//------------------------------// // 02: Being Honest With Yourself // Story: Eclipse Phase: Dreamcatcher // by Pyrite //------------------------------// Eclipse Phase: Dreamcatcher By Pyrite. 02: Being Honest With Yourself When Applejack came to, she realized instantly that the cold metal floor pressing against her face and her flank wasn’t the same one she’d passed out on. The way it accelerated toward her hooves to pretend it was gravity was subtly different, without the slight sideways drift of the habitat. She ached deeply throughout her body, but didn't feel the sting of the open wounds she'd earned. It was hard to sort out for a moment just what had happened... the mission, meeting Pinkie, those ghoul ponies... her brother. Her mind scrambled after that one, but she realized with a dropping sensation that it hadn’t been real. Regardless, she tried to grab hold of the scene and press it into her memory before it could drift away like memories of dreams tended to. “Horseapples,” she cursed as the details of the vision fled from her anyway. She could feel something in the small of her back, and slung across her shoulders and haunches. A restraint of some kind, tight enough to hold her in place though she was pretty sure she could crawl out of it if she really tried. There was a thin cushion under her, and not much else. She felt an uncomfortable detachment within herself, where the earth pony magic inside her reached out for more that wasn't there. Ah'm on some kinda shuttle, she thought. [‘Tini, tell me at least that you’re still here and you’ve been awake through all this.] [Yep,] she heard her muse respond. [Ah’ve got a con-ti-guous record of your vital signs, so you’ve got continuity. From what ah could tell, ya went down from blood loss and the effects of some powerful hallucinogens. See anythin’ interestin?] Applejack sighed. [Just an old memory, nothin’ ta be concerned with.] Her reverie was intruded upon by another mare’s voice, this one outside of her head. It had a deep accent and a singsong lilt to it. “Unless I am quite deeply mistaken, I believe Pinkie’s friend has finally awakened.” Giving up on feigning unconsciousness, Applejack warily opened her eyes. What she saw was a pair of black-and-white striped legs, ending in hooves, about a meter from her face. Tilting her head back to bring the mare’s face into view revealed a young zebra, though every body looked young to Applejack’s eyes anymore, even her own. The image she was looking at shifted, and she blinked and stared, woozily pointing a hoof at the zebra. “Am I still seein’ things, or are your stripes really slitherin’ around like a heap’a snakes?” she asked. The zebra smiled roguishly down at her, turning to show off her side in profile. Her black stripes were quite clearly shifting over her coat, swirling into and around each other in a pattern that centered on her glyph mark, which rotated as if it was the eye of her own personal storm. “I have thoroughly flushed out your system, and you may again believe your eyes. For a zebra, to change her stripes is something of a prize.” There was a pink blur to Applejack’s left, and suddenly a pair of legs were wrapping around her barrel squeezing the breath right out of her. “You’re awake! You’re awake and alive and okay, are you okay?” An exuberant Pinkie pie was attached to the legs, and she looked back over her shoulder at the Zebra. “She’s okay now, right Samira?” Samira smiled indulgently, backing slowly away. “While I am sure your heart is in the right place, perhaps your friend could use a little space.” Pinkie turned her gaze back down to Applejack for confirmation, eliciting an insistent nod from the mare underneath her. She let go, shifting around to let her breathe but still lay at eye level with her. Applejack struggled to regain her breath. “Ah’m- Ah’m alright, Pinkie. Just... where are we?” “Oh! That’s easy. We’re on the Welcome Wagon. It’s one of our shuttles, and it’s on it’s way back to Surprise." Now that she had a chance to look, Applejack saw that she was in one corner of what was essentially a large open space. The shuttle was little more than a metal box with engines on one side, and what she thought of as the floor beneath her hooves was actually the back wall. It looked set up to use multiple surfaces as living space, and each of the surfaces leading up above her had ladders going up their middle. There were perhaps two dozen creatures aboard, mostly ponies. For the most part they seemed to be giving Applejack and Pinkie their space. "And when did we get here?" Applejack asked, taking all of this in. "Right after the big fight. I would have asked if you wanted to go, but you were a little