Sweetie Bot - A Heart's Warming Tale

by Grimweird

Chapter 14. Power Struggle

Sweetie had always thought that robots would have a lot of text and stuff floating in their field of vision. At least that's what the Bloodbots in the movie always had. Rows of text and numbers that scrolled past so fast you could not make out what it read.

Sweetie had not had any such things in her vision. Therefore she thought she might not be a robot like those from the movies.

Now she had it. And she hated it.

Her vision was infrared. And while this helped to combat the pitch black darkness of the rainy night, it was clouded by diagrams and text that told of her inner status. And even more text that told of her surroundings. Energy bars, targeting markers, trajectory calculations and mission objectives, All of which went unused since she had no idea of her course or mission.

The only thing she did know was that she hated every last bit of it.

It was so annoying to have a lot of things filling her field of vision. It was like every single voice in her head had been given a front row seat in her peripheral vision. Everything that could not fit in her eyes was queued up in her mind for their turn to bother and distract her. And those things that did pass only moved to the back of the cue to repeat in an constant loop.

Thinking about anything, or taking notice of anything only made it jump out of her peripheral vision and into her main line of sight. Not that that wasn't already occupied by two big crosshairs that kept jumping around and analyzing the potential threat of every single tree she passed.

In a way it was her own fault. Her fear of potential pursuit-bots had sent her tracking systems into high alert. The same fear that sent her running through the woods at a speed that would break the most well trained athlete.

An unknown amount of time had passed since she managed to get away from the mechanic and his murder machines. She could not say for how long she ran. Which was ironic. Of all the displays that fought for attention in her vision, a simple clock had not been one of them.

Eventually, when the fear of being chased had settled to a reasonable amount, she had slowed down to a trot.

Then there was an explosion that sent her running again, Fearing that the bloodbots were on her trail, fearing that they might jump out of the shadows at any moment. But as time passed (again it was unknown how long) and nothing made itself known, she was left to contemplate the nature of her new eyes.

They were still her old eyes. The mechanic hadn't touched them.
These things, (this way of looking) had always been in her, just hidden, locked away beneath layers of code, just like the true nature of her being to begin with. Just how much was it she still did not know about herself? How many secrets were hidden away inside various parts of her body?

Could it even be called a body? Or was it not just a machine made to look like a body? Was this shell something she piloted more than lived in? Seeing the world through this new field of vision was like sitting inside some wagon. Listening to the thumping sound of her hooves galloping over the muddy ground.

It was a while before she realized that she did not grew tired, no matter how far, or how fast she ran. The forest just flew by as her hooves beat the ground in a steady rhythm under her. They were like distant machines, pumping her hydraulic muscles under her without the slightest hint of fatigue. No strain on her legs developed, not even a voice in her head telling her that a recording of some lactic acid sequence sound be initialized. Not since her body functions processor laid silent. Not since he deleted it...

Sweetie skittered to a stop.

She took a look around. And listened.
There was nothing. Nothing other than the sound of the rain splashing against her helmet, and her new, thick armor.

Sweetie looked down on herself. A few black scorch marks dotted her armored frame where the thunder strikes of the bloodbots had bounced off her. Otherwise, she was unscathed.

Not a single bolt of her metallic, skeletal frame could be seen through the cracks in the armor plating. The mechanic had done a masterful job designing this suit. Every plate overlapped the other to some extent. meaning there were no exposed cracks where enemy's going to get a shot at her mechanical innards. Wearing it, was almost like wearing a costume. At lest she could tell herself that she was a real pony underneath.

Not that there was.

If so, she would have been able to feel the weight of the armor on her. she would have felt the cold of the air around her and the rain on her uncovered face. She would have heard a heartbeat from inside her chest. She would have been breathing heavily from the mareathon she had ran. There should have been a rumble from her belly and a pressure in her rear end telling her it was time to go to the little fillies room. She should be sore in all four hooves and her eyelids should have been heavy as lead.

She had never felt so distanced from her own body. And she had never wanted to close her eyes as much as now.

