Hey Chummer, what can I get ya?
A grizzled, scarred griffon stood behind the bar of the rundown liquor hole. His left talon had been replaced with a steel prosthetic, and his face was covered in a multitude of piercings, both cosmetic and cybernetic. That was where he had earned his nickname, Studs. None of his patrons ever knew his name, bar one. The one who had saved him so many years ago, and had given him enough nubits to buy this drekhole.
Grudge, the young dragon bouncer, sat in the corner of the room, nursing a neat whiskey. Most bouncers weren’t allowed to drink on the job, but Studs knew the dragon could burn the booze out of his system in a second if he was needed.
Half the time the dragon would just need to stand up, and whoever was causing problems would swiftly shut it.
Not many patrons were around at this hour, only a few night-owls hung around this early in the A.M. A few more ponies would wander through the doors when the night-shifters finished, but for now, the bar was particularly quiet.
Studs looked up from the glass he had been cleaning as the door opened. Many years ago, he’d gotten chipped in an old chopshop in lower Manehattan, but he’d long since disabled his door alert. Any bartender worth his weight in feathers knew when that door opened.
And any bartender knew when it was one of his regulars before the door even swung open.
“Well, look who just crawled outta the gutter,” Studs called out in a thick Cabbese accent, as a cloaked unicorn walked down the steps. “Ain’t seen ya in a few; thought you might’a finally bought it.”
“Studs,” the unicorn said as she nodded at the griffon.
“Four years an’ that’s all ya got ta say to yer old buddy Studs?”
“Old buddy?” The unicorn smirked as she took a stool in front of the bar. “You’re more likely annoyed I left with my tab unpaid.”
Studs scratched his beak with a claw. “Well, that might ‘ave somethin’ ta do with it, sure.”
The unicorn let out a chuckled as she dropped a hooffull of nubits on the counter. “I’m sure this’ll settle any outstanding debt.”
Studs let out a sigh, pushing the notes back to the unicorn. “Ya know I ain’t ever gonna hold you to a debt— I owe you far more than what was outstanding on your tab.” He drummed his metallic talon on the counter in point.
Studs turned towards the liquor display, standing on his back paws and reaching for a bottle. “Top shelf? Haven’t see ya in a while, be nice ta have a reason ta get out the good stuff again.”
Studs placed two tumblers in front of the unicorn, and poured a neat shot in each. The unicorn levitated one of the tumblers, while Studs grabbed the other in his good claw.
“Don’t see any of the old crew around,” the unicorn said as she levitated the tumbler to her lips.
“Four years is a long time, Sparks,” Studs replied before taking a swig of his own. “Too many of us got geeked… and those who didn’t…”
Sparks looked around the bar, remembering better times. She had been pretty tight with her crew back in those days, before everything ran south.
“You seen Data Jack around?” Sparks asked the bartender.
Studs shook his head, a grim expression crossing his face. “Data Jack don’t come here anymore. Traded in the real world, he’s nothin’ but a dreamqueen these days.”
Sparks sighed. Data Jack was one of the best deckers she’d ever seen. Between his skills with the keyboard, and his changeling shapeshifting, she’d seen him break into the securest of facilities single-hoofedly. Red, their minotaur charger… Card Shark, their conmare and sweet talker. Rowdy, their inappropriately named zebra shaman. Telos, the street mage. Studs, their bartender and fixer.
And Sparks herself, the one who brought them all together.
The six of them, they’d sat in this very bar, planning for the day they’d rise would lead the world to rise up against their oppressor. Nowdays… the bar was nothing but empty chairs and empty tables to her. Once, they had dreamed of a world reborn.
Everyone else had either been geeked, or given up the fight, like Studs and Data Jack. It was the way of the world.
“New meat?” Sparks flicked her head towards the dragon.
“Grudge?” Studs asked.
Sparks nodded.
“Yeah, after Heath got geeked…” Studs looked towards the door, a glazed over look in his eyes. He rapidly shook his head as his feathers bristled. “Now days, if anyone causes problems, I let Grudge here break a few bones.
