the holes?!"
99526 is staring at a heavily-built griffon wearing a white shirt and a hat associated with the ship's staff. Said griffon is operating some completely unknown machinery situated by the railing in the back of the cruise ship, enjoying the relative quiet and seemingly not particularly bothered by the changeling's presence.
There are two reasons why 99526 is here.
The first one is that it's never seen a griffon before, and the hive mind tooltip only said [Aggressive, to be avoided]. On the other hole, no one on the ship was to harm the changelings, supposedly, and despite the warning, the griffon didn't throw anything when he first saw 99526, nor did he yell at it to go away. Such a discrepancy needed to be rectified, and maybe reporting a misleading hive mind tooltip would earn it a point or two.
The second reason is the main one. Next to the griffon sits a heavy box with steam coming out of it from which 99526 can smell ringy chompers. Ringy chompers are always bad news - you see a ring on the water and if you don't react immediately you get chomped. Those monsters being anywhere on the ship could be the worst thing ever and would make curling unplayable.
"Hello, Mister griffon!" 99526 finally gathers the courage to speak out, "Why are you putting ringy chompers into a box?"
"Ring what?" he only looks back at the drone carefully circling the ice box, rotating the drum of a stationary winch, "Hey, leave that alone! That's for the Manehattan griffon ambassador."
99526 stops trying to peek over the edge of the ice box.
"Are those… dead?"
"Yeah. Pretty hard to grill them when they're still alive," replies the griffon, finally pulling out a small net containing several more ringy chompers.
"Phew," 99526 lets out a sigh of relief before trotting over to the griffon who empties the net on the floor and starts picking out some of the caught fish. Freshly caught fish, "AAAAH!" 99526 jumps backwards when the nearest ringy chomper flaps one final time before remaining lying limp on the floor, "Be careful or they'll eat you!"
The griffon raises an eyebrow, meaningfully slitting the throat of a fish with a talon and letting it bleed out before tossing it into the ice box.
"Did you need anything or are you just here to freak out over herrings?"
Gasping for air, heart beating, and shaking from adrenaline, 99526 glares at the small, now motionless, fish. A rather small fish, now that it thinks about it.
"Those… those are kinda… small. Does that mean… they don't eat… changelings? The ringy chompers I know about can bite a drone in half, or at least take a leg off easily."
With the icebox now full, the griffon seems to be done with its selection process. He grabs one of the remaining herrings and lobs it into the air. A seagull swoops down from a cloud of them hanging above the ship's rear, catching it before any other can.
"We eat them," is all the griffon says, "And so do they."
99526 carefully approaches a dead herring and slowly pokes it with the tip of its hoof. When it doesn't move anymore, the drone looks at the griffon who grabs a different one and throws it to the circling birds again.
"Can I do that too?" asks 99526.
"I don't know, can you?" the griffon shrugs. 99526 has no clue how to read an expression of someone with a beak, but the griffon's eyes look on the border of amusement.
99526 loads a fish into its leg hole and lobs it as hard as it can. The arc is significantly lower than the casual throw of the griffon, and 99526 rushes over to the railing to take a look at the fish falling back into the sea.
And whoosh!
With only the smallest splash, a seagull catches it just before it hits the water, prompting a happy 'Eeee!' from the drone as well as an approving clap.
"If you want, you can throw the rest to the birds too. They're not fit for grilling," the griffon hefts the icebox onto its back, "Guests often do that. I'll be back in ten to clean the deck."
"Thank you!" replies 99526 politely, grabbing another fish to throw.
The griffon leaves.
As 99526 fails another throw and leans over, its eyes catch a floaty lagging behind the ship like one which Miss Cadance showed it yesterday. It's barely visible, though, being the same color as the sea water. 99526 could swear there's someone holding onto it, but no one is calling for help or anything, so it's probably fine.
Now, if these aren't ringy munchers then we don't have a name for them, but I don't know what those do to name them properly, so let's stick to the griffon name.
After throwing the rest of the herrings to the birds, 99526 grabs the mop which the griffon left behind and starts wiping the deck.
"Points, points, pointy points," mutters 10013 to itself as it wanders through the corridors of the ship, "Be helpful, don't make the high ranks refill you, or do something special for the hive. Come to think of it, what do ponies do here all day? High Score, give me a sign!" 10013 pauses, looks around, and when nothing happens it adds, "Please?" with a chuckle and shaking its head, the drone passes a staircase next to which hangs a sign reading [Schedule] under which there's a long list filled with writing.
Good thing I helped the Potatoes with designing High Score's memorial so I don't have to tap into anyone to read this.
"Thanks, buddy," 10013 looks at the floor, "I hope the great gablonk is full of shinies today."
Satisfied, 10013 reads the sign.
"Oooh, light show on the main deck!" it slowly deciphers the writing closest to its head, unfortunately, it's the one on the bottom of the list, "21:00 - uhh, hive mind?" in response, the hive mind translates the military time to the time of the day in a way the drone can understand, "Ah, close to pony sleepy time. Alrighty," it flies up to the beginning of the list, "Lecture, public - griffon customs and etiquette, lecture, public - a brief history of Crystal Empire, lecture, public-"
Translation: Story time for everyone.
"-ah. Oooh, Presentation, public - Life and times of Gusty the Great-"
Translation: Story time with pictures.
10013 drops on the ground again.
All these storytimes sound pretty interesting. Maybe learning about other places could be useful for points too?
