Part 2: Invariant Conditions
“Now you’re interesting…” Sarah heard the voice in the void of unconsciousness. The sound of it brought ripples, like the echolocation of a dolphin, illuminating somewhere familiar to her mind more than her eyes. It was the shape of an alley, with an overturned dumpster and a huddle of dirty figures.
Somehow she recognized them, even though she was in total darkness. The scrawniest, most pathetic of those children, huddled in back. At least it didn’t get cold enough for freezing, because she certainly would’ve frozen here.
“Where am I?” Sarah demanded of the voice, her own voice stretching higher and higher as she did. It wasn’t the voice of her human self at all, but the alien creature she’d become. There was a great deal of squeakiness to it—she could even hear the little distortion of her fangs.
“Somewhere you weren’t supposed to go.” The voice came from everywhere. It was male, distorted by great distance, but still it seemed deeply amused. “It’s quite an accomplishment on your part, friend. Or rather, it was quite the accomplishment of your long-dead counterpart, God rest her soul. Welcome to Equus.”
As he spoke, the scene of her ancient childhood vanished, replaced by something else. They were still in total darkness, yet Sarah could feel herself moving through it, gliding slowly. This was the Imprinting Station, tucked away in low orbit of Earth. Getting here had been the greatest scam she’d ever managed to pull.
She could feel the thin metal walls separating her from the void, the dense line of bodies waiting for their turn in the scanner. The pleasant conversation coming from the next room over from the ones who had already been scanned. This was the last place she remembered—the horizon of her memory. It was the edge of the map, a tumbling void from beyond which there was no return.
She wore another woman’s uniform as she waited in that line, doing her best impression of a hangover to excuse her inability to hold polite conversation with the others there. I was doing Sarah a favor. She didn’t want to do this anyway. Her religion didn’t like imprinting.
To her horror, the voice seemed able to hear her thoughts. “Perhaps she thought so at the time, perhaps you did. Regardless, those people are rotten now. That you, the real Sarah. Now you’re on Equus, here to do a job you don’t understand, on a place you don’t want to be. It’s quite peculiar.”
“Not true,” Sarah argued, not even bothering to try and hide her thoughts. If this strange voice was just going to look into her skull anyway, there wasn’t really much point trying to keep it private. “I wanted a fresh start. My life on Earth was shit. I never would’ve qualified to come here. But I found a way. I’ll… do my best with whatever job they’ve given me. I can pick it up.”
The voice laughed. “You want a new start, how lovely. I wonder if you’d feel trapped here—do you have to take only the opportunities given to you by Othar? Its ruler is one of mine, and she means well enough… but she’s too slow. I’d like something a bit more grassroots.”
The invisible scenery shifted again. Sarah tumbled face first onto dark rock, almost smacking into a wall. She could feel it as though she were really here, though of course she wasn’t. The echo painted a picture in her mind of a massive cavern with dripping wet walls. Far in the distance was an opening in the cave, surrounded by objects she almost couldn’t believe upon first considering them.
It was a gruesome display—pikes and spears and other weapons, with corpses impaled upon them. Sarah found herself grateful that there was no light here, because otherwise she might’ve had to see the terrible state of those bodies.
There was someone here with her. A figure more than twice her height, its body confusing her mind as much as the entrance in the distance disgusted her. Different types of skin, a strange array of limbs—nothing on this creature seemed consistent. “How about we make ourselves a deal?” He stuck out a claw towards her, grinning.
“How about you tell me where this is.” She didn’t move to take it, though she didn’t step away either.
“We’re Upstream. I guess you’d consider it a… nonphysical space. I’m borrowing your mind while your body is drugged for surgery. Don’t worry, no one will notice.”
That doctor said something about this. Our minds were in the system. Guess she was right.
“She was,” said the stranger. “But forget about the specifics, and focus on this. You know that you face dire consequences if you’re discovered. Don’t worry… I’m not going to tell. I’ve got a soft spot for ponies with a little daring. It’s just… I think you’re living below your station. I think you could be doing more than just… pretending.” He walked slowly around her, circling in the massive cavern. Every time his claws scraped against the floor, or either of them spoke, Sarah got a view of the world around them, almost as clear as if she could see it.
The more she listened, the more she realized that some sounds were better at revealing it to her than others. Some only traveled a few feet, and others went all the way to that awful effigy near the wall. “If you’re going to ask me to sell out the city… Othar, I won’t. I might not belong, and maybe they’d throw me out on my ass. But that doesn’t mean I’d be willing to do the same to them. This space shit is important, I’m not going to ruin it.”
“Well, ‘Sarah’, I’m offended.” The alien put one of its strange paws on its chest, glaring down at her. “You think I’d ask you to betray your new friends? Far from it. I want you to help their cause. Just… more directly than they are. My servant Lucky Break is not half as daring or half as clever as I need her to be. She’s so worried about the Alicorn that Celestia damaged that she can’t see the long-term. We’re going to help her, you and me. We’re going to do what she refuses to do. Push the brave cause of exploration forward, so to speak.”
He reached down, resting one strange claw on Sarah’s shoulder. His grip was vice-like, and he yanked. She stumbled forward a few steps, and suddenly she was standing right before the terrible entrance to deeper caverns. She could smell something coming from that shaft, something even stranger than what her own imagination could conjure. “There are other perks. Forget having to pretend you’re something you’re not. Forget having to get shipped off to war. You know that’s where the army is going, don’t you? Fighting slavers. Pitiful, irrelevant slavers. The real wealth is down here, underground. A full half the minds that swam downstream ended up in the depths. This is where we make Othar a power to be reckoned with.”
“I don’t understand almost any of the words you’re using,” Sarah muttered. “I don’t know why we would be…” She trailed off, shaking her head. This creature knew what she was, and it could reveal her if it wanted. But it claimed she would be helping Othar. “Explain what you want me to do, uh… whoever you are.”
“Discord,” said the voice. “You can call me Discord. And I will call you a friend. Assuming you can do as you’re told.” The world blurred around them, and Sarah was suddenly standing in medical. This time the image wasn’t dredged up from some ancient memory, it was captured in perfect fidelity. She could feel herself lying unconscious in a cot, tucked away in one of the “recovery tubes” near the back of the room. She would probably be kept here for some time, maybe days.
