//------------------------------// // Day 0 - Prologue: 1/3 // Story: They're... ON HOLIDAY? // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// The changeling invasion of Canterlot was a terrifying event, scarring ponies for a long time to come. However, in the end, kinder hearts prevailed over politics and power grabs, and a pathway to diplomacy between the two species eventually appeared despite rigorous opposition. An official peace treaty was signed roughly a year later, and changelings were allowed into pony cities without the fear of any official retribution. The unofficial but expected reactions of ponies varied from curious observation to straight up hostility. However, since most ponies had zero direct experience with changelings, the majority of cities eventually grew to regard them as any other newcomer as long as they didn’t cause trouble. Of course, wandering around in the open was only an avenue for the few changelings tasked by the queen with testing the waters. The good old shapeshifting was still the main method of getting around, but the added safety of not immediately facing torches and pitchforks in case they burned a little more love expected, making their disguise fail, made work so much easier for infiltrators.  As one would expect, an easier job for infiltrators meant more love for the hive overall and, as heartless as it would sound, the same went for the fact that the overall number of surviving changelings post-invasion stabilized around three hundred. Thanks to all that, it could be said that the changelings were thriving, even though their numbers were microscopic in contrast to the times before the invasion. At least the living ones weren’t starving anymore… or starving that much… or- The point is, things got better overall. In Canterlot itself it was different, obviously, due to ponies having a distinctly unpleasant set of extremely personal experiences. Technomagical devices made for detecting changelings were installed in all public buildings, changelings themselves weren’t allowed to shapeshift into ponies without permission, and any short-term changeling visitors had to declare their business at Royal Guard gate posts.  In short, while three years have passed since the changeling invasion of Canterlot so far, and despite things having improved dramatically, attitudes and relationships will doubtlessly take many more years to reach a level where a changeling and a pony can live side by side and, as friends, hate all those damn immigrant diamond dogs. As for how things are now back home in the Badlands hive… *** The machine gun thudding of tiny hooves on a rocky floor echoes through a pitch-black tunnel deep underground. Five changeling drones are pumping their legs as fast as they can while being pursued by something completely hidden in darkness behind them. The only thing any surface dweller would see here would be five pairs of rapidly approaching, glowing, teal eyes. “Is this normal? I hatched last week,” asks 99782 via a hive link, its mouth busy gasping for breath. “WHERE ARE ALL THESE PINCERY SKITTERERS ARE COMING FROM?!” screams 78821 out loud. “WE WERE JUST DIGGING THROUGH THIS TUNNEL LAST MONTH AND IT WAS CLEAR!” adds 86995 in the back. “Not normal. Got it. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 99782 joins in the loud yelling. “AAAAAAAH!” “Do you think that the yelling is just making them follow us?” 78821 ponders the situation. “THAT’S THE POINT!” calls out the drone in the lead - 10013. “Wait, really?” “YUP, NOW START YELLING!”  “Aaaaaah!” “LOUDER!” “AAAAAAAAAH!” “GOOD JOB!” “AAAAAAA -yay!- AAAAAA!” Despite the nonexistent explanation, the final drone of the bunch, the biggest one, is completely silent, both orally and mentally, but it doesn’t seem to bother anyone so it must be okay.  The mental communication, in contrast to the panicked screaming, flowing through the hive links of changelings in the vicinity is, if not calm, then at least somewhat organized. “Tunnel x5–4d75. We need the Angry Shiny here! Who has the Angry Shiny?” calls out 10013. “What’s going on?” asks 2033, a warrior currently stationed in the underground sector in trouble. “NEED ANGRY SHINY!” “What’s the target?” “Pincery skitterers!” “What the holes is a pincery skit-” “Gots pincers! Skitters!” “ASTONISHINGLY HELPFUL! How many are there?” “ALLOFTHEM!” “Why would I ever think a damn drone would make sense…?” 2033 mumbles and rolls his eyes before replying, “I’m on the way. Meet me at the T-section with x5–4dsa3. I’ll be there in 34 seconds.” “41 seconds on our end,” replies 10013. As the warrior gallops to the correct tunnel, he can hear the screams echo way before he reaches the T-section. Once he’s there, he has 7 seconds to fiddle with a strange device on his back which looks like a cylinder connected to a complex nozzle via a metallic hose. Wrong. He barely has the time to aim the nozzle glued with goop to his foreleg into the center of the tunnel as the drones round the gentle bend obscuring them. “YOU’RE TWO SECONDS EARLY, DIMWITS! TWO WHOLE SECONDS!” “WOOO! WE’RE GETTING BETTER AT RUNNING!” “PUMPING MY LEGGOS AS HARD AS I CAN!” “BURNING SOME LOVE SO THAT I DON’T GET ALL FAT AND STUCK SOMEWHERE!” *SCARED DRONE FACE!