What is living? What is conciousness? Where does the line between living and synthetic blur?
When Sweetiebelle learns the truth of her construction she struggles with her own mind. She is alive, she knows it! But can a program truly be alive? Are the feelings of love for her sister and friends real or just a clever combination of ones and zeros? Suddenly the fact that she can never get a cutie mark seems insignificant. With her very conciousness on the brink she sets out to prove she is alive, that a machine can feel love, passion and joy. But with her entire life revealed as a lie can she really trust those feelings any more?
Sweetie Belle's eyes followed the raindrop down the glass, watching as it made its crusade down the window, bumping into other drops on the way. By the time it had finished its journey, it was three times as big as it had started out as. Her eyes refocused as she stared out the window, more drops cascading down to join their brethren. Rarity never let her out when it rained. She had said it was dangerous. Dangerous?! She was in more danger walking to school than playing in a rainstorm.
She sighed as Scootaloo and Apple Bloom splashed around in the puddles outside, kicking water at each other. Dozens of other kids surrounded them, dancing and playing in the rain that poured from the dark grey clouds overhead. A clap of thunder rolled through the air, making some of the fillies jump. Once the deep rumbling had passed, they continued their games, laughter rising over the sound of raindrops on the roof.
Sweetie Belle tore her eyes from the window and sulked over to where her crayons lay abandoned, their bright colours only able to provide so much entertainment in the gloomy interior of her room. With the purple crayon in her mouth, she set about working on her picture, trying desperately to ignore the screams of delight from outside.
With a final scribble, she finished Rarity's slightly off-colour hair. She dropped the crayon, looking down on the two slightly skinny ponies on the page, their hoofs together. One was obviously Rarity, the diamonds on her flank instantly recognisable. The other was Sweetie herself, pink mane and green eyes. She never quite understood why her eyes were green; both her parents and Rarity had blue eyes, so where had the green come from?
She was drawn from her reflective thoughts by a tap at the window. She watched as another small stone pelted the pane of glass that held the water at bay. She trotted over to the window, rearing up on her back hooves to peer over the window sill. She looked down and saw Scootaloo and Apple Bloom waving, beckoning her to come out and join them. Their coats were dripping wet and Scootaloo's eyes were almost covered by her soaked fringe.
Sweetie crept over to her door and cracked it open, peering out onto the landing. She could hear Rarity muttering from her room at the end of the hall. With as much stealth as her hoofs would allow, she darted down the stairs to the shop floor. Rarity's dresses lined the walls, the mannequins that inhabited them staring down at her with disapproval.
Walking past the faceless dresses, she reached the front door, heaving it open with a grunt. The smell and sound of the rain hit her immediately; she had to stop herself from jumping outside.
"Hi Sweetie Belle," said Scootaloo as she ran to the door, Apple Bloom in her wake. "Wanna join us?"
"Hi Scoots. I don't know; Rarity doesn't like me going out in the rain," replied Sweetie Belle
"Why the hay not?" asked Apple Bloom curiously.
"She never says why," said Sweetie Belle.
"I'm sure she wouldn't mind you getting wet this one time," said Scootaloo. "Come on, the water’s great!" She splashed Apple Bloom, who giggled and retaliated with another slosh of rainwater.
"I guess..." said Sweetie Belle uncertainly. Rarity wouldn't have said it without a good reason, although Rarity's views of a 'good reason' were skewed when it came to getting dirty.
"Come on, Sweetie Belle!" cried Apple Bloom as they galloped back into the rain "It won’t last forever!"
Sweetie Belle stared after her friends. It was just a bit of rain, nothing dangerous at all.
So why was she so inexplicably scared?
She raised a hoof to step outside, her leg hovering at the point where the rain began. It was just rain. She wasn't scared of water. Was she?
The truth was, for reasons she couldn't explain, she was scared. She couldn't bring herself to place her hoof in the rain.
"I... I can't. I'll see you later," she said into the downpour as she backed up and slammed the door, leaving two very confused ponies standing in the rain.
**Several days later**
Sweetie Belle watched from the shore as the fillies and colts splashed in the lake, the water glistening in the warm afternoon sun. A large splash sent ripples across the surface as somepony disengaged themselves from the old rope swing nearby. She giggled as Scootaloo sneaked up on Diamond Tiara, who was snoozing on a large inflatable. With a scream, Tiara was dunked into the water, her mane a soaking mess. She glared at the laughing Scootaloo and proceeded to give chase, the two of them scrambling for the shore. Scootaloo reached the beach and legged it towards Sweetie Belle, sand clinging to her sodden coat.
"Priceless!" she chuckled, sitting down on the sand next to Sweetie. "I should probably let her cool off before going back in there."
"Don't you think that was a bit cruel?" asked Sweetie.
"Nah! Look at her; she knows it’s all in good fun."
Sure enough, Diamond Tiara, her mane now ruined, was getting into the spirit of things, taking out fillies with well-aimed splashes of water with a smile on her face. Silver Spoon, her usual glasses gone, was having a hard time recognising friend from foe and ended up sloshing Tiara, who retaliated with a giggle.
"Why don't you like the water?" asked Scootaloo, water dripping down her face.
Sweetie Belle sighed. "I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?
"I just don't know," replied Sweetie simply. "I'm not scared of the water; at least, I don't think I am."
"So why are you so reluctant to get wet?" asked Scootaloo.
"I'm not sure. There’s just something there, at the back of my mind, telling me it’s bad," said Sweetie, her eyes drifting back to the playing fillies.
Scootaloo looked at her oddly before continuing. "To fight fear, you have go where the fear is."
Now it was Sweetie Belle's turn to look at her oddly. "Since when did you become all philosophical?"
"I didn't." Scootaloo shrugged. "It’s just something somepony told me once."
They both turned as they heard a rustle behind them. They stared as somepony failed to be sneaky, his orange rump stuck in the air.
"Snails?" asked Sweetie Belle.
The lanky orange unicorn burst from the bush and ran for the lake where Snips was waiting.
"Sorry, Sweetie Belle, it was Snips’ idea!" he cried as he fled.
"What was Snips’ idea?" she said to Scootaloo. "How much did he hear?"
"I don't like the look of this," said Scootaloo as Snips and Snails started talking to Diamond Tiara. Her smile grew with each word the pair said. She turned to Sweetie Belle, an evil glint in her eye.
"Hey everypony," she cried, "Sweetie Belle is afraid of the water!"
Several dozen kids turned to stare at Sweetie Belle, some of whom giggled and pointed. Sweetie's cheeks turned red.
"Scaredy Belle!" cried one of the fillies. A few others picked up the name and soon it was a chant, the words ringing in her ears as she got up and fled, tears running down her face.
The schoolfoals pointed and giggled as Sweetie Belle approached the school. Whispers surrounded her, the ponies parting to make way.
"Hi Sweetie Belle," came a voice. Apple Bloom fell into step beside her.
"How you doing?" asked Scootaloo as she appeared on her other side.
Sweetie Belle didn't respond; she just continued to stare sullenly at the ground. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo shared a concerned look.
"Come on, Sweetie Belle, don't let them bullies get ya down," said Apple Bloom encouragingly. "So ya don't like the water. There’s plenty of sillier things to be scared of."
"Like clowns!" chirped in Scootaloo/
"Or apples!"
"Apple Bloom, do you ever think of anything else except apples?"
"I live on an apple farm. What ya expect?"
"Quit it girls. I'm not in the mood," interrupted Sweetie Belle moodily.
The other two stopped, their faces falling as their friend walked off. Sweetie Belle was never this down. Most insults just bounced off of her; she had endured enough of Diamond Tiara's taunting to develop a thick skin.
"What we gonna do, Scootaloo?" said Apple Bloom, her voice full of concern. "I've never seen her like this before."
"I don't know. Perhaps we should tell Cheerilee?" suggested Scootaloo, her wings flapping in anxiety.
"I ain't got no better ideas. We'll tell her during break time," said Apple Bloom.
The two of them watched as Sweetie Belle walked into the school building, a cloud of whispers following every step she took.
No pony would even approach Sweetie Belle at break time —to do so would risk association with her and becoming another target for Diamond Tiara.
But that suited Sweetie Belle just fine. She didn't want their words of comfort or prying eyes. She just wanted to be left alone. Even Apple Bloom and Scootaloo seemed to have realised their attempts of cheering her up were useless.
She sat on the bench as the other foals played. Some stood in groups, whispers and strange looks being directed her way. She didn't care anymore. Diamond Tiara had broken her skin and wormed her way into her mind, placing all manner of self-doubting thoughts.
She was scared of the water. Ha! What a weakling; she should just-
"Sweetie Belle! Watch out!" screamed a voice.
Sweetie spun around just in time to see a bucket full of water heading her way.
Scootaloo screamed, but it was too late. Sweetie Belle hadn't seen Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon sneaking up on her, a large pail of water between them. The water came crashing down on Sweetie Belle, who jumped off the bench, her eyes wide in fright.
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo ran forward, Cheerilee in their wake.
Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon lay on the grass, rolling about in laughter. Sweetie Belle just looked shocked, her body still. Unnaturally still— her chest wasn't moving.
They slowed down, approaching Sweetie cautiously.
"Sweetie Belle, you ok?" asked Scootaloo.
Sweetie Belle didn't respond immediately. A cry came from her motionless mouth. It started out sounding like Sweetie Belle, but soon dissolved into a tinny mimic of her voice. The other foals in the yard wandered forwards, watching in horror as the skin around Sweetie Belle's joints started to bubble and hiss, melting away to reveal black rubber. She began to twitch, sparks flying from her newly-revealed joints. The cry from her mouth cut off as she collapsed, her eyes losing their green colour as they turned black.
The surrounding group stood in silence, no one sure what to do. Slowly, Cheerilee approached the collapsed Sweetie Belle. She placed a hoof on the filly's body, rocking her gently.
"Sweetie Belle?" she called softly. When no response came, she turned to the group.
"Snails, run and get Rarity," she said urgently, watching as the unicorn set off at full speed.
She turned back to Sweetie Belle. She had never seen anything like this; it was so advanced. She tapped a hoof on Sweetie Belle's back, listening to the metallic ring it made. Whatever was she going to do?
She jumped back as the still filly beeped, a loud whizzing coming from within her. The group gasped as her eyes flickered into life, their brilliant green colour returning. With a tinny grunt, she lifted herself to her hoofs. Everypony backed away as she swayed lightly. When she noticed the crowd around her, she stared back.
"Apple Bloom, why is everypony staring at me like that?" asked Sweetie Belle.
Apple Bloom's eyes bulged, her mouth hanging open in shock.
Sweetie Belle frowned and moved on. "Scootaloo?"
"B...Bu-..." stuttered Scootaloo.
"Cheerilee?" asked Sweetie Belle hopefully.
Her voice seemed to knock the teacher from her staring. She composed herself, clearing her throat. "Everyone, indoors now!" she cried. When nopony moved, she turned to them angrily. "I said NOW!" she yelled.
The fillies and colts jumped, not willing to risk Cheerilee's wrath to satisfy their own curiosity. Everypony whispered and stared as they walked back into the school.
"Not you two," she said, holding Apple Bloom and Scootaloo back. "I need your help with this," she continued quietly. The two fillies nodded and turned with their teacher to the confused Sweetie Belle.
"Sweetie dear, what do you remember?" asked Cheerilee.
Sweetie Belle raised a hoof to her chin, the rubber of her joints rippling as the motors moved beneath them silently. She thought carefully, trying to recall the last few minutes. She remembered Scootaloo crying out, the splash of water... then nothing. She just remembered waking up with everypony staring at her.
"Um...not much," she replied. "What happened? And why does my voice sound funny?"
Cheerilee looked to the other two, not sure what to say. She barely knew what had happened herself. Sweetie Belle was a Celestia-be-damned machine, one with a level of sophistication Cheerilee had never seen before. How had nopony noticed? Did Rarity know about this, or was this the doing of some external force? Questions flurried around her head; she was sure Sweetie Belle was in a similar position. However, the ramifications of what was said to Sweetie Belle were much more serious.
"Cheerilee, what's going on?" asked Sweetie Belle, concern rising in her voice. "Why was everypony staring at me like I'd grown another head?"
Cheerilee thought about how much more preferable that scenario would have been. At least she wouldn't have had to explain what had happened; it would have been pretty obvious.
"Sweetie Belle, look at your legs for a moment."
"Why do I nee-…" Her voice faded out as she looked at her front legs. She lapsed into silence as she lifted her right leg to examine the black bands of rubber around her joints. She flexed the joint experimentally; it moved with complete silence, just like it had for her entire life.
She swiveled her head around and spotted similar bands on her back legs as well. She felt her neck with her hoof and felt the rise and fall of deep grooves in her skin. She looked at Cheerilee and her friends, fear on her face.
"Cheerilee... What am I?" she asked quietly, her eyes wide as tears formed.
"I don't know," replied Cheerilee softly.
Sweetie Belle fell to her stomach, covering her face with her segmented front legs. Cheerilee looked at the other two and nodded in Sweetie's direction. Slowly, they approached the filly, sobs racking her body.
"Don't worry, Sweetie Belle," started Apple Bloom. "Rarity will be here mighty soon."
"Yeah!" said Scootaloo "Rarity always fixes everything."
Sweetie Belle just continued to cry, the servos of her legs twitching to simulate her body shaking. The two fillies looked at their teacher in despair. Just then, a lanky orange unicorn stumbled into the yard, Rarity close behind him.
"Sweetie Belle!" cried Rarity, rushing over to her sister. She picked up the crying filly, obviously unfazed by the rubber tubing on her legs.
"Snails, inside now," said the teacher, dismissing Snails to the school building. She glared at the windows as twenty sets of eyes quickly ducked down below the sill. She was going to have a hell of a time explaining this to the class. She turned back to the problem at hand as Sweetie Belle sobbed into Rarity's shoulder. The older unicorn patted her sister’s back gently, trying to hush her. Slowly, she untangled herself from Sweetie Belle and reached up to her sister's hair. She reached into the pink and purple mane, Sweetie Belle staring at her.
"R-Rarity, what are you doing?" asked Sweetie Belle, her face streaked with tears.
"Shush now, everything is going to be fine. I’ll explain everything, I promise," whispered Rarity.
With a final shove and a loud click, Rarity found what she was looking for. She removed her hoof from Sweetie's mane and lay her sibling down gently.
"Sleep now, my dear—just sleep."
Sweetie Belle relaxed, her irises dimming until only the faintest green glow shone from her slowly-closing eyes. With a loud beep, her eyes shut completely and she fell limp.
Rarity stared at her sister, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, my dear. I hate to do this to you," she said softly.
"Rarity..." said Cheerilee as she approached, "what is she?"
Rarity looked up at the concerned mare and the two fillies behind her.
"She's unique," she said.
The boutique was dark when Rarity opened the front door. Getting from the school to the boutique unseen have proven to be much more challenging than she had expected, especially with her sister's limp body draped over her back. Many times, ponies had nearly seen her as she darted through alleys and around corners.
With some luck and a huge amount of running, she had finally made it home. She busied herself with lighting up the room, placing Sweetie Belle on a bed of cushions. She passed the dress she had been working on when Snails had burst into the shop shouting something about Sweetie Belle and water. This was not how she had expected the day to play out.
She hurried upstairs and into her room. She dropped down to her stomach and stretched a hoof under her bed. After a moment of searching, she brought out a small blue chest, its gold-edged lid covered with years of dust. She blew on the top, coughing in the resulting dust storm, and made her way back downstairs.
Sweetie Belle looked so peaceful; Rarity did hate shutting her down. It just felt wrong. But the situation had called for it; she was in a state of panic. Who knew what she could have done?
Rarity once again reached into her mane, feeling for the switch that sat upon her head. With a click and a beep, she began to boot up. Rarity sat back and waited, preparing her explanation, not just for what she was but why she never told her. Sweetie Belle twitched, her ears moving back and forwards as she diagnosed any potential problems. When the system was sure everything was optimal, Sweetie Belle opened her eyes, their green glow returning. She looked around groggily as she lifted her head.
"Uh... What happened?" she said slowly. "I had the weirdest dream. There was water and sparks. And I had rubber on my legs-" Her sentence died as she once again saw the black rings around her forelegs. She looked up at Rarity, confusion in her eyes.
"It wasn't a dream, was it?"
"Sweetie Belle…" started Rarity, but Sweetie Belle cut her off.
"What am I?!" she demanded as she stood up. "Why do I have rubber in my legs?!"
"Sweetie Belle!" cried Rarity "I will explain everything, but first, you must calm down!"
Sweetie Belle closed her mouth and sat down on her haunches. Even at a time like this, she knew when to obey her sister.
"I know you're confused. So was I when it happened. I want you to know that no matter what I tell you here, tonight does not change anything. You are my sister, forever and always."
Rarity brought forward the blue chest, opening its lid slowly. "Many years ago, our family went on a trip to Manehatten," started Rarity "I was just a filly at the time; Sweetie Belle had just been born. We were happy." She smiled at the memory. She brought out a photograph, its corners curled with age. It showed four ponies, her parents, a young Rarity, and her wrapped in a blanket, cradled in her mother’s legs.
"Wait a minute, my eyes are blue in this photo!" exclaimed Sweetie Belle.
Rarity smiled sadly. "Yes, Sweetie Belle had the most beautiful blue eyes."
"Had? I'm right here! Why do you keep speaking like Sweetie Belle is a different pony?" cried Sweetie.
Rarity's mouth dropped as she continued with the story.
