At the bottom of Canterlot Mountain, a dozen ponies slogged away on the running track of a large sporting field. Their energy had been long spent over the last forty minutes, yet they were still trudging on. One pony in particular forced her aching limbs to pound into the ground, even as the cold February air punished her efforts by burning in her sore lungs.
Yet, Shetland continued, her eyes focused solely on the starting block. A large drop of sweat threatened her eye, yet she refused to stop and wipe it off. She had to maintain her lead and this thought helped her propel herself forward, passing an utterly exhausted unicorn, who trotted at only half her speed. It brought a smile to her face. She was three rounds ahead of everypony else and within these last five minutes, she was determined to add a fourth to it. So, grinding her teeth, she lowered her head and picked up her pace, looking like a charging bull. Shetland was a tall earthpony mare, towering over most ponies and reaching at least a couple inches over the rest. She resembled a brawny bullock, having the same width of shoulders. Her coat, drenched in sweat, shone in the light as a glimmering brown. Her cutie mark showed an exploding firework, the colorful sparkles blending together with her sweat.
That moment, a gust of cold wind swept over her forehead and Shetland raised her head, relishing in the small gift as it blew the sweaty, cream colored mane out of her face. Every second felt painful and yet, it blurred together, and she lost track of the time. Instead of focusing on her count, her perception shrunk to only the next turn, the next few steps. And while it was painful, each time she reached her small goal, it blurred together with the goals before. She was so focused that she almost missed the shrill scream of a whistle, which brought everyone to freeze in their tracks, wiping their foreheads and addressing their thanks to the heavens. They all gathered around the old pegasus with the whistle, leaning on each other, splashing water on their faces while Shetland did her best to stand upright and avoid panting too loudly. She looked over to the judges as they made their notes on clipboards, an uneasy feeling settling in her chest. This must've been enough, she told herself. She had beaten everyone else by a distance on this test, surely that would get her a place in this mission.
Since she was a filly, Shetland had always dreamt of visiting the stars, and this was her last chance. If she did not get one of the two spots for this job, she'd have to wait for the next year and go through the same process again.
“Alright,” The old pegasus, a white stallion whose wings were tucked tightly to his sides, put down his notebook. “Thank you all for participating in this physical evaluation. We'll notify you per letter within the week. Have a good day, you've deserved yourself a rest”
There it was, Shetland thought, staying in her spot as the other applicants made their way to the showers.
Whistle gave her a look, craning his neck. With pegasi being the smallest pony race to begin with, he was visibly uncomfortable, being so close to a mare more than two heads taller than himself. “Do you have a question?”
“Yes, please.” Shetland said, trying to appear as friendly and casual as possible. “I was simply wondering about the test and how much our performance influences your eventual decision.”
He raised an eyebrow.
Right, right, get to the point, she thought. "Could you tell me whether my chances-"
“No, I'm afraid I cannot.” he said gruffly and took a step back to relieve his neck a little. “I can't tell the applicants. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah.” she replied, trying to hide her disappointment. “Of course, rules are rules. Thank you for your time.”
It's always the same. she thought as she entered the showers. Never a straight answer. No feedback, just like all the other times…” Her train of thought stopped as the shower released a stream of cold water on her head, dousing her worries away. Her movements were sluggish, her muscles overburdened from the murderous pace she had pulled herself through in the track. And the weightlifting and the shooting tests before. And the obstacle course in the Everfree Swamp yesterday, coupled with lengthy, mentally exhausting interviews...
Applying for a job was everything but easy, especially if that place was sought by so many, aiming for a quick rise in rank in Equestria’s colony.
As she stepped outside, a voice greeted her, even though it seemed like multiple, as if a whole group of young mares was speaking at once. Shetland looked around and saw the source of the shout: her best friend Ciloa Pie.
Ciloa was a changeling whose chipper attitude shone through her smile as she waved enthusiastically.
“Hey, Ciloa.” Shetland returned her greeting, meeting her at her side of the street.
“You were amazing out there!” Ciloa said, lightly boxing Shetland a few inches under her shoulder, which was the highest point she could comfortably reach.
