Cyber-Buck
By Narrative Lockheart.
Prolog:
Progress: As defined progress is the movement towards the actualization of a goal. I believe that behind all our motives is the need for progress. The hunger to seek advancement is at the core of who and what we are. For proof of this you need look no further than our own self-imposed necessity to discover our cutie marks.
We start our lives innocently enough, with nothing but a bare flank and a future open to endless possibilities. Placing so much meaning into such a little thing we believe that to go without would be as if we were living an incomplete life; a half-life. Demanding that we to be true to ourselves we come to find that it is not the machinations nature or magic that compels us to seek our destiny. It is our choice and ours alone.
Once we learn what lay before us and the path to our future presents itself we attempt to use our gifts in whatever ways we can. For what good comes from a talent if it is not used. But imagine if we had no intention to use it for the benefit of others. Would we still search for it, and accept whatever destiny has in store for us? I truly believe that we would. Should that belief be accurate then from this one possible truth we might learn that we are not compelled to seek progress for altruistic purposes, but for our own sakes.
As we look towards our future with wide eyes full of hope and wonder, believing that our nature will inherently allow us to improve upon ourselves we must ask. Will our search for progress bring us the satisfaction we believe it will? What will we do if the fate in store for us falls short of our dreams? And what do we risk losing of ourselves in order to initiate such growth? When confronted with these questions I begin to realize that our pursuit for progress is a hollow one indeed and despite all the wisdom we are said to possess I could find no answers.
But there is one unspoken question that links those that came before. It is but another circumstance that we have failed to conceive any possible solution for. But so singular and potent in its disturbing nature we are compelled only to omit it. We omit it in part out of fear and perhaps no small amount of blind hope that these events shall never come to pass. This question may never be answered, but I feel it must be asked none the less.
Will we be able to safeguard ourselves form the horrors we create or worse become all in the name of progress?
This question had never become so important than in the years following the coronation of Princess Twilight Sparkle. The peaceful land we had once known as Equestria had become lost to us. Neither decimation nor subjugation was the fate that befell our home. Instead our nation became corrupted and perverted until its own people became a pathetic farce; unrecognizable as the harmonious beings we once called ponies. Perhaps we could have done more to save ourselves; perhaps we should have foreseen where this path was leading us. And perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself.
Equestria still exists today though not as you would remember it, as dose the ponies that still walk its surface though seldom do they ever touch its fertile soil. Strife, violence and bigotry permeate the world in a miasma that has found its way into the hearts of ponies. But before I can tell you of our story you will need to learn where these changes began. You will need to know of the iron hoofed Mega-corps that hold Equestria under there sway, the cybernetics that infest every strata of pony society and most importantly you will need to know of the sparkle drives.
Within one lifetime we had come from a simple period of magic and harmony, to one of computers, industry and engineering. Intrigued by science and technology Princess Twilight Sparkle gave every available resource she possessed to the finest minds and researchers that Canterlot had to offer; believing that Equestria could only benefit from more knowledge. With the princess’s backing and influence the technological state of Equestria blossomed forth at an extraordinary rate as small towns and villages expanded into vast cities and sprawling metropolises.
More so now than ever before magically powered machines were needed to produce more products for Equestria. Technology, food and medicine were not only needed to be produced with greater efficiency but were also required to evolve as time passed. With a need for resources and materials on the rise new businesses and companies appeared in response to these growing demands.
Even with the expansion of small businesses and industries nopony could have ever predicted the most influential advancement of all. Home computers made of new sciences. The base of these new sciences focused well beyond the normal concepts of magically powering these machines of industry, but rather on combining both magic and technology together. These special computers were named after their creator. These computers were given the name of Sparkle Drive Systems.
The potential of merging technology and magic together was extraordinary as it allowed the Sparkle drive systems to put magic in the hooves of ponies that could otherwise never have used it. Over time magic had become less distinguishable from a special talent unique to only a hoof full of ponies then as an effective means to accomplish a chore. As the Sparkle Drive Systems changed how ponies viewed magic they had also begun to lay the ground work for the next big step in Equestrian history.
Within twelve years’ time after the Sparkle Drives were made available to the public extraordinary news came from Canterlot. The highest researchers spoke through tightened lips and hushed tones upon inquiries about their latest discovery. They would tell nopony about what they had unearthed in their laboratories, but secrets of this magnitude could not be held forever. Even to this day nopony knows quite how the scientists and researchers came about these radical new concepts, but once word had leaked of what they had begun testing in their labs they were forced to tell the princesses everything. It was here that everything changed.
What they discovered broke all the rules and taboos of modern medicine. Pony kind had found a path to improve themselves in ways that had never before been conceived as possible. We had thought then that Sparkle drives were the epitome of pony engineering, but they were just the first step before a massive leap into the future. Equestria had reached the technological singularity.
The ponies of Equestria found a method that (if done properly) could theoretically fuse working mechanical parts with living flesh. It was little more than a decade after Twilight sparkle had been crowned as a princess of Equestria that cybernetics were conceived not as a fanciful dream but as a real possibility. The potential for cybernetics far exceeded the use of Sparkle drive systems (no matter how practical they were) and compelled Princes Twilight to dedicate herself and many of Canterlots finest minds to make this dream a reality.
It would seem that the path to advancement is never as easy a road as we would like it to be. Months turned to years, and as time went by no progress was made. The countless grueling tests that were performed all ended in failures or inconclusive data. Marred by a track record of disappointments it was looking like the dream of cybernetics would stay just that. It was in the third year of testing before Princess Twilight was ready to declare the whole attempt a complete boondoggle. That was until news of the first series of successful tests returned.
Princess Twilight had become so elated by their success that she decided nay felt obligated to hold a grand celebration that lasted several days. Streamers were hung, silly hats were worn and cider flowed like rivers as the ponies partook in the festivities. Princess Twilight truly believed it to be the beginning of a new chapter of prosperity for Equestria, and reveled every moment of this monuments achievement. The joy however was not to last, and the time of celebration was short lived. As all good things come so too must the bad.
With these new cybernetics ponies that had become crippled by accidents or mishaps were given new more powerful limbs and bodies. These bodies made of chrome, metal and wires were able to out preform even the most athletic and strongest of ponies. Ostensibly this was received as one of the many positive outcomes as they found that one pony alone could buck apples from sunrise to sun set or clear the sky in “five” seconds flat and feel only minor fatigue if any.
It was from these benefits that our troubles came. If one pony could pull the weight of an entire work team then ideally there was no need to have a full staff. The outsourcing was subtle at first. One layoff one month, then two, then three; slowly but surely the jobs in Equestria began to dry up.
With the job market scarce the jobless ponies of Equestria descended into poverty. Granted living assistance by new tax laws the numerous disenfranchised ponies found little comfort in the meager amount they were forced to live on. An economic crisis that seemed to have no foreseeable end fell over Equestria. It wasn’t long before ponies became desperate, and in the grip of desperation ponies will do crazy things. As always if there is something that can be made to benefit others it could also be subverted for personal gain.
With Equestria in a state of turmoil a criminal element quickly emerged. Utilizing cybernetic implants as weapons the ponies became emboldened by their new physical might, and began to terrorize the good ponies of Equestria. However before too long the civilian ponies failed to yield enough of a profit for the criminals to target. Instead they elected to target the companies that produced these advanced technologies along with medical grade narcotics as they presented a much greater reword.
Companies like Bountiful Butterfly Pharmaceuticals, Tiaracorp and others found themselves under attack frequently and brutally by cybered up delinquents. New security measures were implemented to stave off this rabble, but it wasn’t enough. They just kept coming. The once unthinkable became a necessity for protection as security forces and police were forced to carry firearms, but still the crime wave still would not relent.
In order to protect their interests the corporations were forced to demand royal intervention. After many days and nights of contemplation the princesses could do nothing to arbitrate the problem. Even if it was for the greater good aggression against these ponies would only spark more bloodshed. And so they declared that form that point on the independent businesses were to be held responsible for their own goods and services.