Sarah didn’t understand the “whys” of modern medical science, but she knew some of the hows. Reconstructive cellular therapy could accelerate healing by an order of magnitude, but the drugs were seriously psychoactive. Keep a person out for while they healed, and they could wake up after a few days of sleep with months of recovery under their belt.
One of the little medical orderlies broke away from its resting place, advancing on Sarah’s stall. It moved no different than Sarah had ever seen these act. “Are you going to threaten me? While I’m… unconscious?”
“No,” Discord said. “Hurting or killing you would be a terrible waste. I will not even pretend to do something like that. I’m just borrowing a little hardware.” As he said it, another orderly emerged from the other side of the room, pushing a container meant for transporting these pods. The ponies in the room didn’t even seem to see the robot. Which made sense. Drones existed by the thousand in every city, quietly doing their appointed task. They might as well be invisible to most people.
“You made me blind,” Sarah argued, getting out of the robot’s way even though she doubted she could interact with it here. This was… some kind of vision. It wasn’t real. “Isn’t that hurting me?”
“No.” Discord grinned at her. “I restricted your senses temporarily because there’s almost no light where you’re going. The ones you’ll be visiting live in perpetual darkness. In a way, thestral echolocation will make you a terrible power to be reckoned with. But we have to do something about your smell, or the changelings are going to tear you apart. So it’s back into surgery for you.” He leaned in close, so close she could feel the warmth on her ear. “Don’t worry, that adorable little program you call an AI isn’t going to notice me here. Not until it’s already much too late.”
No one was questioning the drones as they pushed Sarah back towards surgery. There were no alarms either, as she would’ve expected when an AI discovered its machinery was malfunctioning. “Tell me what you want me to do,” Sarah said. “I haven’t agreed to help you.” But she couldn’t hide her interest from this creature. Maybe that was how Discord knew what to offer her. Something she could do to escape captivity, without putting the Pioneering Society’s colony in danger. Something productive, something that would take her on an adventure, something that would let her see strange and exotic places.
So what if she wouldn’t be able to see them with her eyes? This was space travel, after all. And time travel, since in a way she had “traveled” to the future. Escaped her own death. “Oh, and… am I really immortal? If I die doing this…” If she did, that would be a terrible waste of her predecessor’s hard work.
“Immortal? As immortal as the rest of us,” Discord said, shrugging one shoulder. “So long as Equus survives, so do we. That survival might not always be in the form you expect, but it’s the preservation of consciousness and really, isn’t that enough?”
Her cell wheeled through into the automated surgical theater. Another android arrived, carrying a plastic box filled with chilled biosamples. Whatever they were putting in her was alive this time, not simple circuits. “I don’t want surgery if I’m not going to…”
Discord laughed. “What makes you think I care what you want? Though… I would understand if you looked away. I wouldn’t want to watch myself get cut open either, even if I knew I wouldn’t feel it when I woke up. And you will feel it.”
Sarah did look away, though she could hear one of the little biocutters spin up. The high-pitched squeaking lit the entire cubical almost as though her sight had returned. She could see it lifting her tail out of the way, tying it back so it wouldn’t interfere. The drone appeared to be about to cut into the flesh that the tail came from, a part of the body she couldn’t easily name on humans.
“Here is what happens next, imposter Sarah Kaplan. First, you receive this surgery with a few scent-glands. Congratulations, you’re already well on your way. A few days from now, you’re going to wake up. You play along with the tin soldiers until you get your first day off.” The room blurred around them, and suddenly they were floating above a gigantic map. A map of an island, with a huge volcanic caldera in the center and little buildings on the coast. “You will walk here.” The creature pointed to a huge crack running down the side of the volcano, which would prevent most of her climbing. “You’ll know it’s the right way, because you’ll find a care-package of gear I’ve stolen for you. You take it, go as deep as you can. The passkey I’m implanting in your tail will open a concealed superstructure access.”
“Okay…” Sarah stared at the map, taking in its details as best she could. Sarah had a pretty sharp memory, and had become extremely skilled at flash-memorization. It was a useful skill to have when you were a scammer, and needed to remember any minor details about your mark that they might unwillingly provide. “Then what?”
“Then you follow your nose,” Discord proclaimed. “And you don’t get killed. The changelings have a new king, but all is not well in the Prismatic Court. They are on the edge of their own civil war. And if that happens, well… they’d probably be born as ponies next. That’s exactly what we don’t want.”
“Are you ever going to explain what any of those proper nouns mean?”
“Nope!” Discord grinned at her, so wide she could hear it in his voice. “You’ll work it out. And once you do, you tell them about Othar. Let them know there’s a new faction in town with an eye for the stars and no history of war with changelings. I’m sure your little Forerunner will have tracked you down by then… I’ll nudge him along if he’s behind. You can coordinate with Lucky Break if you need advice. Just don’t let them talk you into coming home. This isn’t an opportunity I would give to just anyone.” He leaned close to her again, so close she could hear the reflection of his many sharp teeth.
“Don’t disappoint me, ‘Sarah’. I’m the kind of friend you want—I’m the kind of friend who can make things happen regardless of whether you’re alive or dead. Being my friend could make the difference between whether your next life is on some comfortable O'Neill Cylinder, or cramped in the lightless depths of Equus’s superstructure. Don’t think I can’t weasel things around Harmony—I can. And I will.”
Sarah wanted to respond, but she didn’t get the chance. The vision melted around her, map crumbling to dust and blowing away, and Sarah herself was dumped mercilessly back into oblivion.
Sarah woke earlier than she should’ve. The mind returned only sluggishly when pulled from the sort of cocktails that had kept her under, and lingering residue of madness lurked beneath. She could feel her face against cold cement, and the wind stinking of marijuana and exhaust that had kept her up most of the night. She’d been beaten again—but she had gotten away. She always got away.
But that dream melted into something stranger, a dream of a lightless void, of senses beyond sight, and a creature assembled from the castoffs of corpses, choosing her. A spirit of madness had appeared to her, and given her a way out. Escape from the captivity of Pioneering Society service, if only she would perform a service for it first.
