“As if High Score the Shiny-bringer would ever make a mistake like that!”
36658’s insulted reply coupled with its defiant stare at 1988 makes 8622 step towards it, towering over the drone with fangs bared.
“Ummm… 99- High Score?” it dawns on 36658 that it just made a mistake which drones make only once, no exceptions.
“1988?” 9999 speaks up in an unsteady voice, “Can I explain-?”
“8622, prepare tonight’s patrol schedule,” orders 1988 and immediately hooks a jagged protrusion on the back of his foreleg into 9999’s own leg hole and starts striding away, pulling the skittering drone trying its best not to fall along.
Since it’s early evening, the camp ponies are still busy, either with finishing off their logging quota or preparing the central area for the nightly bonfire. Thanks to that, 1988 can drag 9999 to the back of the camp with the now mostly empty shipping containers, and with a flick of his fetlock unhook the drone’s leg from his own and toss it on the ground.
“You idiot!” he hisses, “Did you forget that 36658 mouthing off like that would be a reason to execute all of you and leave only the Silents?! If 156 was here, we wouldn’t even be talking right now!”
“I’m sorry!” pleads 9999, slowly picking itself up, “Please, don’t hurt them. They got a little carried away, that’s all. It was my fault for showing them the bug zapper in the first place.”
“Elaborate.”
“El- uhh?” 9999’s head isn’t working properly under the sudden pressure.
“Explain.”
9999 takes a deep breath to put together the only chance of defending itself.
“I needed everyone to stay in one place, right? But I’m not a high rank so I can’t just order them something, and 9013 was completely out of it. I recalled how I acted when I saw the bug zapper so I asked Sawtooth if I could borrow one. He said yes, and I hung it on a branch in the north part of the camp so that the ‘religious’ group wouldn’t run off or mess around. The Silents and about half of us drones under 13415 were supposed to guard 9013 and the cocoons. Several hours later, I turned the zapper off and swapped the groups.”
“That still doesn’t explain the kneeling and worshipping. You’re not the queen!”
“I told them about your religion idea and they came up with this! 33125 joked that I was relaying the words of The Great Shiny Ball who in turn spoke through you, and that’s why I could control the ‘small shiny’.”
1988 stares, jaw slowly dropping.
“...there’s just a button near the bottom...” he whispers.
“Well… a few were curious but I just turned it on whenever they wanted to examine it. Then I remembered you told me that religion usually punishes those who ask questions and want to know how things really work, so I told them that anyone trying to examine the shiny wouldn’t get a turn anymore.”
“Wouldn’t it be ‘anyone caught’ trying to examine the zapper?”
9999 tilts its head.
“That would just make them try to be more sneaky about it. I know us drones.”
“Are you sure you’re not an infiltrator in disguise?” asks 1988, shaking his head, and as he does it he hears a series of gasps. A look around reveals nothing.
“Thank holes, no,” 9999 shakes its head, “I’m still wobbly from the warrior eye transformation you taught me-”
More gasps.
“...9999candoawarriortransformation?!”
“...it’sHighScoreyouheretic…!”
“...it’sadronelikeus...”
“...that’sexactlywhatahereticwouldsay...”
This time, 1988 turns his head in time to see a totem of drone heads peeking from around a corner of the cargo container, looking up and down on each other and whispering.
“A-hem!” the infiltrator clears his throat.
“Eep!” the drone heads retract behind the corner, followed by the noise of panicking changelings tumbling on the ground, picking themselves up, and fleeing as quickly as their stubby legs allow.
1988 sighs.
“We’re never getting rid of the High Score the Shiny-bringer myth now, are we?”
“I can try to talk-”
“No,” 1988 shakes his head, “Just make sure they obey like they should. Telling them that you persuaded me to let 36658 live could give you some more gravitas. However, next time one of them mouths off to me or the warriors, we’re eating it.”
“Thank you...” 9999 lets out a breath of relief.
“Look,” 1988 leans down to 9999’s ear and whispers, “You’re not supposed to be in charge of anything, drone, but the same goes for me. I’m one of the lowest ranked infiltrators in the hive. UNFORTUNATELY, it’s actually possible that we are the hive now and that no one else is alive. We don’t know why the queen left or where she is now, we don’t know what happened to 156’s group. We need to make sure no ponies or other threat wipes us out completely, and among those threats I count our own stupidity, understood?”
