A Kingdom Divided

by Samey90

19. Apple Bloom

Every class struggle is a political struggle.
Karl Marx

---

Even though their room was warm, Scootaloo felt the chill running down her spine. She gave Apple Bloom a shocked look. The filly had just told her about how Sweetie Belle had almost died on her hooves, and how they were rescued from the fire by Discord.

“And I thought our journey was awful…” Scootaloo said. For a moment they sat in silence, interrupted only by humming of some mechanisms inside of Sweetie Belle. Dinky was sleeping in her room, located next to Apple Bloom’s. The filly was checking on her from time to time, despite Wicked Wrench’s occasional remarks about being overprotective.

“Give ‘er a break, AB. Ya’re not ‘er mom…”

“But Derpy told me to take care of her, and she’ll kill me when she finds out that Dinky learned all these words from ya…”

“Are they constantly like that?” Scootaloo asked Sweetie Belle.

“Well, not constantly. Ruling out the time when they eat, sleep or they’re just not interacting with each other, I’d assume that they’re like that for 21.07% of the time, which makes a bit over 5 hours a day.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. There were times where she could almost see the past Sweetie Belle beneath the metal casing. For the most of the time, however, she was… well, Scootaloo wasn’t exactly sure what she was.

Apple Bloom and Wicked Wrench stopped arguing, though they were still shooting nasty glares at one another.

“So, where was Ah?”

“Best part,” Wrench replied, “Da one where ya meet us…”

***

“I useta work in a factory in Manehattan.” Scrap Yard said. “Ya know, it was horrorshow at first, when we took over and locked dat bratchny who was our boss in da basement. But den bat ponies came and told us dat we’ll be needed on the front, repairing tanks and cannons... So I ran away when I had a chance. Ya know, I’m not good with pooshkas. When they gave me Pepeshka, I immediately broke da firing pin.”

“And what about Wrench?” Apple Bloom asked. Her new companions seemed weird at first, but they cheered up when they found out that Sweetie, despite her rather small frame, was incredibly strong. She was now helping the donkey pull the cart full of scrap metal. Wicked Wrench was walking in front of them, the rusty gun hanging from her back.

“Well, Wrench is a different story. She’s a prestoopnik.” Seeing that Apple Bloom didn’t understand, he explained. “A criminal. Ya know, I met her some time before the war, we had some in-out-in-out, but when da war started, she was in jail.”

“Oh, gimme a break…” Wrench rolled her eyes. “Dat was a fail-safe plan…”

“Yeah, right. Crastin’ bits from some old bugaty baboochka, who immediately called the millicents? Yeah, dat’s a fail-safe plan…”

“I was fucking hungry, okay? Ya at least had a job.”

“See? Too proud to beg. Or to ask for help.”

Wicked Wrench grunted. Apple Bloom said nothing. For most of her life she had everything. Hunger was never an issue, she could hardly imagine a situation when she’d have to rob somepony to survive. But seeing the pony in front of her – still a filly, only two years older than Apple Bloom – extremely skinny, with her coat permanently covered in engine grease, she couldn’t help but shudder.

“Anyway, when the whole town went bonkers, I went to jail and freed her. Nopony gave a fuck, ya know, anypony who was good with machines was needed, prestoopnik or not. Then our company went to Ponyville, but we went AWOL after maybe two days…”

“And how did you meet Firefly?” Sweetie Belle asked. Scrap Yard looked at her unsurely. He still felt a bit uncanny because of her unusual appearance.

“Well, first we met oth’r scavengers. They told us about a pony who collects scrap metal and sells it to help poor ponies, and is not connected to da revolution. Ya know, when da bat ponies appeared, I had enough of dat. Wrench, what did ya tell ‘em first?”

“Ya mean ‘dat a biggest pile of fuckin’ horseapples I ev’r heard ‘bout’?” Wicked Wrench snickered.

“Yeah, dat. So, as ya c’n see, we had a little bitva ov’r dat, but we finally joined ‘em.”

“Dey had food.” Wrench explained.

“Ya only think ‘bout pishcha…” Scrap Yard sighed. “And dat’s how me and Wrench went to Canterlot.”

“Wrench and I,” Sweetie Belle corrected. Scrap Yard shot her a nasty glare.

“So, where exactly did ya get this robotic devotchka?” he asked Apple Bloom.

“Her name is Sweetie Belle and she’s mah friend,” Apple Bloom replied.

Scrap Yard thought for a moment, looking at Sweetie Belle.

“Was she always like dat?” he asked.

“Of course not!”

“Okay, I get it. Ya’re one of those ptitsas who don’t like to govoreet about themselves.”

Suddenly, Wrench stopped.

“Shut up, ya two,” she muttered, sitting on her haunches and taking her weapon – an old submachine gun with a drum magazine. She aimed it at the bushes in front of her.

“I told ya this Pepeshka doesn’t work. The firing pin’s broken and ya’ve no ammo.”

Wrench muttered something highly offensive. She caught the gun’s barrel with her hooves, ready to use it as a mace. She slowly leaned from behind the bushes and quickly hid back.

“Five guys,” she whispered, “A sentry.”

“Sun or Moon?”

“Moon. Yer kind.”

Scrap Yard smirked and smartened himself up. His uniform was far from the perfect state, but he had a plan.

