5: Obviously, it couldn't last.
Exactly how it is possible that someone of Cromach’s stature and color has remained mostly unnoticed during the mingler might forever be shrouded in mystery. However, if there was someone who would notice the white griffon loitering behind a pillar in the corner of the ballroom then it would be the grey griffon leader currently approaching him at casual pace.
A keen observer would notice the griffons wearing almost the same clothing - a simple yet comfortable black jacket. However, where the grey griffon’s one is tastefully decorated with gold ornaments, Cromach’s design uses silver embroidery with an added symbol of a silver sun on his back.
Contrary to everyone in the room bowing or at least giving a courteous nod to the Griffon Empire steward, Cromach offers him only a quick salute, which the griffon returns with a faint smile.
“You don’t look happy to be here, your Holiness,” Cromach smirks.
“Emperor’s infinitely sharp sight, don’t call me that, ambassador Cromach,” the griffon makes a fake throwing up noise.
“You should rather be saying Emperor’s hopefully empty diaper, shouldn’t you, Vargaz?”
The current steward of the Griffon Empire, the head of the Imperial Secret Service known as Black Ops, and thus likely the most influential creature attending the ball and possible in the world, ticks off an invisible item on an invisible pad with an invisible pen.
“Execution order resumed. Keep talking, agent, keep talking...”
Contrary to the words said, Cromach just laughs.
“I could use the practice, Vargaz, trust me. I’d take assassins over bureaucracy any day now. That way I’d be responsible only for myself, not the slightly prolonged existence of the whole world.”
Vargaz give Cromach a courteous bow.
“I haven’t had the chance to say my condolences, what with taking care of the young Emperor. The Emperor and the Empire owe you and your late lover a lot.”
“Considering that Crowley was being taken over by Nightmare, the whole world does. All I’m saying is that it would be nice not to have to balance the Order’s budget every quarter of a year after what Blaze, Connie, I, and others did.”
“I am turning a blind eye to your using Black Ops money for Silver Sun funding, Cromach. Considering you’re working for Equestria, that’s technically high treason.”
“I told you already, send some assassins, I could use the cardio. As long as you send me a good accountant with them,” Cromach shrugs.
“I would assume your princesses would have provided someone experienced if you asked,” Vargaz tilts his head.
“Considering that Celestia pretty much caused Blaze’s death, and that due to her idiocy we had to fight the whole Vigil elite on our own, I try to avoid working for her as much as I can. She admitted her fault, but that won’t bring him back now, will it?”
“Then what brings you here if not her orders?” Vargaz looks around, “Some suspected dark threats?”
“Nothing even remotely substantial,” Cromach waves his talons dismissively, “Celestia just wants a show of power during the summit, and Silver Sun seems to mean something these days. It’s free buffet, and I thought my new team could use a break. Last time we were in Canterlot, it wasn’t much of a vacation. Personally, I hate these events as much as you do.”
“Only six more years,” Vargaz chuckles, nodding, “Then the Emperor will be of age to lead, and I can go back to scheming behind the scenes,” he snaps his talons as if remembering something important, “Before I forget, the accountant thing. I can be of help.”
Cromach raises his eyebrow skeptically.
“Come on, the last thing I need is to have to keep an eye on a Black Ops agent doing my finances and sending all reports about what we do back to the Empire.”
“You wound me, Cromach,” Vargaz puts a foreleg to his chest, faking a hurt expression, “Or you would if that wasn’t exactly what I would do normally. However, my word needs to be worth more than gold and gems these days, or the noble families will tear the Empire apart. If you need a perfect accountant, I will provide. No questions asked, for free, no reports to me or anyone else but you. I don’t take my debts lightly, especially big ones like what we owe to you.”
“I’ll consider it. How are things in the Empire anyway?”
“Eventful, as usual,” Vargaz shrugs, and examines the pony food on the table, “As it turns out, Crowley had supporters among the nobles, many of whom used Emhyr’s death to steal some power from their neighbors. Unfortunately, they have much less noble intentions than he had. He would have made such a good Emperor if he didn’t become the pawn of an evil god. Oh well, such is life...” the griffon sighs, “It would be a blessing if you could marry some highborne daughter and move back to the Empire. Or son, although that would be harder to defend, but some nobles do worse things on daily basis. You’d be alright, hero and all.”
“I’m happily in a relationship again, actually, and I like Equestria,” from the corner of his eye, Cromach notices three newcomers to the ball who didn’t suffer the misfortune of having their names called out by the usher, “Speak of the devil, there she goes. The unicorn,” he nods the way of Anvil, Astray, and Connie slowly walking towards him.
Vargaz whistles.
“Oh my. Lucky you, although-”
“The minotaur sleeps with the other guy,” Cromach adds with a smirk.
“I take that back, lucky him,” Vargaz nods approvingly, “I think I should visit Rift at some point while I’m still young if that lady isn’t a complete outlier,” he pats Cromach’s shoulder, “Anyway, they seem to be looking for you, so I’ll go meet the zebra delegates. I’m pretty sure that the one with the dark blue military trench coat and gold buttons is a successor to a dictator my agents killed earlier this year. I need to call in few private favors.”
Cromach watches the leaving griffon, undisturbed by his comments. Soon, though, a much more pleasant sight reveals itself as Anvil, Astray, and Connie finally arrive. With a smug and quite openly pervy smile he lets his eyes linger on Anvil who is fully clothed, which in her case only means even more jaws dropped everywhere around than usual.
She’s wearing tight white pants, which somehow manage to leave even less to imagination than when she’s naked, dark blue jacket with silver buttons and deep cleavage, and for some reason a tricorn hat. On her, it fits. Although anything showing half of what this fancy outfit does would look absolutely stunning.
Connie, on the other talon, opted for a much simpler outfit - a white shirt tucked into a pair of tight, shimmering, black pants. Considering that she has much less to show than Anvil, the same style looks actually remotely decent. Her white mane is tied into a simple, slick ponytail showing her long neck, pretty much the only feature that would make any attendee of the ball look at her over Anvil.
Astray’s clothes are a lot more flowing and airy in comparison to the tightly compressed females with him, which makes sense because he isn’t too keen on showing his ass around, although considering how exotic he must look to most occupants of the ballroom, there certainly are mares giving him impressed stares. He’s wearing simple grey pants with silver flower petal embroidery on their outer sides, and a black shirt with top buttons popped open.