"We were going out for dinner one night. It was dark. Mother never saw the carriage. It hit her at full speed."
"But I saw Mum the other day! She's fine!"
"Yes, she is. Mother survived the accident." Rarity looked at Sweetie Belle "But Sweetie Belle did not."
Rarity watched as her sister failed to comprehend what she was saying.
"B-but I'm here... right?" she stuttered.
"All in good time, my dear," said Rarity comfortingly "The accident, however, did not leave Mother unscathed. She was left infertile, never to have a foal again."
"Mum can't have foals?" gasped Sweetie Belle.
"Not anymore," replied Rarity "She was shattered, to lose her foal and any chance of healing the wound left behind."
Sweetie Belle looked confused. "So what happened?"
"She was given another chance," said Rarity. "A nearby research facility offered to help her recover what she had lost."
"How?" asked Sweetie Belle,
Rarity sighed and reached back into the chest, pulling out a long roll of blue paper. She rolled it out and placed it in front of Sweetie Belle. The blue paper was covered with a white grid. Upon the white grid was a cross-section of a pony, the writing around the edge detailing the various mechanics that made up its body.
"What is this?" asked Sweetie Belle.
"They're blueprints."
"Blueprints of what?"
Rarity sighed again. "Blueprints of you, dear."
Sweetie Belle looked at her sister in horror, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.
"You weren't born, dear," said Rarity sadly. "You were made."
"NO!" screamed Sweetie Belle, chucking the blueprints away. "I don't believe you!"
"Sweetie Belle dear, please calm down."
"CALM DOWN?!" yelled Sweetie. "HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO CALM DOWN?!"
"Just listen to me!" pleaded Rarity.
Sweetie Belle crouched down on the floor, covering her ears with her hooves.
"I won’t believe it, I won’t believe it..." she chanted.
But it was already too late. The illusion of life was shattered as her conscious mind connected with her subconscious systems, uploading a stream of data to her vision. Sweetie Belle gasped as her eyes became filled with readouts and information. Temperature, humidity, even Rarity's heart rate—it was all there.
She stared at her new overlay, shocked into silence. She sensed Rarity move towards her and felt her hoof around her shoulders. The touch felt different: one side of her mind felt it like she normally did, while the other side merely saw it as a combination of activated pressure points.
"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Sweetie Belle quietly.
"Would you have believed me?" replied Rarity as she hugged her.
"Probably not," said Sweetie Belle.
The two of them sat in silence, not sure what to say.
"I suppose this means I won’t be getting my cutie mark?"
Rarity chuckled. "No, I suppose not. Does that bother you?"
"Not as much as I thought it would," she admitted.
Another lapse of silence occurred, this one much longer.
"Rarity, what about emotions?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do I actually feel emotions, or is it just a program?"
Rarity pondered the question. "I don't know. Dresses are my forte, not robotics."
The word “robotics” seemed weird now—so distant, yet so very close. It bugged her that her feelings may not be her own, maybe her own mind was just a front for a complex matrix of operations.
"So what now?" asked Sweetie Belle.
"Nothing— we continue on as before. You are my sister, forever and always. No amount of programming is going to change that."
Sweetie Belle forced a smile while her mind literally whirred away, worried that her feelings for her sister were as fake as her synthetic skin.
The next day came far too quickly. Sweetie Belle had way too many things on her mind to even conceive going about her life as normal. Yesterday, she had found out she was a hyper-advanced artificial intelligence. Even though some of her functions were pretty awesome, it still stung.
All her life, she had believed she was Sweetie Belle, that there had never been any other. Now she knew there had been another, that she was merely a replacement for a foal who died too young. She wondered what Sweetie Belle would have been like if she was alive today. Would she have turned out like her or something completely different?
But despite the complications, Rarity had insisted, even though Sweetie now knew she could download information directly to her mind, she still had to go to school. How would the others react? Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, would they still want to be her friends?
Of course they would! She was just being silly, over-thinking things. Although...
She was drawn from her thoughts by the clatter on the stairs announcing Rarity's arrival. Sweetie Belle sat at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of her. Apparentlyn her body was made to replicate biological functions such as breathing and blinking. Despite thisn she didn't really need to eat—it was more out of habit than anything.
She grunted in frustration as a chemical analysis of her cereal popped up on her HUD. She didn't really care how much lactic acid was in the milk or the ratio of glucose to sucrose in the small oat flakes, but her subconscious systems did not take heed, continuing to bombard her with rather pointless information.
"Morning, Sweetie Belle, dear. How did you sleep?" asked Rarity.
"I didn't," replied Sweetie Belle simply, lifting another spoonful of cereal to her mouth.
"And why not?" asked Rarity, a frown forming on her face.
"I don't need to. I never did," she said as a small box popped up notifying her that her Enzyme Storage Tanks were at 75% capacity with no malfunctions to report. She dismissed the message with a mental flick.
"Just because you don't need to doesn't mean you shouldn't," said Rarity as she shook her head. "You want to be normal, right?"
"But I'm not normal, Rarity," said Sweetie Belle testily. "No amount of sleeping or eating is going to change that."
Rarity opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it and asked a new question.
"So what did you do all night?" she inquired.
"I was studying my blueprints," said Sweetie Belle dismissively.
She had learnt an awful lot about her construction and function overnight. She learnt that she was charged by sunlight, had built in sticky pads for climbing walls and even a horn-mounted laser for self-defence. She had also been experimenting with her various vision modes and HUDs.
"You really shouldn't dwell on it, Sweetie Belle. Up until yesterday, you had no idea, and look how happy you were! You haven't changed a bit."
"Don't call me Sweetie Belle," she said as she finished her cereal and discarded the digestion progress report.
"Why ever not dear? That's your name," said Rarity.
"No it isn't!" cried Sweetie Belle. "It was her name! I'm not her replacement anymore!"
Rarity's mouth curled downwards. "I never thought of you as a replacement," she said softly. "You are just my sister. Plain and simple."
Sweetie Belle's anger evaporated as tears formed in Rarity's eyes. It had never crossed her mind that Rarity and her parents ever saw her as more than a replacement, something to look and sound like the real Sweetie Belle to fill the hole she had left behind.
"I'm sorry," said Sweetie Belle. "I didn't mean to-"
"No," interrupted Rarity as she wiped tears from her face. "You’re right, you aren't Sweetie Belle. You deserve a new name, one to call your own."
They sat in silence, pondering her new identity.
"How does Pink Sparks sound?" suggested Rarity.
Sweetie Belle shook her head. "Current Cell?"
Rarity smiled. "No, I've got a better one" She scooped up her sister into a hug. "How about Sweetie Bot?"
Sweetie Belle smiled "I like it" she said as she hugged her sister back "Sweetie Bot it is."
"All right then, Sweetie Bot, you have a school to go to," said Rarity.
Sweetie Bot grimaced. Downloading it would be so much quicker.
The school yard fell silent as Sweetie Bot approached, Rarity at her side. They had no way of replacing her synthetic joint covers, so the black rubber lay bare and exposed, signaling to all just how different she really was. A couple of fillies nearby began to whisper, only to stop suddenly when Rarity shot a look their way. Obviously, the Element of Generosity had quite the reputation, even amongst school foals.
Sweetie Bot spotted Apple Bloom and Scootaloo in the crowd. She smiled at them uncertainly. They smiled back, albeit rather forced. The foals watched them all the way to the school. Only once the door had closed did the chatting begin in hushed whispers. Even though they were whispering, Sweetie Bot could make out every word they said as if they were standing next to her.
Sweetie Bot toned down the sensitivity of her ear sensors. She really didn't want to hear what they had to say.
Cheerilee looked up when they entered. Her vitals appeared on Sweetie's vision, the teacher's heart rate had increased significantly and she was beginning to sweat more. It was as if she was-
"Good morning, Miss Cheerilee," said Rarity loudly, always out to make an impression, even when it didn't matter.
"Ah yes, good morning Rarity, and you... um.... Sweetie Belle," said Cheerilee.
"We have some matters to discuss concerning my sister here," said Rarity.
"Yes, yes we do," responded the teacher.
Rarity quickly outlined the story Sweetie Bot had been told last night. The understanding on Cheerilee's face grew as the story unfolded. Once Rarity had finished, Cheerilee sighed.
"You do realise the school foals will not take this as well as I have," said Cheerilee. "I've seen foals picked on for minor differences. I have no idea how they'll react to... well... this," she finished, gesturing to Sweetie Bot.
"I'm no stranger to name-calling, Miss Cheerilee," said Sweetie Bot, her voice back to its usual sweet tone. She had thought it best to freak out her classmates as little as possible.
"Are you sure? You can always come back at a later date and give them time to settle."
"No," said Sweetie Bot adamantly. "I want to do this."
"Well, if you're sure," said Cheerilee uncertainly.
Rarity turned to Sweetie Bot, a smile on her face.
"Don't worry, you'll see they’re nothing to be afraid of. I'm sure things will be back to normal."
With a kiss on Sweetie Bot's head, she trotted off, waving as she walked through the door.
Sweetie Bot watched with a hopeful expression, praying her sister was right. Cheerilee's face wore one of doubt; however this day turned out, it was sure to be far from normal.
Sweetie Bot stared at the board, watching Cheerilee's chalk spiral over the black surface. With her new vision, the world was a much livelier place. Every detail was highlighted to her. She knew everything: the pressure the chalk was exerting on the boards, how many grains fell to the floor, and the fluttering heart rates of everypony present.
The class sat in awkward silence, every single pair of eyes riveted to Sweetie Bot. She could sense every one of them, their hearts beating, their mouths dry. Yet despite the constant stream of data, she was able to focus on Cheerilee's teaching, something the rest of the class were failing to do.
"Children, please, pay attention," cried Cheerilee, startling all but one of her pupils.
"But Miss, I'm scared," said one of the fillies.
"Scared? Of what?" asked Cheerilee, despite already knowing the probable answer.
Sure enough, the filly pointed towards Sweetie Bot, her hoof trembling. Sweetie Bot frowned. This was not at all what she had been expecting. She had been preparing herself for name calling and teasing, but these foals weren't interested in being cruel— they were worried.
"All right, I'm putting an end to this now," said Cheerilee "Sweetie Belle, or Sweetie Bot, as she is now called, is no different from the young filly we all know. Nothing has changed."
"But she's a-"
"Yes, I know, but none of you are to treat her any different. Do I make myself clear?"
Twenty or so heads nodded in response, some more enthusiastically than others.
"Good. Now on with the lesson," continued Cheerilee.
Sweetie Bot watched the blackboard, mentally flicking away the constant notifications that twenty sets of eyes were once again trained curiously on her back.
Sweetie Bot sat on the bench, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo on either side. The silence between them stretched out, punctuated by a giggle from the foals who were playing a safe distance away.
Sweetie watched them resentfully. "Why are they scared of me?" she asked. "What have I done to hurt them?"
"You ain't done nothin', Sweetie Belle… uh, I mean Sweetie Bot. They just ain't used to it yet," said Apple Bloom.
"But I'm still me, aren't I? Nothing changed," she wondered.
"Just give them some time," said Scootaloo. "They'll come around soon enough."
"You think so?" said Sweetie Bot hopefully.
"I know so," said Scootaloo with a smile.
"Well, I don't!" came a voice. The three of them turned to see Diamond Tiara emerging from behind a nearby tree, a wicked smirk on her face. Silver Spoon cowered behind her, obviously not sharing her friend's confidence.
"What's that supposed to mean, Tiara?" said Apple Bloom.
"You really think they'll come to accept her? Look at her! She's a freak, a hollow tin can," she said smugly.
"It isn't tin" said Sweetie Bot quietly. "It's actually a titanium-chromium alloy."
"See?" continued Tiara. "A freak! Do you really think she sees you as friends? Machines don't have friends!"
"Of course they do! We're her friends!" cried Scootaloo.
"Pah! When was the last time you saw a toaster with emotions? To her your just bag of meat, a life form to be scanned."
"That's not true! Tell her Sweetie Bot!" cried Scootaloo.
Sweetie Bot remained silent. There was a harsh truth to Tiara's words. Sweetie Bot didn't know the origin of her emotions. She desperately wished them to be real, that they weren't just a program running somewhere inside her artificial head.
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo faces fell as Sweetie Bot dropped her head.
"Ha!" cried Tiara "See? To her, you’re just worthless!"
Sweetie Bot started to shake, her servos twitching. Tiara could insult her—she didn't care about that. But no one insulted her friends.
"But look on the bright side," continued Tiara, "at least the Cutie Mark Crusaders now have a permanent member!"
Sweetie Bot jumped from the bench, her body trembling with rage. Whether this rage was real or artificial, she didn't care. She had had enough. She stepped towards Diamond Tiara, her eyes narrowed.
"Go away," she said.
"Or what?" said Tiara dismissively. "You going to spark some more?"
Sweetie Bot took another step. Silver Spoon squeaked, her tail between her legs as she fled.
"I said go away," repeated Sweetie Bot.
Several fillies had approached the two of them, marveling at the standoff. They all gasped as Sweetie Bot's eyes slowly dimmed, turning from green to blood red. Her HUD was a blaze of warning lights, telling her to back down. Diamond Tiara, obviously unfazed by Sweetie Bot's red eyes, stood stock still.
"No," she said simply.
Sweetie Bot started to circle, her red eyes trained on Diamond Tiara. Tiara followed suit, moving like a shark going in for the kill. When Sweetie Bot reached the tree, she stopped.
"I won’t ask nicely again: go away," she said menacingly.
"Oh, come off it," said Tiara. "You think your powerful and all that? Just because you can't feel doesn't mean you’re invincible"
Sweetie Bot turned away from Tiara and faced the defenseless tree. It was relatively young, only having recently reached half its full size. Sweetie Bot's x-ray mode gave a quick diagnostic of the tree interior. It didn't stand a chance.
Sweetie Bot lowered her head, the tip of her horn inches away from the tree trunk. With a hum her horn started to glow a deep ruby red, the light illuminating her face. The sound grew in volume and pitch until it was beyond everypony’s except Sweetie Bot's hearing range.
A light on Sweetie's HUD flicked from red to green. With a high-pitched whine, a red beam flew from her horn, striking the tree directly. The ponies backed up as the bark began to crack violently, the red glow emanating from inside. The wood groaned as it stretched, its limbs cracking along their entire length. With a final crash the entire interior of the tree was vaporised. With nothing to support, it the tree fell, its shell collapsing in on itself with a faint whoosh!
The red glow faded as Sweetie Bot's eyes returned to their original green, any trace of red gone from her irises. She looked around with a smile. Tiara stood in shock, her eyes wide with... fear? Sweetie Bot looked around. No one was cheering her on for putting Diamond Tiara in her place. For standing up to the bully. They all wore the same expression.
Diamond Tiara was right— they would never accept her. Not just because she was different.
Because they were terrified of her.
She looked to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, looking for support. Both of them were looking back at her, their eyes filled with doubt. They weren't sure if who they were looking at was their friend anymore. Discovering her true identity had changed her.
And she didn't like it at all.
With tears streaming down her face, she ran from the school yard, her shocked classmates behind her.
Sweetie Bot's bed rocked with every heave of her artificial lungs, the covers soaked with nearly every ounce of water she had to spare. Had the discovery of her real self really changed her that much? Before yesterday, she could never have imagined threatening a pony like that. What was wrong with her?
And then there was the fact she didn't even know if she felt sorry about it. She could feel sorry, but whether that regret was real or not annoyed her no end. Could a machine develop feelings of its own? Did she really love Rarity and her parents, or was her subconscious system just running a program to fuel the illusion of consciousness? Nopony knew. At least, nopony in Ponyville.
She lifted her head from her hooves. Nopony in Ponyville. But what about in Manehatten? Could her creator, her father tell her more about her emotions? Did some engineer many miles away have the answers she was seeking? It seemed like a long shot; he may not even live there anymore. For all she knew, he had died by now, his knowledge with him.
Was she willing to do it? To travel halfway across the country to find a pony that may not even be alive? The answer was yes, to say she loved somepony and to know beyond a doubt that she meant it. That it wasn't her mind trying to convince her it was true; she was defiantly willing to do it.
But how to get there? The train was the obvious choice, although how inconspicuous would she be without her joint covers? The black rubber wasn't exactly subtle. She supposed she could wear a cloak of some kind, as long as she was careful only the engineer would know of her true identity.
She jumped from her bed, ignoring the impact report that appeared on her HUD. Time was of the essence— a quick data search showed her that the next train to Manehatten left in approximately 23 minutes. If she was quick, she could pack her bare essentials and be on that train in time.
She ran to her closet, plucking her saddlebag from the bottom. Throwing it onto her back, she grabbed a few things she wanted to take. First was a photo of her and Rarity with their parents. It had been take on a trip to Saddle Arabia; she could still remember the blistering heat of the afternoon sun, a temperature her database now told her that had reached 35 degrees Celsius. Next was a small bag of bits she had been saving; she had been planning to take Rarity to a fancy restaurant in Canterlot for her birthday, but now it would be used for her train fare.
With a final look around her room, she headed for the door. She didn't need clothes, now that she could turn off her temperature sensors at will. She looked at the bed, remembering the many nights she had slept there as Sweetie Belle, each memory captured unnaturally clear in her data banks.
She closed the door behind her, making a mental list of the things she still needed. A handy list appeared on her vision; at the top, it said 'Blueprints', just in case the engineer didn't have his own. Next, it said 'Photograph'. She remembered seeing a picture of her parents with a rather wiry pony in Rarity's chest. If her hunch was correct, that pony was her creator. Without an address to find him at, that photo was her only hope. The last item on the list was 'Cloak'. She knew where Rarity stored her fabric; it was just a matter of quickly cutting a piece big enough.
