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Starlight in a Broken Vessel

by the-pieman

Chapter 63

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Chapter 63

I’m currently being followed by the random assortment of ponies the princesses supplied me with. Not entirely sure why I’d need a medical team though. If they do attack, I’m certainly capable of handling myself. Heck, I’m even more powerful than last time!

The trek through the forest is relatively brief, and we come to a stop outside the entrance to the hive without any changelings showing up. I decide that they’re all inside, so I walk into the cave, and soon the ground makes the transition to the strange hive material. I suppose I should ask how it’s made... I wonder if it’s like termite mounds and it’s just processed changeling spit...

Eventually, we enter the main chamber, and a green-black changeling rushes up to me, somewhat happily, but then cowering as if unsure how it should act.

“Don’t worry, I’m here to make peace.” At these words, the changeling brightens up, and a bunch of others come out of hiding. “I am here as a sort of ambassador for Equestria, though I have an official one with me, sent by the royal sisters.” I step aside for the said diplomat to approach.

The pony, in full guard regalia, stands tall as she approaches the main room. From a side corridor, I watch as a changeling, taller than the rest by a head, steps into the main room. The changeling steps towards the diplomat, hesitantly. A fall of green hair forms a short mane, and I can see clumps of some kind of goo sticking large patches of the hair together. The changeling also seems a bit clumsy.

“I’m mainly here to settle any disputes that get out of hand. I’m going to let you do the talking and sit back for now. But seriously, no funny business, or you all get the Chrysalis treatment.”

The larger changeling, likely the new queen, nods quickly, and drops into a bow towards me, completely prostrating herself. She’s trembling and looks scared.

“And don’t bow to me! If you want to offer respect, you can speak it.” Seriously, I really don’t like the way they act just because I saved them. It’s just like the ponies. So I save them and suddenly I’m treated like a demi-god.

The mare nods again, or tries to. This mostly results in her smacking her jaw on the floor, and she stands up to rub it with a wince. She turns to the diplomat, then to me. She shifts her gaze to the diplomat again, and coughs. “I, uhm,” she hacks again, the sound phlegmy and moist. “Uh, sorry. I welcome you t-” she hacks and coughs again, before a small wad of green and off-white goo launches itself from her mouth, and splatters on the diplomat’s helmet. I have to give the soldier props, though, she doesn’t even flinch when it hits. The changeling looks mortified.

“Feeling a bit under the weather, today your future-highness?” I ask. “Seriously, how old are you anyway, you can’t be more than seventeen!”

“M- mother kept back my m- molts for f-f-f-f- fifteen y- years. I’m f-f- forty, s- sir.” Her voice is really quiet, and she refuses to meet my eyes. What did that slimy bug do this changeling?

“Well, then I trust you can at least carry a decent conversation. I don’t see any need for combat, as potentially someone to give you some experience in being Queen.”

“I- I wasn’t a-a- allowed t- to speak. I- I’m still l- learning.” She looks like she’s withering as I look at her. I haven’t gained laser vision, have I?

“Well that’s just fantastic. I’m just gonna sit over there....” I gesture behind me with my thumb. “And wait for you two to come to an agreement or something.” That said, I walk over to a nearby wall and lean against it. This is really boring.

For an hour, I struggle to stay awake as the new queen fumbles her way through negotiations. It’s not even taking long because she doesn’t want to negotiate, but rather because she’s so bad at it. She’s constantly having to get things clarified, and she flinches any time she makes a mistake about what someone else said. Honestly, she looks like she thinks that Chrysalis is about to come back from the grave and beat her or something. I think about that for a moment and get up. I walk up the little staircase to the Queen’s chamber and see that... well, the gunk has been mostly cleaned off... but it doesn’t look like the room’s been used at all since then.

That crazy chick down there is too scared to sleep in the bed that’s technically hers now. Wow, Fluttershy’s got more guts than her!

I hear a throat cleared, along with a chirping noise, like a lone cricket. I turn to the sound, to determine it’s source, expecting a changeling. If the new queen can hardly speak, I doubt the others can even form words.

A changeling in a crisp, well-kept tuxedo stands in the hall, studiously at attention. “If sir would care to see the hive, this one would be willing to show sir.” The suit kind of reminds me of Sebastian’s suit from Black Butler, actually.

“Eh, sure. I’ve only been here and the entrance chamber. Why not?”

The insectoid creature bows slightly and leads me onwards. It points to a side chamber, this one without doors, just a ragged drapery cloth. “This is the new queen’s chamber.” Curiosity calls to me.

“Why doesn’t she just take the old one? I can guarantee there’s no chance of Chrysalis coming back, and if she does, I can always use my other foot.”

“Sir is most valiant and comedic. That does not, however, undo forty-three years of the old queen in the new queen’s memory.”

“Eh, yeah, that sounds pretty bad. How long do you buggers live, anyway?” Heh, buggers.