unconscious and we really needed to leave after habitat security found out that the hallucinogens in my party grenades could be weaponized. Or that I’d smuggled them in in the first place. Or what I'd been doing to make the Revenants so mad.” “Weaponized?” Applejack’s eyes went wide, and she shot to her hooves. “That was the stuff ah was caught in?” Pinkie bounced up with her. “Yep! Though without the strobe light it’s really just kinda fast-acting. You... you didn’t look into the light, did you?” As she asked, she pressed her face in and turned it to the side, examining Applejack’s eyes carefully. Applejack shook her head, and Pinkie immediately hugged her again. “Space, Pinkie! Remember?” “Oh, right,” she said, reluctantly backing off again. Applejack raised an eyebrow. “So, how’d you keep from gettin’ dosed, then?” she asked. “You were almost as close to it as ah was.” Pinkie tilted her head up in thought. “Ooh, that’s a good one, how did I...” Then she grinned. “I get it, it’s a trick question. I didn't not get dosed... um, didn't get not dosed?” “Huh? How the hay’d you get us out of there, then?” “Oh, that one’s easy. I just followed the emerald lizard across the sky islands. They always know where to go, but of course I had to pick a crystal pear to feed to the dragon so he wouldn’t eat the little guy. Then it mostly wore off, and it was security ponies chasing me rather than flying fish, and we were already in the shuttle bay.” She glanced toward the ceiling of the shuttle above them, which was transparent, and Applejack realized, probably the actual nose of the craft, facing backwards as they burned thrust to slow down on their approach. “I used another grenade to cover our escape, so I don’t think they’re very happy with me, even though I only dialed that one up to ‘Rave’.” Applejack stared back at Pinkie in bug eyed astonishment, reeling for a moment at what the girl could apparently get away with. After a moment, she just shook her head. “This... this is all normal for you, isn’t it? Like it’s just Tuesday or somethin’.” “But it’s already Friday, silly.” Pinkie corrected, placing a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. “I know it’s been a rough day, but Appletini should still be keeping you up on the date.” “She’s doin’ just fine. And at least we made it outta there, even if ah don’t entirely agree with how. Ah’m sure ah would’ve agreed less with what those horror-story ponies wanted to do with me.” Applejack stuck her tongue out with a nauseous look on her face. “Why anypony would make themself into a monster like that is beyond me. Buncha freaks.” A twitch of motion and a fluttering sound attracted Applejack’s attention toward another side of the room, where the wall curved out in the middle to include a small oval nook, large enough to fit a pair of ponies, or as became immediately apparent, a single griffon. The griffon in question sat her lion end on a small cushion, identical to the one Applejack was on, and had her eagle front end perched on a metal rod set into the wall. She had turned her beaked head over her shoulder to cast a predatory stare at Applejack, which put her on edge almost as much as the pair of gleaming golden robotic arms that rose out of the griffon’s shoulder-blades where her wings should have been, ending in a second set of claws. Applejack, sometimes to her detriment, had never been a pony to back down in the face of anything, and she met the gryphon’s glare with a steady, unimpressed gaze of her own. “There a problem?” she asked. The gryphon curled out of her post and stalked over toward the two mares. “Yeah, there’s a problem,” she said, circling AJ ominously, just out of reach. “I’ve got a problem with you inner system stooges thinking you’ve got a right to spit in our faces like that.” Applejack let out a little snort. “Like what?” The gryphon sneered at her. “Piece of advice: lose the attitude that you’ve got any business judging anyone by their bodily choices before you set one of your hooves on Surprise. That is, if you don't want to get torn apart in there.” She reached out to curl a bionic clawtip under Applejack’s chin. “Got me?” Applejack swiped the claw away and backed up a step, her stance changing. “Mah attitudes are mah business, thanks,” she answered. The gryphon let out a loud groan, rolling her eyes until they landed on the pink mare behind her opponent. “Pinkie, don’t tell me we’re going to all this trouble and packing up early just to bail out some bioconservative loser who got in over her head.” Pinkie’s smile, which she’d been projecting in an effort to defuse the situation, fluctuated. She stepped around Applejack to put herself between the