“I saw you, from up there!” She pointed at a formation of clouds just over the sporting area. “You were amazing, left everyone in the dust. You're basically guaranteed the spot!”
“That's what I thought the last four times, Cily.” Shetland said somberly. It was her last chance. from five missions, she had been denied four times. And each one came as a surprise to her, the interviews always appeared to go fine, she'd always been admitted to the physical tests where she generally surpassed any other contestant- being tall had its advantages- and then… silence. For weeks. Until the letter came: No, we cannot accept your application, bla bla, better candidates, truly sorry bla bla. Never a reason, never an explanation, just a flat out refusal she had no basis to argue with. Or understand.
She felt Ciloa’s hoof on her shoulder. “I'll cross my hooves for you, Shetty. It'd be awesome if we could go together."
Ciloa was assigned to the same place Shetland sought and was even sheduled to depart with the same ship. However, her assignment was a scientific one. Having acquired a geology degree, she was sent to study alien rocks.
“That's the hope.” Shetland said, looking up Canterlot mountain, covered in the sprawling metropolis that was Equestria's capital city. Her legs hurt at the mere sight. “Go ahead, I'll take my time.”
Ciloa shrugged. “I'll stay with you.”
“Won't be fun, all I'm gonna do is complain how much my hooves hurt.”
“What can I say?” Ciloa replied with a grin. “I love to see you suffer.”
Shetland threw out a playful slap, which Ciloa dodged with a quick jump backwards. “Hate you, too.” Shetland said, and both mares shared a laugh.
It was close to noon when they arrived at their small home. It used to be a little student home for the university of geology, but when Ciloa’s roommate dropped out, she'd just invited Shetland to live with her instead. And even though her studies were over, the house would only be needed next semester, and both of them hoped to be far, far away from the planet by then. This accommodation had a few advantages, the most important one being that it was cheap. As for disadvantages, Shetland lowered her head to avoid the doorframe. The house wasn't exactly built for her dimensions and her neck increasingly began to remind her of it. She always felt just a little squeezed in these rooms. But living together with a friend beats living with your mother by lengths.
Ciloa zipped through the door and past Shetland. “Would you mind checking the mail? I'm gonna whip us up some sandwiches.”
“How many?” Shetland asked as she retrieved the letters, throwing away an advertisement for a delivery service without a second look.
“Seven.”
Shetland made her way to the couch. It let out a suffering creak as she sat down, sorting the mail. There was a letter for Ciloa from her cousins. Shetland fondly remembered visiting them. The Pie family maintained an alligator reservoir in the south of Equestria. They were an awfully nice bunch and had many a story to tell. She made a note to ask Ciloa what it was about.
Next came a letter from Ciloa’s mother and a few more advertisements Shetland mechanically sorted out.
“Anything interesting?” Ciloa asked as she came over, levitating a big plate of sandwiches. “Here you go, seven… and three for me.”
Shetland gave her a dirty look. “Ha. ha.”
“So you don't want them?” Ciloa raised an eyebrow.
“I didn't say that!”
As Shetland picked up her first sandwich, Ciloa took the letters from her family. “Just hope they're not inviting me over, I'd hate to tell them I can't go.” She glanced over. “You got a letter there, too, Shetty.”
Letting out a sigh, Shetland held up the last letter. It was bigger than the rest and the envelope was colored in a faint shade of purple. A bright pink star sealed the letter, surrounded by five smaller ones. Below it stood two letters, a golden, ornate TS.
Shetland ripped open the letter, turning away from Ciloa so she couldn't peek.
Dear Shetland,
I hope you are enjoying your life in Canterlot with your friends, it is truly wonderful that you three got as close as you did-
Shetland skimmed through a few paragraphs of niceties.
-please convey my warm greetings to them. And tell them they are always welcome to visit me at the castle. It gets a little lonely sometimes.
She noted that the last dot appeared to be a little bigger and darker than the rest.
