//------------------------------// // Playing games: 3 // Story: They're home. // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// 99200 shivers and turns its head to see if it’s still within sight of the main group, or in this case the now massive sledding slope serving as a guiding beacon. The explorer drone is living up to its unofficial title, standing alone on the open plain and pondering how one would survive this cold if left on its own, with its time ticking down due to the cold making its hooves numb. It starts with the basics: A hole? The digging helps warm it up for a moment, but it quickly becomes clear that the protection the hole offers is woefully limited, especially whenever the freezing wind picks up. Think! You’re alone, freezing, and you’re not in any immediate danger from the usual gribblers. A hole isn’t enough, but you know a hole gets warmer if you’re inside it for a while. I don’t know of a cold-proof carapace design. No material to make clothes like 65536 taught you either. Alright, can I make something from the snow? The best idea it comes up with is covering the hole’s entrance and leaving only a small airhole. Despite the small pocket of snow slowly heating up to a survivable degree, at least in the short term, 99200 finds itself disappointed in itself. It’s a hole. A hole works. Still just a hole, though. This isn’t good enough. *** 10k is finally allowed to open its corporeal eyes, although the darkness of the hive mind does not get replaced by the expected whiteness of the snowfield where the drone was previously resting. In fact, the present green-tinted light softens the darkness only slightly and things become clear when, from the corner of its eye, 10k spots the goop skylight of the throne room.  “...why…” it tries to speak and its mouth barely works. As far as trying to get up goes, it can’t feel anything below its chin whatsoever. Come to think of it, that’s still a plus. Aside from the gap in recent memory, though, its mind feels fine, so 10k reaches out mentally, “What’s going on? Why am I in the throne room? How am I lying on my back without keeling over?” 65536’s head peeks into 10k’s field of view. “You almost froze to death, it’s warmer here, and you are propped by some of the stones the guys are using to build the chimney,” explains the guard drone, “We just finished the skiing slope and 99526 was making goop skis for everyone when the Voice told me something was wrong with you. Your rescue team guys helped me look and we found you buried in the snow. What happened?” “My hooves were getting numb but that also stopped them from hurting, so I wanted to test it with the rest of my body and it worked!” Even a kind drone like 65536 opens its mouth to scold 10k for doing something this dangerous before stopping itself. I’ve never taken the guys outside before, the new vents were installed after our return from the island trip, and even ponies said this winter was the coldest one in ages. How could 10k have known this would happen? “Buddy, please don’t do it again,” says 65536 instead, “Extreme cold is as deadly as extreme heat, only for a different reason,” it leans closer, “There’s a very good reason why Luna always loads me up with spare clothes and warming amulets whenever I travel here.” “Lesson learned. I still can’t feel anything below my chin, though. Do I still have all those bits?” “You’re in one piece, don’t worry. With some love and care, I think you’ll be fine. I got badly frostbitten a couple times and Mister Night Hunter told me we changelings heal a lot better than ponies. It’ll hurt, though.” “How… novel,” comments 10k dryly, “Now I won’t be able to walk in addition to digging and carrying. But hey, at least I’m still a ‘thinker’,” it adds with a suspicious amount of venom in its voice.  65536 files the remark away for later, leans over, and repositions 10k’s head. “Now that I’m looking at you up close I wonder - can you heal your head?” it runs its hoof along the top of 10k’s neck, stopping at a spot where the chitin looks the most in one piece, “Let’s say around here.” “It’s a bit too accurate, but I think I can get the general area,” 10k concentrates. 65536 watches a patch of green fire appear, follow the shape of the head carapace, and then seemingly sink under the carapace when it reaches the shattered part before fading. 