two, meeting the hybrid’s gaze unflinchingly, still holding that smile up. “Sure, then. I won’t tell you.” Then her smile failed, and for a moment she wore a very sober expression. “But seriously, Amalga, Apple Cobbler is my friend. Even if she’s a bit of a fuddy-duddy about some things, she’s really important to me. I want to keep being your friend too, so I’m going to ask you to please respect her.” The effect was instantaneous. Amalga backed up a step, quick to drop her aggressive demeanor in the face of the highest rep pony in her personal network. “I’m just... just looking out for her, really. You know some of the others aren’t as reasonable as I am about that sort of thing.” In the outer system, and on scum barges like the one Pinkie called home, reputation was everything. If a few ponies liked you, you had a place to sleep and whatever food or energy you needed to live. If enough ponies liked you, then you could use whatever matter the community had access to and nanofabricate any luxuries you wanted, could trade up for more space, and you could count on the community for a favor here or there. If nopony liked you, then you were liable to lose the protection of your community, or be kicked off at the next port or onto the next scum-barge. Ponies called it the New Economy, and in the outer system, it replaced money. Ponies, and griffons, kept careful track of their various rep scores, and usually did what they could to make sure they stayed high. In the right circles, Pinkie Pie’s reputation went a long way, and being her friend, having her trust, was a big deal. Amalga darted a momentary glance at Applejack, then turned and stalked back to her piloting nook. “We’re approaching Surprise. I need to turn the ship around to maneuver, so we’ll be back in micro in a minute here.” “Ooh, going all floaty is always the best part of these trips!” Pinkie jumped up and clapped her front hooves together. “The fun of tumbling through the air aside.” Samira cut in, laying down on another cushion and tightening a restraint over her body. “You had best be prepared for a bumpy ride.” Applejack watched as Amalga returned to her post, as she laid back down on the cushion and pulled the strap over herself again just before the ‘gravity’ provided by the shuttle’s thrust began to wane, sending her stomach flipping. Pinkie was about to bounce right into the middle of the cabin, but Applejack held her down with a gentle press of hoof against her leg. “Pinkie, if you don’t mind just... stayin’ down here a moment, microgravity always makes me a bit queasy.” Pinkie pie looked down to the friend lying beneath her, and her giddy grin faded into a simple warm smile. “Alright,” she said, bending her knees to look Applejack in the eye and relying on the special pads on her hooves to seal her to the surface. “You know I’m always there for a friend.” Applejack’s hoof still touched hers, just barely, enough to activate her coat link again. [Back there, before the fight started, you said you didn’t know anythin’ about our business, about Dreamcatcher. Would’ya mind explainin’ that?] This prompted a pensive look from Pinkie, which definitely was an odd fit for her. [Well, there’s basically a space in my head where I know I left that, only it’s not there and instead there’s a note that says that if any of my old friends show up and mention dreams they might be in trouble, and they’ll need what’s supposed to be there, so it’ll be my job to make sure they’re alright and to get them there.] Applejack’s eyes widened. [Ya mean you’ve been cuttin’ pieces out of your memory?] [Out of my memory, I guess, though of course I don’t remember doing it either. But don’t worry, that’s why I’m taking you to the Pinkie who knows that kinda stuff. Then I’m sure I’ll be able to help!] [The Pinkie that... wait...] Applejack drew back a little on her cushion, almost breaking contact. [I’ve been dealin’ with a beta fork this whole time?] Pinkie nodded uncomfortably. [I never liked that way of thinking about it, but I guess so?] She tried to catch Applejack’s eyes, but the farmpony wouldn’t let her, instead turning her head to stare at the wall. [I’m still the same Pinkie, you know. I just left some baggage behind on surprise, but we were friends before any of that, weren’t we?] Applejack finally met her eyes, but then just shook her head. [Pinkie Pie and I have been friends for a very long time, through thick and thin. But you’re not her. Ah’m honestly not sure what you are, but you ain’t my friend.] Pinkie Pie recoiled like Applejack had struck her with a hoof, though her expression held even more hurt than mere violence could have drawn from her. Her hair dropped straight down to the