//------------------------------// // Power of perseverance: 1 // Story: They're home. // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// The throne room bath tub has been set up, the water is steaming inside it, and the drones’ hoofsteps are still echoing through the hive, each having left with a lock of Chrysalis’ mane. They could have gotten a full love crystal or some of the gems stored for the next set of missions, but Chrysalis knows by now that drones have a ridiculous collector streak and something as unique and lasting as her mane is a much more valuable reward despite not being shiny and containing less love than a full crystal.  “Never thought I’d say that, but the short mane suits you, Big Floaty,” states 387, the surprise in his voice completely genuine. “Smack him over the head for me, 156,” Chrysalis doesn’t dignify the comment with a look, entirely occupied by testing the hot water with her hoof. While she’s not watching, 156 approaches 387, raises her foreleg towards the defiantly pouting warrior, and… …instead of gently bonking him, she wraps it around his neck and gives him a kiss. Needless to say, it surprises him more than any blow would. “Heeey!” 387 frowns when 156 withdraws and he notices a small amount of his love missing, having been drained by the infiltrator. “Tasty,” she winks at him. “I’d like to report a changeling disobeying a royal order!” 387 allows himself a fake whine. “I smacked him with my lips, Your Majesty,” 156 chuckles, “Mission accomplished.”  Chrysalis ignores both of them, slowly sliding into the bathtub. “Clowns, both of you. Ahhhh…” she breathes out, closing her eyes, “156, if you can stop yourself from slobbering over 387 just for a little longer, go tell the 2119 and 3012 to close the entrance and go to sleep. On the way, close the throne room. 387 and I have something to talk about. It won’t take long.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” she leaves the throne room and, with a few touches relocating the love in the wall around the entrance, makes the resin wall seal the throne room off. Inside, Chrysalis sighs. “It’s still cold in here, the water won’t last long. Do you think we could section off a part of the throne room to make a bathroom?” For once, 387 decides to accommodate her and not change the subject immediately. “This place is needlessly big, especially when you’re the only changeling here most of the time. You could easily fit several small, insulated rooms by the back wall of the chimney and keep the throne room for official occasions. Not that we actually have any.” Chrysalis sighs louder and for a longer time. Whatever is bothering 387 must be crucial this time for him to play at her pace. “Alright, 387, speak. I suppose it has something to do with you tracking a certain group of ranked changelings, am I right?” “Seven ranked changelings have been moving around the hive with a cart of cargo. They either knew someone was tracking them or were just paranoid, because they moved the cargo repeatedly and in the end I couldn’t safely follow them. There’s a limit to sneaking when you have to follow a long, straight tunnel,” he frowns. “Any idea who they were?” asks Chrysalis, successfully hiding the shock that turns her blood to ice despite the hot water she’s submerged in. Seven?! There were seven of them when they ambushed 65536 and 99200 and one of them got melted by 65536’s spell. 387 was in stealth mode long after that. Why are there still SEVEN? Does that mean one of the gate sentries joined them? No, that makes no sense. One of them was with the drones outside and one was helping 65536 with the surgery. Even if every other ranked changeling was a traitor, there should only be six of them.  “No, only that there wasn’t a drone with them, so that’s… something,” 387 shakes his head, “I couldn’t identify their hive links at all. I barely even sensed them up close. They have someone with them who can reliably shield them from any form of tracking and…” he pauses briefly. Chrysalis doesn’t interrupt him with any nonsense and he continues, “I think it’s another flutterpony.” “What the holes?!” this time, Chrysalis doesn’t manage to control herself. “I… I have my ways to track changelings who are way more skilled than me in terms of mental skills. Instead of forcing myself to dig into unfamiliar territory, I’ve been practicing my unique skills since I had to use them on the island due to the anti-changeling restraints. Whoever is shielding the strange group, though, is effective even against me.” “I see. And only another flutterpony could block your special flutterpony powers, right?” “Yes. As far as I know, neither you nor 156 can do it,” admits 387 openly, “However, I’ve been thinking and I have an idea how to find them. It, unfortunately, would require you to stay calm when I show you something.” Chrysalis raises an eyebrow. “Do go on, 387. You know I’m the paragon of patience and not-overreacting.” “This isn’t a joke,” says the warrior and invites Chrysalis into the hive mind. The two slip into an empty hive mind room, 387 concentrates, and the “default drone” appears. “Ah. Nice to see you again in person, Voice,” Chrysalis allows herself the smuggest of smiles. 