Friendship and Space Magic. What could go wrong?

by Redstargazer

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Princess Celestia, Crossover, Alternate Universe, Main 6, Princess Luna, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Other, Adventure
Length: 44820

Species-Reaper. Ocupation-retired civilization killer. Hobbies-choreography, calligraphy, and science. Object-someone to talk to who HAS ENOUGH BRAIN CELLS TO ANSWER BACK!!

Inquisitor was the last surviving Reaper to have avoided the new solution. What does he do when his very existence becomes obsolete? Easy. Upgrade. In this case, ripping the mind of some poor schmuck, Jeff, and putting him in charge. And now the Great Reaper Jeff enters the land of Ponies and Friendship to study organics. What could possibly go wrong?

Little Idea that popped into my head while I was writing other stories and put it to print. Whether it goes on or gets passed to someone else willing will depend on the comments and reactions I get.

Disclaimer: I do not own, take credit for, or claim profit related to Mass Effect, MLP: Friendship is Magic or any likewise named franchise in this story. It is fanfiction purely made for nonprofit entertainment.

Published 2014-12-18 23:30:10 UTC
Last updated 2018-08-30 15:04:34 UTC

Ch 1: Solitude is...nice?

Within the vast whole of creation, or the multiverse as some called it, there were several slivers of existence where magic ruled. In one of these slivers existed a world called Equus. Its inhabitants, aside from a few exceptions, were largely content with peaceful life and the goal of following the creed of harmony under the rule of the two sisters. Unknown to them, however, there existed a terrifying form of life housed within a patch of Darkspace opposite of their side of their galaxy.

Within the heart of Darkspace floated a monstrous, metallic form stretching to an astonishing two kilometers. It seemed an abhorrent mix of machine and organic life that took the form of a giant insect and crawled from the deepest depths of the worst nightmare conceived by sentient life. Orbiting around it were lesser forms: three that were half its size and six more that measured around two hundred meters. If the vacuum of Darkspace were capable of carrying sound, or better yet had a communicator able to decipher the proper signals, one would hear a booming, terrifying voice that once heralded the doom of whole galaxies. A voice that currently monologued while accompanied by stately music.

“Space. The last frontier. These are the logs of Jeff, the last surviving Reaper. My mission? To explore and discover strange, new life. To boldly fight the simple truth that space…IS FIRGGIN BORING AS CRAP!!!”

Actually, scratch that. Space was far more boring in comparison. At least with crap, you could occupy your free time counting and categorizing the individual molecules whilst conversing with the flies. Assuming, of course, one remembered to maintain a small amount of atmosphere to support those flies.

Now now Jeff, don’t forget your manners, I admonished myself silently, you should always start at the beginning so as not to lose your audience; even if the only one listening is yourself.

Myself concurred. Now…er…where was the beginning?

THE BATTLE STUPID!!

Ah! Yes, yes of course. The Battle. Ahem.

The latest cycle started in a rather unexpected way. Instead of flooding through the relay to slaughter the spacefarers in one fell swoop, the Vanguard had been found out and slain. Not that the rest of the fleet was surprised. Many predicted that Vanguard, either due to so much time in exile or that last hit to the processors by a mass driver, was due for a screw up.

Harbinger hadn’t been worried, of course. Being the first and most intelligent of the supreme Reaper Command, it had a failsafe in place for such a possibility. And then the failsafe failed. For the first time in Reaper history, the fleet had to make a painstaking journey from Darkspace via the scenic route. Harbs would likely have had a hard time living that fiasco down if any of us had bothered installing a sense of humor.

Upon arrival, after a few more failsafe failures *robo cough*, the harvest continued with its standard protocol: blowing crap up, laser blasting orphans, having husks kick some puppies, the whole Armageddon shtick. As the harvest continued, however, something happened that, metaphorically speaking, stunned the entire fleet. A Reaper was killed in battle.

And then there was another. And another. Whether through a procession of sheer flukes or some newly discovered knowledge, the organics had come together and began resisting in a manner unheard of in past cycles. It was estimated that they were still destined to the harvest, but the sudden change in pattern sent a feeling of unease along the fleet. Well, as much unease as soulless, genocidal machines could feel. Harbinger definitely showed signs of strain as its pushes toward the end of the cycle became more frenzied.

It was in the battle of Earth that the cyber shit really hit the fan.

At the climax of the battle, a massive energy surge shot from the Citadel and followed the path set by the Mass Relays. Inquisitor, essentially the head researcher among the Reaper Capitals, sensed the surge and threw up a number of experimental defenses it had been working on since news of the first Reaper death. Whether it was caused by a reaction between the surge and the new defenses or some unknown variable, Inquisitor found itself tearing through dimensional boundaries and flung into its current universe. It was ill prepared for the new ambient energy, now known as magic, and found itself shorted out temporarily until its systems managed to identify and adapt for this new energy. Between Inquisitor’s recovery and time to rediscover the dimensional boundaries, it took about four hundred years to find its way back. What it found shook it to its very core.

The Reapers were gone.

Not just gone, of course. Inquisitor fully expected to find the battle finished and have to make a long sojourn back to Darkspace. What it didn’t expect was to find the spacefarers from the cycle still around. Based on what little intel Inquisitor could gather, the organics found a way to render the Reaper Harvest solution void. The organic leader came and… Honestly, for some reason, the exact how of the matter was still fuzzy. Maybe a lot of crap blew up? Something about reprogramming maybe? There were even some hints at something hokey involving cyber genetics.

Eh, screw it. Doesn’t really matter. The point is Reapers, as they were known, were deep-sixed and Inquisitor was put out of a job. And if there is anything a machine can truly fear than deactivation, it is losing its job: its purpose.

The only means of joining the new solution, the Citadel and the Mass Relays, were shot to heck which meant it was stuck as the last member of an obsolete model. Seeing no point in remaining, Inquisitor slunk back to its last place of exile to ponder a new solution for itself. It couldn’t terminate itself because of self-preservation programing so that idea was out. So what else was there for an outdated tool?

After a few decades of thought, Inquisitor finally came up with an idea. Since the organics were obviously on to something the Reapers couldn’t catch, perhaps a little observation and change in methods were in order? When in Rome and all that.

Of course, it couldn’t go back to its old universe and ask someone there. Whatever had happened, it was unlikely an old-school Reaper would find a warm reception. Instead, Inquisitor would carry out its observations in this universe where there were no Reapers and where the organics were still in early development. Watching them evolve for a few hundred millennia should make for thorough study.

Step one: pepper this universe with probes to find life sustaining worlds and watch for change. Step two: restructure programing and thought processes. That last one would be a bit tricky.

The experiment would be pointless if observed by a Reaper that only knew ‘kill everything, toss it in a blender, and hit frappe’ setting. A few finer nuances in the study would likely have been lost on such a mindset. The problem lay in the fact that a machine couldn’t just change its mind overnight like the meatbags. It needed to be directly overridden. Self-reprogramming wouldn’t work as the inherent risks would kick in the self-preservation protocols and shut down the operation. The introduction of a new OS was called for.
To this purpose, it sent additional probes into other universes, excluding the one it came from, to seek out an appropriate mind. Not just any sentient would do though. It had to be human. As clouded as its memories were, Inquisitor did remember that is was a human that found the new solution.

The concept was simple. First, it would pick a random human and pull it into this universe. That was simple enough, despite the yelling and squeaking from it when it was finally delivered. Then, using a combination of this universe’s magic and program code found in the home-verse, Inquisitor would strip the mind from the organic and install it in the new core processor, with a few augments to adjust for size difference in hardware. The transference must have been fairly painful if its screams were anything to go by. But hey, it was getting immortality and power in the deal so there probably would not be too many hard feelings. Organics were all about the immortality and power, right? Finally, the process would be complete when Inquisitor initiated a sleep mode and rebooted with the new core designated as the priority system. The results upon reactivation were…interesting.

Once the systems were restored, Inquisitor was replaced and I, The Dreadnought Reaper Jeff, awoke to see the universe in new light. And proceeded to scream like a little girl. Or, you know, as much as a giant death machine could sound like one at any rate.
It took a few centuries of freaking out, funny how time flies during an immortal’s nervous breakdown, before I finally thought to check through the systems logs. What I found did not make me happy. While I was free to do whatever I wanted with my new powers and resourced for the most part, Inq’s ‘mission’ would take priority on my actions. That meant I would have to wait in Darkspace for new life to evolve. All by myself.

Fast-forward thirty thousand years, give or take a few centuries, to today.

Within the central chamber of…well…me…a mass of husks with the occasional brute were shuffling along in an odd dance number. Watching the proceedings was a small, holosphere that currently acted as an avatar for me to directly interact with the group of lumbering gits.

“Annnnd welcome! To another exciting season of Jeffian Idol! I’m your host and overlord, Jeff, here to proudly announce our latest project: auditions to see which meatbags are chosen for the remake of Thriller! MS, what are your thoughts?” I asked while bouncing in excitement as I looked over at the marauder host to my left.

A noncommittal grunt came in reply.

“Wow, MS that’s…that’s kind of harsh actually. I mean, I know your feelings on sequels but, wow.” I turned to the banshee standing to my right, “Got any counterarguments for us, June?”

A blood curdling screech resounded through the hallways of me.

“Ah, yes. Excellent point and just the sort of optimism I have come to expect from you, June,” I said graciously before turning to share the verdict with my rapt audience. “In the fine words of my associate judge, every sequel has potential to unlock previously overlooked expression and bring it to a new level of art form. Who knows? Perhaps three hundred and seventy seven will be Thriller’s lucky number. Okay, boys. From the top. And a one and a two…”

*Ping*

“The fock was that?”

All sounds stopped as processing power was redirected to listening for the new noise. It sounded off again. “That’s different,” my voice intoned flatly as I fought against the rising hope in my enormous nonexistent heart, “different is good.”

I sent a spike through the data banks to identify the new noise. I know it meant something but…I just couldn’t place what it was. An answer came to me in the form of a report in point zero zero three seconds.

Probe three forty two reporting from stationed sector. New sentient life identified. Herbivorous. Hoofed quadruped. Multiple phenotypes detected. Speech recognized, translated, and stored. Recognized as compatible with energy theta.

“Huh. Talking, magical ponies. Doesn’t that just beat all?”

Awaiting command. Initiate contact? y/n

“Hmmm. Let’s see,” I turned the possibility over in my processors, “how about FUCK THE HELL YEAH!”

I turned my holosphere toward the marauder judge, “MS! Take one of the troop transports and head there to establish a communication link yesterday! Oh, oh!” I stopped as a thought came to me, “and see about downloading some tunes to play for them first. You know, to soften the blow of seeing a giant behemoth landing on their front porch. And none of that Close Encounters of the Third Kind crap. No, we need style. We need the good stuff. We need to get them Hooked on a Feeling!!” I cackled a few minutes in appreciation of my little joke before turning back to MS, “but seriously, dude. Get down there ASAP. I need to meet someone that DOESN’T NEED REMINDING ON HOW TO BREATHE!”

The marauder saluted before turning to dash for one of my landing ports.

With that dealt with, I turned to address the rest of my adoring, if slightly drooly, subjects. “Alright everyone, listen up! I have bad news and great news. Bad news is, we have just dropped Thriller remake three seventy seven,” a collective, monotone moan came from the masses, “I know, I know. Everyone was looking forward to it, but that is where the great news comes in. WE ARE MEETING REAL PEOPLE!” another groan answered in the exact same tone.

Naturally, with our longstanding relationship, I had the context needed to recognize the different inflections in the analogous sounding moans. “Yes, yes we are all excited by the prospect. That is why I have to drop the Thriller project. We need the best of the best to greet these new friends. Only my masterpiece will do. Prepare yourselves for…SPONGEBOB THE SPACE OPERA!!”

After being stuck in the body of a killer robot the size of a small asteroid for longer than I could remember, I honestly couldn’t predict how my new organic buddies were going to react. All I knew was that things would be different. And different. Is. Good.

Author's Note

Yeah. Had this idea bouncing around in my head while I was working on other stories and decided to put it to type and see what reaction I get. Whether this one gets worked with others, continues on its own, or passed to a willing writer will likely be decided by what comments, PMs, and suggestions this thing gets, so let those comments fly:pinkiecrazy:!

As in all my work, warnings of missed typos appreciated.

Ch 2: Dance dance diplomacy prt 1

Rarity was currently stressing over her latest Canterlot order. Some Duke had commissioned her to make enough costumes to equip every member of his staff for a ball being held at his mansion. The challenge wasn’t posed by the time limit and numbers so much as the nature of the commission. He wanted them to be elegant enough to catch the eyes of his guest without actually showing them up. He also seemed to have a preference of matching their designs favored by the Prench nobles.

Now while Rarity simply adored the Prench fashions, she couldn’t help but be a little unsettled by the concept of this little project. Every servant was to carry out their duties silently while dressed in these elegant uniforms and wearing simple ball masks. Who would want a party where nameless, masked strangers slipped in and out of the shadows to silently lurk among the guests? The very idea sent shivers through her. Still, it was paying work and, from what the rumors suggested, the Duke was known to be a tad eccentric anyway.

More importantly, she was making the finishing touches on the last costume and would soon be free to go back to her own projects. Perhaps after a cup of her favorite herbal tea? Yes, nothing seem to help sooth overworked nerves than a nice cup while sitting by the fire peacefully-

“RESISTANCE IS POINTLESS!!!”

Rarity sighed at the squeaky declaration and following thumping noises coming from upstairs. “Looks like work and relaxation will have to wait until I see to the Terrible Trio,” she mumbled as she headed up stairs.

Rarity didn’t bother knocking as she slipped into the room with well-rehearsed reprimand in progress. “Sweetie, darling, I know you and your friends love your games but I must insist that…I…” she looked around at the latest CMC brand of chaos.

Materials and equipment were scattered across the floor. Applebloom and Scootaloo were braced behind a toppled couch wearing various cooking ware as odd makeshift armaments. Her own sister stood in the center wearing what seemed like a combination black cloth and surgical tubing wrapped into an impromptu body suit. Her face was layered in foundation to make it even paler than normal and a monocle covered her left eye.

“Rarity! We are not playing games,” Sweetie squeaked indignantly, “we’re making plans to prepare for potential alien threats. Together we are-” Sweetie took in a deep breath.
Seeing the signs, Rarity used her magic to pull out the earplugs she recently started storing in her mane for these sleep overs as Applebloom and Scootaloo joined in for one of their typical rally calls. “THE CUTIEMARK CRUSADER ALIEN INVASION PREVENTION SQUAD, YAY!!!”

Rarity took out her earplugs and pulled out a comb in their place to quickly fix her windblown mane before addressing the crusaders, “Yes, that’s very nice but, since there has been no known situations before or any indication of the possibility of aliens, what are you basing these plans on?”