sides of her head, and the pain in her eyes rapidly converted to sullen anger. [Fine! If you don’t want to talk to me, then you don’t have to. Maybe the me that you think you know so well will want to talk to you when we get there, maybe she won’t. I guess we'll find out.] With that, she sulked off into the corner of the shuttle, sidling up behind Samira. The zebra glared balefully at Applejack after Pinkie passed her, before turning to silently console the earth pony pressing herself against her side. Everyone felt a pull to one side, as the stars above them slid across the view. As the spin was halted by the firing of a second set of maneuvering thrusters, an object close enough to appear as more than a point of light in the distance slipped into sight above them. The scumbarge named Surprise was the size of a small habitat, and had been cobbled together from a variety of unrelated components that somehow managed an odd grace in the way they were balanced against each other. It was quite a sight, especially since Applejack remembered seeing a ship with only half of it’s modules nine years ago, on it's return to the moon. Pinkie had pieced it together from discarded orbital debris, in a desperate effort to accommodate the ponies who managed to flee earth in their own skins. It seemed that those who remained had expanded it significantly since those days. An intricate feather pattern decorated its hull, barely visible from this distance, but a testament to the dedication its over five thousand inhabitants held toward their home, even if half of them only stayed for a few months at a time. Some ponies took to calling these ships ‘scum barges’, but never within earshot of someone who had been rescued from a falling Equestria aboard one. At least, never a second time. “There we are.” Amalga announced, seemingly oblivious to the evolving social sitaution. “Home sweet home.” --- Within a few minutes, the Welcome Wagon had settled into a small docking clamp on the side of Surprise, secured in place over an airlock. With that, any semblance of gravity were completely lost, as the scumbarge simply sailed forward on it’s leftover momentum, making a wide orbital circle around Saturn. Samira kept herself between Applejack and Pinkie as they disembarked, her displeasure with their rude visitor clear from the set of her hooves and arc of her back. Applejack felt the need to say something, but thought better of it, and instead she simply floated on her side of the airlock in silent thought as they waited for it to cycle. The airlock door opened into a wide bay, which was separated into a dozen small hangars, each sporting external airlocks, magnetic grapples on movable pulleys hanging from the ceiling, and spaces set aside for the cargo of visiting ships. A small gang of ponies, griffons, and zebra were hanging around, one occasionally pointing a hoof toward another or sweeping it in front of their field of vision, clearly engaged in some virtual game shared between them over the mesh. Some of them seemed to notice the state Pinkie was in, and in a flurry of activity suddenly no one was in their way. Once they were clear of the airlock, Pinkie turned to the zebra, carefully avoiding even looking at Applejack. “Samira, I can’t let me see myself like this. Can you take Apple Cobbler to see me? I need to go cheer myself up.” Samira gave a solemn nod. “Of course, my friend, consider it done.” She waved a hoof down one of the network of corridors leading out of the bay. “Now please, go and have yourself some fun.” Pinkie forced a smile, and turned down one of the corridors. Applejack watched as she threw herself down it with abandon, apparently eager to put distance between them. A minute later, and she had vanished around a corner. As soon as she was out of sight, Samira rounded on Applejack with a withering glare that actually forced the indomitable pony back a step. Her voice was filled with a contempt she’d obviously been hiding for Pinkie’s benefit until now. “I know not how she can call you her friend, or how such behavior you think you could defend. When the two become one, she will not forget. I only hope then you have the grace for regret.” Applejack grimaced, struggling to explain herself. Whatever she'd told Samira had probably been over a coatlink just as private as the one they had been using, but she could guess pretty easily. “Ah wish ah knew what ta say ta that. Ah guess ah’m sorry that ah’ve never been good at hidin’ the way ah feel about things.” She rallied internally, taking that step of ground back. “Still, though, what ah feel is swindled. Ah thought that was the real Pinkie Pie ah was dealin’ with that whole time. Ah