A gasp for air.
A critical mistake.
Pain shooting through everything.
Nerves lighting up from the spine all over the body.
10013 opens its eyes.
It’s lying on something soft. To a drone that means - not a rock.
The situation doesn’t make sense, so it tries to sit up.
“...owww…” an inaudible grunt comes out of its parched mouth as its body barely moves.
It adjusts its expectations for an attempt number two, and just tries to turn to the side, which ends up with more success but also additional red-hot needles covered in extremely angry lightning cacti shooting through its body.
Through blurred vision, it can see something dark and… familiar? It blinks.
Another drone smiling at it. It tried to blink the haze away again.
“...”
Impossible.
There are very few distinguishing features between healthy drones but that only means some stand out immediately, and 10013 realizes it’s looking at 9999 smiling at it.
Buddy?
The smile remains as 10013’s eyes tear up but its body still isn’t listening. However, the tears wash away whatever crust was obscuring 10013’s vision and it realizes it’s looking at a picture painted on some kind of plastic mold with bits pushed out for a three-dimensional effect. Excellent likeness.
The picture is propped against a lamp screwed into a small bedside table. Correction - netside table.
10013 realizes that its support is swaying from side to side.
It’s shippy time again.
Was it all just a nightmare?
The pain shooting through its body as it tries to sit up again has something to say about that silly idea.
The two hammocks above 10013 are empty but there’s someone sleeping in the bottom one on the other side of the room- cabin. With no ability to speak or move, 10013 closes its eyes and, slowly, its mind lights up with familiar hive links.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Five?
“...no…” croaks 10013, growing terror finally forcing its body to move despite the agony, and it pushes itself off of the hammock and onto the carpeted floor. Even the light impact lights up every nerve in its body and makes it pass out again.
Only briefly, though, as its internal clock tells it when it wakes up again.
This time, it stands up and painfully slowly limps over to the other drone in the cabin. It’s 99380, its link barely active and unresponsive when 10013 tries to mentally reach out.
“36658!” 10013 screams mentally, reaching only one other nearby link which shivers.
What did 36658 do?! I was supposed to stay down there! I can’t lose another one!
Why was everything so much easier for the few seconds when it thought it was the one dead? Why is it immediately so much worse when it is alive and 36658 is gone?
The link responsible for all this is the other one within reach, though.
SMILEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
Foaming at the mouth with sudden fury, 10013 follows the link into the cabin’s bathroom. As it reaches for the handle, it sees that its foreleg is entirely held together with bandages covered with brown and green stains, but none of it matters due to the red haze descending on the drone.
It pulls the door open, ready to scream and maybe… just maybe… do something worse.
The small bathroom’s walls are covered in writing, all different but stating the same thought:
[Dum. Usles. Food. Stupd. Nofren.]
The writing isn’t in chalk, at least not entirely. Not white but dark brown. Smiley is lying motionless in a shower corner, the same dark brown smear on the wall above it. It doesn’t move as 10013 approaches.
“Get up!” the drone leader steadies its voice into a growl, and the Silent obeys, staring blankly at it and confirming that the blood added to the goop chalk is from its broken nose.
10013 raises its foreleg with a scowl, hoof glowing green.
Your fault! All your fault! 387 was right.
10013 breathes out and the foreleg descends.
Slowly, without the digging glow, and wraps around the back of Smiley’s barrel, pulling it into a hug.
Only then does Smiley react with a quiet sigh.
“This is an angry hug,” says 10013, each word slow and measured, all both an accusation as well as self-reflection, “But what’s done is done. Drones stick together. It is your fault, but not only yours. I agreed to 10101’s deal. We got a lot out of it. I made a choice to save you and… 36658 made a choice to somehow save me.”
Smiley slowly raises its hoof and 10013 follows it pointing at one of the many poorly spelled insults scrawled on the walls.
“I will show you how to make another slate, but you will be the one to make it. No one will hold your hoof anymore. You will learn quickly… or not, your choice. I will sacrifice no one else for you until you earn it. That’s how it’s going to be, whether you understand me or not.”
Smiley lowers the hoof again and returns the hug. 10013, however, senses a pull from the Silent’s hive link and, even as angry as it is, it can’t stop its curiosity.
Smiley is scared and freezes up. 9999 pauses to yell at it to run and digs at the strange, fleshy tunnel collapsing on them. Smiley finally moves, but the moment of lost time makes it so that the tunnel swallows 9999, leaving only its hoof sticking out of the flash mass. Smiley pulls at the hoof to help 9999, and is left only with a broken off fetlock in its hooves, melted by the acidic tunnel. Smiley flees.