She set off down stairs, ready to gather her equipment. The blue chest stood where it had been the previous night, its lid closed once again. With a heave, she pried it open and peered inside. There were her blueprints and the photograph, just as she remembered. She reached in and lifted them out, placing them in her saddlebag.
Now her cloak— the black fabric sat on a shelf on the other side of the boutique. She scrambled over, her HUD telling before she got there that it was out of reach. She looked around and spotted a chair up against Rarity's work station. She placed her hooves against it, pushing it along until it was lined up with the shelf.
She climbed up, reaching the fabric with ease. She jumped back down to the floor and unrolled the cloth, its dark black weave perfect for what she needed. She powered up her horn, guiding a low power laser across the fabric. The smell of burning threads wafted past her face, demanding a combustion analysis from her subconscious. She ignored it.
Throwing her saddlebag onto the floor she placed the newly-cut cloth on her back, fashioning a crude cloak and hood from the dark strands. It was by no standards a masterpiece, but Sweetie Bot was going for functionality over form.
With her saddlebags replaced on her back, she was ready. She had fourteen minutes to catch the train. If she turned her ear sensors up enough, she could hear it clicking along the tracks many miles away.
She scribbled a note for Rarity; it would be cruel to leave without any explanation. With a sigh, she opened the door, fresh air drifting in from the sunshine outside. Rarity would be devastated, but she would understand in time why Sweetie Bot had to do this.
With a soft click, she closed the door behind her, leaving nothing but a note and some singed fabric to say she had ever been there at all.
The shop was quiet when Rarity entered. She had expected to find Sweetie Bot home from school. She was anxious to know how it had gone; foals could be testy at the best of times. She walked into the boutique, frowning as she sniffed. The smell of burnt fabric lay gently in the air. Had she left something on the radiator? She didn't think she had, she was due to do her washing today.
Shrugging off the smell, she continued to her work station. Sweetie Bot was probably with her friends in that little clubhouse of theirs. She frowned again; why was her chair by the shelf? She could have sworn she hadn't put it there. Wait, what was that? A small piece of parchment lay on her desk, the curly type upon it was recognisable as Sweetie Bot's. Why would she leave her a note?
With trembling hooves, she picked up the letter, her heart turning cold before she even began to read it.
Dear Rarity
I know you love me; so do Mum and Dad. Even after what happened to the original Sweetie Belle, you still treated me like family.
But unfortunately, I cannot say the same for myself. While I feel emotions, I am doubtful of their validity. How can I live my life saying I love you when I cannot say whether it is true? To return your love with hollow emotions feels wrong.
So I have set out to find out more about my own mind. Am I just a clever program? Can I ever develop real feelings? I have so many questions—questions you cannot answer. Only one pony in Equestria can. I know you would never have let me go; you must understand why I am doing this, for you and for me.
I do not know how long I will be gone—it could be days or weeks. Just know that I will come home. I would never leave you like this if I did not feel this had to be done. Hopefully, when we see each other again, I can say 'I love you' and know, deep down, that I mean it.
Your sister,
Sweetie Bot
Rarity's tears became fiercer with each line she read. She hadn't realised how important this was to Sweetie Bot. How could she? Her emotions were as sure as eggs are eggs. She had never seen things from Sweetie's view. To have your entire consciousness created in a lab—of course she was going to doubt it! How had she not seen it sooner?
"I'm sorry, Sweetie Bot," she whispered. "What have I done?"
The train conductor looked suspiciously over his moustache as Sweetie Bot handed over her ticket. A young filly dressing from horn to hoof in a black cloak getting onto a train alone? He tried to think of any laws that prevented this kind of thing. When none came to mind, he begrudgingly ripped the ticket partially down the middle and allowed her on board. She sighed with relief. She hadn't counted on the possibility that they might not let her on the train alone.
But she was on, the way forward was clear. She was shaking with excitement as she made her way into the rear-most carriage. Here she was, on her way to answer her most frustrating questions. It was both intimidating and liberating at the same time.
The carriage was mostly empty; only a handful of ponies sat this far back in the train. She made her way down the aisle, smiling at the ponies already in their seats. They looked at her cloak oddly, but smiled back all the same. Halfway down the carriage, she sat down on an empty seat, putting as many rows between her and the other passengers as possible. The fewer questions they asked, the better.
She peered out of the window, expecting to see Rarity come charging round the corner at any second. Her hoof tapped the window frame nervously as she counted down the minutes until the train departed. She watched as a small unicorn colt approached the conductor, his ticket held out ready. With another suspicious look, he ripped the ticket, hustling the colt onto the carriage.
Sweetie Bot watched as he appeared at the end of the aisle, looking around for an empty seat. His eyes lit up as he spotted the empty one next to her and made a beeline for it despite passing several empty rows along the way.
As he approached, she got a good look at him. His coat was a light grey, the colour complimenting his dark purple mane, which stuck up in numerous messy spikes. His eyes were a pale shade of blue that looked at her expectantly as he spoke.
"Um… do... you mind if I sit here?" he asked, his voice had a very faint nasal quality as if he had a cold despite it being summertime. Maybe he had hay fever?
She nodded silently in response. He beamed and sat down beside her, placing his large saddlebags beside the seat. They clanked with the sound of heavy metal. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was about the same age as her, or the age she would have been if she actually aged; her body simulated growth in a similar fashion to living ponies.
He caught her staring and she quickly looked away, her cheeks filling with pink pigment. He offered a hoof to shake.
"Hi, I'm Bolts," he said cheerfully.
She took the hoof, shaking it gently with 3.26 Newtons of force as her system kindly reminded her.
"I'm Sweetie B..." she tailed off it wasn't wise to use her new name around strangers, it might draw unwanted attention. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to finish.
"Sweetie Belle" she said "My name is Sweetie Belle."
"Nice to meet you, Sweetie Belle," he said with a smile. "What takes you to Manehatten?"
She pondered the question, wondering how to answer with as few lies as possible.
"Just visiting an uncle," she replied. It was close enough. "What about you?"
He looked down shiftily, placing a hoof protectively over his saddlebag.
"Same," he replied. "Just family."
She knew he was lying. What was in his saddlebag? She decided it was best not to pry.
The two of them lapsed into silence. With a jolt, the train jumped into motion, the clicking of the wheels on the tracks becoming faster and faster, as strong and steady as a heartbeat. Ponyville raced past; she spotted the Carousel Boutique. She gave a mental farewell as the town was replaced with fields and trees. She watched Sweet Apple Acres zoom past, gone in an instant.
Within minutes, Ponyville was behind her, the mountains that stood between Ponyville and Manehatten looming miles in the distance. It was going to be a long trip.
The train’s lights bloomed into life to fight back the semi-darkness outside. The sun was gone, blocked by the snow-capped mountains that towered on either side. It had taken the best part of an hour to reach the base of the frigid peaks, the sun sinking slowly below the distant horizon.
Neither she nor Bolts had said a word since their brief exchange at the station. It was a companionable silence, each with their own thoughts. However, soon after passing into the mountains, she found herself out of scenery to look at; the cold stone varied little along the side of the track.
She turned to Bolts, ignoring the fact that his eyes darted away as she looked at him. She smiled, desperate to form a conversation.
"So where about in Ponyville do you live?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't live in Ponyville," replied Bolts. "I'm from Fillydelphia. Ponyville was my line change."
Her ear sensors perked at the sound of the glamorous city. She had never visited the East Coast; she had only heard the occasional story from her sister’s exploits there. She was intrigued to hear what it was like to live there permanently.
"What's it like live somewhere so big?" she asked.
"Oh, it’s great," he said with bitterness in his voice. "Everyone is so happy in their suits and ties. Banks are big business, you know!"
"Oh..." was all Sweetie Bot could manage. She had obviously stumbled on a sore spot.
"I'm sorry," he said as he noticed her crestfallen face "Me and Fillydelphia don't have the best of memories."
Deciding to steer the conversation another way, she inquired about his parents.
"They're good folks," he said fondly. "My Mum owns a flower shop in downtown Manehatten; Dad works in a bank, so we're pretty well off."
"That's nice," commented Sweetie Bot.
"Yeah, nice," he said distractedly. Shaking his head, he turned back to Sweetie Bot. "So what about you?"
"Well, I live with my Mum and Dad, although I visit my sister Rarity a lot."
She watched as Bolts' mouth dropped.
"Rarity? As in the Rarity?"
"Um... How many Raritys are there?" she asked uncertainly.
"As in the Element Bearer, friends with the princess Rarity?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess," she said. She had never realised her sister’s name was such a big deal outside of Ponyville.
"That's so cool!" he cried. "What about the Princess?"
"Twilight? Oh, she's good. I see her a lot"
Bolts stared at her in admiration. She fidgeted under his gaze. He blinked, looking away quickly.
"So what do you-" Sweetie Bot placed a hoof to his mouth as she lifted her head. She could have sworn she heard something, the sound barely distinguishable from the clacking of the tracks. Bolts looked at her from around her hoof. She removed it, smiling for him to continue.
He looked at her oddly, but continued. "What do you do in your free time?"
"Free time? Well, I generally hang out with my friends. We're trying to get our cutie marks."
'Their' cutie marks, she added as a slightly bitter afterthought.
"That's cool," he said, looking down at his own blank flank. "Maybe I could join you sometime?"
"Maybe," she said vaguely. She knew she had heard it this time. It sounded like hooves; probably someone in another car. It sounded strange, though; they had a distinct echo.
"You seem kind of distracted. Everything all right?" asked a concerned Bolts.
"Hmm?" she said, shaking the thought from her mind "Oh, yeah, I'm fine, just thinking things over."
Bolts was obviously not convinced, but let it drop.
There it was again! She was sure she heard it this time. It was closer, coming from above her. It sounded like hooves, but who would be walking on top of a train at this speed? She cycled through her visual mode, finally setting it to X-ray. She gasped as she saw the four ponies standing on the roof, each clad in a tight fitting black outfit.
Bolts looked at her, confused as to what she was looking at.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked.
"There are ponies on the roof!" she said. "Four of them."
"Ponies on the roof?" he puzzled. "How do you know?"
"Trust me, I know," she said.
She watched as one of them leaned over the side of the car, something rectangular in his hooves. With a thud he stuck it to the side of the train. A few deft movements later and the box started to beep loudly. She didn't need to be a soldier to know what that block was.
Another quickly dragged the companion back up. They moved to the other side of the train, holding onto the handles that sprouted from the train top.
She flicked back to normal vision, looking back at the visibly worried Bolts.
"What's going on?" he asked shakily.
"We're being hijacked," she said, the words met with a look of wide eyed terror. She grabbed the colt, pulling him down to the floor.
"I want you to hide under here, all right?" she said. He nodded silently "I'll come and get you when its safe."
She pushed him underneath the seat and stood back up, smiling at him encouragingly.
Then, with as much power as she could, she shouted at the other passengers.
"Everypony down, now!"
They stared at her, not sure what to make of the raging filly.
"Please! There a bomb on the car!" she yelled.
The adults chuckled, mumbling something about over-active imagination. Sweetie Bot groaned, there wasn't much time left, the bomb could go off -
She slammed into the wall as a blossom of heat ripped the side off the carriage. Several ponies went with it, their screams lost in the howling wind that tore through the car. Those that had been lucky enough to stay in the car backed away from the gaping hole, their eyes wide in confusion.
Sweetie Bot watched as the mountain outside the carriage gave way to a deep canyon, its level bottom covered in snow that reflected the newly risen moonlight. With the sound of hooves on metal, she watched as the first figure appeared at the top of the hole, his eyes searching the carriage.
He spotted her almost instantly, beckoning with his hoof for his comrades to join him. Within seconds, the four of them had climbed down from the roof, facing her. The centre right unicorn stepped forward. His words were muffled by his head gear and the howling wind.
"Please don't resist, we mean you no harm." he mumbled.
Sweetie Bot looked at him sceptically. They had just blown out half a train car to get to her. ‘No harm’ indeed.
When she made no move to come quietly, the unicorn nodded to his companions. With four different colours of magic, they unstrapped rifles from their backs, clicking off the safely as they levelled the barrels at Sweetie Bot.
But Sweetie Bot was way ahead of them. Her HUD flashed manically as her systems planned out a method of attack. The fact that her system was doing this of its own accord was slightly concerning. Within seconds, her HUD was filled with a multitude of dotted lines and symbols. Sweetie Bot smiled.
She knew exactly what to do.
She hung her head low, approaching the forward unicorn in apparent defeat. Surprised at her sudden surrender, he lowered his rifle, reached into one of his pouches, and brought out a pair of reinforced hoofcuffs.
With his rifle down, she took her chance. With a powerful kick, she launched herself up, slamming a metallic hoof into his jaw. He cried out, dropping his rifle and the cuffs as he clutched his mouth. The others stepped back, the attack temporarily surprising them.
At the apex of her jump, she stretched out a leg, engaging a sticky pad as it connected with the roof. She shifted her weight, swinging to build her momentum. With a loud sucking sound, she detached from the roof, flying over the group to land heavily on their left.
Now she had an advantage; the train was a lot narrower, only allowing two of them to get a shot at her. Since one of the two closest ponies was still holding his jaw, only one could retaliate. She lowered her head, pointing her horn at the pony. Its tip lit up, red light pouring over the car. She braced herself as the beam fired, hitting the pony right in the chest. It wasn't enough to kill him, but he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.
With two of their team down, the remaining attackers were being more cautious. They had taken cover behind nearby seat, their rifles pointing over the backs. Sweetie Bot looked down at the bottom of one of the seats; she could see Bolts, his face wide with both fright and awe. Beyond him was the hooves of one of the soldiers.
She motioned to him and the pony behind the seat. He looked at the pony and nodded. Silently, he reached for his saddlebag with his magic. Sweetie Bot was surprised to find it hadn't moved since the entire fiasco had begun. Whatever was in it must be incredibly heavy.
Bolts lifted something from the bag. It looked like a brass corkscrew, its point razor sharp. With a nod, he positioned it above the stallion’s ankle. Sweetie Bot charged her horn for another attack.
With a yelp, the stallion jumped up as the corkscrew was driven into his leg. At the same time, Sweetie Bot unleashed the blast, sending him spiralling into the corner where he slumped unconscious.
She smiled her thanks at Bolts, her smiled turning to a grimace as a bullet rammed its way into her leg. She screamed, her voice becoming tinny and cracked with the volume. The last stallion ducked down, his rifle ready to fire again. Sweetie Bot threw herself into cover, artificial pain searing up her leg.
Her HUD flashed red as a diagnostic appeared, nothing was damaged, but the bullet was wedged in her elbow hydraulics. She tested her front leg; sure enough, her elbow only moved a few inches, the mechanics meeting the bullet with a screech. She could deal with that later. She would prefer one bullet in her than several.
Her mind was distracted by a loud groan from the surrounding carriage. She heard bolts popping from their slots as the car slowly tipped to one side, the hole now peering over the edge of the canyon. She slammed her good hoof down, the stick pad holding fast. Bolts grabbed the chair support, holding on for dear life as the floor gradient got steeper.
With a final snap, the car connector broke, the car ploughing off the cliff towards the white snow below. Was this to be how it ended? To finish before it truly began? She couldn't imagine what would have happened if she had stayed at home. Would these attackers still have come for her? Who were they, anyway?
But now it seemed all her questions would go unanswered. As the carriage plummeted, its passengers screaming in terror as they fell, Sweetie Bot thought of her sister. She said she would come home. She wished she could keep that promise.
With a deafening crash, the car struck the ground, its frame ripping open and spreading in all directions like a gruesome flower. Bolts was lost from view as her vision left her. Literally. She heard her eyes land in the snow nearby. However the sound alone was not enough to form a trajectory path.
She was blind, lost and alone, the snow pouring relentlessly from the sky, already starting to cover the ruins that surrounded her.
Sweetie Bot pushed herself upright, stumbling a bit on her damaged leg. The world was black; only her hearing gave any sense of location. Everything was quiet; all she could hear was the crackling of flames and groaning metal. She began to walk forward, trying to put as little weight on her leg as possible.
With no hoof to spare, all she could do was hope that she stumbled upon her eyes. Until then, she was practically defenceless should one of the attackers have managed to survive the fall. As she stumbled on, she pondered their identity. They obviously weren't police or guards trying to take her home. Were they somehow related to her construction? She would have to ask when... if she got to Manehatten.
She stopped suddenly, her ear sensors straining. Something, somepony was shuffling in the snow. Whether they were friend or foe remained a mystery. Deciding to take a chance, she called out, hoping to locate them.
"Hello? Who's there?" she called, her voice echoing out over the snow.
"Sweetie Belle?" came a familiar voice.
"Bolts! You’re alive!" she cried, joyous to have someone here with her.
She heard his hoofsteps muffled in the snow. The sound came from behind her, or so she thought; the echoes made pinpointing the sound difficult.
"Where are you?" she asked.
"I'm behind you. What's wrong?" came his voice.
I can't see. I need help."
She turned around, facing where she thought he was.
"It's fine. I'm here, no-Ah!" he cried.
"What?! What's wrong?!" she asked.
"Y-Your eyes! They're gone!" he stammered.
Sweetie Bot sighed. She hadn't considered that Bolts might get freaked out at a pony with no eyes.
"Sweetie Belle, why are your eyes missing?"
"It's a long story. Can you just help me find them? I'll explain everything once we get out of this cold."