“Sweetie, hide on the cart.” he said. “Wrench, gimme the pooshka.”

Armed, he went out of the bushes. The five donkeys raised their submachine guns – the same kind as their “pooshka”, but newer and cleaner. Seeing his uniform, they lowered them.

“Privyet, droogs,” Scrap Yard said. “Can ya tell me where are our forces? They sent me to gather the parts of a shot-down airship, but we got lost…”

“Yeah, got lost,” one of the donkeys said, eyeing Wicked Wrench and Apple Bloom. “Ya decided to have a short break with the ladies?”

“Ladies?” another one asked. “That little one doesn’t even have a cutie mark yet…”

“I found ‘em nearby.” Scrap Yard replied. “They’re refugees or somethin’.”

“Refugees, huh?” The first donkey looked at Apple Bloom closer. She knew nothing about insignia, but he seemed more important than the rest. “Poor, homeless sisters?”

He stared into her eyes, as if he was awaiting reply. Apple Bloom felt that it was some kind of test.

“We’re not sisters…” she muttered, “but we’re homeless…”

“Yeah, right. Ya look too well-fed to be homeless. Who are ya, kid? A lost daughter of some noble?”

“Oh, c’mon!” Wrench exclaimed, suddenly embracing Apple Bloom and patting her forehead. “Does she look like a noble? D’ya see a horn ‘ere, Captain?”

“Sergeant.” He corrected automatically.

“Nev’r mind. We’re poor earth ponies repressed by an unjust system! Dat’s why da whole war’s ‘bout, right? To make dis fuckin’ world a bett’r place to live for fillies like ‘er.”

“See?” Scrap Yard asked. “She’s not right in the gulliver. Clearly a trauma or somethin’.”

“Yeah… I guess so…” said the Sergeant. “But ya, soldier… What happened to yer gun?”

“I had a small bitva with Sun Army’s patrol and I ran outta ammo. Then, da firing pin broke. D’ya have a spare one?”

“I guess there are some in the camp.”

“Ya have a camp somewhere here, Sergeant?”

“Yes, soldier. While ya were gathering this trash and meeting the ladies, we captured Ponyville and now we’re advancing towards Canterlot.”

Apple Bloom cursed under her breath. Wrench gave her a cautionary look.

The donkeys got up and trotted to the camp. Scrap Yard stayed in the back and whispered:

“AB, play a poor filly. Wrench, play dumb, ya’re good at it.”

“Fuck yerself with a spanner.”

“I love ya too.”

They followed the group of donkeys to the camp. It was located on a small clearing near the road – several tents, a small group of bored earth ponies, and two bat ponies, apparently officers. In the middle of it stood a tank. The engine covering was removed – one of the ponies was looking inside with a worried expression.

“Where have you been?” One of the officers asked.

“We found a lost soldier, sir.” Sergeant explained, pointing at Scrap Yard. “He’s carrying the parts of an airship we lost three days ago.”

“He could’ve brought them to Ponyville. We don’t need this junk here.” Suddenly, the bat pony saw Apple Bloom and Wicked Wrench.

“Who are they?” he asked Scrap Yard.

“Civilians, sir. I found them wandering in the forest.”

“Yeah…” The officer looked at Wrench, wincing at the engine grease she was covered with. Apple Bloom suddenly noticed a patch of missing fur on her back – a side effect of carrying a submachine gun with a large and heavy drum magazine. It was obvious that she carried a gun more often than Scrap Yard. Fortunately, the officer didn’t notice that, instead focused on the mare’s cutie mark.

“Are you good with machines, civilian?” He asked. “Our tank broke down and none of my technicians can repair it.”

“I c’n check ‘t out,” Wrench replied.

“If she screws something up, you can shoot her.” The officer said to one of the earth ponies sitting next to the tank.

“That’d be a waste, sir…” he muttered, his eyes fixed on Wrench’s flank. She noticed it.

“If ya touch me, I’ll beat yer brain outta yer thick skull…” she whispered to him.

“And how about that filly?” The bat pony officer asked, looking at Apple Bloom.

“She’s bezoomy, sir,” Scrap Yard explained.

“She’s what?”

“She’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Trauma after the bombing, I think.”

“You’re not for thinking here, soldier. She’s not gonna slit our throats when we’re asleep, I suppose?”

“No way, sir. She’s calm, barely govoreet… I wanted to take ‘er to the field hospital.”

Apple Bloom froze, upon hearing the words “field hospital”. The events from two days ago were still fresh in her memory. Although her wounds were healed, any thought of Scootaloo was painful for her. She stared briefly at Sweetie Belle, lying on Scrap Yard’s cart and pretending to be a piece of scrap metal.

“There are no field hospitals here yet,” the bat pony said, “but she can stay here for a while.”

Apple Bloom sighed with relief. She preferred it that way – less occasions to talk meant less occasions to lie. She felt that Applejack would be proud of her.

The officer called one of his soldiers and ordered him to walk Apple Bloom to a tent. When she crawled inside, she saw that he stayed before the door, guarding her. She wasn’t sure whether the officer didn’t trust her or his soldiers. Probably both.

She thought of Sweetie Belle, who had to stay outside. She wasn’t sure if she felt cold; probably not, given the amount of heat her life-supporting mechanisms produced. Then she thought of Scootaloo, Applejack, Big Macintosh and the rest of ponies from Ponyville. What were they doing? Was Scootaloo alive or did she die when the bombs fell on them? Apple Bloom fell asleep with her friend’s image before her eyes.