None of the three are visibly armed, but Cromach knows his team. If anything happens, they will be ready.
“Well, you’ve certainly captivated my attention as well as everyone else’s,” the griffon smirks, “And even without the screaming idiot calling out your names. I wasn’t so lucky, and my ears are still ringing. Speaking of big ears, where’s Bubbles?”
Connie levitates four glasses of punch, one for each of them. As she’s busy, Anvil answers:
“Sneaking around,” Anvil points at the small demonette currently hiding behind a pillar on the other side of the room, “Said something about keeping an eye on the new changelings.”
“Wait, what?” Cromach blinks, successfully avoiding spitting out the punch ins surprise and ruining someone’s clothes. Then he waves his foreleg, “Eh, nevermind. By the way, the food is free, so have fun, but if anything happens, don’t kick ass on stuffed stomach. You might get the cramps.”
“Orders received,” Anvil salutes, grinning, “There are few zebras drooling my way, and judging by the scowling of one of Darkhorn’s minotaurs, he’s the more traditional sort who thinks us females should be only firekeepers stuck at home. I think I’ll parade around for a while.”
Astray clears his throat.
“You know, we can do something other than cause havoc,” he nods to the stage in the back, “Care for a dance?”
“You can dance?” she flicks his ear.
“A little,” he shrugs, “Not that I had a chance to practice since I left the orphanage, but it’s not like they can play anything difficult to dance to since there are so many different species attending. The question is, can you dance?”
“Hah, you’re asking me if I can dance?” Anvil crosses her arms on her chest, and then breathes out, “No, I actually can’t,” she laughs at Astray’s stunned expression, “What? I had you for a second there, didn’t I?”
“Hope you brought your paladin sabatons,” Cromach adds with a touch of friendly sadism.
“I doubt I will need those, sir,” Astray gives him a soft but reassuring smile, “Both Anvil and I do martial arts with the best grandmaster in the world. We can coordinate during a simple dance,” he winks at Anvil, and takes her hand, “Shall we?”
They give Connie their emptied glasses, which the unicorn levitates back on the table.
“That’s gonna be quite a show...” she comments, pouring herself a second glass already.
“So are you if you don’t slow down with that punch. I mean, it’s almost alcohol-free, but you’re a serious lightweight,” Cromach absentmindedly grabs Connie’s ponytail and twirls it in his talons.
“Heh, now that I don’t need liquid courage to ask you out, I think I can handle myself,” she whistles innocently, recalling how incredibly wasted she got during their friends’ and ex-teammates’ wedding last year when she wanted to tell Cromach how she felt about him for the first time, “Oh boy, here it comes,” her attention turns to Astray quietly gasping at Anvil’s first step straight on his fetlock, “Martial arts coordination my ass.”
“Wanna join them so that they aren’t the only ones limping tomorrow?” Cromach winks at her.
“Nah,” Connie shakes her head, “Unlike Anvil, I don’t need the attention of the whole room on myself. I just need yours,” she gives Cromach a peck on his cheek.
“I wouldn’t be getting all kissy with me,” the griffon wraps his foreleg around her shoulders, “I just ate that garlic mini-sausage.”
She just leans against him and shakes her head. If this is going to be a boring few hours, it’s going to be few warm, boring hours.
Bubbles, thankfully having avoided being stuck into any tight clothing, and left only with a collar decorated with a silver sun, keeps lurking by the sides of the ballroom, namely where the food tables are. For some reason, there was a string of sausages hidden under the long tablecloth. It was all slobbery with something blue and minty, but delicious anyway, and no one saw Bubbles eat it which was a bonus.
“The patrol should be coming in ten seconds, get ready...” she hears a devious voice followed by a lot of industrial-tier gurgling. Peeking from under the tablecloth, she notices four absolutely huge changeling legs, and crawls from underneath the long table, which reveals a changeling, duh, as tall as Anvil sticking her head out of the corner window, with a much smaller changeling on her back now counting quietly, “Three… two… one...”
The big changeling loudly burps out a thick cloud of red bubbles which is thankfully drowned out by the sound of live music inside. Outside, though, it literally makes the unicorn guard just clearing the corner teleport backwards and scream:
“CODE TWO-ONE-ONE, EXPLOSION IN THE BALLROOM, I REPEAT-” he stops when he hears the changelings laughing out loud with the large one foaming red out of her nose and ears for some reason, “Hey, what was that supposed to be?!”
The changelings quickly close the window and, as if nothing happened, move to the opposite end of the ballroom.
Bubbles can’t help smiling from ear to ear which, unfortunately for his poor heart, is the first thing the guard sees when he gathers the courage to peek into the window again. She immediately realizes what her oversized and oversharp teeth do to unsuspecting ponies, but the guard is already on the grass, clutching his chest.
Few black blurs rush over to the collapsed pony and start poking him from all sides. Bubbles resumes beaming, realizing that the tiny black heads mirror her own smile on a smaller scale. She opens the window and waves.
“Hi, Eleven,” she looks up as she hears soft buzzing, ”Hi, Three!”
“Oh hey, Bubbles,” Three waves back, “How’s the big celebration going?”
After making sure the guardspony is groaning and breathing, Eleven forms a pyramid to be able to peek inside through the window. Bubbles pats the head of the top one who nuzzles her claw.
“It’s a bit boring, to be honest,” Bubbles shrugs, “Why aren’t you inside? There’s a bunch of changelings already there.”
“Oh yeah, we know. We saw Two and Cryo in the window, so we came for a chat, but then everything went red and bubbly, and when it cleared they were gone.”
“The huge one with light blue mane and a small one with red mane?” Bubbles leans back inside to see the duo stalking a servant carrying a tray of multicolored drinks. How can someone be so quiet and sneaky with that size is somewhat of an intriguing mystery to the demonette. It must be a changeling thing.
“Yep, that’s them,” Three nods, “And we can’t go in. Miss One said that this was an important meeting, not a daycare center, so we’re out here with Eleven, exploring.”
“I wish I was out there too...” Bubbles frowns, “Miss Anvil and Astray are dancing, sir Cromach is chatting with princess Luna and miss Connie, and all the dignitaries look super stuffy or busy. Well, there was one grey griffon who scratched me behind an ear and didn’t smell scared. Wait! I’ll go ask sir Cromach if I can go outside. He said nothing bad was probably going to happen,” Bubbles rushes off to badger two figures Three doesn’t know and princess Luna.