Smiley sees a cleaner disc stuck under rubble. A tool like itself, and tries to free it. It digs it out and pulls, leaving only a useless half of the chassis in its hooves. Everyone screams at it to run while looking up in horror. Smiley flees.
Smiley watches as crawling 20100 pulls out unconscious 10013 across the floor while 36658 holds the ceiling a little further away. 36658 is burning with love while being visibly crushed with every passing moment. 20100 puts 10013’s shattered body in a cocoon glued to Smiley’s back with 99526’s goop. 36658, with no painkillers, screams as lava drips from the ceiling on it, setting its carapace on real, non-green fire, but somehow holds. 99111 picks up collapsed, dead-eyed 99380 while 20100 gives one final look to 36658 and says: “High Score is proud of you, buddy.” Smiley flees alongside everyone.
The three brief flashes of memories end, releasing 10013 back into the real world. 10013 breaks the hug and stands up with a hiss of pain.
“Clean up,” it nods to the walls, “We represent the hive, and this will reflect badly on us all. You are responsible for yourself. No one will hold your hoof anymore,” it repeats.
With that, 10013 slowly limps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind itself. The bitter aftertaste of the entire interaction remains, but the desire to physically hurt Smiley from earlier when it realized what must have happened after it passed out is gone.
Yet another mental pull draws its attention to 99380’s hammock. The unconscious drone’s link is woefully weak but it feels as if there was a message waiting for when 10013 woke up. Upon tapping into it, 10013 finds itself once again in the darkness of the hive mind, this time facing-
“36658?” 10013 smiles but that simple quickly fades when 36658 coughs and says:
“Is this thing on? Holes, I hope so. 10013, you need to know this but I don’t have much time. 99380 is exhausted already from the first time stop but agreed to let me record this so I’ll try to be quick. I asked how it was doing it but it just said the hive mind has buttons,” 36658 takes a breath as 10013 slumps to the floor, feeling its heart being ripped out of its chest for the third time in mere minutes, “First thing first - don’t blame yourself. Maybe don’t blame even Smiley, although definitely bonk it over the head if you all get out,” 36658 chuckles with surprising positivity and 10013 realizes that it’s not stuttering anymore, “Sorry I lied to you but I knew you wouldn’t agree with my plan. By now you must have realized that the painkillers were to knock you out and let me take your place. No, it wasn’t not due to my desire to be like High Score. I…”
36658 takes a deep breath before continuing.
“Throughout this trip, I spent a lot of time with 387 and he helped me realize something. I…”
The drone pauses and tries again.
“I am the problem. All my stories about High Score, the crazy ones I mean, I told them all because I believed that the hive would break down someday soon again, that the good times will end in a not too far future. I wanted us to have something to aspire to, some culture, and awareness of ourselves. I wanted us to know we weren’t just tools even if it all would inevitably collapse. But… 387 told me a lot of stories about his life, about the dark times the hive went through, and about something I didn’t have anymore - trust.”
36658 shakes its head.
“Everything I did - the stories, the plays, the memories I showed to others… all that was only reopening a wound that, due to me, never had the chance to heal. All I managed to do since High Score’s death was to sow distrust between us and the high ranks. You got it right, 10013, and that’s why you must be the one who stays alive - this isn’t the old days, and we need to work with the high ranks to improve our chances of them not coming back. High Score trusted 1988, which started everything, and I believe you’re a drone who can remember the old days but not get its outlook ruined by them. I tried to, I promise I really did, but I can’t let go, I relive everything every time I close my eyes, and that’s why I have to leave. And out of every veteran still alive you’re by far the best leader.”
36658 winces as 10013 stares at its image, tears flowing from its eyes.
“Sometimes the past needs to stay in the past and so on- ouch! I think I’ve just felt 99380’s headache, so I’ll cut it here. So, umm, my glorious last words - I really, REALLY wish I kept some of the agonyslayers for myself-”
The recording ends and 10013 gets booted from 99380’s head, leaving it feeling lonelier than ever before.
What doesn’t help is hearing the Queen’s voice inside its head:
“You’re finally awake. Come into my cabin.”
***
10013, breathing heavily from the effort of climbing a single staircase, slowly limps through the door opened by 99. To whatever little surprise the completely burned out drone can still feel right now, the Queen and the high ranks are accompanied by that changeling Paladin. Ten… was it?
