//------------------------------// // The Reploid Nobody Knows // Story: Manehattan's Lone Guardian // by Curtis Wildcat //------------------------------// Wow. Has it really been two hours since I had my meeting with Gray's family? Time doesn't just fly; it breaks the sound barrier on top of that. I hadn't even left that room the entire time. Watching the inhabitants of that salt water tank had just been too entrancing. If you said that you hadn't expected me to upgrade to a season pass before I left, I would've called you a liar. I haven't seen Ebony or the others since that meeting, so I have to assume they're probably deeper into the aquarium. Doesn't matter now; I've got nothing else to do, so I'm currently walking back to the Pyre as the clouds above start sprinkling. And that will give me some time to think about what I learned. I wasn't blind to what was going on while I was ruminating on the existence of the Atlantic salmon. Only someone deaf or otherwise hard-of-hearing would have missed the music that was playing for the next few minutes, and I have to believe that it was a factor in Ebony getting enough of a grip to talk to me. The thing is, I didn't believe that I was the source of that music, as lovely as it was. Lack of video screens and computers notwithstanding, the Equestrians' technology levels are all over the place. I initially believed that whoever it was running the aquarium had been piping in music somehow. However, an examination of the room I was in showed no evidence of such: no speakers, no magical trinkets, nothing. A quick inquiry at the front desk revealed that while such technology did exist and was used in some parts of Manehattan (most notably at the larger stores and the odd carnival), the aquarium's owners had no plans of installing that system in the facility for the foreseeable future. In addition, I am innately familiar with my own hardware and what it can do. I don't have any sort of apparatus installed in me that would let me play music at will, as much as I would like to. I can certainly imagine some coolant-pumping theme or other playing while I have another dance with Zero. And as I've stated previously, I am physically incapable of singing in my own voice. So the question has been raised: where did that music come from? My mind's going back to what Drama told me earlier this morning about heartsongs. According to her, they're capable of manifesting with the aid of this world's ambient magic when somepony feels strongly enough about something that they want to sing about it. Whether it's mundane or not and whether it's important or not, it can still happen. A combat Reploid I may be, but I've never forgotten my origins. My initial goal was to make the environment better piece by piece following wartime, whether on my own or with help. Losing my way in later years didn't change my mission at a fundamental level. Along with the fact that I found them so relaxing and fun to be around, this helped my fondness for sea life to develop over time. These are my reasons why I want to go home so badly: I want to protect the world, to help it flourish as it once did many years before. Being able to fight Zero again is just a bonus. That, I think as I hold out my hand and feel the raindrops splashing against my palm, is the key. Words cannot describe my loyalty towards my home and what I want to do once I return. My feelings for these things are strong, very much so. You would have an easier time convincing me to stick a rubber ball on my nose and pretend I'm a clown than you would getting me to abandon my quest. Plain and simply put, I will be going home. And when those feelings spilled out while I was talking to Ebony, they manifested as an electronic beat and siren-like wailing. It wasn't just the music that appeared, either; for a few moments, it felt like I was sitting atop a glacier instead of a wooden bench. The subtle twisting of reality to provide that mental image was weak, as it didn't persist after that instance, but the fact that it happened at all speaks volumes. Was this what Drama was talking about when she said that I wouldn't have to worry about singing in a voice that wasn't my own? And does this mean that I, a machine without any magic at all, would still be able to take advantage of it somehow? If so, then that opens up more than a few... opportunities, provided I can find a way to exploit them while I'm here. A taxi carriage stops next to me on the road, and its driver asks me if I'm good out in this rain. I consider his implied suggestion, then point out that I'm good: this sort of weather is what I live for. He shrugs, but accepts this and takes off in search of others who may not share my enthusiasm. Hmm... maybe I should have accepted his offer. I might shed water easily, but the same can't be said of my coat and purse. Neither of them are waterproof. I guess I should hurry along, then. Keeping a hand on my purse, I trigger my Dash Thrusters and jet off down the sidewalk. Slower than the pegasi but faster than any of these ponies can run, I'm able to eat up the distance remaining between myself and the Pyre quickly and easily. ... As I turn onto the street that my home base is situated at, I see one