The alicorn looks his way, and her jaw drops. Three waves at her, his glowing purple runes leaving lines in the air. She must remember him from the castle! Wait… he was dead when the princesses arrived, wasn’t he?
“Hello, princess! I’m not a ghost, I’m real!” he raises his voice, but Luna clearly doesn’t hear him, “I glow too! Wait, that’s what ghosts do...”
The white griffon waves his foreleg, which apparently grabs Luna’s attention, exchanges few words with the black and white unicorn mare accompanying them, and then Bubbles rushes back, and vaults through the window.
“Sir Cromach is okay with us hanging out. I’m supposed to give you a tour of the castle gardens.”
“Neat, let’s go!”
***
“-and finally, we also welcome changeling king Beard from the northern hive,” princess Celestia opens the business meeting.
It’s afternoon, it’s quiet, and I’m feeling a bit peckish. As it turns out, Chrysalis’ retinue brought charged love crystals which, sadly, they refused to share with us on the account of them being carefully measured to be enough for her changelings, because her hive still wasn’t in the best situation. In my opinion, I think One’s diplomatic downward right hook kinda closed the goodwill door for us. On the other hole, it’s not like we’re even remotely low on love, it’s just that without the occasional refresh, the body just wonders what’s going on.
Still, that concerns only me and One, because Three’s full and so is Eleven. Cryo is currently sleeping in her room, snoring multicolored bubbles, and Two is on the hunt in the city. We’ll be okay if she returns with something as well as later when we meet Three again. I couldn’t really take him to the business part of the summit as a snack, could I?
“We vouch for king Beard’s presence on this summit despite the north hive having no surface territory,” Shining Armor proclaims, supported by princess Cadance’s nodding.
Darkhorn rises afterwards.
“We can also attest to them being a relevant business partner to both us and the Crystal Empire.”
Zebra delegates do the same for the apparently new ones, and in the end Celestia does that for the azure dragoness by the name Ember, currently in charge of the Dragon Lands who looks equally nervous and bored which is somewhat of a feat, really.
One and Gem are sitting by my sides, and while One is quietly observing everyone, Gem is digging in a backpack containing several lists of potential tradeable materials and things dwarves in Brauheim could use. We’ll be doing business mostly on behalf of the dwarves, since we don’t exactly have anything we currently need.
The proceedings start with the leading griffon by the name Vargaz bringing up some forged steel treaty with Equestria, and as soon as he starts reading numbers, I realize that all my nervousness is gone.
It’s exactly like at home.
***
“Okay, guys, let’s take it from the top,” Seven facehoofs, “You have the knowledge. Six gave you everything you needed.”
A drone gathers itself from the floor of the tunnel, shaking its head in a daze.
“Well, we know how those things work,” a different drone points to a hoof-held power drill lying nearby, “But those are made for dwarves, not us. We’re not built like them.”
“That’s the defeatist inside you speaking!” Seven shakes his hoof in the air, “You can do it, you just have to get the grip of things. Digging the hive throne room is the most important thing there can be and, unfortunately, the plans require the throne room to be here in this section of baked volcanic granite. We have two weeks to do this, and I want it to be done by the time the boss comes back. I believe in you!”
One of the drones salutes, spurred on by Seven’s optimistic attitude. It walks over to the dropped power drill, fastens it to its forelegs, takes its position at the end of the tunnel, puts the… digging part to the wall, and clicks the starter button with its free hoof. It takes few seconds for the machine to start humming while the drone has its hooves in the slots by the handle, teeth grit in concentration. Soon it starts buzzing, then rumbling…
...and then the vibrating begins as the drill jumps to action, spinning and pumping like a cross of a simple drill and a pneumatic hammer. One-fifteen’s forelegs go numb within few seconds, and the power of the device starts flailing the drone behind itself. It holds on for several more seconds, and then flies off into the tunnel exactly like the drone attempting this before. The drill safety shuts down as soon as the drone’s hooves leave the handle, and with only few more jumps it lands on the floor along with the bouncing drone.
“Owww...” One-fifteen shakes its head, and looks at few knocked out teeth scattered on the floor, “Awww… now I look thilly.”
Seven rushes over to the drone. The last attempt ended with a dazed but unhurt One-Fourteen, this is worse. He puts a hoof on the drone’s head, and pours some love into it. One-Fifteen immediately fixes its mouth, and salutes.
“Thanks, Seven,” it glances in the way of the once again floored power drill, “I don’t wanna be a defeatist, I really don’t, but we’re not as strong and heavy as the dwarves, and that thing just kicks around too much. We can try digging this out the changeling way harder and without sleep if you and the infiltrators can get some more love, but that rock is just really hard,” he nods to the end of the tunnel.
“We wouldn’t make it in time anyway...” grunts Seven.
A warrior - One-eighteen, raises its hoof.
“Why is it so important that we’re done with the throne room before the boss is back? I mean, he himself said that time wasn’t of the essence.”
“True, true,” Seven nods, “but imagine how excited he’ll be if we have a place for him where he can live as our real boss, not as a guest of the dwarves.”
“Technically, he’s the king of dwarves as well, so the castle is his as well, isn’t it?” asks One-one, an infiltrator.
“Yes, but it’s not a changeling castle! That’s enough questions,” Seven scowls at the new infiltrator, “Now, if none of the drones are strong enough to use the dwarven equipment, we just have to be resourceful. Stand aside, I’ll show you how it’s done using a brain.”
Seven grabs a small piece of rock, and with his horn glowing, he transforms the rock into a stick of chalk with which he draws an uneven summoning circle on the floor. Thankfully, while the rest of the tunnel is jagged and basic, the floor is fairly smooth and even.
His focus is supreme despite all other changelings shuffling nervously away from him. After all, summoning a demon is nothing new to him, right? The glow of his horn grows stronger. All he needs is a powerful demon, a strong, obedient demon capable of using the power drill to show the drones how it’s done. A demon, exactly like he did the first time. The desired contract takes form inside his mind as the spell requires - all he needs is a demon to do the digging.
