//------------------------------//
// Arc 2 - Part 1: A Day Like Any Other 
// Story: Mass Effect: Shades of Twilight 
// by Loyal2Luna 
//------------------------------//


A Day Like Any Other



Active Log: 42 of 50 - Day 65 A.E.

Present location: Huerta Memorial Hospital, Presidium

Status: processing data




The changeling mech known as Forty-Two of Fifty stood still outside the red-locked sliding door of the hospital room, apparently watching the events unfolding around it with a blank, uninterested expression that was perfectly suited for an emotionless virtual intelligence.

To many of the organic beings milling about, alien and Equestrian alike, it was an enviable position: Unaware and uncaring of the uncertainties of life and the torrent of emotions that were still running high from the ponies being checked and examined by the medical professionals of the Citadel. Free from the question that plagued all of them:

How could this have happened?

But as only one Equestrian truly understood (that being the mare behind the door leading into the Intensive Care Unit), the synthetic intelligence within the black metal shell was anything but free from the impact of that question. Under the blank, emotionless front, an artificial mind unlike anything else left in the galaxy worked feverishly, poring over every event that had transpired over the past few solar days, trying to piece together everything leading to this point.

He should have seen it coming; should have acted sooner, more decisively. He should have taken appropriate action instead of merely standing by to accumulate more data. He had missed things… made mistakes… so many mistakes. Any being who claimed that machines were above such things was either an idiot or a foal. And their people had suffered for it.

And now he was here, standing still as a statue while his processes scrambled for intel, reviewing every record, screening every bit of data, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. His analysis eventually led him to a data-file archived in the wireless database shared between himself and his fellow non-sapient changelings.

His eyes’ lumination dimmed as Forty-Two became less aware of his physical surroundings, manually pinging the changeling in question over the distance back to New Ponyville.


*Establishing data-link with Ferris Series - 9 of 12*

...

*Data-link established*

*Relaying instructions*

*Unit complying; preparing to receive information*



*Transmission received: Hourglass Series - 42 of 50*

*Verifying credentials*

…

*Verified*

*Command received: Transfer of archived log files from index “Day 60 A.E., Hour 11:30 Citadel Standard”*

*Initiating log playback*

…

==Unit tasked with escort and protection of Administrator Applejack (EoH) outside of Designated Residence Zone 01: “New Ponyville”==

==Unit and EoH arrive at destination: Huerta Memorial Hospital, Citadel Presidium, via public rapid transit system==

==EoH enters momentary negotiation over cost of transport service rendered; automated virtual intelligence refuses negotiation==

==EoH pays fee; suggests to unit that charge of service is form of “highway robbery”==

==Unit corrects based on galactic definition of term; EoH retracts statement; expression denotes frustration with unit==

==Unit escorts EoH through hospital reception area; threat level: negligible; no hostility detected==

==Human Receptionist [Registered Identity: Blackwell, Rebecca, Nurse] welcomes EoH==

==EoH initiates greetings on first name basis; social pleasantries exchanged==

==Unit escorts EoH to hospital Coma Ward; arrival at destination: Room 56-B, current occupant: Hern, Patricia, Dr.==

==EoH inputs new directive; task parameters altered; Guard Mode activated==

==12:04 Citadel Standard; three human organics move into immediate vicinity==

==Identity confirmed, [Registered Identity: Hern, Joshua]; identity confirmed, [Registered Identity: Hern, Alexander]; third human unknown, uniform indicates medical professional==

==[Hern, Joshua] demands stand-down of Guard Mode; analysis of voiceprint suggests aggression==

==Authority not recognized; Guard Mode maintained; verbal apologetic selected and delivered==

==Hostility detected; upgraded to Confrontation Mode; verbal warning selected and delivered==

==Confrontation Mode deactivated, authority: EoH; Observation Mode engaged; threat level: burgundy==

==EoH converses with [Hern, Joshua], [Unidentified Human]; unit detects marked rise in EoH blood pressure and stress levels==

==[Hern, Alexander] shows acute interest in unit; no threat detected from human adolescent==

==[Hern, Joshua] orders [Hern, Alexander] to withdraw; human adolescent complies==

==Decibel level of conversation between EoH and [Hern, Joshua] rises above both Citadel and hospital regulations=

==[Unidentified Human] intervenes; forwards legal document to EoH via omni-tool data transfer==

==Alert! Unidentified malicious program detected in data transfer; malicious program intercepted and decompiled per Protocol 471, authority: Hourglass Series - 42 of 50==

==EoH assimilates contents transferred in legal document; zero viral infection detected in omni-hoof==

==EoH withdraws from confrontation; expression suggests displeasure==

==[Hern, Joshua], [Hern, Alexander], [Unidentified Human] enter Room 56-B==

==Unit informs EoH of attempted placement of viral program==

==EoH commends unit; definition of term “lying varmints” in conjunction with humans not found==

==EoH requests assistance; recording ordered to cease immediately, authority: EoH==

*End of log*




Though he was perfectly capable of experiencing the full range of emotions afforded most organic beings, frustration was one emotion in particular that Forty-Two could not claim to be very familiar with. However, this was rapidly changing.

Most synthetics wouldn’t even pause to consider the abrupt termination of information like the one that Nine of Twelve just provided, but as Forty-Two was not most synthetics, this fact caused him no small amount of consternation. He was concerned; upset. Upset at himself for being upset.

It was times like this that he envied his brothers, who if given a similar task, would simply search for the facts, present the information, and when the task was completed, detach from it entirely.

But Forty-Two was not looking for facts; he was looking for answers. And while it was true that he could start filtering through all of the sensor data that was stored in Nine of Twelve's primary memory unit in order to piece together the events that occurred in the hospital, given his current state of mind, it was probably not the best idea.

The Madam President’s personal assistant cut the connection leading back to New Ponyville and instead turned his analysis inward. As he began to correlate his own internal memory log with the timeframe of Nine of Twelve's absent data-files, he could not help but process a passing insight.

And things had been going so well that morning... the mech considered as he began to review his personal logs. How could we have known that it would so quickly turn into a nightmare?


——————



Archived log: 42 of 50 - Day 60 A. E.

Present location: Grocer’s Greens, New Ponyville market

Status: rendering assistance

Madam President currently in urgent administrative decision




“So... should I go with the asparagus... or the collard greens?” the lavender unicorn asked as she tapped her chin thoughtfully, her eyes shifting between the two labeled cans floating in front of her in an aura of pulsating lavender light.

“Neither option appears to have a significant dietary advantage over the other. Should it not be a question of taste, Madam President?” suggested her mechanical assistant.

“That's just the thing. I'm not sure what either one of them tastes like anymore." Twilight Sparkle shook her head as she continued to inspect the label on either can, each portraying an idealized sample of the vegetable canned and preserved within, under the heading of an Eden Prime-based distributor. "And after that fiasco with the daisies, I know better than to trust my own nostalgia."

Forty-Two, of course, remembered all too well the experience of which the Madam President spoke, having saved it in glorious high definition at over a thousand frames per second for slow-motion replay. That particular data-file containing her expression as she took a bite out a sandwich stuffed with the Earth-native flower gave him no small amount of personal amusement.

Apparently, the Equestria System had managed to approximate and simulate the general taste of a number of Earth-based food products. But as a synthetic himself, he understood that an approximation and the general understanding of the theory of taste did not always translate properly on the tongues of organic species. Of late, particularly since expanding New Ponyville's food import budget to include a more varied selection, there had been the realization of some “less than accurate” portrayals of the Sol System vegetarian palette that the Equestrians were still coming to terms with.

"Madam President, might I suggest that you simply acquire both so that you may sample each?" the changeling offered, amazed that a decision of this scale was giving the leader of an entire species pause. Especially after the brutal baptism by fire that Twilight had experienced during those crucial first few weeks on the Ward.

Although he did have to consider the fact that she could now spend time on such a seemingly mundane decision, and that it was a sign that things had calmed down considerably in New Ponyville.