depended on her, and she turned out to be some diced-up copy.” Samira nickered in exasperation. “If you did not doubt her, perhaps that is a clue, that the pony you spoke with is less false than true.” She sighed, lashing her ropey tail down another corridor. “I tire of treading over trodden ground. Your reckoning is with the pony for whom we are bound.” With that, she lead the way down the corridor, her hooves holding fast to the floor despite the lack of gravity. Applejack started off behind her, but discovered that her morph, which had been grown for the use of visitors on a habitat with simulated gravity, had not come standard with the molecular grip feature many space-faring transequines relied on to keep their hooves on a surface. Instead, she went flailing gracelessly through the air when her first step only pushed her away rather than foreward. With nothing to hold on to, she kept on going until she slammed into the ceiling, and had to scrabble to find a convenient hoofhold before she bounced away again. She heard a cold, electronic snickering sound behind her, and she twisted around to look, blushing in embarrassment. The Synthmorph below her was riding a sleek, metal-and-plastic shell, with a thick serpent’s tail in place of it’s rear legs, and a pair of dragon's claws instead of forehooves. He was reclining on that tail against the floor beneath her, and as she watched, he coiled it before throwing himself down the corridor she had been trying to go down. [That’s already posted on the local mesh, ain’t it?] Appletini trotted back into her view and tapped twice on the wall beside her. [You bet your rear end it is.] An AR window opened in the wall in front of Applejack’s muzzle, and she blushed deeper as she saw the display of her aerobatic failure in all of it’s vidcast glory. [Already gettin’ pretty popular, but ah’m sure they’ll forget it in a few days.] The unsubtle clearing of a zebra throat prompted her to duck her head back into the corridor, where Samira was waiting, giving her an amused backward glance. Now that she had Applejack’s attention, she curled her tail toward her. Applejack quickly caught on, and bit down on the tuft of hair at the tip of Samira’s tail, resigned to allowing herself to be towed through the corridors by it. Samira seemed to have no trouble at all, her hooves holding fast to any surface when she wanted them to. It soon became apparent why a guide was necessary. Surprise was a chaotic mess of passageways, some cavernous and others tiny ductways barely large enough to fit a pony, some jammed with loiterers and traffic, others looping back on themselves if one didn’t know the right exit to take. It had all the bustle of a beehive, with none of the orderliness. Samira, obviously, moved through the ship with expert grace, occasionally traversing walls or ceilings to avoid obstacles. Insomuch as ‘wall’ and ‘ceiling’ were really distinguishable in microgravity. Applejack had always tried to think of whatever surface her hooves were closest to as the floor, but whenever she mentioned that to freefall-savvy ponies, they’d had to work to stifle laughter. The oddest thing to her was that despite the chaos and crowding, nopony was shoving their way through, or really causing much disruption. It reminded Applejack of her time as a filly in Manehatten, with thousands of ponies pressing between each other on the streets, only with nanotattos and body modifications in place of ties and pressed business suits. Applejack tried to keep her eyes to the walls, distracting herself from the view directly ahead. The AR displays were entirely unhelpful when it came to navigation. Instead, she found herself surrounded by a circus of murals and graffiti, which she struggled to clear from her view. Clearly, guests were expected to do research or find a guide if they didn’t want to get lost on the barge. Honest, actually painted-on-the-walls graffiti was visible behind the AR layer. Much of it was incomprehensible, but one set of lines were quite legible, writ large across the approaching wall of an intersection: Your mind is Software. Program it. Your body is a shell. Change it. Death is a disease. Cure it. Extinction is approaching. Fight it. It didn’t take much time for Samira’s long zebra strides and instinctive knowledge of the labyrinth to bring them to a large central chamber, which apparently was their destination. A set of small doors was set in a ring around it’s circumference. At a gesture from Samira’s hoof, one of the doors slid open to reveal a tight cylindrical elevator. Applejack followed her inside, spitting out the zebra’s tail as the door closed behind them. Samira tapped the floor, and there was a