They're... ON HOLIDAY?

by Nameless Narrator

Day 3 - Storm: 1/11

The walls of the surrounding tunnel are a mix of black and dark purple, the whole thing is barely big enough to stand in, and it’s lit by tiny white, red, and yellow dots. A chill runs down 10013’s spine as the terrifying certainty of where it is washes over it.

This can’t be real.

It looks around, and finds the worried face of Smiley behind itself.

No no no no!

Somehow, 10013 knows what’s about to happen, and the second it crosses its mind, the walls of the tunnel start crumbling.

“RUN!” screams 10013, and bolts ahead.

Unfortunately, while the tunnel is the right size for a drone, Smiley’s slightly bigger size makes it more difficult to move while hunched up. 10013’s blind panic wins, though, and it doesn’t look at Smiley’s progress, not until its mind catches a mental image of-

*Sad, betrayed face*

-which flickers only for the barest second before 10013 hears a painfully real:

*Crunch!*

10013 finally looks back just as the collapsing, strangely fleshy tunnel devours Smiley, leaving behind only a foreleg desperately reaching for 10013 which drops on the floor. The collapse stops, and so does 10013.

“I’m sorry, Smiley… I’m not 9999,” sobs 10013, “I can’t… I couldn’t…” it grabs the foreleg, cradling it in its hooves, “I’m not High Score! You want too much.”

The tunnel comes to life again, its starry walls wobbling and melting. 10013 scrambles to all fours, dropping Smiley’s leg over which the tunnel pours in its pursuit of 10013 immediately.

9999 wouldn’t let a friend- no, any drone die, and you are fleeing like a coward.

10013’s hooves sink into the floor of the tunnel turning into starry quicksand, and it takes so much effort to take pace after pace. It’s clear how this is going to end, and the familiar heavy weight and following agony of a tunnel collapsing on its back lights 10013’s nerves, leaving behind only the clear knowledge that:

I’m not good enough.

Finally, the darkness takes away both the endless agony of the slow crushing and the weight of 10013’s self-admitted inadequacy.

***

Gasping for breath, its chitin somehow covered in sweat, and wincing at the pain of the phantom crushing, 10013 finds itself standing on all fours inside the hive mind waiting room. The familiar silver lines marking the otherwise invisible floor set against the pitch blackness of the place slowly wash away the… memory?

“...what happened…?” breathes out 10013, still haunted by the recent experience.

A soft laughter of a voice, no details of which 10013 can identify, wraps around the drone like a warm and comfortable blanket.

“You can rest now, little drone. The nightmare is over,” says the voice. Does it belong to a stallion? Mare? 10013 has no idea.

“Nightmare?” breathes out 10013, now worried even more by the unidentifiable intrusion inside its mind, “What… what’s that?”

The voice giggles, melting a little bit of 10013’s tension away.

“Dreaming is just a way your brain disseminates past events. If those events are troubling, it can turn into a nightmare like the one I sensed from you. Don’t worry too much, none of what you saw or experienced was real, although whatever triggered it seemed to weigh on you rather heavily.”

“I…” 10013 finally sits down with a deep sigh, “I’m responsible for what the others do. I gotta know what’s right and what’s wrong, but I’m not 9999, I’m just another drone. Yeah, rank 10013, but what does that even matter? I’m a tiny bit faster, stronger, maybe smarter? The difference of rank between us drones is insignificant. I’m older, sure, but most of my life I’ve been digging tunnels just like everyone,” 10013 shakes its head, “387 expects me to do well, to make sure the others don’t cause trouble for the hive, but I have no clue how anything they’re doing might turn out. Do I tell 36658 to stop giving others drugs just in case it might, I don’t know, harm them somehow, because it never tested them on ponies? Do I tell 20100 to charge more for its paintings because, according to what I understood from 387, they’re worth so much more? Do I order 99111 to make up with 36658, forget their issues, and focus on working for the hive? They would obey right now, but it would just be putting off problems for later,” 10013 lies down and covers its head with its forelegs, “We’re not hungry anymore, we’re not under threat from high ranks, we’re not even in any real danger from the outside, and I can’t figure out how to solve even the simplest problems! 9999 led us back during the old days when we were starving, when high ranks were looking for any slip-up to eat us, and when ponies were either actively hunting us down or would do that if they knew what we were. I-”

An equine shadow somehow visible in the darkness of the hive mind and bearing physical weight falls over 10013, but instead of a threat, it brings warmth. Just like with the voice itself, 10013 can’t make out any real details as the shadow lies down next to it, wraps its much larger body around the drone, and whispers into its ear:

“I know how it feels to grow up as a microscopic speck in the shadow of someone incredible. Many incredible creatures, in fact. And yet, I panicked the first time I had a nightmare as well. I thought my dad was torn apart and I was left all alone. Wailing and trailing snot all over the place, I stomped over my mother’s face and felt so silly when my dad woke up, unharmed and absolutely okay. It made me realize my fears - I was small, helpless, in a dangerous world, and the only lifeline I had were those around me. Your fear, clearly, is failing to live up to the example of your hero and, like any fear, the first step to dealing with it is understanding it.”

“I’m not 9999…” mumbles 10013 mournfully.

“Clearly not, you’re a whole bunch of different digits, and more of them, too,” the shadow chuckles, and the verbal jab makes 10013 look up with a scrunched pout which earns it a soft boop on the nose, “Perseverance is the key to success, 10013, even though such success might be completely different from what you imagined. As long as you don’t give up, there will be a path. Maybe a difficult one, maybe one barely even worth the effort, but it will be there. You are not 9999, you confusing little math problem, you are yourself, and I don’t doubt you have your own path to tread.”

“I wish I knew it would be enough…”

“You wanna know a secret? Like a really important one?”

“Mhm.”

“No one ever does, and if someone tells you otherwise they’re lying or uninformed.”

“You mean… that I just-” 10013’s face turns incredulous.

“Wing it? Yep.”

“But what if I screw up?”

“Then next time you wing it better.”

“What if someone gets hurt?!”

“Then next time maybe you plan to split the risk so that you take the brunt of it, and then you wing it better.”

10013’s jaw drops.

“Like High Score did with Smiley…” it blinks repeatedly in realization, “It knew the pair with Smiley would be the most volatile one, that they might need more time for explanations in case things went wrong. But… but in the end 9999 died anyway.”

“Death is something not even the best of us can avoid forever,” the shadow plants a soft kiss on the back 10013’s head, “My best advice is to take what you get and try to leave behind as much good as you can, because you can’t know how what you do will turn out in the end. I doubt even your friend 9999 had any idea its passing would leave such an empty hole inside you, and not only you.”

For the first time since the drone conflict started, 10013 smiles a genuine smile.

“That's very drone-like thinking! Are you the Great Shiny? The Great Shiny that made 9999 the one and only High Score would know proper droning.”

“I’m not. I’m just… me,” replies the shadow, rising up, circling around, and finally vanishing with: “Wake up, 10013.”

With a jolt, 10013 opens its eyes.

The cabin feels heavy, hot, and stale, like inside the egg storage caverns back home. 36658 groans in its sleep, stuck in a hammock across the cabin from it and leaning against 20100 who is quietly snoring, seemingly without any kind of worries.

Despite it being deep into pony sleepy time, 10013 quietly guides its legs through the webbing, leaves the cabin, and heads upstairs for some fresh air.

***

“Y’know yer a neish buggo…” 93 slurs her words hard as she’s half hanging from 387’s side.

“You already said that. Three times, if I remember correctly,” the warrior replies, half in amusement and half in disbelief.

“Para- Parrot- Parry- noid but neish deep down. Laik an egg… all hard on top, buh when ya crack ya go blub blub blub…” 93 simply follows 387’s guidance for a moment before adding, “Meiks sens the Queen likes yoo.”

“Chrysalis likes me? Heh, I’m afraid that’s impossible for so many reasons.”

“Yoo still got yer silly head,” 93 bonks 387’s head using the foreleg she’s hanging on him with, “Hee hee hee.”

“I’m pretty sure she just needs me alive for whatever her plan is,” 387 steers the conversation. Perhaps, in this state, 93 might inadvertently give a hint regarding Chrysalis’ goal.

“Ooooh, her big plan,” 93 tries to spookily wave her forelegs, which in her current position is only possible with 387 grunting under her sudden surprising full weight, “I dun laik her plan…” she grumbles, “Izz weird.”

“But what is it? Why bring the drones?”

“Cuz ev’n dey know how ta have fun better den meee!” 93 grabs 387’s neck with both forelegs and starts quietly weeping into his carapace.

That’s… not what 387 expected. Either 93 is a better actor than he can even recognize, which isn’t a long shot for an infiltrator, or she simply really doesn’t know. Even so, he expected something more complex than this complete nonsense.

“Fun?” is all he can say.