“I could, but that would put me over-budget,” Twilight responded, licking her upper lip. "Ooooh, I knew it was mistake coming down here on an empty stomach... I should've gotten something to eat before I went shopping."

Forty-Two’s optics, by design, could not roll inside of his head. The best he could do was to shift the concentrations of light given off by their crystalline surface, but it just wasn’t the same.

"Madam President, as de facto leader of the Equestrian Herd, I believe that Ms. Grocer would be more than willing to let you have one can for free."

“Oh, sure. That's where it starts,” Twilight sighed with a small dose of sarcasm. “Pretty soon, ponies will start talking about how the Madam President is using her authority to encourage tribute from the local food vendors. And then it’s only a short trot away from--”

“Twi,” the mech started, his tone flat, but not in a mechanical fashion. A quick sensor sweep of the store confirmed the fact that there were no eavesdroppers present before he assumed a more casual voice. "Didn't I warn you about watching that extranet exposé on Citadel political scandals?"

"...Yes." The unicorn blushed slightly, her expression sheepish and clearly eager to change the subject. She hovered one can up above the other, as if only just realized that they were still held in her biotic grasp. "I’ll just go with the asparagus this time."

“And thus, New Ponyville shall sleep soundly knowing that the tyranny of the canned good dictator has been thwarted.”

Twilight gave the black drone a sour look as he delivered the line with a perfectly straight face as only a synthetic could achieve. “Forty-Two, remind me: You do have a mute button, right?”

“Correct, Madam President.”

“Use it, would you?”

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Twilight." The mech's eyes lit up in a fashion that Twilight had long since come to relate with a mischievous grin, drawing a small amused smile from his mistress as one can was moved to her saddlebag and the other replaced on the shelf of Grocer's Greens.


——————


The second level of Tayseri District 1286 (which had recently been christened “Mane Street” by the district’s residents) contained the vast majority of the Equestrians’ business interests and had remained the busiest area of New Ponyville since opening.

This was something that Twilight could certainly appreciate as she navigated her way through the groups of aliens and Equestrians alike, given a respectful degree of space by the latter while the former seemed genuinely confused when they recognized her and took note of the now-full saddlebags slung over her back, filled with groceries and a few other luxuries for her apartment.

Forty-Two, observing the curious glances of a nearby pair of salarians, considered that this situation was likely an oddity for most species.

“Madam President...” The mech started, his tone flat and mechanical as it usually was when the two were out in public. “This unit again inquires if it can assist in carrying your saddlebags.”

“That won’t be necessary, Forty-Two,” Twilight answered with an amused smile, nodding back to the black synthetic. “It’s nice of you to offer, but I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bags.”

In private, Forty-Two might have pressed the issue, but given that they were being actively observed from multiple angles, he decided to keep his concerns to himself.

To the citizens of most governments, their leaders were often portrayed as larger-than-life figures who were expected to leave mundane affairs like “shopping” to be handled by personal attendants. Such activities were likely considered “beneath” individuals of their high stations.

Twilight, on the other hoof, considered these simple activities as luxuries in their own rights, and that having the time to perform errands such as running down to the grocer’s for food gave her a much-needed sense of normalcy. And even when she wasn’t doing business, presidential or otherwise, the unicorn would often spend some time each day to browse what new goods the various shops around the district had acquired now that they had better established themselves.

Running over the numbers, Forty-Two had to admit that he was impressed. The initial burst of attention given during the opening of New Ponyville had generated a significant source of income for the novel new species on the Citadel. It was true that much of the draw could be attributed to sheer curiosity, but the Herd’s growing reputation as independent and hard-working individuals (along with a more personal touch as the Herd forwent the “low overhead” method of using electronic kiosks in favor of direct interaction with their customer base) seemed to be endearing them to many of the Citadel’s permanent residents.

While Treasurer Sterling continued to remind the Madam President at every meeting that the Herd was still indebted to a number of sources over startup costs, the constant flow of people and credits was enough to allay fears of remission at this stage. Quite the opposite: Multiple pony enterprises were almost constantly improving or expanding as the ponies grew more skilled and their clienteles became more diverse.

That’s not to say everything had been going perfectly for the Equestrian Herd, and as Twilight walked by the burned-out husk of the sales kiosk that was once “Gears and Cogs: Repair and Salvage,” she was reminded of just how true that was.

The events of the fire two weeks back had shown that, in spite of the Herd’s innate knack with technology, they were hardly infallible. This had been made abundantly clear in the case of Gear Shift: a younger would-be entrepreneur who had attempted to open his own repair shop in the district independent of Sugar³. It was unfortunate that the young pegasus’ enthusiasm and ingenuity had to be tempered by his overzealousness, and when his very first repair attempt resulted in a small explosion followed by a not-so-small electrical fire, it pretty much spelled the end for Gears and Cogs.

To everypony’s relief, Gear Shift himself was not badly harmed. The same could not be said for his equipment, however, and as a result of the incident, the colt had been strongly urged to report to Sugar³, where he could more effectively apply his talents under the careful tutelage of Pinkie and Vinyl Scratch.

Twilight couldn't help but suppress a snicker. It was a strange occasion indeed for a pony to be put under Pinkie Pie’s supervision in order to keep them out of trouble.

Unfortunately, her moment of amusement had to be cut short, as the mech at her flank suddenly drew her attention with a soft, digital-sounding ping. His antennae had meanwhile started to light up in a manner that Twilight had learned to regard with a sense of dread.

“Oh, for the love of... What is it this time, Forty-Two?” the unicorn asked, trying and failing to keep the annoyance out of her voice as she came to an abrupt halt.

“Unit Twenty-One of Thirty is reporting an act of vandalism in progress,” the drone reported mechanically.

“Vandalism?” Twilight tilted her head at the information, or rather, the lack of information. “Could you be more specific?”

“Specifically, Twenty-One of Thirty is reporting willful defacement of its external shell," Forty-Two related to her. “The situation is being marked as ‘low priority,’ and has been added to New Ponyville Security’s investigation queue.”

“Then why are you bringing this to my attention? Isn’t this something Rainbow can take care of?”

“The incident is occurring approximately fifty meters away from our present location,” the mech stated blankly, before he leaned towards the Madam President and lowered the volume of his speakers. “And you may be interested in the identities of the four perpetrators.”

That caused Twilight to raise an eyebrow. “Who are they?”

“...Take a guess.”

Twilight did not need to guess, simply bowing her head and giving the mech a resigned sigh. “...Let’s go.”

“Follow me, Madam President,” the synthetic instructed, a pair of gossamer nanofiber wings unfolding from his back and buzzing with an insect-like sound that lifted and propelled him down Mane Street. Twilight followed at a brisk canter, taking no heed of the aliens that were observing both the flying mech and the Madam President with great interest.       

It did not take them long to reach their destination, as mere moments later, the pair was close enough to hear the childish giggling coming from the small, open space situated snugly between the Cakes’ new confectionery: “Celestial Delights,” and the Sugar³ distribution outlet. With the source of the disturbance confirmed, Twilight calmly slowed to a stop and took a deep breath while Forty-Two came to ground at her side, taking her lead before moving quietly into an alleyway.

The Keeper Junctions, as Twilight had learned over the last few weeks, were small open areas located between multiple buildings throughout the district which allowed the Citadel’s most benign resident species to access New Ponyville from the tunnels that ran the length of the Ward.

There wasn’t a Keeper present in the alley today, but what awaited her there instead was no surprise at all, as she made out the four small figures that had surrounded Twenty-One of Thirty, which was standing stock still. As she took in the specifics of the scene and realized what was happening, it was all that Twilight could do not to betray her presence by laughing out loud.

“This unit insists that you cease your current course of action immediately,” the mech offered in a neutral, pre-recorded tone that only hinted at annoyance. “Repeat: Security has been notified.”