"Um... Ok," he chattered. Even without her eyes, she could tell he was freezing.
She heard him shuffle off into the snow, his teeth chattering loudly. After several minutes he called out to her.
"It's no use, the snow is covering everything too quick. They're buried by now!"
Sweetie Bot pondered the situation. She may not be directly connected to her eyes, but there may be some leftover link. She searched her data feed, scanning it for any link to her missing visuals. At last, she found what she was looking for. It was faint, only strong enough for one command. Luckily that was all she needed.
"Hold on a second" she said, the signal departed, commanding them to light up faintly "There you go, try and find them now."
"Ah, there!" he cried triumphantly.
She heard more shuffling as he began to dig through the rapidly thickening snow. While she might not feel the cold, she was sure Bolts was. It would not be long before it got too much for him.
"Got them!" came his cry.
She turned to his voice, presenting her empty sockets.
"All right, now there should be a plug at the back. Just line it up and we're good to go!" she said.
"Oh, interesting connection choice. VGA would have been my preference, though I guess HDMI works just as well."
She frowned. "You seem to be familiar with this."
"Oh me? Just a casual interest, that's all," he said.
She felt his hooves on the side of her face as he inserted the cable from her eye into the gaping socket. With a flash and a few relieved beeps the vision in her left eye returned. She saw Bolts' confused face, his grey coat tinged blue with cold as he slotted the eye into place with a click.
"Didn't think I'd be putting someponies eye back into place today." He grinned.
"And I didn't think I'd have my eyes put back in," she said back with a smile. "Speaking of which, put the other one in, will you? Seeing the world with one eye isn't pleasant."
She watched as he got to work replacing her right eye. Once it was inserted and functioning, she looked around her. The train car was in ruins: wheels and charred metal were strewn everywhere. A few dwindling patches of flames cast shifting shadows over the wreck, illuminating the bodies nearby. She didn't need her system to tell her their hearts were no longer beating.
She tore her eyes away, looking back to Bolts. She was amazed to see his saddlebag across his back, its contents apparently undisturbed. He also had another saddlebag behind it, one that was familiar.
"Hey! My saddlebag! You found it!" she cried.
"Oh, this? Um... yeah, I suppose I did," he said.
She grabbed the bag, throwing it onto her back with a well-practised swing. Now where? She knew for a fact that they were closer to Manehatten than Ponyville by now. Besides, the only way back was up the huge cliff they had come down. Unlike her, Bolts didn't have stick pads.
Bolts sneezed behind her. His body temperature was falling fast. With a faint whoosh, he collapsed, his body shaking violently. Sweetie Bot looked around. She had to get him out of this cold. She ran to the train wreck, grabbing a loose piece of metal in her teeth. With a screech, she ripped it free, laying it on the ground to form a makeshift sled.
She looked further down the canyon. It was their best bet of finding shelter in this frigid wasteland. She lay the shaking Bolts on the cold metal, his eyes fluttered faintly. He was alive. For how much longer, she couldn't say.
Her system could, unfortunately. In his current situation, he had just under an hour and a half to live.
She began to carve a path down the canyon, the freezing Bolts pushed along in front of her, their tracks disappearing almost as soon as they were made.
It was slow going as they trekked through the snow. With Sweetie's damaged leg, they moved much slower that they should have. The moon was high in the sky by now, its light pouring over the snow as they walked. The canyon walls were crooked and irregular, sometimes narrowing to merely a foot, other times opening out to wide clearings.
It was in one of these clearings in which they found shelter. Sweetie Bot cried out in relief the moonlight illuminated the cave mouth in the wall. With renewed energy, she raced forwards, the sharp wind cutting off as they stumbled inside. The cave was relatively big. Her eyes scanned the walls, reporting that they were a 2:1 ratio of granite and limestone.
She turned from the walls to tend to Bolts. She was hesitant to touch him, lest her metallic skin stick to his. His entire body was convulsing as he shook violently. Icicles hung from his nose and his fur was coated with a layer of frost.
"S-ss-sso... c-co-ld," he stuttered weakly. Hypothermia was setting in now; all she could do was try and warm him up.
But first, she needed something to burn. She could have sworn she remembered seeing some sickly-looking trees a little while back. Would they be enough to fight back the cold? There was only one way to find out. She helped him off the sled, leading him deeper into the cave away from the howling wind.
"All right, you're safe now. Just stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can," she said, turning to walk back out into the snow. She felt Bolts touch her hoof and she looked down at him.
"T-th-ank... you," he said. She smiled at the shivering colt.
"Don't mention it," she said as she stamped back out into the cold, the sled in front of her.
She slowly made her way back, squeezing through a particularly tight spot with some difficulty. Her leg was still causing her problems. It made walking awkward and her manoeuvrability was severely compromised. She cried out as she lost her footing, diving head first into the snow to a depth of 0.54 metres.
She dislodged the snow from her face, lifting herself to her hooves with one leg. She didn't even need to look for her system to point out the crooked trees, their bark black and cracked with cold and wind. They were just taller than she was, their branches reaching desperately for the lip of the canyon.
She walked on, approaching the small group of sunken trees. With a quick scan, she knew they should light; their moisture levels were about 34%, just low enough to start a fire. She placed a hoof upon the weak trunk of the nearest tree and began to push, its bark snapping as it leaned closer to the ground.
With a final shove, the tree toppled, Sweetie Bot falling with it. The canyon filled with sharp echoes of the cracking tree, reverberating off the cold stone slopes. She set to work, breaking down enough of the sickly twigs to last the night. Her system ran rough calculations, estimating about 8.46 trees to last until 8:00 am that morning.
Sweetie Bot broke down ten just in case.
With the final tree down, she began to arrange them on the sled, their branches scraping the snow. She was almost finished when she heard it. She wasn't sure what it was at first, its sound drowned in the wind. But as it got closer, it became much more recognisable.
Wingbeats.
With her unneeded breath caught in her throat, she fled to the edge of the canyon, hoping that whoever was flying overhead would neglect to examine the canyon. The moonlight shifted as the flyer... flyers came overhead, blocking the moon. She peered up, hoping she was sufficiently hidden.
The flock of pegasi glided overhead, their wings struggling in the strong wind. Their mission must have been of significant importance to fly in such dangerous conditions. She gasped as the lead pegasus was illuminated, his familiar black outfit shimmering.
This was obviously the search party, sent to assist the ponies who attacked the train. They were looking for her. She watched silently as they carried on down the canyon towards where the train wreck still glowed faintly. It would take them little time to realise she wasn't there. Then they would search the only place she could have gone.
The cave was not the safe haven they had hoped for. They had until morning at the latest until they had to carry on. With a heavy heart, she watched the last pegasus depart. she walked in the other direction, the firewood before her as she made her way back to what she had thought would keep them safe.
Bolts was in slightly better condition when she returned. He was sitting up, still shaking, but awake. His eyes lit up at the sight of her, a smile spreading over his frozen face. She unloaded one of the trees, breaking it into pieces to form a fire. He watched her, his eyes following the powerful movements of her motorised legs.
She knew he was staring, but she didn't mind. She owed him an explanation. He struck her as the kind of colt whose curiosity was not easily satisfied.
With a reasonable pile of wood sitting on the floor, she pushed the rest away, not wanting it to fall prey to any embers that may escape. With their supply safely out of the way, she set about lighting the fire, her horn illuminating the cave with red light as it charged. With a sizzling beam, the fire sprung into life, its warmth rolling over them.
Sweetie Bot turned back on her temperature sensors. Heat may not be essential anymore, but it still felt nice. With a sigh, she joined Bolts, leaning up against the cave wall. They were silent for a moment, watching the fire light run across the walls. Bolts asked the first question.
"So what are you?" he asked uncertainly.
She sighed again; she knew no matter how long she 'lived', answering that question would not get any easier.
I'm a... well... a robot," she said quietly. The words sounded stupid.
Bolts, however, didn't think so.
"I've never seen technology so advanced. Did Rarity create you?"
Sweetie Bot laughed at the idea. "Rarity building a robot? I don't think so. I don't know my creator. This is all I have of him."
She reached into her saddlebag, bringing out the worn photograph of her parents and the wiry-looking pony. She handed it to Bolts, who examined it closely.
"Wait, I know that guy!" he exclaimed.
"You do?!" she said, her excitement peaking.
"Yeah! He's Professor Ruttlebridge, the ex-leader of the Manehatten Institute of Engineering," he said cheerfully.
Sweetie Bot couldn't believe it. The only pony to survive the fall was the one who knew how to find her creator? It was amazing! It was-
"Wait, did you say ex-leader?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, handing the photo back "He was dismissed after an incident with a fellow lab worker."
"What kind of incident?"
"No one knows. He took it pretty hard, though. Never invented again, so they say."
Sweetie Bot looked down at the pony in the photograph. His grey mane was messy and unkempt, the strands leaning over his glasses. His eyes were bright, sparkling over a wide grin as he stood next to her parents. How could somepony like that fall so far?
She would have to ask him. Now that she knew who he was, finding him would be so much simpler. Drawing her thought from her creator, she turned her attention to Bolts’ saddlebag. She was still intrigued to know its contents.
"So what about you? Your 'family' would be expecting you in Manehatten by now, wouldn't they?"
He shifted uncomfortably.
"That obvious, huh?"
She nodded, smiling to let him know it was fine he had lied; she hadn't been entirely truthful. He brought his bag forward, flipping open the top. The interior was bulging with an assortment of metallic contraptions of the like Sweetie Bot had never seen before. Springs and gears lay riveted to thick brass plates in complex patterns. She picked one up and examined it; it looked like a miniature steam engine strapped to a handheld whisk.
"I like inventing things," he admitted, staring fondly at the bag of contraptions.
"So why are you going to Manehatten?" she asked curiously.
"My dad doesn't like my inventions," he said sadly. "Think I should be working in a bank rather than a lab."
He paused, picking up another contraption and turning it over in his hooves.
"So I decided to go to Manehatten to show the Institute my work. I could start living there, work where I wanted to work."
He sighed, placing it down gently.
"Then this happened," he said, smiling at her sadly.
An idea popped into her head. If those soldiers came in the night, she was no use if she couldn't move.
"Could you help fix my leg? You know, ‘cause you’re an inventor and all that?" she asked hopefully.
His brow creased. "It depends. I'm not that good. What's the problem?"
"Bullet in my hydraulics," she said, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. "It doesn't hurt, but it’s jamming the system."
"I don't know. I can have a look," he said.
She offered her right leg forward, presenting the wound. This was her first real look at the hole the bullet had made in the metal plates of her leg. It was black around the edges, the metal buckled inwards slightly where the bullet had entered. The hole itself wasn't very big which was something.
He examined the leg, peering into the hole. It was slightly weird to think about somepony else looking at her insides without an X-ray. He mumbled as he began pressing at points down the side of her leg, feeling the almost invisible joint at the back. Finally, he pulled back, sighing.
"Well, the good news is that both the shell and interior are unharmed. The bad news is that without disassembling your leg, I can't get the bullet out."
With a pop, the shell disengaged, the gaps between the two halves of her leg widening as one side removed itself. He raised an eyebrow as she giggled.
"Well that's useful" he commented as he took the shell in his hooves and placed it gently on the ground. His eyes widened in awe at the interior of her leg. It was filled to the breaking point with all matter of motors, hydraulics and sensors, all connected with thick bunches of cable that disappeared up her leg and into her torso.
"It's a miracle nothing was damaged," he gasped as he spotted the bullet. The brass case was wedged between the casing and the piston rod, blocking it from extending its full length. He reached into his bag, pulling out a large pair of brass tweezers. With shaking hooves, he reached in, grabbing the bullet carefully. He wiggled it from side to side, trying not to damage the rod as he extracted it.
With a slight grind of metal he pulled the offending object out of her leg. He sighed as he held the bullet up to his eye.
"That's quite the shot," he said admirably. "That's a 45mm round you took to the leg."
Sweetie Bot flexed her leg experimentally, watching the hydraulics move smoothly along their tracks. To see her working laid bare like this was unnerving, like watching someone dissect a heart. It made her feel all the more distant from the real ponies of the world.
Bolts caught her distant look as she stared at her exposed leg.
"Is it weird? Seeing your insides like that?" he asked.
"Slightly," she admitted. She was lying. Slightly didn't even cover it.
"Well, I think you're amazing," he said as he replaced her leg cover. She looked up at him, catching the blush in his cheeks as he looked away quickly. She smiled at him.
"Thanks, Bolts," she said quietly.
"Don't mention it, Sweetie Belle," he replied.
"Call me Sweetie Bot," she said.
He smiled. "Sweetie Bot. I like it"
They lay back up against the wall, side by side as they watched the fire, its embers spiraling into the dark as they slipped into empty, dreamless slumbers.
Sweetie Bot was rudely awoken by a loud internal bleeping. She groaned as she sat up, her systems complaining at her obnoxiously. With a disgruntled flick, she addressed the warning on her HUD. Her stomach dropped when a large battery appeared on her vision, its red outline flashing dangerously.
She was almost out of power.
She had never run out of power before. Horrible scenarios filled her head, each ending in her shutting down forever. Her subconscious tried to comfort her by telling her she had three hours of battery life left. In no way did it help. She felt her lungs replicate hyperventilation, not that it had any effect on her.
No. She could recharge; it would be fine. She tried to slow her breathing. When it didn't work, she just turned off her lungs, trying to conserve power. With her fear somewhat in check, she turned to her right, looking down on the slumbering Bolts. His chest rose and fell gently, his face smiling peacefully. It was strange that she envied him, to be able to produce his own energy. She was more akin to a plant in that respect.
She had thought it best to not tell him about the pegasi she had seen. The poor colt had been through so much; she needn't worry him about her problems. Once she was sure he was okay, she lifted herself up, her newly repaired leg relishing in its unhindered movement. The hole it had left behind was small, but noticeable, its black rim in stark contrast to her pale skin. She had completely forgotten about her cloak, which must have been lost in the fall. How was she going to walk about Manehatten unnoticed? Could she or Bolts procure another garment for her to wear? She shook her head. They weren't out of the woods, or in this case, canyon, just yet; they would cross that bridge if... when they got there.
She wandered quietly over to the entrance, examining the sky for any signs of the pegasi. The sky was dark and cloudy, the sun largely blocked. The low light levels would do little to help her power. It would also mean more snow. It had subsided for the moment, but it was sure to return in full force.
Thoughts of energy and cold brought a more pressing issue to mind. What would Bolts eat? Unlike her, he did need sustenance. She hadn't brought any, and by the looks of his bag, neither had he. Her leftover bits were of little use out here. They could melt snow for water, but without food, he would quickly perish in the -19 degrees outside.
She hoped they weren't far off; their situation was looking bleaker by the second.
Her ear sensors perked up as Bolts shifted behind her. His breathing became slightly more rapid as his mind arose from sleep. She turned around just in time to see his blue eyes open, their lids heavy with sleep. His eyes were a lovely shade of blue, much like her parents’ and Rarity's. And Sweetie Belle's.
It was funny. Sweetie Belle was feeling more and more like a long lost sister than a false identity. She wanted to meet her, to see how she would have lived the life Sweetie Bot had been given. The life she had given her. Whether Sweetie Belle knew it or not, Sweetie Bot owed her her life, a debt she would carry for the rest of her unnatural life.
A quick scan showed her he was okay given the circumstances. He was hungry and dehydrated, but alive. For now, they could be grateful for that.
"Morning," he said around a large yawn. "Gosh, I'm thirsty," he said, holding his parched throat.
Sweetie Bot walked over to the sled, grabbing the corner with her mouth. With careful movements, she managed to tear off a small rectangle, which she promptly placed on the ground. With a grunt, she slammed her hoof into the metal, its tarnished surface bending to form a makeshift bowl.
Pleased with her handiwork she took the bowl outside, shoveling the powdery snow into it. With a short blast from her horn, the snow melted, leaving a fair amount of fresh water. She lifted it carefully, trying not to spill it as she placed it in Bolts' hooves. He nodded gratefully as he lifted the freezing liquid to his lips, drinking deeply.
With his thirst sated, he got to his hooves, yawning again. He shivered as a cold draft blew in from outside. The fire had been burning all night; Sweetie Bot had made sure it was kept alight. Despite its warmth, though, the frigid air still found its way into the cave.
"Don't suppose you've got something to eat?" he asked.
"Sorry, I don't—don't need to eat and all that." she replied.
"Oh well." he said, trying to play it off. "I wasn't hungry, anyway." He looked at her sheepishly as his stomach grumbled in disagreement.
"There won’t be any food ‘til we get out of these mountains. Perhaps a farm nearby would be willing to help us."
"Or if the worst comes to pass, I'm sure there are some bears around here," he said.
She looked at him oddly, raising an eyebrow at his suggestion.
"What?! I'm just saying!" he said defensively.
Shaking her head with a smile, she prepared to head out. She didn't want to linger any longer than they had to. With no protective clothing for Bolts, they decided the best way of keeping him warm was to move as quickly as possible. She would carve a path through the snow and he would follow closely behind.
With the sled filled with all their spare firewood, she set out, pushing her way through the thick snow, the chilling wind causing her to turn off her temperature sensors. She felt sorry for Bolts; the cold would be torturous for him. They had to move quickly; it was not apparent which would get them first: the pursuing pegasi or the blistering cold of the northern wind.
Their pace was noticeably faster than the previous nights, mostly due to the lack of 34 mile-per-hour winds ripping at their faces. They had subdued to a much gentler 16. The canyon still towered over them on either side, its slopes climbing up above them. Snow drifted down, the fine powder settling on their manes in thin white sheets.