“The worst offenders… well, there’s that old chopshop on third street. They’ll take anyone—as long as they’re SINless—even if they’re a little on the crispy side.”
Sparks scrunched her nose in disgust.
“Hey, look, I don’t like it either… but sometimes you gotta do what ya gotta do.”
Sparks sat in silence, drinking with Studs until the bottle ran low. Studs looked up as the door opened.
“Sorry, Sparks… suits comin’ in fer happy hour.”
Sparks turned around, watching as five ponies and a minotaur stepped into the dark bar. All held the telltale signs of corporate slaves. Neat hair, neat suits, neat everything. The two unicorns had that look about them— pure dandelion eaters. They looked down their noses at the grungy establishment. One of the unicorns had two grafted cybernetic wings on her back, as had been the fashion several decades ago. Of the two earth ponies who stepped in, one was obviously a decker, from the telltale datajack and the cyberdeck he was sporting. The other, if Sparks could guess (and she usually could) was a rigger. The pegasus, and the minotaur both screamed razormares, from the heavy artillery they were packing.
“Ugh, I don’t know vhy jou would bring me to this kind of eztablishment,” the female unicorn sneered. “I vill have to shower for at least a day to vash out this filth.”
“Hey,” the minotaur protested. “I grew up in dives like this… no better place to get a good drink.” She looked down at the unicorn (one of the few species that could) and a grin crossed her face. “‘Sides, I reckon you could do with getting a little dirty, Cold Cuts.”
“I told you,” the unicorn replied, gritting her teeth, “not to call me that!”
“Oh, chill it, Colditz,” the pegasus said. She alighted next to the bar, and placed a credchip on the counter. “Five hard ciders, and open a tab for us. Keep the drinks coming, we’ve had a long day.”
“Null sheen,” Studs replied, swiping the chip before return it to the pegasus.
Sparks spied the logo stitched into the pegasus’ suit: Armor Macrotechnologies. She turned back to her drink, ready to ignore the pony next to her.
“Bit warm for that cloak, eh chummer?”
Sparks turned her head towards the pegasus who had addressed her. Her antique eye implant drew the pegasus’ attention to the scarring across the left side of her face, normally hidden below her hood.
“Sweet Celestia!” the pegasus yelped. “You look like you’ve had a worse day than us.” She flicked her head, calling Studs back over. “Yo, keep, give her another shot of whatever she’s drinkin’!”
“Don’t bother.” Sparks turned back to her own drink.
“Celestia, mare, was just trying to be nice.” She turned on her hooves and cantered back to her table. “Later, drekhead!”
Studs watched Sparks for any sign, but she continued quietly nursing her drink. Pouring five hard ciders, Studs left her at the bar, carrying over the five drinks to his newest patrons.
“Yo,” the minotaur called out as Studs made his way back to the bar. “Put the game on, would ya?”
Studs obliged, flicking the trid on with a remote.
“—and with five minutes left to quartertime, Shadows lead by five to the Bolts.”
“Aww, frag!” the decker shouted. “Come on, Bolts!”
“I’ll be ready to collect your nubits by the end of the game,” the minotaur said, a smirk crossing her face.
“What ever, troggy!”
Sparks turned her attention away from the rowdy suits… most of the other patrons in the bar did the same. It had always been like this, every now and then Studs’ bar would be invaded by some preppy suits looking to slum it for a night. This was nothing but a story they could regale to their co-workers.
Sparks lit her horn, calling her dragonling sprite from its resonance slumber.
“What can I do for you, boss?” the dragonlings words hummed through her head.
“Decker across the room, check if his cyberdeck is jacked in,” Sparks silently commanded.
“Right away!” the sprite replied, it’s ‘voice’ like a buzz at the back of her mind. “Active connection, one Decker Cane, Armor Macrotechnologies. Currently connected to twelve betting sites, taking highest odds on all bets. Low bank balance… indentured servant to Armor—”
“I don’t care about the decker,” Sparks replied, cutting the sprite off. “Check his work history, is there anything we can use?”