36658 has been tracking 20100's hive link in order to secure an ally in the great war for points. Also to ask if 20100 has any ideas on how to gain these elusive things, because, so far, the daily life on the ship didn't have a place for a drone looking for work aside from their stroke of luck yesterday.
"Whatcha doing?" it asks, finally finding the drone in question curled up on the roof of a tall, multi-story establishment covering the back third of the main deck.
"Drawing!" replies 20100, showing the picture of a sunrise done in pencil that would bring a tear to the eye of any master painter.
"No point gathering?"
"Nope. I asked around and everyone I met said they were busy," 20100 shrugs, "So I decided to get started practicing on backgrounds for my new moving picture set about High Score."
"Oooh, what's it going to be?"
"I'm not exactly sure yet. I was thinking about what 99111 said and I wanted it to be a little more grounded but still awesome."
"More grounded you say? How about the one about when High Score carried an important but super fragile egg, it didn't walk and bob up and down, but instead it carefully moved the world with its legs while staying in one place?"
"How was that more grounded?" 20100 gives it a skeptical look.
"It's set back at home, so it's undergrounded!"
"Huh, I can see the logic, but, you know, did that really happen?"
"Well…" 36658 rubs its chin, "Who can say that it didn't, right?"
"The queen or the high ranks. You know, the same changelings whom High Score would stop from munching us forever if it could do everything you say."
Faced with such resistance from a long-time friend, 36658 grabs 20100 by the shoulders and looks it in the eyes.
"High Score saved my life. High Score saved your life. High Score saved the lives of many drones. I don't want it to be forgotten, which will happen if I just say that it was a drone who got the highest rank by being the smartest and the most skilled. We -the drone we, not us we- need more than that, buddy."
"Will you listen to me if I say something that's borderline 99111-ish or will you just hear what I say and ignore me?" 20100 gently pushes 36658 back.
"You're my buddy, 20100. Of course I will!"
"Then don't you think you're pushing High Score away from us drones by those over the top stories?"
"Uhhh, I don't understand."
"Wasn't the whole point of spreading the word about High Score showing the newly hatched drones what they can become instead of… all this? I don't even know what to call what we're doing these days. I didn't want to hurt you, but I kiiinda understand where 99111 is coming from."
36658 stares, opens its mouth, closes it, stares.
20100 sighs, adding:
"I'm sorry, buddy. I for sure don't think 99111's way is right either, but I think there should be a middle between the two of you. You want a picture? I drew a huge, scary, unicorn lady I saw swimming in a pool earlier. She glowed!" it flips the pages of its notepad to show 36658.
36658, however, turns around and starts walking away.
"I'm… I'm just gonna go… wibble… in the corner somewhere…"
20100 flips the notepad to a fresh page, ignoring the incomplete sunrise picture, and starts drawing a perfect likeness of 9999 from memory.
High Score will reveal to us the right path, we just have to be patient and never give up on looking. I know, deep in my noggin, that you and 99111 will figure out a way that will make us drones stronger and better than ever.
As 36658 wanders through the bowels of the ship, now emptying due to everyone enjoying themselves on the main deck again, a hive link communication it would expect the least arrives in its head:
"Finally!" says 99111, which is followed by a mental marker appearing on the hive mind map, "Look, Miss Gem is looking for you. That's the nice zebra we met yesterday in the showers. She said it was something about making agonyslayers. I warned her about you being a violent meanie, but her business sounded important."
Even 36658 has to admit that aimlessly walking around like it's been doing for the last hour is leading nowhere. On the other hole, the one presenting the information is the ultimate heretic.
"...thanks…" it forces out, changing its direction mid-step towards the new marker.
Hesitant silence fills the mental connection, and after a moment, 99111 asks:
"Are you okay?"
36658 ponders it for several seconds. It understands 99111's and 20100's and now probably everyone's concerns, but… but none of them seem to understand or want to understand its position. Could it be because it's in the wrong?
I wish I knew the big words and how to string those together to help me explain all this properly. This isn't about us, this is about the future.
"...I don't know…" it replies and cuts off the connection.
The workshop is now empty with the exception of Gem who now has three tables set up in an angular C around herself, all filled with glassware containing powders and liquids of various colors. Despite its current philosophical conundrum, 36658 can't help being interested, so as it approaches Gem's workspace it grabs a chair and hops on it.
"99111 said you could use some help, Miss Gem. I'm 36658."
"Nice to meet you, 36658. I was told you had some experience with chemistry. I need help with refining a particular substance, and I myself am not sure what exact result I'm looking for," the zebra flashes it only the shortest glance.
36658 looks around, taking in the strange shapes and functions of the surrounding glassware.
"I, umm, I don't think we mean the same thing, Miss. I just eat various things and then check if my goop makes getting smacked hurt less."
"Things such as?"
"It used to be zebra bark but now I use poppies, and I'm experimenting with slimy hoppers, but that's not working as intended yet."
"Standard painkillers, hospital-grade," mumbles Gem while examining the level of liquid in one of the bendy bottles, "...frogs?"
"Not just any slimy hoppers, this is a small yellow kind from the swamp north of my poppy patch. I tried licking other kinds but they were just bleh."
"Hayseed Swamp, got it. What makes the frogs special?"
"Ehhh… they smell different?" 36658 replies hesitantly.
"I mean, what effects do they help you produce? What makes them different from morphine?"