No help came from Canterlot that day, and so the companies became desperate. And in the grip of desperation ponies will do crazy things. It was not long before the corporations divined a new way to protect there investments. With their backs against the wall they were forced to find aid outside of pony kind. That aid came in the form of griffins and cyberneticly altered diamond dogs.
Tiaracorp was the first to make effective use of these mercenaries. The dogs though stupid were amazingly mobile, while griffins held the advantage of flight as well as impressive combat prowess. Commanding both fear and respect griffins made even more effective leaders than any pony ever could. It was not long before every company, every business, and every corporation had their very own private army. Those who did not were picked off. Not just by criminals but by their rival companies as well. Somehow the main concern of Equestria had turned from industry and prosperity to a burgeoning arms race between criminals, companies and even Canterlot itself.
Protected as it was Canterlot had not been sheltered form the troubles that plagued the rest of Equestria. They had to contend with their own hardships and difficulties along the way. Coming under siege on all sides Canterlot was bombarded by every business that based there. The royal princesses and high born ponies found themselves over run, but not by weaponized cybernetics or cut throat mercenary forces. Instead the princesses had become assaulted by lobbyists, protesters and mountains of potions. All of which required the Royal seal of approval.
As time went on the demand for cybernetics, medicine and even weapons grew. The princess’s authorization was needed for everything from permits to licensing agreements and even copyrights. At the forefront of these arguments was the earth pony corps of engineers led by the ever growing Tiaracorp, and the unicorn science division of Canterlot. With declarations that stated that the U.S.D.C were infringing on earth pony engineering Tiaracorp appealed to the princesses to pass an edict that would regulate the further creation of magical based technology.
To this day I don’t know who to blame for this shortsightedness. The princess found in favor of Tiaracorp, and implemented their edict within a few short weeks. Unknown to anypony at the time this edict gave the earth pony corps of engineers a monopoly on nearly all future contracts and designs. This effectively halted the production of nearly all magically fused technology. The end result of witch terminated the further creation of any Sparkle drive systems. The magical technology industry shattered overnight. Sparkle drive systems quickly fell off the market and into obscurity. More jobs were lost, more ponies were driven to crime, and between the pony races a burgeoning resentment was beginning to form.
After this new law was passed earth pony technology boomed now that strict technologically based computers and cybernetics dominated the market. With access to cybernetics made more available the ponies who could afford it began purchasing more outlandish and superfluous implants as time went on. This new trend grew to the point that cybernetics were no longer just for prosthetics; they had now become a fashion statement.
We learned in those days that ethics and what’s right must always take a back seat when set against self-interest and profit. The ponies resorted to brute force invasive surgery in order to implant their new cybertech instead of the relatively safe yet difficult process of magically fusing technology into the body and with a list of growing side effects it became harder for some ponies to continue to trust this emerging fad.
Numerous ponies in Ponyville vilified cybernetics and those who used them. Believing cybernetics to be abhorrent they blamed them for driving good honest ponies to crime and insanity. After numerous occasions of requesting the princesses to ban the further use and distribution of cybertech aggression began to grow between Canterlot and the citizens of Ponyville. Until the day it all boiled over, the day they marched upon the castle.
The details of that day are sketchy and nopony really knows exactly what happened. What is known for certain is that day ended with the spilled blood of countless innocent ponies, and the princesses who were said to be so horrified and outraged by what had transpired decreed that the skies above Ponyville would be closed off forever as punishment for their crimes. On that day and every day since the Pegasus of Cloudsdale were forced by royal decree to cover the sky above Ponyville in a blanket of thick clouds blocking out both sun and moon.
After those events the ponies that survived the massacre returned home only to find themselves surrounded by enemies on all sides. No longer were they just against the firms, but also the royalty of Canterlot and the other ponies that lived in Ponyville as well. They were hated and reviled, cast out of civilized company and were declared as traitors of Equestria.
The traitorous ponies implored their fellow Ponyvillions to believe that they were innocent of these crimes. However earnest there pleas may have been they were still hated and despised as traitors, and as long as they lived in Ponyville the sky would be closed off forevermore. Embittered from their alienation by those they had sought to protect the Ponyville rebels vowed that they would never forget, they would never forgive and they would never leave. So the renegades fled into the dark places of Ponyville, and prepared to strike when the time was right.
The world has changed much since then. Well over fifty years have passed since the advent of cybernetics. More than fifty years since the sun last shined on Ponyville. And for nearly fifty years the princesses have stayed in seclusion within Canterlot Castle. Speaking to nopony and being seen by nopony. Their only noted actions as of this day have been the passing of new laws and raising the sun and moon. It is at this dark time that our story really begins. It begins with a young unicorn stallion named Bright-eyes, an emergency call, a chance encounter and a piece of old technology that would change Equestria one last time.
Chapter 1:
The call.
You know, a long time ago being crazy meant something. Nowadays everypony’s crazy.
The colossal buildings towered above the streets and walkways of New Ponyville. Had not the suns light been blocked by the dense cloud cover over head the buildings alone could have shrouded the entire city into darkness. The skies roiled in a massive sea of black and gray high above the towers and spires that jutted from the world’s surface. To most that lived there the imposing maze felt like living in the discarded bones of a massive creature made of steel and concrete, only punctuated by the oppressive gloom above. However despite the opaque vale that concealed the city to the heavens the blackened expanse had failed to condemn the city to eternal night. Instead its streets were kept alight in a wash of neon and florescence from the cityscapes trappings and contrivances.
Darting through traffic on his motorcycle, engine roaring with the fierceness of a dragon Bright-eyes paid no notice to the gaudy displays. Living in Ponyville all his life he had become far too aware of its tainted nature; of the corruption lying just beneath the luminous signs and chrome pillars. He knew all to well that the city, though seemingly insurmountable was falling apart from the inside. With its citizens being constantly terrorized by vicious gangs and corrupt security forces Bright-eyes would not allow himself to be awed by the city’s fabricated grandeur. He however could not begrudge the other citizens for choosing to be taken in by in the city’s bounteous distractions. Living beneath the dreary skies of New Ponyville was bad enough but the delinquency that consumed the city slowly began to eat away at your spirit.
The stores, shops and stalls that lined the city streets stood ready to provide what they could for their customers. Supplying nourishment when needed, technology when desired and companionship when requested it was all anypony could do to divert attention away from the fact that they may be robbed for their last bit as they walked out their door. This was the bleak reality of New Ponyville, of the darkness above and below.
Things were what they were and it was for this reason Bright-eyes was what he was. He was not going to stand by and watch as good pony folk were shaken down just for walking the streets at night. And so he rode his bike with its black and white paint, pair of blue and red lights mounted in front and letters that read N.P.V.P.D in large gold print on its sides, boldly announcing him as a proud member of the New Ponyville police department.
He loved his bike, but one particular aspect of it he enjoyed more than any other. Though it was loud and imposing, while riding it he would be seen as a pony that demanded to be treated with respect. He was after all a pony that worked for the safety and protection of others and despite his young appearance was somepony to be reckoned with.
The wind blew heavily as Bright-eyes sped off down the crowded city streets. The force of the breeze buffeted against the opaque black visor of his helmet, while the intense whooshing of air had nearly drowned out the sounds of the city around him. He would glance only periodically at the mélange of consumers and venders that flanked the cross sections he stopped at. Tech stores, restaurants and clothing shops in particular lined the downtown aria. Several of them were adorned with extravagant neon lights and holographic signs that told of upcoming sales and new products that were a must have.
He caught a passing glimpse of a series of billboards that lined the street facing building sides. They beheld images of gorgeous mares with an overabundance of cybernetic implants. All of which were seamlessly integrated into their bodies with no visible lines of where their coats ended and the metal began. One such billboard Bright-eyes couldn’t help but be distracted by was of an absolutely stunning holographic bleach white earth pony mare making kissy faces and posing in random clips with the model’s seductive voice playing in a loop.
“Synth coat. Love the skin you’re in and don’t want to change? Now you don’t have to. New from Tiaracorp. Soft, silky and luxurious. Your implants will be our little secret.”