“We’re basin’ em on established theories, o’ course,” Applebloom smugly as before pulling some booklets from her saddlebags and tossing them over.

The exasperated designer caught them in her magic and looked over the titles doubtfully. “Star Trot? Starllion Wars? Invasion of the Pony Snatchers!? Girls, this isn’t research. These are pure works of fiction! There isn’t a grain of truth in them!”

“Exactly! Fiction gives us a starting point with rules and guidelines to be ready for the truth. After all, truth is stranger than fiction because fiction is obligated to stick to possibilities where truth isn’t.” Everypony stared Scootaloo in surprise at the unusually philosophical remark. After a few moments under the scrutiny, she finally blushed in embarrassment and stared at the ground, pawing at it as she admitted, “Uh, yeah. Pops has been on my case about my grades and has me reading ‘classical literature’” she made a disgusted face and quotation hooves at the last term.

“Well, as nice as it is to see you take study in proper literature,” Rarity said dryly, “no amount of misquoted Mark Neighn is going to convince me about any of this alien invasion foalishness.” Her features became stern as she went on, “Now you girls are going to clean this mess and-”

Rarity’s lecture was interrupted by the sound of thunder. “Strange,” she said bewilderedly, “the weather team never planned any storms today.”

Confusion turned to fear a second peal sounded and became a continuous, increasingly loud rumble. Objects started tumbling off the selves as the shop began to shake. “Girls!” she yelled in alarm, “under the table, quickly!”

For once, the CMC did as they were told without argument. Rarity tried to join them, but fell to the ground as the entire shop shook beneath her hooves and a deafening boom filled the air. Flecks danced across her vision as her face hit the floor.

As quickly as it started, the noise and tremors stopped and the shop stilled. Rarity shook her head to clear her vision as she struggled to her hooves with the help of a worried looking Sweetie Bell.

“Uh, Rarity?” Scootaloo called uncertainly from her new spot beside Applebloom as they both started out the window. “You might want to rethink your opinion about our ‘alien invasion foalishness.’”

Rarity and Sweetie worked their way slowly to the window. Rarity’s eyes bulged at the sight while Sweetie just smirked and said in a squeaky voice, “They’re heeereee.”

****

The entire Royal Solar and Lunar Guards were assembled at the base of the mountain where Canterlot rested. The formation was headed by both of the Pony Sisters as they never had before in centuries. The elements had also been assembled and called to stand beside the Royal Sisters at the head of the formation. Clinking could be heard as numerous guards from both companies tried and failed to keep from shivering in fear at the sight before them. Even Celestia and Luna had to struggle to maintain a calm demeanor for their little ponies as they faced the terrifying form before them.

Within a crater formed by its landing a massive, metallic behemoth stood on four legs and faced the direction of Canterlot as it had when it landed a couple of hours before. It stood over one hundred meters in height and its eyes glowed with an eerie blue light. It had turned toward the military formation that had assembled before it but did nothing else since then.

“I don’t know why the rest of you are worried. It’s just a pile of scrap metal! I’m sure not s-scared!” Rainbow Dash tried to say haughtily. She hovered in the air behind the other elements while crossing her front hooves in an attempt to look tough while hiding her own trembling.

“As inspirational as that is to tha rest of us,” Applejack drawled sarcastically at Rainbow before turning a worried face to the Pony Sisters, “I don’ s’ppose either of yer highnesses have dealt with anythin’ like this before have ya?”

Celestia and Luna both shook their heads. “In all my time, I have never seen a creature like this. Even the oldest prisoners held in Tartarus didn’t reach this size,” Celestia said with a small frown on her face, “the last metal beast I recall seeing was Talus and even he wasn’t this large.” She looked and her frown deepened in worry, “I wasn’t even aware constructs could be that large and stand under their own weight. Much less fall out of the sky!”

“This isn’t a normal construct, sister.” Everypony turned surprised looks toward Luna who focused an intense stare on the creature. “Does nopony feel that? Tis emitting an aura; a living aura. The truly strange part is how it…flickers,” Luna looked at the rest with an apologetic frown, “I truly know no other way to describe it. At one moment I sense a lonely soul. At another, it seems to hold a host of thousands, nay millions screaming in pain. Beneath all of it I sense something old. Something…cold and devoid of empathy or kindness.” Luna closed her eyes and muttered softly, “Something like her.”

Celestia eyes tightened in worry as she looked to her sister with concern. She hated to see her sister reminded of those dark times after just reuniting. But even more worrisome, she thought as her gaze went back to the gargantuan figure, is the idea that this thing might be remotely similar to Nightmare. There was no telling what sort of power a thing like that might be capable of.

“Awww, come on, girls,” Pinkie Pie said as she rolled her eyes, “Isn’t everypony overreacting? Nopony with a party cannon that big could be all bad. I might even have to ask him where he gets his party supplies.”

The Princesses and Elements looked at the party mare in confusion. “Pardon my little pony?” Celestia asked uncertainly, “what party cannon?”

“Well, duh,” Pinkie said as she pointed upwards, “that big one just above and behind his head.”

Everypony looked up at the indicated direction and their eyes widened. All of them had been so distracted by the sheer size that none had noticed, or even considered the idea of, an additional weapon present. Looking closer at the cylindrical shaped chamber above its head, however, it was impossible to mistake it for anything else.

“Princess,” Celestia looked down to see her faithful student shivering beside her, “I can’t even begin to guess what kind of projectiles something like that might use but factoring the size alone,” Twilight eyes widened slowly as she whispered, “it could wipe Canterlot off the map in one blast.”

“Remain calm my little ponies,” Celestia said quietly in an attempt to soothe them. “We cannot act rashly. The creature has yet to make any moves. In the meantime, we may wish to keep this discovery quiet. Otherwise, we could start a-”

“Hey, hang on! Is that a cannon?!”

“Holy horse apples! Look at the size of that thing!”

“We’re all going to die!”

“-panic,” the Princess finished flatly as apprehensive muttering rose from the formation behind her. She shook her head and looked up at the creature as it continued to stare down at the crowd and do nothing. What in Tartarus could that creature be thinking? she thought anxiously.

****

“WHAT IN DARKSPACE HELL COULD YOU HAVE BEEN THINKING!?!”

An hour after MS had landed at the drop zone, an endpoint for the quantum entanglement line was established inside the Reaper Destroyer to allow me to send through a holosphere to communicate to the locals. The both of us were sitting in the Destroyer command center where we could watch events through a vid screen while I planned my contact speech. You know, the whole phase of the contact where you offer gifts, promise not to stomp them into paste, etcetera.

Except I was planning this message for a bunch of farmers in the countryside, not legions of panicky soldiers.

“When I mentioned dropping a behemoth on their front porch I wasn’t being literal,” I said to MS in exasperation. “You were supposed to land in a sparsely populated area. The locals would freak out, messages would be sent, and the government would send someone to check things out. Through all of that, we would sit back and let them get used to our presence. By the time an envoy reached us, the first witnesses would probably have chilled out enough to let them know ‘Hey! Don’t worry about the big guy. He mostly stands around doing nothing. No threat here!’”

I turned toward MS while making the best attempt of a glare as I could using a bouncing orb of light. “Now, instead of a few dozen farmers to pass some word of mouth, we’re facing their rulers backed by a force of over nine thousand terrified soldiers. OVER NINE THOUSAND!!! JUST WHAT THE HECK DO WE DO NOW!?! OH NO! I’M STARTING TO LOSE IT MORE THAN USUAL! MS! SLAP ME!”

MS tilted his head while giving a questioning beep.

“I’M IN A FRIGGIN PANIC, THAT’S WHY! NOW STOP QUESTIONOING AND DO IT!!!”

A brief whistle sounded as the marauder’s hand flew through the air; only to go straight through me doing no more than causing my image to blink. We both stared at each other for a few moments, me in mortification and him waiting for a command, before I finally spoke up again. “Riiiight. Stupid Jeff. I’m in hologram form, meaning there’s no inherent mass to slap in the first place. Wonder why I keep forgetting that?

“Well, whatever. Distracted me from panicing. Purpose served.” I glanced at the video screen showing the pony forces, then back at MS. “So. Happen to have any ideas off the top of your head?”

Marauder shrugged and answered in a series of beeps and grunts.

The answer left me staring incredulously back. “Really? Really!?! That’s your answer!?! Distract them with a beam of light so you can jump from cover and take them by surprise!? What the heck is the point of that?! We’re supposed to be bringing a message ‘We come in peace’ not ‘We’ll leave you in pieces!’ Just how stupid are you?”

A line of beeps and grunts came in retort.

“Oh, hoity toity Mr. ‘I’m just a figment of your imagination so I’m as stupid as you make me.’ Seriously, how many centuries are you going to throw that in my face before you get some new material?”

MS gave another beeping retort.

“We’ve gone over this MS. I decided to use a Destroyer to make contact because it’s smaller and, in theory, less threatening. It’s only around a hundred and sixty meters tall while Troop Transports can be over two hundred meters tall. The smaller the better in a situation like this. Now I will admit, some of that nonthreatening vibe would be lost by the fact that Destroyers have giant guns strapped to their heads, but consider the facts,” I pulled up a new screen displaying text and data, “based on our probe observation, none of their history involves use of any advanced weaponry. There’s no record of gunpowder or similar compounds used and the closest thing they have to fireworks and artillery come from direct use of magic rather than any tool resembling weapons. Logically speaking, they should have no way of having the concept of a cannon in the first place, let alone be able to recognize one.”

My theory was dashed as bits of pony conversation came in through the audio receivers.

“Hey, hang on! Is that a cannon?!”

“Holy horse apples! Look at the size of that thing!”

“We’re all going to die!”

“DARN YOU AND YOUR NON CANONICAL SOCIETY!!” I yelled in frustration, my voice ringing through the halls of the Destroyer.

“Okay, okay play it cool, Jeff. Don’t panic. Just consider your options.” When he first got news about these ponies, he actually considered using music to break the ice. Perhaps even with a few extra gimmicks? However, the song he had picked was basically a love song and he was pretty sure acceptable messages of peace didn’t include something that sounded like he was trying to get to second base. Hang on a second. Where would second base even be on a pony? No! Focus, Jeff! Focus! Options.

Option one might be doable but at the cost of some uber awkwardness. What other options are there though? Maybe just sitting in silence until they decide I won’t do anything. Sure, they were reasonable beings right? I could just wait here without any need for-

Amidst my little bout of indecision, the scanners noted large an energy spike and the audio picked up some conversation from the white winged unicorn. “Spread word and see about preparing an evacuation. I may have to target a Sun Strike.”

“Aaaand uber awkwardness it is!”

****

“Sister, art thou sure about this?” Luna asked softly. “Even a small Sun Strike would leave devastation in the surrounding land.”

“I am well aware of the risk, but we may have to consider it anyway,” Celestia replied just as softly, worry lining her voice. “From what we have seen so far, this is either a weapon left lying around and has to be removed or is being controlled by an unstable mind. We will try diplomacy but we must also be prepared to-”

Celestia was interrupted by a loud, electronic squeal that filled the air and forced the entire pony host to fold their ears in pain. The squeal faded and was replaced by strange chanting. “Uga chaka uga chaka uga uga uga chaka.” A single voice broke into song through the chanting and alien music blared from the creature. Before anypony could react, the gigantic creature twisted itself as far to the left as it could. It paused a second before twisting its way to fully to the opposite direction, filling the air with grinding and whining as massive machinery worked to support its movements.

“Sister,” Luna breathed out, “is…is it doing what I think it is doing?”

Celestia shook her head in wonder. “It…it seems to be...”

“YEAH! It’s getting its groove thang on!!” Pinkie shouted excitedly as she danced happily to the catchy music.

Before Celestia could say anything in answer, she noticed the creature lifting one of its feet. “EVERYPONY BRACE YOURSELVES!!!” The foot came smashing into the ground on a downbeat of the song, sending everypony to their knees from the shockwave. As it continued to stomp to downbeats, the pegasi and alicorns eventually took flight to avoid the worst of the shock waves while unicorns had to use shock absorption spells to aid themselves and their earth pony associates.

The Equestrian host watched in awe for the next few minutes as the imposing being continued its lumbering dance. The air was filled with strange music, hydraulic and grinding noise as the creature twisted, and thundering booms as it shook the ground while stomping to the downbeats of the song. At the song’s end, the creature gave a final stomp and settled back into its earlier position where it resumed staring at the mass of ponies below.

Silence hung between the ponies and giant. After recovering enough composure to close her own gaping jaw, Celestia looked around to gauge the reactions of her ponies. The soldiers, Solar and Lunar alike, stared agape at the recently dancing giant. Their once pristine armor had become disheveled and dust covered as they had given up trying to straighten them halfway through the song. The Elements and her sister were likewise disheveled and staring; except for Pinkie. She was still dancing and hopping to the alien tune that she now hummed to herself. She was actually better kept than the rest of them as she had somehow timed her hops in such a way that she had avoided the worst of the tremors.

It was Rainbow who broke the silence. “Did…did that thing just hit on us?”

Author's Note

And here's an update:pinkiehappy:! Things started getting longer than expected and that last line seemed best to end it so Part 1 of 2

Per usual, comments and feedback are welcomed and appreciated:twilightsmile:.

Ch 3: Dance dance diplomacy part 2

The Princesses and the Elements stood in a semi-circle while staring warily at a figure standing a few meters in front of them. If anypony had been asked what word would have best described it? It would have been terrifying.

It stood on two legs like a diamond dog or a minotaur but that is where all semblance of familiarity ended. It had a lithe and lean body that stood as tall as Celestia. The creature’s arms ended in a hand with three digits. Its head was topped with a back sweeping crest and mandibles were placed where a mouth would have been. Most in the group seemed to think it was a mix between an insect and bird of prey. The steel plating, blackened skin, and reflective eyes didn’t help with softening the intimidating visage. Add the fact that, just a few minutes before, it had jumped from the giant’s head only to float to the ground in a blossom of blue energy that nopony’s magic sense could identify and any chances of looking peaceable seemed completely out of reach. Then again, they were just serenaded by a giant, dancing construct of death and destruction. Maybe cowering at a glowing, metal biped was a bit pointless by comparison?

“But what do we do now?!” Twilight whispered urgently. “It has just been standing there for the last ten minutes. Is it waiting for something?”

“I am unsure my faithful student,” Celestia whispered back to Twilight without taking her eyes off of the creature in front of them, “I wish I had an answer for this but I’ve never seen anything like this in all of my rule. At the very least I think its intentions are peaceful.”

“Maybe we were challenged to a dance off?” Pinkie asked innocently before yipping in a fake Prench accent, “VI VA LE DANCE DANCE!!”

