A Conspiracy of Order

Twilight-Drone, Cadance-Drone, and Shining-Drone stood side by side as the Nest-Tree implanted them with their orders for the night. None of the three so much as shivered as the pulses of electric pleasure and data ran up and down their spines; they were too used to the sensation, and too controlled by the Nest to show it.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Shining-Drone’s cock hung down, and the two mares dripped with abandon as their orders sank in. Three nights into the celebration, and it was almost time for them to make their move on Celestia. It had to be done perfectly, and each of them had their part to play for the operation.

Twilight-Drone felt the images of the plan popping into her head again, and it washed over her in the twelfth repetition of what they had to do.

Take tainted food to the tent.

Feed and hydrate Celestia with everything they had.

Keep her distracted as they tainted the other foods that the alicorn had in the tent so that everything contributed toward her distraction and corruption.

Keep her busy and awake with the feast and celebration all night long until the guards were completely shifted out for hosts.

And then…

Then they could begin.

The plan had been reiterated so many times over the course of their briefing that Twilight-Drone felt phantom orgasms rippling through her body whenever the plan was repeated again, almost as if her spine had been warped to take that pleasure whenever she thought of it. It was a fascinating little change to her biology, but she had no time to think about it. No desire, either; it meant nothing to the Nest, which meant it should mean nothing to her.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Twilight-Drone was dragged through the plan three more times before the root finally left her. The soft squelch of it leaving her hole was barely audible, no more so than the sound of the roots leaving Cadance-Drone or Shining-Drone. Once, they might have stumbled as the pleasure stopped and the support ceased, but no more. They just stood there, the parasites within adjusting and compensating for the sudden lack of stimulation. Muscles twitched across their bodies as they ‘booted up’ again, ready to accomplish the plan.

“The food.”

“This one will get it.”

“And the drink?”

“This one is responsible.”

“We are hydrated?”

“Filled with urine.”

“And seed.”

“And other fluids.”

“The plan cannot fail.”

“The plan will not fail.”

It was the most that any host had spoken to one another in private, and it was hard to tell whether it was the parasites emulating the nervousness that their hosts should have felt, or if it was merely a need to go over who was doing what. The plan was complete, of course, but they were meant to adjust as they went, to tweak the plan and who did what just to make sure that it succeeded. The Nest had given them that flexibility.

And yet, as they spoke, Twilight-Drone was aware that no outsider would have known which of the ponies was talking at any given point. They were so monotone, so empty of feeling and tone, that there was no life to them. They sounded the same, interchangeable as could be.

It was the way of the Nest. No host should be irreplaceable, and no host was.

Twilight-Drone stepped out of the tent. Shining-Drone would get the food and Cadance-Drone the drink. Twilight-Drone would go to Celestia’s tent, meet the Princess of the Sun, and make sure that the night started in a good place. The others would make sure that the drinks and food were properly tainted for the monarch, and –

A little shiver went up and down Twilight-Drone’s spine. The plan was implanted. They did not need to go over it again. All they had to do was follow it.

The purple mare trotted through the festival grounds once more. The latest day was winding down and the various ponies and other species from across Equestria were heading back to their tents. The buffalos and the griffons were being quite successful in luring Canterlot ponies into their tents for exotic nights with the foreigners, and the Nest-Tree had informed Twilight-Drone that the plan was coming along swimmingly. Though there were few new converts, there were many that had already been twisted, weakened for the infestation when the time came. One more night, maybe two, and there’d be a massive wave of rapidly-infested drones waiting to serve the Nest.

And the fact that they had managed to get Prince Blueblood meant that their contingency plan was safe. Even if they failed to get Celestia tonight, they still had guaranteed access to the palace. Even if they failed tonight, they would have a second chance.

But they shouldn’t fail. Best that they didn’t need the contingency plan at all.

