//------------------------------// // Everything old is new again 4 // Story: They're home. // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// A brief moment of surprise stops all activity inside the High Score cavern as 156 shrinks, squeezes through the entrance crack, and returns to her full size in a burst of green fire. What makes her smile a little, despite the implications which Chrysalis’ mission for her hints at, is that after the initial shock at seeing a high rank at their place, the drones quickly resume their activities and stop worrying about her. The infiltrator can’t help taking in the sight of a place rivalling Chrysalis’ throne room in size with only the exception of height, and even then the three floors look impressive despite being built with drone dimensions in mind. It definitely looks more civilized, though, clearly taking from the drone experience with Silversmith architecture rather than natural changeling one. Even the pillars scattered randomly- no, 156 quickly realizes, they’re not random. On the first glance it might look like that, but a structural analysis of the hive mind map of the place quickly reveals that the pillars are not decorations but practical support wherever the cavern needs them. I should probably visit in person more often. 156 walks over to the nearest, perfectly square pillar and looks at the thin carvings. Unlike with the walls of core tunnels which are covered in Silversmith alchemical formulas copied from the mysterious device the changelings got as a reward a couple years earlier, this one seems to depict a detailed view of some kind of a unicorn wearing heavy armor from multiple angles. Faction: Equestri / Unit: Ancient Shieldbearer / Hits: 12 / - 156 stops reading as she realizes this is just a Scufflestick model stat sheet. She played the game with a borrowed set on occasion against 99 and, while interesting from a tactical standpoint, the infiltrator concluded that her time could be better used elsewhere. Practicing just to wipe 387’s smirk off of his face is always tempting, though, especially when a good majority of the drones relaxing after their shift seem enthralled with either playing or even just watching. Maybe I could challenge 387 once I’m done here. Winner gets something nice? Unlike other changelings, infiltrators are always tapped into all active hive links, which can be overwhelming for lesser ranks, so the inborn defensive mechanism is reflexively muting the irrelevant ones or, in the case of more skilled changelings, instinctively hearing everything but filtering out unimportant information without it even getting processed by her short-term memory. In this instance, 156 is powerful enough to let herself hear the quiet music playing through the many minds surrounding her without their other thoughts distorting it in the slightest. She easily tracks it to the source, which is 99380’s mind. The drone itself is currently bent over in the back of the room, attending 10k’s yoga session, “Hi, 156!” the drone greets her at the mental touch, which makes her freeze internally. She wasn’t trying to be inconspicuous, but a drone shouldn’t, by any measure, be able to recognize such a light touch as if she physically tapped it on the shoulder, “What brings you here? Wanna do bendies with us?” “Can’t, official business,” replies the infiltrator, “SECRET business, for now.” “Okay!” her reply does nothing to diminish 99380’s cheer, “Do you wanna pick the next song? When 65536 learned about all the little tricks I’ve been doing with our part of the hive mind, it told me about this thingy called a juke-box. It lets you pick and play any song that we know. I haven’t found the right button for it yet, though, so it’s me who has to pick them, but anyone can request one they like. Only ONE, and drones can’t pick the same one in a row. We learned after the 99557 incident. You get one drones singing diggy diggy, then it’s ten, then the whole cavern, then we can’t get it out of our heads for whole three worky times, and then 99557 got eaten because it couldn’t stop humming while digging out fresh tunnels, and it lured gribblers. Sad death, 99557 had great taste in music.” For some reason, 156 can’t help wanting to hear more about that, but stops herself from asking. Mission first, storytime later. That is, if she isn’t asked to leave afterwards. “My condolences.” “What's a gondola dance?” asks 99380, but before 156 can answer, it continues, “Oh no! I shouldn’t have thought about that- dum-de dum-de dum-de dududu, all drones of the hive rejoice, dig dig dig with me!” To 156’s surprise, 99380’s link mutes itself on its own, probably to avoid more accidental death by earworm down the line. The brief dialogue does wonders to calm the infiltrator down after her confidence in her mental skills took a proper punch in the gut. Well, it’s a drone whose specialty is hive mind manipulation. That’s bound to lead to some unusual skills, no reason to get suspicious. Now, let’s find a target… She looks around and notices a drone currently rising up after some trading with a different one and seemingly earning itself a small but colorful, cracked geode. 