When she woke up, the interior of the tent was dark. It surprised her – since the war started she got so used to the orange tint of permanent twilight, that she simply couldn’t imagine the celestial bodies move again. She looked around groggily and saw Wicked Wrench, her fur soaked with water, sitting next to her.

“Ya’d rath’r not go outside.” She said. “Da rain’s an ol’ Celly’s trick, ‘t seems. Also, anoth’r bat pony flew ‘ere while ya were asleep, angry like a butch’r. Two koniks tried to shoot ‘im before goin’ AWOL.”

“Koniks? Who are they?”

“Guys from Ponyland. They oft’n serve as engineers ‘n Moon Army.”

Apple Bloom nodded.

Wrench continued, “Anyway, it’s all fuck’d up. Dat tank I tried t’ repair needs new valves and cylinders. Like, all of ‘em. Some fuck’r kept ignorin’ da timin’ belt an’ finally manure hit da fan. An’ it doesn’t matt’r anymore, it can’t move in dat rain anyway.”

Apple Bloom winced slightly. She remembered her constant bickering with Scootaloo over the pegasus filly’s swearing. Applejack had taught her to not curse, but Wrench was rather liberal with that.

She noticed Apple Bloom’s expression. “Sorry, but ya know how ‘t is… Usually I calm down when I repair somethin’, but when I see engin’s mishandled like dat…”

“It’s okay.” Apple Bloom looked at the roof of the tent. “Ah’m more worried about Sweetie… She lies there in the rain…”

“Well, I check’d on ‘er, she hid und’r dat airship engine. Ya know, ‘er white casing is quite… distinctive.”

Apple Bloom nodded. Wrench reached to the inner pocket of her green vest and took some metal part from it. She put it on the floor in front of her and grinned proudly.

“What’s that?” Apple Bloom asked.

“A new bolt for our pepeshka. Now I gotta wait for Scrap Yard to give ‘t to me an’ I can repair it. Or maybe ya wanna try?”

“Where did ya get it? And why isn’t Scrap Yard with us?”

“He needs t’ pretend to be a soldier. An’ I took ‘t from one of dem sleeping guys. He didn’t object…” She smiled sheepishly.

“What? Ya stole it?”

“Yup. Hey, don’t look at me like dat. Ya do realise dat we’ll haveta get da fuck outta here soon? It’s better not to ‘ave those guys shootin’ at us… So I also took those…”

She reached to the inner pocket on the other side of her vest and took two box magazines out of it. She then took the duct tape from one of the countless outer pockets and taped them together.

“Jungle fuckin’ style…” She giggled. “Finally, dat ol’ drum thingy made a hole in my back so deep I can feel da wind on my spine… 35 rounds each… Dat makes 70. ‘Nuff to get to Cant’lot.”

“Do ya really think they won’t let us go?”

Wrench looked at Apple Bloom as if she suddenly went crazy.

“Girl, dunno if ya noticed, but dere’s a war ‘round ‘ere. We can’t just tell ‘em dat we’re goin’ to Cant’lot, they’ll eith’r shoot us at dawn as spies, or ask us how ‘xactly we’re gonna get past da guards.”

“Ah– Ah know it’s war…” Apple Bloom replied, tears forming in her eyes. “Just before we met ya, we…”

She told Wrench how Sweetie and her were almost killed and how they were rescued by Discord. During her story the skinny filly cursed loudly several times, and when Apple Bloom got to the moment when they were surrounded by the fire, with Sweetie dying, she wrapped her hoof around her.

“I’d say it’s a bullshit, but I heard ‘bout dat Discord… And it’s da only way to ‘xplain yer friend’s appearance. Dat technology doesn’t even exist…”

“What doesn’t exist?” they heard Scrap Yard’s voice. He entered the tent and put his gun, its drum magazine discarded, on the floor.

“Sweetie Belle,” Apple Bloom replied.

“Yeah, da robotic little devotchka. She’s lookin’ after a crate of ammo I nicked when I was ‘guarding’ the camp. Pretty nice for somepony who doesn’t exist.”

“I’m afraid ‘bout her…” Wrench said. “I hope ya don’t mind dat I took a look at ‘er when we were walkin’… She’s, like, yer age?”

“Yes,” Apple Bloom replied. She shuddered. What Wrench saw that made her worry about Sweetie Belle?

“Shit. I noticed dat some parts of ‘er body, like front hooves and part of da head are organic… Dat means they can grow while da rest – hind legs, casing and whatever’s under it – can’t… If dat Discord wants ya to do somethin’ for ‘im, he’ll ask for it soon…”

“So… she’ll die?”

“Dunno. Maybe there’s some magic behind dat… But I’m not sure…”

Apple Bloom lowered her head. For a moment they were sitting in silence.

“Don’t ya have any happier topic?” Scrap Yard asked.

“D’ya have any plan how to lose our little company?” Wrench asked.

“As soon as da rain stops, they’ll continue da march to Canterlot. Their route’s next to one of da caves.”

“Caves?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Da whole und’rground system of ‘em. Firefly uses ‘em as magazines and bunk’rs in case of apocalypse.” Wrench laughed and made a circling gesture around her ear.