The energy gathered by his mind opens a hole in existence, and the summoning circle bursts out with flames. Seven grins. Whatever massive and powerful murder demon will be bound to his exact orders and…
Seven’s grin freezes.
“SEVEN!” Comfort’s scream echoes through the tunnel along with few mumbled hellos and waves from the hundred-rank drones, “TELL ME IN WHAT HOLES DAMN REALITY DO YOU SUMMON A SUCCUBUS WITH A CONTRACT TO DIG SHIT?!”
“I- umm- miss Comfort- uhh- I think I- I must have- my mind must have wandered to you-”
“DO YOU WANT YOUR MIND TO REMAIN IN THAT SKULL?” Comfort takes a step forward and her muzzle scrunches against the invisible wall cast by the edge of the summoning circle.
One of the drones has produces a bag of popcorn out of somewhere, and is sharing with a warrior standing next to it.
“I’m really sorry, miss Comfort-” pleads Seven, backing away, “I can fix this. I don’t know the exact banishment spell, but I think I can figure it out in few hours-”
“Screw that!” Comfort stomps the floor, “Let me out.”
“I’m not sure I should-”
“Seven...” she growls, “Look, I don’t think I can have the boss rip your head off, but I sure a hole can ask him to lock your horn and have you dig this whole hive ON YOUR OWN, SO FUCKING LET ME OUT!”
“Okay, okay, let’s not do something crazy we’d all regret and threaten each other with manual labor,” Seven’s back hits the wall of the tunnel.
“YOU SUMMONED ME TO DIG YOU A FUCKING ROOM!”
“Technically, not me, but the boss- AAH!” his back legs give out, and he plops on his butt when Comfort shoots him an almost physically punching glare, “You can leave the circle, you can leave the circle, pleasedon’teatme!”
“Good, so I have to dig through this,” she knocks on the wall at the end of the tunnel, uncharacteristically calm all of a sudden, “You, drones, why is the idiot summoning a demon for this?”
“I-” Seven opens his mouth, his chitin beet-red now as he hears the chittering of changelings around.
“I really wasn’t asking you,” Comfort says with a sweet smile that nonetheless promises slow and painful death by broken off limbs inserted into holes and attached to the power drill, “So?”
“Miss Comfort, we can’t dig out this area quickly enough without a big supply of love,” says One-nineteen, the closest drone, “and Seven is trying to have us use dwarven power tools for it, but we just can’t. We’re too light and weak… sorry...” it adds in the end.
“Alright, sit on your asses until I come back,” in a flash of fire, Comfort disappears.
For some thirty minutes, no one dares move or speak, both out loud and mentally. Then rumbling begins in the distance, gradually drawing closer and closer. Eventually, everyone can hear yelling over the roar of what has to be an engine.
“It’s ten percent luck, fifteen percent skill, fifty percent concentrated POWER DRILL! Five percent pleasure, ninety-nine percent PAIN, AND A THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SIX FUCKING PERCENT REASON TO REMEMBER NOT TO SUMMON ME FOR FUCKING DIGGING!”
Drones scatter as a massive dwarven motorized drill starts chewing through the tunnel without any guidance of rails, but with Comfort sitting in the driver’s seat. Seven screams in horror, and with a flick of his horn teleports everyone behind the tunnel digger. A high-pitched screech of the drill hitting the wall makes everyone’s eyes cross before the engine sputters out, and silence rules the tunnels of the hive again as black smoke pours out of the big machine’s back.
Comfort climbs out of the drill when it stops doing anything, and examines the wall.
“Hmmm… seems this dwarven crap isn’t as good as they say,” she leans to the short dome the drill managed to dig into the tunnel, “Hey, there’s some black stuff here, Drones? Get over here!”
One-thirteen darts ahead, partly curious about the apparently broken dwarven device, and partly about the progress Comfort’s reckless attempt brought. To the drone’s eyes, it looks like the drill broke through a thick layer of volcanic granite and indeed hit something black it barely scratched before burning out.
“Hey, that’s bedrock,” Seven arrives, curiosity taking him over as well, “But that’s usually found way deeper. Damn, there’s really no way we can hollow out this big a section of underground if it’s bedrock. That means...” he sighs, “That means we need to move the whole hive...”
“Umm...” One-thirteen scratches its head, “I don’t think it’s solid,” the drone knocks its hoof against the bedrock, then repeats it, only stronger, “I mean, the bedrock thingy is weird, but to me it feels as if it’s hollow.”
“I’m not staying here until you dig this out!” Comfort groans, frustrated, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuu-” she cocks her foreleg back where it starts burning with pink fire that makes Seven’s horn flicker, “-cckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!” and punches.
She pulls her foreleg out of a hoof-sized hole in the black wall.
“Hey, the little dummy was right, it is hollow,” Comfort pats One-thirteen’s head, “That means I fulfilled the contract. I’m freeeeee!” in a burst of fire, Comfort is gone, leaving behind a bunch of confused changelings, tunnel filled with burned machine smoke, and Seven genuinely reconsidering his life choices.
“Huuuh… if this is hollow, I wonder what’s behind it,” mumbles One-thirteen, its blue eye pressed tightly against the hole, “Nope, can’t see anything.”
“We need at least a little light, I suppose,” Seven shoves the drone aside, and a flying white spark separates from the glow of his horn and enters the hole, “What now?”
One-thirteen peeks inside again, and frowns.
“I dunno. Looks like a wide open space… with maybe something...” it pulls its head back, and then from side to side as the glow of Seven’s spark grows brighter. In the end, the drone shakes its head, “I think there is something in the room, but I don’t have a proper field of view. Can someone transform into a bat or something?”
“Let’s not,” orders Seven, “It could be a nest of flame spiders or something, and if one of you gets eaten then it’ll be up to me to explain how it happened,” he sighs, “Alright, let’s do it the changeling way. Start digging around this section of bedrock. With any luck, it’s not too huge. I’ll… I’ll just go tell loremaster Granite that we broke one of the diggers...” he ends with a sigh, and walks away.
Later, he knocks on the door of the council room, and enters. Six is reading something while Five is idly massaging his shoulders. Granite is the only dwarf here, busy with a different report.
“Hey, guys?” Seven scratches his head nervously, “Digging out the throne room hit a little… snag.”
Six turns his head.