“Pinkie Pie, this is not the time for your randomness!” Rainbow hissed. “We’re looking staring down an alien and a giant, laser cannon wielding robot. I doubt they came here for fruit punch and dance parties.”

“Yer just freaked out ‘cause you think it was hittin’ on our species,” Applejack said with a smirk.

“Darn straight I am!” Rainbow barked back. “There’s no way I’m going to let my guard down around this thing. I ain’t standing here and waiting for some spider thing to jump out of its chest cavity, glomp onto my muzzle, and leave me with space babies that grow up to hunt ponies for sport before selling us to talking monkey overlords! You might be willing to take that chance but not me! Nuh uh! No! Way!” She crossed her hooves and looked away, snorting in annoyance. She stayed that way for a few moments before noticing complete silence. Rainbow looked back to see that the Princesses, Elements, and even a few nearby guardsponies were staring at her. After sitting under their incredulous stares for a while, she finally had the grace to look down in embarrassment. “Okay, so maybe I jumped to a few conclusions there.”

“Ya sure there was enough, Sugarcube? ‘Cause I think there’s room for a few more in there. Maybe we could call Stallion Lee or Colt Carpenter fer some suggestions?”

Rainbow opened her mouth to retort before Twilight interrupted, “Rainbow Dash, you have been sneaking into my experimental caffeine substitute again haven’t you?” Rainbow’s mouth clapped shut and she looked sideways with a sheepish smile while scratching the back of her neck with her hoof. “Darn it, Rainbow! I told you that hasn’t been properly tested yet! You can’t just sneak into the library and grab some anytime you think need to get more practice in!!”

“She’s right, Darling. Whatever this concoction is, it clearly has some nasty side effects,” Rarity said with a worried frown. “Besides, manic paranoia is Twilight’s thing and we certainly don’t need a second pony to worry about on that score.”

“HEY!!” Twilight and Rainbow both blurted.

Celestia sighed as she prepared to play diplomat to try and head off any fights. She was interrupted by gasps that drew her and the Elements’ attention to the creature. It had taken a single step forward and reached its hand toward them with the palm facing forward. Two of its digits formed a ‘V’ shape while the third stretched at a right angle to the rest of the hand. While trying to guess the meaning of the gesture, Celestia could swear she heard a voice whispering ‘Come on don’t just stand there, use that new voice box!’ Before she could identify the source, she and all her ponies widened their eyes in surprise as the creature spoke in a gravelly, electric voice, “Clatoo. Verada. Nicto.” It lowered its hand, went to a parade rest and gazed at them expectantly.

“Umm. Twi?” Applejack asked out of the corner of her mouth as she stared at the creature, “any o’ that fancy scholarly study give ya an idea of what it said?”

“It is not like anything I have heard or studied,” Twilight said shaking her head and looking to the Princesses hopefully, “Maybe it is a dead language? Something that existed in older times?”

Celestia and Luna both gave a small shake of their own heads to indicate that they had heard nothing of it either. Everypony jumped at a sudden shout. “OH, COME ON!! ALL THAT CRAP YOU SPEWED AND THOSE REFERENCES GO OVER YOUR HEAD!?! THOSE WERE CLASSICS, MAN!!”

“We get it!”

Everypony turned to the squeaky voice to find its source slipping out from between two surprised guardsponies. “SWEETIE BELL!! GIRLS!!” Rarity screeched, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“Applebloom! You three shouldn’t be here,” Applejack said sternly.

“Yeah, Scoots!” Rainbow added along with a scowl of her own, “And weren’t you supposed to be with Spike?”

Said dragon burst through the line of guards and fell to his knees beside the CMC as he struggled to catch his breath. “Fillies-gasp-so much energy-wheeze-How?”

The fillies looked at Spike guiltily then to their siblings/mentors imploringly. “Come one, Rainbow!” Scoots’ scratchy voice pleaded, “How many time in our lives are we going to see real live aliens!?”

“Yeah, sis!” Applebloom said with big eyes, “And besides, we can help! We know what the critter said!”

“How could you possibly know that, girls?” Twilight asked doubtfully.

“Here,” Sweetie pulled out some comics and books with her magic, “the gesture came from Star Trot. It was a peace sign from the Vulcans that meant ‘Graze long and prosper.’ The words were special pass codes on The Day Equus Stood Still that saved the world from a super weapon that kept watch over the galaxy.”

“Not quite the same names or terms I would’ve used but…meh. Close enough for horseshoes. Heh. Horseshoes. Gotta remember that one for later.”

The crowd of ponies started at the new voice and looked back to the figure in awe as static filled the air for a moment as a ball of light with an ocular disk in its front flickered into being before them. It bounced a couple of times as it spoke. “Greetings, ponies of Equus! I come in peace! Take me to your leaders!” For some reason, the sphere vibrated and giggled at the last line.

The Princesses stepped forward warily and nodded their heads. “Greetings, visitor. I am Princess Celestia, diarch of Equestria and guardian of the day.”

“And We are Princess Luna, diarch of Equestria and guardian of the night. By what title art thou known?”

“In my many travels across worlds I have most often been called,” the sphere rose a foot and looked toward the horizon as if posing, “‘Giant, scary robot oh god please don’t eat or step on us!’ But that always tended to bum me out, so I just prefer Jeff if you don’t mind. That’s what my friends call me.” Jeff looked off to the side and back. “Well, at least they would if I had any friends.”

The Celestia shared an uncertain glance with her sister before turning back to address Jeff. “Indeed. If it is well with you, could I inquire as to what manner of being you are and your purpose?”

“Oh, not a problem, Celly. Can I call you Celly?”

“…I would prefer Celestia.”

“Oh, right, sure thing Cell, er, Celestia. Anyway, I’m basically the last surviving member of a race of giant, living machines.”

“Whoa, whoa, time out,” Rainbow called and leveled a suspicious glare at him, “what do you mean ‘giant?’ That thing fits the bill,” she said, pointing out the metal form, “But you’re just a bouncing, glowy, ball thing.”

“Good question. You see, this ball of light you’re seeing is actually me projecting a portion of my will though small image made of light called a ‘holosphere.’ It’s a little trick that lets me talk with smaller creatures on a one on one level rather than speaking with an obnoxiously loud voice that could shatter their eardrums”-Luna’s eyes darted around self-consciously at this-“and I can project one anywhere at any time so long as I have a ‘representative’ present like my associate Marauder Shields here,” Jeff glanced at the being to his left and it waved its hand in acknowledgement before going back to parade rest, “or any device designed to pass on and/or enhance my signal.”

“Oh my gosh. You mean like a long-range astral projection?!” Twilight squealed.

“Uh, yeah. Atsron proj- uh, what you said.” He turned back to Rainbow. “Anyway, does that answer your question, sir?”

“I’m a mare,” Rainbow said flatly.

“Oh…really? Huh,” the holosphere said intelligently. “With the overly compensating aggression and apparent wave of testosterone, I could’ve sworn you were a dude. A recently castrated one, maybe, but still-”

“ARRRGH!” Rainbow yelled angrily as she charged…only to fly though Jeff’s image and plow into the ground behind throwing a cloud of dirt into the air.

He turned around to regard the downed pegasus. “You forgot the part about me being made of light, right? Don’t feel bad. I forget that all the time.” This got him an irritated mumble in response as the mare stubbornly refused to rise from her crash zone.

Twilight broke in before things could get heated again. “Uhmm. Yes. Anyway, could I ask you about the ‘living machines’ claim?” Twilight asked hesitantly. “That doesn’t seem possible.”

“Ah, yes. That’s an excellent question Ms. Purple Apparently Intellectual Pony.”

“Oh, sorry. My name is Twilight Sparkle.”

“Okay. Thank you Nightlight.”

“No, that would be my father. I’m Twilight.”

“Bi-light?”

“NO!” an annoyed tone rising in her voice, “It’s Twilight!”

“Timmy T.?”

“THAT-!” Twilight sputtered, “THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE!”

“Twilight. Sparkle,” Celestia’s voice cut through the quarrel, “Her name is Twilight Sparkle and it would be appreciated if you didn’t antagonize my subjects, Jeff.”

“Who said I was trying to?” Jeff asked with a bemused tone in his voice.

Celestia’s face remained passive aside from a confused blink of her eyes as she tried to figure out if Jeff was joking or truly that scatter brained. Deciding to assume the latter, she took the liberty of introducing the other Elements herself to prevent another fight. “Now, if you would be willing to answer Twilight’s original question? As well as my own.”

“Ah, yes. Of course. Well, as to how, I’m not entirely sure myself as we were started a long, long, looong time ago. Basically there was a lot of experimentation, *mumble* mass extinctions *mumble* augments, and lots of advanced science-y stuff. I’d try to explain the advanced science-y stuff, but the knowledge itself could be dangerous. I figure it’s best to wait on that until the Princesses shift through it and decided what your culture is ready for.”

“That would be much appreciated,” Celestia muttered. Even with her alicorn hearing, she couldn’t quite catch what he mumbled. Her instincts, however, told her it was probably best nopony heard. “And how is it that you are the last?”

“Right, well let me explain,” Jeff hesitated before shaking himself, “no, there’s too much. Let me sum up. We were a race of living machines created for the purpose of keeping order. The problem is, we were jerks about it which led to many MANY millennia of conflict with other cultures. Eventually, one of those cultures learned of a way to put the metaphorical boot up our rears, and put it they did,”-Fluttershy quietly asked to the side what a boot was, only getting an uncertain shrug from Applejack in response-“which resulted in all but one of us getting wiped out. Seeing the negative results, it was reasoned that we didn’t really understand the whole ‘order along with life and harmony’ thing and needed to meet new life that we could observe and interact with to learn how to correct our past mistakes. So to make a long story short-”

“Too late,” Rainbow grumbled from her mini crater.

“-standing orders to find new life and learn from them left me exiled in a section of dark space(basically an empty, lightless, and silent section of creation) for waaay too long. Honestly, by this point I’m just happy I finally have someone besides myself and mindless dolls to talk to.” Jeff looked back to the biped and called, “No offence, buddy!” to which Shields answered with a shrug and beep.

“You speak of exile,” Luna commented tentatively, trying to hide her discomfort about the subject, “for exactly how long have you been alone?”

“Huh. Another good question. Let’s see…what is today?”

Everypony looked at each other uncertainly before Pinkie Pie hopped up answering, “Tuesday!”

“Tuesday? Right then, carry a four, minus the war, divided by remaining sanity,” Jeff’s inane ‘calculations’ continued in a mutter before he looked back up to the mares and spoke matter-of-factly, “roughly thirty thousand years.”

“THIRTY THOUSAND YEARS!?!” Luna bellowed matching the shock value of the group’s stares through sheer sound volume of her Canterlot Voice, “EGADS!! HOW DIDST THOU STAY SANE!?!”

“Oh, staying sane was easy,” Jeff scoffed, “the hard part was staying sane.” He giggled at what he seemed to think was the funniest joke in the world, apparently unaware of the pained and compassionate looks being directed at him by Luna and Fluttershy as well as Pinkie’s teary eyed stare. He seemed equally unaware of the very nervous glances shared between Celestia and the other Elements.

Before Celestia could formulate a plan to approach powerful and potentially unhinged being in front of them, another powerful and potentially unhinged being stomped forward with enough force to leave cracks in granite slags beneath her hooves. “THIS SHALL NOT STAND! WE- uhm, ahem,” Luna closed her eyes, taking a calming breath before opening and continuing in a gentler manner, “that is to say, our kingdom is founded on the principles friendship, tolerance, and harmony. It would be remiss to deny you the chance to partake in them. Further, as one who understands what it means to be,” she hesitated trying to force out what came next, “feared for their past and appearance while reaching out without knowing if I would be answered, let me be the first to offer my friendship.” Luna offered a smile and gestured her hoof forward to emphasize the offer. As the sphere of light stared from her to the hoof and back to her, she couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of Deja vu back to her own return from Nightmare Moon.

“So…really?” Jeff said desperately as if worried he was hallucinating. But then, with thirty thousand years in the equation, perhaps even a machine may have struggled with such things? “I mean, a giant crazy robot falls out of the sky and you want to be friends?” Luna nodded with her serene smile still in place. The others held their breath as they watched the two figures regard one another. “Princess, I- I would be honored to have you as a friend.”

The others sighed in relief except for Pinkie and the CMC who jumped and cheered for everything they were worth. “This…Well, I’ve got to say it feels pretty nice. Honestly, I can’t remember how long since it’s been since I’ve been this happy. In fact, the only thing keeping me crying like a baby is probably the fact that I don’t have tear ducts anymore.” Jeff turned toward Marauder and yelled, “Hey! Shields! Take a note to remind me to install tear ducts in you later so you can cry for me!” Marauder nodded briefly in acknowledgement.

Before anpony could notice and start berating, the CMC hopped over to Luna’s side where they could introduce themselves to Jeff and Shield. After getting pleasantries out of the way they fell back into their typical routine of switching between admiring his cool ‘body guard’ and bombarding him with as many questions as they could think of about what it’s like being a space alien. Although, Scootaloo still grumbled on occasion about seeing her hero eating dirt.

“Hey, maybe after al’ this, ya could hang out with us for a bit?” Applebloom put in hopefully. “We could show ya ‘round town, we could swap stories, you ‘bout space and us ‘bout life in Equus-”

“Yeah! Maybe he could even come with us for that new sy-fy convention!” Sweetie piped up.

“The…? The what now?” Jeff asked slowly.

“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t know about it yet. They’re only one of the neatest events in Equestria!” the little white filly seemed to squeak and vibrate with more excitement as she rambled on, “everypony wears costumes from their favorite stories, they play games, have authors come speak and sign autographs.”

“I still don’t like seeing Rainbow Dash take a hit like that,” Scootaloo growled only for her belligerent scowl turn to a thoughtful frown. “Although, I gotta admit it would be pretty cool to see their reactions when we show up with an actual space alien as a friend.”

“Conventions? Conventions. Hmmm”

At the sound of Jeff’s tone, Luna managed to pull her attention away from the hyperactive trio of fillies to settle on Jeff with a worried frown. “Jeff? Is something the matter?”
“Convention,” Jeff muttered. “Conventions. Con…?” All of his senses faded to white only to be replaced by a torrent of past images and sensations.

****

It was a hot, arid evening in Phoenix, Arizona. My hand pulled out a compact to check the state of my face before entering into the enormous civic center. As my memory self strolled through the doors and idly observed the stalls and stage areas being taken down by crews, my conscious mind roiled in confusion at the scene going on around me.

Hang on. What’s going on here? I’ve never been to Arizona, as a human or a Reaper, and I certainly don’t remember being the type to hang out in these little space groupie functions. I thought back to the compact and what I saw in its reflection. For that matter, I’m at least 99.999995 percent sure that I was never a girl from a Dungeon and Dragons club either.