The buzzing stopped for a moment; Sparks resumed her drinking.
“Small data fragments remain on the cyberdeck, all history cleared.”
“Looks like they learned from our last run.”
“I know that look,” Studs whispered, startling Sparks. “No causing trouble in my bar, got it?”
“Nothing of worth anyway,” Sparks replied.
Studs sighed. “Sparks, when are ya gonna give up? The resistance died. It’s over, they won.”
Sparks sneered. “It’ll live until I take my last breath.”
“That’s what I’m worried about, Sparks.” Studs placed his good talon over one of Sparks’ forehooves. “You got enough creds, you could leave this dump. Get a nice place on the Luna Colonies. Forget us dreks down here. You’ve fought long enough… lost enough.”
“I won’t give up and hide like those cowards and sycophants,” Sparks scoffed. “No, I am not running away from the problems of this world… I’ll keep fighting no matter what it takes.”
“Fine! You hauled my plot outta the fire once, so I thought I owed ya.” Studs breathed a sharp sigh out of his beak. “But if you’re intent on this, I won’t stop ya.”
“Yeah!” the minotaur screamed in joy at the end of the first quarter. “Frag it, Cane!”
“I was sure Shortfire would get a goal!” The decker groaned. “When has he ever missed?”
“When you bet on him,” the pegasus replied.
“We now bring you a word from our sponsor.”
Celestia’s image filled the trid. “Hello, my little ponies. For the last nine hundred years, SunCorp has brought to you the finest in solar services. SunCorp ensures daily that—”
“Shut that drek off,” Sparks hissed in her head. Her dragonling sprite darted through the matrix pathways towards the trid, narrowly dodging the white ice and finally finding its way inside. A simple script and the trid’s stream was replaced with a single, two dimensional image.
A starburst surrounded by five smaller stars.
“What the frag?” the minotaur yelled.
“Oh, do not tell me zees runners are ztill fighting!” The unicorn with the heavy accent sneered. “Zuch a dizgrace to ponykind!”
“I got this,” the decker said, pulling his cyberdeck in front of him and jacking in. “Pfft, it’s so amateurish, it’s embarrassing.”
“—all incomes received go towards select philanthropic services, reaching those in need.” Celestia’s voice faded out, being replaced by a voice-over pony extolling the virtues of SunCorp.
Sparks grit her teeth.
“They’re not worth it,” Studs hissed in a harsh whisper.
Sparks lit her horn, and once again the trid stream vanished, replaced again by the six-starburst insignia.
“Zis is disgrazeful!” the unicorn yelled, standing. “Unmatriotic! Zelestia haz graced us wiz her glorious zun for over two thousand years, and zis iz how you repay her? Ze unicorns, we never forgot!”
Sparks shifted her barstool back, ignoring the glare Studs was giving her.
“That callous drek is owed nothing!” Sparks shouted, facing the group. “She gets kicked out of power, and now extorts hard-earned nubits from every living creature on the face of Equestria?”
“Vhat did you say?” the heavily accented unicorn stomped across the bar. She spied the horn poking out from underneath Sparks’ hood. “Vhat are you, a self-hating unicorn? Vhere is your loyalty?”
“That drek of a mare deserves no loyalty, least of all from m—” Sparks was cut off when the unicorns hoof slapped across her face; her hood falling from her head.
“Cane, get zhat drek off ze trid, unt make sure zis schlampe does not change it again!”
Sparks furrowed her brow as she felt the decker attacking her work again. Lighting her horn, she made sure he wouldn’t bother her again.
A scream pierced the tense silence. The heavily accented unicorn turned back to see what was happening, and found her friends crowding around her decker friend. He was convulsing and thrashing on the floor, screaming as he writhed. The minotaur grabbed his datajack line and yanked it from the deck, but Sparks knew it was too late.
The pegasus held her hoof to his neck, feeling for a pulse. “He’s… he’s been ICed.”
“Vhat?”
“That fragging bitch… she… she fragging geeked him!” The glint of steel flashed from the pegasus’ wings as microblades slipped out of her pollexes on both wings. “I’ll fragging kill you!”