"Mor-what?"
"Poppy-based drugs."
"Ah, you mean tormentannihilators. Well, these new ones kinda make me feel less worried up here," 36658 taps its head, "Smiley helped me once and I swear it kept making happy faces at me all the way from the hive, and 10013 told me it felt a bit more active. I call them sufferingobliterators."
"Less worried… so, a psychoactive substance," Gem pauses, "You just might be what I needed."
"Really? I haven't done anything yet."
That dismissal makes Gem pause what she's doing and lean over the workbench to the drone.
"You seem troubled. Is there a way I can help?"
"Huh? I'm supposed to be helping you, Miss, not the other way around."
"Friends help each other, don't they? Besides, this is going to likely take a lot of time, and sitting here in silence would be a little boring. What's bothering you- wait, first, do you have a sample of that sufferingobliterator?"
36658's jaw drops.
"YOU SAID IT RIGHT!" it regains a little bit of the usual drone enthusiasm. Gem remains looking at it with a questioning look, "Oh, yeah, this… yeah… very experimental," it opens a leg hole and puts a small green chip on the table.
"Thank you," Gem smiles, pulls out a small silvery flask from her saddlebag, takes a swig, swishes it around her mouth, swallows, and then eats the green chip, "Zebra transformation potion. With it, I can copy yours to a degree," she says before pulling three green chips out of her mouth, "Can you analyze these by smell or do you need a taste?"
36658 sniffs the three samples.
"They all smell the same to me, sorry," it shakes its head, "And if they work, I'll kinda be a bit dizzy to properly say which one does what. At home, I experiment only once every few days at most to avoid mixing stuff. What are you trying to make here, anyway?" it points at all the chemistry equipment.
"Antidepressants. For reasons too complicated to explain, I can't simply visit a doctor and have them prescribe those. Besides, I think the current state of magic and chemistry research regarding that topic is woefully inadequate - too many side effects, too many dependencies, too little… customization. It's like trying to forge a delicate necklace using only a maul. You can probably beat some shape into it but it's not the best solution," looking at 36658 and seeing a face completely empty of understanding, she simplifies it, "I'm trying to make something that helps with the pain in the head, not the rest of the body."
"I think even my agonyslayers help with that too. We get hit in the head often."
"That's not it. Have you ever heard of depression?"
"Like… a shallow hole?"
"Ah, I see…" Gem pauses, pondering for a moment how to translate her problem to the drone's understanding, "What do you enjoy, 36658? What makes you happy?"
"Digging, carrying, tending to my patch, thinking about new stories to tell about High Score, and helping drones heal after getting hurt," replies 36658, its expression brightening a little.
"Now imagine if all that went away. You had to keep doing it, but all it did was exhaust you. You tried different things too but it all ended the same way. And that went on and on and on, and the only way out you saw was ending your own life."
36658 freezes, its expression turns grim, and finally it starts bawling. Loud, sobbing, snot dripping down, wailing echoing through the workshop.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Gem leans back at the reaction.
"It's okay-" she pats its head to zero effect, "Stop imagining! Stop imagining!"
36658 stops and wipes its face.
"That was horrible!" it looks up with teary eyes at Gem.
"... that worked?" Gem tilts her head, "Nevermind, so that was an extremely simplified description of an incredibly complex problem. Now imagine that- wait, no, not again. Look, some ponies feel like that at some point in their lives. Reasons why can vary, but finding the strength to break out can be difficult or downright impossible without help. I know a stallion like that and I want to help him. While dealing with the root cause is bound to be a colossal effort, I can at least start by fixing the chemical imbalance in his brain."
"I want to help," says 36658 firmly, "Even if it can mean I don't get points for today, no one deserves to feel like that. I imagined it only for a moment and I never want that again. That's kinda how we lived before the new rules, but at least we liked digging and carrying. If that went away then we might have as well jumped into the crusher on our own. There was no hope, nothing more than a dark tunnel and inevitable death."
"So I heard…" Gem frowns, "Can you transform into a pony?"
36658 nods and, with a burst of green fire, it turns into an earth pony.
"...hmmm… only a surface-level transformation, this won't do…" Gem whispers to herself before speaking out loud, "I think I have an idea. Transform back," when 36658 does so, she says, "So, you'll transform into a pony and take one sample of these drugs. I'll monitor your reactions, ask you a few questions, and then we'll reset you into a changeling and then back into a fresh pony under no external effects."
"I… think I understood, uhh, parts of that," 36658 rubs its head.
"Don't worry, I'll tell you exactly what to do. Pony up again, will you?"
*Whoosh!*
For some reason, the transformation is much easier this time, even though it takes a little longer, but 36658 feels much more solid. It doesn't know how to explain it properly even to itself, or what changed from when it did so less than a minute ago.
"I feel weird."
"You've never looked better," says Gem with a smirk, "Now eat this, and while we're waiting for results you can finally tell me what's bothering you," she resumes fiddling with the various burners and beakers on the tables while 36658 makes itself comfortable in its chair.
"It'll be a long story, Miss."
"We both have a long day ahead of us then," she winks at 36658.
"Heh, now that I think about it, my problem sort of fits into yours, actually."
"How come?"
"Uhh, I think I don't know how to explain it properly, otherwise 99111 would understand me, but I believe that things are better if we believe that there's more to life than digging and carrying. I mean, we gotta do all that and that takes us most of our time, but we are more than… things or tools. Everyone thought Smiley was just a thing that does what anyone tells it, but now it's getting better at thinking and it can even communicate a bit, so we can become more."