I know you really want to get into space and that the military program appeared like the easiest option for you, but there are always alternatives. For example, the university of marine biology in Baltimare still has spots for an aspiring student-
She crumpled the letter between her hooves and threw it across the room, missing the trashcan by a few hooves. Ciloa gave her a bemused look. “You know, one day you'll get locked up for treating royal messages like this.”
Shetland snorted. “Mom just wants to get me to go back to school. Again. You'd think a life experience of two-hundred years teaches you the meaning of NO.” Her eyes wandered over a poster of a pony in powered armor, his hoof raised to his head in a salute as his chest filled with pride. A member of the Voidmarines. Her way to the stars. To the colony of Horizon.
“Maybe it teaches you the benefits of stubbornness.” Ciloa suggested with a grin.
Shetland chomped into a sandwich.
Meanwhile, Ciloa leaned back and levitated the weeded out letters over to the bin. “You know, your mom could probably help you getting the job. With your talent and Princess Twilight voting for you, they'll have a hard time rejecting you.”
Shetland let out a long groan. “I wanna do this by myself, Cily, If she just gets me the job, then I didn't really earn it, right?”
“But, you don’t exactly have that many options anymore, right?” Before Shetland had a chance to answer, Ciloa quickly interjected. “Just go and visit her, you have nothing to lose.”
“I guess… but she'll try and talk me out of it again and she'll pressure me to study.” Shetland whined, but Ciloa calmly repeated:
“Nothing. To lose.”
Shetland slumped back on the sofa. “Alright, I guess… I'll try seeing her sometime this week.”
“Great.” Ciloa grinned. Her eyes darted from Shetland's empty plate to her own. “Want one more sandwich?”
Just then, the doorbell rang.
“I'll get it.” Shetland groaned, forcing her aching muscles out of the couch. “Who's there?”
“Press,” a male voice answered. On the couch, Ciloa's head popped up, before checking her reflection in the mirror
“Press what?” Shetland asked with a smirk.
“Oh, haha, Shetty. Let me in.”
Press was a unicorn with a thick yellow coat and a flagpole as his cutie mark. He was a few inches taller than Ciloa and if both stood upright, he could probably tickle Shetland's chin with his horn.
He stepped through the door, his eyes gleaming with inner light. “I did it!” he exclaimed. He seemed to be short of breath, but that did little to dim his joy. “I've finished the stupid test!”
“Awesome!” Shetland grinned, holding her hoof forward as he rose to meet it with his own. He had applied for the same job as her and they'd promised to vouch for one another should one get accepted.
“Aww, Shetty, It'd be awesome if we all get sent together...” he leaned to the side, looking past her. “Speaking of…”
“She's here, Press,” Shetland grinned. “Probably just in the bathroom.”
“Oh, bad timing.” he sighed. Shetland was pretty certain it had nothing to do with timing.
“Hey, Ciloa,” she called up the stairs. “You gonna greet Press here or what?”
A few moments later the changeling came down, but she looked a little different. Her features were now drawn sharper and her lips smoother than before as she cast a nervous smile his way “Hello.”
“Hey.”
“How'd it go?” she asked.
“Pretty well. But I'm not as good as our big girl here. If she doesn't get in, nopony will.”
“Thanks, pal.” Shetland said. “But we can really just hope now. Who knows what stupid reasons they have for picking out their candidates. Maybe they think I won't fit into a spaceship.”
“A legit concern~” Ciloa teased.
“Don't poke her when she's down, Ciloa.” Press scolded. “But seriously, Shetty, now is not the time to feel down, we're finally done with the stupid tests and interviews, we should celebrate! What do you say?” He reached a hoof out to her with a big smile.
“What do I say? Your treat!” She said, copying his grin.
“WHAT? No way, you eat like a party pony!”
“No, I don't, I just have a bigger stomach!” Shetland protested.
At that, Ciloa leaned over to Press and whispered, plainly audibly:
“Eight. Sandwiches.”
“Hey, I really cut into my reserves today!” Shetland protested, but it just caused them to burst out laughing. “I have a bigger stomach than you guys! That's all... Heh-” And then she too began to chuckle.