156 taps into its mind and makes it do a little hop of joy, leaving no trace of her interference. Zero resistance to mind control. “Hey, 99233,” 156 quickly approaches the drone, flying over scattered drone groups. Once she lands in front of 99233, she says in a quiet but sharp voice, “Show me that geode!” “Here!” 99233 looks up at her with a smile and offers the treasure for inspection, “Pretty, isn’t it?” Oookay, not the reaction I needed here. 156 steels herself for what’s bound to come, and says: “It is. Give it to me!” “Umm, what?” 99233’s voice cracks a little, which sends what feels like a spike through 156’s heart, “But I traded for it.” “Too bad, it’s mine now. That’s an order. Give it here!” she extends her foreleg. “B-B-But-” 99233 wibbles. Thankfully, 156 is ready otherwise she would immediately apologize and give the drone a hug, “I t-traded a water pebble w-with yellow spots for it…” “I am the top rank of the hive, and you will do what I say!” 156 can’t find it in herself to raise her voice, but she can still muster a believable threatening tone. “B-But the rules- I- we’re not supposed to- 10k said-” 99233 sniffles. At this point of open resistance, 156 concentrates and takes control of the drone’s mind, forcing it to give the cracked geode to her and apologize for being a disobedient drone. Neither of those things happen. There is no pushback, no reflexive construction of mental protections, no action. 156 would know, as she did gain her rank under the old rules fair and square. The drone suddenly isn’t in her mental grasp, that’s all. Her mind is working just fine, she just did something she’d done hundreds of times in her life, and to infinitely more powerful changelings. On top of that, as if nothing happened, she’s still connected to the overall flow of the place and listening to 99380’s current choice of music. Alright. I guess I got what Chrysalis sent me here for. “What’s going on?” asks 10k who has limped over from the yoga class and forced its way between 99233 and 156. “156 ordered me to give her my shiny rock but doesn’t want to trade anything,” mumbles 99233 so mournfully that 156 winces and wracks her brain for what to say for the situation to end up as a net positive. “I don’t believe for a second you’re here for something you can just put on a list for us to dig up next worky time. What is this about?” asks 10k openly through a private link. 156 smiles. Ask and ye shall receive. She reaches out and gives 99233 a slow headpat which the drone receives with a puzzled: “Meep?” “It was just a test I was sent to perform by the Queen herself,” she raises her voice and invokes the royal title. Despite what it might seem from the behavior of 10k, 99380, and a couple of the experienced drones, to the vast majority the Queen is still a mysterious, majestic, near omnipotent shadow hovering over them at all times, and that fact is bound to help her talk her way out of this. While not all drones are listening openly, it doesn’t take an infiltrator to sense the lull in activity and hear the sudden lack of rolling dice, “And you passed, 99233. Excellent job. It’s crucial that the hive’s rules are clear to everyone - to those they limit, like myself, but also to those they benefit, like you. 10k here can tell you about times when things were different. It’s good to see that you are aware of the rules and can stand up for yourselves, even the newbies.” 99233’s jaw drops and eyes go wide. It would be perfect if it wasn’t for a string of green snot slowly travelling down from its nostril after its previous tearing up. 156 pats the drone again and feels it buzzing. “That was one of the reasons, 10k,” she responds to the drone leader, “I have two more orders directly from the top, though. Number one - you are supposed to build a proper door to this place. It hasn’t been a secret for a long time and the Queen wants it properly accessible. If nothing else, it will be easier to get wounded here.” “Understood.” “And the Queen also wants you to stop digging around her personal recovery project. With the giant rock worm activity it’s simply too dangerous and it can wait.” “R-Really?” that takes even the grizzled veteran drone by surprise. “You can thank me later because I won’t relay the surprise in your voice to Chrysalis. You should understand by now that she does appreciate you. She just has a… peculiar process of showing it.” “Understood. And thank you.” The whole mental exchange takes less than a second during which 156 is just petting 99233, and 10k just leaves without a word spoken out loud, which serves as a signal for drones to resume their activities. “So, little guy,” 156 leans closer to 