The targeting systems were becoming more of an annoyance than a reassurance as it jumped around, marking every red tree as a potential hiding spot for enemy's. The entire world was nothing but shades of red and black. Every tree and bush was surrounded by a yellow outline as the targeting system drew up the edges of everything. Even her own armored leg was outlined as she waved in in front of her face. (along with some annoying scribbles of text telling her what she already knew about said leg).

All the while the rain kept falling on her open eyes. Water she had no way of wiping off, except for her clumsy, iron clad hooves. It did not help that her heightened hearing registered every little drop that fell around her, and on her. Drumming on her armor and helmet like an orchestra.

Never before had she contemplated the lack of eyelids as much as now.

“Go away.” She thought. “Disappear. Blink.”

She could not blink. She had no eyelids to close over her eyes. They had burned off in the fire.
But she needed this. She thought she was gonna go mad if she never got to close her eyes again.

-:: !Warning! // Eyelids not found ::-

Sweetie groaned. If she could just turn off this infrared vision. If she could just make the annoying scrolls of text disappear. She could swear it would strain her eyes, if she had been able to feel the strain.

"Come on. Blink. Close your eyes."

She focused her attention forward. And once again she could feel herself stretch. Feeling herself wrap around the eyeballs. Her energy, fueled by her desire to close her eyes seemed to form a pair of imaginary eyelids over her field of vision, and everything in it. The infrared vision, the scrolling text and the targeting system was warped in that energy which Sweetie could only describe as as he magic. and the functions that guided them became clear in her mind.

"Go away!" She thought at them.

-:: Shutting down optical lenses ::-

Suddenly everything went black.

Sweetie stopped dead in her tracks. She could not see. Here eyes where completely black.

She was blind.

For a moment, she panicked. Has she just lost her sight as well?

“No! Open! Open your eyes!" She shouted at herself. "I want to see!”

-:: Optical lenses rebooting ::-

Her eyes rebooted. And slowly her vision returned. It took her a while to realize that her eyes were slowly adjusting to the pitch black night. Gone were the clear red sight of infrared. She once more had a clear, normal vision, free from any targeting circles and scrolling text.

She practiced blinking for a while. Turning her eyes on an off. On and off. After a while she had gotten the rhythm down. She grabbed hold of that small stream of code that constantly had tried to make her nonexistent eyelids close, and re-directed it to that metaphorical on/off switch that she constructed in her mind. She then re-entered her forward consciousness, and waited.

When the urge to blink returned, she thought about closing her eyes, just like she would to to pull her eyelids shutt. Her eyes instantly turned off. Somewhere far back in her mind she could hear that switch being flipped by her will.
She opened her 'eyelids' again. And her eyes turned back on.

She smiled. Blinking was a habit that ran so deep that no fire or evil mechanic could take it away from her.

She allowed herself an ounce of satisfaction. It felt so good to regain something she had lost.
She created a sub routine with the simple task of making her eyes periodically blink. Then stored it in her 'body functions'.

She remained sitting, and started doing the same thing for her heart. Her body felt so silent and lifeless without any heartbeat. The mechanic had deleted all subroutines that controlled her 'heart beat simulator'. But she remembered how it felt like to have a heart thumping in her chest.

She was able to get into the heartbeat simulator and restart it. All the settings were gone, but Sweetie remembered what her heart was supposed to sound like.

She tweaked and calibrated for a while, and when the sound was similar enough - she saved the setting and its associated functions in a new sub routine, and stored in her 'body functions'.

She smiled wider this time.

Just like she had been able to force her body to breathe again after the drowning accident she now made her other body functions start up again. It was a lot harder than just hitting the off and on switch since the corresponding subroutines had been erased and she had to rewrite them all manually. But her stubbornness persisted. Even if she had to reconstruct every routine from zero she would do it. Because she could not let the mechanic get away with taking anything from her! She would not let herself loose any functions.

She would not loose the feeling of being a pony!

She listened that steady rhythmic pumping from her chest. It sounded wrong to her heightened hearing. She quickly turned the sensitivity down to the right levels. But it didn't help much. It was not just that the sound now resonated through a metal frame instead of flesh. It was not also that the metal armor made the thumping echo like in a hollow cave.