Twilight-Drone trotted down the lanes between the tents, spotting some of the soldiers in Celestia’s employ that were already somewhat compromised. There was one – Sapphire Strikes – that was clearly broken down, either infested or so close that it didn’t matter. Big Mac had been very useful in breaking down those that were interested in the ‘country stallion,’ and there had been a surprising number of Canterlot males that were very curious about that. The Nest had made good use of him there.

Tonight, it would make good use of her.

Celestia’s tent was near the center of the festival grounds, and it was a massive structure. Yellow and white – just like most of the other regalia that referenced the Princess of the Sun – it was double the height of any other tent around it, and it spread out wide enough to be almost like a suite that had been lifted out of the palace proper. Two stallion guards, armored in the same regalia and the sun motif that was everywhere else, looked down at Twilight-Drone as she approached the tent.

“Is the princess back yet?” she asked.

“Almost,” one said, glancing toward the heavens.

Then the sun was not quite set yet. Either Celestia would be back before that, or –

Thump.

The larger alicorn alighted just behind Twilight-Drone, and the parasite made her jump, just to keep up the illusion. She turned around, putting a smile on her face that she had stopped meaning a long time ago, and shook her head.

“How do you keep sneaking up on me?”

“Oh, my favorite student. You’ll learn, one day.” Celestia chuckled. “So, do you finally have time for me?”

“Yes! I was looking forward to this all day. I was thinking we could talk until you have to go to bring the sun down?”

“Well, that’s not that long from now. Perhaps we should wait?”

“Oh, but it’s been so long,” Twilight-Drone said, throwing a begging, slightly whiny tone into her voice. “Please? Just for a while?”

“…How can I deny you?”

Celestia chuckled, leaning down and nuzzling her cheek gently. The alicorn stepped past her, her horn glowing as she flicked the tent-flaps open with her magic. Twilight-Drone followed after, the parasite inside already moving onto the next stage of the plan.

Distraction.

“So, how have things been in Ponyville?” Celestia asked, prancing over to a pile of cushions and lowering herself onto them. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to leave Canterlot and check on it, and you haven’t had the time for letters lately, I know.”

“I’m sorry about that, Princess.”

“Oh, don’t be. I don’t hold you to that. Just let me know what I’ve been missing.”

“Well…”

It was a series of lies, of course. Lies mixed with truth, because that was the only way to make a lie believable, but still, a bundle of lies. She told Celestia about the ‘sickness’ that had seized hold of the library tree and the way that she had been trying to keep that at bay. She told her about the way that the hospital had suddenly grown much more efficient. She told her about lessons of friendship that she had never learned, and about the new friends that she had never met, save through the Nest-Work that had copies of personalities and minds from all across Equestria that she could claim to have met and befriended.

And with each new story, the drone made sure to twist just enough fact into it to make it sound real. The hospital really had grown much more efficient, but it was through knowing the bodies of the various hosts so much more intimately. The lessons of friendship had been lessons that other hosts had learned across the land before their infestation, and had been passed on to her for her own use. And the friends…

Well, she supposed that they might have been friends if the parasites and the Nest had never been part of her life, but Celestia didn’t need to know about that part.

And as she spoke, Celestia listened. The alicorn smiled and nodded, clearly showing interest, but just as clearly with other things on her mind.

Something else, something new.

Just until Cadance-Drone and Shining-Drone showed up with the food and drink. Once they were all present, they could start making a move, but until then, she needed to keep Celestia here. Just a little bit longer, surely.

“But that’s enough about me,” Twilight-Drone said. “I haven’t heard from you, either, Princess. How’s the festival going for you?”

“Oh, dear, it’s been…something,” Celestia said, chuckling.

“Just…something?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. It’s lovely. But it’s a lot. There’s so many different cultures here, all gathered up to be together. And they’re so friendly.”

“And that’s a good thing. Right?”

“Well, it’s a new thing,” Celestia said, shaking her head as she curled her hooves under her. “I haven’t seen them be this close, this open with each other ever since I took the throne all those centuries ago.”