* “No, you damn idiots! I need time to get this thing set uuuu- WHATINALLQUEEN’SHOLESISTHAT!?” Faced with the somehow almost silent tsunami of giant crabs, each easily over third the size of a drone, completely covering the rough walls as well as the ceiling of the tunnel, 2033 doesn’t wait for anything, and bends his fetlock to push the responsive handle just as his eyes turn from bright teal to smoky grey. It doesn’t matter to him at all that one drone is lagging behind the group. Screw you, drones. Learn to time things correctly! Sudden blinding light and blistering heat blasting out of the nozzle is followed by immediate high-pitched screeching and the heavy stench of burning flesh. Without the time to stabilize himself due to the mis-timing of drones, the pressurized payload makes 2033’s foreleg sway and lose precision. “Smiley, cover us!” orders 10013, and the biggest drone stops a short distance behind the 2033, its eyes scanning the area for any pincery skitterers that might pass by the warrior. Thankfully, due to the nature of the narrow tunnel, any crab that passes by him is already mostly cooked, so all Smiley has to do is kick it back into the fire. Less fortunately, whatever the changelings are using as fuel for the Angry Shiny is extremely sticky and flammable, and despite changeling chitin having decent heat insulation properties the slowest drone is halfway covered in flames, rolling on the ground without any luck as the flames keep spreading. 10013 mentally pings the two trembling drones standing by his side, both just staring at their kin being slowly consumed by fire. “You two, shake me as hard as you can!” They exchange glances as he sits down next to the rolling drone. “Got it, shake 10013 like a can!” “What’s a can?” “The opposite of can’t. That means you can shake it and not can’t.” “Ooooh, you veterans are so smart!” They grab one of 10013’s shoulders each and go at it. 10013 burps. 10013 purses its lips. 10013 starts spraying green foam from its mouth at the burning drone, aiming its head with both its forelegs, and covering the target’s burning parts from front to back.  Contrary to the usual trait of anything goo-related immediately exploding or corroding things, this seems to actually douse the flames for once. “Whhougheuheemm…” 10013 sways from side to side when the pressurized throwing up stops, shaken from both the chase and being quite literally shaken. “...ow ow ow ow ow ow…” the half-cooked drone quietly weeps, unmoving so that the goo-foam can settle and harden around its body. Smiley punts the last burning crab back into 2033’s inferno and, shortly after, the warrior turns the Angry Shiny off, letting the heavy black smoke replace the bright flames. “Let’s move somewhere breathable,” orders 2033 as he walks over to the half-cocooned drone, “What about 86995? Will it live or can I-” “99782, help 78821 load 86995 up and get it to High Score. Smiley, 99782, and I will continue our tasks,” 10013 gives 2033 a nervous smile, stepping between him and the wounded drone, “Is that okay? No need to eat anyone, it’s just some burns. Give it two or three sleepy times and it’ll be okay.” “We’ll see about that once I report this incident,” 2033 frowns, “Wrong timing, risking precious equipment, and endangering a ranked warrior. I’d sort this out myself, but… new rules are new rules.” 10013 knows full well what “sorting this out” would mean before the new rules agreed on by the queen and 387. How a warrior like 387 managed to persuade the queen herself to change her attitude towards drones was a mystery to everyone, but since the first rule was “No drones being eaten for love or killed for fun unless agreed on by multiple high ranks responsible for their hive sector.” there was exactly zero questioning any part of it. Permission to leave granted, 78821 rushes off with 86995 on its back while 10013, Smiley, 99782, and 2003 stop several air vents away where the black smoke doesn’t reach anymore. The warrior grows claws on his foreleg, grabs 10013 by its neck, and slams it against the wall. “Okay, you absolute twats. In case you DON’T get shoved into the crusher for this - learn to holes-freaking-dammit at least DESCRIBE THE THREATS PROPERLY!” The remaining two changelings only watch, fully knowing that whatever happens next isn’t in their hooves. “I did say pincery skitterers, didn’t I?” 10013 just hangs there. Choking a changeling isn’t really a thing without breaking their carapace, and the warrior has been careful not to harm the drone so far, “If I didn’t then I’m sorry. I thought I did, but I might have panicked and-” 2033 lets the drone drop on the ground. “Those were underground flesheater crabs. Not ‘pincer whatevers’, you idiots. If at least ONE of you identified them properly then this thing wouldn’t be broken!” he shows 10013 the twisted handle which didn’t survive the combination of heat and having to be moved around without proper stabilization. “But… why?” 10013 gives 2033 a puzzled look, “Underground is redundant, we’re all down here anyway. Flesheater isn’t accurate, they eat chitin too. And what’s that crap thingy anyway? They have pincers, they skitter. That means you know their method of attack as well as movement. Makes perfect sense.” 2033’s eye twitches. “WE USED TO EAT YOU DRONES FOR MUCH LESS THAN THIS!” “We know. We’re delicious,” 10013 sighs, nodding. 2033 turns around and just breathes heavily. 10013 looks to the other two drones to see how they’re doing. 99782 is just sitting by the wall, trying to somehow meld with the jagged rocks while Smiley is… …nibbling on its foreleg with a mix of curiosity and determination. “We’re not delicious to ourselves, dummy,” 10013 flicks Smiley’s nose which makes it stop, “Only to everything else.” Hearing that, 2033 just groans.