Hollow...

Sweetie lifted her head up towards the dark rainy sky, and let the drops fall into her eyes.

Did she even remember what it was like to be a pony any more.

Could she remember?

Did she have the memories?

A new wave of anxiety washed over her. She needed to make sure that all the memories were still there.

She shut off her eyes to ease the process as she focused inwards. Eventually she could feel herself slip, falling backwards into herself.

---

***

---

It was like falling into a cesspool of information. A thousand files cluttered the reaches of her subconsciousness. Where previously the information of her motor skills had sat in their respective components, only surfacing whenever she stretched her mind out for them - they were now a shoal of new information, running wildly without anywhere to go. Data that had previously been kept in check only by her pressing urgency to run away from her would be captive, was now pulling her down. Each and every one demanding her attention.

Sweetie panicked, as she thought that this was what the Mechanic had done to her mind. That opening the secret doors on her mind had once again flooded the place with even more programs.
The only thing that kept her focused in this sewer oh chaos, was the worry for the state of her precious memories.

The shoal of new data reacted to this will, and began to dissociate itself. Singling out a section of the swirl labeled 'Memory files'.

Sweetie made her way towards them.

-:: Loading recently acquired memory file // Loading recording nr 21 // Memory file labeled as "Erotic" ::-

-:: New data Loaded // Uploading data to central nervous processor // Running record ::-
-:: Synchronization with systems ::-

-:: Memory file playing ::-
-:: Registering new environmental information ::-

-:: Uncomfortable ::-

Suddenly, Sweetie was not in a rainy forest any more.
She was indoors, sitting on a comfortable chair in front of a big, round table. She felt the cosy, yet uncomfortable padded chair underneath her. The seat was hot, and she could feel the sweat forming on her rear as she had clearly been sitting her for very long.

Except. She had never been sitting here.

Whatever awe that Sweetie went through at the astounding notion that feel, actually feel the sweaty chair beneath her and the hot air around her, was quickly pushed aside by the question of where she was. And when?

In the dim light if the single lamp hanging over the center of the table she could see a number number of ponies sitting with her around the table. All strangers to her. There was A yellow pegasus with blue hair. A brown earth pony with an orange mustache, and a unicorn so black that he almost faded into the shadows behind him, If it had on been for his fiery red mane and equally red eyes.

There were others as well. Sitting just outside her field of vision. Sweetie could hear their tired voices as they murmured in a discussion that had clearly been going on long before she got here. But as she tried turning her head to look at them, Sweetie found that she could not move her head, her eyes, or any part of her body.

In fact. Even her body felt wrong, It was too ... big.

Sweetie didn't get more time to think about that. For as her eyes continued to turn to the right, sweeping across these strangers, they fell upon a scary familiar face.

THAT MARE! That crazy mare yellow mare was sitting right next to her.

Sweetie wanted to fly of the chair. To crawl down and hide under the table before that crazy mare set her on fire again. But she could not control her body. Not even an inch. She was stuck like this. In a strange body, in a strange place, that she by all accords had never been in.

It did not take her to long to realize that this was not her memory. It was somepony else's, being played up on all her systems. Making her feel, smell and hear the world around her as if she was actually there right now. As if she was somepony else. Experiencing what they had experienced.

Trapped in a foreign body in a foreign memory, Just like she had in that memory of Screwloose.

Afraid that pain would be coming. Sweetie metaphorically pressed herself as far back as she could (which was not by an single inch). Afraid that the mare would jump at her at any second.

However. The yellow mare wasn't even looking at her. She was sitting with one elbow buried into the table and the hoof buried into her cheek, looking bored as she stared out towards the other end of the table.

The eyes Sweetie was viewing through briefly tracked the mares eyes, finding that, at the opposite end of the table sat a third mare, hidden behind a pair of glasses. There must have been other features to this pony, but the glasses caught all of the dim light that might have fallen upon her face and reflected it outward with such intensity that it looked like she had a pair headlights instead of eyes.

Sweetie could not put her hoof on it. But for some reason the sight of those glasses filled her with a since of familiarity... and dread.