9999 nods.
“Good,” 1988 continues, “Now, we’re running dangerously low on love and the cocoons are at their limit. I need to be the one planning for the future, and the warriors are keeping an eye on things. This is a small camp, so I’m guessing that everyone knows everyone, which means we can’t just replace a pony. I think we might have to, at least temporarily, rely on you drones for love.”
“Whuh?” 9999 blinks.
“Interact with ponies and try to earn their affection. If I and the warriors figure out a way in which we can insert ourselves into the interpersonal dealings of the camp ponies and drain real love or lust, we’ll work on a proper refill. For now, you need to help all of us at least sustain ourselves.”
“Ok- okay,” 9999 stutters. What is a drone being asked to do something that’s clearly an infiltrator job supposed to do?
Seeing 9999 bite its lip nervously, 1988 offers a hint.
“There seems to be a lot of physical labor to do around here. Ponies might be grateful for some help, especially now that Uproot is still resting after the minor heart attack.”
“Wow, that’s a great idea!” 9999 blinks. This didn’t even occur to it, “See? That’s why you’re the infiltrator.”
1988 rolls his eyes.
“No plot kissing will save you if you don’t get results.”
“I meant it-”
Its statement is interrupted by 8622 stomping from around the corner right towards 1988 and whispering:
“The pegasus security guard just left the camp and is heading north. He could be carrying a message about the monsters but also about us. Even if this Stalliongrad might be a small city, they’re bound to have heard about Canterlot by now.”
It’s so much worse. Stalliongrad is the de-facto capital city of northern Equestria.
“We have to stop the message,” 1988 whispers back, “But we can’t do it close to the camp,” he grits his teeth and looks at 9999, “I’ve got an idea but I’m going to need you, 8622, with me. 9999, you’re in charge again until we come back. Tracking a flying guard at night is going to be a pain, especially if the monsters appear again, but we can’t afford him coming back with a newspaper or not coming back at all, and if he doesn’t show up to meet his contact, that’ll be even worse. Don’t mess up!”
“I-” before 9999 can even reply, the infiltrator and warrior duo are already sneaking north, keeping out of sight by hiding between the shipping containers.
“Nevermind, I’ll figure something out,” the drone sighs to itself.
Several minutes later, 9999 steps into the dim clearing on the south edge of the camp. Being greeted only by three pairs of eyes belonging to the sitting Silents would be disheartening to someone responsible for keeping 10 other drones whose whereabouts are unknown out of trouble, but 9999 knows its companions.
“Umm, guys,” it raises its voice, “No one’s getting eaten.”
One by one, 10 heads, each with a pair of glowing teal eyes, peek out from various places - a small grassy bank here, an overturned tree stump there, two nervously looking down from a low-hanging tree branch covered in leaves, and more. They’re all there.
“I mean it,” 9999 adds, “Just no more mouthing off to higher ranks, okay? The fact that things don’t seem exactly the same as they were back home doesn’t mean that we don’t have to listen to them. We’re still alone and in danger, and we have to work together to avoid starving and pitchforks. And, due to some unexpected problems, the task of gathering love is on us.”
A moment of buzzing, whispering of grass, and cracking of branches later, all 10 drones are sitting around 9999, all quiet, all eyes locked on it.
“So,” 9999 tries to fill the silence, “I haven’t exactly figured out how we do that yet but these ponies seem to be doing a lot of pulling logs and carts. We might be half their size but we can do that easily, so that could be a good way to start,” it points at the Silents who return the gesture with their patented eternally patient and somewhat creepy empty stare, “You three are going to stay here and help 9013 with anything he might want. That, and make sure no one finds the cocoons- yes?” 9999 notices a raised hoof from 91887.
“Umm, if we gather some love, do we get to keep it?”
“You get to keep some of it. It’s like back home but this time we’re the infiltrators, which also means that we get a ONE-TIME second chance if we mouth off to a high rank in front of ANOTHER high rank, isn’t that right, 36658?”
The bark-chewer in questions shuffles a little behind the drone next to it when met with 9999’s fiery glare.
“So… no more of them having us race Badlands scorpions?” asks another one.
“Only if you want to.”
“Can we trade love?”
“No,” 9999 shakes its head resolutely.
“But I found a button! It’s blue. It even has a bit of string still attached.”
