SMP-5N

by Okhlahoma Beat-Down

Pride.exe comes before a fall_quote/end.

"Well, my...large destructive washing machine," Celestia sighed, stepping forward a few feet. I was looking down at her, as per usual. "I suppose thanks are in order. You saved a city, my student, and a Royal Wedding all in one day, brought potential diplomatic opportunities to Equestria, and gave our builders more work to do."
"Apologies." I replied. "I did not consider how flimsy marble walls are to Titanium-A plate 500RPM rotating blades. Hyperion can fix that." Celestia rolled her eyes.
"Hmmph." she grunted. "As I was saying, you have done this country a favour. I cannot think of any way to repay a two tonne, walking mining vehicle, besides a bit of polish and repair-work. And might I ask, why is your eye green?"
"Simple optical sensor replacement. A Hyperion Engineer had it replaced when the first few cracks appeared. As an added effect of depleted-uranium as a filament for an optics sensor, the EMP I can release now has a radiation poisoning effect. I might suggest Hyperion HAZMAT inspects local buisnesses, homes, and dead bodies."
"On it." a voice replied from behind. I turned my upper body 154.8°, and looked to see a pair of men in golden suits, both wearing backpacks, and both wearing helmets reminiscent of the HEV suit developed by Black Mesa and released for public use in 2043. Both men nodded, and walked out down the stairs to begin a massive scan of anything that had received an electrical overcharge. After a moment of awakward shifting by Celestia's Royal Guards and Hyperion Personell, conversation continued.
"So...would you like a clean up?" Celestia smirked, facial expression demonstrating the capability to cause a few soldiers behind to 'hnnng' due to adorableness. I, along with the other loaders (and Constructor), were indifferent.
"Affirmative." replied one of the RPG Loaders behind. "Oiling of joints is also a necessity of function for us. Would tha-"
"Be possible?" Celestia interuppted. "Yes, it would. Alongside a fresh coat of paint, a polish, an invitation to the REAL wedding, my respect, and a debt from Equestria. Are we agreed?"
"Affirmative." I replied. "If it were possible, I would shake your hoof so as the ancient ritual suggests is necessary to seal a deal. I cannot, since I do not have hands. I have mining rotors." Celestia rolled her eyes and laughed.
"At least we have an agreement. Once you've had your polishing, it's best you find my sister. After all, you did promise her that questioning." She had a point; I had promised Princess Luna that I would answer her questions. After being dismissed by Celestia, I was told to follow a rather buff stallion to a metal-work building. Obviously, it had been designed to accomodate chariots, wagons, swords, and shields, but this would likely be the first time the building was home to a huge, mechanical, Hyperion PWR Loader.
"So," the stallion began, showing traces of a Scottish accent as he began to wipe the green blood stains from my plating. "You're an alien robot?"
"Negative." I replied, squatting slightly so the stallion could reach onto the top of my headless torso. "I am not 'alien', at least not in human terms. In your terms, yes: a Hyperion PWR Loader, as well as any other machine with a minor amount of sentience, could be considered 'alien'."
"Wow." whistled the colt, spraying polish onto the pistons in my legs. "Real fancy, then. How many of you are there? I mean, the robots?"
"According to the Hyperion Network, an estimated 9.3 million Loaders are awaiting the order to be sent down to the surface of this planet."
"That's a lot. How can you be sure none of 'em have a screw loose?"
"Pun detected, but question received. Malfunctioning Loaders are usually sparking, stuttering, or shaking in some way. One such unit is a GUN Loader on Pandora. He wishes to be human, an impossible task for machines."
"Kinda figures. But hey, we can all achieve somethin' if we work for it. I spent years in a downtown mining equipment store, before my work was recognised by the castle and I was pulled up to work here. Course, right now I'm talking to the equivalent of a sentient, two tonne pickaxe that talks and kills monsters, so I definitely made the right choice to leave the old shop behind."
"Actually, you might consider these rotors to be the equivalent of a rotary saw that was designed to drill through materials harder than diamond. But yes, your description fits fine." The stallion chuckled quietly, picking up an oil can and pouring small amounts inbetween the gears and cogs that even I didn't know existed.
"But, onto your kind again, how many types of you are there?" he asked. "I saw about 5 different kinds running about making things go boom, are there more?"
"The current Hyperion production line is producing: PWR, GUN, JET, LWT, RPG, BADASS, SUPER BADASS, SGT, HRL-E, and ARR Loader types. LWT Loaders have no purpose, besides cleaning Hyperion city streets and containing weaponry for law enforcement. ARR Loaders are simply the incorrectly produced GUN Loaders, designed to look like 19th Century Pirates. Badass Loader and Super Badass Loaders make things explode many times, and are a good few feet taller than units like myself. Thankfully, Hyperion weapons lockers are not sentient, so no remorse comes when a Loader inadvertently knocks one over."
"Sooo...you're kind of a corporate army?" the stallion asked. "Oh, what some Equestrian companies would do for such power. But, since you'll probably be selling products in Equestria, I assume you'll be flowing the money when talks are complete and agreed on, eh?"
"Affirmative." I sighed. "I wished for no part in killing things, I was simply thrown onto this planet from space after the company had my original, human body killed, and put in the AI core inside me. Then, they did the same to the rest of my family. I have set myself the personal goal to find them all, reunite with them, and then...I don't know."
"Well, I'm sure you'll find all of them." smiled the colt, before he stood up and wiped his hooves on his fur. "Looks like my work's done here. You'll be pride of your corporate army, along with those two identical ones stood outside."
I nodded mentally, thanked the cleaner, and sent one of the RPG Loaders in. I had truly earned some trust.
In a Scottish horse, that compared me to a stick with pointy bits on the end, and I'm now accepting offers from a pony Princess that almost inspired heart-attacks in a squad of highly-trained corporate mercenaries.
I truly am the most mentally defective Loader ever built.

Comments

[subjectdeltapunch]

awesome just awesome.........

[djponyfl]

very good story so far.