One of my perks/drawbacks about being machine me? When I observe a memory I don’t just go over the events in some fuzzy incomplete imagery. I see it as crystal clear as they and can go over every piece of hard data around the event. Every piece. Whether the exact time, atmospheric conditions, element content in surrounding matter, recorded thoughts, or even my own physical condition at the time.

While the scene continued to play I pulled up the data readouts and got a shock. There was nothing human about my being in this little memory. It was a husk. More accurately, a husk that was overhauled to look and operate like a normal human. There was also something oddly familiar about the thought processes running through its cranium.

My suspicions were put on hold as the husk opened a door and strolled into some sort of loading room where merchandise was being packed in boxes to be shipped out by truck. The items included everything from sy-fy weaponry and costume pieces to plush toys and models. A scruffy guy in worn clothing looked up in annoyance from amidst the boxes he was loading.

“Hey, what are you doing here? It’s personnel only back here and the comi-con is over. You need…to?” he frowned in confusion before his face lit up. “Oh, I remember you,” he said in a friendlier tone, “quiet kid from earlier that had to leave. I recall promising to hold a little something for you here at closing. Hang, on a sec.”

The proprietor stepped over to another box, digging through until he finally found and brought up an item in both of his hands with a triumphant grunt. “Here we are little missy. Quality crafted model based on the Mass Effect game series.”

Model my colossal metal butt! I thought in shock as I recognized the thing. It only made sense I would since I’d only been talking to the owner of the thing for more millennia than I cared to count. It was the head of my current assistant, Marauder Shields.

“I have to say, you’re lucky you caught me before I left. Quality craftsmanship at the price I’m offering is quite a steal miss-”

“Inquisitor,” the husk interrupted in a surprisingly normal girl’s voice. “Also, I find it ironic you would call it a steal, considering you stole it from me. Something I intend to rectify, organic vermin.” The merchant’s confused eyes widened as the husk’s voice went from a soft girl’s soprano to the unholy bass of a Reaper. The husk raised its hand and-

Error. Data inaccessible.

****

That weasel was holding out on me!

“Friend, Jeff. Is everything well?” Luna’s concerned voice cut through the shock and reminding me as was still technically in the middle of a first contact.

“Huh whowaaa? Oh. Right, sorry Luna. I uh,” I stammered sheepishly, “I guess even a hyper advanced machine creature can be a little overwhelmed at finding so many friends in one day after being alone for so long.”

A little plus about being a super advanced machine? Multi-tasking became supper easy. I immediately put that little perk to work by setting up a separate process that would keep my holosphere conversing so I could focus on the turmoil brought on my this new little revelation.

I went over the time stamp on the memory and confirmed its date sometime after the war’s end and before my abduction. Questions raged over it: who was that guy and how did he get ahold of Shield’s head? Why had I not found this memory until now and why only in part? What the heck was that about something called mass effect games?!

The message found left by Inquisitor said I would have full access to all his intel and resources, but it seems that wasn’t wholly the case. Apparently, former genocidal AIs had honesty issues. Who’d a thought it? Most importantly, that husk. It had been modified to the point that it looked and sounded enough like a human to fool others. Pretty strange, considering stealth and infiltration weren’t the Reapers’ usual MO. What’s more…

I’ve been having conversations and play auditions with characters right out of ‘House of the Dead’ and I could’ve been creating my own all-star Broadway cast?! the thoughtraged across my mind, Damn it Inq! When I find you in my processors you are SO derezzed!! To that purpose, as well as finding any other surprises in my system, I set a scanning process to work on sifting thought my drives. It would likely take a couple of years to finish but, meh, if there’s anything I’ve got an abundance of, it’s time.

With that out of the way, I turned my attention back to my new friends. Celestia had just finished agreeing with me on a time to have an audience with them to discuss what I could do to earn my citizenship here. “Also, there might be the slight issue of, well,” she looked up nervously at the destroyer than back at my holosphere, “size compatibility. Since you can project your will through your assistant for communication, perhaps your body could be relocated to a more spacious area?”

“Heh? My what now?-!” I looked back at the destroyer to Celestia again before it clicked, “OH! Oh, yeah my body! Yes, my body. I can see where that could be a problem with my body being so huge. Don’t worry though. My scanners picked up some cave systems on the peak of one of your nearby mountains. Dragon peak I think it’s called? Yeah, I could just make some adjustments to it and move my body there. Sure yeah, no problem!” She raised an eyebrow at my lack of composure but nodded, possibly assuming it to be some eccentricity on my part. I felt bad about hiding things from them but, if they freaked out this much about a destroyer, how bad would they freak if they found out I was two kilometers tall and packing WAY more fire power? Discretion is the better part of valor and that.

“Well, that is that then. All of this will take time though so,” Princess Luna looked down into the ocular lens of my sphere with a friendly gaze, “is there anything you would like to do in the mean time?”

“PARTY!!” Pinke yelled loud enough to rival Luna’s Canterlot Voice.

“Yes, Pinkie Pie, I’m sure he would like one of your parties but that will likely require time as well,” Luna rubbed her ringing ears then looked back at me, “so does anything else come to mind? A tour of our home? The sights of our city, perhaps?”

“Well…Now that you mention it there was this little something I had prepared as sort of a peace gesture before I got here.”

“Yes?” Luna prompted encouragingly.

I looked at my new friends with the most hopeful gaze I could muster. “What do you think of…operas?”

Author's Note

Dun dun duuuuun!

What has Inquisitor been hiding from our hero Jeff? Will this new friendship survive the test? How well will SpongeBob the Space Opera be received?
Find the answers to these questions and more on the next chapter of Friendship and Space Magic. What could go wrong?

“THAT-!” Twilight sputtered, “THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE!”

Silly Twilight, of course it does! The question is, 'who out there will point out why?':duck: To that purpose here are two hints.
Hint 1) Tara Strong
Hint 2) If you absolutely must look up Tara Strong, you get an 'F.' FOREVER!!!:flutterrage:

Side Story: Meeting the Neighbors and Networking

I must insist we go with selection number two as it provides the most significant increase in efficiency to our goal.

I rolled my, well technically Shields’, eyes at his mental assertion. “Seriously, Sheilds? ‘Efficiency to our goal?’” I said aloud, “we’re picking colors to repaint a cottage not planning world domination. Besides, I see way too much yellow in this world as it is. We’re going with blue.”

If I am to suffer the indignity of sitting trapped in my cranium while you use my body for menial tasks, we should at least to so as quickly as possible so we can separate and go back to our original objectives.

“Don’t be such a drama bot, Shields.” I could sense him sulking in the back of my consciousness. “Inq wanted to learn about organic thought processes and the abstract concepts that motivated them in the war, right? The best way to do that is to mingle amongst them. We got the first step out of the way by making a positive impression during our first contact.”

I take it you are not including your ‘art’ that flooded the psychiatric offices with activity for weeks afterward? Shield’s thought came snidely.

“Shut up, Shields,” I snapped irritably as I tossed the color cards aside and started moving equipment from the walls. “Anyway, the next step we have to do is establish a safe ‘home’ that they can visit. We can’t have them thinking this place looks like a rusty chop shop out of a horror movie.”

So…the next step in diplomacy is making a rusty chop shop look like a blue chop shop?

“Hey, I didn’t say it was a big step.”

You realize there are more…essential matters we could attend to, correct? Shields hesitantly projected the thought with all the caution of navigating a mine field. Such as checking our restraints on the indoctrination fields to prevent further casualties? It may be wise to examine the mare’s level of deterioration to insure-

Shields never finished his thought as I activated the biotic generators and flicked my ‘borrowed’ hands sending streams of blue-white streams of energy lashing about me before fading away. Seconds later, a nearby titanium ingot burst into paper-thin ribbons separated at the molecular level.

“Shields, you will shut the Hell up and listen very closely,” I spoke in a voice that sounded cold and devoid of all emotion as it hadn’t in millennia. In fact, it sounded more fitting to my Reaper predecessor. “We caught the slip up in time. Nopony was indoctrinated to a point beyond treatment. Everything possible has been put into effect to insure this doesn’t happen again. And, more importantly, the mare has a name. Unless you want your minuscule personality purged from the system, you will not flippantly bring up that past incident again because of being pissy at having your body directed for a little home improvement. You will not describe her as some random variable in a report or an experiment. Do I make myself clear?”

…affirmative.

After letting the silence stretch for a time, I nodded my head and let the mood lighten up. “I realize using your platform so often has left a strain but I have a new platform in the works. Until it’s finished, I ask that you bear with the situation a bit longer. Then this platform will be strictly yours and you’ll be a proper assistant not a mental roomie stuck sharing one cranium space. Fair enough?”

Fair enough, sir.

After clearing some boxes, I stepped back and studied the wall through a frame made with Shields’ fingers. “So, MS,” I said, all trace of the cold anger gone from my voice, “got any ideas for a good theme? Perhaps something borrowed from my old memories on Earth? Something that would be similar enough to them to be familiar but still have than alien quality. I’m thinking either Hello Kitty or My little Pet Shop?”

I heard Shields give the equivalent of a snort from the back of my consciousness, Perhaps something along the parameters of ‘won’t break their universe if a pony walks in and sees it’ would be more called for?

“Oh, come on MS,” I groaned, “please don’t start again with your rubbish about the entertainment industry seeing the existence of other worlds across the fabric of reality. I refuse to believe the multiverse is so unimaginative as that.”

You would be surpr- WARNING! Incoming multiverse disturbance detected.

I looked quickly to my left to see a rift in the air. “What the He- Ack!!” *Clang* Something flew through the rift and smacked the side of my head, knocking me to the floor. After a moment sprawled on the ground, I shook my head clear and forced myself up to get a look around. The rift was closed and the offending object, a canister of some sort, lay beside me. I picked it up and gingerly opened it to check its contents. It was a letter.

To you who find this folder-

If you are reading this, you are what I refer to as a Displaced. Some of us are being held here, in worlds not our own, by one known as The Merchant, a Void-Dweller of great power. If you can use these notes to find your way back to your relative home, I wish you the best of luck. Either because The Merchant is not to be trifled with, or because finding your relative Earth in all the Multiverse is like trying to find a grain of sand in a sandstorm.

Personally, I do not desire to leave. True, abandoning my life on Earth seems cowardly. But the power I now wield confers a responsibility, one that I fulfill willingly. And life in Equestria is more likely to be peaceable than life on Earth.

To those that want to return, I wish you the best of luck, and tell you that the best of results could be gathered by using something that you brought with you.

To those that wish to remain, I tell you that these notes can easily be reversed and used to shield your home from intrusions. Most notably, Discord could find them useful.

To those of you that wish to try to fight The Merchant, I tell you that he will likely not go down easy. Your best bet is to find the one known as Xante and team up with him.

And to those of you that wish to drag us all back...

Do not test me.

-Auric Fulcrum, Master of Psynergy, Wielder of the Flames of Alchemy, Slayer of the Wise One, Knight of the Eclipse, Lord of Eureka, Blade of Understanding

So, he continued his little schemes, Shields said thoughtfully.

“You think this ‘Merchant’ might be the same one Inquisitor ran into?”

You needn’t make hasty assumptions, sir, Shields remarked dryly, I’m sure it could be one of the other Interdimensional beings using enchanted items to fling humans across the multiverse while calling himself ‘The Merchant.’

I face palmed at the remark. “Yes, MS, I’m well aware the foundation of your AI is based on my own cynicism. Even so, would it be too much to ask you crank down the snark?”

No promises.

I sighed and looked back at the letter. “Still, I’m actually surprised the guy kept on with his little pranks after that scare from Inquisitor.”

The multiverse is in a constant flux. It is possible this letter was written by and to displaced that were thrown around before we ever met The Merchant, Shields pointed out. Furthermore, the only agreement made regarding his activates was that nothing would impede the mission left to us by Inquisitor. That doesn’t necessarily forbid him in interfering with the lives of others.

“True enough,” I conceded, looking over the letter with an intense stare, “and this Auric character sounds interesting. Alchemy? Blade of understanding?

It could just be organic superstition.

“From someone able to send messages throughout the Mulitverse?”

Fair point, Shields said darkly.

“I wonder how many others may be out there?”

Well, if- WARNING! Incoming multiverse disturbance detected.

“Aw, crap. Not this agai-” a rift opened in the air again, this time burying me in an avalanche of knickknacks and memorabilia. When the rift finally closed, I pulled myself from under the pile and took stock of how much came through. There seemed to be enough items to start a curio shop. And every one of them had a magic signature indicating links to another universe.

Based on the evidence before us, I would say that many, Shields said sarcastically.

I ignored his attitude in favor of staring at my new treasure-trove of interdimensional beacons.

“Shields,” I breathed, “do you realize what this means?”

Indeed I do, sir, Shields said grimly, so many displaced in the universe poses a significant liability to our mission and the safety of this universe. I will see to-

“THERE ARE SO MANY PEOPLE I CAN TALK TO NOW!!!”

FOR THE SAKE OF ALL SENTIENCE, WOULD YOU SHUT UP AND THINK THINGS THROUGH FOR A CHANGE!?! I blinked at Shields’ outburst. After taking a moment to collect himself, he started speaking in slow tempo and a tone one might have heard an adult use to a child; a very hyperactive child with the attention span of a gnat and severe brain damage. I realize your old human needs for interaction are still flaring after a very very VERY long time in solitude, but let’s go over all of the facts, shall we? Considering the impact our own intrusion has had on this world, it may not be prudent to introduce more influences from other sections of the multiverse.

He waited for me to nod slowly in acknowledgement before he continued, What’s more, even factoring how erratic humans in general can be, there’s no predicting how each one may have been affect by the artifacts they received from The Merchant. Some, if not all, may well have been driven violently insane by their own journeys and artifacts. And even if only a few are hostile? They could very well still be in conflict with one another; the sort of conflict that tears whole worlds apart.

For both the sake of our mission and the safety of this world, the best thing we can do is focus on using this equation to seal off our section of the multiverse; whether putting this Discord to work, using our own resources, or a combination of the two.

After listening to Shields lay out his points, I nodded sadly and gave the pile of beacons a dejected look. “You’re right, of course, MS,” I sighed. “It’s probably for the best. Afterall it’s the only logical, responsible choice. It only makes sense that we should- YOINK!!!” I yelled out grabbing a random object before Shields could object and reveling at the pull by another universe.

DAMN IT, WHY DID MY CREATOR HAVE TO BE SUCH A GLITCHY BAST-!?

Author's Note

Little bit of foresight to future chapters and an invitation to all of the Displaced out there:pinkiehappy:. Anyone interested in a crossover, just send me a PM:twilightsmile:.

ch 4: Everyone is a Critic

Well, that could have gone better.