10k groans in pain and its eye twitches as the carapace around the affected area seems to move and… bulge. “Hmmm,” 65536 bites its lip and transforms its right front hoof into sharp claws, “10k, can I try something? It might hurt a lot.” “Sure,” 10k tries speaking again, this time successfully, “Might deserve it anyway…” One of 65536’s new claws glows green, and the guard drone uses it to focus its digging power like a scalpel, cutting a strip of 10k’s carapace off and peeling it away as the drone hisses in pain. It doesn’t reveal green flesh as one would expect, rather a softer part of the carapace surrounded by fresh, greenish-brown blood. 65536 cuts around that too, finally getting to the green membrane which serves as the soft part of changeling skin. 10k’s is ruptured and scabbing over in front of 65536’s eyes.  “Don’t try to heal yet,” it tells 10k. When the drone leader nods, 65536 cuts out an even larger strip of carapace and watches for a while before saying, “Okay, can you heal the parts I cut out?” 10k takes a deep breath, and changeling fire reforms a layer of chitin over the cleared area.  A seamless layer. 65536 smiles to itself. A seamless layer that gets displaced and squeezed by the ruined, multi-layered carapace surrounding it that makes it dig back into the “skin” membrane. 65536’s smile transforms into a thoughtful expression. “I can see your face,” croaks 10k, “You’re thinking.” “I occasionally do that. The trick is to not overdo it or your head’s gonna start hurting,” 65536 returns to 10k’s field of view, “So, the good news is that I might be able to help you. The bad news is, well, did I say it might hurt already?” “Twice, I think. And it did. A lot,” 10k winces. “Considering that we need to get your blood flowing so that you can heal the parts you can’t feel right now, it will be much worse.” If drones could pale, 10k would, and 65536 reads its ensuing paralyzed expression well enough to realize just how badly its previous attempt must really have hurt. “I’m sorry,” adds 65536, “We don’t need to do it, it’s just the only thing I can see working right-” “Go for it,” says 10k, “If I start crying it won’t be from pain, just because I miss 36658 and its tormentannihilators so much.” 65536 snickers and pats 10k’s head. “Tomorrow. I need to prepare a couple things and you must rest up. In fact, I advise you to go to sleep right after we finish here and not wake up until I poke you.” “Do you need me to do anything else while we’re here?” “That depends. Can you feel your body again?” “Uhhh,” 10k tries to move its legs. All that ensues is a ticklish feeling, “Not much. It just tingles a little.” “Then I do still need you here,” 65536 swings its hind leg over 10k’s barrel, lowers itself down while careful not to sit on it, grabs 10k’s forelegs, and starts slowly moving them up and down, bending at the knees, “We need to get your blood flowing again.” “Is it not? Where is it?” 10k reminds 65536 that, despite being the drone leader, it’s still just a drone who left the hive only twice in its life, and whose species doesn’t know what a doctor is, “Is that why I can’t move?” “Yes, it is,” 65536 replies, moving the forelegs non-stop. A massage would help a pony, but rubbing another drone’s natural, unsoftened carapace would likely be pointless, so controlled movement is the only way.  “Aaaa haaa-” 10k grits its teeth as the tingling in its legs turns into sharp needles digging deep, “I don’t like what’s happening. I don’t like it at all.” “It’s not dangerous. It’ll just be extremely unpleasant for a while. That’s the blood starting to flow correctly through your legs again. On the other hole, you should be able to move on your own a little more now,” explains 65536. 10k hisses in pain but tries to control its limbs and make them do the movement otherwise only forced by 65536.  “I think my body hates me,” it groans. “Don’t be silly,” feeling 10k moving its forelegs on its own, 65536 shuffles downwards and starts working on its hind legs in the same way, “It’s all just biology that we know only very little about. Trust me, I spent a lot of time since last winter digging through books of all the libraries of Canterlot in order to find anything about changeling medicine to explain why you’re not healing. I even found a couple of old changelings who’d lived in Canterlot pre-invasion and they didn’t know anything.” “I wasn’t- ow! I wasn’t joking,” 10k sharply breathes in as the pain spikes again, this time throughout its lower body, “Did I tell you what 36658 did before… you know? It killed a wounded griffon. It didn’t have to, the griffon was unable to defend himself, but it did. In its case, it just started stuttering. I haven’t told this to anyone, but over the past two weeks, my body has gotten worse. Since…”  “You sent Smiley away because it caused 47989’s death? 