“Ahhh, don’tcha fret none, Twenty-One,” Apple Bloom, the ringleader of these troublesome little fillies, spoke up around the thin paintbrush that was held between her teeth. The Apple filly was dressed in a plain-looking, loose-fitting shirt that hung off her barrel, exposing a good portion of her furry midsection before her flank and hind legs were covered in a set of denim-like trousers covered in small pockets. “Ah’m just about finished, an’ it’s lookin’ great. Jus’ keep holdin’ still.”

Twilight observed for a moment as the filly dipped the brush in a small can placed at her hooves, and brought it back coated in a fresh layer of stark white paint. She lifted the wet brush, drawing a dripping white line as steadily as she could on the mech’s curved metallic flank, and completing a fractional slash between the numbers “21” and “30.”

Apple Bloom nodded at her work with satisfaction. “Right, now let’s try ta get the other side.”

“I wonder... Is this technically a cutie mark or a tattoo?” Sweetie Belle asked, her back to the approaching mare and drone, both of whom could still appreciate the elegantly designed gold and ivory dress that covered her hind legs completely and wrapped her front legs and chest snugly. The frills at the fringes were a touch that made her outfit seem a bit overly formal for day-to-day wear, but then again, Twilight supposed, with Rarity being the one responsible for clothing her entire species, she could afford to make her little sister look like a vid-starlett.

“Neither,” Scootaloo told her friend, dressed in a brown faux-leather bomber jacket that was left open, exposing her barrel and belly with a set of form-fitting black trousers wrapping her flank and hind legs, as she stood on the mech’s back. From her position, it seemed as if the filly was trying to find a way to open the small, nearly imperceptible slit on the mech’s shell from which its wings unfolded, and was failing miserably. “It’s a serial number, isn’t it?”

“I think it all depends on if a changeling is a machine or a pony,” Silver Spoon spoke up, her tone clearly more worried as she stood on the opposite side of the mech from Apple Bloom. Silver’s outfit, as opposed to those of her partners in crime, was a duller grey than her coat, incredibly conservative, and lacking in personality, reminding Twilight of the sort of business suits she had seen on humans in the Presidium Banking District.

Judging by the way the filly fidgeted in her outfit, shifting uncomfortably in the all-encompassing, stiff fabric, Twilight hazarded a guess that the choice of attire was not entirely her own.

“Well a’ course he’s a pony,” Apple Bloom objected before patting the mech on the flank. “Ain’t ya, Twenty-One?”

“No, it’s not… ‘It’ is a robot,” Scootaloo argued.

“No he ain’t. He’s a pony.”

“Robot.”

“Pony!”

“Robot!”

“Neither! The proper term is artificial intelligence,” Silver interrupted, trying to correct both of her friends.

“Clarification: This unit is classified as a Type Five All-Purpose Synthetic Intelligence,” Twenty-One offered helpfully, still following the filly’s instruction and not moving.

“What are you, a dictionary?” Sweetie asked, amused.

“If required, this unit is fully capable of performing that function.”

As the four young ponies and their defenseless “victim” continued their intense discussion, Twilight was finding their antics to be slightly more captivating than she expected. Then, a subtle prod by her assistant served to remind her of why they were there, and she rolled her eyes at him before innocently raising a hoof to her snout.

“A-hem...”

The four fillies immediately went rigid as Twilight cleared her throat, calling attention to herself for the first time. It was apparent in the shock of eight very large filly eyes as they turned to the mare that they had not noticed her approach.

“Uhh...” Apple Bloom’s mouth went slack, sending the brush in her lips clattering lightly to the ground. The sound made her jump slightly, and in a panicked motion, she grabbed it and the paint can, pushing them behind her legs quickly and putting on a nervous smile. “H-howdy, Twilight.”

Scootaloo in turn, leaped down from Twenty-One’s back alongside Sweetie, the two beaming innocently while Silver Spoon hesitantly moved up beside them.

“Good morning, Madam President,” Silver greeted her with a forced smile, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary, which assured Twilight that the four were acutely aware that their current activity might not be so well-received.

“Girls, what do you think you’re doing?” Twilight managed to keep a straight face in spite of already being fully aware of the answer.

The four fillies looked between one another before giving a dejected sigh in unison.

“Well…” Sweetie started.

“We were kinda bored…” Scootaloo continued, drawing a hoof over the ground. “And Apple Bloom mentioned…”

“Ah thought it was weird that we couldn’t tell any of the changelings apart, so Ah thought maybe we could…”

“Are we in trouble?” Silver cringed, clearly concerned.

Twilight gave the three a curious look before raising her gaze to the mech, who watched with a blank expression in its blue-lit eyes.

“That depends…” With a single motion, the Madam President lifted a hoof and moved it in a rotational motion, which the drone correctly interpreted and maneuvered, giving the unicorn a proper look at the crudely drawn numeral along its flank. “Would you like to explain?”

“Well…” Apple Bloom drew out the word before huffing. “We’ve been tryin’ ta think a’ what we wanna have as our cutie marks, so Rarity can go ahead and put ‘em on our new clothes,” she said, motioning to her own undecorated backside as well as those of her friends.

“Yeah, and she’s already warned us that we need to be reeeeeeeally sure about what we want, since she doesn’t want to have to redo our outfits in case we change our minds,” Sweetie explained.

“And that’s what’s so frustrating!” Scootaloo fell back on her haunches and threw her forelegs up in the air exasperatedly. “After all the stuff we tried back in Equestria, we actually get the chance to make our own cutie marks, and we can’t even figure out what we want!”

Apple Bloom nodded in agreement. “So Ah thought... maybe if we helped other folks figure out their cutie marks, that might give us some ideas.”

Twilight tapped a hoof to her chin in thought before turning to Silver, who had remained suspiciously quiet. “Silver Spoon, didn’t you already have a cutie mark?”

“Yeah, and I used to think it made me cool...” Silver pouted. “But thinking back on it now, it wasn’t really all that great.” The filly shook her head before giving the Madam President a more determined expression, pushing her green glasses up on her nose in a manner that immediately reminded Twilight of Silver’s mother. “I don’t want a cutie mark that reminds me of what a spoiled, selfish brat I used to be. That filly doesn’t exist anymore.”

Twilight couldn’t help but feel heartened by the small grey pony’s sense of maturity about the situation, but at the same time, it brought up one item of note that she felt the need to point out.

“So, if I understand you correctly, the Cutie Mark Crusaders are giving away cutie marks?” The unicorn held a hoof to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Isn’t that a little ironic?”

“Oh, we’re not the ‘Cutie Mark’ Crusaders anymore!” Apple Bloom lit up, clearly interpreting the slip of Twilight’s expression as a sign that perhaps they were not in trouble after all. “We’re…”

Far too familiar with what came next, Twilight flattened her ears preemptively as the four fillies shouted at the top of their lungs.

“THE NEW EQUESTRIAN CRUSADERS!”

“I... see.” Twilight nodded, her ears perking up once she was certain she was safe from any further breaches of the Citadel’s “noise pollution” threshold.

“We’re crusading not just fer ourselves anymore, but fer everypony!” Apple Bloom followed up with vigor.

“We want to make New Ponyville a better place!” added Sweetie Belle.

“To make the Milky Way a better galaxy!” said Silver, grinning.

“Harmony for All and stuff!” Scootaloo pitched in.

Twilight found that the little ones’ wide-eyed enthusiasm only served to make her smile even more genuine, and it almost caused her to forget the original reason she had been brought there. A quick look at the still-drying paint on Twenty-One’s metal casing reminded her of that.

“And you wanted to start by helping make the Changelings easier to identify?” Twilight asked.

The four fillies nodded, and Twilight took a few steps past them to appraise their work.

“Tell me something, girls...” She smiled warmly as she looked back at them over her shoulder. “Do you happen to have omni-hooves yet?”

“Well, yeah,” the Apple filly answered for the four of them, lifting her own hoof, which lit up in a now-familiar orange holographic interface. “Everypony does. But Pinkie put a buncha child blocks on all a’ ours. So we can’t do nothin’ fun with ‘em like get on the extranet and stuff.”

