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// Chapter 53: Two Sisters 
// Story: Daring Do and the Hand of Doom 
// by Unwhole Hole 
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Sweetie Drops and White did not progress as haphazardly as Rainbow Dash, if only because White was able to see the path ahead of them clearly. Neither of them tired as they pressed forward, and neither spoke. They had grown accustomed to working together.  
This time allowed Sweetie Drops to think. The actions she took following White- -sprinting, jumping, dodging, and slashing at anything that might even possibly be a danger- -were all physical actions. They were part of her training, both the portion she had received from the vedmaks when she was a child and the later training that the agency had given her. Her mind seemed to separate, and it thought on its own while her body handled the real work.
What she found herself ruminating on was the nature of the pony beside her. White moved as she did, with conviction and confidence, but Sweetie Drops had heard what Flock had said. That White, like her sisters and brothers, had been generated in a laboratory. She had no real mother, and had no father’s face to remember. Inside her body was more than flesh: metal, plastic, and other things that Sweetie Drops neither wanted to contemplate nor fathom. They had taken her eyes and her voice, and trained her for horrible things- -all within less than a year. 
Not that any of it mattered. The world was a simple place in Sweetie Drops’s mind. There was good and evil, and all beings could be subdivided into two even more inviolable categories: ponies, and monsters. White was clearly a pony; therefore, her origin or nature did not really matter. It only mattered what she could do, and who she was loyal to. What she could do was clear and more than adequate, and Sweetie Drops had  not questioned her loyalty for some time. It clearly lay with Daring Do.
“LEFT,” she said. White responded instantly, ducking to one side and folding up her left wing. Sweetie Drops rolled through the space and slashed across the surface of a golem just as it was unfolding. The silver clanged against metal and stone, and the golem fell to the floor broken. 
They turned another corner, and Sweetie Drops prepared another strike- -until she realized that the residents of this particular corridor were neither golems nor mutants. 
They were, in fact, a pair of ponies. One of them was an earth-stallion wearing sunglasses and a coat with a suit-collar. He was lying on top of a Pegasus in power armor. Her hair was worn in a Mohawk, and she was kissing him vigorously. 
The pair looked up as Sweetie Drops and White skidded to a stop. Every party present blushed heartily, and Sweetie Drops nearly turned away in embarrassment- -until the mare looked up with eyes nearly identical to White’s, and her numerous pupils narrowed into thin vertical slits. 
The mare pushed the stallion off and drew a sword. It was made of dark red metal and serrated, like the sword of the Questlord before. Instead of hefting it in an attack, though, she threw it away and glared angrily at White. Their mechanical eyes met.
“SISTER!” 
The Questlord leapt forward, and Sweetie Drops pirouetted. “No you don’t!” she cried, preparing to slice through the pony’s power armor and drop her with ease. 
Suddenly something caught her eye, and she was forced to change her motion. Instead of swinging at the white Pegasus, she wrenched her sword forward to block something that had been thrown by the stallion. The object struck the sword and was about to be deflected- -but then exploded on contact with the silver.
Sweetie Drops cried out as she was knocked back. She had been rendered partially dazzled, and her vision was filled with dark spots from the blast of light that the explosive had generated. Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, she saw the stallion walking slowly toward her. 
“You’re an earth-pony,” he said, calmly.
“Last time I checked.”
“Good.”
Sweetie Drops pointed her sword at him. “Am I going to have to beat you?”
The stallion stared at her and removed his sunglasses. Beneath them, his eyes were bright red. “I am not an egg.” 
He leapt forward. Sweetie Drops was surprised, but found his quaint stupidity almost endearing. 

The Pegasi met in midair. White, being smaller and weaker, was immediately pushed to the ground. Her elder sister had a chance to punch her in the face, but did not. As sisters, they both felt an extreme aversion to injuring one another, at least directly. The resulting conflict, therefore, involved no blows, but rather more closely resembled wrestling in the style of ancient Pegasi. Except that in this case, neither of them were naked and greased. 
“Don’t fight me, little sister- -oof!”
The Mohawk Pegasus had been pushed to the ground. White moved to put her in a head-lock, but the mare’s leg swept between hers and tilted her over. White flashed her wings into her sister’s face, then bent in half and wrapped her forelegs around the mare’s midsection. She pulled, but was no match against her sister’s power armor. After less than a second, she had been forced face-down onto the ground with one hoof held behind her back. 
“I know you can’t talk,” whispered the elder Pegasus. “So listen. You’re on the wrong side. You have to get out of here. NOW.”
White struggled. Her shoulder popped, but she felt no pain. This was something she had practiced extensively. With a swift motion, she flipped and pushed her sister’s bracing leg out of the way. The elder Pegasus began to fall, but slipped to the side and wrapped a hoof around White’s neck, holding her as she struggled. 
“I don’t want to hurt you! LISTEN! This is our oldest sister’s big day! You don’t know what that means, they never told you, but I do! Don’t ruin this day for her!”
White continued to struggle. Her sister lifted her and slammed her into the ground, knocking the wind out of her. 
“Do you think I don’t understand?” she hissed. “I’m tired of it too! But this is what we made for! It’s my last gift to our sister. As soon as this is over, I’m leaving. I’m going to work for Caballeron. I’m going to have a name, and love, and I’m going to break Mother’s heart. You can go too, but I won’t let you interfere with this! Not this time!” 