Apple Bloom remembered about the system of caves and old mines below the capital of Equestria. She’d first learned about them after Princess Cadance’s wedding, but didn’t pay much attention to them. The fact that they were spreading far away from the mountain Canterlot was located on, was new to her.

“Yeah, we’re gonna use ‘em to depart from da group. One of those caves is big ‘nuff to hide a cart in it,” Scrap Yard said.

Apple Bloom nodded. Wicked Wrench took the submachine gun and gave it to her.

“What d’ya want me to do with it?” the filly asked.

“I told ya I usually calm down when I repair somethin’. Think ya should try too…”

“Yeah, maybe…” Apple Bloom looked at the gun unsurely. She knew that it couldn’t fire – there were no bullets inside and it needed a new bolt – but still she had no idea what to do with it.

“’Here, ‘ave dis.” Wrench gave her a screwdriver. “Ya know, ya can strip it down usin’ an empty shell, but since I’ve tools…”

Apple Bloom took the screwdriver and began unscrewing the parts of the gun. She carefully put each of them on a blanket. Wrench was right – the work was monotonous, but soon she calmed down a bit, trying to focus on each, even the smallest of the springs. The older filly helped her in cleaning them. Together, they removed rust from the metal surfaces and greased the moving parts. Finally, she mounted a new bolt in place and pulled it backwards to check if it ran smoothly. Then she reached for the magazines.

“Bett’r not,” Wrench said. “I don’t wanna sleep with a loaded gun next to my head, ya know… These op’n bolt guns can fire when dropped…”

Apple Bloom nodded and put the gun back. Automatically, she looked at her flank. Normally, she’d be disappointed to see the lack of cutie mark, but this time she sighed with relief. While stripping the gun and putting it back together fascinated her, she didn’t want it to be her special talent.

Wrench yawned and curled into a ball.

“I think I’m gonna hit da hay too,” said Scrap Yard looking at her. Soon they were both wrapped in the sleeping bags. Wrench was snoring loudly.

Apple Bloom was fully awake. She already slept some time before Wrench woke her up. For a while she was just lying there, listening to the drops drumming against the canvas. Then she decided to go and visit Sweetie.

She got up on her hooves and quietly walked out of the tent. The first wave of rain immediately soaked her fur, cold wind freezing her to the bone. She began to regret that she didn’t take any clothes with her.

She trotted to the Scrap Yard’s cart. Her hooves were sinking in the mud, causing her to wince. She noticed that the damaged tank was also slowly sinking in a quickly softening ground.

“Wer da?” Somepony shouted at her. She heard a double click of an assault rifle set to the semi-automatic fire. She immediately held her breath, trying to be as quiet as possible.

The bat pony emerged from the darkness. It was the one she’d seen before, the commander of the camp.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, lowering his gun. “What are you doing here, crazy filly?”

“Ah need to pee,” she replied in a tone suggesting that she was desperate.

“You should’ve done that behind your tent. You can get cold walking in the rain…”

She only shrugged.

“Oh yeah, I heard you’re a silent type. Okay, I’m not stopping you any longer.”

He pulled the fire selector upwards and went in other direction. Apple Bloom sighed with relief and went to the cart.

“Sweetie?” she asked.

It took a while before she heard her friend’s voice. It was a bit muffled as if she was buried under something heavy. “Hi, Apple Bloom. Nice to meet you. I’m currently in energy-saving mode – there’s no sun to charge my batteries.”

“Oh… Ah’ll go then. Ah don’t want ya to run outta energy…”

“No, stay with me. I’ve been only sitting here and listening to the soldiers, so I’ll manage. You know, two donkeys came here and one of them said something like ‘Luna stole our revolution’ and some nasty things about those bat ponies…”

“Luna stole their revolution? What did he mean?”

“I don’t know. The other one said that without Luna there’d be no revolution, just their guts smeared on the pavement in Detrot.” Her voice slightly faltered when she said those words. “Then the first one said that even if they win, it’ll be all the same and–“

“Okay, nevermind,” Apple Bloom interrupted her. She didn’t understand much about politics and Sweetie, though able to exactly memorize the whole conversation, couldn’t explain that to her. “Did they say something about us?”

“Well, some jokes about Scrap Yard and his two fuck toys. Do you want me to quote them?”

“No, thanks…” Apple Bloom decided not to delve into this topic.

“Anyway, they both hope they’ll be send to escort us to Ponyville… Though one of them said that this rain means that it soon can get hot in there… I think he didn’t mean the weather.”

“Yeah, Ah guess so…”

“Then the bat ponies came. You know, the commander of this group here and that new one. The one with battered armour. He’s suspicious…”

“Suspicious? What d’ya mean?”

“He said that one of those fillies Scrap Yard had brought with him looks like the dead sister of one of the Element Bearers.”

Apple Bloom didn’t swear too often. This time, however, she just had to. Especially because just as she did, she heard, for the second time that night, a click of a gun’s safety being switched to semi-auto mode.

“Just like I thought…” the bat pony muttered. “I knew I saw you before, kid… I don’t know if you realise that the photo of your class is on every propaganda paper Celestia’s pegasi drop on our soldiers… Along with the messages from their living relatives… Not wise, since some of the dead Foals of Ponyville apparently still are alive and kicking… And I didn’t forget Applejack’s name…”

Apple Bloom heard some commotion behind her, soon punctuated with Wrench’s high-pitched voice shouting insults at the soldiers.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to kill you… Actually, I’m equally interested in you and in that peculiar filly you were talking to…”

“Let me guess: you think I’m a lost piece of military technology? So original.” Sweetie deadpanned.