It was high noon when the three friends stepped into the bright and lively streets of Canterlot. Ciloa was eager to charge ahead, but to her chagrin, both Press and Shetland were complaining about their hurting legs and so she constantly had to slow down after leaving them a few metres behind. Her wings were buzzing impatiently as she once again fell back between them.
“A little slower than you're used to, huh?” Press asked sympathetically.
“You're like snails!” she complained. “If I was by myself, I'd already be partying.”
“Actually, we're partying, you're just tagging along.” Shetland pointed out.
“I don't need my friends to party for their sake.”
“I don't think that's how logic works, Cily.” Shetland said.
Ciloa sighed. “Are we there yet?”
“No.” Shetland frowned.
“Can I just go ahead?”
“Preferably not.”
“Are we at least close?”
“Not even a quarter.”
They reached a street blocked off by red traffic lights. Ciloa let out a hefty groan. “Ugh, If we could just go over-”
“Not all of us have the luxury of just passing by the traffic! Some of us have to do this every day, so just be quiet, alright?” Shetland snapped.
Taken aback, Ciloa looked up at Shetland’s stony expression. “Sorry…” she mumbled, folding her wings on her back.
“No, I'm sorry.” Shetland sighed.
“Canterlot is really pretty, don't you think?” Press said in an obvious attempt to mollify the two mares.
Still, Shetland had to agree. Ancient castle-esque structures were intermingled and, in some cases, even expanded with modern constructions with a heavy use of glass, supported by beams of steel. What especially stood out to Shetland were the occasional glass tubes connecting two or more of these buildings, where she could see ponies making their busy way only a few metres above the streets. And the ponies, the streets were full of them. Many would have complained, but a mare of Shetlands dimensions was like a rock in a river and all the passersby were water pooling around her. And so Shetland lead the way as her friends followed closely behind and she was able to enjoy the variety because, while the streets were filled to the brim with earth ponies and unicorns and the sky was teeming with flight, there was still more to see. Only a few metres away a changeling dressed in a business suit climbed out of a sewer cover, a shortcut from the inside of Canterlot mountain which was mostly populated by the insectoid equines. In front of a store stood a family of zebras, griffons flew through the sky, a turtle was pushed forwards by impatient hyenas and in the middle of a tight crowd, towering over everyone else, stood a minotaur.
Then they turned a corner, moving towards a small, but eye-catching eatery. It was almost shockingly white, of such pristine cleanliness that the surrounding buildings appeared dirty in comparison. A camera tracked their motions as they stepped into a modestly sized room with a bar and a few spaced-out tables, allowing even Shetland to comfortably maneuver between them. Ciloa rushed ahead, but Press stood tentatively in the doorway, staring at the bar, where a robot said goodbye to a family of pegasi. Shetland went back and touched his shoulder to catch his attention and he followed her to the table. Every now and then he threw a look at the bar while Shetland struggled to find a comfortable position in her chair, as the hoofrests wedged into her sides.
Ciloa passed out the menus, but before Shetland could even take a look at it, a robot had approached their table. It was clearly modeled to resemble a mare. The body was covered in metallic plates, polished with extreme care so that the light reflected on it, forcing Shetland to narrow her eyes.
“Welcome to the Turing Tart.” The waitress said, her voice synthesized by hidden speakers, the area where a mouth would have been covered by a solid plate.“It is always good to see you, Miss Sparkle. Miss Pie.” She gave a nod to Ciloa, then fixated on Press. “Are you a friend of hers, too?”
Press seemed surprised to be spoken to and stared for a few uncomfortable seconds into the robot's eyes. Shetland couldn’t mind him, as those eyes were like black tunnels with only tiny blue, flickering lights shining from the end. However, she had to stop her friend from appearing like an ass and so she jumped in.
“Yeah, he's a friend.”
The robots eyelights shrunk to even tinier pinpricks, but otherwise she seemed fully oblivious to the awkwardness.
“Welcome, friend of Shetland Sparkle.” She said and turned her head back to the large mare. “What would you like?”