of the local mailponies leaving the Pyre in a hurry. Not paying him any mind, I enter the theater and drape my coat and purse around a chair in the corner. "Drama? I'm home, such as it is," I call out. "Welcome back," the familiar voice called from her office. "Mind coming in? Some of this mail is for you." For me? Given the recent newspaper, I guess it's an inevitability. I enter the office, taking note of the dozen or so envelopes on Drama's desk. "Less than I expected." "Ten to one that most ponies don't think you can read yet," Drama comments in jest, setting aside her own mail. "Or that they're too afraid to start begging 'notice me, alien!' to my face," I reply in the same tone, sorting through the mail. "Let's see, we've got what looks like six letters from individuals around Manehattan... five from assorted businesses, and..." My eyes widen at an envelope that's made of much finer materials than the rest, stamped with an intricate emblem depicting a winged unicorn. It takes a few seconds to parse the overly fancy writing, but... "Princess Celestia, c/o Canterlot Castle?" Drama almost falls out of her seat at this. "The Princess?!" she exclaims, eager to see what it is. "What are you waiting for, the tides? Open it!" I don't need further encouragement. Without delay, I tear open the envelope and remove its contents, unfolding them. It turns out not be mere paper like I've seen elsewhere, but tightly compressed parchment. The same emblem that was on the envelope decorates the top of the letter. As for the text, it's written in the same fancy style that the address on the envelope had been. That's another thing that sets this world apart from mine: this sort of font is a lost art. It can be synthesized with a computer easily, but actually taking a pen in your hand and writing in a way that confuses anyone who tries to read it? I was under the impression that it was another practice that came to an end in the 21st century. After people learn the alphabet, they're content to let computers do all the work for them under the assumption that they'll never need to do actual writing. Looking at this, they have no idea what they're missing. Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia Canterlot Castle Fairy Leviathan Deep Sea Squadron, Neo Arcadia c/o Burning Salamandra's Pyre of Fears, Manehattan, Equestria Dear Ms. Leviathan, I offer you my greetings, and my hope that the day you receive this finds you well. I am sure that a few ponies have done this for you already, but allow me to officially welcome you to Equestria. Thanks to your interview with the Minutes, the Crown has been made aware of your desire to return home. I have been on one or two sojourns to other worlds in the far distant past, but the planet you described is outside of my experience. I am loathe to discuss those experiences in detail for personal reasons, but I can at least safely say that ponies were prevalent in those worlds. If you are any indication then we do not exist where you are from, at least not as a sapient species. As such, I do not consider myself an expert in the field. This does not mean that we are unable to provide assistance, however. Research by my most trusted staff is under way here in Canterlot to determine if any methods of traveling to specific worlds exist. In addition, discreet inquiries will be made both here and around the nation to see what avenues are open to us. Since you will most likely keep your ears open where you are, I would like to suggest that we collaborate on this. If you are willing to keep us informed, then we shall do the same. As for your combat capabilities, actions speak louder than words. It is one thing to capture some petty thieves, or engage in a friendly competition; it is quite another to put your strength to a real test. It is true that Equestria is a peaceful nation on the whole, but we are not without our champions. As such, once you have decided that you have fully recovered, I would like to challenge you to a practice match against a proxy of my choosing. To avoid raising the expectations of third parties, I will not notify your prospective opponent of this until you accept my invitation, so I await your reply. On a lighter note, I apologize if I shocked you with my display the other day. I would like to request that you not view me as somepony out of reach, inscrutable, or truly frightening. Everything I've read about you tells me that you mean us no harm, and only those who are genuine, unrepentant threats to my little ponies deserve my wrath. My thoughts and feelings are the same as any other of my kind, and I would like to think that I am able to welcome anypony with good intentions. So please: if you ever want to talk to somepony, I am more than willing to receive your letters. Feel free to write to me about anything at all, Ms. Leviathan, whether it is for the sake of updates or simply to pass the time of day. I am available as a friend, should you want one. Best wishes, Princess Celestia P.S. - My cooking staff does not allow this 'Heartbreakers' candy in the castle, so I have not had the opportunity to try it for myself. Is it really as densely packed with sugar as Mr. Hassleberry claimed it was, or was he just