99233, and smirks, “Can I make it up to you? You know, for the spook.” The still stunned drone shakes its head which 156 misconstrues as denial and rises to her full height again. “156?” peeps 99233, “Can I ride you?” No inappropriate comments, infiltrator! If only because the drone wouldn’t get it. “On my back?” asks 156, keeping a straight face. “Mhm!” 99233 nods eagerly, “A melty spitter once got my leg and I couldn’t walk so the rescue team carried me off and lying on another walking changeling’s back felt great, huggy and bouncy in a way that made me sleepy and safe, but my leggos bopped the ground and it always woke me up. I wonder how it would feel to be on the back of a big changeling.” “Well? Let’s turn that fantasy into reality, shall we?” 156 lowers to the floor and 99233 climbs on her back, grabs the thin infiltrator with all four legs, and nuzzles the nape of her neck. 156 trots around, processing what happened or, more correctly, how it could have happened. Drones, all or potentially with caveats, can’t be mind controlled, but that only works if one tries to make them do something they directly don’t want to. That reaction to mind control… was unique to say the least. Chrysalis was right and 415 didn’t just screw up, something’s going on. On the other hole, she did successfully make 99856 forget that the visiting drone was her. Is the resistance inconsistent or really just drone-specific? From the preliminary examination it looks based on intentions. Hmph, I won’t figure out more without varied experiments, and forcing drones to repeatedly do stuff they don’t want to, with their willingness to do most things anyway, does sound like a bad idea. Oh well, let’s report to Bugbutt and see where we go from there. “Hey, 99233!” 156 jumps up a little when she realizes the drone is lying on her like a sack of potatoes. “Huh, hmm? Awake! Totally awake!” it twitches and raises its head. “Do you want to know what a rodeo is?” “Road what?” “A pony game. Try to hold on!” 156 bucks up with her hind legs and the drone scrambles to avoid falling off. When it stabilizes on her back, 156 jumps into the air. “Whoa! Hah! Eee!“ 99233 grasps for anything it can reach on 156’s neck and barrel, barely managing to remain up there. “Get ready,” 156 lowers her voice and, when she feels the four-legged grip on her back strengthen, suddenly kicks up with her hind legs… …completely overestimating the drone’s strength. 99233 flies off and slams its face directly into the nearest pillar, thankfully not against the edge, and unceremoniously flops on the floor afterwards. 156 rushes over, worried she might have accidentally hurt the drone, and asks: “Are you okay?” 99233 suddenly jerks up and, swaying slightly, raises its hoof. “Again!” “No, you got one ride for the spook, that’s all I promised-” 156 shakes her head. “Wibble…?” peeps 99233, expression honest, bright, and full of hope. How is it EVEN WORSE when it just SAYS the word?! “-FINE! Only one more, and a quick one on top, you little manipulative abomination,” she huffs, deliberately choosing long words with a lower chance of insulting the drone. “Yaaaay!” 99233 flies up on her back on its own and grips her tightly again. Several jerky jumps later, it’s clear that 156 can throw the drone off at any point, so she flails over to the ‘pool’ of jelly resin under the big slide, and tosses 99233 into it… or at it. A drone can’t sink into that particular variant of goop, but it can quite happily bounce along until it ends up on the other side. “Thank you!” 99233 gathers itself, grinning from ear to ear. 156 shakes her head, smiling to herself too, and turns away to leave when she notices that a good chunk of drones are intently watching her, Scufflestick games and other activities paused yet again. The infiltrator decides to ignore it and keep walking. It doesn’t feel apprehensive this time, though. What do they-? “Miss 156?” a drone previously occupied by trading finally raises a foreleg several seconds later. “Yes?” she looks at it. “Can I get a bumpy ride too?” it raises a small, jagged shard of obsidian, “I can trade you a black shiny. It’s pointy too. Look!” it waves it in the air. 156 looks around, facing pair after pair of teal eyes locked on her. “Okay, who else wants a rodeo ride? Raise your hooves!” she calls out for everyone to hear. She sighs when her answer comes in the form of a complete forest of raised forelegs, in some cases two per drone. At least no one tried to raise- nevermind, there’s one on its back with all four in the air. “Alright, we’ll go by your rank. With the exception of you, 99652,” she points at the quad-legger, “Point for creativity, but you’re still going last for being greedy.” “Awwww…” 99652 sits back up. As 156 takes the first request, which is not 10k but 57999, the drones about to go soon start lining up. Say what you want, this still beats “daily haul balancing meeting number 2375”.