//------------------------------// // Out Of Options // Story: The Olive Branch and the Dragon's Claw // by SomeRandomMinion //------------------------------// The hatchery still managed to maintain a semblance of dignity despite the Hive's dire straits. Waves of heat and red light shone down from a large crystal in the ceiling--what was fueling it?--providing just enough clarity to see. The honeycombed holes lining the chamber's walls showed few signs of serious wear, and even some of the the empty ones--far too many--were mostly free of moss or erosion. A few brood-tenders skittered around the walls on chitinous legs, inspecting eggs or tending to the young, many of whom were crying. The crying didn't darken Chrysalis' mood, not immediately. Hearing the little creatures' wails had been normal for her, encouraging: it was the sound of the next brood; a new batch of soldiers and workers coming into the world to do her bidding. Now, it was just another reminder of her defeat; a sign of the Hive's decay despite the hatchery’s facade of repair. The cries were the worst: they were different now, more younglings crying for food or attention than squeals of fresh hatchlings just after escaping their eggs. There was desperation among the little ones, too; Chrysalis could hear it in their little buzzing voices, and taste vague snatches of the emotion on the air. It reminded her of gristly meat. (In a flash of insight, she realized that their desperation and hunger may have been helping to power the crystal above. The irony struck her as cruel.) There were fewer of the young as well, going by the empty holes in the chamber walls. Barely a swarm of drones, a pathetically small brood in hatching, and yet our numbers still outpace our food. Chrysalis was only vaguely aware of Kara calling out orders to the other tenders as the two trotted to the center of the room. Of course, food wouldn't be an issue if we hadn't given it as tribute to traitorous thugs. News of her defeat had spread at a disgusting rate. The first days back had been an endless procession of the Hive's so-called "allies" strong-hoofing her into "protection deals"--even those mongrel Diamond Dogs had returned, brandishing picks and axes, and taken away the jewels and crystals! But there had been no choice. From the turncoat griffons, who kept their nosy countrymen from poking around her territory, to the scattered enclaves of dragons she had supported, all had come to the injured, weakened Queen demanding some offering--be it food, the Hive's gems, or sometimes even younglings--in exchange for continuing to keep the Hive's location secret. Then and now, Chrysalis just didn't have a choice. They were bleeding her dry...but that was better than having an army of Celestia's Royal Guards or squads of griffon warriors on her doorstep. As long as she had something to bribe her "protectors," with at least. Chrysalis bared her fangs, fresh rage boiling up. If she could just get one more chance against those damnable ponies, a shot at avenging her swarm... “M’queen, now that you are here I--we, wish to...share a proposal with you,” Kara intoned, snapping Chrysalis out of her reverie. The yellow-eyed tender now stood in the center of the room, flanked by two drones and--Chrysalis blinked--a Praetor, who stood just behind Kara, half again bigger than the drones, watching the proceedings with cold, iron-gray eyes. Praetors were a special caste of males within the Hive, the commanders of drone-swarms and hunting parties. Swarms were--had been--far too large to command by oneself, and individual drones didn’t have much in the way of snap teamwork beyond ganging up on foes. Praetors solved that, each commanding their own units of drones, on the orders of their queen. Why was one here? Drones and especially Praetors almost never went to the hatchery, let alone associate with tenders beyond mating. Whatever this “proposal” was, someone had felt the need to break tradition--break the Changelings’ nature--drastically. Or it was just a coup attempt by a vengeful soldier against a shamed ruler; there was always that. All this went through Chrysalis’ mind in an instant. Aloud, she just answered, “Whose idea was it, and what exactly is your proposal?” The very idea of some tender or Praetor speaking so to their Queen! Any other time, they’d put it to the other Praetors instead of foisting on me. Kara and the Praetor exchanged looks, and Chrysalis felt a spark of fear and concern come off of them. Not that there are many Praetors able to confer with, at any rate. Unsurprisingly, it was the latter who spoke up. The big commander snapped to attention and announced, “Praetor Sark reporting, Majesty. This is primarily my doing, though I must admit that the female--forgive me, Kara--did help me form the idea. My...well, our proposal is...” Sark only paused for a second, face held