Between the wind, lights and the saucy billboard it took him a while to notice that his headset was ringing. Pulling over to the nearest curb Bright-eyes removed his helmet, being extra careful to take it off properly in order for his horn to clear the hole that accommodated unicorn officers. Bright-eyes tapped his earpiece with a hoof listening to the channel clear of static as the tinny voice of his departments dispatch mare spoke.
“This is dispatch calling all available officers. We’ve got a 225 in progress on 221 Trotting way. Repeat we have a 225 on 221 Trotting way.”
Bright-eyes instantly recalled the code for assault with a deadly weapon and immediately responded. “This is officer Bright-eyes.” He recited in a clear crisp tone. “Roger that 225 on 221 Trotting way. I’m on route now. E.T.A about four minutes maybe less.” He looked around at the street signs to get his bearings while trying to remember where Trotting way was relative to his location.
“Roger that. Officers are currently on root now. Approximated time of arrival two min-… Wait cancel that!” A pregnant pause came over the headset briefly before she returned with. “We’ve got confirmation. The 225 has escalated to 187. Repeat 187 at 221 Trotting way. Please exercise caution.”
Bright-eyes repeated the update of homicide and prepared to take off, but paused when his thoughts picked apart her words. Something nagged at the back of his mind. What she had said seemed odd somehow. It was a small thing at first, but the more he thought about it the more strongly he felt that something wasn’t right. “No pony would stay on the phone while they were being murdered.” He reasoned. “And even if they did protocol dictates you can’t officially confirm murder just by sounds over the phone. Beyond that she said that nopony was on the scene yet. So who confirmed it?”
Bright-eyes conscious mind didn’t know why he let this one inconsistency bother him so much, but one thing he learned many years ago was that if something didn’t sound right it probably wasn’t. It wasn’t that he distrusted the dispatch mare; he just trusted his instincts more. His gut told him this smelled all wrong.
While letting his mind analyze her words more closely Bright-eyes tried to remember what he already knew about the aria. Low income apartments, little law enforcement presence and therefor no small amount of dubious characters doing or selling all manner of disreputable things. Bright-eyes mind hitched on one possible scenario. He didn’t hear anything in her words that would indicate or justify his reasons for thinking of this, but it did unsettlingly fit the bill, and if he was right it would be far worse than just a random murder.
He shook his head trying to clear away those thoughts. “Easy B-e.” He whispered to himself. “You don’t need that right now.” He tried to push those thoughts out of his mind, not wanting to jinx himself and make it more of a problem than it already was. “It’s probably nothing. Just home invasion or something stupid that got out of hoof.” Those thoughts however died as he heard the dispatcher’s metallic voice return. This time she was much louder and frantic instead of the calm monotone she usually employed.
“EMERGANCY ALL AVAILABLE UNITS! Confirmed multiple 187s and a 217 in progress at 221 Trotting way. Repeat all available units 187 and 217 at 221 Trotting way! Suspect is a light green unicorn mare with reports of cybernetic implants. Approach with extreme caution! Suspect is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous! ”
He cursed his instincts for being right. “No wonder there was a confirmation of murder. If the info’s correct there’s at least a dozen or more ponies calling in and demanding that somepony to come and deal with it. Not to mention the Luna be damned media would be drooling allover themselves wanting to cover all the graphic details.” With all the speed he could muster Bright-eyes flung his helmet back on, placed his forelegs into the hoof cuffs of his motorcycle, arched his hoof to rev the engine and sped off with his sirens blaring. His actions were so reflexive he didn’t even have time to respond to the call of 217; assault with intent to murder.
Bright-eyes mind was bitterly focused as he weaved in and out through the traffic of motor carts and wagons. He let the roaring of his engine fuel his adrenaline filling him with energy. The street lights traced lines across his vision as he sped on down the busy city streets. He knew how other police ponies were going to respond to the call. They would think it was just some cybercriminal causing mayhem, but Bright-eyes knew better. He had seen situations like this dozens of times before in all their vehemence and butchery he knew to expect the moment he arrived.
No matter how many times the calls came in the same actions were always taken by his fellow officers. They would draw their weapons and try to talk down the suspect. It was protocol, but their training was going to get them killed. They were going to walk straight into a slaughter. Then no pony would be able to stop the madness. He had to get there fast.
A series of three quick chirps from Bright-eyes head set rang in his ear. It was different than the bland triple chime of the department dispatcher’s ring tone. He looked at the dash of his cycle, and Instead of what should be the digital readout of his bike’s clock it displayed an array of channels and settings for different communications systems; all linked into the department’s radios. All except one. It had no return call number or address. Its only method for determining who the mysterious caller was came from the cryptic flashing bright green words; unknown caller. However Bright-eyes expected this call. This caller was in fact well known to him.
Removing his right foreleg from one of the circular cup like receptacle that acted as a steering mechanism he quickly pressed the answer call button on his radio. Replacing his hoof back into its proper place Bright-eyes narrowly weaved in between two wagons which had come to a sudden stop in front of him. With New Ponyville’s traffic being severely congested even on the best of days to have the inability to steer for even a second was a huge risk.
He greeted his caller with a business like minuteness to his words which belied their familiarity with one another. He didn’t take the time be cordial with her at first. Not until he had become as informed of the situation as he knew she was. However she quickly degenerated his business like candor into pointless bickering in seconds.
“Keystrokes that you?” He asked.
“No! This is your singing telegram I hope it finds you well. You’re invited to a party because we think you’re really swell. Yes it’s me! Who would you expect it to be?”
“Sorry.” Bright-eyes apologized hearing the sharp bite of frustration in her voice just passed the heavy handed sarcasm present in her impromptu song. “Sounds like you’ve had a bad night. What’s wrong? One of your screens black out again?”
“My screens are in great condition I’ll have you know… I did spill a drink on my keyboard though.” She corrected. “Anyway enough chatter. It’s not important and doesn’t matter. You’ve probably already got the news. You must hurry there’s no time to lose!”
“Key?” Bright-eyes asked grimly. “It’s what I’m thinking isn’t it? Please tell me I’m being paranoid again, and it’s just a robbery gone wrong or something!”
A silence came over the head set before she returned with. “Your first instinct was right… You’d best prepare for a fight.”
Bright-eyes sighed with disquieted angst as a slight tingle of dread tickled his back. He let his head drop slightly giving him a moment to mentally prepare himself for the probable blood bath he was about to trot into. All he could do was try to make it through alive, get any civilians to safety and come out in one piece. He knew it wasn’t going to be as simple as that though. It never was.
Weaving in and out of traffic Bright-eyes tried to navigate the busy city streets while Keystrokes called out directions at him, but every time he tried to focus on the road his mind called forth images of previous cases. He recalled a particularly disturbing case from his first year. He had responded to a call not too dissimilar to this one. Assault with intent to murder and a few ponies confirmed dead at the scene. At the time he thought it was exciting. He always wanted to take on a real killer. Like doing that would make him a real cop, and that maybe he would get higher profile cases if he took the perp down.
He cursed himself for his ignorance and naiveté back then. Wishing he had known then what he knew now. He wasn’t ready to handle that kind of case. He wasn’t ready to experience the evils that one pony could do to another. What he saw that night could never be unseen.
Walls painted with blood, patches of fur and flesh strewn about the room and the flayed remains of an entire family were cut into sections and stacked into a pile on their living room floor. There were bodies of a mother a father and even foals in amongst the gore. The memory of dismembered hoofs, heads and entrails twisted his stomach into knots. It looked like an unhallowed sacrificial offering to some warped or blasphemous god.
Of all these sights that haunted him none more so than the cold unfeeling eyes of the pony that committed these horrible acts. No, not unfeeling; quite the opposite in fact. There was defiantly some vivacious quality to her stair as she stood atop the pile of gore leering at him. Her blood covered face haunted him in his nightmares even to this day, but her grotesque visage was nearly interchangeable with other cases that he had since been called on to deal with. She glared at him with a look of manic glee as if she had no remorse for the heinous actions she had committed. The look joy and crazed focus in those eyes said to him that she wasn’t finished yet. Not by a long shot.
