A Sweetie-Bot Story: What makes a pony?

by Bipolarpinkie


Prequel: Discovery

Prequel: Discovery

“Get out of the way!”

That was the last thing I heard before I died. What a shame, I was so young, so cute. I wonder what they'll say in my obl-, um, obi-tu-ary. That's the word.

I wonder if I have enough to time to scream.

Oh right, I'm already screaming.

Hey! It doesn't sound that bad. Maybe a bit on the sharp side, but not bad for a filly. Maybe I can be an actress, or a singer! Maybe one of those opera girls. Or even something in science!

...Oh right. I'm about to die. Well that blows.

So yeah... I'm not really that, um, pro-found. I mean it was only last week I learned that colts weren't icky. That some can even be kind cute. Aw shucks, if I realized I was going to die today, I might have kissed one. Maybe. When Apple Bloom and Scootaloo weren't looking.

I wonder if my sister is going to be mad. I'm sorry that I argued with her this morning. I mean if she wasn't so bossy and stupid, I wouldn't have had to argue with her, and be mad, and not looking when I tried to cross the road. Maybe when I die, she'll stop being a snobby know-it-all.

Sheesh this thing is taking forever. My lungs are starting to hurt-

BLAM

Ah, there I go. I'm dead.

____________________________________________________________

“Oh Celestia, how bad is she doctor?”

“I...please allow me a second ma'ma, though I think you should sit down.” Dr. Heartfelt motion to a chair in the waiting room.

“Wha- sit down?” Rarity froze, her hooves still on the doctor's shoulders, no longer attempting to push through him.

He nodded and guided her over to the chair, then went to the door of the waiting room and signaled for a nurse. They were the only ones in the waiting room, so they waited in silence. Rarity fidgeted with her hair, barely noticing that she was creating a mess of fuzzy strands. She tried not to stare at the doctor, instead tried to look at the tiles or read over the outdated magazines, but she couldn't help it. He was a tall stallion, brown coat and mane, and his cutie mark was a blue cross over a red heart. He even had a cute little smock on. He was, as she would put it, very “fetching”. In a different situation, she might have fluff up her mane, done a little catwalk strut, and used the sultry eyes that she had perfected in front of the mirror, but today flirting was the last thing on her mind. Instead, her eyes kept drifting back to the doctor as though if she stared at him long enough he would tell her it had all been a big mistake. That it wasn't her Sweetie Belle that had gotten hurt, and that Rarity could go back to her dresses.

Finally, a nurse came by with a clipboard. Rarity began to get up, but when the doctor didn't call her over, she sat down again hesitantly. She pulled her hooves from her hair and planted them firmly on the ground. As though she was bracing against a strong wind. She didn't want to look like a wreck in front of the doctor, but she couldn't stop worrying.

How could this have happened? Sweetie Belle and the Crusaders do reckless things, but never like this. They shouldn't have been out there. Why wasn't anyone keeping an eye on them? Why hadn't she been keeping an eye on them?

But she already knew the truth. In all the previous times, Sweetie Belle and the Crusaders had been fine. All their adventures ended with nothing worst then a few scratches. Now, she knew how stupid it was to think that this pattern would continued, but it had been a safe and convenient lie that she had fed herself so that she could focus on her business. At the time, her dresses were more important then worrying over an over-active filly and her friends. After all, she was a up and coming contender in the fashion field. If she wanted to keep her competitive edge, she had to give all her time to the dresses. All of her attention. Never mind the spa days with Fluttershy, or her adventures with the girls. Those didn't count. Though, she knew eventually that one of the fillies would get hurt seriously, but she had selfishly thought it wouldn't be Sweetie Belle. After all, Scootaloo was much more reckless. She was always trying to emulate Rainbow Dash. Rarity was certain that Scootaloo would be injured, and then it would be easy to convince Sweetie Belle to quit crusading and wait for her cutie mark. Now though, Rarity knew she had been just as reckless as Scootaloo with Sweetie Belle's safety.

“Ms. Rarity?”

Rarity jerked her head up. “What? Oh!” She jumped up from the seat rushing to the doctor. He continued reading the clipboard, not looking at her.

“Doctor, can I see her? Can I see my Sweetie Belle.”

The doctor continued looking at the board, but his eyes were no longer reading it. She began to fidget, unsure what to make of the pause, but finally, he lowered the board.

“I don't think that would be a good idea.” He looked at her. “There have been complications...”

She raised her head staring at the doctor. “What do you mean, complications?” she said, as the world began crumple and fall away.

“I think it's best if you take a seat again.”

_____________________________________________________

She sat in the darkness and tried not to listen to the silence of the room. She was thinking. Right now her thoughts were reassuring. They were of tasks, and duties, and responsibilities left unfilled. They were not of the scene she had seen earlier, where a caring sister had crumpled to the floor, tears in her eyes, attempting to bargain with someone who didn't have the power to bring back her loved one.