"I'm with you so far," agrees Gem with a distant smile undecipherable to 36658.
"So, there was this drone, 9999, who managed things no other drone could, and I want its example to inspire everyone back home, but it got killed. I don't want its legacy to be - no matter how far you get or how good you are you'll just get munched because you are a tiny and weak drone and you'll never become anything else. I want us to feel like there's someone helping us, like we're not alone, like there's hope and that we can achieve so much more past digging the next tunnel. So… I mix made-up stories with what 9999 really did and spread those to others, because it's not enough to know that there was once a drone who saved a bunch of other drones from monsters over the course of its short life. I want us to feel like 9999 is still with us, and it's inspiring us to work hard and then play hard as a reward. That little spark that makes you flee from hissy melters faster than your love levels should allow? That's its helping hoof. It's to motivate you to not give up if you get into trouble you know you can't get out of, but to squeeze everything out of yourself, and maybe that tiny bit more you don't know where it comes from. If it means saying that High Score's tears could cure crushing, but a tough drone like High Score only cried once when it hatched and never again, is that so bad?"
Gem's eagerly listening ears twitch at that final part, making her look up from her chemistry equipment with a raised eyebrow.
"How do you even come up with this stuff?"
"Mostly when I'm trying to make new agonyslayers and get the dose wrong. The world gets all wobbly and then whoosh - a new idea," 36658 makes a mind-blown gesture with its forelegs.
"Ah, that explains so much…" mutters Gem, which makes 36658 pout at her, "But there's more to it, isn't there? You miss your friend a lot, don't you?"
"Yeah…" 36658 breathes out, "But it's about much more than that, and 99111 refuses to see that, saying that my stories are dangerous and make others careless. I wish I knew how to make it see what I see."
"Hope is a double-edged sword," she says carefully. 36658's shoulders slump as it realizes it probably lost… again, "Look, I'm not a good pony to talk to about the psychology of faith, but I know it can drive ponies to justifying insanely evil things as well as bring motivation. My mettle is more the natural sciences," she gestures to all the chemistry equipment around, "If it helps, I think your approach has merit but it still needs a lot of refining."
"I'd give my stash and my poppy patch away if it meant getting 9999 back…"
Gem walks around the barrier of tables and hugs 36658.
"Believe me, I know how it feels to lose someone irreplaceable," she whispers into its ear, "That's why I'm doing all this - so that someone else doesn't have to go through the same thing. We can take a break if you-"
"No," breathes out 36658, "If I'm sharing examples of what High Score would do, I can't be following them only when it suits me. I'm here to help, and if you're saying this will take a long time, then I'll be here a long time."
Gem kisses the drone's nose, and 36658 feels a rush of love revitalizing it.
"Sticking to your principles? I like it," she says with a renewed smile, "So, while we're working, how about you tell me about life in the hive and in turn I can tell you about Canterlot?"
The door of the staff coordinator's office opens, letting out a fuming blue unicorn who turns her head back in the door frame and yells:
"The Great and Powerful Trixie will NEVER pay you a single bit and you should be happy she won't sue you on the spot for a defective lock!"
"I'm sure our legal department will get a kick out of any lawyer you'll afford when you can't even pay for a broken lock," replies a clearly unimpressed voice from the office.
"AAAARGH!" Trixie slams the door so hard it rattles.
"It can still be two locks!" calls out the now muted voice.
"And you can suck Trixie's two cocks!" the blue unicorn doesn't wait for an answer this time and stomps off back towards her cabin on the other end of the ship.
Thankfully, the ventilation managed to get rid of the black smoke from her exploded props while she was being questioned by the security, so now there's only one black thing left, aside from the residue on everything, near her cabin.
"Great… you," Trixie's less than enthusiastic tone greets Smiley sitting outside her cabin just by the open door, "First you break the door for which I get charged and now you're… what? Waiting to drag me into a dark corner and drain me dry there?"
"PLEASE, DO THAT!" comes from the neighboring cabin along with a banging on the wall.
"SHUT YOUR CREAMPIE HOLE, AND THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE DOESN'T MEAN THE PASTRY!"
A mare peeks out from the next door, blushing from both embarrassment and anger.
"Changeling, she snores like a tractor and keeps monologuing nonsense in her sleep!" she says, "If you get her out of here I swear I'll send one of my hottest friends your way, no questions asked."
Smiley tilts its head. The mare doesn't seem angry at it, so everything is kinda okay. On the other hole, the proximity of the two mares to each other feels like the real problem which requires solving, preferably immediately.
"Trixie's monologues are the best part of her act!"
"Says a lot about the overall quality, doesn't it?" sneers the mare, "I've seen better spoken content in clop, and the mares in it gurgle rather than talk!"
"Nopony badmouths Trixie's act!" Trixie bends her legs, clearly ready to pounce.
"Hey, at least we agree on something. Nothing anypony can say can be worse than your show's content. I'd tell you to stick to whorseing but I can't believe there's anypony who would buck you even for free, you skinny stallion!"
"Okay, I've had just enough!" the unicorn snarls back, losing her third-person speech out of sheer rage, "If I'm going back to jail for not paying for this stupid door then I'm taking your teeth with me for the street cred!"
