//------------------------------// // 11: Onwards towards the first contact! // Story: An Exercise In Management // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// “Three, put those crayons away. We have to go.” Three’s ears twitch at hearing Eight’s firm but calm voice, and the drone pops all the colourful pencils and crayons from various leg holes he’s jammed them into for easier access. “The boss isn’t coming with us, miss Eight?” “He is, just not physically.” “He’s with us in spirit, I get it.” “No, he’s inside my head and can see what I can see.” “That’s so cool. Can I do that?” “No.” “Awww...” “Not that I wouldn’t want you around to have… company, but drones simply can’t.” “But the boss is a drone.” “...” ”I’m waiting for that one, Eight.” “He is not a drone anymore. He’s… grown up. Yeah, that.” “He has a mane just like you, only not as chewed off and missing in spots.” ”Snrk-!” “Oh shut up.” “Sorry, miss Eight.” “Not you, the King is distracting me. You can keep talking.” ”I wonder how long that permission’s gonna last.” “Thank you, miss. I was just saying your mane looked really nice.” “Nice. Chewed off and missing in spots is nice.” “Yes, all fluffy and you never know what bit doesn’t have hair. Walking around you and looking at your head is like a surprise party.” “...not sure whether to feel flattered or kill him...” ”He means well, which is shocking to say about a changeling.” “Anyway, Three. We should go. If we get to the station early, I can pretend I was checking up on the infiltrator without Truncheon’s colleague getting suspicious. Disguise yourself.” One more burst of green fire later, Three’s in his colt form,  and joins us- Eight in the body of the large earthpony stallion known as Truncheon. Together, we- they- we step out into the bright morning outside of the town known as- ”What’s this place called?” “...Wet Soil...” -of the swamp settlement known as Wet Soil. ”Really...?” “...earthpony town. They aren’t known for their imagination...” ”I can see that.” I shiver inwardly as Eight passes by a pegasus who doesn’t give her a second glance. In fact, he actively avoids her gaze for some reason. It’s unreal how different the world looks through somepony else’s eyes. Either Truncheon was in excellent physical shape, which he didn’t look like despite being a guardspony, or Eight kept some of her physical attributes through her transformation. That thought is even scarier, because with her every easy step, deep breath, sharp and clear look, I know how… absurdly weak, slow, and small I am. ”Eight, is it normal for ponies to be avoiding each other this much?” “...definitely not. I noticed it yesterday and I think our Truncheon isn’t exactly a popular pony...” ”I thought you knew everything about him.” “...why? No, how?  I’m not an infiltrator, digging inside somepony’s head not my speciality. I talked to him in the bar, asked him few more things again in the cellar, and gained some general info about him, but I can’t do much more...” ”Sorry. To me, you high-ranks have always been these godlike beings able to do literally anything you wanted to me.” “...I can let you do a lot of things to me...” ”Focuuuus, Eight.” “...or what, you won’t whip me till I scream?” ”It’s the other way around, I think.” “...heheh...” “It’s always surprising to see you up for work on time, not to mention early, Truncheon. Did I inhale too much swamp gas yesterday and I’m hallucinating?” A mature earthpony wearing a golden chain around his neck accompanied by a pegasus mare is the first one to talk to Eight, and his tone is clearly a mocking one. I feel a short bout of panic which is evenly split between me and Eight who nonetheless salutes. “With the creature in our cells, ehm, mister-” The earthpony taps meaningfully on his chain. Mayoral chain usually used in towns. ”Mayor.” “-Mayor, I thought it would be prudent to be around in case of any trouble.” Both the earthpony and his mare companion blink, speechless for some reason. The Mayor’s face, however, contorts in barely hidden contempt in the end anyway. “Don’t think this charade will save your sorry ass for long, Truncheon. I’ve had it with you-” The mare clears her throat, stopping the Mayor. “Dear, I hate to defend this good-for-nothing, but now is not the time. Perhaps our… guard is just rising to the occasion.” “What are you-” She jabs her hoof to the Mayor’s side, nodding to Three looking around, watching the few ponies awake this early. “-I see.” The Mayor’s wife, I guess, leans down to Three who gives her a bright smile. “Hello there, little guy. What’s your name?” “Pokey Stick, ma’am.” Eight pats Three’s head. “Ehm, he’s my… cousin, ma’am. I’m supposed to keep an eye on him while his parents are in Manehattan for some festival.” “How old are you, Pokey?” The drone/colt looks at his forelegs, shakes them several times, and looks back at the mare. “Eleven.” ”Don’t add ‘days’, please don’t say days.” “Working early, taking care of a family member. You should be careful, Truncheon, or somepony might think you’ve been replaced by a changeling yourself.” “Ha haha hahahaha...” Three hugs Eight’s foreleg, and pouts. “My cousin’s not a fly pony.” ”He… he’s not stupid, right? That was… THE perfect move right now.” The Mayor’s wife’s eyes go wide, before she opens her purse and rummages inside it. “You are ADORABLE! Do you want a lollipop?” “Nu-uh. It’s bad for my teeth, I need those sharp and bitey. Can I get a hug instead?” “OF COURSE YOU CAN!” She swipes Three into a bear hug, and I can see wisps of pink smoke draining from her into him. “I like this place, E- cousin. The ponies here are super nice.” “Haha, yeah. Now don’t be greedy and leave the friendly lady alone, Pokey.” The mare puts Three down on the ground, the ‘colt’ never stopping beaming. “My name is Pokey Stick because I have this really cool stick that glows.” “Shouldn’t you call yourself Glowstick then, little guy?” “You are a GENIUS, lady,” he pulls Eight’s leg, “Boss, boss, can I be Glowstick now?” “Uhhh, yeah, sure.” “He calls you ‘boss’?” “Haha, it’s a game we play, Mayor. I hate to cut this short, but we really need to go. I’m showing ‘Glowstick’ here the station today.” The Mayor narrows his eyes. “...I’m watching you, Truncheon. You slip up one more time and your sorry ass is out no matter how friendly your little cousin is with my wife...” “Understood, sir.” Eight salutes, which makes the Mayor’s eye twitch, and starts walking away. ”Ooooooooooof!” “...remind me to never tease Three about his rank again...” ”Do you think he did it… like… you know… like do you think that he planned it?” “...I have absolutely no freaking idea...” ”So… we call him Glowstick now?” “...I’ll call him my lord and saviour right now if he wants...” ”Glowstick it is.” “Hey, uhh, Glowstick.” “Yes, mis- Truncheon?” “Good job. I’ll get you something nice when I get some money.” “Can you goop over my stick so that it glows again?” ”The sad part is that this WASN’T an innuendo.” “...I don’t even know anymore...”