It didn't take long for Celestia to summon Lieutenant Saber to the meeting room. As he came in, he glanced at Pincer, face unreadable. He moved to take a seat directly across from Pincer, but Celestia motioned him to one to the left. She herself sat opposite Pincer, whose hooves had been freed from their restraints.
"Lieutenant, you may begin," Celestia said.
Lieutenant Saber nodded. "Her Majesty has already given me your location and numbers. Now, how many ponies are being held in The Hive?"
Pincer looked at Saber and drew himself rigid. "About two hundred."
"And how are they guarded?"
"Each pony sustains a few pods, and one pod among those is responsible for keeping its own pony secure," Pincer said. "I suppose I should mention that a pod is composed of eight changelings plus a pod leader."
Saber leaned forward, laying a foreleg on the table. "Tell me more about the pods. Are they family groups? Work teams?"
Pincer nodded. "Yes, they're work teams. We get assigned to one depending on our skills once we're old enough, and we train and share living quarters with our podmates."
Saber tapped his hoof against the table. "What kinds of tasks do these pods specialize in? Are noncombatants expected to keep their own cocoons secure?"
"There are no noncombatants. We all fight."
"Your entire society is militarized, then."
Pincer shrugged. "I suppose. I never thought of it that way, though. It's just how we are."
Celestia let out a "hm," her eyes never leaving Pincer.
"But you do specialize," Saber prodded. "What jobs do the different pods do?"
Pincer explained how the pods were grouped into clusters, each of which was oriented towards a broader skill range than the individual pods. He ran through all of the different areas he could recall — scouting, hoof-to-hoof fighting, long-term passive espionage, impersonation of a specific target, capture of food sources, internal security, Hive construction and maintenance, child rearing, and medicine among them. When he described how unproductive workers and unfit soldiers were assigned to Cluster Thirty-two for the most dangerous work, Saber's eyes widened, and Celestia's narrowed.
"Her cruelty even to her own subjects goes farther than I'd thought," Celestia said. "Saber, please continue."
Saber nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty. Now, Pincer, I want you to give me the layout of The Hive in as much detail as possible. I'll fetch you a quill and some paper."
This proved more difficult to answer than the other questions. As he took the quill between his teeth, Pincer found himself wishing that he could transform; gryphon claws could have comfortably gripped it. But having no other option, he started inking out a map.
There were many parts of The Hive that Pincer had never been to, and he had no way to know their layout. While he could reasonably trust his memory for the parts of The Hive he regularly went to, such as his living quarters, his cluster's training area, and the path to The Hive's entrance, there were also places he'd been to only infrequently, such as the medical chambers or Commander Formic's lair. Even among the areas he remembered perfectly, there was the difficulty of mapping a three-dimensional environment onto a flat surface. The Hive was not organized neatly into level stories like an Equestrian building; rather, chambers could be dug out at any depth, with connecting tunnels sloping as necessary.
Finally he let the quill fall onto the table and nudged the sheaf of papers toward Saber. Saber spread them out in front of himself and Celestia, and the two began a whispered conversation. Occasionally, one or the other would tap a hoof on some part of the map. Pincer turned away from them to let them work uninterrupted, counting the scrolls piled on one of the shelves in an attempt to pass the time.
"Alright, Pincer," Celestia finally said. "Thank you for cooperating. We'll be keeping your sketches for future reference. Lieutenant, do you have any more questions for him?"
"Yes, Your Majesty." Saber leaned forward, gathering the scattered papers into a pile. "I want to know about the movements of changeling infiltrators in Equestria. How many are there?"
Pincer straightened himself. "What do you plan to do with them?" he asked flatly.
"They'll receive the same treatment you have, of course," Celestia said. "Are there so many of them that we can't keep them in the dungeons here?"
"There are," Pincer said. "But not more than I could point you to. There are usually a few hundred of us in Equestria at a time, but I couldn't tell you how to find us all. They don't tell me more than I need to know."
"How much would you be able to tell us, then?" asked Saber.
Pincer's eyes flickered towards the door.
"How do changelings work their way into a community? How do they get back out?" Saber asked a bit more loudly.
Pincer locked eyes with him. "We... we're trained to survive in the wilderness. We sneak in through there until we reach a road, then travel normally to the town we've been assigned.
"We usually go to a city. There, we just blend in, find a place to live and a job like a pony would. In a city, there are so many ponies coming and going that no one notices a few new faces. It means it can take longer to notice ponies that have... gone missing, too.