He never wanted to see that kind of nightmare again. To haft to face down that kind of insanity was his greatest personal fear. A fear he shared with nopony; except for Keystrokes. Most ponies knew the dangers, and took all possible precautions to avoid these kinds of events. Nevertheless no matter the steps taken to avoid it, or how low the odds were it just kept happening. And it was his job to clean up the mess. He hated it.
“You’re going to miss the turn!” Keystrokes yelled in his ear. Bright-eyes skillfully leaned hard to the right causing his tires to let out a shrill screech as he turned. The quick angle adjustment forced him to cutoff some random (now very furious) red Pegasus in a motor wagon. With his thoughts about the past taking up his concentration he had almost missed the turn off that would take him strait to Trotting way. “Honestly won’t you ever learn? I swear if it wasn’t for me… well… I don’t know where you’d be.”
Bright-eyes mouthed her words, silently mocking her. She was always chastising him over one thing or another, and he had gotten to a point where her whining was more like white noise. Still even after years of working with her he couldn’t tune her out no matter how hard he tried; and he tried a lot. This time he felt differently. He was grateful that her nagging pulled him out of his thoughts. He couldn’t risk going back there, not now anyway. He needed to be sharp and concentrate on the here and now. His enemy wasn’t going to give him the chance to think, and if he wanted to get out alive he would haft to be quick, clever and focused on surviving.
Bright-eyes pulled up to Trotting way in record time. He estimated four minutes but beat it by one. Still two minutes too late as he saw the fight with the perpetrator had spilled out into the streets. The scene was as violent as he imagined. Trails of blood ran from inside the nearby apartment building out into the street. The body of a dark blue unicorn with vanilla blond mane lay face down blocking the threshold of the door way. The street itself was littered with nearly a dozen bodies of what looked like police, civilians and the remains of a news crew that had failed to reconvene to the relative safety of their wagon before being chopped into crouton sized chunks of pony flesh.
Bright-eyes saw that there were at least three remaining police ponies still attempting to apprehend the suspect. By the state of the street they had obviously been unlucky in that endeavor. Bright-eyes surveyed the carnage, and with morbid accuracy he could tell that at least four of the pony corpses belonged to the news crew, three of them were random civilians and the three standing police ponies at one point use to number six. There was no telling how many more were dead inside, but Bright-eyes didn’t want to go find out; if only to save himself from the loss of his own sanity.
“Celestia damn it!” He cursed himself for his tardiness. Removing his helmet while hoping off of his motorcycle Bright-eyes caught a better idea of what the light green unicorn cyborg was capable of as she completely butchered one of his fellow officers. She bucked one of them in the chest as he approached her from behind. As he reeled from her kick she spun around, lunged out with her foreleg (which was adorned with a shiny blade protruding from the cleft of her hoof) and pierced clean through his neck with the tip of the blade pointing out the other side. The other police ponies watched in horror as she wrenched it from his throat, eliciting a chocked gargling noise as he grabbed at his neck; blood pouring out of his mouth. He smeared the blood as his hooves clawed at his throat. The dark red contrasted with his fur’s natural green hue. With a dancers grace she spun around him, placed a hoof against the back of his head and slammed it into the ground with a resounding gory crack. The officer’s skull split open leaking torrents of blood from both wounds. “That was overkill.” Bright-eyes thought to himself.
The unicorn began to stomp and buck her victim furiously. There was no point to her unceasing brutality. The cop had died when his head became acquainted with the ground, but she didn’t care. The look in her eye said that she just wanted to beat something; be it alive or not. The two remaining officers had stopped trying to reason with her entirely at that point. Electing instead to pull their guns and discharge as many shots as they could in hopes of dropping the crazed mare.
Due to their fear they were hard pressed to strike any part of her accurately. With their aim sending bullets sporadically flying in all directions they failed to strike even the few exposed areas her body possessed. Bright-eyes knew better then to throw himself in the middle of all that. Instead he watched and waited quietly, observing how best to deal with his enemy. Like a shadow in the dark he stood amidst the carnage completely undetected by both police and mad unicorn.
Bright-eyes noticed that even their lucky hits weren’t doing any good, and it didn’t take him long to see why. Her body was almost completely incased in a patchy metal armor, with little more than an inch or two of her own hide still visible in places. But her coverings were the least of his worries. It wasn’t just the disjointed aegis that incased this pony that made Bright-eyes hesitant or the unicorn so fierce. It was her state of mind. That was enough make Bright-eyes reluctant to engage her.
This unicorn exhibited all the signs that she was no longer in control of her actions. She made no response to any calls to stop (not even the occasional expletive). Her lack of hesitation or mercy and swift brutality to all who got near was clear enough to tell anypony she wasn’t in her right mind.
But what reason did she have to behave so erratically? That too was clear for Bright-eyes to see. It was the same reason as to why she was so dangerous in the first place. She possessed an overwhelming assortment of cyberneticly enhanced weapons and body parts.
Her right eye was replaced with a dull gray optic implant as well as much of her skull and back was swapped out for metal plating, allowing for only a small amount of her mane and coat to be visible. Compounding that all four of her legs (even the section of flank that once held her cutie mark) were removed entirely for glistening new blood stained ones that somehow managed to have modified sections where a rotating saw blade and combat knife unfolded from her hooves.
She used her weapons with impunity and a vicious fervor that made it apparent that whoever she may have been once that pony was long gone now. She had lost herself to the implants becoming a whirling dervish of death and destruction. She had gone Cyber-psycho.
Bright-eyes was more than familiar with her kind and saw an advantage being outside. As far as he could tell the cyberneticaly altered unicorn was only dangerous at close quarters combat, and didn’t look like she possessed any ranged weapons. His side arm however was not going to be much use against her. It was obvious that standard low caliber bullets that the officers were using weren’t able to penetrate as every shot that hit just glanced off her metal body parts. Knowing he wouldn’t last long against the physically modified pony in a hoof to hoof brawl Bright-eyes looked around for any way to get off the street. He had to find higher ground. If he could get up and out of her line of sight he might have a chance to end this pony’s savage frenzy. Saving the other officers lives would be a bonus.
After a few seconds of surveying the scene his salvation came in the form of a fire escape just down an alleyway full of dumpsters and refuse behind him. He might have missed it had Keystrokes not called his attention to its existence. Bright-eye’s horn glowed with a translucent green aura as he wrapped a telekinetic field around a sizeable case that he stored on the back of his bike. Liberating it from its fastenings he levitated it with him as he galloped down the grungy alley. Sparing no time he channeled his inner rodeo show pony opting to jump over the hurdles of garbage and waste in his way rather than running around them.
Skidding to a stop Bright-eyes came just beneath the fire escape. Placing his case beside him he tried to pull the ladder down with his magic. His attempts yielded no results aside from causing the ladder to wobble stiffly. He trotted a few steps away in order to see what was keeping it in place. A small rusty looking silver box clung to the ladder with a metal loop connecting it to the frame of the fire escape. “Locked. Damn!”
Not wanting to be discouraged so easily Bright-eyes looked around for something he could use as a boost. A set of dumpsters lined the wall just beside the ladder. Leaping on to the closest one he vaulted off its lid and attempted to grab the end of the fire escape’s ladder. The ladder was locked in place annoyingly high up, so it was little wonder that his jump failed to grant him the height he needed. It was not the first time that he had cursed himself for being born a unicorn instead of a Pegasus, but that thought was for different reasons than height constraints. Thinking fast he levitated the case and positioned in front of him trying to use its flat surface as a spring board. This tactic didn’t work as well as he had hoped, as it gave only a little resistance to his kickoff. The force of which caused the case to fall out of his telekinetic grip and hit the ground with a loud thump. With his momentum dying he saw a slim chance to reach. Abandoning all standard techniques Bright-eyes managed to catch the lowest of the ladders steps in his mouth. With a loud mettle clang ringing in his ears and his jaw screaming in pain Bright-eyes hung from the ladder dangling helplessly swinging slightly like a sad pony piñata.
“Tell me the truth. Did you chip a tooth?” Keystrokes voice taunted Bright-eyes over his ear piece.
“Er reerry hert yerr.” Bright-eyes mumbled with the foul rust coated metal step clenched between his teeth. He wondered just how she could be so cavalier when other ponies were depending on him. It was better that thought taking up his attention then dwelling on what kind of pestilence encrusted horror he just bit down onto… And that taste.