“Look, I tried to tell you over and over, unless we use actual dwarven armor and enhance drone muscles to the point of warriors, we won’t be able to use dwarven power tools effectively. The kickback is just too big. I know you want us to use technology, but we’d burn more love on enhancements than we would by digging normally.”
“Well yes… I see that now,” Seven nods, “Buuut… what about those huge dwarven diggers that you can drive around?”
“We don’t need them,” Six rolls his eyes, “Those are useful, I admit, but the way drones dig is better for soft changes and actually somewhat faster because we don’t need to lay tracks for everywhere,” Six’s eye twitches, “Wait… don’t tell me you took one...”
“Technically… I didn’t,” Seven chuckles, withering under the drone’s glare, “But… purely hypothetically… what would we do if one broke?”
“If one somehow broke on its own?” Six adds, his stare now burning holes in the twitching Seven.
“Nooooot exactly...”
Five pulls out a pistol from a holster around her chest and aims it between Seven’s eyes.
“Start speaking before I start shooting,” she says simply.
“Well, as things go… we kinda wanted to dig out the throne room area faster, and-”
“We?” Six rubs his temples, “I thought the boss gave us specific instructions to simply keep going and don’t do anything crazy.”
“Alright, I wanted to surprise the boss with the finished throne room when he came back, so I kinda pushed the drones a little too hard and I wanted them to use the dwarf equipment, and so I kinda summoned a demon to help us dig.”
“Wait, what was the last part?” Six’s jaw drops, “A demon?”
“Yeeeah,” Seven whistles innocently, “I messed up a little, and summoned Comfort instead, who didn’t take it well and… mumblemumble...”
“What?” hisses Five.
“I said she stole the big digger, drove it to the tunnel, and crashed it into the wall upon which I think the motor burned out… and the drill broke too, because, well, there’s a cave or room made of bedrock where our throne room is supposed to be.”
Granite, rather amused until now, frowns.
“The TX-3 drills are ridiculously expensive in rare materials, both the engine and the drill itself,” he says in a serious tone, “They are the fastest drilling devices we have, but digging through bedrock requires specialized equipment, not these,” he shakes his head, “I hate to say it, but we would require some compensation. Hard Reset and especially Hard Hat will be furious if the digger has to be scrapped.”
Six whimpers, and buries his face into his hooves. Five stands up, walks over to the freshly repaired target dummy, not made of bedrock this time but rather simple leather and gravel, and punches it several times. This being apparently not satisfactory, she pulls out her pistol and empties a full clip to the dummy’s head, each shot making Seven wince.
Two guards from outside the council room charge in, flamethrowers at the ready, and look around in confusion when they find nothing happening.
“OUT!” screams Six, “EVERYONE BUT GRANITE GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT!”
“Sorry-” Five realizes that her weaponized outburst really didn’t help anything, and tries to apologize.
“Accepted,” hisses Six, “but get the hole out. I need to fix this, and I don’t need any hothead accidentally shooting anyone. And Seven, if you as much as show any drone a power drill, I’ll shove it up your urethra and set it to mulch!”
Without a word, Five walks to Seven, grabs him by his neck, and pulls him out of the council room as the two guards follow and close the door behind them.
Six whimpers again.
“Oh great… boss leaves us in charge and at this rate when he comes back we’ll be banished out of Brauheim...” he mumbles to himself.
“I sincerely doubt that,” Granite chuckles, “although I’m afraid I really can’t just let this slide. Losing the drill means a rather dramatic slowdown of our deep core mining operations. There are only five of those operational at the moment. Well, there were only five.”
“I know,” Six frowns, takes a deep breath, and looks Granite in the eyes, “Alright, boss wouldn’t use his dwarf king position to sweep this under a rug, he would admit his mistake and work on fixing this. How can we repay the broken drill, Granite? We don’t have anything to trade or money to pay with, so what can we do to fix this?”
He knows Granite won’t try to screw him over. The dwarf thinks for a moment, and then speaks up:
“The obvious option is for your hive to fulfill the task the digger was supposed to, which would require you to grab the deep core protective suits, and go digging, but as far as I know, you dig with your hooves, and the temperatures down there are too high.”
Six nods.
“I did some digging down there in a suit, I know how to shapeshift properly. Maybe this will be a good opportunity to teach the new drones something useful. And if Seven figures out some heat resistance magic or something, it might not be too bad,” he says, “Alright, Granite. I’ll gather everyone and tell them what we’re supposed to do. One of the infiltrators will accompany Hard Hat and relay to us the digging schedule. We can start in about an hour, is that okay?”
“I do believe so,” Granite gives Six an impressed look, “I’ll have a talk with Hard Hat and Hard Reset to figure out the exact scale of the needed work. Just send somepony here, and I’ll relay what I get,” when Six nods, Granite leaves.
Six just lays his forehead on the cool stone of the council table, and closes his eyes for a second.
“There are ranked infiltrators and warriors around, so damn it, why do I have to be the responsible one here?!” he grumbles.
***
There are two equine figures sitting silently by the pond in the center of the Canterlot castle garden maze, both wearing paladin armors and meditating cross-legged. Ten is completely focused on his breathing and gathering magic into his horn, faint tickling coursing through his whole body as his magic veins draw power from all over him. Bright Star is sitting opposite of him, presumably doing the same. Magic crackles between them, small sparks ionizing the air or making it wibble from sheer amount of concentrated power.
“-”
Bright Star feels the seesaw of energy tip, and gradually releases some of his held magic, which Ten mirrors, and both paladins open their eyes. The unicorn sees Ten’s ears flick and turn. Knowing that Ten’s hearing is significantly better than his, he asks:
“Is anything wrong?”
“Not exactly, I just can hear my guys,” with a smile, he mentally reaches around for hive links, and quickly finds Three and Eleven casually wandering around the maze, “We’re about to have company,” he stands up, and heads into the winding arboreal halls with Bright Star in tow.
Few moments later, Eleven walks from behind a corner, looks up, beams, and rushes towards Ten and Bright Star. Three, hovering above, clears the corner next, and waves at the two paladins.
“Oooh, did we find it?” a squeaky female voice is followed by Bubbles walking in the back, “Hey, mister Bright Star, mister Ten!” she darts forward when she spots the two currently busy with Elevens swarming around and hugging every huggable surface.