While still cold, Bolts was in a much better position: he had managed to direct some magic into creating a weak protective shield around himself. The faint green barrier helped keep some of his body heat contained, if only a little. Despite this, though, he soldiered on, his legs working to clamber over the snow.
Sweetie Bot was also pushing forward, albeit with quite a struggle. Not only did the sled keep catching on loose rocks, but her batteries were running lower than ever. The effort of pushing through the snow was taking its toll on her power; she wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer.
As if sensing her thoughts, her front leg seized up, causing her to fall forwards, slamming into the snow. She cried out, the sudden jarring movement taking her by surprise.
"Sweetie Bot!" cried Bolts as he ran forward to help.
She pushed herself up, her leg now tauntingly loose as she rose out of the snow drift, her mane plastered. She shook her head to dislodge the snow as she tested her leg. It was fine now—no grating of joints or seizing hydraulics. The system diagnosis came back with only one possible problem:
Power Failure.
Her body was shutting down its systems one by one to conserve power. The less important ones such as meteorology and vital scans went first, followed by the major programs until power was all but gone. She ran down the list to see which programs went last. Near the bottom of the list, one of the last systems to be disabled, was her Battle Sequencer.
The fact she was programmed to fight to the very end was disturbing enough. What shook her even more was the system that sat below it in priority: her Consciousness Matrix. If her power ran to such low levels, her entire mind would be shut down to fuel a battle program with no morality. Her entire body shook with the thought.
Why would an artificial filly need to keep a Battle Sequencer running over its consciousness? Is a Battle Sequencer really an integral part of a filly? Unless... unless it wasn't meant for the filly. What if...
"Sweetie Bot? You all right?" asked Bolts, knocking her from the consuming thoughts that now surrounded her original design. She shook her head again, focusing back on Bolts with a smile.
"I'm fine. Don’t worry about me," she said falsely.
She began to walk on, the sled in front of her. She had walked several feet when she realised Bolts wasn't following. She turned back, looking at the dubious expression on his face.
"I'm not stupid, you know," he said. "Something's wrong with you, but you won’t tell me what."
"I said I'm fine," she repeated.
"That's what they all say, then ‘BAM!' next minute you blow up or something."
She looked at him incredulously before turning away.
"If you won’t tell me, then can you at least show me?" he asked.
She sighed. He wasn't going to let it go; he was as stubborn as a mule—not that she had anything against mules.
"I'm going to take that as a sigh of submission. Do you have a UI I can access?"
In answer to his question, she opened a small panel on her left side. It contained a miniature screen, which showed a simplified version of her HUD, including the large flashing battery icon that filled a quarter of the screen.
His eyes widened as he examined the screen.
"Oh dear" he mumbled "This is very bad news indeed."
"You think?" she replied with a hint of sarcasm.
"How long can you go on for?" he asked.
"I've got about an hour and a half left," she said, the short time sounding like a death sentence.
"But you charge with sunlight, don't you?"
She raised an eyebrow at him before pointing to the dark, cloudy sky.
"Yeah, and the sun is really shining today, isn't it?" she said harshly.
Bolts looked away with a frown. She felt her irritation drain.
"I'm sorry, Bolts. I'm just cranky, I guess," she said.
"That's okay. You ha-" be started.
She stopped him mid sentence. She thought she had heard something: the faint sound of rocks shifting, but she couldn't be sure; her hearing was toned down with the power saving procedure. She looked around, the canyon walls raising up, multiple rocky outcrops sticking from the wall.
Silence descended on the canyon; the only sound was Bolts' laboured breath as he, too, strained his ears. Then, with a terrifying roar, the outcrops came alive. Ponies jumped from above, ropes trailing behind them as they brandished weapons of various sizes. Spears, swords, axes, all glinted in the weak light. With several heavy thuds, the attackers landed in the snow, surrounding them completely.
They were a rag-tag bunch, all wearing a wide assortment of clothes. Some wore thick fur coats, while others only wore some shorts and a bandanna. They reminded Sweetie Bot a lot of pirates from films she had watched. The bandits smiled evilly as Sweetie Bot braced herself to fight. She couldn't take all of them—her power was too low—perhaps she could distract them long enough for Bolts to get away?
"Bolts," she whispered, "when I attack, you run. Forget about me; get out of here. You understand?"
He nodded silently, too terrified to argue.
With a hum, her horn blazed into life. The bandits frowned, not sure what the little filly was doing. Somepony her age shouldn't have any sort of offensive magic. With a flash, she hit the nearest pony with a laser blast, knocking him backwards into the canyon wall with a crack, blood seeping from the back of his head as he looked around dazed.
The others stood in shock. They hadn't expected resistance. Unsure of their foe, they looked at each other, waiting for somepony else to attack first. Their hesitation was all she needed. She ran forward, dropping to her back and sliding across the snow. She sailed through a bandit’s leg, coming to a halt underneath him. With the snapping of ribs, she kicked upwards, sending him flying.
She jumped to her feet. The others, not waiting for any more attacks, began to advance, their weapons at the ready. She gave the area a quick scan. Twelve of them in all; Bolts was nowhere to be seen. At least he was safe.
One of the bandits jumped forwards, his bulky frame carrying him forwards as he swung the heavy axe in his mouth. Sweetie Bot raised a leg to block it, the impact jarring her hoof. It jarred him more, though, causing him to drop the axe as his teeth were forcefully ejected from his mouth.
He cried out, clamping a hoof to his mouth. She took the opportunity to bring a hoof to his head, knocking him to the side. She watched as the remaining attackers began to spread out, hoping to get behind her. The Battle Sequencer buzzed loudly as it calculated any advantages she could get. It highlighted a patch further up the canyon wall. She smiled.
She fired a relatively weak laser blast. The bandits laughed as it completely missed, sailing way over their heads. They began their approach anew, oblivious to the snow now tumbling down upon them. They barely had time to call out before three of the bandits were buried.
She cried out as she felt rope encircle her back legs, pulling them out from beneath her. She fell heavily into the snow, her HUD flickering with the impact. Her estimated battery life had gone down from an hour and a half to barely forty five minutes. She couldn't risk using her laser again.
With a mighty pull, she wrenched the ropes, pulling the pony holding them down. With the ropes now loose, she got back up, only to be knocked down again as a large stallion barreled into her. They tumbled around, struggling to gain the upper hand. With a spray of sparks, her left leg gave in, allowing him to pin her to the ground.
He sat on her chest as she pushed, trying to dislodge him. He was a heavy stallion; his eyes were covered by a thick brown mane. With a draining heave, she shoved him off, dumping him in the snow. Her HUD beeped wildly; her power was all but gone. She felt her body slipping into a power saving state.
She stumbled away, try to flee. It was no use; sensing her weakness, the others drove her to the ground, wrapping ropes around her legs. She was powerless to resist. She slumped as they heaved her up onto one of their backs and began checking on their fallen comrades.
She hoped Bolts had got away; then her sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. Maybe he would send help? She didn't want this to be the end; she had really taken a liking to the quirky colt. His face appeared in her mind, his cheeky smile and mischievous blue eyes watched her as her mind faltered and began to fade, slipping into a deep, simulated sleep.
The first thing Sweetie Bot noticed as she awoke was the swaying. It was a gentle, side to side motion, accompanied by the squeaking of wooden wheels. Sweetie Bot didn't move, instead allowing herself to collect herself. She watched as her HUD displayed itself on the inside of her eyelids, reporting her condition.
Everything seemed to be in order: her batteries were charging, so she must be out in the daylight somewhere, and all systems were nominal except for a sensor in her lower right leg; it seemed the force from the bandit's axe had dislodged it. It was relatively small, however, and posed no problems to her.
With her systems all working correctly, she set about mapping her surroundings. She could feel a thick metal grating beneath her, the 97% iron bars at least 6 millimetres in diameter. She could sense somepony next to her, their breathing slow and calm. She couldn't tell whether her company posed any threat.
With apprehension, she slowly opened her eyes, the apertures behind her lenses constricting to focus on her surroundings. She saw the metal bars rise up in front of her, forming the side of a sturdy cage. Green hilly plains rolled past under cloudy blue skies as she trundled along.
"Oh good, you're awake," came a familiar voice. "I was worried they'd damaged you."
She groaned as she pushed herself to her haunches, turning to face Bolts beside her.
"I thought I told you to run," she said.
"I did," he replied. "These guys are fast."
'These guys' referred to the twenty or so ponies walking just below them. Two of them were attached to a large caravan, its wooden walls painted an inconspicuous green. The rest walked in groups, chatting and laughing. The cage in which they sat was fixed to the front of the carriage, dangling preciously.
"Where are we?" she asked as she examined the landscape.
"I'm not sure," said Bolts. "From what I can tell, we're heading north."
"Oh look, Scar: the metal one's awake," said one of the trailer ponies.
"Hey Sparky! What the view like from up there?" the one named Scar said. The two ponies laughed at their own joke.
"Ignore them," said Bolts. "They've been taunting me since they put me in here."
"How long have I been out?"
"About seven hours or so. The sun will be setting soon."
Sure enough, the sky was beginning to bleed red to the west. Before long, the light would be completely gone.
"I can get us out of here. I'll just melt the bars and-"
"Don't even bother," he interrupted. "This cage is enchanted—high level indestructibility spell, must have cost them a fortune."
"So what do they plan to do with us?" she asked, an edge of fear in her voice.
"I don't know. They are out to make a profit, so they wouldn't have kept us alive if they didn't think we were worth something."
The fact that they probably weren't going to be bumped off any time soon was of small comfort. How in Equestria were they going to get out of this one?
"At least they want us alive. They fed and watered me earlier," said Bolts. "It wasn't exactly gourmet, but I'm not complaining."
She smiled at his attempt to cheer her up. His eyes shimmered as he smiled back. When he realised he was staring, he looked away quickly, blush flooding his cheeks.
"So where is the key to this cage?" she asked, trying to ward off the awkward silence that had been descending on them.
"It's there," he said pointing to the front of the caravan where a small nail stuck out of the wood, a fancy key hanging from it. It was way too far for her to reach.
"So we're stuck here, aren't we?" she said in defeat, slumping to the metal floor.
"Yes, yes we are," replied Bolts as they watched the sun set slowly. The bandits, aware of the receding light, began to ignite torches that were stored in the side of the carriage. The warm glow of fire licked at the bottom of the cage, casting flickering shadows on their faces. The group of bandits walked on into the coming night, their two unwilling hostages in tow.
The bandits set up camp shortly after the sun had descended below the horizon. They lay around a blazing fire, laughing and drinking some sort of mead they had stored in the trailer. One of them even had a small ukulele and began strumming some cheerful tunes that sailed into the night, mingling with the smell of soup.
The two foals watched the bandits enjoy their evening meal, Bolts pushing himself against the metal bars to be closer to the warmth of the fire. The cage had been placed on the ground next to the carriage in sight of the relaxing bandits. Sweetie Bot observed them; if she didn't know better, they could have passed for ordinary ponies. She watched as one of them detached from the group, carrying two chunks of bread towards them. He was noticeably older than the rest of the group, his face obscured by a thick beard. His mustard yellow coat was covered with a pair of dirty overalls that trailed slightly behind him.
He paused as Sweetie Bot glared at him. Realising that the cage would protect him, he chuckled, advancing once more.
"You gave our boys quite the challenge, Missy," he said as he dropped the bread through the bars. Bolts caught his, biting into it furiously. Sweetie Bot continued to stare at the bandit.
"Now why ya lookin' at me like that?" he said. "We ain't doin' anything to hurt ya."
"You holding us in a cage," she replied.
"It's for ya own protection," he said. "If this here cage wasn't here, would ya stay here with us?"
She shook her head. Of course she wouldn't; they had attacked her and taken everything they had.
"Didn't think so, and if ya ain't with us, how can we turn ya over to the proper authorities?"
“So that's your plan: hand us over to the police and get a nice fat reward for your troubles?"
"Yup, pretty much."
She sighed. It always came down to money.
"And what about you Missy? What, may I ask, are ya?"
"That is none of your concern."
He chuckled at her defiance.
"There ain't no reason to be so hostile. I'm just a curious old pony who got down on his luck."
"What do you mean?" asked Bolts, looking up from his meal.
"Well, why do ya think any of us are here? We didn't choose this life, you know. Not everypony can get a job in some fancy bank!"
"But why thievery? Surely there was some other way?"
"Not that pays well enough to live on," he said sadly. "This life ain't no picnic, but it puts food in ma belly."
He shook his head, turning back to Sweetie Bot. "Anyway, as I was askin', who and what are ya and how in the hay did ya end up in the mountains?"
She didn't think there was a threat in telling this mild-mannered pony their story; he seemed nice enough—for a bandit that is. Even so, she thought it best to leave out some details.
“I'm Sweetie Bot, this is Bolts."
"Scrubs’s the name," said the elderly pony, pointing proudly to his chest "Best wagon mechanic in all Equestria. Man, I can fix a cart soon as look at it."
"So that's what you do with this lot? Fix the wagon?"
"Yup," he responded. "So Sweetie Bot you say, strange name for a filly, or are you a filly?"
"I'm actually a robot," she said. It still sounded stupid.
"A robot, you say? I've seen some fancy contraptions in my time, but never a fully workin' robot. Would ya mind satin' an old ponies curiosity?"
With a pop, she detached the shell off her leg, presenting the whirling motors and electronics to Scrubs. His eyes widened in fascination, observing every detail.
"Well I'll be damned—a fetch more complex than a wagon, I bet," he chuckled. "So how does a robot like you and a colt with a bag full o' gizmos end up where we found ya?"
"Well we were on the train to Manehatten..." started Sweetie Bot, launching into the story of their unfortunate train crash. She decided to leave out the black uniformed ponies who had attacked. No need to give the bandits any ideas about handing them in to the wrong people. Whoever the ponies were working for, they certainly weren't a nice bunch.
Scrubs listened intently, interrupting every now and again to ask a question. Bolts listened, too, not mentioning her omitted details. The entire ordeal sound more overwhelming now being told back than when it actually happened. She wondered what Rarity and her friends would make of it. What were they doing right now? Was Rarity scrambling on the next train to Manehatten as she was speaking? Had she realised how much this journey meant to Sweetie Bot? She did miss her sister dearly.
She was just getting to the point about finding the cave when the camp went silent. Sweetie Bot stopped her story, watching as a pony ran towards the bandits around the fire. He had obviously been keeping a lookout as a large pair of binoculars hung around his neck.
"There's a trail of caravans," he gasped, "over the hill, barely half a mile away"
The bandits looked at each other, not sure whether they were up for a raid this late at night.
"How many guards?" asked one pony.
"None, from what I can see," said the lookout. "Mostly travelers and a couple of saleponies"
The bandits pondered the thought. Most looked tempted by the idea of such an easy raid. No guards and saleponies probably filled with goods? It sounded too good to be true.
"Salesponies you say? They could be carrying quite the stock."
"But what about the travellers? I've heard they can be vicious."
"Ah ponyfeathers, just stories. They ain't gonna hurt us."
"All those in favour of a bit of late night plundering, say aye!" called the lookout.
A huge cry went up from the bandits as they scrambled to their hooves. With military efficiency, they packed away everything, the fire was extinguished, and their meals were packed back into the wagon. Within minutes, the entire camp was packed and ready to go.
"So how do you think we should do it? The old sneaky ambush?" said one pony.
"Nah, I say we go in hard and fast," said another. "Charge 'em with the carriage and scatter 'em, then we can pick 'em off." This suggestion was met with murmurs of agreement.
"What about those two?" said the pony named Scar. "We can't leave 'em here."
"Stick them back on the wagon. Even if the cage falls off, they ain't going anywhere."
The two carriage ponies walked towards their cage, lifting it with some difficulty. With a heave, they latched it back onto the wagon, swaying gently.
"All right? Then let’s do this!" cried the lookout, his words met with an uproar from the gathered bandits.
The cage shook as they took off, the trailer bouncing over the grass as they climbed a nearby hill. Sweetie Bot orientated her internal compass, figuring they were going North-East. They came over the peak of the hill, peering off into the distance. Sure enough, they could see a long trail of glowing light, the glimmer flicking as the unsuspecting ponies walked around.
With a bone-chilling, or in Sweetie Bot's case, circuit-chilling battle cry, the bandits charged for the camp, the noise echoing through the quiet night for miles around.
Bolts and Sweetie Bot sat close, their hooves wrapped around each other as the carriage creaked and bounced down the hill. The tidal wave of bandits surged around the trailer, their battle cries drowning out the screams from the terrified foals. The ferocious cries from the bandits immediately drew the attention of the travellers, who cried out at the approaching caravan.
The camp was a simple affair; seven trailers sat in a semicircle around a large fire that blazed under the night sky. Embers drifted around as the travellers scrambled around, grabbing whatever they could to defend themselves. All the caravans were bustling with activity, all except one: it sat some distance away from the others. Its strange but familiar shape sent warning signals streaming through Sweetie Bot's system— signals she was too terrified to acknowledge.
With the camp getting closer and closer, they could see the strange assortment of weapons the travellers had assembled. Some held small knives and swords; one unicorn even had a rusty old pistol gripped tightly in his magic. Those not fortunate enough to have proper weapons wielded frying pans and brooms as they stood to meet the bandits.
Sweetie Bot was horrified. Would the bandits really kill for the contents of seven measly caravans? It hardly seemed worth the bloodshed. She could feel Bolts' heart beating rapidly through his skin; he was shaking as he clung to her, his eyes wide and staring as they bounded along towards the camp.