"Then there's small communities, like the farming towns or frontier settlements. It's more noticeable when a pony goes missing from there, but it's usually not as far to take them to The Hive."
"And how do you get them back to The Hive?" Saber asked. He took a quill in his mouth and began scribbling notes on the back of one of Pincer's maps.
"Well, we wait until we're alone with a good target, and then we immobilize them." Memories of himself gagging thrashing, wide-eyed ponies and tying them up or sinking his teeth into one of their legs flashed in his mind, and he suppressed a cringe. "Then we load them into a heavy bag or a cart and sneak them into a recovery point out in the wilderness. From there, other drones take them to The Hive."
Saber spat the quill out. "Where are these recovery points?"
"I can't give you any specific ones," Pincer said. "We never use the same place twice. They're always in places that are hard or impossible to see from the air, though. Usually forests or caves... or ravines."
Saber scrawled down a final note. "Alright. No further questions."
"Very well," Celestia said. "Pincer, is there anything else you'd like to say before we conclude?"
Pincer scuffed a hoof against the table. "Celestia, would it be alright if I spoke to Saber alone?"
Saber looked at Pincer, eyebrows faintly knitted.
"Lieutenant, would you find that acceptable?" Celestia asked.
After briefly scrutinizing Pincer, Saber nodded. "I can't see the harm in it. He won't get very far if he tries anything," he said, giving Pincer a glance.
"If you're sure, then," Celestia said, rising from her seat. "I'll be just outside if anything goes wrong." With that, she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Saber looked across the table at Pincer. "So, what is it?"
"It's..." Pincer tried to whip his thoughts into order. "I wanted to ask you to... well, I know you don't have complete authority as a lieutenant. But you're with the Royal Guard, and I think you'll listen to me, so I think I can tell you—"
"What is it you want?" Saber asked flatly.
Pincer cringed. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to waste your time. It's about the other changelings."
Saber looked at Pincer, expression neutral. Pincer continued, "I know what we've been doing to you is terrible. I know you're doing the right thing, going in and saving those prisoners. And I know drones will probably die.
"Do what you have to, but you should remember, I used to be just like them. Some of them were my friends, and they helped me when I was struggling with my training and my commander threatened to beat me, or when I was worried that I might be sent to Cluster Thirty-Two, or when I just needed someone to talk to. If we can only make them see you as people and show them that they don't have to fight you, they'll come around like I did."
Pincer took a breath, then locked eyes with Saber. "You — Equestria — gave me a second chance. If I deserve one, don't the others?"
For a moment, Saber was silent. Slowly, he raised his front legs onto the table and began to lightly tap his hooves together.
"If I've learned anything about the Royal Guard during my service, it's that we're anything but a band of thugs. Our mission will be to rescue the prisoners. We'll only do as much fighting as we need to, and if anyone under my command goes out for revenge, I'll deal with them myself. You have my word on that."
Pincer was no longer looking at Saber. His head had slowly dropped until he found himself staring into his front legs, which were drawn close to his chest. His thoughts had turned to Scarab and Antenna, and what they would have said if they'd been in the room.
The image was swept away when Saber said, "Did you have anything else you wanted to ask about?"
Pincer looked up and shook his head. "No, nothing. Thanks, Lieutenant."
"Certainly." Saber slid off of his seat and started for the door. Pincer opened his mouth and raised a hoof, but his words lodged in his throat. It seemed as though saying them aloud would be treason, but how could it be any more treasonous than what he'd already done?
"Hey."
Pincer forced the word out just as Saber raised a leg to push open the door. He let his hoof fall to the ground and gave Pincer an expectant look.
"Good luck," Pincer said quietly.
A smile flickered on Saber's face before his usual firm gaze returned. "Thank you."
After Saber and Pincer left the room, Celestia summoned a pair of unicorn guards to shackle him once again and lead him back to his cell. In the corridor leading to the dungeon, they passed Twilight.
"I told her," he said to her, chains clanking as he came to a stop. The guards did likewise, but he could feel their stares. "I told her everything. Everything about The Hive. She'll be sending soldiers. It was all I could do."
"Oh..." Twilight's eyes wandered everywhere except Pincer. "Did you. Well, I'll, uh, see what happens then. But I was actually getting ready to head back to Ponyville for a while." She began to slowly step back. "I have some work I need to do in the library. I've been in Canterlot so long, I've fallen a bit behind on it." By the time she finished her sentence, she was briskly trotting away.
Pincer didn't have to use his training to know she was lying. He felt no love from her.