387 told me about it.”  “There’s more to it than I told 387,” 10k shakes its head, “If that’s all he told you, he didn’t read my mind. I left some stuff out when we talked about it. He’s right behind me, isn’t he?” it adds. “Heh, no. We’re alone. I have no idea where the top ranks went, and the drones are still outside, watched by 2119 and 3012,” 65536 smiles at 10k, “Let’s leave it for tomorrow, though. I’ll be operating on you for a long time, so you’ll be able to tell me everything. If 57999’s agonyslayers don’t knock you out completely, that is.” “I’m gonna wish they did, aren’t I?”  “Yep,” 65536 nods, “But, if possible, I’m going to need you awake, because I’ll be doing something that’s never been done, or at least recorded, before. All I know about our bodies is what I’ve tried over the years whenever I got hurt too badly during training or a shift. I never let Luna just use healing magic despite it happening a lot. She hates it but it’s all part of the training.” “Well,” 10k forces a smirk, “I’m gonna get some pain-handling training too then.” “Too bad you’ll be getting the expert version immediately.” This time, 10k chuckles earnestly before grunting in pain as the expected needle pain gets worse. “Heh. When have we drones had it easy?” *** 99380 looks sideways at 99533, both standing on goop skis atop the frankly unreasonably tall snow slope the drones have managed to build so far.  “Three… two… one… go!” a drone standing by the bottom of the slope linked up with the two counts down. 99380 and 99533 lean downwards and start accelerating down the slope until they reach a jumping off point. Unfortunately, when making plans for the slope, 65536 apparently forgot that the jumping off point shouldn’t bend back upwards. At the speed the two drones are going, it catapults them into the air, both squee-ing in pure excitement. “99380, we found 99200 not moving inside a hole. Can you call 65536? 10k was like that when 65536 carried it off over an hour ago.” The two drones flying at a rapid speed through the air look at each other, 99380 smiles, and vanishes in a burst of green flames. 99533 blinks mid-air, so completely taken aback that it forgets where it is, flies over the drones digging the new vents, and slams into the snow bank on the side of the hive, bouncing along the new slope. Thankfully, drones are very drop-proof unless they hit a hard surface head-on, so when 99533 eventually stops, it just remains there, concussed but otherwise mostly healthy in a situation that would leave a pony a mangled mess. As if nothing happened, 99380 reappears right next to 99112 and the other two members of the response team as they’re carrying unconscious 99200 towards the hive’s entrance. “Wow, that was quick,” comments 99911, “How did you do that? We could really use some kind of instant movement. Just imagine - a drone calls to us for help so we just grab some melties and appear nearby in a moment.” “I’m not really sure, sorry,” 99380 rubs its head, slightly embarrassed at being unable to help, “A lot of weird things just kinda… happen to me. You know what? Let me carry 99200 and I’ll try to do it again.” The drones load 99200 onto 99380’s back. “Hmmm, now what was I do-” In a burst of green fire, 99380 vanishes again along with the unsuccessful survivalist. ***  “I leave for three hours and when I come back there are two frozen drones in the throne room?” 156 rolls her eyes as she returns from whatever high rank business she was tasked with. She immediately checks the minds of the two shivering drones and facehoofs, “And both because they stuck themselves up to their necks in snow.” “In my defense, I briefly felt much better,” says 10k, sitting on the floor by a large box radiating a small amount of heat previously not seen by 156, wrapped in 65536’s spare clothes with only its head peeking out. “...the hole became comfortable and warm after a while…” mumbles 99200 quietly from inside said heated box “...I thought the shelter started working…” “Yes, hypothermia does that,” 156 sighs, “What were 2119 and 3012 doing?” “Watching the rest of us who were building the big skiing slope. We got kinda carried away,” 65536, keeping an eye on the two thawing drones, smiles at 156, “10k, 99200, and a few others went off to explore just in case the surface would help them discover something to help them down in the tunnels. Thankfully, we found both 10k and 99200 before something bad could happen.”  “I hope you established some sort of a periodic check-in for everyone afterwards, just in case someone else explored a little too much,” the infiltrator looks at 65536. “Yup,” the guard drone nods, “99380 is doing that.” “Everyone is okaaaay!” calls a voice from the ceiling on which 99380 is currently casually standing upside-down as if gravity was optional, poking the section where 156 recalls the quicktrotter skip is with that strange dwarven staff they’d brought from the island a year and a half ago. 156 can’t sense heightened love usage from the drone which would hint at some transformation, which makes her wonder how 99380 is doing that. Some kind of a new goop invention, perhaps? “What are you doing up there?” she asks. “Just checking if the skip exit we found here is different from the others. By the way, there’s a skip entrance somewhere around the throne room too but I haven’t found it yet. For some reason, the whoomer doesn’t seem to be working here the same way it does in the tunnels,” 99380 looks down, catching 156’s patient stare, “Right, coming!” In a burst of green fire, it teleports down, making the infiltrator jump backwards and lower into a combat pose. “WHAT. THE. HOLES?!” she snarls at the drone. “Meep?” 99380 backpedals, dropping the whoomer, understandably spooked, “What, where, who?” it turns around to see if something’s behind it. Turning back to face 156 whose expression has softened, it adds, “Me?” The infiltrator takes a slow breath and gradually releases it. “99380, how did you just teleport?” she asks slowly and patiently, knowing the confused drone enough to understand that this is bound to take some digging. “Tele-what? You said you wanted me to come down and at first I wanted to fly down but you sounded like you meant right now, so I… uhh… I’m not sure. I think I did the same thing when I got 99200 here. I think it just happened to me a couple times before. I… start doing something and my head gets kinda lost, but my body gets me where I need to be,” 99380 gives her an apologetic look, “Sorry. There’s always so much to do and to think about…” “99380, no one but the Queen can just teleport- just vanish and reappear elsewhere. As far as I know, barely a few top ranks were able to do it even before the invasion. You’re a drone who can, somehow, do it. You shouldn’t have the control or love, and yet you’re not even particularly exhausted after doing it,” 156 walks over to the once again worried drone and grabs its shoulders. When her amazement gives way to her noticing 99380 trying to look as small as possible, her expression softens, “That’s not a bad thing. I’m just amazed. If you could teach others how to do it, it would be… incredible.” And just like that, 99380’s worries vanish. It’s just a simple drone who believes in smart guys, and 156 chides herself for not approaching the situation with as much precision as an infiltrator should. “Yay,” says 99380 and smiles. “I need to check your head,” says 156, “You can help me by recalling the instances when you just moved without really thinking about it.” “Oooh, I can remember a few!” 99380 jumps in place, “When I got almost eaten-” “Shhh, just think about them,” 156 pats the drone’s head, puts her horn to its forehead, and digs deep. She quickly learns two things - the teleportation has happened many times and 99380 has no clue how to do it. Sighing, she withdraws. Not sure what I was expecting. It’s just a drone being… drone-y.  99380 tilts its head when it senses her disconnect. “Wow, you high ranks work quick!” it comments. “Keep being a good drone, little guy,” she pulls 99380 into a hug for a moment before letting it go, “I changed my mind. Feel free to keep looking for that skip thing around here.” 99380 nods with just the happiest smile, sticks the dropped whoomer back into a leg hole, absolutely normally flies back up, defies physics by simply turning upside-down, and finally resumes casually walking on the ceiling. 156 decides to perform her observation a little differently, and sits down, letting herself drift into the hive mind and meld closely with 99380, absorbing its thoughts as if they were her own. If anyone needs her, they can just poke her, both physically or mentally.