//------------------------------// // The Spectacular Saddle Rager Issue 74: Of Love And Hate Part 1 // Story: The Power of Ponies // by Masterweaver //------------------------------// "Love is the fount of all emotion." In the middle of a forest, covered with leaves and overgrown with vines, rested a starcraft. It was not very large, as starcraft went, only about as big as a small house. It was also clear to the outside observer that it would not ever take to the stars again; one of the wings was split in two, and rootlets were already crawling through the holes torn in the hull. And yet, some blinking lights could be seen through the landing ramp, and there was a distinct hum of foreign technology. Whisperwind approached without fear. She had been here many times before, after all. "Joy and Sorrow, Fear and Disgust, Surprise and Anger... all of these and their myriad mixes have their roots dipped in the common pool of love. "Shimar?" The turquoise pegasus trotted up the ramp, looking into a large room lit by bright but flickering tubes. "Are you here?" She dropped her saddlebags by the door, her eyes flicking across the various terminals. The flight controls in the front had been rewired to form an ad hoc detection system, and various capsules of bubbling liquid were hooked up to a monitor on the wall to her left. "So, my young friend, I encourage you to love. If you know the root of emotion, you will better know how to control your own." "Ah, Whisperwind!" A butterfly-like creature waved from the right side of the vessel, plucking up a small dish from the table in front of him and sliding it into a large machine behind him. "Do come in, I was just finishing lunch." His rose-colored wings buzzed as he glided over and nestled in the pegasus's similarly colored mane. "Shimaaaar!" Whisperwind shook her head with a giggle. "Get out of there!" "As you wish, my dear." The butterfly flitted out, hovering over to the capsules on the wall. "Shame, though, it is really comfortable. Tell me, how was your day?" "Oh my gosh, it was amazing! Claypot, well..." The pegasus grinned widely. "Claypot asked me out on a real, actual date this weekend!" "That's the unicorn who knows about your secret identity, isn't it?(1)" "Yeah, he is..." She sighed, slipping into the chair next to the table. "He's just so... nice!" "Mmm." Shimar turned his bulbous green eyes toward her. "I can tell he makes you glow with happiness." Whisperwind let out an embarrassed squeak, glancing at the pale blue light coming from her coat. "Oh! Sorry, sorry, I had it under control earlier--" "Ah, don't fret dear. It's good to see you so happy, after all that you've been through." Shimar turned back to the capsules, his mouthparts arranging into a small smile. "I remember how it was with Clienreas, we were absolutely inseparable. She was a treasure, saw beauty in everything and had enough patiance to bring out the best in even the worst of people." His smile turned into a sly smirk. "And the way her abdomen would wriggle when we went to bed, oh my--" "Sh-Shimar!" Whisperwind shouted with a furious blush. "I don't need to know how your wife looked when you slept together!" "Oh, I'm sorry, I was just caught up in some old memories. Long... enjoyable... intense memories, but old enough I suppose..." Whisperwind shuddered, then let out a little whine. "Awwww... Shimar, you're making me slime up!" She wiped some translucent mucus off her coat with disgust. "You know that it's a self-feeding loop..." "I also know you have to learn not to let other people manipulate your emotions." The butterfly flitted over to the table, landing across from her. "If someone were to spring this on you while you were out and about, you could easily end up causing a problematic situation. We don't want a repeat of the time the Viper Gang attacked the bank(2), do we?" "That wasn't my fault. I've been trying to control my emotions ever since I was infused, Shimar!" Whisperwind bit her lip. "I've gotten a lot better at it too, it's just I... I was relaxed here." "Because you trust me." Shimar sighed. "I suppose I can't really try to dissuade that. Just... I don't want you to stop having emotions, but the more turbulent and random they are the more your powers will randomly trigger. You have to learn to make the transition smoothly, to not let your feelings spike out of control--" Suddenly, the console at the front of the starcraft began beeping. "What in the dickens...?" Shimar fluttered over to the screen. "I've never heard that alarm," Whisperwind commented, standing up. "What does it mean?" The butterfly tapped some buttons. "...No. No, that can't be right!" "Shimar? What's going on?" "How could--? Whisperwind!" Shimar spun around. "You've got to get out of here now! Go back to--" The entire room rocked suddenly, small loose objects flying around as Whisperwind lost her balance. Her eyes went wide as her pupils turned white, the world seeming to slow for a moment. That noise... it's coming from above! Metal claws had pierced the roof and were already tearing large gashes in it, letting rays of light into the room. And through the gashes, a very familar set of eight optics glowed down at her. She gasped. "X-Term N8!" And in that instant time resumed its normal speed. With reflexes trained from months of vigilantism, Whisperwind rolled to the front of the craft, swept Shimar into her mane, and flapped her wings in a powerful thrust out of the vessel. She glanced over her shoulder for a brief second as she flew into the trees. She'd seen the robot before, of course. It hounded her with cold, unerring drive, able to shrug off even her enraged pounding with its thick blue armor. To the eyes of an equestrian, X-Term N8 would appear to be a bipedal, tailless sabre-toothed tiger at first, but there would be oddities even then: a great sparking sphere was caged in open air where the belly should have been. The entire right arm was a complicated, multi-purpose ranged weapon of some sort, one that rarely missed its target. Where there should have been a mouth was instead a paltry collection of pores and speakers, shielded by two thick triangles of metal. And seven small optics were slotted into the position of the left eye, paired with one large heartless disc that focused entirely on her. X-Term N8 bounded off the roof of the vessel, his optics never wavering as he rose his weapon arm.