Grudge stood from his seat, ready to intervene.
“Grudge!” Studs yelled at the bouncer. “Stay the frag down and C-YA.”
The other patrons of the bar took this cry as their signal to leave, bolting out the door and leaving only Sparks and her five antagonizers.
‘Blades’ darted forward, her unsheathed knives leveled at Sparks’ throat. Sparks gave the slightest twitch and a glow of the horn, and ‘Blades’ exploded in a spray of blood and viscera. She removed her now-saturated cloak, letting it drop the the floor.
A patchwork of scars covered her body. While Studs had seen it before, it was always a terrifying sight to behold. Her body bore the tale of somepony who had fought more battles than Studs’d had hot meals. Her mane had been cropped short close to her neck, as if it had been cut hastily with blade.
“Du Schlampe!” the unicorn screamed, as she lit her horn and surrounded herself with a shield. “Du verdammter umgebracht!” Her remaining friends ran up behind her.
As the unicorn flared her cybernetic wings, Sparks laughed at the pitiful display. The other unicorn ignited his horn, but screamed in agony as it exploded before he could get his spell off.
The minotaur pulled a sawed-off griffon style shotgun from its sling on her hip, and leveled it towards Sparks. Igniting her horn, Sparks levitated the minotaur from the ground, swinging the large heifer towards the wall repeatedly. At the same time, she battered ‘Loudmouth’s’ shield, wearing the mare down.
The rigger finally engaged his drone. Sparks heard the gatling gun warm up. Before it could even fire off a single burst, the barrel swiveled around towards the earth pony, and engaged.
Sparks smiled. Her sprite couldn’t ICe for drek, but he sure was good at wetwork. Sparks dropped the bloodied minotaur, certain she had breathed her last.
‘Loudmouth’ cowered on the floor in front of Sparks. “Heiligen Celestia, rette mich!”
“Celestia kümmert sich nicht für Sie.” Sparks hissed, as she levitated the cowering mare before her.
“Heiligen Celestia, rette mich, Heiligen Celestia, rette mich, Heiligen Celestia, rette mich!” the mare sobbed.
A bright light filled the bar as Sparks’ eyes burned white with untold power. Her previously cropped mane grew in length, and sparkled with thaumic energy. Studs dove behind the bar counter, and Grudge wisely tipped over the table he’d been sitting at and barricaded himself behind it.
A fierce snarl braced Sparks’ muzzle. “Wo ist deine Göttin jetzt?”
“Rette mich! Rette mich! Rette mi—”
The light in the bar died down.
Sparks stood there, unscathed. The only thing left of the loudmouth mare was the burnt end of her horn.
“Get… get out.”
Sparks turned around. Studs stood there, a shotgun in talon, aimed towards her.
“I-I said… get out!” Studs’ talons shook as he aimed the gun towards the mare. “All debts are paid. I don’t owe you nothin’ anymore.”
“Studs?” Sparks asked.
“They had SINs… their credchip is linked here… you can’t hide this, Sparks,” he said, his voice quavering. “So I’ll give you a head start before I call in the heat.”
“Studs…”
“No!” he growled. “O-out. Don’t… don’t come back.”
Sparks looked towards her former friend, and the cowering dragon behind the overturned table.
Without a word, Sparks opened the door and left the bar.
Twilight Sparkle stopped in the cold alleyway. She rolled her shoulderblades, trying to release the tension in her back. The scar tissue where her wings used to be always ached when she used her alicorn power.
She sighed, looking up at the billboard above her. Celestia’s serene, smiling—lying—face looked down at her.
“What did you tell me? ‘You live long enough to watch your friends die… or betray you!’” Twilight scoffed. “I hope I am not half a cynical as I am when I am your age, you drek.”
She’d find another group.
Another set of friends.
One day, she’d topple the tyrant from her golden throne.
Until then… she had time.
The megacorps would continue to oppress, continue to churn out angry citizens wanting more.
All Twilight had to do… was wait.