being funny? As I read the letter to the end, there's a variety of emotions affecting me. First off is surprise, albeit of the more pleasant variety. I was expecting to have to carry out the search entirely on my own, but here the Princess is already spreading the word of my dilemma and sparing me the need to travel. Best case scenario, we can find something that works in record time. Worst case, somepony at least cares enough to take my situation seriously. Either way this is good news, assuming that she's being legitimate. Secondly, we have eagerness. The thieves I caught put up a halfway decent showing in light of how far out of their league I was, but I'd believed that they were some of the best that the city offered in terms of skill. The Princess' phrasing is leading me to believe that they have somepony capable of pushing me. If this is true, I can keep myself from getting soft and have myself a fun time in so doing. Sadly it will probably be a land battle only, but it's not keeping my inner warrior from slamming its fists together. And finally... I'm actually somewhat touched. When one pictures a ruler, most people don't imagine them as being truly "approachable". By this, you don't really expect them to take time off from their busy jobs and interact with the masses on a face-to-face basis as if they occupied the same station or knew them personally, never mind the breaches of etiquette that would result. It should also be pointed out that exceptions to this are few and far between. But that offer she made... I had a friend, once. He was just a human I'd met after the first time I'd teamed up with Harpuia to make some place or other livable again. He'd complimented me, stated that he appreciated the work that we were doing, and was all-around charming. Having someone to talk to on an even keel was a novelty, so I stayed in contact with him for some time. After Copy X took over and things took a turn for the worse, my relationship with the man soured quickly. One day we were trading messages back and forth, and he called me out on "dancing to the tune of a madman" and culling Reploids whose only crime was living; I 'defended' myself, such as it was, by stating that Master X's orders were absolute and intended for Neo Arcadia's security. He was having none of it, telling me that I meant the security of humans, not humans and Reploids both, and disconnected the transmission. I tried to call him back the next day, only to receive an automatic message stating that my personal terminal was being prevented from contacting him. Somehow, he'd managed to put two and two together and figure out that the situation in Neo Arcadia was not what it appeared to be; you can count the number of humans who'd figured it out on both hands. He never took up arms against the regime, possibly due to a lack of courage, but he never supported it either. Obviously, that little fight wasn't enough to deter me from following the course I was on. After that last conversation I never saw or heard from him again, and during lulls in activity I wonder if he's doing alright. And I still ponder whether or not he hates me. He was smart, but I have my doubts that he ever learned the truth about the three of us "acting in Master X's stead" after the mad leader was defeated by Zero. Now we have this. In my interview with Mr. Lede, I'd opened my heart to Equestria. Nothing was restricted information: I told them everything I considered good about myself, and made no effort to hide everything that I knew was bad. And today, here comes the nation's sovereign ruler armed with that knowledge, writing to me directly and telling me that she was willing to be my friend in spite of my flaws. She even apologized for her stunt with the sun. This is just unbelievable... ... ...but blazes if it doesn't make me feel like I'm on top of the world. I say as much to Drama, and she giggles. "Take your time and figure out how you're going to respond," she says. "This isn't the sort of situation that you can just rush into." I roll my eyes. "She's asking if I want to be her friend, not if I want to go out on a date. I'm fairly certain those are meant to be mutually exclusive." “If you say so,” she says, obviously not believing me as she reaches for her own mail. “You're going to go through the rest of your messages now, or later?” “Maybe later,” I decide. “I haven't done any of my regular training exercises since I arrived, and there's enough space on-stage for me to move about freely. If I'm going to be fighting somepony in the future, I want to be ready.” “You have your fun, then.” Drama waves me off and turns back to her desk, using her horn as a letter opener to tear through the envelope she was holding. “Just don't break anything, or you'll be cleaning it up solo.” “Yes, I know, I know,” I say as I leave the office. Alright, let's see. No access to water, so Exercise and Dance #1 should be satisfactory--- "EEEEEEE!" I stumble as Drama's window-rattling shriek tries to bowl me over. That noise had several degrees of 'delight' wrapped around it. "Drama, what is it?" I call as I hustle back into her office. "Is something wrong?" "Is something wrong? Is something wrong?!" Drama's waving a paper around, getting