White hissed and tried to spit in her face, even though, internally, she understood as well. She just hated being told what to do, and less rationally hated the mechanical eyes that were staring back at her. They were her eyes too, and she loathed the sight of them and how ugly they made her. 
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” said Sweetie Drops.
Both White and the unnamed Pegasus looked up. Sweetie Drops was standing, holding an extremely badly beaten Withers by his mane. Her sword was at his neck. She was uninjured, save for a large bruise spreading on the side of her face as well as a bit of ash clinging to her fur. 
“Withers!” cried the Pegasus, standing. Her metal eyes narrowed on Sweetie Drops. “You put him down, right now!”
“Yeah. No.” Sweetie Drops nodded to White. “White. You okay down there?”
White nodded. The unnamed Pegasus stared wide-eyed. “You…you already have a name?” She laughed suddenly. “Then it makes sense. I get it. I get it, little sister. Trust me.” She turned to Sweetie Drops. “Are you going to hurt him?”
“It looks like I already did.”
Withers sighed, and through his swollen lip admitted, “I’m an egg…”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t want to. This sword is made for monsters, not ponies. But I need to know if there’s more of you.”
The mare smiled. “Of course there are more.”
“Where?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. We got separated.”
“So you decided to make out?”
“I was grown in a tank, but I’m still a mare. And come on. He’s pretty hot compared to the rest of the guys Caballeron’s got.” 
“I’d agree with that. But this isn’t the place for that.”
“I know.” She gestured to her eyes. “I can see the traps. And mechanisms. This whole place is lit up. I had advanced engineering training and I don’t even know what half this stuff MIGHT be.”
“So it’s not just traps?”
“No. This whole place is some kind of machine. I don’t know what it’s for.” She paused. “But I’m going to give you the same advice I gave my sister. Stay out of this, earth-mare. They aren’t concerned with you. Just let it happen. Leave. Take my sister. Let her be happy.”
“Not without Caballeron.”
The Pegasus sighed. “Fine. Live your life. But please. I’ve told you everything I know. Let Withers go.”
“I’m fine,” protested Withers. “Got her right where I want her. Wow is she ever muscular…”	
“You can’t flirt your way out,” sighed the Pegasus. Her synthetic eyes met Sweetie Drops. “Please, earth-mare? Or is your heart that cold?”
“I wish it was,” sighed Sweetie Drops. “I’m not going to hurt him. Additionally, anyway. But I’m going to have to hurt you.”
The mare stepped forward. “If that’s what it takes.” She turned her head to the side, exposing her neck. Withers struggled weakly. 
“Not like that,” growled Sweetie Drops, feeling mildly insulted. “I’m going to headbutt you. I know how to do it so you won’t have a hematoma. Then I’ll leave you with this putz. He’s not going to be walking for a few hours at least. You’ll wake up by then.”
The Pegasus straightened her neck. “And my sister?”
“White will be safe with me.”
“Good.” She smiled. “Do it.”
Sweetie Drops lowered her head. An echoing crack filled the room, and the Pegasus fell to the floor unconscious. Withers sniffled, and Sweetie Drops threw him hard onto the floor. 
“Dang she has a hard head,” she said, rubbing her own forehead. “White, let’s go. She might get less than an hour with a skull like that.” She kicked Withers hard. “Whoever you are, you sure can pick a mare.”
White shook her head and descended onto her sister. With great difficulty, she lifted her, and reached down her neckline, feeling for something that Sweetie Drops could see. Then she found it, and the armor hissed, separating at various points. The back unfolded, and White struggled to scoop her sister out of the assembly. The pony within was pale, but it was apparent she had been dyed at some point. She seemed so much smaller without the armor.
“Here.” Sweetie Drops sheathed her sword and helped get the Pegasus out. When she was clear, Sweetie Drops let her flop onto Withers, who seemed to graciously accept the weight. 
Sweetie Drops peered into the armor. White gestured for her to get in, but Sweetie Drops shook her head. “No way. I have no idea how to drive this thing. Do you have training?”
White paused for a moment, and then nodded. She quickly stripped off her own clothes and slid into the armor. It reacted, closing around her. She stood up, looking much larger than she had before. She lifted and flexed one of her armored hooves. 
“Nice,” said Sweetie Drops. 
White smiled and nodded, and then reached down and picked up her old armor. She removed the pocket knife from its belt and attached it to a holder in her new armor, and then gave the nonpowered system to Sweetie Drops.
“Ha,” said Sweetie Drops. “Not the first time I had to put on somepony else’s sweaty armor. But it’s better than going nude.” 
White nodded and closed the helmet of her armor. She then bounded forward. Sweetie Drops, having attached the main parts of White’s armor to herself, moved as well- -but paused when she saw the red sword lying on the floor where the Mowhawk Pegasus had left it.
She looked at Withers. “You don’t need this,” she said, kicking it over to him. “But give it back to her when she wakes up. I don’t carry steel, because I don’t like what it implies.” 
With that she left. Withers took the sword, but did not try to attack her. Sweetie Drops was pleased that he had not made such a mistake, but could not help but feeling like she had made one of her own.