It had to be another dream, right? But as she stirred, she could still feel painful aches in both forelegs, throbbing along with her heartbeat. Her tail hurt even more—that operation had been more recent. And she hadn’t been slated for any implants there. What was worse, it looked like most of her tail had been trimmed back. There was barely enough fur left to cover her flesh, and it looked like it was only what had grown in since the operation. Guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. Lots of operations need you to lose your hair.
Of course, far more relevant to her than the simple fact she had lost her hair—the creature had been real. Discord would help her escape. He’d even given her a plan. The pain just above her rear was all the proof she needed that it hadn’t been an artifact of her imagination.
It wasn’t. A voice came into her mind, distant but still clear. Like an echo from far away. And I’ll be watching. Don’t make me choose someone else.
Sarah rolled over, facing the opening of her little bunk and feeling her ears twitching as she moved. A monitor was beeping in tune to her heartbeat overhead, steady and painfully high-pitched. She was resting in one of the recovery rooms, a tiny square of space with this bed, a hanging uniform, and a tiny shower by the wall. There was no one else with her.
She tensed suddenly, blinking her eyes open. Sarah had been “seeing” the room all around her without her eyes. It was exactly like in the dream, except perhaps not as vivid. The monitor overhead was more annoying in its frequency than it was helpful, so it didn’t show her quite as much as Discord’s voice had done. He was probably doing it on purpose. Teaching me to see this way so I could do his mission for him.
Strangely, Sarah found she wasn’t terribly bothered by the idea of going somewhere that was completely dark. She had expected to visit strange and alien worlds. Being in a new body was part of that, but this perfect little cookie-cutter of a city was a buzzkill in that department.
“Miss Kaplan, please prepare yourself for duty,” said a voice from the single screen. Not a computer voice this time, but someone who sounded like a soldier. “A minor technical glitch extended your time in recovery longer than you were scheduled. As it wasn’t your fault, you won’t be held delinquent. But we need you prepping munitions in garage two. Ask Forerunner if you need directions.”
“Sure thing, uh… I don’t recognize your new voice. I assume you must be…”
“Bianchi,” said the voice. “It’s alright, we’re all dealing with shit like that. You’ll figure it out. Just get your hooves under you and get here ASAP.”
Sarah’s eyes were still adjusting to the bright light. She finally caught a brief glimpse of “Transmission ended” before the screen went dark again. I guess this superpower has some limits. Screens and paper will just be blank to me. These changelings must use braille or something to record messages.
But if Discord was still watching her, he didn’t speak up with his helpful little voice.
Sarah took a brief shower in the offered stall, taking it gentle with her hooves and tail. She could see the faint marks on both forelegs that corresponded to the new implants, but hadn’t figured out how to trigger them yet. Was it a thought, a movement… what did she have to do? There was no one to ask. But she didn’t really need them to take a shower, or to get her uniform on.
I have to play pretend until they give me some time off, she remembered. Just act normal until then. And she would keep looking for alternate plans of escape. From what little she’d learned since waking up, this planet had its own civilization. Maybe she could steal herself a few dictionaries and escape to it. She’d taught herself Spanish in a few weeks—enough to get by. Alien couldn’t be much harder, could it?
This time she did hear the voice again, albeit even more distantly than before. As though the one it belonged to was distracted. You won’t have to learn any new languages if you do what you’re told. I’ve already taught you how to communicate with changelings. You have an encyclopedic knowledge of their scents. You know all their passwords, and their keys. You could be a queen if you wanted. Assuming you were one of them. I don’t recommend it.
So he was listening. He’d remained quiet about her prospective mutiny. Of course I did. I know you won’t be able to resist it. It’s either me or Munitions Supervisor for an invasion. I know which one you want.
And then the voice was gone again.
Sarah didn’t reply out loud—Forerunner would be watching, and anyway she wouldn’t have had anything to say to Discord even if she could talk. He didn’t seem like the sort of person to try and mask obvious lies. If he didn’t think she would have other opportunities for escape, then she probably didn’t.
A few minutes later and she stepped out into another hallway, not all that different from the place she’d awoken her first time. The floor under her hooves was soft, the ceiling was at a comfortable height, instead of towering high above as it had in the medical bay. “Excuse me,” she said to the wall. There was no one around to make that feel awkward. “Forerunner, can you help me?”
“Certainly,” answered a voice from a speaker not far away, almost instantly. There were no screens here, though she understood most AIs lacked avatars. It made them feel more like machines, and less like rivals you needed to be afraid of. “What help do you need?”
“My duty station,” Sarah answered. “I don’t know the layout of this place.”
“Othar habitation corresponds to standard military installation layout C,” Forerunner said. “You are in outpatient. I-45 is the large hallway you are presently facing.”
Dammit. That was probably enough information for one of the pioneering society’s own drones, but Sarah hadn’t spent half her life memorizing any of it. She didn’t even know how to do her job. “I, uh… my memory is real fuzzy, Forerunner. I think I’m still feeling the after-effects of the fabrication.”
“The error rate on your brain was less than a tenth of a percent,” Forerunner said. “You must be remarkably unlucky if what you lost corresponds to mission-critical information. Very well… I will direct you.” A little glowing line appeared on the wall, flashing slowly green in the direction it apparently wanted her to go. “Do you still think you’re capable of performing your duties?”
“Yeah!” Sarah answered, without hesitation. “I mean, I know why I’m here. I want to help. I just might need a little refresher.”
“Very well,” Forerunner said. “But I will monitor your performance. If there is serious degradation, there are steps we could take to attempt repairs.”
“Th-that won’t be necessary!” Sarah squeaked, as they emerged into the large hallway. “I don’t want anyone going back into my head. Once is enough.”
The I-45 was obviously the central artery of the base—there was a set of recessed tracks in the very center, and drones rolled up and down it carrying boxes of cargo. Ponies moved in both directions along the tracks. A few of them glanced briefly at Sarah as she emerged into the hallway, but none more than a few seconds. Her light-blue body with bat wings and huge ears didn’t stand out here as much as she would’ve suspected.