“One Nexus-Cola, large.”
“Just some juice for me, I'm trying to stay lean.” Ciloa said with a grin to Shetland.
“Hey, I am lean. For… my size!” Shetland retorted lamely. Ciloa laughed.
“That chair doesn't agree with you~”
The waitress tilted her head. “Please clarify: Does the discomfort come from a fear that the chair could be damaged by your weight or because it does not comfortably contain the width of your rear?” Shetland facehooved, her cheeks flaring.
“Its squishing your butt!” Ciloa said between fits of giggles and even Press woke from his trance to join in.
The robot, oblivious of the amusement she caused, continued her former statement. “If it is the former, I can assure you not to worry, as the chairs are capable of holding even robot ponies such as myself and despite your larger size, your weight still does not exceed mine. If it is the latter, we have a few special chairs available in case visitors belonging to larger species such as Minotaurs, Buffalos and Alicorns-”
“YES, just get one of them!” Shetland shouted over the laughter of her friends and covered her eyes with her hooves. The waitress turned to Press.
“Would you like to order something, too?”
Taken aback, Press hurriedly grabbed the menu and hastily flipped through it, but Shetland pushed his hoof down. “He'd like the same as me, medium.”
“Thank you.” She said and turned to leave. When there was a bit of distance, Shetland turned to Press and raised an eyebrow.
“What was that about, Press?” She asked
“I-I don't know,” he stammered and bit his lip as he glanced at the back of the mechanical mare. “How do you talk to robots?”
“Just like you would to a normal pony,” Ciloa said, looking at him crossly. “Haven't you ever met one?”
“I’ve seen them sometimes, but…” he paused, glancing to the counter once again. “I haven't specifically sought them out, I guess.”
“And you haven't ever went to a place like this, that's worked by them?” Ciloa asked.
“I'd feel weird going to a place just to see the robots. Don't you?”
Ciloa and Shetland exchanged looks. Then they both shrugged.
“My roommate before Shetty was a bot.” Ciloa said. “She always took me here after an exam.”
“And mom pretty much made herself the patron of A.Is, you bet I met a lot of them.” Shetland said. “It's pretty normal for me, too.”
Press groaned. “So I stand out. Of course.”
Ciloa snickered. “I think it's the changeling who stands out in the pony group.”
Shetland cleared her throat and placed a hoof on her own head, then lowered it far down to Ciloa's.
“Yeah, right.” Press let out a relieved laughter. “You stick out anywhere!”
As their drinks arrived, Press turned to the robot with a forced smile. “Thank you… uhm…”
“My name is Toasty Crunch,” the mechanical mare responded. “ And please do not worry, my kind is used to a certain tenseness when encountering ponies with little exposure to social A.Is. No offense has been taken.”
His mouth fell open. “You… listened in on us?”
Her ears twitched, eliciting a metallic creak. “I am required to delete any observation of guests from my memory after a timespan of 10 minutes. Your privacy is one of our priorities.”
For a moment, Press was speechless. “Do you hear everything in this restaurant?” A fold appeared on his forehead as he tried to remember what exactly they had said.
“Affirmative.”
“Why don't you delete it immediately?” He burst out.
“And couldn't you have just, like, reduced your audio pickup or something?” Shetland wondered.
A moment of silence passed and one odd moment, Shetland was certain she could hear the sound of Toasty's processor as it searched for an answer. Instead however, it came from Ciloa.
“Is it security related?”
The robot lowered her head. Shetland had to strain her ears to hear her low-volume voice. “Please do not misunderstand, aggression from biological intelligence towards artificial intelligence is far from common, but the threat is also far from non-existent. We frequently struggle with scratchwork on our walls. Propaganda like ‘Never born, never lived’ or ‘Remember Hiroshimare’. Please understand the little intrusion of your privacy, we deemed it necessary.”
“Damn... that sucks,” Press mumbled, his eyes locked on the table surface.
“It has been a very long time since the last serious offense has occurred.” Toasty appeased him. “Your drinks will be seven bits, by the way.”