As it was, I was left facing an old foe: boredom. Granted, it wasn’t ‘Darkspace’ level boring, but there was only so much one could do here. I started off counting cracks in the walls. I listened to the ambient sounds of the rhythmic water drops and whistling draft. The first eight hours were actually pretty thrilling and had me wishing for a bag of popcorn to enjoy while discovering the new sensations. Sadly, sitting straight through without the luxury of periodic sleep to break things up quickly killed the novelty in the situation.

I stretched my limbs and listened to the popping noises I made before relaxing back into the cot with my hands propped behind my head. I gave a sigh, reveling in the sensation of my chest rising and falling with the exchange of air. It’s funny, how much enjoyment one can derive from rediscovering bodily functions after possessing an empty marauder unit. I probably would’ve tried it sooner if it had ever occurred to think a cybernetic augmented corpse could still feel anything. Then again, I was probably prevented by some vague sense of squeamishness that existed some millennia ago. It’s only too bad that I got over it and made this discovery for no other reason than to ‘cooperate.’

Hey, Jeff. The thoughts skittered across my mind.

Oh, right. Another ray of sunshine I discovered in the moment. I sighed before transmitting an answer through. What is it, Shields?

We are in the dungeons, Jeff.

Yes, Shields. I noticed.

…hey, Jeff?

What is it, Sh- Oh no! Don’t you do it, Shields! Don’t you dare-!

Don’t drop the soap.

DAMN IT, SHIELDS!! My thoughts roared through my cranium in answer. I swear on my processors I will delete your obnoxious programing if you try another stupid crack like that again. You just mark me!

Affirmative, sir, Marauder’s thoughts drifted through dryly, I’ll just add that threat with the other three hundred and twenty-five currently archived, shall I?

I grunted and turned onto my side on the cot. I should’ve known something was off when he started using my name out of nowhere.

Meeting these ponies and scratching that thirty-thousand-year old social itch revealed a little something else. I wasn’t quite as alone as I thought. Apparently, while in the grip of my manic loneliness, I had unconsciously given some of the Reaper ground units a base AI to give them some rudimentary ability to answer back during my babbling. Each one was based on a sliver of my own personality. After a night talking with Shields in my head and sending diagnostics back to my old self, I found out each one had gradually evolved around that simple AI they were given. Where did Marauder’s AI come from? My very own cynicism. Yay.

I had started eavesdropping on the guards to see if they were gossiping about something called ‘Jersey Stallions’ again when my sensors picked up the sound of a new set of hooves approaching my cell door. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was. “Hello, Pinkie. Come to visit the public menace?”

“Hey! Don’t you ‘public menace’ me, mister!” Pinkie admonished in her chipper voice. “I came to see my friend because that’s what we do and don’t you forget it. Besides, if this is about the performance, I think you did just fine! In fact, I’d give it five out of five hooves.” She demonstrated the sentiment with five hooves held in front of the cell door.

I glanced up the display and did a double take. All I could see on the second look though was normal(ish) Pinkie Pie standing there on four hooves. I sent a mental command to an equally shocked Marauder Shields in my subconscious to diagnose our body’s visual input. I rolled my, or Marauder’s, eyes from where I lay on the cot. “Be serious, Pinkie. Good performances get standing ovations not stampedes of screaming terror. If you’re given a room it’s a luxury hotel not a dungeon cell.”

“Well, yeah okay, so there might be a few tiny nuances but…” Pinkie trailed of in thought before an enlightened smile lit her face up and she shot to the guard table and returned holding a packet. “The paper! That’s what we need now”-she pulled the newspaper and starting thumbing(hoofing?) though it -“I’m sure it’ll list a few ponies out there…that…” She trailed off again and her face froze at whatever she found on the page.

I looked up uncertainly from my resting place. “Uh. Pinkie? Is something-?”

“You know what? Papers are boring!” Pinkie yipped as she tossed it to the ground. “There weren’t even any funnies on that edition!”

“Pinkie…”

“Yeah totally boring. I mean cure for the common cold? Psh. Like anypony couldn’t have heard about that in the spa gossip.”

“Pinkie!” I broke in sternly, “the paper if you please.”

“Okay,” her mane deflated a bit as she picked up the paper and passed it to me, “but you shouldn’t believe everything you read.”

With that comforting line ringing through the cell, I sat up in the cot and pulled the paper open to the lines Pinkie had been reading. I blinked in confusion at the listing of injury reports as I thought that I was looking at the coverage for a disaster report before seeing the headline ‘Sponge Bob the Space Opera’ Strikes Terror into the Masses! Well, I suppose it could still be considered a disaster report. If possible, my spirits may have lowered even further as looked on the reviews.

“In all of my years of reporting news, the good and the bad, I could always find solace by watching the majestic scenery of the ocean. Before I saw this play. Never again.” - Fancy Pants, owner of Equestria Weekly

“I once said I would retire when I die. Then I saw this play. It was then I knew that old soldiers never die. They’re eventually traumatized by mind ending plays.”

-General MacHoofer

“Celebrated griffon play critics Seagull and Egret were unavailable for comment as they are still in critical after having tried to bite each other’s ears off during the performance. It is unlikely they will attend any further Jeff the Reaper productions as the doctors have prescribed that they, for the sake of their own health, avoid any further productions. Forever.”

-Canterlot General Hospital

Towards the end of the article, mention was made of official efforts to calm the populace about rumors of the dreaded ‘Death Play’. After Jeff had agreed to wait in the dungeons for a period of time, and after several nobles took time from their personal appointments with mental health physicians, the entire House of Nobles convened with Celestia overseeing. The movement was put forward to ban Jeff from making any future productions. It was noted that this movement was the first to receive unanimous support from the entire assembly for first time in three thousand years since Equestria’s founding. And it only took a total of three minutes deliberation.

Being a hyper advance machine giant I didn’t think there was much left that could overwhelm me. I eventually looked up my internal clock and found that the article had stunned be for a good five minutes.

You know, Harbinger would have been amazed by this. If he knew a play could do this, he might have invested into Broadway instead of bothering with armies or indoctrination.

Shut up, Shields. I thought tiredly. The worst part of that comment was that it seemed to be sincere. Shields might not have been joking at all.

“Wow,” I said after a little more sulking, “I guess those tear ducts are going to get a real work out when I install them.”

“Hey, hey! There’s no need to bring crying ducks into this,” Pinkie squeaked desperately, “I loved your play! There were great moments! Like that moral conundrum with the lead heroine?” I glanced at her in confusion which she took as a sign to continue, “you know, how she slew her dearest friend in an out of control moment of passion only to realize her crime and immortalize her in the most touching way possible: by using her passion of baking to make a culinary masterpiece in her friend’s likeness!”

“That…that wasn’t in the play.”

“Oh. Really? You sure about that?”

“Pinkie, I have a gigantic, hyper advanced computer for a brain. I think I would have remembered putting something like that in my own play.”

“Oh…huh.” Pinkie put a thoughtful hoof to her chin. “Must have had another episode. I should probably check with the doc about that.”

I stared in silence at the little cotton candy pony as she bemusedly thought to herself. Hey, Shields? Does Pinkie scare you sometimes? I thought.

…Yes, sir. Yes she does, came Shields’ small voice.

Oh…good. At least I’m not alone, I thought back.

“Well…Silver lining? I managed to unite an entire government,” I sat there and let the statement hang there before glumly adding, “through their sheer hatred of my play.”

“Not all of us. If you had looked closely at that article you would know I abstained from that session.”

Pinkie and I looked over to see Princess Luna standing at the base of the stairs. Her mane and tail sparkled with constellations and waved about as if in a gentle breeze. She made her way to the cell where Pinkie kneeled and I used Marauder’s body to give a little half bow from where I sat. The cell was actually designed more for smaller ponies so it was kind of hard to do anything else.

“So what brings you here, Princess?” I asked.

“Well, officially, I am here to act as an observer per your sentence of one day in the dungeons and following day of observation from the authorities.” Her horn glowed and the door to my cell screeched open.

I stepped out into the open and stretched out any kinks in the body I may have got during the stay. “So, I united an entire branch of government and get to have a princess for a parole officer? Just call me an overachiever I guess.” I muttered.

“Unofficially,” Luna stressed, “I am here to bring comfort and companionship to a friend. To you two, as with all of my friends, I am Luna. Why, if it helps, you may call me,” she lifted a hoof dramatically into the air and smiled, “your parole officer of friendship!”

The entire dungeon seemed to go silent aside from the drip of water and sound of the draft going through. The silence stretched and Luna’s smile became gradually more forced until she lowered her hoof and murmured embarrassedly, “Well that…may have sounded a bit better in my mind.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Luna. I bring up a lot of stuff that sounded better in my head. Like that play.” I leaned against the stone walls, crossed my arms, and huffed sadly. “Maybe this whole expressing myself thing isn’t for me. Heck, maybe I should just pack up and leave. I mean, I am technically a monster after all. I-”

I was interrupted by a loud smack to the face. Wow, that was really hard. Seriously, I think that slap registered all the way back to my body in Darkspace. Good thing I’m essentially in a rental. Oh, right. Sorry about that Shields.

Kindly go jump in a lake, sir, Shields thought flatly, without my body if you don’t mind.

I turned back to see Luna staring angrily into my eyes. “Don’t,” she whispered angrily, “don’t you dare go that way. Many of my own ponies would see me as a monster. Do you see me running? No. I have my friends. As do you, Jeff. So this attempt did not succeed. What of it? When you make your next play-”

“I’m legally barred from making further plays,” I deadpanned.

“-when you find your next outlet for artistic expression,” Luna corrected, “you will have your friends there to help. Whatever you believe, I don’t see a monster. I see a lonely, old, expressive soul looking for a way to reach others through their art. You will find a way and all of us will be there to help. And I am not just saying that because my dreaming abilities let me blank out choice sections of my memories.”

I looked back into her eyes and sniffed, “Do you- Do you really meant that?”

Luna smiled and nodded gently in answer. I take a deep breath and let it out before going speaking with newfound confidence, “You know what? You’re right! With you two, and any friends I make later, beside me I can do anything! In fact, we have a whole day out there for ourselves! First, I just need to talk to Celestia and”-

“She’s unavailable at the moment.” Luna said quietly.

-“apologize and…ask…Wait, what? Unavailable? Where is she?”

“Well, she- That is to say she, ummm.”

****

Millions of miles away from Equus, the sun that bathed it in light and warmth continued exploding, churning, and blazing as it had for the last billion years or so. The surface broiled with countless explosions that put nuclear warheads to shame and sent flares extending miles to the surface. As one goes further to the center they would find the explosions, heat, and pressure would build to mind boggling proportions.

With all of that in mind, most would be astounded at the fact that a living thing might be resting smack dab in the center. A single white alicorn curled in the fetal position as it was suspended within the heart of the core. Her ears rang at the constant explosions surrounding her. Even so, nothing could seem to drown out the terrible chorus that rang in her own mind.

Are ye ready, kids?

Aye aye, captain!

I can’t heeeaar yoouuu!

“OH, FAUST I WISH I COULDN’T! Make it stop! Make it stop!! MAKE IT STOP!!!”

****

“Sabbatical!” Luna squeaked out. “Yes, she is currently on sabbatical.”

I hummed noncommittally, but shrugged deciding to leave it at that. “Ah well. Then I’ll just need apologize to her for the trouble later. And get you to take care of my little request before we head out. It’s probably best this way.”

“And just what sort of request would that be?” she asked cautiously.

I took the paper, strolled to the guard table, and grabbed the quill and scribbled some on the newspaper. I came back and showed it to Luna. “I need you to go to the records and change the official play name to this.” I gestured to the markings I made.

The paper glowed blue as Luna took it in her magic and looked over it critically. The moment she laid eyes on the marking, her face went blank and she looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You do realize this will offend every noble house in the city, yes?”

“Hey, I can understand shutting the play down if it caused this much trouble,” I raised my/Shields’ finger, “but if they’re going to take away my right to make other plays and improve? I’d say I’m at least owed the last word. Besides, my two forms are a ball of light and a giant robot. What are they going to do? Whine me into oblivion?”

“My sister and I are immortals who move the celestial bodies but that hasn’t stopped them from trying with us.” Luna muttered. “Well, I can certainly say this will certainly give them something to talk about.”

“With that out of the way, let’s head out. I just need to make a few adjustments to make to this body so we’ll have to make a quick stop to my bigger body to pick up some things. After that, I say we have some fun and-”

*cough*

I looked to the source of the delicate cough and saw Luna was squirming nervously as she fidgeted with the paper twisted in her hoof. “Oh, crap there’s more isn’t there?”

She nodded and pulled a box from…somewhere. She- she wasn’t wearing a bag or anything! Eh, must be one of those magic things I need to figure out later. The box was set down before me and she looked back at me nervously, “After the performance, there was an impact just outside of the Canterlot city limits. We found this in the crater.”

I looked down at the box as someone else might have looked at a poisonous snake. “Both of you stand back. Luna, put a shield up around you two. There’s no telling where this came from or what it might do.”

They both nodded and did as I told. When I believed they were a safe enough distance away I knelt and removed the top. What I found left me gaping, “I. Don’t. Believe it.”

“Oh! What is it? What is it? I love surprises!” Pinkie declared as she bounced up and down excitedly.

What I pulled from the box was a computer. And not just any computer. It was one in the shape of a book. The front cover was covered by two words: Don’t Panic.

“What is it?” Luna asked hesitantly.

“It’s…well, for lack of a better description, it’s like a travel guide but covers the whole galaxy instead of just a city.” Luna and Pinkie stared at the object in awe at the explanation. “What I don’t understand is why anyone would send a copy here. This world hasn’t discovered viable space travel yet so why-!” I noticed a letter dropped to the ground. I picked it up and opened it to find the following message.

Dear Jeff (a.k.a. Giant, scary robot oh god please don’t eat or step on us),

We would like to congratulate you on making a new entry in the newest edition of our distinguished guide. In celebration of this fact, we have sent you a complimentary first print of the new edition. Your newest play project has tied in for second place with Grunthos the Flatulent’s Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning. Once again, congratulations on the achievement.

Yours Cordially,
Chief Editor of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Here’s to over achieving, sir, Shields snarked from in my head.

I stared at it for a few moments before listlessly passing the letter to Luna and Pinkie as I started pacing. They both looked at it in confusion before Luna looked back to Jeff and asked hesitantly, “Jeff? What does this mean?”

I stopped pacing and looked back at them. “It means I reeeaally need a good pick me up right about now.” I flared Shield’s mandibles in the closest approximation of an evil smirk as I could. “And I know just where to get it.”

****

Ponyville market was crowded with ponies as it often is during the noon. Ponies behind stalls were hawking their wares as the plaza was dotted with shoppers and business ponies alike.