The parasite flinched. They were so concerned about keeping everything moving forward and keeping everything running smoothly that they might have overshot that. Everyone was, after all, very different to each other. There should have been some more conflict, more that needed to be resolved, rather than everyone being so eager to get along.

More to add to the Nest. More of an illusion to create.

“At least they’re all being peaceful, right?” Twilight-Drone said, putting on as hopeful a smile as felt right for the host. “They’re not causing problems. Maybe they just want to make sure that they make a good impression with you.”

“Or with you, my star pupil.” Celestia smiled. “Don’t forget, you have as much standing as us, these days.”

“Oh, I…I don’t know about that,” Twilight-Drone said, laughing and shaking her head. “I’m not so…well, not so important as you and Cadance and Luna.”

“I will not hear this self-deprecation. Either you will admit that you are equal, or we will have to have words, my dear.”

It was said with love. Once, Twilight-Drone would have heard that love. As it was, the parasite inside of her could understand what was meant and what was required. Twilight-Drone blushed, lowered her head, and followed the script that she had always followed, running through it at the perfect speed based off her memories of the past. She looked away, kicking a front hoof against the ground in embarrassment, and nodded.

“Fine. Fine, I’ll take it,” she muttered.

“Good.”

“Your Highness.”

One of the guards poked his head through the tent flap. The stallion nodded back outside.

“Princess Cadance and Shining Armor are here.”

“Show them in,” Celestia said.

It was time.

It didn’t take long to distract the Princess of the Sun from her duties with food, drink, and the company of other rulers. Twilight-Drone, Cadance-Drone, and Shining-Drone lounged around the tent, passing around cups of cider and other things as they swung from one topic to another, and Celestia indulged them. Of course, at first, it was only out of good manners, but as the food and drink started to get to her, she wanted to stick around.

It was just as the Nest had planned. They all knew her too well, and the Nest had all the information that the drones had. Hospitality became inertia, keeping her in place, and that inertia, fed by the tainted food and drink, became desire.

And desire became –

“Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve had good friends around. My guards are nice – and oh, they are such eye-candy sometimes – but they are nothing when it comes to conversation, dears. They really, really aren’t,” Celestia said, giggling as she talked.

Twilight-Drone nodded, watching as Cadance-Drone slipped around to the back of the tent where all the food and drink was. All the festival food had been eaten already, and they were almost through the gift-cider from the Crystal Empire. And while there was plenty of good stuff left, they needed to tweak it first.

Celestia continued in a surprisingly frank discussion of what she’d done with some of the guards on the nights when she was too lonely. Twilight-Drone’s cheeks burned appropriately, the parasite keeping her from looking too disinterested – but at the same time, not too interested – while Cadance-Drone slowly edged the top of the wine barrel open. She hopped up, spreading her hind legs and rolling her hips over the surface of the drink.

“Hehe, the stallions will always be a rowdy bunch,” Shining-Drone said, covering the sound of his host-wife’s urine squirting out. “You’d think that you’d be able to train that out of them, but if there’s a way, I never found it.”

“Oh, they’re very keen when I get in the mood. Heh. Some of the mares only need one, but an alicorn? We need at least a squad of males when we get needy. Cadance – oh, I bet Cadance has had some ‘fun’ times with you, hmm, hmm?”

“Princess Celestia! That’s – that’s my brother you’re teasing,” Twilight-Drone said.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard about it from one of them. Used to be that I’d wonder about having him in my bed. Your brother’s quite the looker.”

It was more than enough to keep the Princess focused more on the story than on what was going on around her. Twilight-Drone kept sputtering and blushing, putting on the act of the innocent mare that had done so much less than the experienced Princess. The more that she kept the Princess of the Sun distracted, the more that Cadance-Drone could taint just out of sight of the biggest alicorn in the room.

She and Shining-Drone kept coming up with different topics, the male drone playing up the more debauched nature of the stallions and Twilight-Drone raising her voice at the appropriate times. It meant that the constant work of Cadance-Drone, moving from barrel to platter to bowl, was more or less unseen.