“Hmm…” For a split second he aimed his rifle at her, before turning it back at Apple Bloom. “Metal casing, artificial voice, hydraulic limbs, laser eye, and ill-fated attempts at sarcasm. If that’s not a military technology, then I don’t know what it is.”

“If it was a laser eye, you’d be now a batch of Estufa de morcego…”

Apple Bloom had no idea what Estufa de morcego was, but she suspected that Discord had something to do with that. The bat pony didn’t know that either, but from what he heard about lasers, if Sweetie had one, she could fry him in a split second. Luckily for him, several donkeys came to him, carrying restrained Wicked Wrench, whose colourful slurs quickly let him forget about the lasers. “Bastard son of a rat and an umbrella” had a certain ring to it.

“Judging by your language, you’re not a kin of somepony important?” he deadpanned.

“Of course I am! I’m Celestia’s long lost daught’r! Can’t ya see dat aura of divinity radiating from my arse?”

“Certainly I can. You’re just brimming with it.”

Apple Bloom saw that the soldier who was poking Wrench with his gun was actually Scrap Yard. He noticed her gaze and blinked at her before aiming the recently cleaned submachine at the bat pony. Apple Bloom gulped. Wrench had told her that Scrap Yard couldn’t shoot well, and she was certain that she was in the line of fire.

“Zerstörer? What are you doing there?”

It was the second bat pony, the one that had talked to Apple Bloom earlier. He stepped into the circle of light.

“Since when are you in charge of my detachment?” he asked. Some donkeys lowered their guns. However, they were still holding Wrench firmly.

“Have you seen what they have on that cart?” Zerstörer asked, poking Sweetie Belle. “It just screams ‘military technology’! That’s what I’m in charge of here!”

“I’m not ‘it’ and I don’t scream!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed angrily.

“After your own engineers tried to shoot you, you’re still in charge of technology?” The bat pony commander laughed. Zerstörer glared at him angrily and aimed his gun at him.

Before he could pull the trigger, a pair of hydraulically-powered hind legs contacted with his temple. The rifle fell out of his hooves and he collapsed on the ground next to it without making a sound. Before he could get up, one of the donkeys hit him with the butt of his gun, rendering him unconscious.

Apple Bloom’s jaw dropped. It took her some time before she muttered something that sounded like “thank you” to him.

“Oh, don’t thank me…” he said. “Just because I don’t want old Zerstörer to put his hooves on this interesting machine, doesn’t mean that I don’t want to have a look at her…”

Apple Bloom froze. The soldiers looked at their commander, waiting for the orders. Wrench glared at them angrily, ready to fight them with her teeth and bare hooves if she had to.

“Unlike him, however, I’m not a foalnapper and a blackmailer. You three are free to go,” the bat pony said. “Yes, Mr. Scrap Yard, I know you’re travelling with them. Since you arrived, I’ve been watching you and trust me, you don’t look like a soldier. This skinny filly carried your gun more often than you…”

Scrap Yard cursed under his breath. One of the donkeys approached him and took his gun with ease. Sweetie Belle jumped off the cart, slithering on the mud next to unconscious Zerstörer.

“I’m afraid you didn’t ask me if I want to stay with you,” she said.

“Who cares? I could ask that tank over here the same thing…”

Sweetie Belle’s artificial eye started to glow stronger.

“Bad idea, mate…” Wrench whispered theatrically. The bat pony aimed his gun at Sweetie. She lowered her head, aiming her horn at him. For a moment they stood there, glaring at each other angrily.

Then, Sweetie’s hind legs gave up and she collapsed in the mud.

“Low battery level…” she whispered.

“No!” Apple Bloom shouted, shielding her friend with her body.

“It’s okay,” said Sweetie Belle calmly. “I’m 99% sure my casing is completely bulletproof.”

“Get out of here, filly,” the bat pony muttered, but Apple Bloom was still trying to help Sweetie get up. “Get out, now! Or I’ll shoot her!”

“My casing is–“ Sweetie paused when she saw that he was no longer aiming at her. Instead, he turned his gun to Wrench, whose smirk faded. For the first time since they’d met, Apple Bloom saw her shaking in fear of her life.

“Let it go, AB,” Sweetie whispered. “I’ll take care of myself…”

Apple Bloom sighed heavily. She didn’t want to leave her friend, but Sweetie Belle was right. She could survive being shot. Wrench couldn’t.

Apple Bloom walked away, her legs wobbly. Seeing this, the bat pony lowered his gun.

“Good,” he concluded. “You three are free to go. Of course, you’ll leave your cart, gun, and that filly here.”

Apple Bloom, barely containing tears, trotted to Wrench who gave her a reassuring hug. Scrap Yard stood next to them, silent. The soldiers now surrounded Sweetie. Apple Bloom trotted to them; she wanted to see her friend again, just one more time.

“What are you still doing here?” The bat pony shouted. “Get out!”

***

Scootaloo looked at Sweetie as if she was checking if her fellow Crusader was really there. Sweetie Belle only smiled impishly and sat next to Apple Bloom.

