Ponies Versus Starcraft

by ambion

Mule vs Mule

The mule is quite a simple machine when we get down to it. While it is not one tenth as adorabubble as the brotoss probe, it is indeed a mechanical harvester.

It is, we could say, a neolithic comparison to the beloved probe. And, like many things backwards and prehistoric, what the mule lacked for in appearance, running time, or even a redundant yet pleasing audio track it made up for in hauling capacity.

Because if there is one fault to the wonderful and wonderous bromigos, it is that they will never invent a shovel. Oh, they might invent a transdimensional warp conduit to move matter at their will (they did), but it would take them a great leap of unusual creativity to create something so simple, so direct in its purpose.

This is probably why they don’t have little gardens around the place, but we are moving off topic.

It is the mule in question here, and what it lacks in esoteric little light shows it makes up for in the razor edged machinery needed to cut and harvest vast quantities of resources in a short time, right up until it breaks down.

Nobody asked it if wanted to do this. But enough of that, for something wicked this way comes.

Darkness shadows swiftness running STOP!

...

The mule, quite oblivious, returned its haul to the designated point and moved back to the mineral line. It had a simple AI, so it thought nothing of being alone at this new outpost.

...

Moving, moving getting closer STOP!

...

Again, the Mule repeated its rounds, ignorant of all things except the directives.

...

Sidle lurking watching waiting WAIT!

Wait.

Wait...

A steel gauntlet none too lightly patted Mulia on the shoulder. Before the marine could open his mouth, several blowpipe darts flew at his face, harmlessly bouncing off his visor.

“What?” he managed in dumbfounded shock. Black clad head to hoof, the mule was already back flipping over him, wrapping her hind legs around his neck in a choke hold.

The heavy suit of power armor made for a weird, awkward moment.

“This is kind of awkward,” he said.

Mulia pouted with uncertainty. “You’re supposed to pass out at this point.” She gave another squeeze with her legs, but she might as well have been trying to choke an advanced and self contained construct of space age materials...oh, wait. That’s exactly what she was trying to choke out. It went about as well as could be expected.

“New around here?” The marine turned, not hindered at all by the assault, to the mule...the mechanical one. This is probably going to cause problems of ambiguity.

It was just sitting there idle, watching the strange fight with its one, unblinking red light. “Go on robot. Get back to work.” The marine made a few shooing gestures, not sure if they helped or not.

It is said that the mules give out and collapse after such a short, productive running time because their power systems are experimental. Let it be put forward that this is merely what is said.

Let it also be put forward that it is not their power systems at all, but the AI running it. AI’s tend towards self awareness the same way a dirty mineral soup on a primitive young world tends towards life.

How would you feel if your first sapient thought was the realization that you were one tiny step up from a dirty mineral soup? And this was, by their standards, quite an elderly mule. Or at least, going by averages, it was nearing that critical moment.

On a separate note, Mulia was nowhere to be found.

In the machine’s fraying cortex of wires and protocols, its shuddering difference engine had seen Mulia and, erroneous or not, seen them as being the same. Seeing her, it realized it could be more than a mineral hauler. It could have purpose, it could have self determination, it could have life.

“Go on, robot, dig. Dig!”

I’m afraid I can’t do that. It didn’t actually say this. It couldn’t, seeing as it had no voice synthesizer - who would impart such a nice, useful piece of technology on a mindless worker bot anyway?

But it was implied quite sternly with the mule’s single. Red. Eye.

In a swirl of dust and shadows, Mulia appeared next to the machine. The marine just watched, unsure of what to do.

“Away with me, into the shadows! You’re new life begins in darkness!” The heavy fwoosh of a smoke bomb washed over them all. When it cleared, the mule of metal was still there. Neither had the marine moved an inch.

The second reemergence of Mulia lost a lot of the style of the first, and she frowned.

“You have much to learn.” Then scowled at the marine, and a second smoke bomb dinged off his head. “You saw nothing. You hear me? Nothing!”

“Come on, yes, no, no! Follow me, come on... this way. THIS way!"

The smoke cleared a second time, and everything was as it had been, bar two mules.

The marine, quite calmly, pulled out a small form he’d been given. It quite simply said: Our Mule has been - and gave a range of boxes to tick, labeled from Very Good down through to Bad.

He tapped the pencil off his chin, or at least the pounds of steel that covered his chin, and carefully filled in the Less than Satisfactory box. After some more thought, he wisely decided to leave the space for comments empty.

Comments

[RedvsBlue327]

[Edragon]

Ninja robot harvester of...life?

[ambion]

1479573

It's over (Hal) 9000!

[Destructorspace]

1479573
I'm sorry, but you've reminded me of Clap-Trap, intergalactic ninja thingie.

Also, I can totally relate to not scoring horribly (after all, it mined tons of minerals before deciding that being a ninja was its destiny). But not putting a comment about it going rogue? At the very least he'll probably have to explain why there's no debris, right? Or does it all evaporate?