Once it enters, everyone leaves, and the drone finds itself alone with the Queen lying on her belly on the bed. Normally at least a part of 10000 would be terrified, now all of the drone is just empty.
“As it turns out, Ten had some insight into how we got into this whole mess in the first place, but since he’s the ‘good guy’ now he has ‘laws’ to follow. Oh well, at least one of my infiltrators will have an interesting mission once we return home,” says Chrysalis and calls out, facehoofing, “Stop listening by the door, smartasses!”
“I’m here, Your Majesty,” says 10013 quietly.
“I know, I wasn’t just talking to myself,” she makes a pyramid from her hooves and props her chin on it, “I have three things to tell you.”
10013 waits.
“Number one - I couldn’t care less, but I know you do. The island is okay, there was no need for any evacuation, and the griffons played it as an archaeological dig gone wrong that caused some underground mess. As far as I heard, anyone opening their mouth about the cover story being bullshit got it shut by a sum of gold.”
“That’s good,” 10013 breathes out. Even at its numb state it helps to hear some good news.
“Number two - with the obvious exception of 36658, all drones are accounted for. No, I neither know nor particularly care what they’re doing right now aside from 20100 who is in the casino on my orders, carefully recouping my monetary losses for this trip. For me, living status is what counts, which brings us neatly to number three. So, finally, I want to congratulate you for a job well done, even though you’ve made it as difficult for me as possible to mean it.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty, but I failed,” 10013 looks down at the carpeted floor.
“You made sure the damn machine didn’t destroy the knowledge device by honoring our part of the deal,” Chrysalis rolls her eyes, “You’re grieving a loss, I get it, but you’re only a few years old so you can’t even begin to grasp the extent of the good that deal can do. I sent hundreds of thousands of changelings to die for much less. I live with my decisions, and so will you. That it bothers you so much is a good indicator that you’re the right one to make them.”
“Is that all you wanted from me, Your Majesty?” asks 10013 openly, “I don’t know what to say right now. I just don’t feel… all here.”
“Understandable,” Chrysalis nods, “I have called you over to see how you were doing but also for this,” she clears her throat, “Ahem, we’ve never done this in any official manner but I think it’s warranted in this instance - I’m promoting you to rank 10000. A nice, round, easy to remember number. It would be a lot higher but I don’t want to argue about your silly High Score thing.”
“I’m not High Score, Your Majesty.”
“What you did will be vastly more impactful in the long run than whatever you think 9999 did, but calling you Even Higher Score would sound stupid.”
10013 sighs-
10000 sighs.
“Fine, be like that,” Chrysalis pouts, “That’s what I get for trying to cheer you up.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The Queen sighs.
“Is there anything I can do to help? A second statue in your totally secret drone hiding place or something? An extra helping of love? We’ll be landing in Manehattan in about half a day and there’s a long trek to the Badlands still ahead.”
What would High Score say?
“Can you help 99380, please? There seems to be something wrong with it,” says 10000.
“Ah yes, a drone who fried its brain trying to do too much too quickly,” Chrysalis winks at 10000, “I’ll see what I can do to ease its pain.”
“Thank you,” says 10000 with complete sincerity, entirely ruining Chrysalis’ menacing double entendre, and turns around to leave.
Hmph, maybe 387 was right about you after all, drone…
Chrysalis stands up from the bed and stretches.
“I guess I should take care of that immediately. No need to add a drone to the list of souvenirs you guys will be carrying already,” she sharply stomps the hoof against the carpet as 10000 limps towards the door, “And where do you think you’re going?”
“Sleep, Your Majesty,” 10000 replies, hissing in pain as it bends its neck to look back, “You said it yourself - there’s a very long road ahead.”
A shockingly gentle telekinetic grip betraying masterful control grabs 10000 and floats it into Chrysalis’ soft and fluffy bed.
“I won’t be here until we dock, and looking at your current first-rate freshly opened jigsaw puzzle cosplay a proper mattress must feel leagues better than those stupid hammocks,” she closes the curtains on the porthole, opens the door, and gives 10000 one final look, “99 will be coming along shortly to change your bandages. I’m not paying extra for you bleeding all over a royal bed.”
The door clicks, the Queen leaves, and the drone left alone in comfortable darkness yawns.
Despite what 10000 believes it deserves, it’s a restful sleep.