“Oh hello-” Bright Star snickers when Bubbles bounces at him with such speed that she grabs his neck armor with one foreleg and spins around his neck to land on his back, “Ooof, careful, Bubbles. I’m an old stallion after all.”
“What are you all doing here?” asks Ten, casually juggling three giggling Elevens as part of his practice.
“Boss, miss Gem, and miss One are busy on the bigwig business meeting, so Bubbles decided to show us around. We’ve scoured the whole castle gardens already,” explains Three, “Two disappeared somewhere, and I thought I sensed Cryo around, but I guess it was you, Ten.”
Ten furrows his brows, and shakes his head.
“Hmm, no. Cryo is around, her link is just really weak,” he starts walking ahead, “Let’s go find her.”
It doesn’t take long before the group of walking and in some cases riding equines find a huge pile of changeling snoring in the dead end of the maze.
“Oh my gosh it’s the huge barfing lady!” Bubbles starts poking Cryo all over.
“Wha- who?” the queen raises her head, and squints at Bubbles jumping around and smiling, “That’s a lot of teeth, I approve.”
“How did you end up sleeping here?” asks Three when Cryo sits up much to the amazement of Bubbles still darting around her.
“Little beard said she had something to do, so I wandered around and ended up here,” Cryo shrugs, “This winding bush is confusing...”
“You’re even bigger up close...” Bubbles pokes a leg through a hole in Cryo’s foreleg.
The queen raises her foreleg with Bubbles still attached. The demonette salutes, hanging by one leg.
“What’s this little beard with teeth?”
“I’m Bubbles, nice to meet you! And I’m not beard, I’m half demon, half pony. Well, not exactly half, more part pony, part demon, part a lot of stuff I can’t recall. I can bark too. Woof!”
“Huh.” Cryo sniffs Bubbles and, seemingly satisfied with the result, puts her on her head. Bubbles grabs Cryo’s horn for stability, and enjoys looking down at usually bigger Bright Star.
“Oh,” Three smacks his forehead, “Hey, Bubbles, can you cover your ears for a moment? I need to tell mister Bright Star something secret.”
“Sure!” she folds her big ears down and puts her claws on them, “Done.”
“Good,” Three lowers his voice, “Mister Granite said not to mention ‘the little guys’ under any circumstances.”
“Got it,” Bright Star and Ten nod.
“Who are the little guys?” asks Bubbles immediately, ears still folded and covered.
“Hey, I asked you not to listen!” Three gives Bubbles a pouty stare.
“No, you told me to cover my ears. It’s not my fault I can hear you anyway,” Bubbles uncovers her ears and folds her forelegs on her chest, still holding Cryo’s horn with her hind legs.
“Wooow, you’re so smart! I didn’t think of that. Please don’t tell boss I screwed up like this,” Three frowns.
“It’s a diplomatic thing, Bubbles,” Bright Star explains, “No one is supposed to know, so keep this to yourself.”
“Mouth sealed!” Bubbles makes a zipping motion with her foreleg, “It’s not like I know anything anyway.”
Cryo yawns, which makes Bubbles jump down. Three flies down to her, and hugs her.
“Thanks for being a good sport about this.”
Elevens circle around the two, and Ten quickly realizes why. To his changeling eyes, both Bubbles and Three look like two little love-filled suns of pure happiness.
His horn flashes. A free refill is a free refill.
***
Finally, the first day is over.
Walking out of the summit room, I shake my head. My suspicion about the event being wildly similar to council meetings in Brauheim proved correct quickly, although this actually felt impactful. No toothbrush hardness arguments, allowed colors of hoof polish, or braids in beards. This was big - migration limits, military support, relief aid… and pretty much nothing about us, really.
We spent most of our time just listening and taking in information about the current state of the world. From what I gather, there’s peace pretty much everywhere. Some zebra countries aren’t exactly friendly with each other, and states loosely tied to the Griffone Empire to the east often take over each other’s border fortresses, but no one is openly fighting anyone.
Gem hides a notepad filled with details she didn’t want to store in the hive mind into her saddlebag, and looks at groaning One who leans against me. I can feel the echo of her splitting headache, and her brooding mood.
“Are you okay, One?” I nuzzle her cheek.
“I didn’t screw anything up, did I?” she mumbles.
“No, you did well.”
“...wohoo...” she cheers quietly, and hisses at a fresh stab of pain.
Her headache is nothing physical, so it just must have been too much for her - too much new information to make sense of, too many things to be careful and wary of not to make a diplomatic misstep. Gem tried to answer in her stead as often as she could, which only served to make One more miserable, although I knew she was grateful not to have to talk about our ties to minotaurs or anything big.
“Let’s get you to our room. I think we all deserve some peace and quiet after today,” I say. Mentally, I add, “Everyone, how are things?”
“We did maintenance on Cryo!” announces Three, “Bubbles even braided her mane.”
Uhhh… what?
“What do you mean by maintenance and who is Bubbles?”
“We cleaned her all over since Two was busy. Bubbles even brought her shampoo. It was for dogs, but it made Cryo’s mane and tail really shiny. She looks like a crystal pony now… well, she looked like one for a while before she fell asleep on the lawn again,” Three’s report continues, “Oh, and we met Ten and mister Bright Star who know Bubbles from some city called Manehattan. Then they played fetch, which I didn’t join because I was being all serious and kept an eye on things.”
His talent at saying everything while explaining nothing is uncanny. I take a peek into Three’s mind for anything Bubbles-related, and receive a good image of a rather strange semi-equine mare with a smile that Comfort would shudder at. Everything in Three’s mind screams ‘friend’ about her, so I leave it be.
“I could use you here. One isn’t feeling well,” maybe our little healing talisman will help even though One isn’t drained or exactly hurt.
“I’ve got a better idea, boss! I’ll bring Bubbles too. You’ll like her.”
Well… I suppose it can’t hurt?
Suddenly, a mass of information flows into the hive mind which makes me blink. It’s an updated map of the castle, now including Royal Guard recruit barracks by the northern wall of the castle, a workshop near the southern city walls, garden maze, and full garden as well including everything I could know if I walked through the places myself. On top of that, the map contains hotspots of magic spread around the castle, although their meaning is still unknown. And finally, it includes common hiding spots on the roof for Royal Guards observing the ground, ground patrol routes, occupants of the guest rooms, and pegasi flight paths.