Before his dental strength could give out Bright-eyes quickly hooked his forelegs around the bottom step and tried to pull himself up. His levitation was criminally weak and nowhere near strong enough to lift him up by itself, forcing him to let his back end dangle as he tried to climb the ladder.
As Bright-eyes held on he could still hear the fight going on out in the street. From what little of the auditory bedlam he could make out he could guess that the fight was going poorly for the other officers. The sounds of screaming, metal scraping against asphalt, the squelch of blood and crack of breaking bones painted a gruesome picture in his mind as he struggled to hold on to the ladder. With the sounds competing with his other senses for dominance Bright-eyes found it nearly impossible to concentrate. He could feel himself slipping.
“You mother fucking monster. Leave him alone he’s already dead!” The voice of one of the officer ponies broke through the noise as she cursed out the psycho. The shrill sounds of her words were heavy with sadness, anger and fear. The wet crunch of the psycho’s metal limbs repeatedly smashing into the other officer’s corps returned to the forefront of Bright-eyes perceptions. He couldn’t fall. Not now. He couldn’t risk losing any more time. Regaining his determination and focus Bright-eyes hoisted himself up, and step by step began to climb the ladder.
Once one of his back legs managed to find perches on the lowest step he scrambled up the ladder to the first tier of metal walkways. Casting another telekinetic field around his case Bright-eyes dashed up the stairs lifting it up with him while he climbed. As he zigzagged up the stairs he couldn’t help but glance at the perplexed looking ponies through the windows while he ascended. Some were no doubt wondering what he was doing out there while others hid so as to not get involved with the events outside.
In no time at all he had reached the roof and proceeded to find a view point. After having found a nice spot on the front left corner of the roof Bright-eyes placed down his large case and popped the locks with his magic. Inside the box was a large black rifle in three pieces (four if you counted the scope) with a gratuitous amount of bullets, clips and speed loaders lining its roof. He levitated each section and in seconds he had a fully assembled Phillydelphian bolt action sly shooter sniper rifle. “If this doesn’t drop her nothing will.” His lips slowly curled into a devious grin as he beheld his gun; as a foal would after thinking of a malicious prank. Leering over the edge of the roof he eyed the relative positions of everypony down there. “That is if I can manage to get a clean shot”.
Despite his words Bright-eyes wasn’t too worried. He knew where his destiny laid. His cutie mark told him that long ago. With the image of a crosshair blatantly adorning his flank there was little debate as to what his special talent was.
Levitating the scope from its slot he thought on it for a moment only before putting it back into its proper place. “Choosing to use your own eyes? Why is that not a surprise?” Quickly shifting glances left and right Bright-eyes looked around trying to find what Keystrokes was viewing him from. He noticed a swiveling street camera that was bolted onto the adjacent building. The city had built several of such cameras spread all across New Ponyville with the intention of catching delinquents or speeding wagons. However this particular camera wasn’t looking at the street but instead focused straight at him.
“It’s bad enough that you eavesdrop on me constantly, but hacking a camera to spy on me. Now that’s just uncouth.” He chuckled while positioning himself on his haunches, rifle but resting against his shoulder.
Bright-eyes saw the mashed body of the officer the psycho had knifed. It was now an unrecognizable barely pony shaped lump of bloody flesh. The other two officers had finally lost their nerve and began backing up to retreat. The insane unicorn turned and began to search for a new target for her rage. The youngest officer a golden yellow earth pony mare had somehow lost her gun and had become disoriented in her panic-stricken attempt to flee. She bounded left and right not certain where to go. It was her frantic motions that drew the psycho’s attention towards her. Bright-eyes perched his rifle against the ledge and carefully lined up his shot. His horn glowed with a pale green light as he focused his eyes on looking for a weak spot.
Normally ponies wouldn’t use rifles. Most would stick to using mouth held pistols with bit grip attachments (like the officers below). But Bright-eyes preferred the arched handle model of hand guns and rifles to bit guns any day. Being a unicorn his magic allowed him to use manual trigger guns that were meant for dogs and griffins. The better ammo capacity, penetration and control made fights so much easier. Not to mention he didn’t haft to deal with the recoil hurting his jaw after every shot. The ladder took care of that all by itself.
Bright-eyes watched as the youngest officer pony slowly crawled backwards attempting to flee. The psycho had her fill of pounding the dead officer into paste. She wanted a live specimen and began to advance on fleeing mare. An intense look of crazed joy that Bright-eyes had come to understand as ubiquitous to such ponies had consumed the unicorns face, contorting it into a deranged toothy sneer. The young mare backed up as far as she could go until her rear bumped against the large brick wall of the apartment building from which the psycho had come from.
With the psycho blocking her way forward the young mare could do nothing but cower as she approached. Bright-eyes focused his aim to the back of the psycho’s head. He saw his opportunity. He needed to shoot now.
A series of familiar dull chimes suddenly rang into Bright-eyes ears startling him, effectively breaking his concentration. The start caused the rifle to twitch making him miss. A loud crack echoed all around him. The ponies on the ground (except for the psycho) looked around in a panic; no doubt wondering who and where the shooter was. “You’ve got to be bucking kidding me right now.” Bright-eyes grunted as he taped his ear piece, reloaded his rifle and tried to regain focus. “You had better have a damn good reason for calling me right now.” He barked.
“Watch your tone officer!” Commanded an authoritative mare; her voice latent with a mixture of agitation and condescension. “You’re on thin ice with me as it is Bright light. Don’t press your luck right now.”
Bright-eyes expected it wasn’t Keystrokes calling him, but what he didn’t expect was the voice he heard shouting back at him in a volume that mirrored the fabled royal Canterlot voice. Recognizing it as the current chief of the New Ponyville police Shield Flash, he adopted a more professional if not slightly indignant tone. “Sorry boss mam, but I’m kind of in the middle of something right now. Now if you don’t mind, I need to put you on hold for a sec while I give somepony a 35 caliber lobotomy.”
“That’s what I’m calling about. You’re not needed there anymore. I’m ordering you to stand down.”
Bright-eyes paused for a moment while he took in what he had just heard. Tapping his earpiece in disbelief thinking it just glitched out on him he repeated her previous statement. “I’m… I’m sorry I must not have heard you correctly. Did you-- Did you just tell me to stand down?”
“Affirmative.” Shield flash responded.
“You do know what’s going on right now, don’t you? Let me enlighten you just in case you haven’t heard.” Bright-eyes let a sharp furious tone enter his voice, which he didn’t notice until he was nearly yelling at her. “There’s an overzealous veggie chopper down here that’s just torn through at least half a city block, and plans to do the same to anypony else she comes across, including our own officers. I’ve got a clear shot right now, but from what I’ve just heard you want me to sit back and watch them get puréed?”
“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it. I’m telling you to stand down and let someone else have this one.”
At this Bright-eyes was utterly aghast. It was unlike her, and made no sense as to why she would tell him to hold off just to stroke the ego of somepony else. “What?! Since when do you play favorites? Who wants this? Butter nut?” Butter nut an overzealous earth pony whose father had connections with some of the more hoity-toity types in Canterlot had been complaining for months that he couldn’t get higher profile cases; which caused no end of headaches for Bright-eyes as well as most of the other officers. There was once a plan in place to shove a sock in his mouth, duct tape it shut and throw him into the mare’s bathroom, but never panned out because nopony wanted to pay the seven bits for a roll of the good silver reflective stuff.
“He couldn’t hit the broad side of a-” “It’s not Butter nut!” She reassured him. Bright-eyes felt relieved at that statement. “Well if it’s not Butter nut than who the hell is so damn import--” Suddenly something clicked in his mind. Bright-eyes caught a word out of place that she had let slip. “Hold up! Someone… Not somepony?” He heard her curse faintly over the headset. Before she could say anything to deny it he belted out.
“Who did you sublet this case to if it wasn’t one of our own?”
“It’s none of your business! I gave you an order and I expect you to obey it!”