With her vision magnified, she examined the travellers from a distance. The rag-tag groups she saw were not what she was expecting. It wasn't just stallions preparing to fight; mares and even a couple of the bigger foals stood ready, brandishing their crude weapons. What were they willing to pay to protect their homes?
The bandits never slowed down. They spread out, aiming for the gaps between the caravans. The trailer powered on, heading straight for the group of ponies that stood before them. They couldn't fit through that gap, could they? It was too narrow; they were going to smash straight into the wagons! Bolts wouldn't survive such an impact.
"Bolts, get down," she commanded.
In no state to argue, he lay on the bottom of the cage, confused as to what she was doing. She couldn't stop the impact, but maybe she could shelter him. Surprised she could still feel awkward at a time like this, she placed herself on top of him gently, trying to shield him as much as possible.
With their faces pressed up against each other, she sighed as his faced registered the shock of the intimacy of the situation.
"Don't get any ideas," she said, his face blushing. He looked at her again, his eyes searching her face, almost star struck.
"Your eyes," he said gently. "They're really pretty".
She cocked an eyebrow at him.
"You chose this moment to compliment my looks?"
He shrugged sheepishly. "Good a time as any, I suppose."
She rolled her eyes. His compliment, however, raised a troubling question. What did the future hold for her? Could she ever really have a normal life if no one past he friends and family would accept her? What about foals? She had never really thought about it; only now, when it was taken from her, did she realise how much she would miss in life.
A loud crack brought her back to reality. She watched as one of the bandits fell to the ground with a thud, blood pouring from his leg as he screamed in agony. She didn't need and X-ray to see his bone had been shattered. It would never set right with that much damage.
She screamed as part of the caravan next to them exploded into a shower of splinters. The unicorn had obviously opened fire with his pistol, each shot ringing in the air. The camp was getting closer; the wall of travellers was merely 100 metres away. When they realised the caravan wasn't going to stop, they panicked, yelling as they dived out of its way. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the impact.
With a jarring crunch, the wagons collided, wood spraying everywhere. She bunked down, trying to cover Bolts as much as possible. The cage swung wildly as the bandits’ wagon spun out of control, skidding to a halt just short of the campfire. The two foals gasped, waiting for the cage to stop spinning.
"You OK?" she asked, lifting herself off of him. He nodded in reply, too shocked to speak. She helped him up, brushing shards of wood out of his mane.
All around, the camp was alive with the sounds of fighting. Oddly enough, while some still held them tightly, most of the bandits and travellers had sheathed their swords, instead using their hooves to block and punch each other. While she didn't approve of the violence, at least neither side intended to kill.
It also explained why the unicorn with the pistol had only hit the stallion in the leg. She had thought it was just poor aiming, but now it seemed more deliberate, to maim rather than kill.
With nothing better to do, the two of them watched the battle. Both sides exchanged blows, bucking and biting viciously. It was a fairly evenly-matched battle. While the travellers had numbers on their side, the bandits were much more experienced in the art of combat. Even her Battle Processor was intrigued, analysing the fighting styles of several bandits simultaneously.
"So what happens now?" asked Bolts as they watched a bandits buck a traveller in the chest, sending him flying into the side of one of the trailers.
"I don't know," admitted Sweetie sadly. "There's no way out of this cage. I suppose this is it."
"But I don't want to go home," he mumbled.
Neither did she. There were still so many questions left unanswered. Her thoughts returned to her earlier worries, the things she had been robbed of. No, that was wrong. She hadn't been robbed of them; she had never had them in the first place. Had the engineer not thought that far ahead? Had he expected her to go through life wondering why she could never raise a family of her own? She could just picture it, watching Applebloom and Scootaloo with foals of their own while she sat to the side.
"Something's troubling you", said Bolts, knocking her from her thoughts.
"I'm fine," she said nonchalantly.
"You're a really bad liar." He smirked. "You go unnaturally still when you’re thinking."
She sighed. "I'm just thinking about all the things I can't do."
"Like?" he asked curiously.
"Like..." She looked away awkwardly. "Well... mare things," she stuttered.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening in understanding as he blushed.
"It never seemed that important before, always so far in the future. But now? When I know it will never happen? It's all too close."
She began to weep, her tear tanks spilling their contents down her cheeks. All around her, ponies fell to the ground as hooves dealt shattering blows. Mares and foals screamed as they fled the camp, the bandits not bothering to give chase.
Bolts placed a hoof around her heaving shoulders, doing his best to comfort her. "Don't worry, I'm sure the Professor can do something about it," he said, trying to sound optimistic.
She looked up at him. "You think?" she asked.
"Of course! Look how amazing he made you! If anyone can do it, it's him."
Her tears slowed. Maybe Bolts was right; the Professor was obviously a genius. Could he help? To find out, they had to get to Manehatten. Unfortunately, the cage made that seem like a distant possibility. Still, she smiled at him, even if it was a false hope he had tried.
"Thanks, Bolts," she said. "What would I do without you?"
"Still have a bullet in your leg, I'd imagine," he chuckled.
She laughed with him. It felt good to laugh, despite being in the centre of a raging battle. As their laughter died down, they looked at each other, smiling. The battle faded. It was just them, together in the cage, happy with each other’s company. She examined his face; the soft lines of his muzzle, the messy purple mane upon his head. His eyes were a lovely shade of blue, just like Rarity's...
She snapped back to reality. No, this wasn't right. She couldn't get attached now; it was Rarity all over again. Once she had her answers, then maybe, but now, while her words and feeling were as hollow as her fake heart, she couldn't bear to hurt him like that, to fake something so personal. He deserved better.
But at the moment, she couldn't deliver better.
She looked away, blushing. She felt the air shift as his ears fell sadly. She didn't want to hurt him. It was for the best.
Her internal conflict was interrupted by a thud from below. The two of them looked down to see a row of ponies up against the wagon, battered and bruised from the fight. It seemed the bandits’ experience came out on top, overpowering the travellers. Now the bandits were pillaging the trailers, taking anything of value.
Scrubs stood nearby, watching over the hostages. His right eye was black and swollen, but he seemed otherwise unharmed. Sweetie Bot examined the group below. Most of them appeared to be stallions; the majority of the mares and foals had fled the camp. She frowned. Those two unicorns, she could have sworn she recognised them. Their hats seemed familiar...
She gasped as recognition hit her. She glanced over to the other side of the camp to the wagon that had struck her system as odd. There it was, covered in pipes and chimneys: The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000. Looking back down, she watched as the Flim Flam Brothers trembled, their hats slightly askew.
What in Equestria were those two doing here? The travellers didn't seem like the greatest source of business. Perhaps this was how they travelled from place to place, probably to protect themselves from bandits. It really seemed to be working for them.
But it didn't matter; they might just be their ticket out of here.
"Psst, Flim!" she whispered. "Flam!"
The two unicorns looked up, frowning at the young filly. It took them a couple of seconds to recognise her.
"Why, dear brother, I do believe we know that filly!" whispered Flim.
"I believe you’re right, brother of mine. She was with that lovely unicorn in Ponyville, if I remember correctly," replied Flam.
"It makes one wonder what a filly could have done to wind up in a situation like this, doesn't it, brother?"
"It certainly does," said Flam as they both looked at her expectantly.
"We don't have time!" she murmured urgently. "Just get us out of this cage and we can get out of here!"
"And how do you plan to do that young filly?" asked Flim. "There happens to be a large amount of bandits, if you hadn't noticed."
"You know, brother, there is something strange about the filly that I cannot quite put my hoof on," said Flam.
"You’re right brother. Perhaps it's her mane?" replied Flim.
"A hooficure?"
"Maybe the rubber tubing in her legs?"
"I don't know brother, seems a little farfetched to me," said Flam.
Sweetie Bot rolled her eyes.
"Look, do you want out of here or not?"
The brothers looked at each other and nodded.
"Well, little filly, it seems we have ourselves an agreement," said Flim.
"Good," said Sweetie. "The key to the cage is just there."
They shot a shifty look at Scrubs, who was watching his fellow bandits unload the other trailers. With a faint hum, the key was enveloped in a green glow, floating up and an around to the front of the cage. It slid into the lock and turned with a faint grinding. With a creak, she pushed the cage door open. It was quite a drop to the ground.
"You ready?" she asked Bolts, offering her hoof.
"As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, holding her tight.
She dropped from the cage, landing with a loud thud. The Flim Flam Brother scrambled over, looking at the strange filly.
"And now, may I ask, what do you plan to do now?" asked Flim.
"The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy— how fast can it go?"
"Faster than a pony, that's for sure, thanks to the Patented FlimFlam Combobulation Engine," said Flam proudly.
"Ok, let’s go," she said.
"Now where do ya think you’re goin'?" came a voice.
Scrubs stood before them, blocking their path. While nopony else had noticed their escape, it wouldn't be too hard for Scrubs to raise an alarm.
"Move out of the way Scrubs. I don't want to hurt you" said Sweetie Bot.
He looked down at her with a smile.
"You don't have to," he said. "Go on, before they notice. Your bags are in that there wagon."
Bolts walked to the back of the wagon. She listened to him inside as she watched Scrubs.
"Thank you," was all she could say.
"Don't mention it, Missy. Go to Manehatten. This is important to ya; I can tell," he replied.
Bolts re-emerged from the wagon, their saddle bags on his back.
"Come with us, Scrubs. We can help you," said Bolts.
"An' leave this lot? These guys are like family to me. They'd be lost without me," he said with a smile.
"You sure?"
I'm sure," he said. "Now go, quick! That contraption of your friends doesn't look like it was built for stealth. You need all the head start you can get"
With that, he stepped aside, allowing the four of them to scamper across the camp to the waiting vehicle. They clambered on board, the Brothers heading for the controls.
"It'll take a moment to warm up," said Film
"And it'll make a lot of noise doing it," finished Flam.
"Think you can hold them off?" asked Bolts.
"We'll see," said Sweetie Bot nervously.
With a screech, the machine burst into life, the deck shuddering as steam belched from the chimneys. The bandits cried out, abandoning their looting and heading straight for the Super Speedy.
"Here they come!" cried Bolts.
Sweetie Bot lowered her horn, letting off a few low-power blasts. The beams hit dead on, knocking four of the bandits to the ground. She lifted her head, just in time to dodge the large stallion who was diving for the deck. She rolled, watching him sail over her and crash down, dazing him.
She was about to push him off the deck when another stallion jumped up, swinging a short sword at her face. She barely managed to bring up a hoof to deflect it, sending it spinning from his mouth. With the bandit disarmed, she slammed a hoof into his jaw, sending him tumbling off the side.
She was about to fire off another laser blast when she was roughly knocked to the side by a blow to the head. Her vision fluttered as she hit the deck. A diagnostic appeared on her HUD and she groaned. She hoped the engineer could hammer out dents in her skull.
She jumped to her hooves, facing the large stallion before her. With a running jump she launched herself into the air, bringing her hoof down on his head. He stumbled back, clutching his skull until he fell to the ground unconscious with a final sigh. With a shove, she dumped him onto the ground just as the sound of the engine changed tone.
"Forward!" yelled Flim, pulling back a lever.
With a lurch, the Super Speedy began to move; slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed. 5, 10, 15 miles an hour. Soon they were pulling away from the bandits that had given chase. Sweetie Bot looked back at the camp and saw the lone figure of Scrubs silhouetted against the camp fire.
She saw him wave and she waved back, watching the elderly pony until he, the camp, and the bandits were all lost from view.
Sweetie Bot sighed in relief as the Super Speedy trundled on, the stars watching its steady progress. She felt her body sag as her system decided to initiate its exhaustion protocol. She fell to the deck, breathing heavily as her fake lungs exhaled at a constant five metres per second.
She heard Bolts walk over and slump next to her, his heart fluttering in his chest. They lay in silence, neither knowing what to say. Instead, they watched the hills roll by. Flim and Flam stood by the control panel, talking in hushed tones as they steered the craft onwards.
"Will Scrubs be OK?" asked Bolts, breaking the silence.
"I'm sure he'll be fine," replied Sweetie Bot. "The rest of them didn't see him let us go. They have no reason to suspect he helped us."
"I hope he finds somewhere better," said Bolts. "He's too nice to be a bandit,"
"I agree. When all of this is over, we'll find him. I'm sure he'd have plenty of business with the farms in Ponyville."
"And what about you?" inquired Bolts. "Will you go back to Ponyville?"
Sweetie Bot stopped. She hadn't really thought that far ahead. What if the Professor gave her the answer she was dreading? Could she face her family again knowing their love went unreturned? What then?
"Sweetie Bot?" said Bolts, interrupting her thoughts.
"I... I don't know," she said. "I suppose; Rarity and my parents would be so upset if I didn't come home."
"You could always stay in Manehatten with the Professor," he said. "That way, I could see you all the time."
She ignored the artificial blush rising in her cheeks.
"That would be nice," she said. "I'd like that."
They lapsed into silence once again, each thinking their own thoughts. Sweetie Bot shifted ever so slightly, pressing the side of her barrel up against Bolts. She felt him shudder, whether from her touch or the cold metal, she wasn't sure. Either way, his heart rate jumped, beating heavily in his chest.
The Super Speedy trundled on into the night, the quiet grumbling of its engine punctured by the occasional bang or whistle. Sweetie Bot watched the stars overhead, mentally flicking away the constant notifications about her system. It seemed to be doing some sort of total system check, probably because of the damaged she had sustained.
She absent mindedly ran a hoof over the small dent in her skull, just below her right ear. It wasn't serious, just annoying. With an internal bleep, the check finished, the constant stream of diagnostics coming to an end. She was just about to dismiss the last panel when she stopped, her eyes scanning the words.
It appeared to be a final report, listing all her functions and their current status. All appeared normal. She ran her eyes down the list, halting as she reached the end. What she read chilled her to the motherboard.
X-38 INDEPENDENT ARMED UNIT
STATUS: UNIT READY FOR COMBAT
She stared at the bright green text in front of her. There was no denying it now. She had though her Battle Sequencer and weaponry might have been the Professor's way of keeping her safe, but now her system had diagnosed her ready for combat. She hadn't been made to replace a foal.
She had been made to kill.
But why? Who uses a war machine to replace a child? What was Professor Ruttlebridge thinking? Horrid thoughts filled her head. What would have happened if she had discovered her weapons earlier? All that destructive power in the hooves of a child...
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn't hear them until it was too late.
She jumped up instinctively as bullets peppered the deck around her, narrowly missing Bolts. She looked up, fear gripping her as a dozen pegasi circled above her, each wielding rifles. One of them swooped low, only to quickly rise again as Sweetie Bot loosed a laser in his direction.
The pegasi darted around, all too aware of her laser. Their black outfits made them hard to distinguish from the dark sky above. Only the red flash from her laser provided an illumination of the attackers. She fired off another shot, trying to draw their attention to her. She might be not be bulletproof, but she was a damn sight more durable than the others.
More bullets came raining down, leaving large holes in the deck. The Super Speedy gave a jolt as a bullet hit its mark, severing a pipe near the rear of the craft.
"That's the steam pipe!" shouted Flim.
"We're not going anywhere without it!" finished Flam.
Already, the craft had begun to slow down. Soon, they would be sitting ducks.
"Bolts!" shouted Sweetie Bot. "Help them fix the pipe while I hold them off!"
He nodded, sprinting towards the controls. Sweetie Bot turned away, sending another volley of laser blasts into the night sky. However, the pegasi proved too elusive, ducking and weaving between her shots. She spun around, letting off more lasers on the other side. Her system vaguely saw Bolts climbing onto Flam's back, one of his devices held tightly in his magic.
With a shove, Bolts clambered onto the mass of machinery at the back of the Super Speedy. Any other time, he would have loved to examine the mass of whirling gears and compacted springs; however, now was not ideal. He flinched as another hail of bullets came down and Sweetie's laser went off in response.
He looked back, watching Sweetie as she fought, her head constantly moving to keep track of the swarm of wings above her. Bolts was never one for violence, but when Sweetie Bot fought, it was... elegant, like dancing. She would pirouette and dive, strong and confident in her movements. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.
He shook his head. He could think about that later. He had to focus on the task at hand. He turned away, spotting the damaged pipe some distance away at the back of the craft. He began to crawl, inching his way forwards. The pipe was swaying from side to side, white steam billowing from the ruptured ends.
He shielded his head as bullets sprinkled the metal next to him, bouncing off the thick sheets beneath him. He could hear the laser blasting off every few seconds. How long could she keep up that sort of attack? Her laser used up an awful lot of power. The craft had slowed to a crawl now, the lack of steam depriving the engine of its lifeblood.
A scream drew his attention. He looked back, watching Flim as he fell backwards, red slowly seeping into his shirt from the bullet hole in his foreleg. He writhed in agony, clutching his leg as Flam tried to stem the flow of blood. Just beyond them, he saw Sweetie, her laser still going. Her body was sagging, the laser starting to take its toll.
He turned away, determination in his eyes. He pushed on, the device firmly in his grasp. It resembled a clamp; however, large pieces of metal had been welded to it and fixed with rubber, forming an airtight seal. He reached the end of the machine, the pipe snaking in the air in front of him.
He reached out with his magic, grasping the pipe ends. He carefully manoeuvred the pipes together, placing the clamp over the split. With a loud clunk, the device slammed shut, the flow of steam continuing along the pipe. Within seconds, the engine changed tone, the grumbling returning as it picked up speed once again.