“She said ta find sumfin I enjoy,” sobs 93, “Ta try things!” she drops from 387 and drunkenly stumbles forward through the corridor, “Yoo w’rriers got it easy. Yoo just… stand sumwhere all day… and punsh ev’rything dat goes where… it shouldn’t!” she grumbles, swings her foreleg in a mock punch at the air, and falls over, faceplanting into the carpet, “Halp!” she mumbles, “Ah promish I won’t… bash worriers… ‘nymore…”

387 stares.

93 starts snoring.

387 sighs.

“That’s just what we need, a wasted changeling seen sleeping in the hallway,” he grumbles, “On the other hole, anyone still up at this time of night will be on the verge of blacking out too.”

Loading the sack of potatoes currently known as 93 on his back, he tries to enter the infiltrator’s mind. To his surprise, there are only the most basic infiltrator defenses completely unfitting for a rank 93 in the way, which even he can bypass and get to-

“Ughh…” he fights off a bout of nausea at touching the completely sloshed mind of 93.

Reading it is out of the question in such a state. Was this her plan? To get drunk and thus be protected against him? Why would she need it?

Is there… even the tiniest chance… that 93 just wanted to play cards… and get drunk? No, holes no. She’s an infiltrator ranked 93. The top hundred have always been special and she’s the ONLY one whom Chrysalis ranked like that since the invasion. She is the top rank alive. This is all a plan.

Alright, so she’s drunk but it’s calculated. If I leave her here, Chrysalis will know about it and use it against me the next time the real hive needs anything. Is 93 just pretending to be drunk to see what I’ll do? A rank 93 would be able to simulate drunkenness.

93, in her sleep, lets out a loud, long burp smelling of an incredible mix of alcohol that would probably slay anything that’s not a dragon or an alicorn. That’s not fake, 387 has been there all along, playing cards with her and swapping patrons from all delegations, listening to any useful secret or a rumor, and seeing 93 get less and less coherent as the night dragged on.

Finally, 387 enters their suite and drops 93 on her bed. Sniffing the air, he grimaces.

“Do I switch my nose off, or-” he muses, leaving the cabin and locking it behind himself, “maybe I should spend the night with the drones?”

A quick mental check reveals that, with the exception of 10013 who is asleep on the top deck for some reason, all drones are split between the two cabins as expected.

“Number two it is then,” he mutters, heading downstairs to the deck where the servant quarters are.

As he reaches for the handle of the ‘fanatic’ cabin, choosing that group only out of faint familiarity with them instead of the newborns, a backwash of a mental scream of pure agony washes over him. The sleeping drones wouldn’t sense it, only someone constantly monitoring the hive network would, but it would hit hard.

Before his brain catches up, his legs are already carrying him back towards the stairs.

The scream came from Chrysalis, of all changelings.

Author's Note:

Dun Dun Dunnn!

Comments

[Booster Spice]

OK, whats Pinkie done This time?

[Kiue Jin]

11236086
Be in Chrysalis' general vicinity.

[LunaEpona]

Someling just woke up in bed with Discord.;)

[a creature]

Oh damn.

[ChakatRedstripe]

I know it was Luna but for a moment there u thought it was 9999. can changelings get drunk?
Oh no.. princess Molestia is real! And she got to Chrysalis!

[Scyphi]

[Nameless Narrator]

11236086
She ponk'd.
11236157
Be a Chrysalis' five-star general in secret.
11236166
And Fluttershy likes to watch!
11236280
Prepare to be sorely disappointed. Or sore and disappointed, depending on how hard you eventually facepalm.
11236616
- Do you know, now? Huh.
- Yes, they can if they want and if they do some transformation work on their insides. Naturally, no. It all goes down to the old goop factory.
- Why are all these ideas about what's going on better than mine?
11236671
No rainbow horse! *rolls up newspaper*

[The Wind King]

Does it count as an intimidation tactic if you wake up with a horse's head in your bed, while the rest of the horse is still attached?

Just picturing 8, trying to do the GodFather thing, by putting drones in Chryssy's bed.

[Nameless Narrator]

11237098
Timeline-wise, Eight is now too busy infiltrating dwarven society and, while there's enough ice in the north, sending pony pieces would cost a fortune in stamps.

[readsponies]

Wait, 68's dead too now?

[Nameless Narrator]

11290017
Yes. Got eaten by a hydra in Imbalanced.

[Two_Madmans]

I... thought bugs can't get drunk? From booze at least?