“Well then, I think I just might be able to assist you in your latest ‘crusade’...” The Madam President nodded before turning to Forty-Two, who had to actively prevent a cringe as he denoted the amused look in the mare’s eyes. “All we need are some stencils, some omni-gel, and a spray painting app...”

Forty-Two got the feeling he wasn’t going to like where this was going...




*Codex Update*
*New Ponyville : Mane Street -Updated




——————



Archived log: 42 of 50 - Day 60 A. E.

Present location: Administrative Level, New Ponyville

Status: annoyed




“I do not like this, Twi,” Forty-two stated in a clearly displeased tone, the illumination of his eyes narrowed almost to slits as he turned to again look over the now-drying, royal purple mark on either side of his carapace. “Not… one… bit.”

“Don’t be such a grouch, Forty-Two. It looks great on you!” Twilight smiled, taking some good-natured pleasure in her assistant’s discomfort. “And now we can tell you apart from the others.”

“Is it not enough that my optical array is already a different color?”

“It’s not like they painted you from crown to hoof,” Twilight offered in consolation. “It’s not even a picture of anything. It’s just your name.”

“It’s a fraction!”

“It’s a sign of endearment.”

“It’s graffiti.”

“Just keep it for a few days… Who knows? You might come around to liking it,” Twilight stated, causing the mech to hang his head, his tone sour and sounding distinctly organic.

“I would bet Legion doesn’t have to put up with this...” he muttered bitterly, having never imagined seeing a day when he would actually envy Commander Shepard’s lone geth crewmember.

“ARRRGGGHHH!”

Twilight turned, at first thinking that her assistant had perhaps taken to venting his frustration in a more organic manner than she thought possible before realizing that the sound had come from some distance away.

Twisting around, the Madam President took note of her blue-furred pegasus friend rising off the deck and darting forward in the air, a look of contempt visible on her face even from this distance.

“Rainbow Dash? What’s wrong?” Twilight called out, sounding somewhat concerned as she flagged down the pegasus, who grunted upon noticing her, but banked to bring herself around and stopped in midair a short distance from the unicorn.

Rainbow was dressed in the antique fashion of a human-designed bomber jacket that had become her standard attire, her barrel and chest exposed and a thin set of black leggings along her back legs. The jacket had two large slits cut into the back for her wings, a short layer of fluffy white cotton around the collar, and along the waist on either side was a familiar multicolored lightning bolt. It was almost exactly like an adult-sized variant of the sort of dress Scootaloo was now wearing, and it was clear where the impressionable filly had gotten her inspiration from.

Her wings flapping lazily as she held her position, the faint cyan glow of her biotic field encased Rainbow and kept her afloat in defiance of the Citadel’s artificial gravity as she vented her frustrations at her unicorn friend.

“What’s wrong? Apparently I’m wrong. I’m always wrong!” The pegasus animatedly threw her hooves around in the air before jabbing one leg in the direction of the Security Office. “I’m done! I can’t work with Mister Sensitive anymore! That bird-brain won’t let anything slide and is constantly riding me like he’s a stallion and I’m in sea--”

“Rainbow!” Twilight admonished the pegasus before she could finish that sentence, surprised at the crassness of her friend’s language while trying to force away the unpleasant imagery it brought up. “I thought you and Lt. Pyres were trying to get along.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve tried, Twilight. But it’s impossible! For two months he’s done nothing but tell me how to do my job, and I’ve had it up to here with him!” Rainbow raised a foreleg, planting her hoof right at the tips of her ears. “I can’t see why you even keep him around!”

“Because he’s good at what he does,” Twilight answered flatly, her own good mood souring as Rainbow’s irritation began to rub off on her. “And we need him here.”

“Oh, so you’re taking his side?”

“I’m not taking anypony’s side, Dash!” Twilight’s tone grew firmer, a warning sign that the pegasus recognized as she crossed her forelegs with an angry scowl.

“He is not a pony!”

“That’s not the point!”

“Alright! I get it! I guess I’m just not good enough for either of you!” Rainbow snarled, turning and darting several meters away before turning back over her shoulder. “I’m going on patrol! By all means, go tell your turian buddy so he can stop by and tell me that I’m not breathing correctly!”

Before the unicorn could respond, Rainbow Dash reared back and propelled herself forward, a distinct sound of a biotic surge filling the air before she sped over the edge of the level and down out of sight.

With a frustrated sigh, Twilight turned to Forty-Two, whose own complaints had fallen silent with the introduction of a new issue that had to be swiftly dealt with.

“Come on, Forty-Two.” Twilight grimaced, starting back towards the apartment she had hoped to spend the rest of the day relaxing in. A simple desire that had now been thrown aside. “Let’s go drop off these groceries, and then it looks like we’re back on the clock.”


——————



Archived log: 42 of 50 - Day 60 A. E.

Present location: New Ponyville Security Office, Administrative Level

Status: passive observation




There was no door to the C-Sec office, just an open archway; something that had originally struck Twilight as odd, considering the Administrative Building tended to put as many doors between the outside and the actual working offices of the district’s VIPs as possible.

The Security Building itself had not changed much in the few days that had passed since Twilight’s last weekly security briefing, although she never quite got over the dichotomy of the office. On one side, immediately apparent as she and Forty-Two entered, was a spartan, undecorated wall with a plain-looking desk facing the doorway. Behind that desk, his six fingers flying over a holographic keyboard at a frenzied pace, sat the turian she had been expecting. However, next to his computer sat a surprising new addition to the turian’s workspace: a basket filled with what looked like various pastries and baked goods, accompanied by a small card that bore the stylized sun logo of Celestial Delights.

Holding back for a moment to be recognized as the turian continued his fervent typing, Twilight took a look to the left, taking in the side of the office hidden from public view, where Rainbow’s workstation was located. Rather than a chair, a chaise lounge more suited to a pony’s shape took up most of the space, and on the desktop itself, over a dozen thin datapads were strewn about, indicating that the pegasus had remained busy, but disorganized. Also unlike Pyres’, there were several small objects decorating its surface next to the desk terminal, chiefly among them being a couple of framed holographic image displays. Though she couldn’t see them from this angle, the Madam President already knew what they showed.

They were a portrait of herself and the other Directors, taken several weeks ago during the Grand Opening of New Ponyville, and a picture of Rainbow and Scootaloo together, grinning widely as they showed off their matching attire. Next to the photos was a small metal trinket: a six inch-long brass model of the Normandy SR-2, sent to Rainbow courtesy of the very first friend she had made outside of the Equestria Simulation.

“Madam President.” Pyres nodded, his tone pleasant, but not looking up from his screen as he brought her attention back to the present. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh…” Twilight paused, noticing that the turian still wasn’t looking at her, his focus squarely on the holographic monitor in front of him. The unicorn grimaced, shifting her body language to a more aggressive stance as she approached the turian’s desk. “Well, absolutely nothing until I can get your full attention.”

At this, Pyres ceased his typing and turned to take note of her, blinking for a moment as his mandibles twitched.

“...Fair enough.” The turian officer sighed, pressing one last button as his console emitted a ping. “Just catching up on some reports; nothing too important.”

Twilight was surprised by the turian’s upbeat-sounding tone as he folded his hands together, but not ungrateful as she let go of a huff. She had half-expected Pyres to begin ranting about “that pony” as soon as she had walked in, so the thought that perhaps they could discuss this like civil beings was a very welcome surprise.

“I was hoping to talk to you about the Director,” Twilight started, hoping that the amicable atmosphere could be maintained. “I ran into her a few minutes ago, and she seemed... upset.”

“Yes.” Pyres nodded in agreement.

A bit annoyed by the lack of elaboration, Twilight decided to try prying more directly. “I was hoping maybe you could tell me why.”

“She doesn’t take criticism well,” the turian explained, standing up and stretching. “That pony’s fuse has gotten shorter and shorter every day. It’s gotten to the point where any wayward comment is enough to set her on the defensive. To her, everything I say comes out as an insult.”

