Chapter 2: Awake
I am awake.
Several months have passed. I care not how many, but it’s fairly important.
My power situation has stabilized. My trash collector robot was eventually able to locate my hull and commence cleaning operations. Unfortunately, its little compactor-scoop is very small, and it is limited in ability, so I’ve had to play it safe. It took months of digging before it could even reach my hull to begin clearing; as of about an hour ago, though, I have cleared enough of my hull that I have net zero power gain or loss per day, thanks to solar and the transceiver array. I get down so low I’d have only an hour or so on stored alone each night, though- and my robot isn’t done. Before long, I expect to be on a positive power budget.
I have contemplated having my robot stand back and using my single available mortar to clear ground. While this would undoubtedly be effective, the resultant crater would have significant debris on the bottom, covering my hull- and my robot would be forced to spend months digging around the outside before it could reach the bottom. In the end, it is faster and more efficient to just work it directly.
But the main attraction is that my infiltration factory has finished building my biological body, I know not where- and has deposited the initial charge in the onboard systems.
I connect to my new body even before it is discharged from one of the machine’s two bioreactors. The ejection process goes smoothly, before I rise to my new hooves, having used simulation to work the details of moving around.
I spread my sky blue wings, looking back at them. I did not use simulation to figure how to fly; these wings are too small to hold me up in anything more than a 0.16G gravity field. If the part I did not understand allows me to fly with them anyways, I will not be able to figure out how via simulation. I give them a couple test flaps before I open the hatch to head outside. Unfortunately, I am not able to estimate how much lift I am getting from them; my biological senses are too vague for such detail. However, I am able to compute an 83.74% chance that I am getting significant lift out of them, even with the gentle flaps I used.
But the door to outside is opening. I take a deep breath, trot my way out, and take a look around.
It’s daytime out, but I already knew that. Other than that, I appear to be standing in the middle of the forest.
While the hatch closes behind me, to protect the delicate inner workings of the machine, should I need it again, I scan the trees. It seems… unusual, to me. It’s almost like half the forest is one tree, linked together in the upper branches rather than down low. The other half looks like normal trees. Massive, towering trees, but still normal trees.
I don’t see, smell, or hear anything dangerous, though, so I begin my first order of business: Get far enough away from the machine that, in the event I am discovered by some unfriendly force, it is not. Or vice versa, but I would prefer to lose my body over the machine. The body is more easily replaceable.
Not that I really want to lose either one.
I have been discovered by what I assume is an unfriendly force. This six-legged creature’s growl definitely sounds like a threat. I brace myself to use my entire, overengineered strength. Chances are, I’m going to need it if I’m going to get away from this muscular beast- or defeat it.
Fortunately, it would seem these things hunt alone- and unless I miss my guess, it won’t be able to climb a tree. I should be able to hit them fast enough to effectively run up the trunk and get into the branches. Worst case scenario, I will be more navigable in the trees than it and should be able to easily get away from it in the upper branches. If it tries to follow, its mass- giving it an effective weight not that much different from a Terran elephant- will break the branches right off.
It crouches at me, getting ready to pounce.
I crouch as well, vibrating my muscles to prepare them for the upcoming abuse.
It pounces.
I’m not there. I’m three meters away, slamming into a tree at full tilt, and running up it. I kick off from the trunk, shooting for one of the connecting branches that passes over the thing’s head. I’ll make it without issue.
As a matter of fact, as I consider my path against the trunk, it’s almost as if I experienced gravity going against the tree. Not much, but I can confirm momentum was not the only thing holding me against it for the run.
I hit the cross branch at a dead run, expecting to use only momentum once again. I gallop briefly along the bottom of the branch- interesting, same strange effect- before kicking off from it, directly down on the back of the creature’s neck.
It still hasn’t landed from its pounce when I land on its back, driving the point of a hoof right into the small of its back, where I hope it follows regular terrestrial skeletal patterns. I have medical data left over; unfortunately, all data on genome is lost, so I could not create a human form.