The Forerunner didn’t respond further, though the green line did move to the wall just ahead of her, directing her through dense traffic. Sarah obeyed its instructions and tried not to fall over while she walked, which was honestly hard enough by itself.
She wanted to ask it how the implants worked. From what Dr. Born had said in medical, she could use them almost as well as hands. Fine motor control like that had to require something in her head too, right?
She could’ve just asked right there, but it would’ve worked against all her instincts. Don’t stand out. Don’t make them look at you. You’re just another technician. Just another loyal tin soldier.
She made it to an elevator, and one of the buttons lit up for her. She touched it, and began to rise. At least for a second, before it jerked to an abrupt halt. The door opened again, and another pony entered. Sarah looked briefly up, and saw a soft pink pony that was shorter than she was, though she also had a protrusion of bone emerging painfully from her forehead.
Someone was chasing her from down the hall. There were several older looking males in bright silver… armor? Did Othar have its own renaissance faire?
“Please,” said the pony, expression pleading and desperate as she met Sarah’s eyes. “Get us out of here.”
She’d been controlling her wings so well before. Why were they doing that? “S-sure,” Sarah squeaked, smacking the “door close” button as hard as she could. The elevator shut again.
The pony made her way over, apparently watching Sarah with fascination. She scanned her uniform, sniffing the air curiously. Like she’d noticed something unpleasant, but wasn’t quite brave enough to say. She was also completely naked; the first pony Sarah had seen who had been. “Can you, uh…” She blushed, wings fluffing briefly on her shoulders. The gesture probably meant something, but Sarah didn’t know how to read it. She could understand so very little about these alien bodies. “Ever tried to get away from something you didn’t want to do?” asked the pony, pawing at the ground.
“Yeah,” Sarah answered. “More times than I can count.”
The younger pony’s eyes widened. “Your Eoch is really good! Almost as good as Lucky’s! Are you one of her students? She hasn’t… nevermind.” She glanced nervously at the door, then back to Sarah. “I don’t want those guys to find me. You live here, right? Where can we hide?”
Sarah didn’t have a clue, and she opened her mouth to say so. But the elevator screen had flashed in front of her for a few seconds when she chose her floor. That meant she’d seen all of them. And probably Sarah would have access to more places than those weird silver guys. She lifted her hoof again, cancelling the previous order, and tapping “Mineral Extraction,” the lowest floor. Probably most of it wasn’t even accessible to crew. Those parts that were would be dirty, loud, and unpleasant. “What are you hiding from, beautiful?”
The pony’s tail tucked between her legs, and she shuffled nervously away from her. “M-my name is Flurry Heart, actually.”
“Alright, Flurry Heart.” Sarah kept one hoof up, ready to cancel any orders summoning the car if they came. None did. The Forerunner hadn’t protested yet, or tried to get her back on-course. This is stupid. I’m trying not to make myself obvious. They’re expecting me to help load bullets or something. But that sounded like a job better suited for drones. And anyway, this alien was the prettiest one she’d seen so far. And also wasn’t leaving anything to the imagination.
I should be disgusted, shouldn’t I? Those aren’t human parts! But then, Sarah didn’t have human parts either. She didn’t have a human brain, even.
Maybe other people would agonize over this, and keep themselves celibate and bored for years. It was time to skip right to the excitement.
“You didn’t tell me your name,” said the pony. She still sounded nervous—actually, everything she’d done was nervous. She sounded a lot like the girls Sarah had met on the street with her. Life beat people down—eventually they gave up.
The pony named Flurry Heart. What did that mean? Sarah hadn’t met that many since she had woken up, but all of them had normal names. All of them except Discord’s dream, and the one she said was in charge of Othar. Someone named Lucky Break. This Flurry person had mentioned her too.
“I’m Sarah Kaplan,” she said, though for a split second she almost made the mistake of her real name. “But you can call me Sarah if you want. Shorter.”
“Sar-ah,” Flurry Heart muttered, with obvious difficulty. The elevator had been going down for some time now—longer than Sarah might’ve expected it could. Just how deep was this base? “So I guess you aren’t from Equestria then. Your accent… it sounds like you’re from the Empire. I guess you’re a linguist too.”
“I’m… a munitions engineer,” Sarah said. “But I’m pretty good with words too I guess.” Not this good, though. She thinks I’m not speaking English. Aren’t I? Modifying the primitive sections of a brain so that she thought aliens were sexy was one thing. That made enough sense that she’d been afraid that this process would make her into guys. Apparently not—but would she have known if she was speaking another language? Maybe in the time she’d been just bits and bytes in a computer somewhere the brainiacs had cracked the neurological code at last.
But shouldn’t they know I’m a fraud? If they can just open me up and look at everything inside.
She heard the voice again, so far gone that it almost sounded like one of her own thoughts. Except that what it was saying was obviously no idea of hers.
Forerunner can’t, I can. And I have… less than you think. You aren’t the first pony in this base borrowing Equus’s language processing centers. I can’t afford to waste the time to teach you the old-fashioned way. The civil war might have got itself well and truly started by then.
Sarah tried not to react, she really did. At least Flurry Heart was still talking.
“You humans are all so smart,” Flurry Heart said. “Not that I see very many on my floor. But whenever I sneak away, I find you off doing… whatever the hay munitions engineering is.”
“I’m sure we’re not that smart,” Sarah said, grinning at the pony. “I’ve met some really stupid people, if that helps you. I’ve met people who were so dumb I thought they were part of the scenery. You think it’s awkward to walk in on two people being intimate? Try talking to someone like they’re animatronics and see how that goes.”
The pony didn’t laugh—her ears flattened, and her tail tucked a little more. Apparently that wasn’t the sort of reassurance the bright pink pony needed.
“Well, cheer up,” Sarah said, nudging her gently with her side. She didn’t dare try more—between this pony knowing Othar’s director and her clearly being a native alien, she couldn’t be sure of what their standards would be on physical contact. Apparently what she’d done was safe, because Flurry didn’t react much. “We’re going to the worst part of the whole base! Whatever you’re hiding from, I’m sure those losers won’t find you down here. It’s all power drills and mining bots.”