387’s jaw drops. “You- You know about this thing?!” “Tsk tsk tsk,” Chrysalis shakes her head, “Don’t call my friend Voice ‘a thing’.” 387 boots them out of the hive mind immediately, looking sternly at Chrysalis smirking back in the real world. “How do you know about it?” he asks. “Drones aren’t good at keeping secrets,” Chrysalis shrugs, water trickling through the gaps in her carapace, “And I’m vastly better at hunting down hive mind entities than you and 99 put together. Voice and I came to an… understanding.” 387 takes a moment to collect himself. “Well, this… Voice said it sensed a mind similar to mine at some point, so that’s what gave me the flutterpony idea. The mental shield I encountered later didn’t confirm it as such, but definitely gave the opinion weight. Uh, Voice -we need to give you a real name-, can you sense the weird mind again?” “Not right now. If you give me something exact to look for I might be able to, but not right now,” replies Voice, audible in the minds of both present changelings, “Umm, can I go? 99111 has been assembling a generator brought by 65536 and I have to categorize the new knowledge. It doesn’t use up much love unless I need to be quick.” “Of course, this was just a misunderstanding,” says Chrysalis out loud and feels Voice vanish, “Generator? What are they doing this time?” “No idea, not sure if I want to know,” 387 shakes his head, “So, what do we do now?” “Now we have a good night’s sleep, 387. That’s an order,” Chrysalis’ tone turns serious, “You look exhausted. Get over here and I’ll recharge you. No more running around tonight.” “Better to face whatever is coming fresh, I suppose,” 387 sighs, approaching the bathing Queen. Neither of them know that 156 is standing with her ear pressed against the narrowest wall of the throne room. Once the sounds of the Queen and 387 talking die down, she walks over to the closed entrance to the throne room and waits until Chrysalis decides to call her back in. As 156 loads the final chunks of coal for the day and lies down by it, pressing her back against the stones, she forces her racing mind under control and tries to fall asleep. So much to do, and so little time. *** By far the longest carriage of the Las Pegasus Express, the bar, is both full and empty at the same time. Pretty much all passengers are here right now, drinking away the memories of the bandit ambush, but from the limited conversation and thousand-yard stares it’s clear that everyone’s minds are elsewhere entirely. However, if there is something to bring everyone’s attention back to reality then it’s the arrival of the changeling whose head was blown clean off, who came back before their eyes, and who subsequently ate its own body with just the happiest, innocent smile. Even the band playing an unobtrusive tune on a podium in the back of the car stops when said changeling enters the bar and looks around with eyes wide from complete amazement. “GASP! EVERYTHING IS SPARKLY!” 99999 squees as it takes in the glamor of the bar carriage lit by a central glass chandelier, numerous sconces on the walls, and the occasional candle burning on the occupied tables. All the light sources meet on the shelves behind the bar taking up most of the left side of the car where there are rows upon rows of variously colored liquor bottles. 99999 loses all self-control and immediately rushes to the counter and flies up onto a bar stool twice its height. Only then it turns back around and waves at Smiley who is still standing by the door, “Look, Smiley, I’m so tall I could boop the Queen now!” without waiting for any reaction, it turns around again and peeks through a glass of some amber-colored liquid in front of a mare sitting on the next stool, “Ooooh, prettyyy. Whatcha drinking?” it beams at her. She stares at the hyper changeling who by all rights should be dead, and eventually shrugs. The world has turned into a weird place. “Something strong enough to calm my nerves after today but for you, little weirdo, it would fluff your chest,” she mutters with a snicker.  “I WANNA FLUFFY CHEST!” 99999 correctly identifies the bartender as someone probably responsible for this whole place and waves at him, “Mister pony! Can I get the chest fluffer too? Mister steward Coltsy said Smiley and I were first class now and can get-” “I’m aware,” the bartender nods, “Are you old enough to drink, though?” “I drank some stuff before,” replies 99999, unsure what the question means, “Was I not supposed to?” “It’s fine,” the drinking mare smirks, “Pour the guy a small one and when he starts swaying I’ll call his marefriend to take him away.” “I’d rather still ask,” the bartender frowns and waves at Smiley. When she takes a couple steps forward, he adds, “Hey, Miss changeling! Is your little friend allowed to drink alcohol?”  