slight pull to the side as the enclosure began to spin up, pulling both of them back down. Applejack flexed her back, glad to feel pressure against it, which prompted a raised eyebrow at her obvious relief. She rolled her eyes at the look. “Ah was born an earth pony. It ain’t right to have nothin’ holdin’ ya ta the ground.” Samira shook her head, nickering. “how very interesting, to find freedom from gravity a frightening thing.” “Gravity keeps you from drifting off into nowhere, at least.” If Samira had a response, she lost it to the sudden jolt as the elevator matched spin with one of the spokes of the torus wheel circling the ship, and began shooting down it. A sense of weightlessness returned as the floor dropped out from under them both. A minute later, the false gravity reasserted itself as they reached their destination. The door slid open into a much wider area than the main ship. This seemed to be a more popular hangout for the residents of the scumbarge, and as a result basically resembled a circus. Rather than the rust and shadows the word ‘scumbarge’ evoked, it seemed that everything was well lit and brightly colored. A number of ponies were playing a variety of musical instruments, saxophones, electric guitars, lyres and synthesizers drifting into and out of any semblance of harmony. A ring of onlookers had formed around a pair of ponies that actually seemed to be engaged in a swordfight. A unicorn wielding a pair of long curved swords in her magical field was facing off against a pegasus with wicked serrated blades strapped to her wings. The two danced around each other, taking playful swipes and grinning. Applejack could tell at a glance that the weapons were razor sharp, as the pegasus proved when it ducked under the unicorn’s double swing to rake his wing along her side, drawing a long gash. She stumbled back into the crowd, and was pulled out of the ring while an oversized earth pony stepped in to take her place. Ponies easily made way for Samira as she lead Applejack through the chaos. As they got away from the area immediately surrounding the elevators, the open space receeded and they found themselves in an incredibly tight-cropped and metropolitan city, consisting of more back-alleys than main roads. Every vice and entertainment Applejack could imagine was on display, and she was solicited for more than one of them before Appletini managed to adjust her spam filters. ...Wait, was that a giant pink bouncy castle full of ponies? she did a double take at the city-block-sized carnival ride. She shook her head fondly. At least some things don't ever change. It seemed like they’d traversed more than half the torus by the time they reached their destination. Applejack didn’t complain, though. Rather, she was glad for the long walk. It had given her time to think, and it had been a while since she'd had a long walk in normal gravity. She could walk a mile on the moon and barely feel like she'd moved at all She felt betrayed, but wasn't entirely certain who to blame for it. She had to admit to herself that the fork of Pinkie hadn't really hidden anything from her. Do ah expect her to wear a sign that reads 'Fake Pinkie' when she goes around? Was Pinkie herself to blame, for forking in the first place? Applejack knew that the practice was common enough on the moon, as little as she liked it, and out here it was barely given a second thought. Finding out that Pinkie had actually been a fork of her friend had drawn a bitterness out of her that she hadn’t expected and didn’t like, and she was starting to regret her bluntness. Have ah become mah granny in mah old age ta snap at ponies like this? She tuned out the whole cacophony of the scumbarge as she moved forward, only keeping Samira’s twisting striped coat in focus ahead of her. As insane as life on Surprise seemed, Applejack had to admit there was something refreshingly honest about it. In Hobble, anypony who was rich enough to be free had an image of themself they had to convey at all times, if they didn’t want to fall by the wayside. The indentured, as always, had it worse, with many contractually obligated to play a persona, even when not directly working. But here, most ponies were trying to be themselves as hard as they possibly could. Living a lie was something they just didn’t have time or patience for. Remind ya of anypony? came a calm, quiet voice from the back of her mind. She took in a sharp breath through her nostrils, snapped instantly out of her little reverie. Once she’d blinked her eyes clear, she was suddenly seeing the rest of the world again. At some point, the constant noise had vanished, replaced by a comfortable muted silence. She was in an