Her mouth was moving, but her voice faded into the murmur of the ponies around her. Sweetie wasn't listening to what they were discussing - and neither was the pony she was currently possessing.

Her eyes slowly slid back to the yellow mare. But she remained focused on the conversation. Seemingly unaware that this pony was staring at her.

Regardless, the eyes continued to pan down over her mare. Taking in every inch of her body before coming down to the mare's mark.

It was the silhouette of a pony. A profile picture of the pony anatomy, with the different inner parts laid bare and color coded like a picture in a book about the body. One of those pictures that always got a collective "Eeeeew" from the class whenever Cheerilee brought them up for a biology lesson.

Sweetie had not been able to get a good look at the made mare's mark before. But she got ample of time to study it now, as the eyes remained staring at it for longer than seemed necessary.

For some reason, the sweaty seat underneath her seemed to be getting hotter.

"Do you see something you like?"

Her eyes instantly went up, and met with the mares. She looked at her with the same grin that grownups sometimes do. Now it was the cheeks that were getting warmer as Sweetie felt this pony blush and the heart beat raise.

Her eyes were diverted back out to the meeting. Where the tone was growing more negative.

The brown earth pony slammed his hooves down on the table.

“Mares! Gentlecolts! Please. I know that the power issue is of great importance. But we need to thing about the long term consequences as well. One day this filly will grow up.

“Even though that seems unlikely now” The black stallion cut in. A red glow appeared from his forehead as he levitated a check-board up in front of him. “With the healing crystals just barely substantiating the tissue. Decomposition and rejection of the organic tissue continues to be a problem.”

He looked over his notes to a blue unicorn stallion, sitting across the table

“Don't look at me.” Said the stallion. His dark blue eyes growing cold. “My crystals are perfect.”

The brown stallion shirred its orange mustache.
“I still dare to believe she will one day grow up. And the metallic parts we put in her now will not be growing with her. This is going to lead to extreme physical problems for the little one. Up until now he have been using an endoskeletal support frame with a telescopic function to slowly increase the size of the body. But such a frame is not gonna cut it all the way into adulthood.

“Lovely that you care.” Said the yellow pegasus with sleek brown hair. “But if we cant solve the power issue, then there wont be a future for her. The blood-turbine system we tried is barely enough to sustain itself , let alone power her cybernetic parts. Its why she still only has one, maybe two active hours per day between recharges. Which brings us back to square one. We need a bigger battery.”

“Which brings us to square zero” Said a thin orange unicorn with a messy black mane. “How are we going to charge this battery? Its all fine and dandy now when the subject is asleep for 23 hours a day. But recharging her in her sleep is not always going to be an option. We need some form of self sustaining system.”

“And I'm telling you. There is no way to put more parts into the body without sacrificing more tissue.” The brown pony shot back.

The pony Sweetie was occupying stood up.

A thick male voice rolled out of her mouth. A voice Sweetie recognized all to well, as she had just run away from that voice not to long ago.

"Gentlecolts, Mares, I believe that I and miss Marrow here have the solution to all out problems.”

He pulled out a file from under the table using his hoof. A green hoof stained with a few metal gray stains. Fewer than Sweetie had seen, but still enough to be recognizable.

Sweetie wanted to throw herself into the nearest wall. She wanted to bang her head in the table in front of her, anything to make this devil of a pony that she was occupying suffer.
But she could do nothing. These experiences were nothing more than a recording. A movie playing up in her head, and on all the five senses in her body.

Sweeties little tantrum ceased as Molten pulled out a number of identical schematics from his file, and had the ponies with magic distribute one copy to each of the seated.

"I got the inspiration for this from real life." Molten said. Smiling to the mare next to him. "In a real flesh and blood body, the food that you eat is broken down in the stomach, and all the nutrients - protein and mineral and all that good stuff – are then distributed over the body, like building blocks. Basically - You absorb the energy from the food you eat to power you body."

“Technically it's the intestinal system, not just the belly, that breaks down and absorbs the energy from the food.” The yellow mare pointed out.

Sweetie felt the face of the stallion she detested smile at the mare that she hated, and she smiled back.