Press covered for the group, shoving two more bits into the robot’s hoof with a nervous smile. Ciloa was already digging in her purse to slide her own share over, but Shetland leaned back with a smirk. “Your treat, Press, remember?”
He gave her a stink eye. She grinned. “What, you're gonna go out with two mares and then make them pay?”
Both he and Ciloa gave her a sour look. The changeling moved her two bits over to Press inchmeal. Shetland snickered, unworried. Press rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitched upwards.
“You know, I saw this stall just down the street and I wouldn't say no to some roasted crickets.” She said passively. A second later she realized her mistake as Press stopped and gave her a warning look.
“Which I'll pay for myself, no worries.” Shetland gave in with an amused shake of her head.
Ciloa decided the day was perfect to spend in an open-air-pool and without hesitation Press voted for her, flashing a smile her way. However, both his and Shetland’s limbs still felt a little sore and so they leisurely splashed around in the warm water, watching Ciloa duck and dive, her motions showing the grace of a seahorse… or at least Shetland presumed that's what Press would have said if she hadn't splashed his face with water that moment. He sputtered and splashed back and soon they were locked in a three-way merciless battle. Laughing, Shetland gave up as her friends allied against her, both using their magic to hit her with streams of water from both sides. Congratulating their victory she clapped them on the back and suddenly gripped their heads, dipping them both underwater. Soon after they reemerged, sputtering and glaring, they started a contest who could make the most impressive jump from the highest springboard, which Shetland had in the bag. Maybe she even got a little swept away from her friends cheering whenever they were hit by the splash and so she tried over and over until her rump felt like that one time as a foal Twilight caught her in the adult-section of the library. But instead of shame, all she felt now was an unconquerable cheerfulness as she and her friend toured through Canterlot. She barely noticed the passage of time until she realized that the streets were now illuminated by huge billboards and street lights. Still, Ciloa seemed to have a last goal in mind and that goal, Shetland presumed, was the bottom of a glass.
She would not be disappointed, as ten minutes later, they stood in front of a bar right next to the campus of her old university. Shetland and Press threw her uneasy looks.
“What?” She asked, her smile cracking. “It’s the perfect way to end the day. Smashed!”
Press raised a hoof, his eyes looking up to Shetland’s. “Not gonna disagree with you here, but… we shouldn't… all get drunk, y'know?”
“Yeah,” Shetland agreed, biting her lip as she avoided his look with the same effort he tried to meet hers. “Somepony's gotta get the others back home when they're drunk off their hooves.”
Ciloa took a longing look over her shoulder towards the bar. “Alright, it's your celebration, I'll just stick it out.”
“No way!” Press immediately interjected. “I'll do it.”
She shook her head. “It's your celebration, Press. I'll stay sober and watch out.”
“I'll stay sober,” Shetland flashed a smirk. “After all, even I would feel like a jerk if I made him pay for my drinks while he can't have any.”
“I could still sit it out…” Ciloa offered, but Shetland waved it off.
“If I get hammered, it'd take more than one of you to watch out for me.”
Neither of her friends managed a comeback from that. “Thanks, Shetty.” Ciloa said as a grin grew on her face and she bounced through the door. Shetland wanted to follow, but Press grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.
“Shetland, what drink is her favorite?” he whispered quietly, fidgeting on his hooves and throwing an apprehensive look at the entrance.
She could make fun of him later, Shetland decided as she tried to think back. To her knowledge Ciloa would drink just about anything, really. “I've seen her order cream liquor lots of times, you probably can't go wrong with that. The real question is whether you brought enough money.”
“With your grabby hooves out of my purse? More than enough.”
“I wouldn't be that sure if I were you.” she said half jokingly, half warningly.
“I'll watch out,” he chuckled. Then he raised a hoof to Shetland’s shoulder. “Thanks for sticking this out, Shetty.”
“Wouldn't want a repeat of last time.” She confirmed. “Go get her. Stay cool.”
“You'll make sure it doesn't get out of hoof, right?” He nibbled on his lip.