“We will ration love in portions that make sure it lasts us as long as possible and that no one starves. No trading!”
“Awww, but I wanted that button!” replies a different drone, “And I found a wire thingy to trade for it!”
“You can trade things you find, just not love,” 9999 explains patiently. There are times where being accurate is critical, “Speaking of which, where did either of you find that stuff? That doesn’t seem like something that would just lie around in the forest.”
“Uhh, the button fell off of some cloth thingy one of the mares was dipping in water- hey, don’t look at me like that, I only took it after she left!”
“Return it,” says 9999.
“Whaaaaaat?”
“I said to return it. The pony in question might be grateful, and you could get some affection. If they don’t want it, you can keep it. ONLY if they don’t want it anymore. 54331, what about your wire whatever?”
“...I’ll go ask the ponies if they still want it...” grumbles the drone.
“Tomorrow,” adds 9999, “You’re all getting a good night’s sleep tonight. Silents will take the watches until 1988 gets back. First thing in the morning, you’re figuring out how to help the camp ponies in their lives,” it pauses for a moment and smirks to itself as an idea creeps to its mind, “And those who do best will get to spend time with the shiny.”
The drones exchange glances and gasp.
“I’d get resting if I were you then.”
9999 can’t help smiling as the other drones rush off in a disorganized scuttle, each finding a hole, a nice patch of grass, or simply just another drone to sleep on.
***
In the morning, the only drone who didn’t get much sleep is 9999 itself. It tried to calm down by telling itself that it’s only for a while, that they’re not in any immediate danger, and that it can make sure none of them get hurt or worse, but it didn’t help. The thoughts of the others running off and getting eaten by the monsters, the ponies finding the slowly dissolving cocoons and recognizing other ponies inside, the possibility of 1988 not coming back at all… all that kept rushing through its head and preventing it from sleeping for long before the nightmares won again.
Bleary-eyed, it stops trying to get a proper rest when it hears the first signs of ponies waking up and walking around. A quick look around reveals that, despite the night worries, everything is as 9999 left it last night.
Quietly, it stands up, yawns, and starts shuffling towards the pony camp when the Silent currently on watch walks over and, without any visible change of expression, nuzzles 9999’s neck. The drone blinks in surprise but smiles at the blank-faced Silent, pats its head, and resumes walking.
With nothing better to do, it sits down by the locked door of the main office building and waits, resisting the urge to slink away under the occasional stares of the ponies gathering for breakfast. Eventually, Hacksmith notices 9999 and walks over.
“Hi,” the big earth pony greets it, “Are you waiting for something, uhh, which one are you? Sorry, you all look almost the same to me.”
“It’s me, 9999,” replies the drone, “I wanted to ask Sawtooth if there’s any way we could help but he’s not in.”
Hacksmith smiles.
“You’d be waiting for a while then. That lazy paper pusher gets to sleep in.”
“Oh...” 9999’s ears droop.
“Buuut as far as helping goes, don’t worry about that. We don’t mind you just chilling around and doing your pilgrimage stuff. It’s not like you’re eating our supplies or anything,” Hacksmith shrugs.
“I- no, that’s not it. We, uhh, it’s kinda our… mission to be helpful and to work. 1988, 8622, and 9013 are busy and most of us drones have nothing much to do other than… pray, but-” clearly, 9999 is not a great spinner of lies, but an idea comes nonetheless, “our religion says that if we can help and work, we must. Is there any way we can help?”
“I don’t know, you’re kinda small and most of the things we do take some serious strength unless it’s the paperwork.”
“Oh, is that all?” 9999 tilts its head, “We drones can carry pretty heavy stuff. It’s what we do most of the time - dig and carry. Look!” 9999 scuttles under the surprised Hacksmith, “Lie down, don’t worry.”
“I’m not sure-”
“Please?”
“Oh fine, but I’m really heav-” he stops as, in the middle of lowering himself down, the drone simply stands up in all fours, lifts him with ease, and starts walking forward, “Oookay, that’s impressive, but I’m not letting you drag my legs on the ground,” he stands up again.
“See?”
“Alright, I’ll give you a shot. With Uproot still resting and everything that happened, my site is lagging behind a lot. I’ll down some breakfast and come pick you up.”
“Not me, I’ve got to keep an eye on things for now, but I’ve got 2 drones who can help.”