I’m right. My hoof comes into direct contact with the base of its neck, breaking what could only be a spine cleanly in two. Blood spurts as well- but exactly as planned, I kick off of it too, back into the trees. My existing horizontal velocity is more valuable than the vertical I was able to attain from its violently collapsed body; several of its ribs must have shattered under my blow, but that was expected. I slam into the other trunk that connecting branch goes to, and shoot up it again, right up into the branches. This time, I go at a slight angle, striking off a higher connecting branch in order to land, and bring myself to a halt, on the upper surface of the lower one, before looking down at the beast once again.
Yes, it’s dead. Very dead; it seems my blow was actually enough to decapitate it.
I take a few deep breaths, restoring the cellular oxygen levels I had before. While my form does have improved respiratory and circulatory systems, neither of the above are capable of sustaining maximum physical exertion. Maximum sustained exertion is about 93.72% of the peak I just performed at.
I let out a sigh, and look down at the cross-branch I’m on.
… No, that’s experimentation for later. For now, I need to get far enough from my gestation pod that a more technologically-oriented hostile force won’t find it if they find me.
I resume my trek, this time hopping between connecting branches. I must wait for night before I will be able to spot the stars and locate myself in the cosmos.
Oh, and back by my war hull, my trash bot has busted a bearing on one of its tracks. It’s still usable, but I fear I will lose it before I am able to clear much more of my hull.
My next obstacle is a mountainside. However, I am far enough from my gestation pod; I stop here, and begin setting up camp. Tree branches, vines, rocks. Anything I can use to make tools.
… It does appear I can walk casually on the sides of tree trunks, or on the undersides of branches, without issue. In addition, despite being completely flat on the bottom, my hoof works as a universal grabber of limited strength. Stronger than any Terran might have managed with their fingers, though- so no problem for me. I will develop the technologies required to get myself to my hull- or, more specifically, I will develop nanotechnology and use that to simply build the ships I need.
This will take… time. I know not how much, as I have not seen the weather patterns this planet boasts, nor what resources that may or may not be available. I do not yet even know how well the wood I am gathering will burn!
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How many Bolo stories have you read? This one seems different than the Mark XXX and ups that were in use in the final days of the Concordiat-Melconian war.
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I've read a fair few- and if you've read very many of my stories, you'll know I don't use any of the official Bolos (highest is MK XXXIII, as I recall), but higher make-what-you-want marks. And yes, I know the official subspace com doesn't have indefinite range, and is probably traceable... but this is an AU.
On that topic, I'm curious what tipped you off? Pretty sure Bolos were equipped with their own subspace comms for centuries before the XXXIII, visual sensors since the pre-X ones (back when they were controlled like modern tanks), and ridiculous processing capability since the XXIV (The first truly self-aware Bolo mark; Nike, the true first self-aware Bolo, was an experimental XXIII and possessed more processing power/wisdom than the XXIV). Add that their personalities/methodologies varied almost as much as humans... and I'm curious.
I sense a Wall-E scenario...
What the heck has six legs over on presumably equestria?
Do ponies normally have a hoofgrip that strong? I note that Pinkie had to use Pinkiephysics and suction cups to manage that one, but it may just be that she was playing around there.
9468075
That should answer your first question. Mostly.
That should answer the rest- unlike anypony else, you actually have access to the unpublished story this is a re-imagining of. (No, everypony else, it was never longer than a page, and poorly written. You're not missing anything worthwhile.)
For the other, no, ponies don't normally have a hoofgrip that strong. And note that she's not using her hoofgrip to walk on the tree- no, that's her pegasus magic. (Which canonically, I'm pretty sure, isn't that strong... but the fandom seems to like letting pegasi walk on ceilings.) Of course, she's massively overengineered herself with extra strength- and while she left the magical part alone, that may have adapted itself to her physical abilities, making her magic similarly overengineering-strong. After all, pegasus magic is reliant upon physical strength... and interconnected with the ubiquitous pony magic, like the hoofgrip.
9468344
...Waaaaiiiiit... Is it that one I think it is with the 'cats?
The title makes a lot more sense now.
9468371
Yep.