"Sweetie!" he yelled, standing up to face the front of the craft. "The pipe's fixed!"
She turned to his call, smiling at the news.
"Good job, Bolts!" she cried.
Her face fell, turning to one of alarm.
"Bolts!" she screamed "Look out!"
He didn't even have time to turn as the beat wings fell upon him and a pair of hooves grabbed him roughly from behind.
Sweetie watched helplessly as the pegasus descended on Bolts. He cried out as he was lifted into the air, kicking at his kidnapper.
"Sweetie!" came his cry, "help me!"
But there was nothing she could do, not without hurting Bolts in the process.
"I'll find you, Bolts! I promise!"
With his hostage in tow, the pegasus took off, zooming away into the oncoming dawn. Seeing the pegasus leaving, the others relented their attack, quickly turning around and racing after their comrade.
Sweetie Bot took their bearing, calibrating it with her internal map. There was only one place they could be going.
She turned away from the fleeing pegasi, running up to the Flim Flam Brothers. Flam was still tending to Flim's wound, bandaging up the bloody hole halfway up his leg.
"We need to chase them," she urged, "before they get away!"
"If you hadn't noticed," started Flam.
"I have a bullet in my leg," finished Flim.
"We can get you a doctor," she said.
"Even if we could catch up to them," grimaced Flim.
"We have no idea where they’re heading," said Flam.
Sweetie Bot shook her head. "I know exactly where they’re going" she said.
The boutique stood dark and quiet, with no sign of life coming from within. The golden curtains, usually open to allow the daylight in, stood closed and still, standing sentinel over the interior. Nopony had seen Rarity in days, and Sweetie Belle had been absent from school as well. Most ponies assumed it to be a sudden unexpected trip, family issues and the like, and nothing to worry themselves about.
However, Fluttershy was more prone to worry than others.
With a deep breath, she raised a hoof, knocking politely on the door. The sound echoed from within and no call of 'Come in!' came ringing from inside as it should have. After a moment's silence she knocked again, more firmly this time, just in case Rarity was upstairs or some other place where she couldn't hear the door. Again, no response was heard.
Maybe they were right, thought Fluttershy. It must have been pretty important to leave without saying anything.
She turned away, fretting over what horrible event could have come up so suddenly, when a flash of white to her left drew her eyes from the path. She looked up, watching the blur jump into the bush just outside the boutique. Watching the shrub nervously, Fluttershy crept over, her breathing speeding up as she imagined what monstrous creature she was about to uncover.
With a squeak, she parted the leaves, looking away in terror. When no claws or fang began tearing at her, she cracked open an eye, looking down into the bush. She sighed in relief, reaching in to pick up the distressed feline.
"Opalescence! You gave me quite the fright!" she cooed, cuddling the cat to her chest. When Opal let out a grumpy meow, she released the hug, holding her up in front of her.
"Oh my..." gasped Fluttershy as she saw the state of the disgruntled Opal.
The cat was filthy. Her usually-white fur was wet and dark with mud and grime. The gems in the usually-pristine collar were cracked and the whole thing hung slightly loose around her neck. In fact, the entirety of her body felt thinner than normal, as if she hadn't eaten in days.
"Oh you poor dear!" murmured Fluttershy. "Did Rarity forget about you?"
Opal gave a meow in reply.
"No, that's not right," brooded Fluttershy. "No matter how important her trip was, she'd always drop you off with me before she left. So if she didn't forget you..."
Fluttershy turned back to the store, her eyes wide in realisation.
"Then she must still be here..."
Bolts groaned as he swam back to consciousness, his head throbbing like someone had taken a jack hammer to his skull. Someone was calling his name. But who could it be? Was it Mum? Dad? Sweetie Bot? Their faces flashed over his groggy mind, lingering on Sweetie's the longest. What happened? He could remember gunshots, and a broken pipe and...
His eyes opened with a start, his retinas straining to distinguish much in the gloom. It was warm, almost too warm to be comfortable, the heavy air laced with the smell of disinfectant and something else —it was faint, but tangy, a smell he just couldn't quite place. He tugged at his hooves, straining against the thick straps that bound him to the cold metal table beneath him. It was tilted slightly backwards, pointing his muzzle slightly towards the ceiling.
When it became obvious that the straps were not going to break any time soon, he set about trying to map his surroundings. He may not have had Sweetie Bot's advanced sensors, but he could still get a feel for the room around him.
"Hello?" he called, listening to the sound his voice made.
He expected to hear his voice echoing off the wall; he did not expect a response.
"Why hello, my fine young friend!" called the cheery voice of a mare that sent chills down Bolts' spine. "How are you feeling?"
The voice had an odd crackle to it, as if it was coming from a speaker of some sorts. He didn't feel safe conversing with his captors; however, he at least needed to find out where he was.
"I'm fine," he replied cautiously, "just a bit groggy; that's all"
"Yes, that is expected. We had to sedate you to make you more... cooperative," came the voice.
Bolts shivered despite the warmth at the voice's words.
"What do you want with me? I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"
The voice erupted into a hoarse laugh, the noise crackling over the intercom.
"Oh no, my boy," chuckled the mare. "You've just gotten caught up in things that don't concern you. We just need to ask some questions, and you can be on your way."
"What sort of questions?" asked Bolts suspiciously.
"About your friend, the one you met on the train."
"Sweetie Bo-, you mean Sweetie Belle?" asked Bolts.
"Yes, her. Do you know why she was on that train?"
Bolts was unsure what to say. Did they not know themselves, or were they testing how much he knew? From what Sweetie had told him, she had left pretty suddenly. The chances that they knew why she was going to Manehatten were slim. However, the fact that they knew she was on the train in the first place indicated they knew something. Since the train only went to Manehatten, they knew where she was going, just not why. With his reasoning finished, Bolts answered carefully.
"She said she was going to Manehatten for the weekend."
"Did she say why?"
"Not that I can remember..."
"Nothing at all? Surely she must have said something."
"No, she was pretty quiet about the whole thing."
"That's a shame. How about her fa- excuse me a second."
The sound of hooves walking away from the microphone rang in the air and hushed conversation that was too quiet to hear. He lay there for a full minute, trying to catch what they were saying. When the voice came back, it sounded different, more like that of a filly on Hearth's Warming Eve than a professional.
"I'm sorry to say that my supervisor wants results," came the voice. "For the sake of time, we have to resort to... less pleasant means of extracting information."
"What do you mean by that?!" stammered Bolts.
"You'll see..." said the mare, her voice dipped in sadistic pleasure.
With a clunk, a section of the wall swung inwards, light pouring into the room and illuminating the grey stone walls. His breath caught in his throat as three ponies walked in, including two bulky stallions in tight fitting guards' uniforms. The other was a unicorn mare, her orange mane tied back in a bun while a lab coat covered most of her beige fur.
"Hello Bolts," said the mare brightly. "My name is Sharp Scalpel."
Her horn ignited, drawing her namesake instrument from her pocket. Bolts stared at it with undisguised terror.
With a sickening grin, she looked Bolts in the eyes. "Shall we get started?" she said.
The door of the boutique creaked as Fluttershy pushed it open, a sound Rarity would never let any door of hers make. With Opal curled up on her back, she stepped lightly into the foyer, looking around at the mannequins. As far as she could tell, all was as it should be; nothing was out of place, no sign of a break in. However, dust had begun to settle over various articles of clothing and the air smelt musty.
She closed the door behind her with a soft click and began looking around. Half-finished dresses lined the walls. In fact, it was the same set of dresses that had been there the other day. Fluttershy knew Rarity well enough to know that no dress stayed this unfinished for more than two days at a stretch. The fact that Rarity hadn't been working was concerning.
Making her way through the foyer, she opened the door to the kitchen. She reared back, disturbing Opal as she gagged on the foul odour than came from beyond the door. Unwashed dishes were piled high on the sides, numerous cartons of ice cream lay abandoned and empty. Now Fluttershy was really worried. Rarity would never let her home descend to this level of filth.
After fetching Opal some food and she was sure there was nopony on the lower level, she approached he staircase, the ornate banister snaking up to the higher floors. She had already assumed this to be where Rarity was residing. As she ascended, she could hear sniffling, the sound of somepony who had cried too much, yet still wants to go on. It was heart-wrenching, hearing her friend in such distress. As quietly as she could, she opened the door of Rarity's room, gasping at the sight before her.
Rarity lay upon her bed, her mane and tail flat and scruffy from days without grooming. Her coat was dirty, covered in ice cream stains and wet patches from the tears that were still being shed. Tissues littered the floor and bed, piling up against the walls in excessive amounts.
In all the years Fluttershy had known Rarity, and in all the years to come, she would never see her friend in such a state. This wasn't Rarity acting the drama queen —something had torn at her heart, and she didn't know how to fix it.
Fluttershy's gasp of surprise drew Rarity from her sulking as they locked gazes. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, sad and hopelessly lost. More grief had spilled from those eyes in several days than most ponies would experience in a lifetime.
"Hello.. .Fluttershy, darling," croaked Rarity, her voice strained.
Fluttershy didn't respond. Seeing her friend in such a mess almost brought her to tears. Rarity was always so prim and proper; not even Discord or the Changelings had stopped that. Instead, she walked over, jumping up next to the distressed mare. What Fluttershy had at first dismissed as more tissues were actually photos of all different shapes and sizes. Some were framed, some yellowed from years of sunlight. However, they all had one thing in common.
"Rarity," murmured Fluttershy as she placed a wing around her, "what happened?"
The unicorn looked at her, her eyes filling with more tears. "Sweetie Belle," she whispered. "She's gone."
Fluttershy's eyes widened in shock. "Gone? W-What do you mean 'gone'?"
Rarity looked back down at the photo in her hooves. "She was so confused. I never stopped to see her side of the picture. She went to Manehatten, she wanted the truth. But the train..."
Rarity wailed, the tears coming fresh and fast as her loss hit her again. All Fluttershy could do was stroke her friend's mane, trying to calm her down.
Sweetie Belle...gone? thought Fluttershy. It can't be true. She was so sweet, so full of life, it can't...
She felt her own eyes tearing up at the thought of the young filly, and soon both mares were leaning on each other for support, crying for the filly they thought would never come home.
"See?" said Scalpel to the guards as she wiped blood on her coat "So much simpler. Why we didn't start with this, I don't know."
The unicorn turned to Bolts, lifting his head with a hoof. His face was covered in numerous lacerations, some barely scratches, others still bleeding intensely. She was surprised how much pain the poor colt had tolerated before he finally gave in. Not that she cared; she had done her job. The information was hers; now all she wanted was coffee.
"Thank you very much, Bolts," she said in a sickly sweet voice. "You've been very helpful in my investigation. As a reward, I'll end you quickly when the time comes."
She flashed him an evil smile before spinning away and strolling through the door, the guards in her wake. With a slam, the door was shut, leaving Bolts once again in darkness.
He felt defeated; his body was heavy, sore from the cuts that coated his body. His grey fur was sodden with blood, coating the table in the sticky liquid.
"I'm so sorry, Sweetie Bot," he whispered. "I tried to be strong for you, to keep you safe, but they beat me. They'll find you and take you apart."
He sniffled, blinking tears from his eyes. "What use am I as a stallion if I can't protect you? You deserve better, but I can't give better."
His mind clouded over as the pain flared over his body and his head slumped forward.
"I love you Sweetie Bot. I'm so sorry," he whispered as his tears of pain were joined by tears of regret.
Sweetie Bot stood atop the sweeping hills, peering down at the bustling city in the distance. It was early morning, the sun just peeking over the horizon. However, despite the ungodly hour, the streets below were still bustling with commuters. Business ponies scuttled around like ants while newsponies stood on street corners, shouting the headlines in the hopes that somepony would buy their paper.
Dismissing the atmospheric report her spectroscope had relayed to her HUD, she turned away from the city towards the craft behind her. Flim and Flam lay upon the deck, each exhausted by the night's events and the nonstop driving they had been doing. The two of them had been into the town already to gather supplies and get Flim's leg fixed up. He now supported thick bandages around his leg and he walked with a slight limp.
They had also been kind enough to acquire Sweetie Bot a new cloak, this one a dark grey. It fit much more snugly than her last-minute attempt back at the boutique. While she didn't need food, Bolts would when she found him. Her saddle bags also contained bottled water and bandages, should the worst come about.
Bolts. Just thinking his name sent a stab of guilt through her. This was her fault— no one to blame but herself. She couldn't protect him; no matter how hard she had tried, he had still been taken. She was a machine, armed to the teeth, yet she still couldn't do her job properly.
She gritted her teeth in fierce determination. If they wanted her, they could have her. She didn't care anymore. As long as Bolts was safe, that was all that mattered. With a body as dangerous as hers, maybe she would be better off dead.
She shook away her thoughts, almost grinning at her display as it showed the actual though processes being thrown aside. She approached the craft, the two brothers raising their heads as she got nearer.
"I'm going to head off now. The longer I wait, the longer he's in danger," she said
"Why don't you report this to the authorities?" asked Flim.
"Surely they could sort this all out," said Flam.
Sweetie Bot shook her head sadly. "I wish it were that simple. They would ask too many questions. No, this is something I have to do myself— something I'm going to finish," she said with a stomp of her hoof, the metal appendage cracking the road beneath her.
She breathed out, regaining her temper. With a sigh, she looked back at the brothers.
"Where will you go?" she asked.
Flim and Flam looked at each other, pondering the question silently. It was Flim that spoke up first, his voice raspy and weak.
"I think what we need," he started.
"Is a holiday," finished Flam.
"I hear the Gallopagos are nice this time of year," said Flim with a smile.
Sweetie nodded and turned away, beginning the trek into the city. However, Flam's voice called out to her. She looked back, waiting for him to speak.
"We don't know who those pegasi worked for," he said.
"Nor what sort of trouble your walking into," continued Flim.
"But we just wanted to say, thank you."
"And good luck."
Sweetie smiled, glad for the encouragement as she turned back towards the city. By the looks of things, she was going to need it.
Ponies pushed and shoved as they scrambled along the busy sidewalks, all forms of manners and courtesy forgotten in the rush of the morning. Unfortunately for Sweetie Bot, all these ponies were adults, putting her well below their line of sight and directly in front of their hooves, causing them to pull some interesting manoeuvres to avoid the filly that came from nowhere.
At several times, she considered sticking herself to the wall in an attempt to avoid the crowds. However, many parts of her system, both strategic and not, obscured her visions with warnings every time she dare think it. It was if they were trying to make her life more difficult.
They did come in useful, however, in predicting the movements of the ponies around her and plotting the most efficient path between the sea of legs to her goal, marked with a large red dot on her HUD's map: the Manehatten Institute of Engineering.
Her plan was simple, if not particularly well-thought-out. The Institute was sure to have fairly recent records of Professor Ruttlebridge's address. She'd find where he lived and ask him about anypony who might want to steal her designs. Then she could find them and save Bolts!
Or they could find her. Either worked for her at this point. Bolts was her only goal, all thoughts of existential crisis banished from her mind.
Manehatten was a literal maze. Roads spanned in all directions, criss-crossing like the web of a giant spider, a web she was dangerously close to getting stuck in. It didn't take her logic processor to tell her that whoever took Bolts was expecting her, that his entire foalnapping was to lure her into their trap. Her system was doing constant scans of her surroundings, flashing warnings if anyone was paying her too much attention.
The Institute lay at the head of a large green, somewhere to the west of the city centre. As she wound her way through the crowds, she kept a close eye on her HUD map. Her current displacement was about 783 metres, though the distance she had to traverse was closer to 1468 metres. Getting lost was almost an impossibility, as her systems were constantly tracking her position.
With nothing to do but continue walking, her mind shifted once again to Bolts. Her tear tanks almost opened up as she thought about how scared he must be. Trapped, afraid, did he even think she was coming? Had he already given up on rescue? Or was he staring expectantly at the door of some cell, waiting for her to come in and save the day?
The thoughts chilled her frame. She wouldn't let him down. She would make it to that Institute. She would make sure that he had the chance to show his wonderful, wacky inventions, even if it killed her. Better the living pony survive than the one who had never lived at all, right? She owned him that much. His predicament was her fault, after all, the blame resting solely on her metal shoulders.
Her resolve hardened, she picked up the pace to almost a gallop, straight to the centre of the spider's web.
To say that the Institute was an impressive sight did not do the building justice. Even surrounded by skyscrapers, it more than made up for its lack of height with towering pillars, gleaming marble and intricate carvings. It was more than a match for its neighbours. The front of the building was a massive arch, held aloft by pillars almost three ponies in width. It was flanked by two grand wings, rows upon rows of glass windows staring down on passersby.
The building was a masterpiece of modern architecture, and as such, carried a hefty price tag to boot. However, Manehatten's booming economy, as well as a large portion of its exports, originated within the halls of this building and others like it. As a result, such places received funding from corporations far in excess of what the crown could provide.
It had been easy to imagine that getting the Professor's address would be a cakewalk, that they would hand it over on a silver platter. Now, looking up at the imposing building, she was beginning to have doubts on the integrity of her plan.
'Well, you don't know 'til you try,' she thought to herself as her leg servos whirled into motion, carrying her into the shadow of the Institute. A strange thought then occurred to her.
"I was born here," she muttered, using 'born' in the loosest sense of the term. "This is where the Professor gave me to Mum and Dad."
Here she had been given the sparks of life. Brought into a world not ready for her to replace a filly who wasn't ready for death. Wouldn't it be ironic is this was also where those sparks faded?