Pincer was not privy to the details of Celestia's plan, but she regretfully told him that she would have to confine him to the castle grounds to ensure its success. If he accidentally said something about what she now knew, it could possibly make it back to The Hive. He understood the precaution but hoped that things would return to normal soon.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he realized that "normal" had gone, and it wasn't coming back. He'd crossed a point of no return when he told Celestia and Saber all of the secrets he'd sworn to protect since he was a larva. Part of him burned in shame about it. After all, even if things turned out as he hoped and Celestia was true to her word, he had an obligation that he'd failed to keep. His conscience gnawed at him, telling him that he deserved death and that, if Chrysalis knew, she would have put him to death.
But Celestia wouldn't, and in many ways, he felt more like a subject of hers now than he did a subject of Chrysalis'. Even knowing everything he'd done, Celestia didn't seem to think that he deserved to have horrible things happen to him. In fact, with Twilight absent, she was the one who now allowed him to feed off of her positive feelings toward him so that he could live. He lived in her castle and he was working for her. Chrysalis had always loomed in the background for him, a distant, threatening figure whose imagined judgments had clouded his every decision. There wasn't as much room for her now, though. Celestia's judgments were pushing their way to the forefront, and they were easier to bear.
Despite the comfort of this, with Twilight gone and himself forbidden to leave the castle grounds, life fell into a depressing and familiar pattern. He would wake up each day and read books or pace the length of his cell, breaking only for food or sleep. While he could ask permission to leave the cell at any time, and would usually be granted it, there was little reason for him to do so. He was required to have four guards watching him at all times, making casual conversation with anyone all but impossible. More pressingly, there was nobody to have casual conversations with; he didn't know any of the ponies residing in the castle aside from a few of the guards, who had treated him coolly even before his escape attempt, and Princess Celestia, who was unable to take much time to see him.
The sole reason for Pincer to leave his cell, aside from the occasional exercise session for which they now bound his wings, was his limited access to the castle library. He was free to browse titles at his leisure and, if given approval, check them out. He used the opportunity to read further about theater. He'd already read much on the subject during his confinement, but the library had still more to offer. When he got tired of reading about Equestrian theater, he moved on to plays and performers of the gryphon kingdom, and when he got tired of reading about those, he read about theater among the zebra tribes. He found the latter especially interesting, because zebra performances tended to rely heavily on improvisation and interaction with the audience, both of which he required as a spy.
He wondered if things could improve to the point that he could be one of the performers on stage. He'd certainly had enough practice pretending to be something he wasn't, and as a changeling, he'd be able to mimic the appearance needed for just about any role he could imagine. If he were successful, he could even have thousands of fans, all showering him with their affection. He could feed as much as he wanted, and he'd have to take so little from any individual pony that they'd barely notice.
The fantasy gave a modicum of comfort as the days trickled by, but not enough to stop familiar and troubling thoughts from gnawing at him. Every day and every hour, fear over whether Celestia would keep her word and be merciful in victory gnawed at him. He had helped to set her plan in motion, and now he could do nothing to stop it. Over the course of days, his tension came to a boil, his mind spinning ever more vivid images of Celestia calling on the sun to burn The Hive to cinders. Within a week, any mention of the sun or the Royal Guard or Celestia in one of the books was enough to make him avert his eyes and flip the page with a trembling hoof.
After six weeks of this, he was shaken out of a fitful sleep one night by a hoof banging against the bars of his cell. He rolled off of his bed and stood facing his cell door. Vigilant Watcher was there, accompanied by a unicorn guard, who unlocked the door.
"We're taking you to solitary," Watcher said simply.
Cold dread crept down Pincer's back. "What? Why? And why now?" he asked. Had something he'd told them been inaccurate?
"For your safety," Watcher said. "The attack on The Hive started a few hours ago. We're expecting to bring in prisoners soon, and some of them will probably guess we had a bit of help from you."
Pincer pushed himself off of the bed, slowly falling into line between Watcher and the guard, too tired and too worried about the implications of her words to argue further.
"Equestria has found us! The enemy is in The Hive! Everyone into position!"
Antenna's eyes snapped open at Scarab's words. She leaped out of her crevice, a flurry of buzzing wings filling the air as seven other drones scrambled to join her. As soon as they touched ground, they galloped as one toward the exit leading out of the living quarters. Many of them looked among themselves as they went, as though unsure that an attack on their home was really happening.