“You’re supposed to be giving her lessons in C-Sec protocols, not pointing out how wrong she is about every decision she makes.”

“From where I’m standing, there isn’t much of a difference,” Pyres put it bluntly with a hint of disappointment. “It was going pretty smoothly for a while after the last time you talked to her, but after I got done giving her the basic lessons, she started tuning me out. Said she ‘doesn’t have time for the formal stuff.’ But I can see the real reason. She just doesn’t like me. Hasn’t ever since the day we met.”

“Hmph... I wonder why that is...” Twilight muttered sarcastically, just barely loud enough for him to hear. “Still, would it really hurt to be a little nicer to her?” she suggested.

“You didn’t ask me to be nice. You asked me to teach her how to do her job properly, and I can’t do that if she doesn’t want to listen to me.” Pyres cast his arm out, motioning to the clutter of datapads on Rainbow’s workstation. “Instead of accepting what I have to say, she thinks she can get by reading up on the rent-a-cop garbage put out by Elanus Risk Control and other ‘security’ firms, like she’s studying for some kind of test or something. This morning I tried to explain the ‘issues’ of learning security literally by the book and… well… let’s just say that pony has a set of lungs on her that would have made my old Drill Sergeant proud.”

“I… see.” Twilight nodded, cringing internally. “Well, at least you seem to be taking it in stride.”

“Oh, she was annoying as all hell at first.” Pyres shook his head, chuckling. “You see recruits like that sometimes, both in C-Sec and in the Palaven Colonial Military. Hotshots who think they know it all; who think they’re the hero in their own personal action-vid. Half of the time, they get the sense kicked into them when they realize that the real world doesn’t forgive stupidity.”

“...And the other half of the time?”

“They get themselves killed. Simple as that.”

Twilight couldn’t mask the gulp she had at the thought, her vivid imagination suddenly playing a horrific image of Rainbow Dash, charging at full speed into a squad of armed thugs… with a nightmarish result.

“That being said... I really do hope she wises up,” Pyres continued. “She’s green as grass, no pun intended, but I can’t deny she has potential.”

“Really?” Twilight found herself surprised yet again. “After all that, you’re still willing to put up with her?”

“Professionally we have… issues. But I have nothing against her personally. In fact, I admire her dedication. That being said, if she acts like an idiot, I’m going to tell her so to her face. If she wants to be taken seriously, then I’m not going to coddle her.” The brusque turian crossed his arms together, ready to make his final point. “And if she can just learn not to let her feelings get in the way of her judgment, maybe, just maybe, she’ll live to see the day when she gets the sense kicked into her.”

Twilight was silent for a moment, absorbing his words and trying to think of a rebuttal where her friend was concerned. In this case, however, she saw no choice but to defer to the turian who knew more about what he was saying than she herself could claim to.

“Thank you, Lieutenant... I think I understand. I’ll see if I can talk to her about this,” the unicorn started, intending for that to be the final say in the matter. She paused, though, when her eyes once again fell on the basket sitting on Pyres’ desk. “By the way... I’m sorry, but I just have to ask. What’s with the basket?”

“It was a... present from the two ponies who own the bakery down on Level Two,” the turian huffed, following her eyes. “The card said it was to thank me for all my hard work on behalf of the shop owners.”

“Awww, that was sweet of them.” Twilight smiled warmly at the thought.

“Honestly? I’m getting mixed signals here.” Pyres shook his head with some amusement. “I’m not sure what to make of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, sending your local security officer a basket full of baked goods is all very quaint. It’s just a little difficult to figure out what to do when he can’t actually eat any of them.”

“Oh…? Ooooohh…” Twilight tilted her head in confusion for a moment before she caught on to the meaning of Pyres’ statement. She suddenly remembered that the Turians were a species biologically based on dextro amino-acids, unlike most of the galaxy (her own kind included) who were levo amino. In short, what was a tasty treat for a pony, human, or asari, might as well have been a sweet smelling, edible grenade to a turian. “It’s the thought that counts... right?”

“Sure… assuming they were just unaware of that fact.” Pyres shrugged, keeping a straight face. (Or at least, she thought so. Turians were hard for her to get a read on). “Either that, or they were intending to put me in the hospital. But in this case, I think I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.”

“That would be appreciated.” Twilight grinned, back-stepping away from the officer’s desk. “In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do about Rainbow; get her to listen to reason.”

“Yeah, good luck with that. I’ll be here, not holding my breath.”

With that, Twilight turned to leave the Security Office, trying to hide a slightly smug grin as she held onto a private observation.

Sure, the Cakes had messed up and given him a basket full of poison, but she didn’t see him throwing it away, either.




 *Codex Update*
*Lieutenant Taxar Pyers - Updated 




——————



Archived log: 42 of 50 - Day 60 A. E.

Present location: M.P. Sparkle’s Apartment, New Ponyville

Status: idle




Even though one could not tell from the lighting of the general area, as the Wards were always cast in the bright glow from the Serpent Nebula, the relative quiet of New Ponyville at the present was evidence enough that it was now the seventeenth hour of the solar day. By now, the Equestrians’ business interests had (for the most part) entered what had been designated as the district’s “dim cycle,” and had closed their doors for the evening. It was an aesthetic choice made out of necessity rather than preference that New Ponyville hold a general hours of operation schedule, which, thankfully, most of the Citadel’s other residents could understand. After all, given their limited resources, they couldn’t be expected to keep pace with the “station that never sleeps” attitude of the other Wards.

And Forty-Two, for one, was grateful for the calm.

The Madam President had at last been given a chance to relax for the rest of her active “day cycle” following her brief meeting with Lt. Pyres. The discussion with Director Dash over the issues that had arisen had been put off until the next day, when it was hoped that a good night’s sleep would serve to put Rainbow in a better mood for talking. Forty-Two doubted this would be the case, but there was no sense in rushing what was a relatively minor issue.

Aside from that, it had been a peaceful night in for the Madam President. She took the opportunity to fix herself some dinner with the groceries she had bought, and when that failed spectacularly, she had Forty-Two order something pre-made from the diner on Level Three instead. While Twilight’s executive skills had improved since becoming leader of the Herd, it was safe to say her cooking skills had not.

The rest of the night was spent watching a few interesting specials on the extranet, followed by the Madam President’s ultimate pastime: reading. Even outside of Equestria, Twilight still loved nothing more than time to herself with a nice, thick book, as evidenced by the steadily growing collection of real, physical literature adorning the shelves of her apartment.

And then, when she just couldn’t bear to keep her eyes open any longer, Twilight finally allowed herself to slip quietly beneath the covers of her bed, falling into a deep, comforting sleep the likes of which she found becoming ever more frequent as the days went by. No interruptions, no nerve-wracking decisions, no incredible burdens to bear. New Ponyville was quiet.

Looking back on it now, Forty-Two should have predicted it was too good to last.

The Madam President had been asleep for little more than an hour when Forty-Two received the first report from the New Ponyville Docks of a new arrival via public transport shuttle. This hadn’t exactly been an unusual occurrence since the grand opening, despite the time. There were always a few visitors whose schedules were a polar opposite to New Ponyville’s and were unaware that, unlike most districts, there was a set timeframe of operation. These people were often asked to return in the morning, or informed of what establishments were still catering to customers regardless of the late hour.

And like the many other drone reports issued, Forty-Two gave this one a customary examination in order to keep himself preoccupied during the hours in which his services were not needed by his mistress. It served as a suitable distraction from other files which had a tendency to open unintentionally when he was otherwise idle.

On a whim, he pinged the mech that had sent him the report, taking note of the events currently unfolding as Four of Ten allowed him access to its running logs.




==Location: New Ponyville Docking Area; status: Observation Mode==

==19:32 Citadel Standard; logging unscheduled shuttle arrival==

==Vehicle identified: [Citadel Rapid Transit TW-3827]==

==Occupant emerging: [Registered Identity: Administrator Applejack (EoH)]==




That certainly grabbed Forty-Two’s attention, as he opened a video feed with the relatively nearby drone and observed the orange mare as she clambered awkwardly out of the transport that had clearly been built and intended for bipeds.

