They're... ON HOLIDAY?

by Nameless Narrator

Day 2 - Points: 4/9

“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.

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.

Happy face.

“What the holes?!”