apartment dining room, small by the standards she was used to but a little above-average in this era, when every square foot of space had to be enclosed and claimed from the void. The dining room blended into a small living room behind her, with a compact staircase shoved into a corner. A motion caught Applejack’s eye as she regained her bearings, and she turned to see that Samira was standing at a swinging door, waving a hoof and looking at her impatiently. With her attention acquired, Samira pushed the door open and gestured with her muzzle that Applejack should go inside. What she found through the door was the largest room in the apartment, and was set up as a baker’s kitchen, with counters and cabinets, and a set of drawers against one wall. It seemed to have seen recent use, with a dusting of flour coating many of the countertops, along with a pair of large bowls, lying mostly empty. The centerpiece of this arrangement was a block of four industrial ovens that stretched floor-to-ceiling like a pillar. In front of those ovens stood Pinkie Pie, obliviously balancing a ball of cookie dough on the tip of her muzzle. In this odd, meditative pose, Pinkie didn’t even seem to notice that Applejack had entered the room, and this gave her a moment to gather her thoughts before she started what was destined to be an awkward conversation, even by Pinkie Pie standards. As if to prove just how awkward destiny could get, the door on the opposite side of the kitchen opened, and the other Pinkie Pie walked through, her hair a cotton-candy mess of curls again. The first Pinkie’s eyes uncrossed as the other pony bounced into the room. “Hey me!” she shouted, waving to herself. She tossed the ball of cookie dough to the other her, who caught it in her mouth with a smile mid-bounce. “How’s it going?” “Everythings alright now, mostly. Things didn’t exactly go as planned, but figuring out the new plan is half the fun!” the second Pinkie answered. She twitched a glance to the side, suddenly aware of the intruder, but intentionally looked away as she saw who it was. This of course drew the second Pinkie’s eye, who blinked and then broke into a beaming smile. “Applejack’s here too? Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “I just wanted to surprise me and get to see the look on my face when I saw her!” the Pinkie Applejack had met on the Horseshoe replied. Applejack self-consciously sidled further into the room while the Pinkies hoof bumped. “Are you ready to get back in here?” Pinkie Pie asked, tapping her head with a hoof. “Just about,” Pinkie replied, bouncing over to a counter on which lay a tray of cookies, still steaming from the oven. She took the edge of one in her teeth, tossing it up and catching it in her mouth, devouring it quickly. She smiled at her other self. “They turned out almost as good as we were imagining this morning.” “Yep! I can’t wait to see everypony’s faces when we start giving them out at Railrider’s surprise party tonight!” She spun back to face Applejack. “But speaking of surprises, you showing up here is a really awesome surprise! And I thought you were terrible at surprises, but I really didn’t expect this at all!” Applejack rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Pinkie. Ah do try.” “You know, it might have caught me by surprise because I haven’t seen you in... wow, has it really been more than a year?” Her eyes went wide as she rushed at Applejack, pulling her into a hug. “You know what this means?! Reunion party!” “Ya might want ta be saving that for a bit.” Applejack carefully extricated herself from Pinkie’s legs. “It’s real good ta see ya again, but that’s not why ah shot myself ‘cross half the system.” Pinkie’s fork nodded. “She found me on the Horseshoe. She walked up to me in The Nail and she said she was Apple Cobbler even though I knew she was Applejack, and then she said the big D word, so after I got her away from TK and his guys I brought her here.” She glanced between Applejack and herself, and tossed her head back in a sigh. “This will be much faster if I just bring you up to speed. Give me a minute.” With that, she walked over to the drawers set into the wall and pulled one open. Inside was a long shelf, with a pony-sized transparent pod lying on it. She slit the pod open with a hoof to reveal a life support rig and restraining harness, everything necessary to keep a morph comfortable and safe when nopony was riding it. Applejack puzzled out what was about to happen, and something clicked in her head. She galloped to intercept Pinkie’s fork, pressing a hoof to her chest. Her determined eyes met Pinkie’s, searching the other mare for… something. She didn’t know what she was