As Trixie tries to take a step forward, she realizes her legs aren't touching the ground anymore as, during her outburst, Smiley snuck under her belly and now simply rose itself up.
"Hey!" Trixie tries to keep the other mare in sight while Smiley carries her into her cabin by bending her neck as the door frame passes her by, "We're not finished!"
"Pretty sure we are!" the other mare calls out, "Or do I have to call the security on you?"
"...dumb bitch…" grumbles Trixie as Smiley lowers her on all fours in the middle of the blackened cabin and sits down, waiting for events to unfold. Trixie shoots the slightly smiling Silent an exhausted glare before her eyes land on the open door with the section containing the lock bent out of shape. One sigh later, she walks past Smiley and begins examining the damage, "Plywood and the cheapest lock on the market, and those assholes want me- Trixie to pay five times the price. Trixie could pick this in her sleep," she mutters, glancing back at Smiley watching her with a tilted head, "Don't look at Trixie like that, everypony does what they need to survive."
Smiley walks over and boops her.
"You don't have any idea what Trixie is saying, do you?" she asks. Smiley stares back, waiting for some clarification of the questioning tone. Instead, she resumes examining the lock, "Hmm, it might actually be a stroke of luck that this is such garbage. The wood can just be glued back together and the soft metal of the lock didn't break, it just bent."
*Confused face!* *Pleading face!* *Pleading face!*
99111, wandering around the ship since it informed 36658 about Gem's predicament, catches the broadcast.
"What's wrong?"
The only answer the drone gets is a mental map marker.
*Pleading face!*
"I'm on my way," 99111 breaks into a gallop.
The ship is huge but easy to navigate, and the drone was already on the level above staff deck, so when its hoofsteps echo through the hallway, Smiley peeks out of Trixie's cabin and waves at 99111 with a sigh of relief.
"What are you doing now?" asks Trixie from the inside, rummaging through her baggage taking up most of the small cabin's space.
"Umm," 99111 stops outside when faced with the blue unicorn's annoyed look. Smiley pokes the open door with its nose repeatedly.
"Fantastic…" Trixie facehoofs, "They're multiplying."
"Smiley called me here and I'm not particularly sure why. Is there anything we can help with?" asks 99111 hesitantly.
"Unless you know how to fix a door, Trixie doubts it," Trixie glares at Smiley who is softly bonking the door non-stop with its head.
99111 examines the damage, poking the wood from several angles.
"I mean, the door itself would be easy to reinforce, but that metal thingy looks too complicated for me. I saw a griffon at the workshop doing something with metal bits, so I would ask around there."
Trixie freezes.
"Say that again?"
"I mean, the door itself would be easy to reinforce, but that metal thingy looks too complicated for me. I saw a griffon at the workshop doing something with metal bits, so I would ask around there," repeats 99111, word by word.
Trixie's eye twitches, she opens her mouth, closes it, raises her hoof, and then lowers it back down.
"Workshop. With tools. Free to use," she says in the end.
"No one stopped me from going inside," 99111 shrugs, "And there was this nice zebra lady-"
"...if I could at least fix the lock, I'd be able to haggle down the damage cost no matter what and if, by some miracle, I could glue the door pieces together, then blending the color would be simple…" mumbles Trixie to herself, interrupting the drone, before fishing out a piece of chalk from one of her many boxes, standing up straight, and pointing at the two, "The Great and Powerful Trixie accepts your generous and, most importantly, free offer of assistance."
Smiley beams, walking over to her and licking the levitating piece of chalk.
"No!" Trixie draws it back, "Turn around!" Smiley keeps following the chalk floating around it, "Hey! Here!"
"Umm, Miss, we don't know how much Smiley really understands if someone talks to it," explains 99111, "I'll ask it to stop."
"Smiley, stop."
*Curious face!* *Curious face!*
Smiley keeps trying to lick the chalk.
"I'll ask the lady to show the floating white rock to you afterwards, okay?"
*Happy face!*
Smiley sits down.
"Smiley, you said?" asks Trixie.
"Yes, we call it that because-"
"There!" Trixie's floating chalk has successfully scribbled "SML" onto the side of the Silent's barrel, "And your name?"
"99111," the drone doesn't flinch when the piece of chalk floats over and writes the number on its side as well.
"Better than calling you the bigger one and the smaller one," Trixie withdraws the chalk, and Smiley sighs.
"Smiley said it would stop turning around if you let it check out the white drawy rock."
"The chalk? Yeah, sure, suit yourself," she throws it to Smiley's legs, "Just don't eat it. They might be a pack for a bit, but waste not want not," she walks over to the door and starts raising it off of its hinges using a mix of physical effort and telekinesis, "Hnnng! Stupid… door…" she grunts as the blue glow of her horn flickers and the muscles on her legs and back bulge.
99111 grows small hooks on its forelegs, with the help of which it's easy to raise the door.
"Good, now show Trixie to the workshop," she nods at 99111.
"Hey, Smiley!" 99111 mentally prods the Silent along with the words, "Come grab the door."
With a piece of chalk stuck in its leg hole, Smiley slides under the door now propped against the wall and loads it onto its back. To Trixie's surprise, the door is balancing perfectly on its back, completely covering the changeling, and not sliding off at all as Smiley walks out into the hallway.
"Trixie could certainly use more of you in her daily life," muses the unicorn while putting several unidentified black discs under the carpet past the door frame. When she catches 99111 trying to poke one barely visible bulge, she swats its hoof away and says quietly, "Don't touch it! If somepony walks in and tries to steal Trixie's stuff, they'll quickly regret it."
