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?