“Get yer apples here. Fresh apples, right off the branch. Apples here! Apples!” Applejack conducted her business like the other stall vendors, much as she did every other day. She was completely unaware of the scheming glare targeted at her from six houses back.

Rainbow Dash peeked around the corner and smirked to herself as she went over all the possible pranks she could pull. “I might not try anything against that creepy robot thing, but your still fair game for a prank war, AJ. ‘Specially after those little smart-alecky comments earlier. I wonder if Pinkie’s up for some good gags?”

She turned around and abruptly mashed her muzzle into some surface. “What the hay!?” Rainbow looked up as she rubbed her nose and jumped when she saw the bipedal figure before her. “Gah! Don’t do that!” she mumbled a bit about somepony needing to put a bell on him before looking into its face with a sour expression. “So what is it? I’m guessing you have some reason to be here.”

The figure said nothing and stared at her with those creepy reflective eyes.

Rainbow repressed a shiver. This thing might creep her out but she wasn’t going to let it know that. “Oookay. Stand around here all you want, but I’ve got business to take care of.”
She tried to step around him but the biped sidestepped to block her. “Hey! What are you-!?” she tried to step around the other side only to be blocked a second time. “Hey! Cut it out! Let me by!”

“I’m sorry, Dash. I can’t do that.”

“Oh yeah?!” Rainbow flapped her wings so she could hover to the creature’s eye level. “Well, if ‘you can’t do that’ then how about telling me just what the hay you want!?”

In answer, the thing put its claws to its sternum…and pulled its chest plates open like a couple of cabinet doors. Rainbow Dash’s jaw dropped at what she saw inside. The chest cavity held something resembling a chimp’s face surrounded by eight spindly spider legs. She watched in horror as those legs extended toward her and the face spoke. “You haz space babies now?”

“OH, SALTY H CELESTIA NO!!” Rainbow screeched and bolted away in record time. She was halfway to Cloudsdale before a certain pink pony, a princess and a holosphere even started laughing.

After a few minutes of laughing the holosphere stopped abruptly as he remembered something and turned to glare at Princess Luna suspiciously, “Hang on. What was that earlier about blanking choice sections of your memories?”

****

During following morning, the day court was crowded with petitioners. Most of them were nobles. That wasn’t so odd as they came to bring a host of petty complaints and demands. What made today so different was the haggard appearance the normally pristine nobles sported. Manes were disheveled, bags were beneath many an eye, and every eye was bloodshot though a combination of stress and anger. Another difference was the fact that all the nobles had put aside their normal complaints for one shared annoyance.

“Princess, this is an insult to our honor! The noble families demand restitution we-”

Celestia tuned out the plaintiff’s complaints. She wasn’t worried she would miss anything as this was the twelfth noble to come to her with the same complaint after the morning edition of Equestria Weekly announced the name change for the ‘Death Play.’ It was unlikely he would be the last.

Using her magic, she pulled a copy of said paper so she could look at the name that had aroused the ire of so many groups. Her face remained passive as usual but she mentally smirked at it. It was probably some alien joke but, she had to admit, the name made for a nice little tweak on the nose. By royal approval, no less. Celestia might well have commended Jeff for the little quip if it weren’t for the fact that she was left dealing with the political fallout. Or the fact that the abominable play was still going on through her own head. She made a mental note to visit Luna and see if she could use her dream skills to do something.

Celestia dropped the paper nearby and went back to listening to the noble’s inane bickering which would likely be followed by more inane bickering the rest of the day. The revealed page shown the new name for the play that would be talked about with many a shutter for decades to come. For every time the name would be mentioned in coming years, every noble would scowl and every common pony would snigger. It was the name of a play that would live in infamy in the annals of Equestrian history.

The Aristocrats

Author's Note

And a new chapter is up:pinkiehappy:! Hope you enjoy!

As always, comments and suggestions appreciated:twilightsmile:.

Ch 5: Testing the waters and trying new things

The sun had just risen over Canterlot and the time approached for the throne room to flood with petitions and usual petty complaints from nobles and business moguls. For the first time in centuries, however, the chamber was nearly empty aside from two beings: Celestia and Jeff’s holosphere.

After dealing with the aftermath of the play, as well as some minor panic near Cloudsdale involving cries of ‘space babies’ of all things, Celestia had made the decision to clear the entire day for the purpose of walking Jeff through some ground rules as well as terms for his citizenship. The nobles balked at being asked to wait of course. They did at least, until Celestia mentioned Jeff being the subject matter. And perhaps after humming part of the intro tune from his infamous play. At the first few notes, everypony seemed to turn green and quickly remembered some other tasks they had to do that day before leaving as quickly as their dignity would allow.

If not for having to remember the ordeal or the risk of looking the tyrant, Celestia might have been tempted to abuse this little trick.

So only for special occasions then, she thought dryly before focusing on the matter at hoof. Jeff’s holosphere bounced with barely contained enthusiasm as Celestia pulled open a large stack of papers between them. “Now, Jeff. I realize you may be excited to learn more about the world but we have set some rules down for this unique little first contact. Afterward, I plan to schedule a day of activities with our elements of harmony as your guides and-”

“Already in progress!”

Celestia looked at Jeff with a raised eyebrow. “Come again?”

“Ah, right. Hadn’t brought it up yet. Well, you see, with all the,” Jeff hesitated, perhaps in a show of guilt, “ruckus caused by my play I wanted to do a little something to take the stress off. So I glanced through the itinerary, noticed the activity day and set it up so we could get through this a little faster. While we do paper work here, I’m also going on tour with all of the other girls right now. All of them at the same time.”

“I’m sorry but that doesn’t seem possible. Nopon-er one can be in two places at once,” Celestia said partially for logic and partially out of nervousness at the idea of Jeff being able to do such a thing.

“Actually, I can. You know how you can only shove so much mass in one space before there’s just too much to take up the same area?” he waited long enough for Celestia to give an uncertain nod before he continued. “Well, you run into a similar problem with data. This holosphere represents a tiny tiiiiny portion of the data that makes up my mind that resides in tall dark and chromey. The rest of my mind is actually in sort of a standby mode while the little bit of information needed for this holosphere streams through. I’m not just limited to one tiny stream though. I can actually have several streams forming into other spheres with each one sharing new info with each other simultaneously. In this way I can be in two places at once. Or three. Or four. Or seven hundred and ninety five.” After a moment of silence, Jeff noticed the Princess staring blankly at him and seemed to take it as a sign of disbelief. “What? Don’t think I can? Sure I can! Here, just give me a minute to boot things up and I can have all of those loveable little versions of me show up right here and now.”

“NO!!!” Silence followed the panicked negative before Celestia gave a delicate clearing of her throat and continued more calmly. “I mean no thank you, Jeff. I am more than willing to take you at your word.”

“You sure? Really, it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“Yes,” Celestia said quickly, “yes I am quite sure. By the way-” she looked back and forth around the throne room “-where is your assistant, Marauder?”

“Well, I figured I would put him to good use and had him start up a yoga class at Ponyville city hall.”

“….yoga?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s this special series of low impact stretching exercises that-”

“No no. I had a fair idea of what you were talking about as the Neighponese invented something similar.” She did her best to ignore the bout of giggling from the sphere when she mentioned the word ‘Neighponese.’ “It is simply that I didn’t imagine your associate to be the type for that work.”

“Oh, sure, there were a few adjustments we had to make with the whole anatomical differences thing. However, I can say he’s actually pulling off a fairly smooth class as we speak.”

****

The Ponyville city hall sported an odd banner over the front door claiming to offer ‘gain spiritual enlightenment and find cosmic balance while losing those stubborn love handles.’ Just inside, Shields was busy demonstrating various poses while a crowd of visitors looked on and copied his movements on their own mats. There were young and old, stallions and mares. There were even a few other species in the mix.

“Now everyone, yes everyone Miss Carrot Top we have more than ponies here,” Marauder snapped at a sniggering orange pony who coughed into a hoof to avoid his annoyed glare, “we will continue our routine with downward dog.”

A growl came from the back of the room and Marauder rolled his eyes, “Yes, Miss, that’s the name it had when the style was invented. I’m not changing it. Suck it up.” The diamond dog in the back room gave an annoyed huff but left it at that and the class continued. “Alright, next it’s upward dog reaching for the sun.” He curved up and waited for the rest of the class to mimic him before continuing. “And now, dog grasps the sun and brings it crashing down on the other dogs that foolishly trusted him.” Everyone stared at their alien instructor nervously. Shields let the silence drag a bit before putting them at ease. “That was a joke.”

A series of nervous laughs and forced smiles followed the statement before they went on with the class. Perhaps it was a malfunction with his optics but Shields could almost swear he saw his students excreting a bit more sweat than the exercises warranted. Ah, it’s the simple pleasures that make my existence a little more bearable.

****

Celestia was beginning to develop a serious migraine. It wasn’t that Jeff was acting petulant and obnoxious as the nobles she typically dealt with. Rather, it was his numerous eccentricities and complete lack of common sense that she bashed her head against as she tried to walk him through what should be considered basic etiquette. She did her best, truly she did, to be patient with him as her attempts to aid Luna after her exile often came to mind. Still, even the motherly Solar Princess had her limits.

“Now, you are absolutely sure you understand this point, Jeff?” she asked tiredly. “I want you to tell me now so that I know we can move on to the next item without you forgetting.”

“Yes, Princess! Absolutely positutely.” Jeff’s sphere nodded briskly. “There will be no, count ‘em, no experimentation on ponies in any way, form, or fashion.”

“And can you tell me why this is so important?”

“Because it’s socially frowned upon and makes for really awkward small talk at dinner parties.”

Celestia stared blankly at the oblivious ball of light before sighing and turning the page in the documents. “We will…get back to the specifics of that tenant at a later date. Just remember: experimenting on ponies bad.”

“Yes, Mam! Absolutely! You got it! No experiments at all!” Jeff abruptly cut off from his assurances to glance hesitantly to the side before looking back again and calmly state, “Starting right now.”

****

(A few minutes prior)

The city of Cloudsdale was moving along with its usual hustle and bustle. The weather factory churned out clouds for various weather across Equestria, the stadium was preparing for coming events, and the Wonderbolts were making a snap inspection of the local pegasi division. It was busy but orderly. That is, it was until two streaks, one rainbow colored and one orange, shot through the city and forced several ponies into dodging. The streaks moved too quickly for anypony to hear more than a few snippets of words but a conversation occurred between the two that would have sounded similar to the following.

“Ah, come on, Dahsie!! Please!” the orange streak implored, “I just want to learn about how pegasi weather magic works! I give you my word I won’t do anything that will *mumble* permanently *mumble* maim you!”

“Back off, Doctor Maneroe!!” Dash shrieked as she desperately pushed herself to go faster. “I ain’t putting myself under some mad scientist scalpels!!”

“Aww, don’t be like that! Scalpels are fun!! Didn’t you ever play operation? Like that but way cooler and more authentic.”

“NO!” the cyan mare barked. She continued to bank, twist, and dodge using every trick in her arsenal to shake the sphere but failed. She might have grudging admired how effortlessly he kept up if not for the fact that she might end up on an operating table.

“Pretty pleeease? There’ll be probes! You like probes right? Of course you do! They’re awesome!! We can even slow dance afterward!”

“In Tartarus does that even mean!?! JUST BACK OFF WEIRDO!!!”

The two streaks shot off across the sky bickering until this sphere eventually updated on the whole no experimentation thing.

****

Deep within the heart of darkspace, Jeff’s interior bustled with activity as it hadn’t in millennia. Well, there were other times, but usually for ridiculous productions staged out of boredom rather than anything useful.

Jeff’s discussion with Celestia back in Equestria eventually brought up several facts about him as they were discussing the possible applications he could have for aiding the country. One was the group of beings shambling around his interior. Of course, he failed to mention that they were basically mutilated abominations. Seriously, what country would want mobs of creatures from a horror flick doing community service or defense? To the end of making them more ‘user friendly,’ Jeff was using the old files he found of Inquisitor’s to make some aesthetic touch ups on the husks. He might even try with a few banshees or brutes but, thus far, the husks proved the easiest to work with. The inhabitants continued with what Jeff affectionately called ‘Operation PR’ while ignoring the announcement that went out through the system.

Attention. Incoming query from Jeff sphere 03. Minor drops in reaction may occur as allotted memory is drawn to process request. Continue your assigned tasks.

The Reaper ground units did as they were told and continued despite some slight twitches one two of them seemed to have develop. After a few seconds, however, everything stopped. Minions of every form froze in place. Hums from some systems cut off as if paused.

Then pandemonium broke out across the Reaper. Red emergency lights flashed everywhere and alarms screeched. Every minion started screaming and running around the halls. Some simply fell where they were and started twitching.

A voice spoke over the sound of alarms and screaming Reaper forces. Despite its monotone it seemed to carry a level of distress in its next announcement. Attention! Jeff has encountered a fatal error. Jeff will now shut down to prevent permanent damage.

At the end of that announcement, all lights and sound cut out. Loud grinding resounded as massive machinery came to a halt and clangs could be heard across the Reaper as ground forces hit the ground as they collapsed wherever they stood at the time. For ten minutes, silence stretched across the Reaper. Eventually lights came back on, ground units stood, and a tune sounded throughout the halls that, had he remembered, Jeff would’ve identified as the Windows jingle.

****

What the heck just happened?
Eh? What do you mean?
One minute I was teaching yoga students fearing for their lives and the next I’m waking up on the ground surrounded by them. They said I just fell down and wouldn’t respond for ten minutes. Shields paused a moment before continuing worriedly, Also my diagnostics are describing symptoms similar to a stroke. As bad a sign as that is for organics I’m pretty sure it’s worse for a machine to exhibit those symptoms. Also, I think Twilight is trying to talk to you.

I looked around and, sure enough, Twilight stood there watching me worriedly as she was flanked by an equally worried Spike, Applejack and Pinkie Pie. “Umm, Jeff? Are you okay?” Twilight asked.

“Oh sure hang on a sec though. I gotta check something.” I pulled up my own diagnostics and checked the data. “Huh. That’s odd. Memory is showing we came together about something. And then it’s now. And the time clock is showing a complete blank on anything that occurred within the ten minutes between those moments.”

The three ponies and dragon looked at each other nervously before Twilight turned back to Jeff. “Could I ask you a question about machines?”

“Absolutely! Ask away.” I said eager to answer any questions I could for my new friends.

“If a machine were to, I don’t know,” Twilight hesitantly as she looked around at anything but me, “indicate something about a ‘fatal error’ then shut down, what would that mean?”