“You know me, I always got your back.” She assured him and nudged him towards the bar entrance. “Now get in. Any moment now, she'll reach the point where she won't remember a thing tomorrow.”
She followed after him. The air was hot, deafening music played and every few steps a patch of fur brushed over her as she made her way through the cramped maze of tables and ponies. It peeved her a little to see Press weave through the bar with ease, but at least Ciloa had somehow managed to nab an empty table where they sat, she and Press on one side while Shetland claimed an entire bench for herself.
Even just across the table, Shetland found it difficult to make out exactly what her friends were saying. The stench of alcohol stung her nose and after Press had ordered Cream Liquor for Ciloa and some fruity cocktail for himself, she had to satisfy herself with a glass of water. Her friends seemed to have fun however, as they raised their glasses and tried to gulp down their booze quicker than the other. Press didn't even manage a quarter when Ciloa slammed down her glass and she had to pat his back as he coughed and sputtered. After that, he slowed down considerably, though the changeling apparently knew no such restraints.
Shetland leaned back, letting her eyes wander. As much as she told herself it was the most reasonable choice, she could not help but feel a little bit left out, especially as Press, in a moment of bravery, reached out to hold Ciloa’s hoof with his own and sipped a little from her glass. Shetland shook her head, trying to drown out the music, the ponies and especially her friends in her thoughts. She thought about the test, which went so well… which she would have thought in the bag if she hadn’t failed before under the same circumstances. There was no guarantee. She never learned what the problem was the last few times, so would it happen again? Her worry grew as these thoughts crept in her mind. Her last chance was probably being decided on this very moment and all she could do was sit in a bar and rack her brain about it. If only there was something she could do to increase her chances right now. Her eyes wandered to Ciloa, whose laughter sounded even above the music. Press’s confused expression made it obvious he didn’t think his joke was good enough to incite a reaction like that.
Shetland’s head sagged down as she once again attempted to retreat into her mind, when she heard someone speak. Unable to make out the exact words, she turned to a red unicorn who smiled up at her. Confused, she leaned close to him and peeked her ears. His smile faltered a little and for a moment he seemed like he was about to back off. She paid it no mind, she was used to ponies being intimidated if she got too close. But this one seemed a little braver than that as he quickly regained his smile.
“Hello, My name is Crimson Light. Call me Crimson.” He extended a hoof which she shook, matching his smile.
“I'm Shetland. Nice to meet you.”
“I saw you this morning at the test. You were amazing, pretty sure you've broken a record there, Shetland.”
She bashfully rubbed the back of her head as a faint shade of pink appeared on her cheeks. “Uhm, thank you for the compliment.” she said and tried to remember the faces of the other participants. “Were you taking the test, too?”
“Oh, oh no, not today.” He grinned. “I've finished mine a month ago, but I came to see the others today. Best to know your competition… or potential friends.”
So there's even more competition than I'd realized, Shetland thought sourly. Outwardly she maintained a smile. “Thats nice to know. Maybe you could put in a word for me…?”
“HA!” Crimson called out. “I doubt you’ll need it, seeing how you left everypony in the dirt.”
She matched his chuckle, although maybe it sounded a little forced. “Every bit counts.”
“That it does, though I think I require your word more than you mine.” He grinned. Then the music picked up and Shetland folded her ears down, which forced Crimson to shout. “I THINK THEY'RE OPENING THE DANCE FLOOR, WANNA GO FOR A SPIN?”
Shetland threw a look at Press and Ciloa, who, oblivious to the booming music, snuck close together, leaning on each other for support. With no immediate emergency in sight, Shetland accepted Crimson’s offer: the much better alternative to sitting and waiting and covering her ears.