Smiley hesitates, but without her tablet she doesn’t have much of an option but to carefully nod. After all, why wouldn’t a changeling be allowed to drink something ponies can? Consent given, 99999 sniffs the fresh glass in front of itself and tenses up, blinking. The mare next to it smirks. “Too strong for you, youngin?” she teases and downs the rest of her own glass. Spurred on, 99999 downs its own in one gulp. It freezes, breathes in, and immediately starts wheezing and coughing. Smiley notices and rushes to help, but all she does is stand up on her hind legs, pushing herself up on the bar stool with her forelegs, before 99999 recovers, calms down, and just says: “Wow.” “Are you okay?” asks the bartender. “Yup, all nice and warm now,” 99999 nods and pats its stomach, “The taste just surprised me. I’m fine, Smiley,” it leans down and hugs Smiley who is still standing partially upright, “Do you want a drink too? I don’t think it makes you fluffy, though,” it recalls the crucial part of the promise and bends its head down to examine its still stubbornly chitinous chest, “Maybe I need to drink more?” it turns to the bartender, “Can I get more, please?” “No amount of this will make you grow hair on your chest, little guy,” says the bartender, “It’s just a pony saying.” “Hmmm,” 99999 thinks for a second before shooting the instigating mare a look, “Sorry I misunderstood you, Miss. I’m new to this pony stuff.” “I, uh, it’s fine?” she isn’t sure how to cope with the situation going in an entirely different direction than she expected when baiting the changeling. 99999 smiles at her and turns towards the bartender again. “Mister, do you have something that tastes like love?” “I’m afraid I don’t know what love tastes like.” “Huuuh-” 99999 looks sideways where Smiley, still persistently propped against the middle ring of the bar stool, starts waving her foreleg, “Yes, Smiley?” Smiley reaches for her neck and visibly withers when the tablet isn’t there. Her lack of ability to express herself is much worse when she knows how to help and can’t. She scrunches her nose. Best number would figure out how to do this even without a tablet. She makes an exaggerated shape of an S in the air. “S?” guesses the bartender.  Smiley nods and makes an exaggerated W. “Sweet?” he gets it on the second try.  Smiley nods, but it’s not over yet as she tries to add more detail about the amazing drink Mister Night Hunter got for her.  “Hot?”  More nodding, more gesticulation. “S- sh- shoko- chocolate?” Smiley nods, beams, and finally stops, satisfied with her work. The bartender ponders it briefly before looking over the carriage to assess the state of incoming orders. “I don’t exactly have that on hoof, but let me deal with this round and I’ll try to think of something.” “Thank you, Mister!” only now does 99999 take its egg-less and significantly lighter backpack from its back and move it to the front, able to fit like that on the bar stool only due to its small size. Situation solved, Smiley just sits down on the floor under the counter and waits.  The bartender returns quickly, offering 99999 a glass of something brown and, unlike the previous drink, barely even sloshing.  “A Maretime Bayleys?” the mare sitting next to 99999 sniffs the air, “Good choice.” The drone sniffs the glass as well. Its ears perk up and it downs it in one gulp. “Eeeeeeeeeeee!” it squee’s immediately, “Can I get another one, please? Smiley, you MUST try this! This is the best thing ever! THE. BEST. THING. EVER!” “Two glasses it is then,” the bartender smirks. *** An hour goes by, during which the bar of the Las Pegasus Express empties somewhat. The remaining passengers, though, are clearly having a great time with one peculiar, new attraction. “Ch- cheatin’ lil’ bugger-” the latest challenger slowly keels over and drops from the bar stool, caught by the onlookers who set up chairs and moved several tables into a semi-circle around the bar counter. “Yaaaaay, I won again!” cheers 99999, the counter in front of it full of empty shot glasses. It also shoves a pile of bits to its side of the counter, taking only a couple of bits to stash in its backpack, “And I got this many shinies! Small glasses for everyone! Who wants to play another round?” The bartender stops by 99999 and counts off the coins before getting to work on refilling everyone’s glasses. In the meantime, a new challenger sits on the bar stool next to the drone, a stallion for the first time this evening, and lays down several coins on the counter between himself and the drone.  “Prepare to get your plot kicked, you big colt!” calls out someone from the audience. So far, 99999 has managed to drink five ponies under the table with no signs of the alcohol having any effect on it, but there’s lively betting between the audience not on the winner but on how long the challengers last, and with 99999 using most of its winnings to pay for everyone else’s drinks, using its first class privilege only for its own orders, there’s very little ill will between the crowd. In contrast to 99999’s popularity, Smiley is sitting alone at a corner table with her own bottle of the chocolate liquor, her eyes locked on the menu in front of her. This “menu” thing is both daunting and fascinating. While she can, on average, understand over half of the words she finds, they make no sense to her when put together, which is the peculiar part. The good part is that the menu is separated into different sections, so when she gets stuck on one she can move onto a different one. Beverages. A new, weird word. Smiley perseveres and starts exploring the list underneath. An idea comes to mind when she sees a familiar word, and she looks towards the bar, specifically at the list of drinks written in large, chalk, letters on a large blackboard hanging from the ceiling. I miss my slate. Her assumption proves correct and the “beverages” section is an expanded list of “drinks” at the bar. Now to decipher what the drinks could be. White Stalliongradian? Virgin Bloody Mare? Unknown words and word combinations all over the place. Smiley knows she might not have the smarts like 10k, but the two major things she has in abundance are patience and persistence, both words that she doesn’t know, can’t write, but feels deep in her bones… which she doesn’t know she has either. The noises of 99999 being the main attraction tonight fade into the background as she reads on, which allows certain steward Coltsy approach her table without her noticing. Only when he casts a shadow over the menu does Smiley notice him. “Hey, young lady. For being the great savior of the Express, you don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself. Is anything wrong?” Smiley, like many times today, unconsciously reaches for her neck before sighing and just shaking her head. Now that most of the daily duties are done, Coltsy seizes the initiative and opens with: “Am I bothering you? Would you like me to leave you alone?” Smiley shakes her head again, making him more confident about his approach. The two changelings are clearly far out of their safe zone, and only one is dealing with it well. The changelings who occasionally ride the Express are always the full-sized ones who have no trouble fitting in with anyone who isn’t directly trying to keep away, so this is an interesting experience. The only drawback is that he has to figure out how to solve the situation only using yes or no questions. “Would you like another drink?” he taps the empty liquor bottle on the table. Smiley nods.  Coltsy runs off and returns shortly with more liquor. It’s a different, green bottle, though. He puts it on the table with: “I wanted to get you the chocolate one but your friend told me to get you absinthe. Supposedly it’s bound to remind you of home,” he fills up Smiley’s glass.  She picks it up with both forelegs, sniffs it, takes a sip, smiles, and finally nods. Coltsy watches her slowly sip the drink. Despite not contributing to the conversation, the changeling’s silence doesn’t seem to be the awkward kind, just that of someone not used to company and currently unable to continue the conversation, not unwilling to. “With your friend busy, would you like to play a game for two that doesn’t require you talking?” This elicits a look of genuine interest from Smiley, emboldening Coltsy to pull out a heavily-used deck of cards from the pocket of his steward suit and sets it on the table. “Do you know how to play Blackjack?” Smiley shakes her head. “It’s a very simple game. It’s more tactical if there are multiple players, so with only two of us the luck factor goes way up, but it has to be more interesting than studying the menu in great detail. So, you play it like this-” From being interested in the pretty pictures on the cards to gradually getting the rules over a couple rounds, Smiley finally enjoys some company. 99999 keeps drinking ponies under the table, all while enjoying cocktails provided by the bartender, some mixed only with the clear desire to get rid of unfinished bottles, which doesn’t bother the drone in the slightest. After even the most hopeful challengers give up, 99999 joins the band with its harmonica, turning the rehearsed music into some weird improvisation. Due to its honest interest, the band members let the drone try out other instruments too, which lasts until one o’clock when the bar closes, the band packs it up, and Coltsy leads the changelings to their new, first class coupe. After Smiley and 99999 wash their hooves in the full basin, the eventful day finally ends with them curled up in one ball under the blanket, backpacks still on their backs.