It wasn’t always urine, of course. Sometimes Cadance-Drone ground her sex against them, leaving stains of her pussy on donuts or other sweets, and sometimes, she’d lightly stain the platter itself, letting the doughy treats soak it up.

Then she would come back, and Shining-Drone would get up, ostensibly to stretch his legs, but instead going behind the pile of treats and doing something similar. Oozing a bit of urine into drinks, spitting pre-cum or more onto some of the iced treats, and then moving on to something else.

If it weren’t for the fact that the parasites could alter the tastes of their bodily fluids to ensure that there wasn’t a traceable flavor back to them, it would have been risky. As it was, the Nest had altered them just enough to keep the taste from getting through, and Celestia was nearly too inebriated to notice at this point.

The plan was working well.

“The jousting tournament was a wonderful idea, by the way,” Celestia said, smiling and giggling. “So many wonderful displays of talent and…other things.”

“Yes, yes, my ponies are very well-practiced on the field,” Cadance-Drone said.

“And in the bedroom, I imagine, ha!”

“Mmm, well, I can’t say that they haven’t tried a few things,” the drone princess said, a smile on her face as fake as her satisfaction.

It was going well. Twilight-Drone could see her brother host working through some of the other foods, only stopping when Celestia used her magic to pull one of the trays of donuts out from under his cock. The drone-stallion bustled back to them, joining them on the pillows as if he had never left.

Celestia didn’t notice, of course; she was so deep in her cups and drugged food that there was no way that she would notice much of anything. Certainly, she hadn’t noticed that the sun hadn’t come down just yet and that she was late in pulling it out of the sky. That was all for the better for them.

Just a bit more, Twilight-Drone thought. Just a little bit more, and we can call out the root, and –

“Twilight.”

“Yes?” Twilight-Drone asked.

“Have you found any ‘special friends’ out there?” Celestia asked.

“…Uh, I – I don’t think I know what you mean, Your Highness.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. You know what I mean. Those ‘special someponies’ that everyone gets for a night or two. Haven’t you had some of those special friends? You know, the ones with benefits?”

If there was any indication that the Princess was completely drunk, that was it. From all the information from all the hosts that the Nest had collected, there was no way that this mare would have ever talked so frankly about sex in front of her star pupil. It just wasn’t the sort of relationship that they had.

It meant that the food was doing its job. It was almost time.

“Twiiiiiilight,” Celestia whined. “Come on. Tell me. Who’s your special somepony?”

“I – I don’t have one yet,” she said, putting on more embarrassment than the host actually felt. “It’s – uh – it’s something that I’m waiting for.”

“Your loss. There’s a lot of stallions around that would love the chance to be with you. Or mares, if you prefer that.”

Oh, if they had known that this would go so quickly, they would have planned to break Celestia in tonight. Twilight-Drone didn’t know if it was the sheer amount of tainted food and drink, or if the Princess of the Sun had been pushed further in other matters and was just tired enough for this to affect her, or if there was something else going on, but whatever it was, this was the perfect night to make a move.

The Nest part of her looked at the plan. The reminder of it tingled all the way up and down her spine in a reminder of the heavy emphasis that the Nest had placed on it earlier –

“Oh, I smell that,” Celestia said, giggling drunkenly. “Oh, Twilight’s got a little crush on someone. Do you want to tell me who?”

“N-no. It’s nothing. Just…just an idle thought.”

“Awwww, not going to tell your teacher?”

“A – a princess has to have some secrets,” Twilight-Drone said.

Celestia rolled her eyes, but went back to eating the donuts iced in pre-cum. The fact that she didn’t know what she was eating could have been arousing to some, but the fact was, none of the hosts cared. Twilight-Drone didn’t care, certainly, and she doubted that the other hosts did. They were just watching, waiting, knowing that the build-up would push her so far that she might not even need sex to be broken open for the Nest.