“A little update on how this place works,” says Two, and I can practically feel her smug grin, “I had to unload Cryo somewhere safe, but I think my exploration was worth it.”
“Wow… that’s quite the attention to detail,” Gem herself adds approvingly, “I didn’t find the magic sources, though. Well spotted.”
“Any idea what those are?” I ask.
“No, boss,” admits Two, “I can sense them thanks to spending time with Seven, but I don’t have his understanding of their complexity.”
“I can help there,” Gem takes a rather educated guess, “There are magic wards inside the castle which prevent unauthorized users from teleporting in and out as well as scrying or generally using any advanced magic. Royal Guards have to learn specific patterns to their spells in order to be able to use them within the walls of the castle.”
“Well done, Two. This could be crazy useful.”
“No problem, boss. When I’m in a situation in which I can’t fight my way out, I need to know EVERYTHING in order to avoid it in the first place. Infiltration one-oh-one.”
“Uhgg… I don’t mean to be annoying, but could you please keep it down?” One interrupts our conversation, “All this hive link communication isn’t helping my head, and since boss here is involved, I can’t cut myself off properly.”
“Yeah, I suppose I’ll ask a different question - any problems?”
A general chorus of ‘no’ is all I need to hear before I weaken my links to help One rest.
She leans against me, and slowly breathes out.
“Honey, I’ll just go lie down.”
“I’ll go fix you something for the headache, mom,” Gem pats her back, “I think I can make something that will work properly even on you,” she rushes off.
“Am I really too stupid for all that business talk?” muses One quietly, “I think my brain is protesting listening to problems I can’t punch my way out of. You, on the other hole, seemed right at home between all those diplomats. Owww,” she stops and clutches her head, “Must not use long words now, and this was just the first day...”
We reach our room where One lies down on the bed, buries her muzzle into a pillow, and I draw the curtains. It’s evening, but at this time of the year it’s still bright outside. Quiet knocking precedes Three, Eleven, and Bubbles walking in, the last one looking around hesitantly.
“Heya, boss!” Three greets me cheerfully, although in a slightly muted tone in respect to One. Bubbles pushes herself to her full almost-earthpony height, and salutes.
“Diplomatic greetings, king Beard.”
“You must be Bubbles,” I shake her foreleg, “Thank you for keeping Three and Eleven company throughout the day.”
“No problem,” she proudly puffs out her chest, “It was a lot of fun.”
“Hey, Bubbles, can you help me make miss One feel better?” Three pokes her.
“Huh, how? I’m not too medicine-y, and I don’t know much about you changelings,” she gives him and then the bed a quizzical look.
“Trust me on this,” Three flies onto the bed, followed by jumping Bubbles, and curls up by One’s head. A moment later, One’s leg wraps around him, “You’re really nice, so I thought that just being near miss One will make her feel better. This is totally diplomatic, isn’t it, boss?”
“I suppose so,” I shrug with a smirk.
“Awww,” Bubbles beams and hugs One’s back, “Diplomacy away!”
As she nuzzles One’s neck, I can see what Three meant. For some reason, Bubbles seems to love everyone indiscriminately, and while she isn’t the source of energy Three is, just her presence must be helping because One’s breathing is already slowing down.
“Sorry, honey, but can you leave me alone for a while? At this point my head aches just from your thinking.” I hear One’s weak voice.
“I’ll go take a walk and clear my head,” I say.
“Hey, king Beard,” whispers Bubbles, “Can you please tell sir Cromach that I won’t make the evening report since I’m here helping diplomacy-ing? He’s a big white griffon who can sometimes look scary, but he’s really nice. His office is on the third floor, and it has his name on it.”
“I’ll be outside the castle, but Eleven, you can do that, right? Everyone else is busy,” I say, opening the door.
“Sure thing, boss,” Elevens salute as one, and follow me out.
“Thanks, honey. Sorry for kicking you out like this,” mutters One.
“Don’t worry about it, just have a good rest for the second round tomorrow.”
“Holes, kill me now...”
***
Eleven splits up with me on the ground floor, waves me goodbye, and then looks around.
Now this... this is a mission that requires infiltratoring! Of course, he could simply go to the office and relay the message, but boss might get into trouble for not respecting ponies properly by sending someone as inexperienced as Eleven. This needs… subtlety.
An opportunity presents itself on the second floor where he finds a laundry basket outside the door filled with colored ponchos and a sombrero. Hah, now a real pony can relay the message. Of course, if he does things wrong, there might be the problem of him borrowing some clothes, but he’ll bring everything back in few minutes. Using Two’s observed patrol timings, he pretends to look out of the window, although five pairs of changelings standing on each other’s backs, one by each window of the hall totally don’t look suspicious at all with one sitting by the wall opposite of the desired laundry basket. As a pair of unicorn guards pass, Elevens quickly snatch the poncho and a hat, and form a new amalgamation of bodies. Two Elevens form each leg, two make up the body, and one with the big hat takes charge as the neck and head. It takes some serious coordination, but today was a treasure trove of experience regarding control already, and Eleven learned things about himself he didn’t know before having to flee from Bubbles. After few stumbling attempts, Eleven starts moving.
Yes, it does look like a marexican ghost is sliding along the floor, but it’s the thought that counts. Stairs prove an unexpected obstacle, although at this point Eleven has come too far to give up, and with some carefully timed hopping he finds himself on the third floor, confidently striding- gliding towards the office identified by both Two’s map and Bubbles’ description.
Okay, knocking is going to be a problem.
After a minute of thinking, Eleven fails to figure out a solution, so the two Elevens forming the right foreleg simply drop and knock normally before reassembling into a leg.
“Come in!” comes from the inside. Head Eleven frowns, and this time knocks the rim of his sombrero against the door.
The second attempt works, and the door opens, showing a white griffon almost a head taller than the Elevens even with the hat.
“Yeeeees?” the griffon’s eyes go wide, “How can I help you?”
“Yo soy muchachos Bubbles will not make the evening report because she’s helping boss Beard with a headache… sombreros,” head Eleven adds after a thought.
“Sorry, ambassador, I don’t speak Sponish,” the corner of Cromach’s beak twitches, “Can you bring an interpreter? Or if you don’t mind, I can ask one of the princesses to come, they can speak most of the delegates’ languages.”