“Well, I guess it’s time for my part of the story…”

***

The electricity from the tank’s accumulator was something she needed much. Especially because something weird happened to the weather – the rain didn’t even stop to pour when the heavy snow replaced it. Sweetie blessed the stove in the tent – she could still feel cold underneath her casing, not to mention that it wasn’t good for the electronics, even if it was made by Discord’s magic.

Too bad, the bat pony commander, whose name was Schwert, wasn’t a host she’d want to visit. She was currently tied, sitting next to similarly restrained Zerstörer. He was still unconscious after what she did to him.

“So, filly,” Schwert said, leaning to her and watching her carefully. “Who are you and how can you help the Moon Army?”

“My name’s Sweetie Belle and I’m from Ponyville. My friends and I are looking for our cutie marks. That’s why we call ourselves The Cutie Mark Crusaders.”

“Your friends? There’s more of you?” His eyes shone as he thought about his own army of robots.

“Umm… my friends are actually more organic. Apple Bloom is one of them, there’s also Scootaloo, who’s dead but I guess she’s also looking for her cutie mark... She wouldn’t give up like that.”

“Wait… Can robots have cutie marks?” Schwert decided not to delve into the topic of Scootaloo, whoever she was. Having an army of the machines sounded more appealing to him than the army of undead fillies.

“Can’t I dream? Last night I dreamt that my cutie mark was an electric sheep.”

“Hmm…” Schwert scratched his chin. “Of course you can… Well, I assume that you’re partially organic… How did you get those, umm… unusual enhancements? And, for Luna’s sake, why did you need them?”

“I had a small accident with the safety matches. Or maybe it was bat ponies with a napalm bomb? No hard feelings, by the way.” Sweetie shifted her position. “Can you loosen these ropes a bit? You can’t imagine how stiff my organic muscles are…”

“Yeah, and you’ll buck me like you did with Zerstörer…” He poked the pony in question, who groaned. “You know, that’s why I’m asking you for these enhancements… If my soldiers were equipped with them…”

“Well, getting them is easy. Just wait till Discord passes by–”

“Discord? The chaos god?” he asked. That explained many things. For example why Sweetie was giving him a headache.

“Hmm, old, tall, looks like something a drunk taxidermist would create? Yeah, that’s your draconequus. And he’s not a god, technically he’s a spirit. Becoming a robot is easy, you just need to cut your legs off, do him a favour and hope for the best.”

He looked into the filly’s eyes, trying to find out if she was joking. Soon he regretted – staring contest with a pony whose one eye had an iris diaphragm instead of a pupil was quite unsettling.

“Can it be done without cutting off the legs?” Schwert asked.

“I don’t know. Never tried.”

Schwert groaned. He thought that he shouldn’t have released Sweetie’s friends. Even though blackmailing wasn’t his thing, it’d make interrogating the filly easier. On a second thought, he wasn’t sure if it’d work. If she was truly the creation of Discord, she’d probably still chat with him like that, even if he skinned that little Apple Bloom in front of her.

He yawned. Like all the bat ponies he was nocturnal which meant that since the beginning of the war he had to stay awake for part of the day despite the constant sunlight. Even though it was dark now, he wanted to sleep.

“We’ll talk again tomorrow…” A shadow of threat was present in his voice. He thought that if everything else failed, he’d try to torture Sweetie. She had some organic parts after all. Or maybe he’d deprive her of batteries. When he closed his eyes, he immediately started to dream about more ways of accomplishing the task.

Sweetie Belle didn’t have time to dream. In fact, she had some work to do.

She didn’t lie when she said that she didn’t have a laser in her eye. Yet, the sharp parts of her hind legs were even more than it was needed to cut the ropes. After she was done with her restraints, she stretched herself and headed to the exit.

“Not so fast, filly,” Zerstörer muttered. He just regained consciousness and he was now looking at her, completely capable of seeing her, despite the darkness around. “Either you’ll untie me, or I’m gonna shout…”

“Then you’ll never get me for yourself,” Sweetie Belle replied. “Schwert will just wake up while I’ll run away.”

“I can assure you he’s a light sleeper… Besides, this guy is a psycho! Do you know what he’ll do to you? Tomorrow you’ll beg this little life-sustaining device of yours to give up…”

“As if you were any better…” Sweetie got on her hooves and trotted to the tent’s entrance.

“Please, help me…” Zerstörer crawled to her. “You’ll never get past the guards without me…”

“Last time I checked, one of them hit you with a butt of his gun. Besides, there’s a heavy snow outside. There are no guards…”

Zerstörer cursed under his breath. His head started to ache again. But suddenly, an idea appeared in his mind.

“You won’t make it through the snow,” he said. “The cold will suck your batteries dry in no time, not to mention the grease in your limbs. Before the sun pierces through the clouds to power all those devices, you’ll be dead.”

Sweetie stopped in her tracks. She knew that any longer deactivation of the cybernetic parts could be fatal for her.

“I can help you…”

“And what’ll you want for that? I know you want to put your hooves on me just like Schwert…”

“Well, who wouldn’t? If I’d be able to understand that… unusual technology, we’d be unstoppable… Equestria… the Griffon Empire… Everything will be ours…”

“Why would I need the Griffon Empire?”