Beyond their living quarters was a large network of curving, flowing corridors that spread and twisted and split like the roots of a plant. Antenna knew them like the bottom of her hoof, as did the rest of her pod and the nearby pods who were also filtering through. None of them would be very far from their quarters, but she still felt a twinge of fear whenever the passage split and she had to separate from one of the others. Would she ever see them again?
Antenna was alone by the time she reached a long, bending passage with space to fly. Her wings vibrated and she leaped into the air, looking along the tops of the walls and quickly finding a crevice, just tall enough to stand in and dug at an angle so that its occupant could see any intruders as they came. She flew into it and crouched, and a few seconds later was joined by Scarab.
It was here that they would make their stand. Other pods, pods that were specialized in combat, would be responsible for driving out the invaders and protecting the cluster commanders and Queen Chrysalis. Their job was to guard their own cocoon.
As the other drones got into their positions in crevices and around corners at dozens of ambush points across the web of tunnels, the distant echo of their thundering hooves tapered off. A deathly silence followed.
"When did you find out?" Antenna whispered. "We should've had more warning than this. What's going on?"
"Never heard from our sentries," Scarab said in a low voice. "No one even knew they were here 'til they'd already gotten inside."
"Well, how many of them are there? No way the night patrol's stupid enough to miss an army coming."
"Enough that it looks like they're moving to finish us off. I don't know how they could've found all of the scouts and stopped them from sounding the alarm." Scarab shifted his legs. "Unless..."
"He wouldn't."
Scarab took a breath. "I don't like to think it, either. I trained him and I taught him since he was old enough to join a pod. There's no other way Equestria could've found us so quickly and coordinated an attack like this, though. They had help, and he's the only one who was never accounted for."
"But why would he?" Antenna asked. "He was right there with the rest of us at the wedding, and he fought as hard as any of us. What could they do to him that would make him sell us out?"
Scarab shook his head. "I wish I knew, Antenna. We might never know. Maybe if we make it through this, you'll get a chance to ask him yourself someday."
Antenna scanned the hall below, trying to push the thought of Pincer out of her head.
"I always wondered, why did you never want to be transferred to Cluster Seven with your flight scores?" Scarab suddenly whispered.
"Shouldn't we be quiet, Pod Leader?" Antenna asked. "If any come by, they might hear us." Her wings twitched. "That, and I can't really say I'm in a talking mood."
"We'll hear them before they hear us," Scarab said. "It's very likely they'll pass another ambush point first, and even if they don't, their armor will give them away. You know how sound carries in here."
Antenna looked away from Scarab. "Alright, fine. You said something about Cluster Seven?"
Scarab nodded. "All those pod leaders in that cluster asking me to trade you for one of theirs. I always wondered why you didn't want it."
Antenna's wings twitched again. "It was tempting, I've gotta admit. I never really talked about it, but I actually like flying more than I do sneaking. The chance to prove myself where I'm best, maybe become a pod leader, it sounded nice.
"But I always thought about you guys. 'Course you already know this, but you've got something going on you'd have a hard time finding anywhere else in The Hive. I mean, letting me choose whether or not I'd be traded out proves that.
"And I think it's kind of rubbed off on the rest of us. We know how things are here and we know we can trust each other, and most importantly, we know that we're all weak sometimes in some ways and yelling and threatening us doesn't do a thing to fix it."
Scarab nodded. "I just wish our Queen could see that. Do you remember how nervous Odanata was, when she was assigned to the pod to replace Pincer? It's hard to fight for something you're terrified of. You start looking for a way out. The first time she came to talk to me willingly, I knew she was ready to give everything."
Before Antenna could reply, the sounds of shouting and clattering armor came faintly from somewhere ahead. Antenna planted her hooves firmly on the ground, front legs bent low. Her wings stiffened.
"Antenna, you've made me proud," Scarab said, similarly readying himself. "You all have."
Within seconds, the sounds of fighting tapered off, and the uneven banging of the armor was replaced by a steady clanking that was unmistakably growing louder. The already heavy pounding of Antenna's heart seemed to grow more intense in turn. She stared unblinkingly at the entrance to the hallway, trying to visualize the ponies coming in and determine the best time to leap.
Antenna heard the rapping of hooves on stone getting louder and closer. A moment later, a pair of white-coated pegasi clad in shining golden armor emerged from around the corner and steadily walked down the hallway. Their ears swiveled forward, and their eyes swept the corridor ahead. They were followed from a few body lengths behind by two armored, slate-gray unicorn stallions marching in lock step.