Just as they were about to move on, the tent-flap swung open. All three of them whipped their heads around toward the intruder in unison –

No. Break it up. Not so close.

Thankfully, Princess Luna was so focused on Celestia that she didn’t seem to notice the unnaturally-smooth movements of the three hosts. While they worked on differentiating themselves from each other again, the smaller alicorn charged right up to her sister and stomped her front hoof.

“Sister! It is imperative that you lower the sun at once!”

“The sun? Didn’t I do that?” Celestia asked.

“No. It is still hovering on the edge of the horizon. I cannot bring up the moon until you bring the sun down. What is the matter with you?”

“Oh, dear. Dear, dear, dear. I – oof!”

Celestia stumbled as she tried to stand, tumbling back to the pillows. Drunk, indeed, and more than slightly impaired: Twilight-Drone saw a small patch of wet on the pillows where the biggest alicorn had been lying down. She used her magic to cover it with another pillow before Luna could see.

“Sister. Get on your hooves. This is important.”

“Luna, what’s the matter?”

“I…”

The dark-furred mare looked back at Twilight-Drone and the others. She hesitated, then shook her head.

“Another time. But take down the sun before you waste any more time. You don’t want to keep everyone up.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll – oooh. Oh, goodness. I think…I’ll be right back. I need to…to soak my head and sober up.”

“Yes…yes, you do.”

Luna walked the Princess of the Sun out of her tent. When the three hosts were alone once more, they remained still. They did not have the pony-urge to stamp a hoof or express their frustrations physically, nor did they feel them so strongly as they might have as more ‘living’ beings.

And yet, at the same time, they had learned enough in their connections to know what frustration was, and to feel a hint of it. To have the white-furred mare so close to infestation and to have it snatched away at the last minute was the definition of infuriating. They could have had this done minutes ago.

Twilight-Drone slowly pushed herself up, getting to her hooves. There was no shaking of her head, no organic response to the frustration or the shift in their objective. Instead, she looked at the other two hosts.

“You will finish?”

“Yes,” Cadance-Drone said.

“We will wait. She will return,” Shining-Drone added.

“Good.”

“It will be done.”

“Infestation will occur.”

“Good,” Twilight-Drone repeated.

There was little time for them to speak past that. There was every chance that Luna might return with or without Celestia, and they couldn’t afford to be connected to the Nest to speed this up. If they were caught like that, the conspiracy would be exposed, and that would be the end of it for all of the Nest-Trees. They had to be quiet, just for a little bit longer. Once they had the two alicorn sisters, the rest of Equestria wouldn’t really be a problem.

But that was still a little ways off.

Twilight-Drone made her way to the front of the tent. Flicking the flap open, she checked the faces of the guards.

One by one, they looked at her and dropped the ‘mask’ expression that they wore. They were all hosts. They were all infested.

Celestia would not be safe tonight. The guards would not come if she called for help, and Luna would be too busy in the sky to respond to any cries, even if she could hear them.

Tonight’s the night.

Perhaps not a guarantee that they would infest the Princess of the Sun, but they would come close. That was all that mattered. They would be able to start addicting her to their presence, giving her a reason to keep coming back even if she didn’t remember why. Tonight, tomorrow night, or the next: one of them would be successful.

Twilight-Drone trotted down the lanes of the festival back to her tent. The other ponies were quieter, either drugged more than they had been or already infested. Those that were still waiting for the Nest to claim them wobbled, clearly drunk or otherwise inebriated, and they were either leaning on the sides of their partners for the night or looking for one that would give them the good time that they needed.

There was no satisfied smile for the purple alicorn. There was no need for one.

Once she reached her tent, she turned around and shut the flap with a bit of magic. Her tail went up and the root came out, sliding in without a sound.

Pulse.

Shock.

Throb.