The only reason this was a notable occurrence was because Director Applejack was over seven hours late for her scheduled return from Huerta Memorial Hospital. Of course, there was never any cause for alarm, as the Director had made sure to deliver steady updates on her situation through the mech that accompanied her, having explained her tardiness with the excuse that personal matters had arisen that had delayed her return.

Everything had been in order with Nine of Twelve’s reports, and given that the Director of Labor had just as much of a right to some privacy as the Madam President herself, Forty-Two had seen no reason to pursue the issue.

Twilight’s Number One Assistant was just about to close the vid-link and resume his duties, when Applejack suddenly and unexpectedly made a beeline right towards Four of Ten.

“Hey, you. Stop recordin’. That’s an order,” Applejack told the drone sternly.

The last thing Forty-Two heard was a monotone “Administrator authority recognized,” before the feed cut out completely, followed by a harsh burst of static. A few seconds later, his wireless connection with Four of Ten was also likewise severed, leaving him blind and absolutely stunned by this sudden turn of events before he quickly recovered.

Acting fast, Forty-Two tried again to connect with the drone, but in spite of his hierarchical authority over his fellow changelings, he was denied access this time around. The direct verbal command of an organic administrator was simply beyond his ability to override. Scrambling for information, the mech attempted to contact Six of Ten, Four of Ten’s “series sibling” and the only other changeling that had been assigned to watch over the docks, only to be met with a similar result.

Finally, (and Forty-Two doubted he would get anywhere this time), he wirelessly pinged Nine of Twelve, the mech that was currently charged with escorting the Director. As he expected, and much to his frustration, he was met with the same message given by both Four and Six.




==Access Denied; authority: EoH==




It took approximately three-point-seven seconds for Forty-Two to puzzle over why the Director would possibly want to disable these three mechs’ surveillance and monitoring protocols before he decided to change tactics, and opened a connection with another unit that he knew would not yet have been compromised.


*Establishing data-link with Longhaul Series - 17 of 20*

...

*Data-link established*
*Relaying instructions*
*Unit complying*


Outside the Madam President’s apartment complex, all the way down on Level Two of New Ponyville, Seventeen of Twenty suddenly diverted from its patrol routine, having been given a new directive by Forty-Two. The mech stopped in mid-stride and instantly propelled itself upwards with its nanofiber wings, intent on locating the exact whereabouts of Director Applejack. With his birds-eye view of the entire district, Forty-Two did not need to wait long, and in less than a minute he was receiving real-time audio and visual updates on the Director... and her cargo.

After taking five seconds to confirm just what exactly he was looking at, Forty-Two released Seventeen of Twenty as his processors went into overdrive.




Extranet connection established

Accessing Huerta Memorial Hospital Archives

Alert: Security clearance required for access



*Initiating system bypass*
*Neutralizing safeguards*

...

*Safeguards neutralized*
*Tracing system root path*
*Decrypting information*

...



Welcome, Administrator Umbato

Fetching Patient Records: Hern, Patricia...

Fetching Daily Arrival/Departure Logs...

Fetching Archived Security Footage... (Error - Files not found)

Logging out




Forty-Two could scarcely believe what his own investigation was telling him... but what evidence he could piece together was nothing short of damning in its implications. One thing was for sure, though: The Madam President was not going to be happy about this.

Reluctantly, the mech opened a connection to his mistress’ omni-hoof, bypassing the communications software to open a direct line to the inside of her apartment.

“Twilight,” the mech spoke, his voice echoing and faintly muffled by the door behind him as he tried to rouse the sleeping leader of the Equestrians. “We have a situation.”

“Nuuuuhh...” the unicorn responded in a bleary, half-asleep mumble. “Not now, Spike... It’s late.... Go back to bed.”

Forty-Two’s servos seized up for a fraction of a second before he repeated himself. “Madam President, we have an emergency situation developing that requires your  immediate attention.”

“Unnghhhh...” Twilight could be heard rolling over in her bed, and though he had not activated the video-chat feature of the omni-hoof, he could visualize her rubbing her eyes with a foreleg and gazing half-lidded at the clock on her bedside. “Oh, for the love of Celestia... I just got to sleep. What is it, Forty-Two... and can’t it wait till morning?”

“No, Madam President,” the mech stated with a cold certainty. “I’m afraid that it can’t.”




*Codex Update* 
*Technology: Changeling Drones - Updated 





——————


“Come on, open up... It’s me, ya danged contraption!” said the stetson-wearing Director of Labor as she approached the doorway of the Sweet Apple-cations Administration Office, located inside the main government complex on New Ponyville’s fourth level.

There was a brief moment of pause as the red hologram lock shifted to a less-obstructive green and the door slid open automatically, allowing access to the orange mare, as well as her burden. Hitched up to her back, in a fashion that resembled the kinds of wagons she used to pull on her old farm, was a load-bearing anti-gravity repulsor pallet she had “borrowed” from the docks. Its miniature mass effect generator had allowed her to pull it all the way up the stairs to the Administration Level swiftly, silently, and with minimal jostling, which was especially important considering what lay beneath the opaque plastic covering layered on top.

“Well, it’s about time...” The on-edge mare shook her head while she started to unhitch herself, a simple press of the hoof unbuckling the straps fastening the cargo pallet. Her brow slick with sweat, she then looked behind her and made a “this way” motion with her head, before entering her office, followed by the hovering pallet as it was pushed from behind by a changeling drone. As soon as both cargo and drone were beyond the threshold of the door, it smoothly slid closed behind them.

Less than a minute later, the door opened again with a soft tone, and Applejack once more passed through it, this time using her foreleg to reach up and wipe her hat over her forehead with an expression of relief.

“Whew... Finally safe...” she breathed out in a tired, but satisfied, sigh. After far too long, they had made it back to New Ponyville safe and sound. Now came the part of figuring out what to do--

“Safe from what, exactly?”

Applejack’s heart jumped into her throat just as she was replacing her hat atop her head, and her hooves stopped right in their tracks. In an instant, her eyes snapped forward to realize that, parked right outside her office door, was none other than her best friend and leader of the Equestrian Herd, Twilight Sparkle. Standing at attention next to her was one of the changeling drones, recognizable as Twilight’s assistant by its glowing green eyes that somehow, oddly, seemed as though they were glaring at her.

As for her friend, she had obviously not had time to make herself presentable, as she was currently furclad, sporting a fair amount of unruly bedmane, and had great big purple bags under her eyes. And one thing that was certain in Applejack’s mind at that instant was the fact that her friend did not look happy at all.

“Twi!?” The former farm-pony drew back in utter shock, somewhat disturbed by the scowl that painted her best friend’s features and feeling a cold sweat break out down the back of her neck. “Why’re ya... H-how did... Ah mean, safe... as in s-safe back in New Ponyville! Yup! Glad ta be back home!”

Feeling a jolt run down her spine, Applejack immediately took a step forward, out of the door’s sensor range, allowing it to snap closed along with the red hologram in place to lock it. All the while, she flashed Twilight what she hoped beyond all hope looked like an innocent smile, but judging by the way her friend’s expression did not shift in the slightest, she doubted it looked very genuine.

Desperate for a solution to present itself, she tried changing the subject.

“So, uh... Pretty late, ain’t it? Aren’t you, uh, supposed to be sleepin’? Heheh... heh...”

“I was,” Twilight huffed, shaking her head with no small amount of annoyance as she got up on all four hooves. For a moment, the unicorn took her eyes off Applejack to shoot a withering glare at her mech, which made no attempt to acknowledge the action. “But then somepony thought it was worth getting me up to ask you why you were running so late.”

“Oh, uhhh... well...” Applejack hesitated, looking every which way around the hall except directly at the Madam President. “Y’all know how it is... Some things came up at the hospital... then it took us awhile ta get a cab back ta New Ponyville... No big deal.”