While at first bothersome, it did not take long until they cleared a part of the dancefloor by sheer virtue of Shetland accidentally bumping into a few other pairs. Crimson was not used to dancing with a mare whose collarbone was on the same level as his eyes, but she quickly informed him of the how, taken straight from tips her mother had given her. It took him a few minutes but then they broke out into an energetic dance which scared almost a dozen ponies off the dancefloor. When they, exhausted and sweaty, sat down on a bench, they began chatting. Shetland would not remember any of it, the contents of their conversation swallowed up by music, bad air and heavy breathing, but it was fun. Crimson was humorous and optimistic and he seemed a little infatuated with her size. Or maybe she read too much into it and he simply liked her looks? Either way, his friendliness was intoxicating. They wondered what their first duties would be in their jobs and whether they would ever have to defend the colonies from an attack. Crimson thought the most likely adversary would be undiscovered aliens from the planet itself. Shetland disagreed.
“There is no intelligent life on Horizon, except us. The only attacks are gonna come from other nations who want a piece of the big cake. The Hyena Empire or Griffony.”
Ultimately, they settled on a bet, aliens meant a drink for Shetland and vice versa.
“If it ever happens.” Crimson said.
His biggest interest, however, was who would become his Comrades. Flashing a grin, Shetland waved over to her friend’s table, who were cuddled up pretty tight. “You're in luck, cause my friend Ciloa is a scientist who’s already on the team and Press--” Her voice was undercut by a shout. Ciloa, drunk enough to bring down a horse, had dragged her elbow-long tongue over Press's cheek and was now leaning in to kiss him. Judging from his startled expression, Press had not been warned of this advance and was now pushing the clingy changeling off of him. His face broke out in pure panic after she leaned forward and whispered something in his ears. Then he screamed: “GET A HOLD ON YOURSELF!” and shoved her off. Many heads turned as the hammered changeling fell to the ground, almost knocking over the table.
Uncomprehendingly, she stared up at Press, until a shadow fell on her face.
“Sorry…” she whispered, clawing her way back up and onto her bench, sliding on a fair distance to Press. Her horn sparked to life, but Shetland pressed down the glass she was about to levitate.
“I think you've had enough.” she said sternly, seeking to look into Ciloa's eyes. “It's probably time for us to go home.”
Ciloa somberly agreed and so, after saying goodbye to Crimson, Shetland escorted her back to their home a few streets further while Press stayed back to pay the bills. She made sure Ciloa found the way up the stairs and into her bed and that she had a bucket ready before she returned to the front of the bar where Press was already waiting, quietly berating himself.
“What exactly happened?” she asked.
Press stopped his mumbling self-torment. “She got way too drunk, way too fast.”
“Well, that was predictable.” Shetland sighed. “What did she say?”
“Asked me to check out the bathroom. Together.” he said with a grim expression.
“Oh, snap.” she whistled. “How much did she drink?”
“Seven and a half.” he grumbled. “I should have insisted on her slowing down.”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty.” Shetland said. “Do you need help getting home?”
“No.” A moment of silence passed between them. “Shetty?”
“Hmm?”
“Should I have… let her?”
She puffed out her cheek. “She obviously wanted it then, but she was really drunk.” Shetland was almost certain Ciloa wouldn't have minded it even if she’d been sober.
“So…”
“I think you’ve made the right decision. Thats no way to do your first time.” Shetland threw a meaningful look to Press, who groaned.
“I probably came off as a giant prude to her…”
“I dont think you came off as a prude. Mostly just sensible. And on the plus side, she probably won’t even remember that by tomorrow.”
“Hopefully…” he groaned. “Good night, Shetland.”
By the time she got back, Ciloa was fast asleep in the lower half of their shared bunk bed, an unusual occurrence. Normally she would just use her changeling wall-climbing powers to cling to the ceiling, as she’d stated she didn’t trust the bed not to buckle under Shetland's weight. As such the lower bunk was only ever used by guests or when, like now, Ciloa was too drunk to climb up safely. First, Shetland emptied the bucket in the sink and washed it out. She tucked her friend in, shut the windows and locked the house door. Only then did she allow herself to pull the ladder until it was in a 45 degree angle to the bed and climb the creaking steps. As most things in their home, her bed wasn't quite made for her dimensions and so she had cushioned one edge with several pillows, on which her neck rested, while her head dipped downwards.
“Good night Ciloa.” she muttered. She received no answer but a loud, nerve-racking snore.