"On my word," Scarab breathed, "we'll hit the unicorns." He was wound like a tight spring, legs bent as far as they would go and posture locked in place, as though he were a snake ready to bite. Antenna watched the guards unblinkingly, calculating as precisely as she could the needed angle of descent.
For what seemed like an eternity, the pegasi and unicorns took slow, careful steps down the length of the corridor. They glanced upward several times, and each time, Antenna's heart felt as though it would stop, but they went unnoticed. The pegasi had just disappeared underneath the crevice and the unicorns were a few paces away from doing the same when Scarab whispered, "now!"
Like a bowstring being released, Antenna's legs shot out, catapulting her off of the ledge. She pointed herself at the ground and pumped her wings so hard her back hurt, coming down on the unicorn to her right at a nearly vertical dive. Scarab was with her, having made his own jump in near unison.
"Above!" cried one of the unicorns. Their horns began to glow golden and they started to step back, but Antenna and Scarab came crashing down on them. The guard Antenna had struck was reeling, trying to plant its hooves and stay standing. She seized its neck and angled her wings to jerk left. The pony fell to the ground, helmet knocked askew. Landing on top of it, she raised her hoof and brought it down on its exposed cheek as hard as she could. There was a cry, and droplets of blood and spit splashed onto her leg.
Leaving the unicorn to cradle its head in its front hooves, and seeing that Scarab's target was also lying on the ground, Antenna turned just in time to see the pegasi closing in on them. She vibrated her wings and tried to lift off, but she'd barely left the ground before one of the pegasi slammed into her headfirst. She stumbled back as she landed, her hooves scrabbling for a firm grip. As fast as a cracking whip, the stallion turned around and shot out its rear legs. She leapt back, its hooves coming close enough to her head that she felt the wind from their movement.
In the time it took the stallion to drop its legs and face Antenna, she had regained her balance. Next to them, Scarab was bleeding profusely from his mouth, but he was forcing the other guard back with quick, precise blows from both pairs of hooves. Antenna's wings buzzed, and this time she was unable to lift off into the air uninterrupted. The pegasus unfurled and flapped its own wings, rising to meet her.
Antenna couldn't help grinning. An aerial battle would be dangerous in such a narrow, confined space, but that would put the pegasus at a disadvantage, too. Victory would go to the better flyer, and she'd be damned if she was going to be outflown by prey.
Antenna did a quick rise and dove at the pegasus, but it was ready. It flew up and away from her, leaving her charging into thin air, and she had to angle down sharply to avoid its hooves. Momentum drove her down even as she swung her back legs forward to brake, and she stopped just inches away from the ground. Ascending again, she twisted to the side just in time to dodge another blow. She used the chance to fly up so that she was level with her enemy.
What followed was a flurry of movement from both of them, left and right, forward and backward, front legs kicking and blocking as each tried to land a solid blow on the other. Before long, the sound of Antenna's own breathing became deafening to her, her heart pounding at the strain of flitting aside the enemy's lightning-fast strikes, thrusting her legs at it, and staying aloft began to grind away her vigor.
Finally, gasping from the effort, Antenna drove a hoof into the pegasus' neck. It hacked and coughed and began wavering, and she charged headlong into it before it could recover. Seconds later, they fell to the ground, Antenna on top with the pegasus splayed on its back beneath her. With a triumphant shout, she bared her fangs and lunged for its neck. But at the last second, Antenna was struck in the side by some impossible blow, exactly where her wing connected to her back. There was a sound like tearing paper, and she hissed as her wing joint exploded in pain. She was struck again, this time in the side of the head, and was sent rolling off of the guard.
Antenna could feel that her right wing was bent at an unnatural angle, and she was thankful that she was able to brace herself against the ground before she rolled far enough to put any pressure on it. Scrambling to stand, she turned to look at her assailant.
Her heart sank when she saw that it was the pegasus Scarab had been dueling with. What had happened to Scarab, then? She didn't have time to dwell on the question; the pegasus, limping slightly and bleeding from its nose, was advancing on her. Meanwhile, the other was getting back to its hooves.
She swung at the pegasi as they came close, but her movements were limited by her wing joint's screaming protests. Her enemies, not being similarly handicapped, batted aside her front legs all too quickly. The instant her defenses were down, they drove their hooves into her face, her neck, her chest, her sides, her legs, over and over, each blow hurting worse than the last. One came down on her wing joint from above, and then she was huddled on the ground, at the mercy of ponies. Her mind couldn't be bothered to register it. The only thing that mattered now was the blinding pain in her wing.