“Hmmm” I thought about it for a moment. It seems like something about the question should have set off some alarms but for some reason my thought processes seemed a bit more sluggish. “It sounds like you are describing a total operating system crash. Kind of the machine equivalent of a nervous breakdown. It usually happens when it comes across information, a process, or requests that overtasks its memory and/or disrupts its logic. Hey are you four okay? You’re looking a little green.” The four friends just shook their heads mutely. “Oh I get it! You’re worried about me breaking down or something? Don’t be. I’ve got enough data in my head to cover several cultures and millennia worth of events and still have room to keep track of events across this world without breaking a sweat.” Strangely, instead of comforting them, the three ponies and dragon only seemed more disturbed by my assurances. Odd.

Trying to lighten the tension, I looked around for something and noticed some papers on the ground. “Hallo. What’s this?” A trickle of energy was converted from the hologram to form a strand of biotic energy that picked up the paper and lifted it to my optic disk. It listed a number of events, statistics, as well as what seemed to be hair and other material samples. All of this was headed at the top of the page by a question. “‘How does Pinkie Pie work?’ Huh. That’s actually an interesting question. You know what? Give me a moment to copy this data and I can probably send it back to my main body for an analysis.”

“NOOO!”

I dropped the paper out of surprise from the panicked yell that the three mares and the little baby dragon gave me. After a moment, Twilight cleared her throat and haltingly explained. “I, that is to say, we are very grateful for the offer, Jeff. But it is just that…uh,” Twilight glanced back and forth between Applejack and Pinkie before continuing, “I would like to stick to traditional methods so I can learn more from the experience. ‘It’s the journey not the destination’ and all that, right?” She laughed nervously with a hoof behind her head.

“Uhhh. Sure?” I wonder what’s bothering her?

Something tells me we’re both better off not knowing, Shields thought back.

I was considering asking anyway when my thoughts were interrupted as Pinkie Pie’s whole body started vibrating in place.

“Oh no! What does that one mean?” Spike asked nervously.

“Don’t know. I’ve never gotten any like it before,” Pinkie said as she shook her head worriedly, “but whatever that shutter’s about, it’s a doozy. Something you never expect is gonna happen.” Pinkie vibrated again and added more, “And it’s gonna happen at Froggy Bottom Bog!”

Applejack let out a horrified gasp. “Tha’s where Fluttershy’s headed!”

“Oh no!” Spike said from beside Twilight, “is it about her?!”

Pinkie considered with worried eyes before admitting, “I’m not sure.”

“We’d better make sure tha’ she’s okay!” the cowpony stormed off with Pinkie behind her before either Twilight or I could get a word in.

“Oh, come one everypony! All we know is that Pinkie got a case of the shivers!” She shot off after her friends with me hovering beside her.

“Well, whatever the case, it can’t hurt for us to come along, right?” I reasoned.

I will rendezvous with you at the bog, Shields projected urgently.

Oh, come one MS!, I thought projecting my will with enough meaning to simulate the sorely missed eyeroll my holosphere couldn’t copy, We’re going to a giant puddle named after a group of small amphibians that live along its base. How bad could it be?

****

“Well…that was bad.”

Marauder and Twilight nodded tiredly in agreement with me from their barstools. Pinkie Pie just continued nodding cheerfully as she had been for the last hour while she sipped from her fourth strawberry daiquiri. I should be surprised that she shows no reaction to the amount of alcohol, but every time I try to think hard about it my thoughts slip to something else after a red warning message saying ‘Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie. Abort further inquiries.’ The four of us sat alone in the little bar as AJ had taken Spike back to the library on her way back to the farm and Fluttershy had headed back to her cottage for some much needed relaxation.

The evening had been filled with all sorts of bizarre twists and revelations: all knowing spasms, rampaging hydras, and near death by rapidash(the last me and MS firmly kept to ourselves out of self-preservation even as Twilight noted our occasional sniggering with a confused glance). Yet, the big revelation that threw me for a loop was finding a bar in Ponyville. Perhaps even more was how, for lack of a better term, bar-ish it was. It could have been one seen anywhere off world minus the pastel ponies.

The outside seemed much like any other building aside from the oak front door with the bar name Whinnies in gold font over the doorframe. The inside was soothing, if a bit somber by Ponyville standards, and the furniture and flooring was constructed from fine polished mahogany wood. My friends and I were situated at the U-shaped bar counter where glasses hung overhead and the barkeep worked from behind. He was a pegasus stallion by the name of Swift Punch who, if rumors were to be believed, used to be a big shot with the Wonderbolts before some accident had grounded him. Now he just worked the bar he owned with his wife, an earthpony mare by the name of Berry Punch. The strangest thing about it was how familiar it seemed to me. I also thought I might have heard some nostalgic piano music as we walked through the door despite the lack of the instrument in the bar.

“Well, it could have been much worse,” Twilight looked over at me and smiled, “there’s no telling what might have happened if you hadn’t been there with your quick thinking.”

“Aw, come on Twilight, I’d be blushing right now if I had a physical body,” I said modestly.

A blown raspberry drew an annoyed glance from me to Marauder on my left. Not to mention I was boggled by the fact he did one when I know he didn’t have the right tools or sound bites he needed to pull it off. “I still don’t get how the lot of you can shrug off how he pulled it off by turning himself into a strobe light and giving it seizures.”

Pinkie shrugged from her spot at the bar. “Well, it might’ve been a little mean, but it’s still alive though and we got away.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” Marauder waved dismissively. “I mean the fact that only one head ended up with the seizures. There might have been multiple heads but they are still one organism made from the same embryo, right? It being one forth epileptic is like saying someone is dyslexic in one eye! THAT’S JUST NOT HOW IT WORKS!!” The last was screeched as he gestured with his right hand holding his beer bottle while waving wildly in the air with his left.

“Buddy. You need to chill out.” I floated closer and sent him an electric signal that served as an equivalent to a comforting hand on the shoulder. “We are a giant space robot that landed in a magical land of talking pastel equines. I’m pretty sure logic stormed out the door with an emphatic ‘I hate you all’ a long time ago.”

“Hey, hey! Don’t be so hard on the guy!” Pinkie piped up. “He’s good people. He just gets a little grumpy whenever I defy physics or break the fourth wall one-too-many times.”

Me, Marauder, Twilight, and Swift the bartender stared at Pinkie with a blank stare before going back to what we were doing as if nothing happened. I turned back to Marauder “The point is you can’t keep freaking out about the little things or you’ll fry your processors.”

Shields just grunted and took a swig from his bottle before setting it down and belching a small gout of flame. The first time this happened had spooked everypony but they learned to ignore it as the barkeep did now aside from a rolling of his eyes.

Not for the first time that night, Twilight looked at Marauder with a puzzled frown. “What is that about anyway? It’s nothing like when Spike breaths fire.”

“Oh well, without being in constant contact with my main body, Marauder requires an alternate fuel source to keep him going,” I explained matter-of-factly, “he’s using a new alcohol-based reaction I put in place of his original system. A little something of my own invention.”

Bullcrap. You stole the idea from somewhere else. Marauder accused silently.

Oh yeah? Prove it.

I would, but every search I make on the subject is getting actively blocked by your authorization. I’d say that fact itself was pretty condemning.

I would’ve came up with concrete evidence (really! I just needed time to fabricate it!) before Twilight broke in with a question. “If this is the new system, then what was the old one?”

“I used to convert living org- ach!!” Marauder tried to catch himself but he had said too much. Twilight looked with a raised eyebrow, Pinkie with eager wide eyes, and Swift with a moderately less bored expression.

Darn it, Shields! Look what you’ve done! I mentally yelled. Just what do you think they’re going to say when we mention we converted living organics for raw materials!?!

Well excuuuuse me! Shields snarked back, I guess after all of the stupidity you’ve been hoarding I had to take some for myself to prevent a monopoly!

Bah! There’s nothing for it. I’ll just have to make up something. “Yes, you see, he used to have to convert living…um. Organs of pipes. Or, to be more grammatically accurate, living pipe organs.”

What little activity there had been in the bar seemed to have stilled. “Living…pipe organs?” Twilight asked dully.

“Er, yes! I mean, not at first. At first we just went into buildings with regular pipe organs. You know, musical with keyboards that we would grind up and use em for minerals. Then we made a terrifying discovery in our space travels,” I looked down and put as much ‘pained’ inflection as I could in my next few words, “we stranded ourselves on a planet where living pipe organs were the dominant species. Yup, it was a dark time where poor Marauder had to starve and fight his instincts until we finally came up with this new alternative.”

If possible, the entire bar seemed to have gone even quieter. Twilight and Swift looked at me with frankly disbelieving stares. That has to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard, Marauder projected in a shocked tone, and that’s coming from someone who lived in your head for the past thirty thousand years!

Well I didn’t hear you coming up with anything!

Sadly, Marauder seemed to be proven right as Twilight looked ready to call me on my bullcrap…when she was interrupted by a sniffle. Everyone in the bar looked toward the sound to find Pinkie Pie in tears. “Oh, Marauder Shields you poor thing.”

Before anyone could react, Pinkie catapulted herself toward Marauder and clamped around him in a massive hug. “OH MARAUDER SHIELDS!! WHY MUST BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PONIES!?!”

“I’m not a pony,” Marauder corrected flatly.

“NUAAAAANCE! WAH HA HA HAAA!!” Tears flowed, yes flowed, out of Pinkie’s eyes in thick streams as she continued to speak comfort to Marauder who took it stoically. Twilight face hoofed and Swift snorted while shaking his head as he went back to work. I sighed internally as they let the subject drop. Well, that’s one bullet dodged, I thought, now for whatever is left at the castle.

****

Celestia had never been more thankful to come to the close of a day. After some odd incident where Jeff disappeared for ten minutes they burned the remaining daylight on various legal issues and questions. First there was citizenship paper work. No, he couldn’t legally change his name to Gidra the Killer Robot. They were supposed to be preventing the kind of panic that would start. No, his large body couldn’t just stroll through town as the zoning laws had nothing to account for his scale. No, she wasn’t calling him fat, he just had a big support structure. No, he couldn’t use his death laser to carve ‘Jeff was here’ on the moon. That would be vandalism of government property. Even if Luna did sound strangely taken with the idea when she visited earlier(probably had to do with her suggestion of changing it to ‘Her Royal Cakebutt demands your pastries’).

Things were winding down as Celestia explained, for the fifth time, why the ban on Jeff productions couldn’t be lifted. She was in the middle of providing legal precedents and psych evals that supported the decision when the doors were flung open by a panicked guard. “Princess!!”

Oh, thank Faust for an excuse to end this. At this point I might not even care what it is. Outwardly, Celestia kept her professional demeanor. “Yes my little pony? What is the matter?”

“There’s been an escape from Tartarus! It’s,” the guard shuddered in dread, “Maredusa!”

The whispered name caused Celestia’s blood to run cold and she felt shame at her earlier thought. Maredusa. One of the worst fanatics from the ancient times when the world roiled in turmoil at the whim of primal elder gods: creatures that far surpassed Discord in power and cruelty. Maredusa had been one of those terrible few that twisted themselves in order to extend their lives through dark magic and spread the message of their old masters by sowing carnage and suffering.

Even hearing her name brought Celestia memories of terrible scenes of cruelty left in the monster’s wake: villages blown apart, foals shrieking alone in the dark, families mourning over piles of shattered statues that had once been loved ones. Maredusa had been one of those rare cases where the Sun Princess could find no trace of mercy within herself, simply choosing to fling the vile creature into the gates of Tartarus.

Her eyes hardened enough to startle the guard before her. “Send for the Tartarus Brigade! I want that monster hunted down and slung back into the pit where she belongs!”

“Already here your Majesty.” All eyes drew to the doorway where a brawny minotaur wearing black plate armor strode in. He slammed his left hand to his chest and bowed. “Captain Steelhoof at your service, Princess.”

“I..thank you for your timely arrival,” Celestia looked down at the captain in confusion before going on, “but just how did you come so quickly when news of the escape just arrived?”

“That’s just it your Majesty. This isn’t news of escape from Tartarus. That had happened earlier and we hadn’t reported it as she was quickly apprehended. This news is of how she escaped our custody.”

“Explain,” the Princess demanded sternly.

Steelhoof’s face twisted in shame. “Half way to the gates, two strange and yelling streaks of light shot through from the sky. I can only assume they were some contingency set in place by the witch as the resulting chaos allowed her to recover some of her power and escape. That doesn’t excuse our failure. Please allow me to take responsibility for this debacle, Princess.”

“Don’t bother Captain,” Celestia said while waving a dismissive hoof. “I’m sure you did everything you could. This prisoner is ancient, cunning, and mad. There’s no accounting for what she might be capable of.” –the ponies and minotaur were too distracted by the dire events to notice a slight cringe of guilt from the holosphere- “What matters now is that we find her as quickly as possible.”
“That was the next part of the news, Princess,” the Guard spoke up urgently. “She is hold up in the Canterlot Museum holding several dozen hostages and demanding the appearance of the one responsible for her capture.”

Celestia flinched at the situation. It had been a long time since the possibility of having to give one life to save others. She turned resolutely to Steelhoof. “Captain, I realize you may still blame yourself for her escape. Know, however, that I will not have you throw your life away. We will find a way to solve this and-”

“We didn’t catch her your Majesty,” Steelhoof broke in sheepishly, “we were called in to transport her after she was captured.”

Celestia blinked in confusion before turning back to the guard. “Then who?”

“Princess, Maredusa is calling for the appearance of, and I’m quoting her on this, ‘my arch nemesis Jeff the Reaper.’”

“….Oh. My. Gosh.”

Celestia nodded in agreement with Jeff’s comment. “Indeed. I’m sure there is no way she could have met you before. How is it then that-”

“I HAVE AN ARCH NEMESIS!! WOO HOO! HOW COOL IS THAT! I-eh,” Jeff spluttered out as he noticed all of the glares in the room pointed his way. “Umm. Not cool at allll. Nope. No way. Oh nooo’s bad mare on the loose.” He looked down and let the awkward silence drug on a bit before turning back to Celestia. “Incidentally, how many of your national heroes got their own comic deal?”

Neither the guards in the room nor Steelhoof could see any change in Celestia’s mask of serenity. In fact, if Jeff didn’t have his own microscopic lenses he might not have noticed Celestia’s left eye twitch that one eighth of a millimeter.

Author's Note

And next chapter. Comment and feedback appreciated of course.

Poor Jeff. Tries so hard yet fails even harder.

Marauder...needs a healthier hobby. Healthier for everyone else's sake of naturally.

Now how many will catch this chapter's references I wonder? Virtual handshake to any that get them:twistnerd:.

Ch 6: Troll Hard

The atmosphere was unusually dire compared to most of my stay thus far. A crowd of worried ponies, some of them friends and family to the hostages, gathered at the perimeter line around the streets in front of the museum held by members of the royal guard. Within that perimeter, soldiers and rescue crews waited on standby around a command tent set up thirty feet (hooves?) away from the museum stairs; the closest the Princesses were willing to set up near the site without risk of antagonizing Maredusa.