The large doors of the building came into view, knocking the morbid thoughts from her mind. They were elegantly carved from the finest mahogany, intricate brass metalwork lining the frame and hinges. The doors emitted a sense of grandeur, of purpose. Behind these doors, the future was made.
She placed a hoof on the solid wood, pushing open a door that normal fillies her size would have never been able to open. They opened up onto a humongous room. The floor was polished marble, the walls made of thick brown stone. The ceiling towered above her at roughly 38 metres.
'Kind of takes away from the wonder when you do that,' she thought, not expecting her environmental scanner to respond.
The hall's walls were dotted with more doors, each leading to hallways and other rooms. Ahead sat a large reception desk and behind it, a large set of stairs, leading to the upper levels.
Still looking around in awe, she trotted over to the desk. The mare behind it was a tan unicorn, her red mane tied up in a bun and a pair of spectacles on her muzzle. Sweetie coughed politely when she failed to notice her guest, causing her to look around before spotting the filly before her.
"How can I help you, Miss?" she said, a tone of annoyance sneaking into her voice as she spoke.
"I... uh... needed to get the address of someone who used to work here," she said lamely.
The mare raised a brow. "And who would that be?"
"Uh... Professor Ruttlebridge..."
The mare's brow rose further. "And why, may I ask, do need to see him?"
Sweetie froze. She hadn't thought of a back story,a reason to be seeking the Professor. Thinking on her feet, she came up with a plausible lie.
"I... um... uh... Needed to ask him some questions!" she replied. "I want to speak to him about his work."
The unicorn looked at the young, cutie-markless filly who apparently wanted to speak with a world renowned professor. The story just wasn't going to cut it.
"I'm sorry, but I can't just give away that personal information to anypony," she scowled, "not even to curious fillies."
Sweetie's heart sank. "Please! It's really important I speak with him!"
"I'm sure it is," said the mare as she pressed the button under her desk. Within seconds, two burly guard stallions had appeared.
"Please escort this young lady off the premises," she told them, before turning back to her work.
Sweetie struggled as she was herded back toward the door. "No!" she pleaded. "I really need to see him!"
Alas, her shouts fell on deaf ears as she once again found herself outside the Institute. Her legs bucked beneath her as she began to weep. She had failed, stopped at the first obstacle to come her way. How could she have failed so easily? How hard was it to get hold of one file?
A file.
Sweetie's eyes opened wide. Surely such an advanced place would have more than physical documents? Delving into her memory banks, she scanned the interaction with the secretary. And sure enough, on the mare's desk, was a computer terminal. And said terminal was more than likely linked up to a maneframe.
Getting to her hooves, her face set into a determined scowl, she began to walk away from the building, but not in defeat. No, she may have failed this time, but next time, she would succeed, even if through... less conventional means.
The green was dark, illuminated only by the few offices and laboratories still in use at the Institute, their lights shining brightly from their windows. The sky overhead was cloudy, Luna's moon blocked from sight, ever deepening the darkness. Had anypony looked towards the line of trees that ran down one side of the green, they would have seen nothing, yet the shadows were not unpopulated.
Sweetie Bot stood in the shade, her enhanced vision scanning the building with extreme accuracy, despite the low light. For several hours, she had just watched, noting the number and movements of any guards, as well as which rooms and their late night occupants to avoid.
Get in. Find a terminal. Hack it. Get the address. Get out. The plan was simple and to the point. However, Sweetie knew that it was never that straightforward. If something went wrong, she'd have to fight herself out. She was too close to be caught now.
As the clock crept closer to one in the morning, she decided it was time to move. Using the guards' movement patterns and roughly calculating their stride and walking speed from their heights, she figured she had a 36-second window in which this side of the building was out of the sight of any guards.
She sprung forwards, her motors whizzing as she bounded towards the stone wall. The area was flat, smooth grass. There was no chance to hide if she was spotted. A timer appeared on her HUD; it was already down to 24 and she had only covered half the distance. Urgency lent her speed, and she soon reached the wall. 15 seconds to go.
Engaging her stick pads, she leaped onto the red brick wall, hastily beginning her ascent. She could hear the guards now, the two stallions exchanging banter and gossip. 12 seconds left. She climbed as high as she could, skirting around any illuminated windows, until she reached the second floor. Igniting her horn, she carefully began cutting a hole in the glass, just big enough to fit through. She placed a stick pad on the glass, gripping it as it came loose. 4 seconds.
Like a rabbit, she dived through the small hole, barely making it just as the guards come round the corner.
'Whew,' she sighed internally. '2 seconds early. That was too close.'
She picked herself off the floor, collecting herself before taking a look around. Her sight instantly flickered to night vision, showing her the interior of what seemed to be a lab in ominous shades of green. various piece of equipment that her system handily labeled dotted the room. However, the one thing missing was the one thing she wanted: there wasn't a terminal in sight.
"Of course," she muttered. "Because things can never be easy."
Walking towards the room's only exit, she turned up her audio sensors, straining to hear anypony moving outside the room. When nopony made themselves known, she placed a hoof on the door, easing it open as gently as she could. With the squeak of metal, the door swung open, revealing an imposing hallway lined with more doors on either side, small plaques denoting their purpose as they glinted in the low light.
Seeing the coast was clear, Sweetie emerged, her hoof steps quiet as she could make them on the granite stone floor. The classroom had come out at the end of the hallway. As she walked along, she read the plaques, her system instantly providing any relevant information it had stored. She seemed to have found herself in the Biology lab. Such a place was unlikely to have a terminal, being a rather practical science, though she checked all the labs anyway.
When they all came up empty, she walked to the end of the corridor, hoping for a signpost pointing her to a Physics or Mathematics lab. They were much more likely to house a terminal for use in complex calculations and models. The corridor continued to the left and right, more hallways like that which she had just left dotted along its length.
The hallway to her right was illuminated by a soft light coming from the room beyond. Her system quickly judged the distance from her current position and crunched the numbers at lightning speeds and applying it to her incomplete mental map of the building. If it was correct, that way lead to the second floor of the main atrium. From there, she could access the rest of the facility. And the Receptionist desk.
Or, more importantly, the terminal on said desk.
"Maybe I spoke too soon," she mused quietly as she made her way down the corridor. She was about to step out into the main room when her audio sensors picked up the sounds of hooves of the stone floor of the atrium. Hooves that were very close. As quietly as she could, she scrambled to the side of the hallway, hoping to conceal herself in the shadows. Not a moment later, a guard walked past, his eyes lazily scanning around him every so often.
By some stroke of luck, it seemed as if he'd already patrolled the corridor in which Sweetie was hiding, for he passed by without so much as a glance in her direction. She listened as the sounds of his hoofsteps receded before evacuating her fake lungs in a relived sigh.
"I really need to stop jinxing it," she grumbled to herself.
Now content that the coast was clear for the moment, she crept out onto the walkway overlooking the atrium. She could see at least 4 guards: two on the lower level and two on the walkways, both sets of guards walking regular circuits around their respective routes. After a moment of observing the guards' movements, she retreated back to the hallways to plan out her course of action.
She already had two plans formulated by the time she had relocated to one of the hallways further from the atrium and more out of the way of the patrolling guards. Both could work, but as to which one was safer, she had yet to decide.
On one hoof, she could go after a terminal in another department, such as she had originally planned. However, her patchy knowledge of the building's layout meant she would have to spend time finding the right place, which only increased her odds of getting caught.
Her second plan was a lot quicker, but also a lot more difficult to pull off. She would need a diversion, something to keep all the guards occupied while she hacked the receptionist terminal.
Her tactical systems went into overdrive, planning a route for both plans, factoring the guards' patrols as well as her incomplete map. Calculations streamed over the data feed of her HUD, planning contingencies and timings for nearly any outcome. Finally, it provided her with an answer.
Action Course 1 - Chance of Success - 37.8%
Action Course 2 - Chance of Success - 74.6%
Action Course 2 Advised
The choice was clear. Her systems even provided her with the most suitable and efficient distraction. With as much stealth as she could muster, she emerged from her hiding spot and trotted back in the direction of the Biology labs, keeping her eyes fixed to the end of the hallway should the guard return.
She slipped into the relevant hallway and quickened her pace towards the labs she had emerged from. Entering the room, she began to look around, her system tagging the components and materials she would need. With a powerful jump, she landed on the tabletop that ran around the edge of the room. Cupboards hung on the wall above her, their contents visible through their glass fronts.
As quickly and quietly as she could, she began gathering various jars and bottles, amassing a small collection of different chemicals along with a large, cone-shaped beaker and a lab coat.
A list of instructions appeared on her HUD, guiding her on which chemicals to pour into the beaker and how much. Many of the components were magically enchanted, glowing with various hues of soft light, and soon the resulting mix was a swirling mass of different colours. Satisfied with her concoction, she set about tearing a strip from the lab coat. Her system calculated a rough estimate of how long the material would burn for, and she ripped the cloth appropriately.
Placing a stopper firmly in the neck of the beaker, she grabbed both her chemical mix and makeshift fuse in her mouth. The easy part was done. Now the hard part.
Emerging from the lab once again, she made her way to the hallway that connected to the atrium just in time to see the guard walk past. Peering around the corner, she watched him as he walked on. Quietly as she could, she crept out after him, staying far enough away so he wouldn't hear her hoofsteps. Luckily, it seemed that the late shift had made the guard drowsy and inattentive, since Sweetie followed him with relative ease 'til they reached the opening to the next hallway.
Darting into the shadows, she waited 'til the guard had moved on before continuing down the new hallway. This seemed to be the Chemistry labs, if the plaques were any indication. She arrived at the end of the hallway; a large window like the one she had entered through stood tall, overlooking the green.
Placing the beaker on the stone floor, she popped out the stopper before lowering the end of the rag into the mixture and leaving the rest to lie on the floor. With a quick burst of laser fire, the rag ignited, small flames scurrying along its length as a small timer appeared on her HUD, counting down the seconds she had to hide.
She took off as fast as she dared, fleeing down the hallway before moving into one of the smaller corridors leading off of it. Backing up as to not be seen but still able to observe the main corridor, she lay low and waited.
Her system had told her what the mixture was supposed to accomplish, but it did little to prepare her for the chassis rattling, 154-decibel boom that came. She could feel the tremors as they flowed through both the air and ground, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass from many of the classrooms as various equipment was disturbed.
The rumbling boom was joined by a shifting array of colours that cast eerie shadows over the walls, pulsing and undulating while letting off a loud pop or crackle every few seconds.
'It's like the world's loudest firecracker,' she though with a smirk.
Sure enough, over the noise she could make out the panicked shouts and galloping hooves of the guards as they came to find the source of the commotion. Sweetie watched like a predator from the shadows, counting them as they ran past. When the fourth guard had made himself known, she made her move, galloping like a bat out of Tartarus, her hoofsteps masked by the display behind her.
Taking a right on the walkway, she moved around the side of the atrium towards the large staircase at the end. Within seconds, she had bounded over to the desk, her motorised legs making short work of the distance.
She skidded to a halt before the terminal and got to work instantly. Flipping open her side panel, she pulled out a long black cord, extending it to its full length before jamming it into the correct socket on the terminal.
Instantly, she could feel the machine as her system filtered into it, making short work of the meagre computer defences it had. Before long, she could see the list of files and folders on her HUD, waiting for her to search through. The racket was still going on upstairs, though it was noticeably quieter. She could see smoke leaking from the walkway as the mixture reacted vigorously.
Drawing her attention to the interface, she began skimming the files, promptly locating a folder named 'Personnel'. Opening it up, she found two files: "Current" and "Dismissed". Ignoring the former, she quickly opened up the second, revealing the database within. She examined the list, realising it was in chronological order rather than alphabetical. She rushed through the list at a rate no normal pony could hope to match, scanning each entry before moving on.
"Come on, Professor. Where are you?" she muttered to herself. Her distraction was quickly running out of juice and it wouldn't take them long to figure out that somepony put it there.
At long last, the familiar name appeared on the list. Grinning to herself, she scanned the entry, committing the address to memory. With her objective complete, she withdrew her systems. Unplugging herself from the machine, she was about to begin her escape when her system flashed up, drawing her attention to a pile of leaflets on the desk. With a quick glance inside, she realised it was a map of the building, labelling all the departments. Her system took it all in, quickly filling in the gaps in her own map.
With that complete, she trotted back up the stairs, hoping to make her escape before they finished their examination of the flask. This was not to be however, as one of the guards chose this moment to walk around the corner. He spotted Sweetie instantly, his eyes widening in shock. Before he could open his mouth to shout to his colleagues, Sweetie made her move. Her horn flared, the weak laser beam striking him in the chest. He flew back, colliding with the wall before slumping to the ground with a groan.
Sweetie wasted no time in darting off. She heard the other guards exclaim in surprise, obviously having heard her scuffle with their friend. She heard shouting, but she was too focused on where she was going to listen. Galloping as fast as her hooves could manage, she barrelled through the Biology lab door, her eyes settling on the hole in the glass that signalled her escape route.
She started to run, bounding forwards as her system calculated the angles and numbers that she needed to make the jump. With a mighty kick, she leapt into the air. Her aim was spot-on, sending her sailing towards the hole, only to collide with something in mid-air.
She fell to the floor with a crash, the floor doing little to cushion the fall. Rubbing her muzzle, she looked up at the hole, just to see the force of her impact ripple across a field of blue magic. She scrambled over franticly, placing a hoof against the window, only to have it stop about a centimetre away by the same blue field.
They had a lock down spell. Of course they had a lock down spell. She groaned aloud in frustration. Nothing could get through that field short of the Princesses themselves. She brought up her map, scanning it for anything else that might present an escape route. All windows were out, as were the main doors and all side entrances. She scoured the map, but it was no use. The entire place would be completely sealed off from the outside world 'til the spell was stopped.
There was, however, still a chance. One of the guards was probably controlling the lock down spell. Such a spell would not be easy to maintain, especially on such a large scale. All she had to do was break his concentration long enough for her to escape. Looked like she was going to have to fight her way out after all.
She trotted towards the door and out into the hallway where she sat down to patiently wait for her pursuers.
She didn't have to wait for long. She heard their loud hoofsteps and laboured breathing well before they came into view. They stopped when they spotted her, her lack of action giving them pause, before they slowly began to approach.
"Hey there, little filly" he said, trying to make his voiceless threatening. "I'm sure you didn't mean to hurt our friend, but can you come with us? We'll get you home safe and sound, promise."
Sweetie smirked internally and decided to play along with the poor, scared filly they though she was.
"I'm sorry, Mister," she said weakly, casting her gaze down. "He scared me and my magic just knocked him away."
She looked up at the stallion, her tear duct tanks opening up to add to the performance. She grabbed a quick glance at her foes. The one talking to her was an earth pony, as was the second closest. To their right at the back was a unicorn, his horn wreathed in a familiar blue glow. Bingo.
She brought her gaze back to the guard in front of her. "Sorry about the flashy thing. I found some pretty glowy things in one of the labs." She frowned in the most adorable pout she could. "I don't think they liked being together." She heard him chuckle, a good sign that he was buying the story.
"Can you help me get home, Mister? I think I sprained my foreleg." She made a show of putting weight on her 'injured' foreleg, faking a whimper.
"'Course I can, dear," he said softly." Here, climb on my back. We'll get that leg fixed up and find out why you were left here."
He lowered himself so that she could climb on. She heard him grunt in surprise.
"Damn, filly, you're heavy," he huffed.
"Yeah, Mummy says I eat too many sweets." She giggled. If she could get a cutie mark, it should be in acting. This was almost too easy. She was lucky that he hadn't noticed the rubber joint on her legs in the gloom of the hallway.
With a grunt of exertion, he lifted her up and began to walk towards his fellow guards. With a nod to the others, they started making their way back to the atrium. With all three of them walking side by side, it was time to act.
"You wanna know something, Mister?" she asked innocently.
"What that?" he responded.
"You really shouldn't let strange fillies ride on your back."
"Huh?" he said, turning around to face her, only to be met by a hoof colliding with the side of his face at 74 miles per hour. Sweetie felt his body slacken beneath her as he lost consciousness. Before he could completely collapse, she pushed off, launching herself at the pony to her right, the second earth pony. Before he could react, she was already bringing both fore hooves down on his face, dispatching him just as easily as his friend.
Within 4.37 seconds, all that remained were Sweetie and the unicorn, standing on either side of the hallway. His face was one of bewilderment and shock; hers, a mask of determination.
"I'll only ask nicely once," she said. "Lower the lock down spell."
Her words shook the unicorn from his stupor as he turned to glare at her angrily. "And if I don't?" he asked.
In response, she gestured to his two felled comrades. She could have sworn she heard him gulp and she smirked.
Apparently, her smirk annoyed him somewhat, for he steeled his resolve.
"Not a chance, filly. You may have the advantage in a hoof fight, but I'm pretty sure I can out-magic someone as young as you."
This caused her to smirk even more. "Who said anything about using magic?" she scoffed. "You can keep your magic; I have laser beams."
His look of confusion was all the time Sweetie needed. A red beam shot out, striking the unicorn on the horn, causing him to yelp in agony as he stumbled back. When he looked up, he saw Sweetie barrelling towards him, hoof raised. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.
Letting out an unneeded breath, she turned away from the three unconscious stallions and made her way back to the lab. Without the spell to block her, it was easy to leap through the window, gripping to the wall outside with a stick pad as she passed. Hanging from the wall, she waited 'til the coast was clear before dropping to the ground and bounding towards the tree line.
Retrieving her cloak from its hiding spot, she donned the garment once more. With one final look at the building, she disappeared into the night.