that same look on her face that she had when... we first met oh father of Omega. "Fairy, I just got a letter from my baby sister in Baltimare! She just had it confirmed that she's pregnant with twins!" She slams the letter down and launches herself at me before I can react, hitting me with a flying tackle that knocks me off my feet, and---wow that's the biggest natural smile I've seen on a pony's face yet. I think I can see my reflection in her teeth. "I'm going to be an aunt! Celestia, I'm going to be an aunt!" Almost immediately upon saying those words, she jumps off and tears off out of the office. "Gotta find my suitcase! If I'm fast enough I can catch the next train to Baltimare!" The noise of her galloping up the stairs and her voice taking on a melodious tint both reach me. "Auntie Salamandra's on her way, baby darlings~!" It takes a few seconds for me to find my voice again, and by then she's out of earshot. All that just happened way too quickly. "But... the kids aren't even born yet," I protest weakly as I stand back up. Please don't ask me to housesit, please don't ask me to housesit... ... ... "Be back in three days! Don't do anything I wouldn't do, and even a few things I would!" Drama instructs me fifteen minutes later, laden with her saddlebags and carrying a stuffed suitcase in her magic. She pats my hand, then she's out the door like a shot. She just barely remembers to lock it behind her before she's gone. "Gonna be an auunnnttt!" My vision's wavering. There's a new message in my HUD: 'Left eyelid malfunctioning.' "Really wishing I'd taken up Phantom's offer of stealth training right now," I complain to the empty lobby. "...and based on the report, it looks as if the search has come up empty so far," Captain Shining Armor reported to Princess Celestia in the latter's chambers. "But then again, we haven't gone so far as to check in with every magic user in the city. Not everypony we've spoken to wants to get involved in this, and you've already instructed us to be discreet about it." "That is fair," Celestia decided. "If they want to stay out of this, forcing them to obey is hardly a good idea. Have your Guardsponies finish up here in Canterlot and continue their search in Ponyville, but tell them not to hurry. Just because we've decided to help our wayward machine return home doesn't mean that we have to rush or be pushy. All in due time." Shining saluted his superior. "As ordered, Princess. Is there anything else?" Celestia started to tell him 'no', but thought better of it at the last moment. "Actually, just one. Following the revelation of her presence and abilities in the Minutes, I sent Fairy Leviathan a letter informing her of my intention to test her abilities. All I'm waiting for is either confirmation or rejection of my offer. I expect it will take at least another few days before I hear back from her." "Assuming she agrees, will you be wanting me to determine that she's everything she says she is? My schedule's clear enough that I can afford to spend some time in Manehattan." Celestia shook her head, smiling as she made a quick decision. "I'll need you down there sometime in the near future, but not to fight. You'll be required to officiate." Doing the math, one of Shining's eyebrows disappeared under his helmet. "Officiate? I wasn't aware we had anypony truly combat-capable living down there." "And for good reason," Celestia stated. "The individual I have in mind was one of their Royal Police's best and brightest. Criminals feared her. The citizens felt safer around her. She loved practical jokes, but she knew how to separate work and play, and she took her duties seriously." One corner of her mouth twitched. "And to borrow one of your expressions, she was 'an absolute beast' in combat. But then she found love, and she decided that raising her family took precedence over her career. After she married, she quit her job and disappeared for fifteen years. I only discovered that she was alive and well when she alerted me to Leviathan's existence ahead of the newspaper." "That would explain why I never heard of her, if she was off the grid for so long," Shining commented, sounding impressed. "But if she spent so long inactive, wouldn't her skills have dulled too much for her to be an adequate gauge for Leviathan's prowess?" "A reasonable question to ask," Celestia agreed. "But I don't feel that there's anything to worry about. I have little doubt that she's practicing her combat exercises on a rooftop somewhere, making sure that her skills are still sharp. She always did have an eerie knack for figuring out when she was needed, even if much of her rationale revolved around pure guesswork and randomness..." Gray stared at the grouper through the thick glass of its tank, and the grouper stared back. Ocean Guard edged up to his wife. "Dear," he said quietly, "I know that look. What are you thinking about?" Gray licked her lips. "I'm thinking that I need to do something about this unnatural craving for fish sticks that I'm having," she responded without turning her head. Behind her, the children face-hoofed as one. Their father, being more charmed than put off by his wife's quirks, just smiled and joined her in watching the fish.