“Sir is most witty. The average drone will see sixty-one years if kept well-tended. There is much research done by the unicorns who lived in Old Canterlot. A queen will live two centuries on average, provided there is no famine, and no war. And in spite of the new queen’s earlier statement in the Grand Chamber, queen molting begins at age eleven. She was denied those molts due to... unsavory magic cast by the old queen. This, and other tactics, were implemented to ensure she could not usurp the old queen’s power. It also shortened her life, like her four older sisters, to extend the old queen’s.” The butler-changeling’s voice was flat and lifeless, with no inflection whatsoever. It might as well have been commenting on the weather a few years previous, or the possibility that there might be an expansion to a building. It’s quite eerie, actually.

“So do you guys have a plan for when these issues have been resolved?”

“Sir is misinformed. Regular beatings have likely removed the new queen’s ability to mentally heal. It is likely the new queen will be killed and replaced within the year.” Well, that’s dark. And still emotionless.

“And you have a second-in-command or a less-disturbed future queen to replace her, right?”

“Her sisters will be the ones to kill her, should she fail to lead. Assuming they are not too weak to do so as well; all eight were kept for the old queen’s regular essence infusions as well, under similar conditions as the new queen. They, too, will likely be killed, until the only the youngest is alive, and there is nothing for the hive to do but wait for collapse and starvation.”

“Well, that sucks. Shouldn’t you have some contingency plan? I mean, I understand sibling rivalry, oh boy do I understand it, but really, if the entire hive is at stake, can’t they just work together? Polyarchy isn’t that bad.”

“‘I will not sting you, said the scorpion, for I would surely die.’ Then it did, and they both drowned. ‘Why?’ was the question. Because it is in their nature.”

“Profound. But surely you have more mental functionality than a simple arachnid, right?”

“Sir is correct. However, it would run entirely counter to noble changeling instincts. They have a hard time not killing each other by the time they’ve reached their second molt, and all of these have been raised on violence. The new queens will survive or die based on their merits, and the majority of the princesses will try to fight for power. This would not be so in a healthy colony, but the old queen has poisoned any chance of that.”

“So what, you’re just going to sit back and watch as your home metaphorically crumbles to the ground?”

“Most of this hive will flee when the starvation truly sets in, and will live solitarily amongst ponies until they die of old age. This one will likely return to Canterlot, and serve as a butler, as this one did before the invasion ruined this one’s previous posting and immaculate record.”

“So when you say they will live among the ponies... what exactly will they do? Just sit around and wait for death?”

“Sir presumes correctly. Some will seek similar employment to what they held before they were forced to shed their guises and aid the invasion. As they cannot breed without a noble present, only those who don’t stumble across another cluster or hive will die alone, likely without a significant other.”

“So what do you expect to come from this diplomatic exchange? Just a formality to say you are harmless so we don’t come in and kill you all before you die anyways?”

“If this one is permitted to be optimistic?”

“Why would I care one way or another? There’s really no need for all the formal garbage, dude, I’m not some noble with a stick up their rears.”

“It is a matter of pride, sir, this one attended the Canterlot Academy of Butlers, Maids, and Official Attendants. This one is proud to say that this one is an esteemed alumnus. It is a matter of honor, sir.”

“Fine, fine. Yes, you can be optimistic. Jeez.”

“The best and most preferred outcome of these talks is for an Equestrian Peacekeepers force being stationed here, to enforce the current regime and to suppress the hive’s populace until the younger princesses can finish their molts and be forced to splinter, or perhaps be put to the sword, for a few. Not all of the young nobles are... worth keeping.”

“Well, this may seem a bit crass, but why don’t you set up something like a brothel? You’d get ‘food’ and money, and I’m sure a lot of ponies as well as other species would be ecstatic to be able to ‘spend a night in the sack’ with something that could look like anything they wanted.”

“Sir is incorrect about two points. First, lust is no more food for changelings than candy is for ponies. It may be nice to have once in a while, but rare is the changeling who can survive on it. Second, a guise cannot change the overall body structure of a changeling, and cannot make the changeling appear to be anything that isn’t pony-shaped. Gryphons are the most extreme guise most queens can do, and they are the most adept of us all.”

“Well, you can’t say I didn’t offer some idea. Now how about we come up with a good one? Seriously, you can at least try to do something instead of just being hopeful. Carpe Diem, and all that crap!”

“Unless a suitable champion or source of safe, raw power could be found, there is not much that could work. As it is, either an alicorn or a star would have to be used, and this one very much doubts any would volunteer to be used as such.”

“Hmmm... Define ‘Champion’ for me, would you?”

“You stay and protect the queen until she dies of old age.” Not happening in this century. However...

“I may just have an idea...”

Next Chapter: Chapter 64 Estimated time remaining: 26 Hours, 28 Minutes

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