Zerstörer sighed. Never before he encountered a pony who wasn’t interested in conquering the world. But he didn’t encounter a cyborg either. He shot a panicked look at the sleeping Schwert and decided to change the tactic. “If he wakes up and doesn’t find you, I’ll be dead…” he said.

Sweetie began to process that. According to the Zeroth Law, both Zerstörer and Schwert could be a threat for the ponykind, but only if she helped them. The First Law was also in effect – she couldn’t, through inaction, allow a pony to come to harm.

She raised her hoof and effortlessly tore the ropes restraining Zerstörer. Schwert snored a little louder.

“Let’s go,” Zerstörer said.

They barely could go outside the tent. It was snowing; the strong wind was blowing, chilling Sweetie to the bone. The radiators immediately shut down, allowing the life-support system to heat the body underneath the casing and the machinery. However, some parts of her body, like her head and parts of her forelegs were still exposed.

Zerstörer tried to flap his wings only to find out that they didn’t really want to support his weight. He cursed in Pferdisch.

“We’ll have to go by hoof,” he muttered.

Luckily for them, the soldiers guarding the camp assumed that their enemies would be crazy to attack them in such a weather and hid in their tents. Sneaking out of the camp was easy. Before they disappeared between the trees, Sweetie went to their cart, now half-buried under the snow, and took a gun, wrapped in a piece of cloth, from it. Zerstörer wasn’t happy about that.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Of course not,” she said and put the gun on her back. “It belongs to my friend.”

Zerstörer remembered the skinny yellow filly wearing a green vest. He hoped that she’d never put her hooves on that gun again. It’d thwart with his plans – something he didn’t want to allow for.

It was hard to walk through the knee-deep snow. Her artificial legs were strong, but they were also prone to low temperatures. The bat pony didn’t feel much better – he was unable to fly and his uniform was barely protecting him from cold.

For Sweetie it felt like hours before they reached the boundary of the forest. The snow got between the mechanisms of her legs, short circuiting some of the wires – the limbs were twitching occasionally. Zerstörer was lagging behind. Suddenly, Sweetie stopped, startled by a message that flashed before her eyes.

A robot may not harm a pony, or, by inaction, allow a pony to come to harm.

“What the–” she muttered. She looked around and saw Zerstörer lying on his back and panting heavily. “Oh no…” she whispered.

She ran to him as fast as she could, tripping in the snow. He was barely able to fix her gaze upon her. Underneath her casing, Sweetie shuddered, seeing how pale he was.

“Goodbye, filly…” he whispered.

“No… I can’t let you die…” Sweetie said, covering him from the snow with her body. Her life-supporting systems were producing enough warmth to keep him alive, but she was running out of energy quickly. She entered power-save mode, just to last a little longer.

***

“I still don’t know how did they find me,” Sweetie said. “The odds were–”

“Never tell me the odds,” Apple Bloom interrupted her. “We were hiding in the forest, waiting for the weather to improve. When it finally did, we found ya maybe a hundred yards from us…”

“I guess my positioning device automatically localised you and guided me to you…” Sweetie said.

“Yeah, positioning device…” Apple Bloom muttered. “Or maybe something else? Like, dunno, Celestia watching after us…”

“Yeah, right…” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Where was Celestia when Rainbow Dash dropped a bomb at us? Or when… when I…” she looked at her hooves and said nothing. Wrench wrapped her hoof around her.

“So, what happened to that guy?” Scootaloo asked when she calmed down a bit.

“Oh, he survived…” Wrench replied.

***

“Dat cave should be somewhere ‘ere,” said Scrap Yard, digging through the snow. Sweetie Belle and Zerstörer were lying on the cart, unconscious, guarded by Apple Bloom. Wrench had given her the submachine gun, but Apple Bloom put it on the floor of the cart – she doubted that the bat pony would wake up, and even then she didn’t want to hurt him.

She was more concerned with Sweetie Belle’s injuries… or maybe they were damages? Some screws in her hind legs were loose; there were also some stones stuck between the artificial joints. Apple Bloom looked through the scattered tools and found a spanner and a hammer. She used the hammer to remove the stones and just started to turn the screws when she heard a moan.

“Was ist los?” Zerstörer groaned. Apple Bloom looked at him unsurely, but he only tried to turn on his hooves.

“Stay calm,” she said. “Ah don’t wanna hurt ya, but…” She lifted the gun.

The bat pony nodded, so Apple Bloom continued her work, looking at him from time to time. She finished repairing Sweetie’s legs and prodded her gently, but nothing happened.

“Low battery?” Zerstörer asked.

“It seems so…” Apple Bloom muttered. She hugged Sweetie and shuddered, feeling how cold her body was. Tears welled in her eyes.

“She saved my life…” Zerstörer muttered, trying to get up and approach them. Apple Bloom aimed the gun at him. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “I’m not gonna do anything to ya…”

“I believe him.”

Apple Bloom almost dropped the gun when she heard Sweetie Belle’s voice. The unicorn slowly got up on her hooves and stretched them.

“You look different than the last time I’ve seen you…” Sweetie Belle said.

“What do you–?” Apple Bloom looked at her flank and her jaw dropped. It was now adorned with a cutie mark – a spanner crossed with a hammer.

“I found da cave,” Scrap Yard said, approaching them. “I see dat ya’re back to jeezny… Horrorshow… Firefly will see ya soon.”