“I didn’t say it was.” Twilight nodded, her expression growing more concerned as she returned her full attention to the Director, who gulped subconsciously. “Although... I’ll admit I was curious as to why Forty-Two claims that you’ve been disabling the security feeds of every changeling from here to the docks.”

“R-right... About that... Ah was just... u-uhhh...” Applejack’s eyes shifted about, glancing back towards the door before she caught herself, and forced her gaze to stay straight ahead. Inside her head, it felt like a wave of ice was freezing up the contents of her mind and preventing her from squeezing out a single convincing argument that would satisfy her friend.

“Applejack...” Twilight’s eyes narrowed on the pony, who had started to visibly tremble where she stood. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Goin’ on? Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on! Just... ya know... Ah’m kinda tired after everythin’ that’s happened today,” Applejack said quickly, raising a hoof to her snout and letting out a large, exaggerated, thoroughly unconvincing yawn. “Ah was just about ta go get some shut-eye. Y’all should too. Boy, yessiree am Ah tired. Guess Ah’ll see ya in the mornin’, Twi. G’night!”

Applejack then attempted to step swiftly past Twilight’s side, hoping to get away before the situation got any more precipitous, but the Madam President wasn’t going to let that happen. The unicorn was hardly in any mood for games, and had decided to stop entertaining this pitiable charade that had gone on long enough.

“What are you hiding in your office, Applejack?” Twilight asked accusingly, stepping to the side in order to block the earth mare’s path.

“Ah’m not hidin’ nothin’!” the orange pony said in a slightly strained voice, and a little too quickly to convey any sense of honesty. In response, Twilight stared long and hard into her friend’s eyes, unable to mask the disappointment on her face, and right then and there, Applejack knew the jig was up. She was the galaxy’s worst liar, and she knew it.

With a disappointed sigh, Twilight broke eye contact as her shoulders slumped.

“Forty-Two, open the door.”

“Complying.” Forty-Two’s antennae blinked rhythmically for a few seconds before the hologram on the door gave off an electronic buzz as it turned a light green. “Done.”

Wasting no time on ceremony, Twilight brushed past a clearly flustered Applejack and stepped right up to the office.

“Twilight, wait! Ah can explain! It’s not what it looks like!” Applejack cried out, reaching a hoof after Twilight, but her plea was too late. The door was open, revealing the inside for all to see.

There was a moment of utter silence, and as Twilight paused mid-step, a mix of shock and disbelief playing out across her muzzle, it looked as if time itself had stopped. Well, almost, as the only movement from inside the office came from the oblivious changeling drone currently maneuvering the unconscious form of Doctor Patricia Hern, dressed in nothing but a plain green hospital gown, onto the long chaise lounge set up along the wall of the office.

For Twilight, no introduction was necessary, as she was already quite familiar with the brown-haired human female: A Cerberus archeologist who had, along with Commander Shepard, helped her species escape from the Equestria Facility. Also clear to her was the fact that the woman was still obviously suffering from the condition she’d been placed in upon being released from the virtual world, indicating that she had certainly not recovered enough to have come along of her own free will.

She’d hoped that Forty-Two was wrong. That the evidence he’d presented to her was circumstantial at best. That one of her most trusted friends couldn’t possibly have gone behind her back to do something like this. But as she stared on, she couldn’t deny it any longer, and she turned to face Applejack with a barely restrained outrage in her features.

“Then tell me what it looks like, Applejack...” she said, managing just barely to not grit her teeth together as she cast a hoof at Patricia’s limp form. “Because it looks to me like you’ve abducted a comatose patient from the hospital, and are trying to hide her away in your office!”

“Twilight, Ah...”

“I didn’t want to believe it!”  Twilight shouted, the expression on her face making Applejack shift back as she was reminded of the last time her friend had become incensed enough to literally burst into flames. This time however, the event didn’t feel anywhere near as amusing as that one day in Equestria, such a long time ago.

“‘Oh, no,’ I said. ‘There has to be some mistake,’ I said. ‘Applejack is the most trustworthy and dependable pony I know! There’s no way she could do something like... like’...” Twilight let out a grunt of frustration, and if actual steam had billowed from her nostrils just then, Applejack wouldn’t have batted an eye. “What were you thinking!?”

“I was--”

“Do you even realize what you’ve done!? What this could mean for you, for us, for New Ponyville!? What could’ve possibly possessed you to do something like this!?”

“Fer Celestia’s sake, girl! Wouldja just calm the buck down an’ lemme explain, already!?” Applejack found her own voice; a stubborn one that suddenly remembered that she wasn’t going to be treated like a foal in need of a scolding. “Ah had no choice! Ah had ta get ‘er outta there fer ‘er own safety! She was in danger!”

Twilight panted heavily for a moment, seeming to realize that she had lost her temper to a degree that she hadn’t even realized existed. Her heart hammering, she felt a shudder run through her body as she breathed in, and she forced her eyes shut until she could see past the haze that had threatened to cloud her vision.

“...Okay... I’m listening...” Twilight tried to swallow a bitter bile that had built up in her throat. “Start at the beginning... and tell me the whole truth.”

The Director of Labor took a few deep breaths through her nose, psyching herself up as Forty-Two of Fifty took the liberty of joining his mistress inside the office. For a while, nothing was said until Applejack finally worked up the guts to continue.

“As you know... Ah went ta the hospital this mornin’ ta visit Patch, like Ah do every week. This time, though, Ah happened to have a little... ‘run-in’ with ‘er family,” Applejack explained, reaching up to pull her hat off her head and run a hoof through her mane. “Now, her husband Joshua’s already made it clear that he don’t like us all that much...”

“I know. We’ve met.” Twilight nodded, still trying to come down from her initial, dam-bursting indignation upon seeing for herself that Forty-Two’s accusations were completely accurate. “Not the most pleasant human I’ve ever encountered, but I can understand why he blames us for his wife’s condition.”

“That wasn’t our fault an’ you know it!” Applejack stomped a hoof decisively, clearly displeased with Twilight’s phrasing. “It was Celestia who--”

“I know, AJ... I was there.” Twilight shook her head, feeling that aggression start to build again before taking another breath. “So, what happened next?”

“Well, her husband had this other human with him, called himself ‘Dr. Janton’ and said he was some sorta human brain specialist doctor type. Lotsa big fancy words Ah didn’t really get... But from what Ah could gather, he wants ta take Patch ta some kind a’ ‘special facility’ on Earth for treatment.”

“Hold on... I thought Patricia’s condition was too uncertain to risk interstellar travel,” Twilight couldn’t help but point out, her curiosity briefly getting the better of her.

“Ah know! That’s what Ah said!” Applejack agreed heartily. “But a’ course, Joshua says he don’t trust no ‘alien’ doctors to do what’s right fer his wife. Honestly... Ah don’t know what Patch sees in that insensitive pile a’--”

“Getting off topic, AJ,” the unicorn warned her.

“Right... sorry.” The earth mare gave an apologetic smile before clearing her throat. “Anyways... Janton had this legal paper deal that said Josh was appointin’ him as primary health-care provider, an’ that meant it didn’t matter what the docs at Huerta thought. He was gonna have ‘er moved back ta Earth first thing tomorrow mornin’!”

“Okay, I think I see where this is going...” Twilight raised a hoof to rub the bridge of her snout. “Applejack, I know you and Patricia were close friends, and I understand why you care about what happens to her. But regardless of that, and regardless of your personal feelings about Joshua, you should have at least trusted the doctors to know what they were doing. What you did was simply irr--”

“Twi!” Applejack stomped her hoof to snap her friend out of her admonishing. “Dr. Janton’s a fake!”

At this, Twilight hesitated. She knew that tone... indignation mixed with a degree of absolute certainty.

“...What do you mean?”

“After they left, Number Nine over there told me that the snake was tryin’ ta put a virus or somethin’ on mah omni-hoof when we was talkin’!” Applejack explained, pointing a hoof at the mech that had accompanied her, now standing idly by next to the unconscious doctor. As for her claim, Twilight looked back at her own mech for verification.