“No no no,” instead of waving two Elevens that form the leg, top Eleven sticks his tiny legs through the neckhole of the poncho and waves them defensively in front of his face, “Bubbles is just helping-” says the right leg as Eleven’s concentration breaks, “-because miss One has a headache, so she-” and the right leg joins in, “-and Three decided on some hug treatment-” Eleven realizes what his torso just did, “Uh oh...”
“Well well well, changelings pretending to be a delegate reporting about my subordinate missing...” Cromach leans to the head Eleven who gulps down some drool, and grabs the sombrero.
“Aaaaaah!” ten changelings immediately scatter like a black wave, and start running down the hall. Unfortunately, the final one is still hanging by the chin from the strap of the sombrero, face to face with Cromach. Having no idea what to do, he smiles from ear to ear. That usually works either for making friends or scaring enemies away.
“Tell Bubbles I’ll be expecting her in the morning,” he boops the hanging changeling’s nose, and then slowly lowers him down to the floor.
Eleven bolts away, an effort quickly marred by the sombrero acting like a parachute behind his back and making him slide back on the floor. Others quickly rush over, untangle him, and all eleven of them flee from the griffon. Eleven can’t tell what’s so scary about him, other than the entire operation failing horribly, but there just is something wrong with seemingly friendly Cromach, something more than is visible, something horrifying.
***
I took a casual trip to the city walls and admired the scenery as darkness finally fell on Equestria. Strangely enough, night revealed a lot more from the land than the day, thanks to many lights dotting the landscape where I couldn’t see villages and settlements before.
Anyway, I’m finally back in my room, and I don’t feel tired at all after all the refreshing cold air outside. I don’t dare kiss One out of fear of waking her up again, although whatever Gem’s concoction was, it knocked One out like a light, so I just shapeshift my legs to walk silently on the carpet, turn the lights off, and leave again.
So, Three is with One and Bubbles, Eleven is with Cryo in the next room, Two has our third room for herself, Gem is with Ten and Bright Star in Bright Star’s estate, and I’m now aimlessly strolling through the upper floors of the castle which are a lot darker than the lower ones and decorated more with the motif of a moon rather than the solar decorations lower. It must be princess Luna’s floor or something. Even the guards look rather strange, mostly dark in color and wearing vastly different armor - midnight purple, jagged, and all in all scary. Oh yeah, and they are batty too - like pegasi but with sharp teeth, eyes with slit pupils, and leathery wings. The main difference, though, between them and the usual Royal Guard pegasi downstairs is that these guys often hang head-down by their hind legs from metal bars hidden in shadows by the ceiling. Weird, I tell you.
It must be late after midnight when I return to the second floor, everything is quiet, my eyes are finally closing on their own, and I chuckle when I see a Royal Guard propped against his spear and snoring.
Wait a minute…
Not just him. A diamond dog guard is sleeping curled up by one door, two zebras are sitting on the floor, their backs against the walls. Quite unusual for all these representatives to be basically unprotected.
“TWO!” I immediately connect to the first changeling who comes to mind.
“Wh- what- dad-? This again?” she mumbles in daze, and I sense a stab of fear from her, “I AM A DRONE AND I’M DIGGING A HOLE!” she starts screaming into my link, which washes away my sleepiness instantly.
“DIGGY DIGGY HOLE, DIGGY DIGGY HOLE!” I scream back, “Good thinking!”
“I’ll be right with you,” she says, and I hear a door slamming open and shut somewhere in the distance behind a corner, “Everyone is asleep! Do we call for help?”
“Last time, there was no help to call for,” I recall her map, “Can’t you sense where the magic is coming from? I think it’s somewhere in my hallway, but I can’t point it out.”
Two arrives, her short horn glowing.
“There’s a lot of magic everywhere around, but I think… Queen Novo’s room,” she immediately turns around and gallops back towards the room near the end of the hall. Two hippogriff guards are propped on their spears, heads drooped.
“Alright, let me do the unlocking,” a burning blade forms around my foreleg, and almost without any resistance I cut a triangle out of the door, and barge inside.
The room being dark means nothing, and I immediately spot the unconscious queen in her hippogriff form at the edge of the pool, sliding into the water with a stream of bubbles. Without thinking, I jump in, transform my hind legs into a fish tail, catch her limp body dropping deeper and deeper, and pull her out.
“She’s not breathing!”
“Gimme a second!” she presses her mouth to the queen’s beak, and breathes some air in.
“STEP AWAY FROM THE QUEEN!” we hear loud voice behind us, and realize that not only the hippogriff guards are fully awake, but that the sleep spell is gone, and princess Celestia is observing the situation.
“She’s not breathing!” I raise my voice.
“Step away, and we will sort it out,” says Celestia calmly. Two and I back off, which the two hippogriff guards use to dart past, and touch the queen’s forehead. She turns into a seapony and back, starting to groan and breathe.
Unfortunately, Novo points at me, grunts, and tries to shuffle backwards.
“No more… please...”
Well, shit.
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Well... this doesn't look good... hope boss is a smooth talker
Well... this doesn't look good... hope boss is a smooth talker
Who the HELL summons Comfort for that!? An idiot, that's who!
Eleven's scene with Cromach was absolutely awesome. You gave me a week's worth of snickering in one day.
9790123
If talking things out was enough, entigre TV and literary genres would go extinct.
9790125
Huh, I'm getting the weirdest sense of deja vu.
9790176
- what happened was that 7 recalled Comfort on accident during the summoning and it called on her instead of his target. Oh well.
- A completely pointless scene, and yet it just works.
>bedrock walls into a hollow space
I detect incoming fun.
9790773
Let's not do anything drastic like fun.
9790838
- enemy of two states.
- 1 punched Bugbutt in the face.
- lings have been somewhat suspiciously operating around the castle for two days already.
- or maybe Boss is just a victim of random circumstances.
9790717
Bah, coulda, woulda, shoulda. If Seven keeps playing ground with summoning circles, he's gonna summon fun one of these days.
9791022
There is absolutely no way his apology to Six can turn out even worse and send Five into hell with the shotgun and BFG to save him, Doom style, right?
9791060
derpicdn.net/img/view/2019/8/22/2124724.png
9794907
OH. MY. GOD.
Well, that absolutely made my day.
Mind if I blog it and maybe use as a cover for a while?
9794948
I made it for you, so yeah, go nuts
Heh
yuhhh