Almost on cue, the door slid open. An ear-splitting thump shot through the space outside, reverberating through the rock and into their hooves and bodies. Sarah’s ears flattened to block it out, however well that worked. The space wasn’t finished only a few steps outside the elevator—the modular lift was set into bare rock with huge steel bolts, red rust lines trailing away from them onto the stone.
She didn’t see anyone here, just like she’d thought. Only a huge conveyor, leading to various crushers and sorters. The only “people” here were drones, most human sized or larger. The ones designed to operate machines that humans could use.
“You’re right.” Flurry Heart grinned slightly, stepping out of the lift after her. The artificial cave was entirely regular in shape, ripped from the ground here by some tunnel-builder bot. There was suddenly a rock floor under their hooves, with painful chips and bits of gravel scattered about. “This is awful. Nothing like Ponyville caverns at all.”
“That’s because it’s a mine!” Sarah felt like she was shouting, but she didn’t try lowering her volume. “All that stuff up there has to be made somehow! Maybe we can find somewhere further away…” There were piles of equipment not far from the elevator. Inspector’s helmets with headlamps and holes cut for ears. There were lots of other things, but Sarah didn’t know what much of them were, let alone how they worked. She tossed a helmet to Flurry, slipping one on herself. The light switched on of its own accord, brilliant enough to illuminate the gloom just beyond the conveyor.
Many identical shafts, held up with little arches of composite foam every ten meters or so. “Here!” She gestured towards the far end, furthest from the echoing sound of the impact drill.
Flurry Heart followed her, apparently as relieved to get away from the noise as she was. “How do you stand it down here?”
“I… don’t,” Sarah admitted. “But you didn’t give me much time to plan an escape route. With someone like you…” She glanced back, but felt her cheeks getting warmer and immediately looked away again. “Maybe a tropical beach. Some margaritas. There’d be a band somewhere nearby playing some steel drums. Bikinis. Maybe parasailing. Ever been parasailing?”
“Sorry,” the pony muttered, bashful. “I don’t know what that is. We must not have that in Equestria.” She seemed to have recognized some of the other things Sarah said, though her face was so pained and frustrated it was hard to tell which.
At least as they got further away it wasn’t so loud. The square passages were unlit, but they looked safe. There were no collapsed sections or rubble anywhere, just arches made of hardened foam. A little lip of rock seemed to stick out from behind each one, but Sarah neither knew nor cared why that might be.
“Well, what are you running from?” she asked, once it was quiet enough that they could talk without screaming. Her ears relaxed, though she found it was hard for her mind to do likewise. She could still hear the drilling, and still “see” many identical corridors, as though each blast of the drill flashed a light so bright it shone through them all. She could feel which ones had mining equipment in them, and which ended in blank stone walls. “Those silver guys… are you a criminal?”
The pony seemed mildly interested in the cut stone walls. The drills had revealed glittering strata of various minerals, which reflected the light of their headlamps in little rainbows.
“Criminal?” Flurry seemed to tense at the question, but it wasn’t guilt on her face exactly. Pain, more like.
You did something all right. Maybe by accident. Sarah had seen that look before.
“Not right now,” Flurry eventually said. “I just… don’t want to see my parents. The house guard are going to take me back for the solstice. I’d rather… I’d rather not go.” She slumped to the ground, smacking the rock floor with one hoof. Instead of looking pained at the gesture and nothing more, the ground actually did crack where she hit it, with a resounding thump.
“Oh.” Sarah sat down across from her, trying to imitate the way she sat. It wasn’t easy—her body moved that way fine, but her mind didn’t think it should. Not to mention being this close to Flurry was a little distracting. I need to adjust my thinking. I’m too old for college girls. Except that she wasn’t too old anymore. What age even was she? “Well, I wish I had some good advice. My parents were pretty shit, so I didn’t really keep them in my life that long. But most people… it doesn’t seem that way. Feels like their parents at least mean well.”
“Oh, mine mean well.” Flurry Heart looked up, nostrils flaring and ears rising sharply on her head. “Last time I went back it was the same way. They’re trying to capture me again, back in the Crystal Empire. Back where they can control me.”
Who are you? Sarah studied the stranger as she spoke, staring at that horn and wings in particular. Her memory was good, and she’d seen dozens of ponies as she passed through Othar. Not one of them had both. You must be another species. Maybe a… foreign dignitary of some kind. That would explain her own guards, and living somewhere isolated on base.
The pressure was on then. If this went well, Sarah could probably get away with anything. But if she upset some young ambassador, and Othar got into political trouble as a result… They’ll put me in the grinder for sure.
Sarah hadn’t actually heard of living people put back into the recycler once they were decanted, but the Pioneering Society wouldn’t want her to know about that, would they? Maybe I’d just get the chair.
“What are you thinking about, Sarah?” asked Flurry Heart, suddenly staring at her. “It must be something good, if it makes you look like that. How do I get my parents to leave me alone?”
Sarah winced. Don’t screw up don’t screw up don’t screw up. “I think… I think you’re gonna have to do what they want. One last time, I mean. This whole thing seems pretty set up. Maybe they’ve been expecting you for a long time. In my experience, you have to set people’s expectations if you want them to do what you want.”
She stood, backing up a little. She could feel her ears flattening, wings shifting uneasily. If she fucked this up, that little escape plan would be for nothing. I could try to get her to take me. But this whole conversation was only happening because Discord had magically given her the language. If she disobeyed, he could take it back. She wouldn’t be able to keep schmoozing an ambassador if she couldn’t understand her.
“If I were you, I’d go back there, act as nice and perfect as I could the whole time, then wait until the last possible moment. That’s when I’d tell them how much I loved them, buuuuuut that I needed my space and I wasn’t sure when I’d come back.”
Flurry Heart looked thoughtful. “Just tell them? Wouldn’t they try to argue? Or… maybe not even listen.”
Sarah shrugged. “If you wanted to bitch out, you could give them a letter when you leave. Tell them all the same things. Just… expect them to write back. Keep writing them, but don’t even respond to their arguments. You’re a grown, uh… pony. You tell them you’ve made your decision and that’s that. Don’t give reasons or argue—giving someone the reason you don’t want to do what they’re demanding is just inviting them to argue.”