For the past fifteen minutes, increasingly confused 387 has been hearing faint music inside its head. It started out of nowhere while he was busy inconspicuously following Chrysalis, now swimming in the biggest pool of the ship being openly stared at by several stallion bodyguards belonging to the Las Pegasus delegation.
He takes a sip of his cold, unflavored soda to combat the sunlight.
Makes me wonder how hard they'd be staring if she didn't bloat her hips just to lure them in. On the other hole, if ponies weren't so horny, our lives would be so much more difficult.
The intrusive theme inside his head shifts into a jaunty tune of a leading fiddle mixed with modern string instruments, which prompts 387 to finally take action.
I like the music, but what in all holes is it doing in my head?
As an experiment, he hides his mental presence entirely and the music stops.
Okay, so someone wasting love by… broadcasting music through the hive mind? I swear, if I have to refill someone this early in the day I'm gonna slap a drone.
93 is currently… observing a card game inside? Looks like it's between a unicorn from Stalliongrad and some griffon.
10013 is… attending some sort of a lecture? Weird but okay.
20100… has so far earned 12 bits by drawing portraits of ponies? I'm sorry, what?!
36658 is helping some zebra mix potions. Go figure.
99111 is helping fix a door for that unicorn Smiley saved. Speaking of the Silent, it just drew a simple facsimile of a smiling face on a blackboard in the workshop with a piece of chalk it got holes know where. Hmmm, that gives me an idea.
99526- ah, that's where the music is coming from. Wait, no. It's nearby, but that's not it. 99526 is just…
387 looks back at the filling up deck spread behind him and locates the drone in question who is busy swabbing the floor near one of the many bars. 99526 catches him looking and waves.
"Hi, is there a problem?" it asks, "I got a sweet fizzy juice from the nice bartender and I can lick anything anyone spills or drops on the floor. All I gotta do is make sure it's clean around here afterwards."
"Just… just sniff anything that drops on the floor first in case it's unhealthy to changelings or something," 387 sighs, mentally counting off the minutes until someone inevitably tries to poison the drone.
"I sure will."
As the drone resumes mopping, 387 finally finds what's been looking for, which is 99380, sitting on the counter of said bar, humming and bobbing its head from side to side with the tune playing in 387's mind. Surprisingly, no one seems to mind.
The warrior checks the drone's love level and finds it absolutely satisfactory. Several brief memory checks later, he ascertains that it's not because the drone is being refilled but rather because the broadcasting isn't draining almost any of its resources. Drones aren't normally skilled at mental communication enough to do it without exhausting themselves, if overused.
"99380, why are you broadcasting the music?" he asks.
"Oh right, I was doing that," replies the drone and the music stops, "Miss 93 asked me to try it earlier and we ended up sitting here and listening to the talky box. Did you know that the Maretime Bay's sea crest festival will be hosting hippogriffs this year? I don't know what those are but the Fuzzy lady was really excited about it."
"387, I was listening to the radio," Chrysalis' annoyed voice interrupts the conversation, "Stop bothering the drone!"
387 gets forcefully booted out of 99380's head by the queen, and it takes about two minutes before the music begins effortlessly flowing through the hive mind again.
Minimal energy drain and it can't restart immediately. It's clear that 99380 isn't doing it entirely consciously, and 93 knows about it.
The warrior finishes his drink. It's going to be a long day, but so far nothing is on fire and that's the critical thing. If he remains vigilant, he's bound to eventually get some idea of what Chrysalis' plan is.
Instinct is a wonderful thing, but can also be a set of heavy shackles. For quite some time now, 93 has been strolling across the deck, unbothered by the rough estimate of three hundred guests enjoying the sunny day, looking for something which, as the queen ordered, she would find 'fun'. Exploring the depths of 99380's newly discovered broadcasting skill was interesting for a short while several hours ago, but it quickly became clear that the drone's mental ability was simplistic and… hard-wired, so spending more time on attempting to customize it would prove fruitless.
93 checks the status of all drones multiple times, and doesn't find anything that requires her involvement. Some of the images she draws from their minds are confusing, but their overall demeanor doesn't hint at anything problematic. Experimentally, 93 attempts to sneak into 387's mind and, as always, finds it slipping away, which means the warrior doesn't need her help either. She asked the queen before about how a warrior can resist her mental abilities, and the queen simply said that 387 and a couple others were special and to not worry about it.
So, here's the problem - 93 has nothing to do and, unlike the queen, she doesn't feel any particular need to attract the attention of hunky stallions from various delegations. Here, on the cruise ship filled with creatures from all corners of Equestria, with drinks and food of various cultures to at least taste, and with attractions meant to take one's mind off of troubles of daily life, she's bored and it's only her own fault.
No, bored isn't the correct word, although it works. There's no place for her here, no activity into which she could comfortably insert herself. The worst part is that she's the only one. A changeling, the being genetically forged to blend in, is the only one sticking out like a sore hoof.
Her lazy walking eventually brings her to a long line of ponies chatting with each other and waiting for something related to 20100 whose mind is pretty much overflowing with busy joy. Curious, she walks to the front of the queue to see what's going on, and stops when she spots 20100 sitting on a bar stool under which there's a small pile of gold, an easel and a canvas in front of it and a short paint brush creatively stuck in its leg hole so that it aims outwards as if lengthening the hoof. The drone itself is splattered with paint, not minding it whatsoever and excitedly painting away.