***

“So, where’s he now?” Scootaloo asked, looking around as if she expected to see a bat pony in the caves.

“Firefly sent him back to his companions in Cloudsdale,” Sweetie Belle replied. “She told him to ‘wait for the right time’...”

Scootaloo sighed. “Yet another of her games… I don’t get it...”

“It’s all a part of a plan,” Sweetie Belle replied. Her head drooped. “But since we lost Rarity… Who knows what happened to her...”

“Yeah…” Scootaloo muttered. “I think I’ll go to my room… Really, all I want to do is to lie in bed…”

“Don’t worry, Scoots,” Apple Bloom said. “It’ll sure get better…”

Scootaloo only shook her head and left the room, followed by Apple Bloom. They trotted down the tunnel and saw a little filly sitting on a wheelchair next to a stack of books.

“Hi, Dinky,” Scootaloo said. “How are you?”

“Great!” Dinky replied. “But you look a bit under the weather… Maybe because we’re underground?”

Scootaloo smirked. “Well, that was a little below your usual level…” she said and looked around the dark tunnel. “Though I appreciate your attempts to lighten up the mood.”

“I simply don’t like when ponies are sad…” Dinky replied and pointed at her wheelchair. “I’d say that I can’t stand it…”

Scootaloo froze. For a moment she’d almost forgotten what had happened to Dinky and now it hit her again. Next to her, Apple Bloom made a sound that sounded like something between a chuckle and a sob.

“Oh…” Dinky looked at them unsurely. “I know, most ponies don’t find it humerus when I joke about my legs… But what can I do? Cry because of them?”

“No…” Scootaloo muttered. “It’s okay, Dinky, we just… Nevermind…”

“Okay.” Dinky reached to the stack of the books. “Do you want to borrow some?” she asked.

“Maybe I’ll take something for Silver Spoon…” Scootaloo said. “From what I know, she likes her books like she likes her fillies… plot twists, Twist’s plot…”

“Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom hissed.

Dinky ignored her. She laughed and levitated a book from the stack. Scootaloo took it and trotted down the tunnel, to Silver Spoon and Twist’s room.

She knocked at the door. She heard some strange noises from the inside before someone trotted to the door and opened it.

“Hi, Scootaloo,” Silver Spoon said, smiling nervously. “Twist and I were kinda… busy…”

“Umm… I can see…” Scootaloo muttered, backpedalling. “Umm… Silver? You do realise that you’re wearing Twist’s glasses?”

“Whoops…” Silver Spoon chuckled. “I guess we have a very similar lenses…” She retreated to the room where Twist was sleeping on the couch and lifted her glasses from the floor. Scootaloo took a look at them and noticed that they were covered in something icky. She sniffed the air and something clicked in her head. She realised what was on Silver Spoon’s glasses and felt that the contents of her stomach started to travel upwards.

“I have a book for you,” Scootaloo said quickly and placed the book on the floor next to the door. “I’ll come, umm… later. See you!” She closed the door and quickly ran away.

***

It’d been a week since Scootaloo, Twist and Silver Spoon arrived to Canterlot. Scootaloo was walking with Apple Bloom through the dark nooks of the capital – just like many pegasi, she preferred open spaces and caves were making her claustrophobic. Not to mention that she’d decided to avoid Twist and Silver Spoon.

They climbed on the top of an abandoned barricade. Many of them had been built, blocking most of the streets of Canterlot. Shining Armor’s shield rendered them unneeded, but Scootaloo thought that they’d come in handy if the Moon Army ever stormed the town.

It seemed that they were close. The whole town was surrounded by soldiers. From time to time they could hear a muffled sound of cannon and a projectile exploding on the shield. Sometimes a detachment from Canterlot would try to shoot at the attackers, either from their rifles or light cannons.

Suddenly, everything silenced. Scootaloo looked at Apple Bloom unsurely. “Do you think they’re preparing something big?” she asked.

“We’d better hide,” Apple Bloom replied. “If they’re gonna break the shield, Ah’d rather not be here…”

Scootaloo nodded and they hid behind the barricade. An unpleasant thought struck her – in case of any attack, they’d be on the first line.

“Citizens of Canterlot!” The voice almost deafened them.

“Is that…” Scootaloo looked at Apple Bloom unsurely.

“Luna,” Apple Bloom muttered. “Ah wonder what’s goin’ on…”

“I mean no harm to you,” Luna said, her voice echoing through the street. “I only want to talk to my sister.”

The town was silent. When Luna spoke again, her voice was trembling. “Celestia, please… Speak to me… Don’t make me do that…”

“Do what?” Scootaloo asked, looking for some place to hide.

Luna’s tone changed. The trembling disappeared; it was now dry and emotionless. “I’ll give you 48 hours,” she said. “Then we’ll have to attack…”

Author's Note:

This chapter took me, more or less, six months to write. Meanwhile, I wrote a few further chapters, as well as a few other stories...

Comments

[Scarheart]

This story needs more attention.

[Samey90]

5084303
I know... I guess the problem is people's general reaction to warfics, not to mention that quite a few of best ponies die in it (just yesterday I talked with some people about our darkest fics and it seems that this one and Manehattan Blues are my darkest ones).

[yellowslotcar]

i just read your other book, carnivored, it was good!