“Yeah.” Flurry Heart grinned. “I think I could do one more trip. A letter. I could write it on the way over.”
“Just… make sure you make it through the whole trip,” Sarah urged. I’m in so far over my head right now. I really hope I’m gone before this explodes. It wasn’t like she was giving bad advice. It was what she’d do. But she was also possibly interfering in the internal affairs of another nation, one she knew nothing about. This was the kind of advice that would be helpful for dealing with humans. “Be as perfect as you can be. You’re putting on a show—convincing them that you’re healthy here. That being here has been good for you. That way once the dust clears, they won’t be mad that you’ve decided to leave. They’ll realize that it’s probably better for you.”
“Oh, yeah. That makes sense.” Flurry Heart beamed at her. “You’re not an engineer, Sarah.”
Sarah stiffened. Well shit. “I’m not?”
“No,” Flurry Heart went on. “You’re one of those… negotiators, aren’t you? The ones Lucky’s waiting on before she makes a big treaty with Equestria.” She leaned in close, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You don’t want Equestria to know about you. Your secret is safe with me.” She winked, then rose to her hooves. “Can you, uh… help me out of here? These corridors all look the same.”
“Sure,” Sarah said, listening to the distant grind of the impact hammer. Then she set off, absolutely confident. “This way.”
The alien had seen right through her ruse in a way the doctors and soldiers hadn’t. But she hadn’t seen through to the truth, so maybe that was alright.
She made it as far as the elevator. “There, I… I think you should go up without me. Those guards might be mad I helped you escape. I’ll take the next car.”
“Yeah.” Flurry Heart nodded back. “Sure thing. Good luck, Sarah. And maybe… maybe one day you can show me what parasailing is.” The elevator doors shut behind her, and she was gone.
Olivia loved her new life. She told herself that every single day, and eventually she would believe it.
Othar’s municipal weather station was the largest single building in the entire city—if a gigantic hollowed-out cloud could even be called a building. As she moved down the production line, she marveled at the complexity of the technology.
For all that she’d taken the natives to have nothing to teach them, she’d been wrong. Weather production was interesting enough that it was easy to see how so many people had devoted themselves to it.
As she walked through the line, she saw their Equestrian contractors—ponies wearing white clean suits that covered up any exposed hair. Cloud production and storage was a sensitive business.
One of them approached her—a willowy stallion with dark fur visible under his white suit. He wore the same “enchanted necklace” that all their contractors kept on them at all times, a tiny computer concealed inside an intricate-looking plastic case sprayed gold.
It was easier if the natives knew as little about the world they lived in as possible, at least until she decided Othar could trust them.
The pony spoke in accented Eoch, and Olivia could get only a few of the words. But then the necklace spoke, repeating his words in a general approximation of his voice.
And in English.
“We are on track for next week’s thunderstorm, Wayfinder. This lightning generator is the most efficient I’ve ever used—we should be able to reach three bolts per minute over the three-hour storm.”
Even the translation sounded immensely proud, though Olivia herself had a little trouble fully understanding the significance of it.
But she tried not to let that show. She beamed at him, the same way she would’ve wanted her supervisor to smile at her when she announced something she’d done well. “Excellent work, uh…” He had a nametag, glued to the outside of his suit. In English, thank God. “Squall Line. Keep it up.”
He saluted with one hoof. “Aye, ma’am!”
Olivia had to resist the urge to smack him. But it wasn’t Squall Line’s fault that Perez had taught all the ponies that.
Couldn’t the damn dragon leave her alone? She’d given her pound of flesh in Othar’s name. By some definitions, she’d died not once but at least four times for the Pioneering Society. How much more do they want?
Olivia spread her wings, taking off and soaring up towards the upper level. There were no ponies up there—it was only ever used to inspect the machines. She could avoid further conversation that way.
She landed on the clouds of the catwalk, feeling them yield slightly as she stepped. There was a way to make clouds solid, so they wouldn’t drift or weaken under high traffic. But Olivia had never really cared to learn it. She didn’t come up here for cloud construction.
The door to Lightning Dust’s office was open.
Curious, Olivia made her way over, slowing a little as her ears swiveled to point at the opening. There were very few ponies who would visit her. Another contract dispute? The damn Equestrians trying to get their pay in bits again.
But Othar didn’t have bits, nor did it have the trade with Equestria that would let them get any.
Olivia had tried very hard not to learn the details, but she’d failed. While Equestria itself had recognized Othar and sworn to peace, a growing faction of Celestia loyalists was making that peace harder and harder to maintain. The secret of Celestia’s fate had gotten out—somehow.
She was surprised by the voice she heard coming from inside. Not Silver Lining, the obstinate leader of this for-hire team of weatherponies. It was Forerunner’s voice.
Speaking in Eoch, so Olivia couldn’t make out most of the words. She could understand the proper nouns. “Emperor’s Soul,” was there, along with “General Qingzhi.” The two nouns Olivia wanted to be furthest from in the whole damn world.
She had ordered all of that created, long ago, when Celestia had first attacked her crew. Now she reaped the “rewards” of that choice. Except that Sun Qingzhi wasn’t taking her orders, not with a civilian in charge.
How did you manage to get up here, Forerunner? I thought you didn’t want the natives to see your drones.
Apparently Olivia hadn’t been as covert as she thought. Lightning Dust sat up from her desk, waving her in with an expression of relief. She seemed so happy to see her that Olivia didn’t even slow down, just made her way in at a brisk trot.
Another pony was standing in the corner of the room, out of sight from the doorway. Or something like a pony, anyway. It was one of the most disconcerting things Olivia had ever seen.
The thing wore a clean suit, just like any other worker at the weather substation. And it had four legs, ending in hooves, with wings at its sides.
But that was where the similarities ended. The face and head were half-formed, particularly around the skull. Where flesh ended, a white composite chosen to match the white fur had been substituted, forming the lower jaw and most of the skull. There were standard service ports along its surface, exactly like the synthsleeve down on the ground.