Hacksmith shrugs.
“If they won’t mess around and listen to what I say, it’s fine with me.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll do what they’re told.”
***
At noon, Hacksmith sits down, puts a box with today’s lunch on the stump of the freshly felled birch tree, and opens it. The delicious smell of steamed vegetables and rice wafts through the logging site, quickly drawing the attention of the two drones assigned to help him. It’s a little unsettling that, so far, he found no way to tell the two physically apart. Hay, if he tried to tell them apart from 9999, he’s sure he would fail. Still, from 9999’s description he thought the drone was overselling his helpers a bit but it turned out to be the exact opposite - they were much harder workers than that.
If only they weren’t so… weird.
“Do you guys… normally eat bark?” asks the earth pony.
“To understand the bark, one must become one with the bark,” says 36658, spitting out chewed up pieces of birch.
57999 nods vigorously. It clearly wants to say something but… you know… bark in its mouth.
“Yeees, but why?” asks Hacksmith just to have some conversation during lunch.
“We can make goop out of it and it makes my fetlock hurt less- ow!” says 57999, finally managing to spit the chunk of wood in its mouth out and being rudely stopped by 36658 smacking the back of its head.
“What was that for?” asks Hacksmith.
“Nothing!” says 36658.
“Wait, did you get hurt? I doubt 9999 will be happy that I got you hurt or something,” Hacksmith stands up and reaches towards 57999 who shuffles backwards.
“Please, don’t tell anyone I said anything about being hurt.”
Why do they look terrified all of a sudden?
“Alright,” he raises his hoof, “I solemnly promise I won’t tell anypony or any whatever-creature-you-are that you got hurt, but only if you tell me what the problem is, okay?”
The drones exchange glances and a few hushed whispers.
“...supposed to be helpful...”
“...he seems nice...”
“...it’s the pony who helped High Score save 1988...”
“Alright,” says 36658 warily, “I chew bark because it makes my belly hurt less. I used to eat it to make my headache go away but it made me sick so 387 punched me to make me throw up and told me to chew it instead. It helped but 387 was strong as a warrior and the punching made my belly hurt too...”
“Mind if I check you two out after lunch? I know my fair share of first aid, everypony in this line of business does.”
“Umm, okay?” agrees 36658 after a moment of hesitation.
Hacksmith finishes his meal. It’s not as if it’s healthy to do physical work right after eating, so he has the time to examine 36658.
“So, show me where it hurts.”
36658 taps its head right under its stubby horn.
“Hmm, I’m not seeing anything. Some scratches at worst,” replies the earth pony.
“Yeeeah, 387 said it was because I wasn’t really made to think but that it would eventually get better. A lot of us had this problem.”
“Yup!” 57999 nods.
“That… makes no sense,” Hacksmith shakes his head.
“You ponies probably got it different,” 36658 shrugs.
Hacksmith decides not to pry for now. Maybe he could ask 9999 or 1988 about it later.
“And the belly pain?” he asks instead.
36658 sits on its haunches and shows the underside of its barrel.
“This can’t be good...” Hacksmith’s jaw drops. The carapace is covered with a web of deep cracks filled with globs of green goo and broken off shards of the carapace, “Is that your… blood or something?” he carefully touches the smeared mess.
“No no,” 36658 shakes its head, “We drones usually just goop over wounds so that no mess can get in. I figured out that if I eat and dissolve some bark, sometimes the goop makes it hurt less. Dunno why...”
“It really does!” 57999 nods its head, turning around and showing Hacksmith its right hind leg, “Walking got so much easier once 36658 started helping me. I think it’s got something to do with the zebra trees.”
This one, though, makes Hacksmith gag.
The fetlock is partially twisted and broken so much it must be holding together only thanks to the goo. If a pony was hurt this bad, they would be screaming with every step, not patiently working on de-branching trees and pulling logs around since the morning.
“Guys, I can’t let you work like this-”
“What? Are we too slow? Did we mess something up?” 57999 gives him a completely confused look.
“We can do better!” adds 36658, “We’re just learning how you ponies do things.”
“No, none of that!” Hacksmith stops his hoof, “You’re badly hurt. If you keep working, it’ll only get worse. You’re going to sit down and rest for the day. You’ve helped me plenty already.”