“Yes." He said "But this cybernetic belly will be able to break down and distribute all that is eaten, without the need of the rest of those long intestines. And if we don’t need the intestines, we can make room for a lot of other stuff her body needs instead. Like a couple of those batteries you have been working on.”

The pegasus, the blue unicorn and the orange one lifted their heads. They seemed quite pleased with the idea.

The brown, mustache adorned stallion at the other end of the table, did not share their enthusiasm.

“So. We are to get rid of even more organic tissue?” He said with a sigh “You do realize the only organic part left on this filly is going to be her fur."

Sweetie felt molten shrug at this.

“The subject has been rejecting all organic tissue with increasing frequency. It has been so right from the start. In fact. I want to say It's like it wants to become mechanized.”

There was some mumbling to this.

For the first time, the mare with the big glasses spoke up. Her voice was quite stern and stoic. and made the others shut their mouths.

"Lets say that this is going to work." She said, her glasses seemingly shimmering as she spoke. "How is this going to sole our "growing" problem?"

The question was not directed at Molten, but out to the entire group.

"Anypony?"

The blue unicorn with the cold eyes tapped his chin with his file, and smiled.

"I see what you are getting at Molten. And I believe, no, I know this will work well with a few ideas of my own."

"You have a suggestion then?"

"I was already working on a way to sustain the metallic organs. A self repair program if you will. I just did not have a way to get any raw material into the body. but with this." He waved Molten's file "It will become an even more advanced version of the repair program. This belly of yours breaks down the raw material into microscopic fragments, that my system then distributes across the body."

"Only problem with that is that the system wont work without a schematic." Marrow cut in. "Without any idea of what to work towards, the system would most likely just pile up the raw material..."

"It would be like a builder piling up a giant pile of bricks because he doesn't have a clue of what the house should look like." Molten finished.

"It would grow, but it wouldn’t have any shape." The orange unicorn pulled a hoof through his greasy hair. "Alternatively, it would expand her current body form And then we would have a filly the size of a full grown mare in a few years."

“So what you are saying is that we will have to decide what she is gonna look like when she grows up? That the system needs a Schematic for a full grown pony to know what to work towards?" The black Stallion said, and smiled. "So in other words – We need to draw up some schematics for a full grown mare?"

“Probably a few in between states as well. Fillyhood – tween – teen ect...” Said the orange unicorn.

The black stallion made a wheezing sound as he laughed through clenched teeth.

“I like the idea of being able to design your own daughter this way.” He said “That way you can make sure she doesn’t grow up to become a broad, fat, ugly mule.”

"That's racist against mules, and you know it." The brown earth pony said with a sigh.

“What will we do until such a system is finished?” Asked the Pegasus.

"Don't worry. We can always sedate her, shut her down, and then stretch out the bolts a little. So to speak. Its what that telescopic function is there for." Answered the blue unicorn.

“Agreed.” Said the mare in glasses. “I want us to make this our main focus. Molten, Marrow, I want you two to start working on that belly immediately, and Boe..."

The brown earth pony looked up.

"Design a system that goes with it. Prism and Shockwave, start working on some distribution magic. See if you can make raw material attach itself to a new surface without the object loosing its form."

The pegasus and the blue unicorn nodded.

"Necro, Stake. Make sure the little one 'grows' a little in preparation for the new augmentations. Stretch the skin out, but a little at a time. We need to give it time to grow without breaking. Crank up the volume of those stimulants, and make sure the protein disperser does not start leaking again."

The final pair of unicorns, the black and the orange, nodded.

"And finally, I don't want to hear any of you horny stallions talking about what curves we are gonna give her. We wont need to worry about designing a future body until we know that this distribution system works. That is all.”

At the mentioning of curves - the head Sweetie was occupying turned to look at the mare next to him again.

The mare in glasses banged her hoof in the table. Immediately, everypony started getting up and leaving.

Everypony except the one who Sweetie was hitchhiking in.

He waited until everypony had left. Then he walked up to the mare in glasses. Closer up, Sweetie could see that she was an orange mare with a brownish gray mane.