“I think it is my business!” He yelled back. This time not trying to hide his anger he let lose with all the furry he could muster. “And what about the ponies down there, is it their business? What am I supposed to do? Just say okee dokee lokee and pack it in?”
“Yes!” Shield flash took in a deep breath and continued with a slower and more even tone. “Look I’m sorry to ask you to do this, but you can’t do anything for them right now.”
“To Tartarus I can’t!” Bright-eyes screamed.
“Bright-eyes I’m serious the dogs are on their way, if their fast enough--”
“Wait! DOGS!? Since when do you take orders from corporate sec-?”
“Since I say so!” She interrupted. “And since I’m your boss YOU WILL stand down now and let the security forces do their jobs. You’re done there!”
Bright-eyes seethed as an uneasy silence fell over the headset. This was beyond intolerable. He was being put on the back burner for a bunch of mangy animals. Not even mentioning what by extension her actions were doing to the other officers. With the minor pause Bright-eyes weighed the situation in his mind. He could just put his gun down and wait for the dogs to rip her apart. It’s not like they weren’t capable or willing to cause some damage. The few he ever spoke to seemed all battle lust and bravado. But then there was still the matter of the ponies down below. They couldn’t wait.
Shield flash must have construed Bright-eyes silence as a statement outright defiance as she broke the com silence. “THAT’S AN ORDER OFICER BRIGHT-EYES! You’re to pass this case over to-”
Bright-eyes nickered while rolling his eyes. Tapping his ear piece he switched the channel cutting her off in mid-sentence. “Key you heard that right?” He knew this wasn’t going to end well. Shield flash didn’t like being ignored.
“I did indeed. Tell me what you need.”
“Make her eat static until I’m done K!” He said through gritted teeth, his voice more bitter and angry than ever. He figured that a com malfunction would be an acceptable excuse for disobedience. It would be easier to explain how the random static sounded like a countermand of her previous orders than living with himself if he followed through with them.
“I don’t like to interfere with police channels you know.” Keystrokes protested. “But I’ll do it if you say so.”
“Thanks Key. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
“Cross your heart and hope to fly?”
“Stick a cupcake in my eye.” Bright-eyes grinned childishly as he finished her silly rhyme.
Switching his headset back Bright-eyes listened to his boss rant on as Keystrokes went to work quickly degrading her words into the unintelligible buzzing and crackling of white noise. “Thanks Key.” He whispered to himself while reasserting his focus on the psycho.
The psycho had cornered the young officer. She was taunting her with quick darting motions with the knife in her left hoof and sweeping waves of the saw blade in her right. As she drew nearer the young mare’s partner a grey earth pony stallion hesitated to move. He looked like he was on the verge of either dashing at the psycho blindly, or running away in terror. He stood nearly motionless just taking in events as they came. Bright-eyes assumed he would make a move the moment he needed to, but wasn’t going to chance him taking the ladder option.
Closing his eyes Bright-eyes exhaled slowly and focused his thoughts on how the next few seconds were going to play out. Regaining his composure he drew in a breath of air, held it and zeroed in on the base of the psychos skull. He saw his target clearly as he timed his shot. The psycho lifted her hoof and prepared to strike. Staring down the notch of his rifle Bright-eyes released his breath in time with the shot. The loud crack of his rifle reverberated all around him once more.
His heart leaped in his chest as he realized the trajectory of the bullet was slightly off. It had lodged itself into the wall just behind the officer’s head. “Shit!” he thought. “I missed.” He had missed just a centimeter off but was enough to leave the psycho completely unharmed. He couldn’t reload fast enough. The rifle he used was powerful enough to plow its way through an engine block, but that power came at a price. In order for it to hit with such force it was made with a chamber only big enough for one bullet; a crippling design flaw to say the least. Bright-eyes watched time slow to a crawl as the psycho plunged her knife into the officer.
Bright-eyes slowly reopened his eyes as a cold sweat rolled down his forehead. He saw the young officer cowering before the psycho unharmed but terrified. Those images his thoughts conjured up ate at him. If he missed her blood would be on his hooves. He pushed those thoughts to the side, but they didn’t leave. His horn glowing with radiant green light Bright-eyes focused solely on his target as his doubts quietly whispered at the back of his mind. While zeroing in on the base of the psycho pony’s skull something caught his eye. A small section of exposed skin barely the width of a bit was visible just a few centimeters from the center of her skull. Its pale furlessness stood out like a beacon in the night against the silvery sheen of her implants. It was almost as if it was taunting him to strike it, and he didn’t like to be taunted.
“Please…P- Please don’t hurt me.” The young mare begged as she cowered, her head held down in a penitent gesture. The cyber-psycho didn’t seem to be moved by her pleads for mercy as a manic grin overtook her face. The toothy sneer drew the officers gaze away from her real eye and the look of pure hatred within. Lifting the hoof with the protruding blade attached the psycho made a quick jab for her head. The officer’s legs turned to jelly. She couldn’t move. She could only close her eyes and flinch as she prepared for the inevitable sting to end her life; as it did with her other comrades.
She lay trembling in fear for a few seconds, then a few more. Nothing happened. The officer slowly reopened her eyes to see the blade had stopped mere inches from her face. The psycho wasn’t moving. She seemed almost frozen. Like a cardboard cutout from some two bit horror movie she held her weapon out to strike, but didn’t. Curiosity outweighing her fear the young officer reached out and touched the psycho lightly with a hoof; only for her would be assassin to slump to the ground and lay perfectly still. She was dumbfounded and completely unsure of what had just happened. So pronounced was her fear that she had completely blocked out all outside senses. She had completely failed to hear the thundering bang of the rifle that slew the pony which lay before her.
“Daisy are you alright? Are you hurt?” Her partner dashed over towards her veering around the unicorn’s body. The young officer Daisy Blossom was still in shock and didn’t respond to his repeated queries. She sat staring with eyes vacant of emotion. Looking only at her hooves she began touching her face lightly as if she wasn’t able to register if she was still in reality. Trying to assure herself that she was not in fact dead she bent her ear back painfully. The small pinching ache came and went. Reinforced only by her belief that dead ponies don’t feel pain she was certain that she was still among the living.
Rapping Daisy in a firm hug the older officer calmly whispered in a low comforting baritone. “It’s ok, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.” With those words her mind slowly returned to the world around her. She looked at the psycho’s body over her partners shoulder. For a moment the cadaver didn’t seem real. She had never before seen a corps outside of pictures. “Don’t look at that!” He said positioning her head away from the dead psycho. The hug continued for several more seconds, giving Daisy time to let it sink in that she was safe. She placed a hoof to her partner’s firm chest and looked into his eyes. The stony faced elder stallion smiled slightly. With that simple facial gesture she let emotional dam brake.
Sobbing into her partners shoulder, burying her face into the padded Kevlar vest that made up his uniform she hugged him tightly wailing. “I WAS SO SCARED. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.” “That’s it let it all out.” He said patting her head softly, letting her sob in his embrace. “I- I-I”. She stammered eyes welling up with tears. “I didn’t know what to do. I just froze.” “Shush it’s all over now. It’s all ok.” She rested her head upon his shoulder until her tears stopped.
Once Daisy’s weeping subsided into little more than trembling breaths and sniffling the older officer asked if she was willing to help him search for survivors. To which she said nothing, only nodded timidly. The two officers systematically inspected the bodies looking for any signs of life. The psycho had been brutally efficient. The ponies whose bodies were intact had either been stabbed in immediately lethal arias or had their heads caved in by their assailant’s metal hooves. With a few minutes of searching and no survivors found they resolved to inspect the unicorn’s corps.
“Don’t touch it!” A voice called out. With adrenaline still surging through her vanes Daisy jumped hiccupping in surprise. Quickly she jerked her head towards a shadowy alley from which the words had originated. “Who’s there?” The deep voiced senior officer shouted. His light purple eyes shifted left and right as he reached for his gun he had reattached to his breast holster. With gun in mouth he pointed the barrel down the alley at a figure cloaked in shadow. It had appeared as if his question summoned it from nothingness. Pointing his gun at the figure the stallion stood ready. Spreading his legs out to get a more grounded position he prepared to bite down on the firing mechanism. He had not yet forgotten that he had an unknown sniper to contend with.