As the sharpest of Antenna's agony began to dull, she heard the pegasi speaking.
"—both of them."
"Check on Star and Winter."
Hooves clapped on stone. Out of the corner of her eye, Antenna saw the uninjured pegasus kneel over the unicorn she had defeated.
"Winter? Hey, can you hear me? Come on, get up." The pegasus prodded the unicorn with a hoof, then shook its head and looked at the other pegasus. "He's out, sir."
The lower-ranking pegasus walked over to the other unicorn and tried similarly to wake it up, but to no avail. It muttered something under its breath, then turned expectantly to its commander.
"Alright. We're carrying them out of here," the commander said. "We wouldn't stand a chance if we tried to get the mare out ourselves."
"Sir, what about the bugs? They're still alive." Antenna's heart leapt; Scarab wasn't dead!
"We can't capture them without a unicorn," the pegasus continued, "and if we leave them, they might get back up and hit us while we're carrying Star and Winter, sir."
The other pegasus, apparently an officer, looked between Antenna and Scarab. There was a slight pause before it said anything, but before it even opened its mouth, a horrible certainty seized Antenna.
"Alright. Kill them."
Antenna swallowed a cry as the lower-ranking pegasus agreed and began to trot towards her. Its pace was slow, leisurely, almost mocking. She began to push herself to her hooves, hoping she could get into a fighting stance before it could reach her. Her broken wing screamed its protests, but it would have to wait.
It didn't matter. As soon as she stirred, the pegasus quickened its pace. She'd barely lifted her front legs before it brought a hoof down on her head. Her face bounced against the ground, and she was dizzied.
Antenna felt a spike of pain as a sudden pressure came down on her wing, and she knew it was over. Even so, she wriggled and snapped her fangs at the leg pinning her, not caring if she had to break her wing off completely to escape, but to no avail. The pegasus had one front leg pinning her right where it had broken, and the other front leg was raising, raising, like the blade of a guillotine, about to fall on her head.
Then Scarab stood up.
The pegasus turned with a start, and its leg dangled in midair as it looked at him with wide eyes. Steady trails of blood leaked from sickeningly wide cracks in Scarab's face. He paid them no mind as he steadily crept towards the pegasus, red-tinged fangs bared. It looked between Antenna and Scarab, and she felt the pressure on her side ease.
The higher-ranking pegasus ran in front of Scarab, but it was too late. In one smooth motion, Antenna twisted herself loose, turned her head, and sank her teeth into the leg that had been pinning her. The pegasus shouted and tried vainly to wrench itself free. As hard as it tugged, her grip held firm, so it began to kick at her wing with its other front leg.
The other pegasus landed a blow to Scarab's face with its good front leg, splashing droplets of blood against its hoof. Scarab didn't even seem to register the kick, rearing before buffeting the pegasus with both front hooves. It began to back away from the assault, but Scarab used the chance to lift off. He struck its snout from above and it reeled, and then he dove down and tackled it to the ground. Seizing his chance, he kicked it in the face and neck repeatedly, not relenting until its shouts died off. Then, Scarab stood up and turned toward the other pegasus and Antenna. The officer didn't get back up.
Antenna had not released her enemy. Now outnumbered, it grew frantic in its escape efforts, straining itself pulling against her jaws and striking every part of her it could reach with its free front hoof. Sheer determination locked Antenna's grip in place, and it wasn't long before Scarab was in front of it, throwing kicks that it couldn't defend against. Finally the pegasus fell, and for a few seconds, the only sounds were Scarab's wheezing breaths. He suddenly reeled, struggling to steady himself.
"S—Scarab," Antenna said as she gingerly stood up, voice shaking. "Are you all right?"
"I'll be okay," Scarab said quietly.
"But your face," Antenna said, raising a hoof. "We have to get you to the medical cluster."
"No, Antenna. I won't let you try to fight your way there. It would be too much of a risk even without that broken wing."
"Too much of a risk to save my pod leader from possibly bleeding to death?" Antenna narrowed her eyes.
"Yes, Antenna. Better one dead drone than two."
"Better no dead drones than one."
"Antenna, forget it. We'll go back to our quarters and do what we can there. That's an order. Understood?"
"But..." Antenna swallowed, eyes tracing over the ugly, wet gashes in Scarab's face. "Yes, Pod Leader."
Scarab nodded, turned, and began to walk away. Antenna tailed him as slowly as she could, but not slowly enough to prevent a jabbing pain in her wing at every step.