The pony was carrying something—a pair of worn saddlebags. When it turned its eyes on her, Olivia couldn’t suppress a shudder.
It had one bright blue eye, the exact same color as the vanilla synthsleeve. But the other eye was brown, and clearly organic.
“What the fuck is that?” she asked, her voice halting. “Lightning Dust probably doesn’t appreciate horror movies. Neither do I.”
Forerunner was, as always, unflappable. “My next revision will be better, I assure you.” The voice came from the general direction of the pony, and his mouth moved, but it sounded more like speakers than lungs sending air through a voice box. “I can imitate the natives much better with a full synthsleeve. But synthsleeve ponies cannot walk on clouds.”
He stomped one hoof on the ground for emphasis, grinning at her with a row of perfect, identical teeth.
All mystery of Lightning Dust’s distress vanished. “Aren’t there laws against this kind of… whatever you did?”
Was that annoyance on Forerunner’s face? The pony might be half artificial, but lots of the important stuff was biological. It’s not just an AI anymore. It’s smarter than me. Smarter than everyone in Othar.
“I did no harm to any present or potential segment to create this hybridsleeve,” Forerunner said. “This and the others like it were created without a mind to inhabit them. They’re shells, no different than the cultured meat we grow.”
Lightning Dust rose from her desk, walking past the “big board” of assignments with their magnets. Most of the ponies on that board were Equestrian contractors, but there were a few others. A few members of the Ranger Regiment that hadn’t been able to adapt well to being resleeved.
Lightning Dust’s English was much better than Olivia’s Eoch. She’d somehow managed to learn the language during her time Upstream with them. I wish I could’ve learned Eoch as well. But she hadn’t tried, and it was too late for that now.
“The… Forerunner pony… wants me to visit the Emperor’s Soul. Did he ask you about it too?”
Olivia nodded. “Only about a million times.” Qingzhi wanted a superior. Not a clueless civilian like Lucky, but someone with genuine field experience. Somehow he’d learned about her various operations in the belt, and that on some records she was still the acting governor. Perez again, bastard.
It wasn’t like Qingzhi would expect her to even come on the mission, or to have any input on it. Olivia had never commanded numbers like the 75th’s. She wasn’t really meant to.
I don’t want to go back into that world. They rejected me once, they don’t want me living in it again. You made your bed, Forerunner. Now lie in it.
“Why do you want her to go?” Olivia asked, annoyed. “You know Lightning Dust isn’t going with you. She’s not a soldier.”
“No,” Forerunner said. “But that is not an advantage right now. I have concluded with a high degree of certainty that Othar will be attacked in the next month. It is highly likely that Lightning Dust will be specifically targeted. She must therefore be specifically protected. The Emperor carries our only Class-IV fabricator. It would be a great relief to me and our governor if we knew that she was properly supplied.”
You think you’re going to lose Lucky if her mom gets killed. I see your game. Olivia cleared her throat. “You don’t want to go, Lightning?”
She shrugged. “I… I saw that thing when they were building it. I’m afraid if I see it in the air I… won’t like what I see.” There was guilt in her voice—guilt that Olivia recognized.
She’d seen that expression on the faces of human informants, who hadn’t been comfortable with the conduct of their friends. In some ways they wanted a team like her to fly in and fix things. But on some level, they knew their friends’ deaths were their fault.
Olivia shrugged. “I could go with you. Qingzhi has been trying to get me aboard since they first got airborne. Might as well get the tour. That way he doesn’t have that excuse once they deploy.”
Lightning Dust nodded eagerly. “That… that sounds great.” She trailed off, eyes looking back out the distant window. “You aren’t going to Equestria with that thing, are you?”
Forerunner answered before she could. “We intend to honor Equestria’s treaty. But we have no treaty with Barbary. Its territory will be ours, and its population will be emancipated. The Ceres Proclamation does not permit slavery.”
Olivia stiffened a little as he spoke, ignoring his words as best she could. Forerunner wasn’t making it easy.
“We can fly there,” Forerunner said, walking quickly for the door. As though he were afraid they would change their mind. “The Emperor is nearby. I will inform Qingzhi that you’re coming.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.041 seconds
Total duration
969 users online
2,281,774 hits today, 2,561,572 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
great they either built the spacebattleship yamatto or a shield helimurdercarrier.
it'd be interesting to see what a proper navy could do in equestria though since they might be able to one day sail around the entire ring
Well, someone is keeping busy.
I like that there is still a lot of room for further stories here. It's great that the story never was married to any character in particular. We saw the events unfold mostly from Lucky's perspective, but there are further events and it is just as enjoyable to see them from Sarah's perspective as it would be from Lucky's, Lightning Dusts's, Olivia's, etc.
Based offa the most recent chapter alone, Flurry Heart’s grown to be afraid of Lucky Break.
Starscribe has a knack for writting Discord as a proper trickster god.
Also, what kind of insight has Forerunner to allow him deduce an assassination attempt against Lighting? And are the remaining Princesses aware of It?
You know, eventually this stops being a prologue and starts being act II
8906282
Doesn't take much foresight to know that someone who assassinates the monarch might be a bit hated by the broad populace, especially if she hadn't made herself too popular before that, either.
My oh my Discord is impatient. Finally after 1000 years, the balance of power tipped in his favor and he's like "Screw patience! let's go! let's go! I want to travel thru SPAAAAAACE!!!"
8906304
That really is what it's looking like, not that I'm complaining.
8906338
But Forerunner precised "next month". Why exactly that period? Also, no pony can enter Othar without Forerunner's knowledge and verification.
8906415
Forerunner is in no bubble, it's highly likely it's been spying and deduced what would happen from overheard statements and planning 'in secret' by ponies who don't realize that Forerunner has ears everywhere, and probably abroad too.
ERROR, Starscribe! ERROR!
8906201
Unless the builders were also human.
I've always found it funny how most sci-fi world's operate under the assumption that all members of a single race will be united and get along.
Just found this on the home page. Seems like a great story.
I am definitely looking forward to this.
*sees how many words there are*
THATS A NEW RECORD
8906577
You're in for a treat, my friend. This is one of the best stories on Fimfiction.