“Stop right there and identify yourself!” He ordered; mumbling clumsily through the gun griped between his teeth. “Step into the light where I can see you! Slowly!” The shadowy image inched out of the darkness as it was told. A light amber unicorn stallion with chocolate brown mane gradually made himself visible. As he stepped out into the dim yellowish glow of the street lamps the dark blue uniform the unicorn was wearing gradually became visible. The officer slowly lowered his gun before replacing it back into his breast holster and giving a sigh of relief that Daisy mirrored.
Daisy took in the sight of the mysterious pony from the shadows. He wasn’t much bigger than her but something about him told her that he was clearly older than he looked. His face was youthful but held an air of what she could only categorize as confidence. This poise was something that she had only come to see in the most veteran officers, but rolled off this unicorn naturally. His armored vest was neat, well maintained and relatively dirt free (unlike her own). But what was most eye catching about this unicorn was not the cleanliness of his uniform, the young appearance or even the large rifle that he held strapped to his back, but was instead what had to be the two most brilliant and brightest emerald green eyes that she had ever seen.
“Officer Bright-eyes, New Ponyville police department, cycle division.” He said introducing himself. “Now if you don’t mind could you step away from the body? She could still be alive.” With those words Daisy took a few generous steps back watching as the pony named Bright-eyes walked slowly over to the motionless body, rifle at the ready. Hovering the barrel point blank to the psychos head he gave it a few nudges. Daisy opened her mouth to speak in protest about potentially aggravating the vicious cyborg, but no words came. He gave it a few more taps before flipping the body over. Placing a hoof on her throat he stepped down hard. The psycho’s neck gave little support before crumpling under the pressure of his hoof. Sounds of cracking bone and snapping bits of metal could be heard as he delivered the finishing blow and dropped the full force of his hoof down a second time. The psycho made no noise as Bright-eyes added a hoof shaped concavity to her neck. He was pretty sure the bullet did what it needed to, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
The older officer stepped forward. “Officer Bright-eyes right? Thanks for your help. If you hadn’t come along when you did… Well I don’t know what we would have done.” Bright-eyes shot an angry glance over to the stallion. Trotting up confrontationally Bright-eyes stopped inches from his face and began to yell furiously.
“What in Tartarus do you think you were doing brining a rooky against somepony this dangerous? She could have gotten killed. Why didn’t you wait for backup?” Bright-eyes wasn’t in the habit of speaking out against senior officers but only did so in this case because he could still remember his first encounter with a cyber psycho. The same look of fear and helplessness on Daisy’s face reminded him of how he felt his first time. Nopony deserved to experience that; especially not rookies.
“We were the backup.” He shouted back. “When we got here nearly everypony was already dead. Except for Royal flush… And he… He didn’t last long.” The officer looked back at the brutalized remains of the pony that was stabbed when Bright-eyes had arrived.
Bright-eyes solemnly cast his sight to the ground. Not only did he speak out of turn (twice), he let his frustrations completely misread the situation. If they were willing to risk a rookie’s life than they were truly desperate; as Bright-eyes could plainly see from the carnage that surrounded them.
“Sorry sir.” He apologized. The senior officer nodded, silently accepting his apology. Looking over at the young mare Bright-eyes asked. “What’s your name rooky?”
“Daisy sir… Daisy Blossom.” She answered quietly. Her voice was wavery and weak. Getting a good look at her now Bright-eyes realized just how young she actually was. This poor mare (if you could call her that) had to be just out of her fillyhood. He would not have been surprised if she had gotten her cutie mark just last year; had she been a late bloomer. This revelation of her youth filled him with anger at the thought that Shield flash was willing to sacrifice her to that madpony. Suppressing his rage Bright-eyes tried to be as comforting as he could.
“How are you holding up?”
“Ok I guess.” She looked away from Bright-eyes trying not to meet his gaze. He didn’t need to guess at the reason why. The fact that somepony so young held such prejudice upset him greatly. He considered himself lucky. The only reason both of them were still speaking to him civilly at this point was because he rescued them from almost certain death. He ignored her umbrage and chose a different approach.
Cracking a smile he walked over to her and sat at her side commending her for her survival. He knew she wouldn’t care, but spoke with sincerity none the less. “It’s not every day a rooky like you could survive a psycho rampage. You did good kid.”
“I didn’t do anything.” She said countering his praise. The harshness of her tone stung him a little.
“You survived that’s what counts. In the end getting out alive is all that matters.” Bright-eyes rose up. Cocking an eyebrow he trotted back over to the cyborg’s corps. “Especially when it’s against somepony like this.”
Looking over the body the first thing he noticed was that her forehead lacked an exit wound for the metal slug that was no doubt still lodged in her skull. “That’s some powerful metal. Stopped the slug dead.” A small convex welt was visible just an inch low of her horn. “That shouldn’t have happened.” He remembered once with the same gun he accidentally punched strait through a cop wagon trying to “wound” an arsonist. Forensics got back to him later telling him that they found the bullet stuck in a concrete overpass support nearly a mile away. “No wonder they couldn’t hurt her.”
Lifting the dead psycho’s foreleg the protracted blade quickly receded back into her hoof with a metallic shink sound. Bright-eyes took his time to scan the corps more closely, taking in the minor details of her implants. Metal plates overlapped one another, exposed wires were visible and bits of dried blood were caked onto her fur and implants. It was too soon for the blood from her victims to dry this fast, so Bright-eyes could only deduce that the brownish accumulations came from the unicorn herself. Further investigation of this led Bright-eyes to confirm his theory. Noticing multiple sections where ink and stiches were still fresh under her fur and implants; neatly tucked out of sight. He could only postulate that she was still undergoing recovery from recent surgery.
The senior officer gave his insight as to what he thought was important regarding the psycho’s tech but Bright-eyes ignored most of it. “There’s something off about this.” He thought. “It’s all too shiny, too new and the qualities much better than usual, even if it is a bit patchy.”
The knife wasn’t too unusual. Most cybernetic limbs came with some kind of weaponry, but the rotating saw like blade that she had in the other leg was not standard in any model. Nor was it for that matter legal. Bright-eyes contemplated the possibility of a new black market cybertech dealer; as they would spring up from time to time causing all kinds of problems like this. But that still wouldn’t explain the inordinately high quality of the parts. Nor for that matter would it explain why her incisions still looked fresh, or the lack of coherent regularity between the parts. It was because of this inconsistency of armored coverage that he managed to punch through her metal implants at all. Without it he might have wasted his shot.
She would have had to have just gotten out form the procedure, as nopony would allow anypony to run loose in this state. Whoevers fault it was it didn’t really matter as loose she had gotten and mad she went. Bright-eyes wondered how long the ladder came about after the former, or if it had played a part in her liberation from whomever she had paid to load her up with all of this. If that was the case then her dealer would have most likely been killed along with everypony else that got in her way.
No. No run of the mill tech dealer would be so stupid to cram this much into one pony. Nor would one pony be able to afford the exorbitant sums of money it would take to just to acquire half of this stuff. Advanced reflex wiring, power tool like weapons and the strongest ablative plating he had ever seen; there was no way in all of Equestria she could get this from a street dealer.
Bright-eyes let his concentration fall back to the officers. He heard them talking amongst each other. Speculating over what he had already discounted. “Unnaturally high amount of tech, illegal weapons. Looks like we got another black market dealer.” The senior officer nodded agreeing with himself.
“I don’t think so sir.” Daisy said skeptically. “I mean call me crazy, but it just doesn’t seem like that’s where all this came from. And if you asked me I’d say she looks like this was done to her forcefully.” Bright-eyes hadn’t considered that.
“You’re wrong.” The officer chided. “She’s probably one of those anarchist ponies that got surgically addicted, and it caught up with her. Case closed.” The senior officer dismissed all other points Daisy brought up. He was far too flippant for Bright-eyes tastes. He was clearly the kind of pony that if something fell out of his knowledge and experience it was immediately wrong (the kind of pony that Bright-eyes could never like), but he did make a valid point even if Bright-eyes didn’t like his answer.