steady, but there was short, sharp gush of pure fear from him. It had the acrid taste of a fear of death. “We propose to leave the Hive as envoys--just myself, Kara, and a few drones as protection--and seek out the Sun Goddess to sue for peace. It is a gambit, but if we succeed--” Kara cut him off, skittering closer to Chrysalis. The tender’s eyes were wild, almost bulging; fear, desperation and sadness poured from her like a flood from a broken levee. The rush of energy from the the tender, and the audacity of the act, left Chrysalis transfixed. “M’queen, please consider! We cannot placate the extortionist traitors forever, but if we convince Celestia to show some measure of mercy--she can have compassion for our kind, I know it!--we may have another chance!” Even the drones had gone wide-eyed now, but Kara continued: “as Sark said, this is a gamble; we go on a chance. But, we believe, me especially, that it can be done. For all her zeal and fury for protecting her subjects, Celestia is cursed with a soft heart; after all she merely sealed her mad sister away, rather than end the danger the other mare posed.” For a while, the group was quiet. For the first horrible moments, Kara and Sark feared hideous deaths from their Queen’s inevitable rage--but then they truly saw her face, blank and cloudy with introspection; not a trace of anger. The energy radiating from her was...chaotic, almost no coherent emotions. That wasn’t much, but it meant they wouldn’t die for announcing their plan--not immediately anyway. Suddenly the Queen’s faraway gaze sharpened, looking around the chamber--the wailing young, the stone walls, and empty chambers--before settling (no, targeting or impacting was more like it) on Kara and Sark. Her expression was still unreadable, but the green eyes narrowed to slits. The emotions were as jumbled as before, but tightly controlled. When Chrysalis spoke, her voice might have come from a machine. “Very well. If you think Celestia holds better prospects than our current associates”--even Kara scowled at the mention of the traitors--”then you may go. Praetor Sark, you may select a small cohort of drones as an escort. Tender Kara, you will make it absolutely clear that you will be the only tender to leave the Hive; none are to follow you or offer assistance on your journey. Am I clear? Do you two understand your orders?” “Yes Majesty,” they chorused. Chrysalis gave a firm nod. “Good. You will make preparations immediately, and head south for Canterlot once prepared, at sunrise. When...or if, Celestia receives you, propose whatever terms the two of you have conceived--don’t bother asking for my approval; we cannot afford to sully this gambit with internal arguments.” Internally, she added, It’s not as if Celestia would accept anything besides the Hive being reduced to vassalhood, at any rate. Assuming she’ll spare us at all, that is. Not bothering to dismiss the two, she turned and began trotting out of the sweltering chamber, the crystal’s red glow dancing across her green eyes. Just before reaching the exit, without turning around: “Tender Kara. You said Celestia was soft-hearted, correct? Because she would not slay one of her kin, despite the danger she posed?” “Yes, m’queen; what of it?” Briefly, Chrysalis reflected on how none in the Hive would have spoken to her so directly before now--another reminder of her fall. Aloud: “Consider this: Luna was not banished to the moon, she was sealed within it-- alive, but in stasis and immobile. For a thousand years. That was her sister, as you know; leaving her alive was a mercy.” Chrysalis hadn’t turned around, but the sudden stab of fear from Kara was undeniable...but tempered by a stubborn, desperate kind of hope. “Then, there’s Discord. A similar fate, turned to stone...but he wasn’t in stasis. She meant to have him frozen and powerless--and completely aware of it. Forever.” Again fear warred with hope, neither getting an edge. The tender’s inner conflict was...delicious. But that wasn’t why Chrysalis had spoken again. This time, the pitch-black mare did turn, fixing her green reptilian eyes squarely on Kara. They might have been the only two beings in the Hive. “Celestia is a being of love and compassion; you are correct there. But she is first and foremost a ruler, some would say a deity. So, she will do anything to protect her subjects and her kingdom--and that includes throwing aside the mercy and compassion that defines her. Her heart is soft--for her friends, allies and subjects. For her enemies...that is a different matter. Remember that, before you think of her as a savior. We are out of options, and you are right in creating another chance. For all our sakes, I hope you created the right one.” With that, Chrysalis strode out of the chamber’s heat and blood-red glow. The younglings' cries followed her through the tunnels, desperate and terrible.