Still. Her big glasses shimmered so much in the dim light that Sweetie could not make out her eyes.

"Yes? Was there something else, Molten?"

Molten put a hoof to his mouth and cleared his throat.

“Yes. There was something i wanted to discuss with you. I believe this project is a waste if all we are gonna make is this snugly little teddy pony.” He nonchalantly circled his hoof in the air as he spoke. “It would be such a shame if all out research just were to just become a doll for that mere common couple to drool over. There is so much potential that could be used with this technology. And I believe we need to explore every aspect of it. Its our duty as scientists after all.“

“Just out with it Molten”. The mare hissed, clearly growing inpatient. “What is it you want?”

“What I want... Is to defend Equestria. ”

The mare rose an eyebrow.
Pleased that he had caught her attention, Molten's voice rose as he when on into a speech.

“Imagine: A computer that can think on its own – It would be the greatest deference system in Equestria. No longer would we have to send real ponies to defend our borders. No longer would parents have to worry for the safety their children. No longer would foals have to worry about if their parents will be coming home."

The mare raised an orange hoof. Stopping his speech before it would go on for to long.

"You seem to forget that there is a couple who would worry. You know. The parents would never allow this."

Sweetie could feel Molden's lips curve into a smile.

“Maybe they don't need to know.”

The mares look seemed to harden. Even though the glasses.

“Are you seriously thinking about turning our little project into a secret weapon?”

Molten gave a shrug.

“Don't worry. I wont actually add anything deadly. I Just want to run a few test an see what the software is really capable of. Besides – we need to create a new frame anyway. So why not to increase the durability of the while we are at it. Why not build it to last?”

The mare crossed her hooves under her chin. She thought for a moment before she gave the 'go ahead'.

Molten nodded and quietly slipped out of the room, and into a steel clad corridor. The metal gray walls seemed similar to the underground armory where he stored his steel stallions, (or were going to store them) but not as wide. This place seemed far more claustrophobic. And seemed to only consist of narrow corridors.

Molten made some turns down the maze of steel before coming up on a door. Not a regular door with handles. But a steel door with the name “Molten Metalhoof” scribbled in a welding plate in eye height. There was a hoof dial next to it. Molten twisted in a code (a far simpler one than Sweetie had seen him use to entered his secret lair). The door slid downwards into the floor with a metallic hiss. And Molten entered a quite ordinary looking room.

A small suite with little more than a bed and a large desk. Upon which a lot of papers, schematics and diagrams were stacked next to an array of small trinkets, gears, wires and springs put together in an arrange of devices – Each no bigger than a pocket watch. There was even a few small sculptures of tin, and a smelting pot next to them.

The door automatically hissed shut behind Molten as he entered. He walked up to the desk and pulled out a drawer. He pulled out even more papers and put them on his desk. Then he removed the bottom of the drawer, to reveal a small notepad, lying hidden on a second bottom.

Molten pulled up this notepad, and sat down at the desk to flip through it. In the thin light of the desktop lamp, Sweetie could see him stopping at a scribbled schematic of some very familiar looking blasters. Next to them he has scribbled down some potential names.

Weapon names: Energy canon - BFG – Master Blaster...

He reached up to scratch an itch that had been building in his neck. As he scratched it, the vision suddenly became blurry, and faded into static.

-:: Recording ending ::-

Sweetie returned to her own body. The memory of a cozy indoor environment slowly faded as the hollow existence of her callous metal body returned to her.

She looked up into the rain.

So, that was the answer to a question she never had time to ask. That was why the mechanist had weapons that seemed designed specifically for her, and not the other Steel Stallions. At least that explained why she had her cannon ports.

Her mind went to the two big weapons, now resting retracted and dormant in her back. Even with her cannon ports closed, and the weapons powered down, she could feel them, just like she could feel any other part of herself if she wrapped her consciousness around it.

It was not a feeling like the sense of touch, like pulling your hoof through your hair and feeling the stroke bend every straw of hair. It was more an awareness of presence.