“What do you think officer Bright-eyes?” He asked.
“I think you’re wrong.” The grey pony’s brow furrowed taken aback by Bright-eyes allegation.
“What?” He barked with no attempts to hide his condemnation.
“The techs too new, too good but in places it seems piecemealed like it was never meant to be part of an integrated system.” Bright-eyes divulged his theory that she got the implants recently and remarked about the freshness of her cuts. What he didn’t tell them was his thoughts of possible outside involvement beyond a simple surgical addict and her tech dealer.
The dogs were the joker in the deck. He might have discounted this case entirely as just another incident, but the involvement of corporate security forces changed things. “Why were the dogs to get involved?” He thought. “Sure their better equipped than us, but why would they care? Most companies didn’t concern themselves about the wellbeing of everyday ponies. They just care about who pays them. Unless they have some stake in all this. But why?”
Bright-eyes followed this train of thought for as far as it would go, but quickly hit a wall. He needed more information. He couldn’t figure out why, without knowing who wanted this case. Then it hit him like a bolt of lightning. His thoughts uncovered something he had missed entirely until just now.
“The dogs aren’t here yet. Where are they? Were they held up?” Now this didn’t make any sense. His mind juggled a million questions at once all competing for answers for which he had none. “What was the importance of some run of the mill pony? Even if she had gone crazy there were at least a hundred others that were in the same condition as her, without the being dead part. Why was this case so important that Shield flash risked the lives of two of her officers? Was security even called? If they weren’t then why would somepony want her to roam free? What was the point of all this? Who was she and why did she warrant this amount of high quality tech?” Bright-eyes head was spinning.
A distant sound from one of the roof tops tore Bright-eyes attention away from his thoughts. He caught sight of a figure flying upwards towards the sky. It looked like a large Pegasus, but was too far away to make out any details (even for his eyes). He thought he could make out the vague outline of an armored barding much like his own. He looked over to the other two officers to ask if they had seen what he did, but they didn’t seem to notice the flying object. Their attention was fixated on the growing sounds of sirens in the distance. Bright-eyes looked down the street towards the commotion. It was the New Ponyville police with what had to be nearly half the cities on duty officers coming to deliver unnecessary back up. “The cavalry has arrived.” The senior officer said with something like mocking triumph. Bright-eyes shook his head disinterested in the commotion and looked back to the roof tops. The figure was gone. He had only looked away for a second or two but in that small time the flying figure had disappeared completely vanishing into the night.
In no time at all a cadre of police motorcycles, auto wagons and medical motor carts raced down the street. It took only a few moments for them to unload and fill the area. A few officers shuffled into the apartments to clean up the scene and question witnesses while an emergency team tended to the traumatized Daisy and her stoic partner. Once the two officers were debriefed they were sent to receive proper treatment for both their physical and mental wounds within the hour. Bright-eyes didn’t help with quarantining the streets, or assisting the new coming officers by taking eyewitness reports or even giving his own. He had been too busy dodging one of the chief’s messengers.
He was spotted. He knew that much as soon as he saw the earth pony officer make a b-line right for him. It took him more time than he thought it would to disassemble his rifle and place it back into its case. By the time he was finished putting it away and strapping it back in she was already on his tail.
“Officer Bright-eyes.” The earth pony mare in full uniform and helmet called out, her slow trot turning into a full gallop as she saw him preparing to leave. Bright-eyes tried to fane not hearing her while attempting to straddle his bike and take off, but she intercepted him blocking his path and raising a hoof out in front of her in a halt gesture. He contemplated just driving past her but decided against it, electing to pull up next to her instead of running her down.
The officer kept her helmet on. Her voice was only slightly muffled behind it. The police issued helmet resembled a vague outline of a pony’s face with its brow arched in a menacing scowl to give it a more intimidating appearance. Her visage looked as angry as she sounded. “You’re asked to return to the department. The chief wants to have a word with you.” She spoke loudly not caring if anypony overheard her.
“Now when you say asked, do you mean asked… or told?” Bright-eyes queried.
“In your case. Told!”
“Oh come on this isn’t fair.” Bright-eyes had been arguing for the past ten minutes trying to state his case, but the messenger wasn’t having any of it.
“I don’t care if you think it’s fair or not. You… H.Q… Now!”
“Ponies would have died here if I didn’t do something.”
“To which I’m sure they are eternally grateful for, and is something you can tell the chief once you get back.” She said sarcastically while pointing behind him.
“Just ask the pony you had stationed on the roofs I’m sure they’ll tell you that I didn’t have any time to sit and wait for reinforcements to show up. Which by the way never did.” Even behind the opaque visor of her helmet he could see her eyes narrow.
“We have no officers on the roofs.”
His tone shifted from that of agitation to one of disbelief. “What are you talking about I saw one of them just before you got here.”
“It wasn’t one of ours.” She said shaking her head. “The only ones that were here were the three of you.” His ears perked and a series of thoughts played out in his mind. Could she have been lying, but then if they were cops why didn’t they do anything to help. A simple swoop and snatch and the others would have been saved. It could be the security forces? But why send only one pony. If they wanted this case so adamantly why did they not send the full force of Celestia down on her head? Again this night wasn’t making any damn sense.
After several more minutes of pointless bickering Bright-eyes finally conceded the argument. The officer radioed back to H.Q. informing the chief that her message was delivered, killing all Bright-eyes hopes of lying that he ever received her message. Not that he thought that line would work but hopes don’t have to be reasonable. She told Bright-eyes to respond back himself, but he informed her of the fact he couldn’t make or receive calls due to Keystrokes fabricated blackout. Though he didn’t tell her as to the why he was receiving only static.
Keystroke was the secret he kept from everypony. Hackers of her expertise were hard enough to come by. The few he knew that the police were publicly aware of were often very closely monitored. Discounting the fact that she wasn’t sanctioned by his department (or anyone for that matter) insuring her freedom and safety was his top priority. He couldn’t risk losing a valuable asset or beloved friend like her to his superiors. He protected her from them almost as much as she protected him from his own ignorance. Most of her deeds weren’t hostile to any one pony particularly, but she still committed acts that some ponies might consider lawfully impermissible. Such acts as interfering with police radios.
Once the messenger was out of range to see, Bright-eyes pressed a number of buttons on the built in console of his bike, covertly sending a signal to Keystrokes that told her to end the snow storm over his ear piece. In seconds the channel was as clear as a bell, and the tinny voice of the dispatcher mare could be heard sending orders and reciting police codes once again. He gave a silent thanks to whatever power that guided his luck that it didn’t bring him back to a still ranting Shield flash.
Switching over to a different channel (figuring he wasn’t going to need updates of the robbery in progress at Quick steps kicks: horse shoe outlet) he Straddled his bike. Bright-eyes laid long ways belly flat against the bikes padded seat, his forelegs stretched out in front of him comfortably sliding his hooves into their cuffs with his back legs positioned beneath him. He started up the engine and hoped that at least the ride was going to be peaceful.
Looking over his shoulder one last time before departing Bright-eyes noticed something odd, just one more thing to pile on top of the numerous odd happenings tonight. The M.E’s who were in charge of the psycho pony’s remains seemed to be standing around taking notes, but not on the condition of the body. They appeared to be surveying the scene and jotting down quite prolifically a comprehensive digest of the carnage that surrounded them. They would spare only a passing glance at the corps every once and awhile, nodding periodically. Some of them even seemed to be comparing notes like they were corroborating some information that Bright-eyes was not privy to.
The head examiner an orange earth pony with peach colored mane greying at the temples locked stares with Bright-eyes. His gaze felt like ice, chilling him to the bone. The examiner called over some of his assistances that were bagging up one of the news ponies. He gestured towards the cyborg’s body and gave orders that Bright-eyes couldn’t hear over the sounds of the other vehicles. Once more the lead M.E looked over at Bright-eyes this time muttering something covertly into the com that was attached to his stark white uniform. The whole silent exchange between them made Bright-eyes feel uncomfortable. He wrenched his eyes away and rode off down the street from where he had entered Trotting way from; all the while still feeling those piercing eyes at his back.