“Verifying...” Forty-Two chirped. “Confirmed. Record indicates Unit Nine of Twelve detected and destroyed the offending program before infection could occur.”

“Yeah, that’s right...” Applejack nodded affirmatively. “That man already gave me a bad feelin’, and this only confirmed it. So Ah went ta ask Becky ta--”

“Wait, who’s ‘Becky’’?” Twilight raised a hoof her interrupt, her head swimming with details as her usually sharp information retention was hampered by her body’s rather intent demands to sleep.

“One a’ mah friends over at Huerta; she’s a receptionist. Anyways, Ah asked Becky ta look into it. Get this: She couldn’t find any records of Janton’s medical practice. Not on the Citadel or in the Alliance. All she could find was an old medical licence, records of his transcripts, and a bunch a’ fast-tracked paperwork from the Human Embassy ta get the hospital’s objections overturned.”

“Soooo...?” Twilight tried to connect the dots and found herself drawing a blank.

“So... somethin’s wrong!” Applejack declared as if it were the most obvious thing in the galaxy. “Ah could feel it in mah gut! They were just gonna let ‘er get taken away to Celestia-knows-where without liftin’ a hoof ta stop ‘em! Ah had ta do somethin’!”

“Applejack...” Twilight shook her head, once more feeling the need to raise her voice. “If you had suspicions, you could have at least told somepony! The last thing you should have done was take matters into your own hooves like this based on a hunch!”

“Ah’m just tryin’ ta keep a friend a’ mine safe! Same as Ah would do fer anypony!”

“You don’t understand, AJ!” Twilight brought her hoof to her face, ignoring the pain as the slightly harder outer edge of her hoof impacted the bridge of her nose. “It doesn’t matter what your intentions were! You committed a crime!”

“Yer overreactin’, Twi,” Applejack stated calmly. “Ah’m just tryin’ ta keep ‘er safe till the hospital comes to its senses and--”

“It isn’t that simple! Nothing about this is okay!” Twilight scolded, drawing a stunned look from the earth pony. “This isn’t like Equestria where everything was forgiven with a heartfelt apology and a lesson in friendship! This is... this is...”

The unicorn trailed off, uncertain how to continue before Forty-Two clarified for her.

“Kidnapping in the second degree: Categorized as a Class-A felony by Citadel Penal Code. Possible penalties if convicted include but are not limited to: Minimum five galactic standard years incarceration, fines in excess of one hundred thousand credits, and a minimum of ten galactic standard years probation.”

Applejack’s mouth was agape, her pupils shrunk down to pinpricks and her hat suddenly leaning awkwardly on her head at the recitation of legal facts.

“Still think I’m overreacting?” Twilight asked blankly, her eyes narrowed as the severity of the situation sunk in for her friend.

“Ah’m... jus’ tryin’ ta help ‘er...” Applejack lowered her head, kicking a hoof along the floor like a scolded filly as the implications ran around in her head. “She helped save us all back in Canterlot. What happened ta her happened on account a’ us. We owe ‘er... If that quack takes ‘er away, there’s no tellin’ what’ll happen ta her.”

“This is not going to go unnoticed.” Twilight shook her head, her anger cooling and replaced by a legitimate concern for her admittedly well-intentioned friend. “The hospital will realize she’s gone soon, if they haven’t already. It won’t take them long to piece together what happened and come here looking for her!”

“W-well maybe they won’t. Ah mean, Ah had Nine get inta the hospital’s computers ta make sure no cameras saw us... And Ah’m positive nopony noticed she was with us...”

“Obstruction of justice: Knowingly tampering with evidence with clear criminal intent,” Forty-Two spoke up. “Penalties include incarceration for no more than twenty galactic standard years. Fines and other penalties may also be levied.”  

Applejack’s breathing started to become strained and it looked like her legs were about to give way as Twilight turned to the mech with a harsh expression.

“Forty-Two, stop. I think she gets the idea.”

“Ah... Ah was... just tryin’ ta...” Applejack seemed close to passing out, reaching up and pulling the hat off her head as she started to truly comprehend just how much trouble she had made for herself.  “Okay... okay... Maybe... if we just keep this a secret, we... we can think a’ somethin’, right...? Just until she gets better... then everythin’ll be okay...”

“Once the status of Dr. Hern has been established, C-Sec will undoubtedly investigate New Ponyville. Statistical probability of discovery runs at eighty-seven percent likelihood... rounded down,” Forty-Two offered, his tone neutral despite the dour outlook of his announcement. “If I may make a suggestion: Offering to return Dr. Hern to the authorities would be the proper and legal way to respond to these events.”

“Ya mean just give her back over!? We can’t do that!” Applejack objected, to which the green-eyed drone responded curtly.

“A public condemnation of the act would also not go amiss and could perhaps avert a negative impact for the Herd overall.”

“Hey! Whose side‘re you on, anyways!? Applejack snarled at what she assumed was just a particularly uppity changeling drone. “Jus’ shut down already, would ya!?”

“Request denied,” Forty-Two chirped, drawing a surprised look from the earth pony.

“Since when can you disobey a direct order from one a’ yer ‘Administrators’?”

“Enough, both of you!” Twilight shouted, drawing the mech’s and the Director of Labor’s attentions. “We don’t need arguments, we need options! Look, before we do anything rash, maybe we should tell Lieutenant Pyres about--”

“Twi! No! If y’all tell the turian, Patch is a goner fer sure!” Applejack shook her head vigorously. “He’s C-Sec! He’ll haveta tell his superiors about what we did!”

“What we did? This is your mess AJ, not mine. And you seem to be forgetting that the reputation of the Herd is at stake here, and you’re willing to risk it all on account of some human woman you’ve only known for a couple of days!”

“But, Twi... Ah can’t just...” Applejack brought her hat, held in the grip of her hoof, up to her chest, a pleading look in her eyes. “...She’s family.”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and she resisted the urge to smack her hoof back into her face. Of course the former cowpony was willing to go to these lengths. After she had been dumped, lost and traumatized, into the Equestria Simulation, Applejack had been the one to take Doctor Hern... ‘Patch’... in. After all she had done to repay Applejack’s kindness, going so far as to risk her life and her body on the mare’s behalf, she’d been made an honorary member of the Apple Family.

And experience had shown: The apple-studded earth mare would walk through Tartarus itself to keep any member of her family safe.

Twilight groaned painfully as she tried to think her way out of this terrible situation.

Truth be told, she didn’t exactly have a great deal of emotional investment with Dr. Hern. She had only been to visit the Cerberus scientist at the Presidium hospital one time, and that was at Applejack’s request. And while she was indeed grateful and respected the sacrifice that the human woman had made, she just didn’t have the same “bond” that Applejack had developed with her over the days before Commander Shepard had arrived at her library.

But even so, did they have the right to decide what was best for her? After all, Applejack’s gut reaction was hardly a jarring accusation that would hold up in any legal system worth its salt. What if she was wrong, and this “Dr. Janton” was someone who could truly help Patricia recover? Was New Ponyville even equipped to provide her with the kind of care she'd been receiving at the hospital?

And even aside from Dr. Hern, there was a very good chance that her friend, the honest and dependable Applejack, would irreparably suffer some kind of consequence no matter what ended up happening. Twilight wasn’t sure if she could stomach throwing her friend to the timberwolves, but if it was a choice between the reputation of one pony, as opposed to that of the Herd itself, was it a choice she would be willing to make?

Twilight looked for a moment between the brightly illuminated, green eyes of her assistant and the pleading green eyes of her best friend.

This was not something that could wait until morning. It couldn’t even wait another five minutes. They needed a plan of action... and they needed it now.




 Log Entry: 42 of 50 - Day 60 A.E


Assets Aquired: N/A
Codex Update: New Ponyville: Mane Street, Lieutenant Taxar Pyers, Technology: Changeling Drones