Sweetie looked down on her hooves again. Maybe she wasn't as out of touch with her body as she thought. Skin or no skin, there was still this ability to course through herself. to ride along on this energy she felt coursing through her circuits. What was it? Was it magic? Or just electricity?

If so, did other machines feel the energy flow through them? It was not like anyone had ever asked how a toaster felt, as one plugged it into the outlet.

Just like the blasters had been plugged into her.

It was fascinating how quickly her body had taken in these new parts. How quickly it had accepted this extension of herself.

She guessed that explained how her systems could have “recognized” the blasters. They had been part of her before. The blasters may have been removed but the things in her eyes had been with her the entire time, just hidden from her. Hidden, like a lot of things.

Her mind wandered back into itself. Back to that cesspool of information she had taken from the mechanic.
There, on the bottom of that pool, laid that little file called "Control program." A file that Molten Metalhoof had dug up while searching through her mind. A file he had just glanced over before moving on to empty her body functions processor with that simple, terrifying word.

"Delete."

Sweetie would have shivered, had that sequence still existed.

The irony was that she had wanted the mechanic to wash her brain clean of all the robotic files and programs. To clear her mind of their presence so she could start thinking like a normal filly again.

Now she had ended up with even more useless files and programs than ever before. All floating in the back of her head, like a shoals of confused fish trapped in a way to small barrel.

Schematics over many different types of Steel Stallions. Calculations on how the Steel Stallion was superior to the average royal guardspony. And how many would be needed to properly defend Equestria (from all foreign hordes). There were military plans on how to defend Equestria from an imminent attack from Dragons, Griffins and pretty much every neighboring country – all at the same time. Plans of retaliation and invasion of said other countries. Self approved propositions on how to accumulate other countries' culture and welfare into Equestria, and make Equestria the single dominant empire over the entire world. And other stuff, in which Molten Metal praised himself as the greatest war hero Equestria will ever see.

Well, shame on him. He had tried to take away her memories. He had taken away her ability to feel tired, or hungry, or sleep.
It was only fair that she had taken all of his stuff in return.

Sweetie started to try and sort out the many new things floating around in her head.
She rooted through the stuff for a while, until she just wrapped up the entire package into a single file and shoved it into the back of her mind.

Next she turned her attention to her own memories.

She went back down into herself. As far back as she could remember. Past birthdays and vacations, to a time far before she came to Ponyville. To a time before Rarity moved away from home to start her business in Ponyville.

As she went back, Rarity shrank. Decreasing in age. The same with her parents, and the house around them. The wallpaper changed. The houses changed, the things in the house decreased from the treasure trove of memories that had been building up over the years, to just the bare essentials of a newly moved in family. But even though they might be financially strained, they could still afford to celebrate her fourth birthday - her third birthday - her second birthday - her...

-:: Memory corrupted ::-

… then suddenly, she came to a halt. A point she could not remember anything past. She had never tried to remember so far back, and had never had any reason to. But her memories just ended as they moved into their new house. Why could she not remember being born? Did any foal have memories of the very first day of their lives? No pony ever talked about it. Everypony said that memories got a little fuzzy the longer back you went. But she had a good memory. And for things to come to a screeching halt like that... what if he had managed to delete something?

The crying sequence remained silent. She had no tears to fell anyway.

She did actually not get sad at all. She got angry. Angry at the evil pony who had almost removed all her memories! The pony who had stripped her of the things that made her a pony and almost turned her into a Bloodbot!

And the worst part about it was. She had almost let him do it!

She had thought it would be so cool to dress up in armor. To receive some real weapons which to defend herself with. Defend all of Equestria, if that mechanic was to be believed. She had let herself get swept away by his warm chuckle and gifts, because for just a moment, she had managed to not feel sad.

She did not want to be sad anymore. She did not want to be sad ever again. She wanted the bad memories to go away so they could stop hurting her. She had almost let him remove her memories, because she did not want to feel sad any more.

Was she a sleeper agent? A bloodbot in pony skin just waiting to be activated?
The thought of the control program pounded in the back of her head. Dormant as the program might be, Its very presence scared her to the core.