The Nest connected with her, demanding an update in the way that only something completely emotionless could manage. The memories of the night streamed down her spine into the root connection, going into the ground and all the way to the Nest-Tree. She could feel it being absorbed, knew that it was being analyzed with the help of other ponies like Raggedy-Drone and the others that were perpetually connected to the Nest, and more plans were being made.

No sooner had she started to wonder what the next plan would be than it was rammed into her. The pulse nearly had her body climaxing while she stared straight ahead, her mind filled with a new question.

Luna was worried. Why?

That still-image from her memory, the expression of worry writ large across Luna’s face, was suddenly called into question. She had not been worried about the sun, or about Celestia. There was something else that had driven her into the tent, something else that had demanded her attention and made her interrupt her older sister’s fun with her friends. The Nest knew that wasn’t typical of the Princess of the Moon, and now, it wanted to know why. What made Luna so concerned?

Twilight-Drone’s mind was pulled into the analysis, dragged into service to try and understand what was happening. The knowledge that she had of the royal siblings was dragged out, examined, run from end to end in the Nest’s archives. The memory of her being Nightmare Moon, the experiences around the formal sister, the way that the darker one was arguably more powerful and more resistant to corruption due to her time as the Nightmare, was all pulled out and reexamined and touched on.

But none of that explained that expression of concern that verged on fear. None of it quite made it make sense.

It wasn’t until they reached the part of Twilight-Drone’s memories that touched on the fact that the Princess of the Moon was also the princess of dreams that they started to understand. If the drones weren’t dreaming – and while they hadn’t been focusing on that, Twilight-Drone could feel the Nest’s confusion about whether they were or not – then the Princess of the Moon would know that something was wrong when she didn’t find enough dreams out there.

Twilight-Drone felt the sudden dullness of silence through her system. There was no sudden shock, no pulsing pleasure that ran up and down her spine. The host felt almost dead connected to the root without the Nest ‘talking’ back. To feel the emptiness of nothing, not even a thought on the other end, was stark and, for the first time in a very long time, terrifying.

The silence continued, and the alicorn mare stood there without a word. The parasite within kept her still, but even it felt the strange concern that arose from endless silence. What was happening? Why was there nothing? Was the Nest lost?

Another second passed.

And another.

And another.

Finally, the Nest ‘spoke’ again, downloading information to the mare and sending it rushing up her spine. Celestia would be taken tonight, the Nest decided; they needed to take the risk to make sure that they were safe if Luna was tracking them down. The Nest had another plan for that, something that it was still developing – and that Twilight-Drone would have to aid it in making – but there were possibilities.

Twilight-Drone’s parasite emanated comfort – or at much comfort as it was possible for a creature of the Nest to feel – back at that. Twilight-Drone was more focused on the pleasure rippling up and down her spine and on the possibilities that it might be helpful again. It hadn’t been allowed to be one of the processors since leaving Ponyville, and it missed thinking. Thinking and plotting, planning and suggesting.

It was what it was good at.

It. It. Not she, anymore. Just…it. Twilight-Drone felt the shift happened and, for the briefest of moments, felt curious. Such a shift did happen – the mare had felt it happen to Dapper-Drone through the records that the Nest kept – but it hadn’t known that such a shift would happen to it. Not this soon, not this quickly.

But it…it was right. ‘She’ implied that it was more than just a bit of meat that accomplished what the Nest wanted. ‘She’ was something that would do things on her own. It, however? It was an extension of someone’s will, a tool, an object, and that felt far more suitable to what the drone had become.

It.

It.

It.

Twilight-Drone settled further and further into its own mind, falling into the state where it would be a processor for the Nest for the night. Cadance-Drone and Shining-Drone would finish the job of breaking Celestia in and making her one of the infested. There was no need to think about that anymore. All that it had to do was put its considerable intelligence towards the Nest’s purposes of solving the Luna problem.

And as the humming, pulsing feeling of the Nest’s connection through its spine and head intensified, Twilight-Drone surrendered to the needs of the Nest. It was, after all, nothing but a drone, and a drone obeyed.

It.

It.

It.