8906577
Eh... +300,000 words is impressive, but there's larger stories on this site. The most I've seen (and read) is upwards of 2.5 million and it's still going. Diaries Of A Madman
8906469
I think Starscribe said that the epilogue pretty much is a new arc. Had some more to tell in this universe but didn't want to make sequels. Not sure I understand why, but doesn't bother me. Easier to keep track of.
8906682
Yes, this is correct. Expect this to be as long as one of the previous acts, with its own self-contained narrative.
8906469
Fixed, thanks for pointing that out.
8906682
Feels Like the buildup to a full arc, basically a continuation that helps lead into the conclusion of an "Epic."
Poor Flurry Heart...
"Now, Flurry, you've got to come back to the Empire and be a Princess..."
"But... Humans...!"
"... Court, Nobles, Arranged Marriage..."
"But, technology, and ALL THE COOL STUFF!"
"... Politics, ruling over your beloved subjects..."
"But, Parasailing...!"
8906661
OH MEIN GOTT ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?! THAT MANY WORDS?!?! I AM GOING TO CHECK FOR MYSELF! But first I shall finish this magnificent sandwich i made ;)
And this story and The Maretian as well
8906613
I have read some pretty good stories, so that could be up for debate, but I doubt that.*
Anyways, looking forward to this! As soon as i finish my MAGNIFICENT SANDWICH i made ;)
*Doubt that it will be up for debate.
8906304
Yes, please.
8906922
I wonder if Glimglam would equate hang gliding/paragliding as being the kite. Whoa, deep!
Thing is, when you already have wings, flying by other means just doesn't seem all that exciting- to me anyway.
Oh man an epilogue to be on par with a full act and its own narrative, continued events, and promise of more adventure and exposition? This is gonna be great!
I do like how the story hasn't just ended yet, too - considering the still-immense happenings of recent chapters, I'm only ever more intrigued and excited for more.
I forgot.. , who is Qingzhi and when did he leave Othar ?
And what is Emperor's Soul ? Is it a kind of Castle_in_the_Sky?
Which chapter had mentioned them?
8907938
They haven't been mentioned before. A year has gone by since the events before the Epilogue started. Don't be surprised if events occur you haven't heard of yet. Looking at the Epilogue as a sort of mini-sequel may be helpful. These first few chapters will be introducing us to new people and places that will matter in the terms of the epilogue story.
8907954
Are the Six going to appear at any point of the epilogue?
8907938
Olivia referred to both the Emperor's Soul and Sun Qingzhi as being "created." My guess is that Qingzhi is another AI, created to serve as the brain for some dreadnought that's called the Emperor's Soul.
8908323
Yes, but this story has never been about them, so don't expect them to get whole chapters or be perspective characters.
The con artist as an agent of Discord, I love it.
On the other hand, she might just get killed by Lucky or vaporized by Twilight by the time this initial adventure is over.
Parasailing. It's definitely going to be vaporization.
Interfering in the internal affairs of another nation is what humans have been doing on the ring for a long time, you are in good company Sarah. As long as you don't cause the assassination of Cadence, you're doing better than some.
Bwhahahahaha!
Geeze, maybe there should be.
The Emperor's Soul, you really must be a Sanderson fan.
Alright, now this is the kind of interference in another nation that I can get behind.
The only accurate part of "Happily ever after" is the last word. Tensions among the changelings, Celestia's avengers, complications in the command structure...
Life goes on, and with life comes all the things that make you say "c'est la vie." Hopefully nothing will explode too badly between not-Sarah's advice and Olivia's latest career shift.
I need moooooorrreee
Oh, I want my own cyborg horse! That'd be AWESOME!
So an attack is being made by othar on slavers, and an attack on othar by probably celestia loyalists is coming. Exciting times ahead. Xd I hope we get to see it!
8906244
Gunboat diplomacy at its finest. The spirit of teddy Roosevelt lives on.
8906201
I can't help but feel ponykind wasn't the ones who were out in space. it seems quite evident that they were almost genetically engineered for life specifically on the ring given their high amount of integration with "magic"
It is 8:57 pm here now .
The movie Arrival comes to mind...
"I regret that I have but [five] live(s) to give for my country..."
I lol'd.
You know, the reason I like Discord in this story better than harmony even though he acts like a dick, is because he's a dick.
Harmony is a dick because it's got the self-awareness of a three-year old and literally can't help itself so it's a dick 24-7.
Discord on the other hand, can sometimes not be a dick on those occasions where his dickish impulses are temporarily sated.
9166743
The issue with Harmony is that it believes absolutely that it is correct based on it being within the confines of its programmed parameters. Discord doesn't proclaim that he is correct, just that something has to change.
The issue is that correct and right are different things, factually correct means you have all the facts and they line up into the predicted outcome. Being right is less about the facts and more about morals and ethics. It's about feeling.
Out of Forerunner, Discord and Harmony, only the first two are actually qualified to make "Right" decisions. Harmony is very set in its ways and very likely will never change in the future. It is a rigid construct, Forerunner adapts based on its surroundings, it values the individual conscienceless of its biological segments (the people) and it honours its word with those it respects.
Discord is the ace up the sleeve to break Harmony out of a spiralling cycle of unending quarantine, which he achieved, he's also set to most of the same rule sets that Harmony is, he will prevent damage or destruction of the ring and its systems, but he's more invested in the individual lives of the inhabitants.
i already suspect who is leading those celesta loyalist's
Discord
...invasion? I thought they just fought some slavers?
ohh boy. 'Sarah', meet our resident broken alien princess
Welp, not Lucky Break, but she's still aiming high! Of course she has no idea, lol.
Hm. But she's clever enough to figure it out
Flurry is very trusting, it occurs to me. Always up for new experiences, but doesn't quite have the wisdom to judge if it's a good one.
Lol, the most appropriate reaction ever.
Who is this Emperor?
Dang it, Discord! You said that you were going into semi-retirement! Shouldn't you be off trying to make ai/pony hybrids with Fluttershy or something?
8907954
Is that why Sarah is a female bat pony? Because she is from Gen 7+, not the (formerly) in-stasis Gen 6?