In the movie. The Bloodbot infiltrators had all appeared like normal ponies. Scared and confused. Especially the foal shaped bots. Who were used to pray on sympathy to get close to ponies. But once they got sight of Rampony Mactails, their killer programming kicked in. A programing they said laid dormant until certain conditions were met. And gone was the innocence that had fooled everypony but Mactails. Gone. As if their core programing just deleted it.

What would have happened to Sweetie Belle if the mechanic had activated the control program? Would she have lost all her memories? Would she have become a mindless killing machine?
Would she then just go around all day and defend Equestria from all the foreign hordes, as the mechanic had put it. Tireless. Emotionless. Memory-less.

Sweetie grabbed her head. Suddenly the memories encapsulated in this titanium enforced cranium felt like they hung on by a thin thread. Like frail leaves that would be gone to the wind if some pony typed in the horrifying word "Delete". Suddenly it felt like if a single pony snuck up behind her and whispered the word, the control program would take over, and turn her into an obedient bloodbot.

But then what would have become of the pony known as Sweetie Belle? Did she not have a say in this?

Why could they not just ask her if she wanted to defend Equestria?

Sweetie would have loved to defend Equestia. She loved Equestria. But why did Equestria not love her?

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

Well, screw Equestria! And everypony in it!

The thought made her so mad that her combat mode activated. She stood up as the blasters shot out from her back and started humming all threateningly. Her eyes turned infra-red and her targeting system started scanning the forest for enemies.

One thing was for sure. She would not make the mistake of trusting any other grown up, or anypony, ever again.
If she ever saw another grown up again, she wanted to scare them. She wanted her blasters to come out of their ports and her eyes to turn red. Then they would know to stay back. And if not ... Then, she would make them.

For she would not let a single pony get close to her. She would not let anypony endanger her precious memory or free will. Not for as long as there was even the shadow of a chance that anypony could take control over her would she trust another soul.
If she did not have a say in what she was to be, then she would not let anypony else say another word.

If she could not teach the world to love her, then she would teach it to fear her instead!

Comments

[SPudRum]

Bad idea, Sweetie.

[LordChumley21]

Oh boy. Twilight and co. are sure in for a surprise when they finally catch up.

[Weavers of Dreams]

So it begins

[Deynarth]

Oh
When I saw her restrarting her "biological" fonctions , I though that she was getting better.
With accepting herself , maybe... with accepting others ?
Worse , she is definitelly getting worse.
Still , no tragedy tag , so I can still hope for a somewhat happy ending.
Twilight and co are just going to be in for some big trouble when they catch up , convincing her that they love her is going to be hard.
(Remind me of Mir from Ar Tonelico , somewhat . )

[hollowsbest]

"Oh no, I'm so scared."

Reference!

[Grimweird]

6151459

Of course I had to put that line in there somewhere.

[ferret]

And then she fell down the stairs like a slinky.

[ferret]

The saddest thing about all this is, while he would have deleted her foalhood memories, the reason Sweetie couldn't remember is because before the age of 2, her robotic body was nothing more than a souped up life support system, and the artificial memory storage hadn't even been completed yet. They were still sticking wires into Screwloose back then, much less recording memories without error! She doesn't realize this, so she thinks he deleted it, when it's just an early design flaw that caused corruption in the first few memories. He still deserves a rocket to the face for intending to do it, and for the programs he did delete, but she wouldn't feel so very violated, if Sweetie could realize that her lost foalhood memories were an accident long ago, not the arbitrary commands of some foolish administrator.

[Shining Dawn]

That simple, terrifying word.
"Delete."

[TacoBlend]

6152065
6151459

If she could not teach the world to love her, then she would teach it to fear her instead!

[M4Tiger4014]

Energy canon - BFG – Master Blaster...

I get it!

[OlDreaddy]

BFC.

Big Ffffffffuckin Cannon

[Tevesh]

7236659
Exactly!
I wonder how many got that reference.

[tsaukpaetra]

Ah yes. The control program...

[MatTheBook]

If she could not teach the world to love her, then she would teach it to fear her instead!

OH NO.
WE GOT A PROBLEM

[darklight731]

...Well, at least she has come to terms with herself. To an extent.