She thought about controls, variables, and experiments. About paperwork and letters to write. About a dozen different things. The thoughts were certainly not about the small body on the bed next to her, so impossibly small and still. They were not about how it reminded her of so many other friends, who had been larger then life when they were living, yet so tiny in death.

The door opened and her head snapped up. A brown pony, with a cutie mark that was a blue cross on top of a red heart, walked in.

“Horse-apples. I hate giving bad news-” The doctor shut the door behind him “-I hate having to lie about it even more.” He took his time taking off his smock, carefully hanging it up on the door, “But you wouldn't know about either would you, Princess?” He turned and stared her in the eyes, “After all, you have lowly ponies like me to keep your hooves clean.”

She stared back, not responding, but allowed her wings to give a slight flick in agitation. As subtle as the gesture was, when placed next to her stoic demeanor, it sent a clear warning.

“Fine, then.” Dr. Heartfelt broke eye contact and turned towards the hospital bed, “How's she?”

It has been inactive since the accident.” She picked herself up and approached the bed standing next to the doctor.

A metallic device sitting on the side table cast a green glow on the doctor as he leaned in and examined the small crumpled form on the bed, “She seems to be unconscious, but she shows no sign of breathing and she's as cold as a corpse.”

“It's very much functioning doctor. I've reached the conclusion that it has shut down all non-vital functions to conserve energy and repair itself.”

“How can you know that?”

“That information is classified doctor.”

“And I have the clearance, otherwise I wouldn't be here, and some other fool would be doing your dirty work,” he continued looking at the bed, frowning.

“I was just reminding you doctor.” She sat back, away from the light, “It shares the same design as the others. Its brain and heart contain all the vital functions. As long as those remain undamaged, it can survive.”

“Almost as if she was a pony,” he interjected.

“Its creator wanted it to be as pony-like as possible. He was an insane fool.”

“And who would 'he' be?” Heartfelt said with a hint of curiosity.

“Even you don't have the clearance for that.”

The doctor grimaced, “Fine. Keep your secrets. I've already seen enough of this operation,” the doctor spat out the last word in disgust, and turned towards the door. “At least, she's the last of them, and this is the last time I've got to do this. I'm leaving. Probably to some place warm and wet. The next time you need my services, find another pony.”

The doctor began to march off.

“Wait.”

He froze in place, but continued to pawing the ground as though wanting to continue forward. Forward and away from her.

“Look doctor. I know you don't agree with the ways I handle things, but it is for the good of ponykind. A pony of your intelligence can see that.”

He glared at the ground for a second before moving towards the door. “You may be right Princess, but what gives us the right to decide the fate of others? It wasn't always like this. It wasn't always lies and deceptions. Tearing families apart. When did we sink so low that we would abduct a little filly for the mission?”

She gave no response; she didn't have too. They both knew the answer to that question. They both knew when things became serious. They both knew never to talk about it out loud.

She sat there as Heartfelt left. The closing of the door resonating in the silence. Finally, she turned and looked at the bed.

Sweetie Belle lay there curled up in a small ball as though she was sleeping, but her unnatural stillness betrayed her true state. Among the blankets and pillows, she looked small and vulnerable. Just another filly in a bed made for adults, but this filly wasn't just another filly. This filly had a much darker secret.

The princess pulled in close, “What secrets do you hold little one? Why are you different from the others? So much smaller, so much more lifelike? What was the reason you where created. What purpose did your creator have for you?” she whispered into the its ear. She almost imagined that the filly twitched in response, as though saying it didn't know either. She pulled back in disgust.

Attached to Sweetie Belle's body where stickers and wires leading to a metallic box off to the side. The box worked in silence, powered by a magic crystal. It made no noise because it had no moving parts. She had designed and made it herself. Crafted it with such precision, with such rare and durable metals, and with such powerful magic that it could work for a thousand years or more without breaking. It was a marvel of science and magic, yet it still paled in comparison to the machine on the bed.

The crystals on the box turned from green to blue, and began emitting series of flashes, conveying a code that only she could decipher.

The princess stared at it. “Could it be?” She shook her head, “More test are needed.”

She had stayed here long enough. Any longer and she might be discovered by another pony. It was time to leave.

A purple aura of magic surrounded the machine, then Sweetie Belle. They both floated up next to her and a bright light surrounded the princess's horn before spreading over her and the objects in her telekinesis grasp. Then, they teleported away.

Several moments passed. Then the door opened, a nurse pony attracted by the flash looked in. Finding it empty she closed the door, and barely missed seeing a single, vivid purple feather drift slowly to the floor.