“Nuh uh!” both drones pout as one, but 36658 is the one to talk, “9999 told us to help you ponies and that’s what we’re going to do. After all, 9999 let us rest all night for this, no watch schedule or anything!”
“Yeah!” 57999 joins in, “I had a dream about digging a new tunnel, it was full of shiny stones and there were no skulking chompers at all. It was awesome!” its sudden wide grin fades a little, “I think I might have kicked you in sleep, sorry.”
“Eh, no biggie,” 36658 waves it off before turning back to Hacksmith and stating, “We work.”
“Fine, I’ll find something easier for you to do- no complaining!” Hacksmith frowns at them opening their mouths.
They shut them… and simply wait.
“Speaking of which,” he speaks up after a while, as he’s resting with a drink, “I worked with a zebra shaman on the last gig. She used to brew potions specifically from birch bark which worked as a minor anesthesia and a muscle relaxant. We used to add them to our drinks in the evening to get a better sleep. I’ll ask our doctor if he can fix something up for you. Don’t worry, I won’t tell him everything.”
“Makes sense that a zebra would know everything about zebra trees,” 36658 nods wisely.
Hacksmith just rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth curling up.
Hmmm… why are they so worried about anyone finding out?
***
It’s evening.
Everyone is still alive.
9999 breathes out a sigh of relief as it looks over all the drones gathered in front of him, the Silents standing around the clearing, and sleeping 9013.
“So, how did it go today?”
“I returned the button! The mare was happy about it and gave me a hard paper thingy!” a drone waves its foreleg in the air, one of its holes containing a cardboard thread spool.
“Nice, you can keep it or trade it.”
“Woohoo!”
Spurred by the success, other drones open their mouths.
“They told me it was broken and that I could keep it!” a drone waves the piece of a chain-link fence.
“Oh you lucky bastard!” gasps a drone next to it.
“We’ve got healing goop!” 36658 and 57999 exchange glances and wide smiles, “We even got a bag for bark because we did such a good job!” 36658 pats a small cloth pouch on a string around its neck, “Like real healing, much better than usual.”
“Trade you for a wire thingy?”
“No,” says 9999 firmly.
“But you said we only couldn’t trade love-”
“I know,” 9999 lowers its voice, “but this is important.”
The drones’ eyes go wide as they all lean closer as one.
“Does that healing goop really work better than our normal one?”
“Uh huh! Hacksmith told us that zebra trees have anti-esthetics properties. That means they make you relax and stuff hurts less.”
“36658, you have won an evening with the shiny,” says 9999 immediately.
“Yay!” 36658 and 57999 hoof bump as the other drones cheer quietly. The cheering gradually turns into a chorus of “I’ll get shiny next time, you’ll see!” or a disappointed “Awww...” from 57999 but there’s no malice in it.
“I didn’t say it was the only one,” says 9999 which makes everyone go quiet and hang on its every word again, “So, did anyone else manage to do something helpful or get love?”
“Heheheh!” 13415 grins and pulls a rolled piece of paper out of its leg hole, “I got a picture of the woooorld!” it rolls the paper out for 9999 to examine, “I asked Sawtooth if he had something that says where we were and he had a whole book of these!”
“Hole-y...” It’s a map of northern Equestria. In a changeling fashion, it’s a perfect 1:1 copy in scale. 1988 will be ecstatic once he comes back, “Another shiny winner.”
“Heh heh heh,” chuckles 13415, “Liquid blue wibble light, here I come.”
“Anyone else?”
The other drones slowly exchange glances and shake their heads.
“Alright then. Since we’re starting slow, button and wire thingy here get to go as well. The rest of you go with 57999 who gets the shiny tomorrow. It’s not joining the other winners tonight because it will be taking care of all the wounds you show to it. Then you’re going to rest. I know I’m throwing around a lot of orders right now, but we don’t have love for any proper healing, so every little bit helps. Tomorrow is a new day and a new chance for the shiny.”
All drones exchange narrow-eyed glances with the same and crystal-clear meaning:
“I’m going to come up with something so amazing that you scrubs can’t even comprehend and then the shiny time will be mine, ALL MINE! Well, mine and everyone who’s done a good job.”
However, they’re all still drones, which means they’re tight companions in a world that’s decidedly hostile and dangerous to them most of the time. That’s why the second message in their competitive glance is:
“I hope the goop thing works and you all feel a lot better tomorrow, shiny or not.”