looking for. “Are you sure about this?” she asked. “Ah mean, ah don’t really understand or agree with what you are, but are you really ready to…?” “Die?” Pinkie supplied, looking into Applejack’s eyes with a sad smile. “I’m not going to die, Applejack. I’m just a fork in the river. It’s been a fun ride and I’ve got to experience things I never would have in the old riverbed, but it’s time to flow back together and give those experiences back to myself. Everything I am is still going to be there.” She pointed over her shoulder at the other self, who was staring after them in confusion. Then she brought that hoof down on Applejack’s, pushing it away from her chest, and pulled her into an insistent hug. “But I am so touched that you would worry about me, Applejack!” She chirped, squeezing her stammering friend. “Don’t be worried, I’ll be fine! I’m about to become whole again. I want to do this.” Applejack stared, her jaw hanging open and her hooves falling to the tiled floor as Pinkie released her. The fork glanced back one last time before stepping into the pod, slipping her body into the harness and her hooves into restraints set into the sides. She laid her head down on a pad placed between her arms, and the lid of the pod slid back over her. She closed her eyes. For a moment, her whole body shuddered, pulling at the restraints, every muscle convulsing. Then she went almost perfectly still, breathing shallowly. A breathing mask and set of tubes emerged from the bottom of the pod and placed themselves over her muzzle. As Applejack watched, the balloon cutie mark vanished from Pinkie’s sides, and the pod slid back into place. She turned her stare from the vacated earth pony morph to the Pinkie Pie standing in front of her oven, eyes closed and shivering, hints of rapid eye motion behind the lids. When she finally opened them again, she was staring directly at Applejack, the emotions on her face quickly flashing between hurt, dejected, to sullen. She opened her eyes, boring into Applejack's, then closed them again. Then she broke into a heartwarming smile that was forgiving, but still more than a little hurt. “You know, Applejack, I’ve been making forks of myself to go to parties across the system for years now and haven’t kept that secret from anypony. If you had a problem with it, you could have talked to me.” Applejack swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “What c’n I say about it, Pinkie? That ah think it’s wrong? That the idea of ponies floatin’ around out there usin' your face and name makes me uneasy? That it’s a waste of good bodies other ponies could use? Ah don’t want us to stop bein’ friends over this.” Pinkie bounced over to Applejack, regaining her smile as she pressed her nose against the other mare’s. “Silly pony. We don’t have to stop being friends just because you disagree with my lifestyle! I’ll even make sure to only visit as my original if that makes you more comfortable than dealing with a fork. Your friendship is really important to me.” Her smile wavered, and she backed up a bit to look Applejack in the eye. “Just... try to remember that I always merge with my forks after they’re done. What you said to her really hurt me, just as much as if you’d said it to me. I was her now, and I remember what it was like.” Before Applejack could answer, she broke contact to trot over to the tray of cookies, sliding one over onto her hoof and balancing it with practiced ease as she hobbled three-legged to offer it to her friend. Applejack considered the cookie on Pinkie’s hoof for a moment, then tapped it with her nose, sending it flipping up into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, considering Pinkie. “Alright,” she began as soon as she swallowed. “We can leave this for now, but ah think we need ta have a long, honest talk about it. Soon. We aint got time for it now, though. This ain’t a social call.” “Oh.” Pinkie replied dejectedly, then grinned. “We should do a social call, though. We’ve got sooo much to catch up on!” “Later,” Applejack cut her off, glancing around the room suspiciously. “This room secure?” Pinkie’s grin disappeared. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Now it is.” She answered. “So… Dreamcatcher has a job for us? And I’m guessing since you’re here in person for it, it’s not the usual mission control slash networking slash researching slash boring stuff.” “Yep.” Applejack nodded. “‘parrantly this is high level, and off the darknets. Don’t know the details yet, though. Maybe we’ve got a mole, maybe it’s something to do with the Elements. Whatever's goin' on, E-Cell’s been activated to take care of it. And yer first job is gonna be ta contact Rainbow Dash.”