What's more interesting to 93, however, is the second changeling drone on a bar stool next to it, watching and occasionally pointing at 20100's painting with a suggestion or two:
"No no no no, you don't always gotta mix the paints. You can layer them over each other, so that from a distance it kinda blends but not really."
Clearly, this has been going on for a long time, and 20100 gives the brush to the other drone in response, hops off of the stool, and runs a short distance away. The second drone paints a few lines, 20100 gasps, slapping its forelegs over its mouth and probably not poisoning itself with paint, and gallops back to the easel.
"IT'S TWO COLORS BUT IT LOOKS LIKE ONE FROM OVER THERE AND HERE IT'S LIKE TWO LINES AND IT'S SO COOL!" 20100 hops up and down, yelling with excitement. That doesn't seem to bother anyone, and the ponies waiting in line are clearly used to the outbursts, "Heya, 93!" 20100 beams at her as she walks over to examine what's going on.
"You look like you're having fun," she comments.
"I'm painting ponies and getting shinies!" 20100 gestures at her to come have a look before pointing at the gold under its stool, "AND LOOK WHO'S HERE TOO!" it finally points at 65536.
"Hello!" 65536 waves and smiles at her, "I'm 65536."
"I'm 93," she blinks when she sees 20100's painting in its full glory. It depicts a unicorn mare currently waiting nearby, sipping on a drink, in a heroic pose she's definitely not holding at the moment. 93 looks again, comparing the real pony with the painting.
And sucking in her gut.
"Whoah! You're a super high rank," 65536 salutes.
"Easy, 65536," 93 looks at the drone, "We're all here to relax."
"All done. Miss!" 20100, after a quick shading of the painting's hooves, calls out to the mare who walks over, levitates up the painting, and trots off with it after tossing five coins onto the pile under 20100's stool.
93 steps in front of the canvas, and strikes a pose with a puffed out chest. Immediately, the next pony in line, an earth pony on the heavy side, huffs indignantly:
"Hey, hey, hey, changeling! No preferential treatment. You gotta wait in the line like everypony else!" before 93 can say anything, he pushes past her and points at 20100, "You, ten- five bits if you paint me holding a sword and standing on my back hooves! Low-angle side view. And add abs. Six pack- no, twelve pack."
"Sorry," 20100 shakes its head, "I can't add any stuff yet. I'll try to learn that soon, but for now I can only copy what I see. Just pull out your slashy and hold the pose for a moment, I'll have a good look, and then I'll get painting."
"Acceptable!" the chubby earth pony, who likely hasn't seen any sort of muscles even in a documentary, holds up a heavily decorated blade while trembling in an attempt to stay upright and epic as 20100 looks at him from various angles.
"Oookay, that's enough," 20100 jumps backwards as the pony slams down, gasping for air, sweating, and jiggling, "I'll get right on it," once it climbs back onto the borrowed bar stool, it looks at 93, "Sorry, did you need anything? We're kinda busy here."
"No, I was just curious," 93 shakes her head, "I'll leave you to it."
"Take a shiny if you want!" 20100 points to the pile of gold, "Did you know you can trade those for sweet cream that makes your noggin hurt, but in a good way? That, or a fizzy drink that comes out of your nose! Or a bunch of other things!"
The corner of 93's mouth curls up.
"No. You earned those bits. Do with them what you will," she heads off.
Night drapes its cool embrace over the cruise ship, and the drones answer 387's mental call, summoning them towards the front end of the ship where a stage is being set up for the light show. Faced with the warrior, the drones fan out with 10013 and Smiley in the middle and 36658 and 99111 decidedly as far away from each other as possible.
"Alright," begins 387, "Today's been pretty eventful and I've been trying to keep up with what's been happening but I had my own business to take care of. So, before the light show begins, let's polish off any remaining point additions or subtractions."
He counts off every drone one by one:
"10013 - decidedly neutral, I see. No love gained, no presence anywhere, and I see that 20100 refilled your love before we started. No points to allocate in either direction then. Was there anything useful about the lectures?"
"It was interesting, but I'm not sure how useful it would be for any of us," admits 10013, "I have a bunch of stories to tell the guys back home, at least."
"You never know when knowledge can turn into a weapon," 387 offers at least words of comfort while rummaging through the head of the next drone, "20100 - you earned… three hundred and sixty bits by painting artworks that would normally gain the artist a lifetime of wealth, security, and prestige. On one hole, I'm decidedly impressed. On the other, I can't help being pissed off about the wasted potential."
"If you want some shinies, you can have them," offers 20100, "We traded some of them for various things to eat or drink but eventually 99526 got sick. Oh, and one griffon lady said she'd show both of us some proper loving and a really good time for fifty, but I had to drag 99526 off because it was kinda… spewing at the time, so I told her that maybe later."
387 wipes his forehead in relief.
"You know what? Plus four points. One for not needing a refill, one for refilling others, one for the extra bits, and one for, umm, maintaining a good image by not buying a griffon… escort, and I'm being exceedingly polite here."
"So many points!" 20100 clamps its forelegs over its mouth.
"Next up - 36658, you were pretty quiet all day," 387 looks at the next drone in order.
"I was doing drugs all day!"
387 furrows his brows as he digs into the drone's head.
"I think you meant making dr- no… you didn't," the warrior frowns, "I'm not sure how I feel about you being some zebra's test subject."
"It was for a good cause," 36658 stares directly into his eyes with an expression of firm determination which genuinely surprises the warrior, "Feel free to check my head in detail. Miss Gem didn't abuse me or anything, if you're worried about that, and I'm completely full of love too."
"Hmm," 387 makes a mental note to spare some attention for the zebra chemist later, "I suppose that if you're healthy, don't need a refill, and didn't get into any trouble, plus you helped with medical research, you can get two points overall."
36658 only nods.
"99111, our little religious rebel," 387 snickers, "Spent most of the day exploring and then fixing a door. You managed to get a refill, which is plus one, so it's plus two overall for that and the help."
"I learned how bucking plywood door and stupid cheap shitty locks work," 99111 smiles happily, prompting 387's raised eyebrow. After a brief mind scan, the warrior says:
"I'll just clear things up and say that those are not the technical terms for those particular items, no matter what that blue scam artist said," the warrior mentally shares the barest details about pony swearing with 99111, none of which involves the word goop.
"GASP!" 99111's eyes go wide. One day, someone will explain the concept of onomatopoeia to the drones, but today is not the day and 387 isn't that someone, "She lied to me! I specifically asked about that because I didn't know what that meant. Grumblegrumblegrumble-"
"Aaand mystery solved," 387 leaves the pouting drone repeating 'grumble' with forelegs crossed on its chest, and moves on to the next, "99380, the queen wanted me to give you two points."
"YAAAY!" 99380 throws its forelegs into the air for a brief moment before going quiet and simply staring at 387 in case there's more to say.
"It seems she appreciated your radio broadcast. Unfortunately for you, you still needed refilling, so it's only the plus two."
"I made a changeling friend!" says 99380, "Its rank is 65536."
"The hero of soup!" 20100 salutes the empty air. 10013 and 36658 answer with the same gesture.
"Yup! I really liked that title," agrees 99380.
"99526," 387 speaks out again, and the drone watching ponies trot around the finished light show stage looks at him, "You're on zero. You didn't need a refill, but throwing up all over the place in front of creatures from all around Equestria was definitely a bad impression on us all, so overall it's plus one minus one."
"Ponies have so many delicious things…" 99526 mumbles, "But 20100 didn't bloat up as badly and it ate the same stuff I did."
"Sorry, buddy," 20100 frowns but pats the other drone's head, "Maybe something just didn't sit well with you. Think of it this way - you're probably closer to figuring out what your goop does!"
That gives 387 a pause.
"99526, did you notice any special feature of your secretions?"
"There was a lot!" replies the drone, "But no, nothing special. It was goop, it hardened quickly, it was green. Nothing anyone else can't do," it shrugs.
"No refill, huge increase in produced mass in contrast to intake," 387 taps his hoof on the floor, "You should do some more careful testing tomorrow as well. It could be that your specialty is producing in volume rather than adding some specific quality. Since 20100's offering, I suggest you use some of the bits it made."
"Can I get the brown sweets this time?" asks 99526.
"I have no idea what you're referring to but I assume so."
"Can we go see that griffon lady about that good time?"
"No."
"But the sweets cost only one shiny, and she offered a good time with her for fifty. How much better would that be-"
"NO!"
"Okay," 99526 shrugs. No point in arguing, orders are orders, "I'm just wondering what she meant."
"Don't! Look, the light show is starting," 387 points towards the stage where Trixie set up a spotlight aiming at the sky and is now testing if everything works, "Sit here until the end and enjoy it. Afterwards, I think you should return to your cabins and go to sleep. It would be good to adopt the pony night and day cycle while we're on this trip."
10013: 0
20100: 4
36658: 2
99111: 2
99380: 3
99526: 0
Smiley: :-) :-) :-) :-) :-)
"Can I get happy stickers like Smiley has?" asks 99380.
"No, and holes if I know how it did it. Either learn to manipulate the hive mind or stick to numbers," replies the warrior.
"Hnnngh-" 99380 grunts, closing its eyes.
99380: (^_^) (O_O) (X_x)
"-eep?! Go back! Go back!" the puzzled drone looks around, unsure what to think of anything, "387, help! My score is being weird."
387 smacks 99380's head, having had just enough drone interaction for the night.
99380: 3
"Phew! Thanks," 99380 lets out a sigh of relief.
Fully aware that the light show will in reality be starting in twenty minutes, the warrior leaves, knowing that the drones won't move and disobey the orders. He quickly locates Chrysalis and 93 on the mental map, the former is sitting in a hot tub being served champagne by a unicorn stallion and the latter…
…is in some glass-walled bar inside the ship, holding a hoofful of cards while sitting behind a table with two other stallions and a griffon. Judging by the small amount of colorful chips with 1 written on them on the table as well as multiple empty shot glasses, it must be a friendly game or a practice. 387 smirks to himself, uses every trick he learned over his exceedingly long life to cover his mental presence, transforms into a pegasus, and heads downstairs 93's way.
I didn't make any progress figuring out what Chrysalis' deal is, but we're not being chased around with torches and pitchforks, so that counts for something. This, though, looks like a good opportunity to measure how quick thinking this new top-ranked infiltrator is.
Finally, day two ends with one ancient warrior and one newborn infiltrator facing each other, but for the first time in generations, their battleground is just a card table.