Inside the tent stood an impromptu strategy desk surrounded by the Princesses, several commanders, a few city officials, Captain Steelhoof and myself. The group wore grim expressions and even I couldn’t bring myself to joke about anything. On the off chance that the situation required immediate action, I elected to control Marauder’s body while he took a back seat in the unit’s skull in an advisory position.

Well, isn’t that just such an official sounding way of saying you jacked my bod and left me to play cheerleader? Marauder projected sarcastically.

I ignored his whining and turned to the rest of the table, “So, can anybo-er-pony tell me what this Maredusa chick’s deal is?”

“Sir!” an armored zebra from Steelhoof’s Tartarus Brigade sounded off. “During the early rein of the Tyrant Primal Gods, there existed several Priesthoods dedicated to them. They carried out various duties depending on which deities they served: dark rituals, gladiatorial combat or,” the soldier’s face turned a little green as she whispered, “foal sacrifices.”

Eesh. Sounds like happy ponyland wasn’t always so happy.

Is it really that surprising? If you think back on it, there were a lot of ‘civilized’ cultures throughout our old galaxy that started off rough before they became the advanced beings they were. And they didn’t even have the excuse of actual gods, assuming that’s what these Primal creatures were, breathing down their necks. It took millennia of blood, sweat, and trial and error before they made it to their utopian status.

And then we showed up and blew ‘em up, I thought glumly.

Yeah. Good times good times, Marauder thought with a feigned wistful sigh.

Before I could growl an answer back, the soldier picked up her narrative, “They terrorized most of the known world during what historians call Blood Era before the Divine Council, including our own Princesses and the then sane-ish Discord, drove the Primals into Tartarus. With their masters gone, the Priesthood’s days were numbered and they devolved into minor cults consisting of the former Priests and more fanatical followers. They were quickly hunted down or driven into seclusion where their culture eventually faded away, but not before they committed several atrocities. In time, only the leaders remained and they were the worst of the worst. Many of them had been so vile that it was deemed they be sent to join their masters in Tartarus. Maredusa had been one of those. She started out as priestess and, when the rest of her followers died out, resorted to black magics to extended her life and augment her existing powers. She was considered one of worst, if not the worst, monsters of the old cults. It was even said that the reason her followers died out wasn’t from being hunted down but from being sacrificed in a ritual to grant her the power she has now.”

“Well, thank you so much for that spine tingling exposition Night Shyamalan, but that’s not what I asked,” I replied dryly. “None of that explains why this Maredusa thinks she has a score to settle with me.”

The zebra gave me an unamused glare. “My name is Night Shaman, sir. Although,” Night put a hoof to her chin and hummed thoughtfully. Unaware of my shock, she muttered softly “That does sound like it could make for an interesting story premise. I’ll have to work on it during my next shore leave.”

Oh no. What horror have I unleashed on this land of innocence?

Wait, which one are we talking about? Releasing an ancient psycho serial killer from the underworld? Or do you mean inspiring a storyteller to write a possible blockbuster that will lure an unsuspecting public into a resource wasting series of gradually worsening productions and failed potential?

Uh? Maybe both?

Well, just remember to keep your priorities straight, Jeff, Marauder assured silently. First we stop the writer and then we kill the psycho.

Wouldn’t those priorities be considered backwards?

Ugh. Fine! Marauder grudgingly conceded, First we stop the psycho and then we kill the writer. Happy?!

Ummm.

Hey! After everything you have put me through I need to kill something right now. It would be problem solving and therapeutic.

We’re…really going to have to talk about your problem solving methods after this.

I turned my attention back to Shaman who went from contemplative to hesitant as she resumed her explanation. “One of Maredusa’s crimes, or ‘dedications to the Old Masters’ as she would say, would be to sneak into a high traffic area. At a critical moment, she reveal herself and initiate a curse via her gaze to petrify the crowd. While the Princesses could lift the curse themselves, they would often find that several of the statues would be smashed: parents to foals or vice versa, one of two lovers, anything that caused the most pain to the survivors. We had caught her earlier after a failed attempt to do so as an announcement to Equestria of her return.”

Still think my problem solving needs discussed?

I ignored Marauder’s little insertion, though I would be lying if I said I didn’t share the sentiment, and focused my attention on Shaman. “I’ll agree she’s a piece of work and it’s good that she was stopped, but I still don’t see where I come in.”

“Ah, yes. At to that, well,” Shaman cleared her throat which seemed to have suddenly dried out. “Her target this time was to be a setting with several high-profile targets. The…the Canterlot Royal Playhouse.”

All activity in the tent seemed to freeze and every face went blank. “I see,” was all I could say at first. I don’t like where this is going. “And exactly how was she found?”

“We found her petrified in the front row shortly after the Playhouse had been…hastily vacated. Apparently, when she neared the point of casting her curse, a traumatic event created an emotional backlash that in turn caused the attack to backfire onto herself. Her face was pretty much twisted in horror while facing…the, um…stage.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The action itself might have been a bit redundant as I don’t technically need air anymore but going through the motions seems to help. A little bit. “So, let me see if I understand,” I said levelly as I tried to remain calm. “Maredusa went to see my play and it was so awful that she turned to stone from gazing at it?”

“Well, sir, to be accurate. Umm. That is to say,” Shaman looked nervously back and forth within the tent as if hoping to find a quick escape from the current conversation. Finding none, she turned back toward me with all the eagerness of a prisoner waiting to see if they were about to be walking up the gallows. “Yes?”

Royal guards and Tartarus Brigade members alike struggled to keep their faces blank. Celetia did an admirable job of maintaining her trademark poker face aside from a very brief quirk that tugged at the corner of her lips. Luna, bless her little Goth loving pony heart, had the good grace to look discomforted on my behalf as she awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof. I‘m functionally immortal and I’m still not going to live this down am I?

Not if I can help it.

I mentally growled at Marauder as Celestia quickly dispelled the levity of the moment by bringing our attention back to the crisis. “Whatever the case may be, Maredusa believes that she has been personally insulted and shows no hesitation in using others to answer that insult.” She nodded to the map at the center of the command table. “She seems to have fortified the whole building with wards against any scrying spells we could use to find any worthwhile intel. We know nothing of the number of hostages, their condition, defenses, or even her general location.”

“There are twenty three hostages in total: five museum guards, the custodian, curator, and sixteen civilians. Seven of them are active while the rest have been petrified. None of the statues have been smashed, thank goodness, but the perpetrator’s history and profile makes it difficult to determine how long that will last. Aside from wards set to block scrying, the hallways are also littered with various traps to restrict troop movement and interfere with spell casting. The perpetrator and hostages are all located within the rotunda that connects the various wings: the hostages are all grouped together against the wall furtherest from the exits and Maredusa has been pacing just in front of the group insuring that any use of the entrances or attempts to grab the hostages will occur well within her line of sight.” By the end of my report, every eye in the tent was directed at me. The guards and Tartarus Brigade members, likely having dismissed me as an idiot until now, were staring at me in slack jawed wonder.

Even the ever stoic Celestia was caught off guard. In a rare show of surprise, she slowly blinked twice before she could speak. “And how could you possibly know all of this?”

“Aw come on, Princess! Did you forget already? I can literally be in several places at once!” I ignored the Sun Princess’s muttered ‘I wish I could forget’ and activated a command causing three colored holospheres to flicker to life. Each one sounded off as they formed.

“Helloooo!”

“Helloooo!”

“Helloooo!”

Steelhoof snorted at the display and shook his head in contempt. “Excellent. You’re your own acapella group and comedy troupe. Now how does that help us?”

“Ah, ah,” held up a finger to my mandible, “patience oh beefy one. I was just getting to that.” I gestured toward the three holospheres, “These forms are each artificial constructs formed from redirected light patterns. However, just because they are made of light doesn’t mean they have to be visible.” I gestured toward them again and each one faded from sight aside from a small blinking light of matching colors to let the crowd know they were still there rather than dispersed. They all gasped and even Steelhoof had a hand to his chin thoughtfully at the display.

I gestured again to dismiss all but one of the drones before moving on. “The wards inside are anti magic countermeasures designed to detect and dispel any cantrips, runes, or foci used too closely. My tech, however, doesn’t depend on any of those concepts which means my drones can circumnavigate the wards without setting them off. All that’s left is to bend light in the drones’ outer layer and we have invisible eyes.”

“It’s all very well that you have a means to bend the rules,” Celestia broke in worriedly, “but I see a flaw. As we went over your various obligations and glanced through your technology to see how it might react to various magic stimuli, I noticed one binding rule: Whether produced by magic or technology, energy is energy and typically maintains the same properties and reactions. Even if your drones avoid the spells restrictions, won’t the fields generated by the large number of wards interfere with any connection you try to keep with them?”

If the mouth I had now would have supported it I would be grinning from ear to ear. As it was, the best I could manage was offering a thumbs up that no doubt went over their heads. “Ding ding! Point goes to the pretty mare in gold bling!” Some of the guards scowled at my casual manner while Celestia simply rolled her eyes at my antics. “As you said, the energy fluctuations caused by those wards and traps would interfere with my connections causing my drones to lose energy and disperse or send back garbled information. However, they don’t have to be constantly connected. I can actually give them a small charge of energy and send them to operate independently on basic commands. In this case, I ordered them to covertly gather bits of information from across the museum then return with their findings for me to assemble. Viola!!” I waved my hands and the remaining drone projected a cone of light onto the map. Layers upon layer of data until a 3D transparent model of the museum hovered above the table. The rest of the group stared in awe as I pointed out various lights dotting the model. “Okay, the green dots in the center are the hostages, the one red is Maredusa’s last known coordinates, and the yellow markings are energy signatures indicating traps and wards.”

Steelhoof, having been the first to get over my awesome display of awesomeness, leaned on the table to study the image with an intense stare. “Well color me impressed. I can think of a dozen missions that this trick could have been a boon. As it is though,” the minotaur shook his ponderous head and his expression went grim, “I’m not liking the odds suggested my these little markings. A charge from any direction would get our troops shredded by the traps but taking the time to disarm them would alert the witch and endanger the hostages.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already come up with a plan. It involves precision, expediency, and above all subtlety.” My declaration was met with blank stares all around. They turned to meet each other’s gazes for an instant…and then promptly burst into laughter.

Luna was the first to recover some composure. “Oh. Oh dear. Thank thee friend Jeff,” she wheezed out as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Despite the slightly inappropriate timing, that laugh was sorely needed.”

“Indeed,” Celestia agreed before her small smile faded back into a concerned frown, “but in all seriousness, we need to formulate a plan. Those hostages may not have much time.”

“I wasn’t joking.” The a new atmosphere of awkwardness filled the room as stares now directed my way ranged from blank faced to outright disbelief. For the first time since landing here I felt a spike of irritation. “I’m sensing a lack of faith,” I stated dully.

Celestia sighed and massaged her head with a hoof before answering, “Jeff, I do not doubt that your advanced technology could provide precision and expediency. There are a great many words to describe your methods,” she actually paused and closed her eyes in an attempt to hide an eye twitch before muttering, “ many, many words.” She looked up and stared me in the eye tiredly. “I regret to say, though, that subtle is not included within that list.”

“Hey!” I cried indignantly. “Don’t be like that! I can be plenty subtle!”
Pfft. That’s a good one, Jeff. Now pull the other one. It plays ‘Daisy Do’.

Aww come on! You too?! Why does no one believe me?!

Three words, Jeff: Giant. Dancing. Robot.

Hey! Those were extenuating circumstances. I can be gosh darn mother clucking subtle any time I want, frag it!

….the heck was that? In fact, why haven’t either of us been able to curse lately? After those first centuries you became conscious I know for a fact you have an extensive list of expletives from multiple cultures.

It’s one of the provisions in Celestia’s little list of stuff for me to do before I get citizenship. Something about not exposing their culture to too many negative influences or some crap like that. I just went ahead and put a filter on our thought processes. That’s beside the point! I rambled quickly along the mental link, We’re talking about everyone’s lack of faith in my finesse! I can be just as subtle as the next robot!

Uh huh.

In and out without a trace. I’ll be quiet as a mouse and twice as inconspicuous.

Suuure.

I tell you, MS, that Maredusa chick will neeever see me coming.

Now that I can believe.

****

The museum’s rotunda was bathed in darkness. The only light sources were a few braziers that cast a harsh glare around and created flickering shadows as it fell on the nearby artifacts. With a twisted enough imagination, one might envision those shadows to be fiends from Tartarus dancing in celebration of a coming feast. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and whimpering from ponies kneeling near the statues like mourners at a grave site.

Feels like home, Maredusa thought sardonically as her face sneered at the sight and sound of her still animate prisoners. It had been far too long since she just relaxed and enjoyed the ambience.

She paced back and forth both to keep an eye on the hall entrances and to relish in the reactions coming from her conscious victims as they glimpsed her glorious form. Her body was lithe and strolled across the room with all the grace of a wild predator. A saber-shaped jade horn lined in red runes extended from her forehead. Two massive bat wings, both equaling to a total wingspan that reached nearly twice her body’s length, were folded against her side giving the illusion of a cape hanging from her shoulders. In place of a mane and tail, the top of her head to the base of her neck was lined with writhing vipers and her tail was that of a serpent. Her coat sheened with a poisonous green that was slightly lighter colored than the scales on the snakes and tail. Her orange slitted snake eyes reflected the firelight and wicked curved fangs glinted from her cruel smile.

As much as she enjoyed the suffering of her victims, her mood dampened as recent events came to mind and her gaze was once again drawn to the hallways where she expected to hear word of her demands. To hear word of her coming clash with her hated foe: Jeff.

*scratch*

She grimaced as the name flashed in her mind. That miserable wretch! She had been so close, not only to making a grand reentrance to Equus, but ensnaring the Princesses themselves! Maredusa’s plan had included a recently devised spell that, while only able to fire once before needing a long period to charge, would have bypassed the Princesses’ defenses. She came so close only for that trickster to snatch victory from her grasp with that-! That monstrosity! She shuddered as bits and pieces of that horror show surfaced before she suppressed it again.

*scratch scratch*

Maredusa had to admit that part of her was looking forward to meeting this new creature. She had heard many of the stories as she blended with the crowds of the city through her illusions. Some said he was a new god that came crashing from the heavens. He was made of black steel, tall as a mountain, and shook the ground with each step. Others spoke of how he could change form to a terrifying, bipedal soul harvester with a door to the pits of Tartarus in his chest. Others yet claimed that he had no true physical form. That he was actually a spirit of pale flames taken from the very stars. Whatever he was, he would surely prove a foe worthy of the attention of the Old Ones and their followers. Perhaps even more so than the Princesses themselves?

*scratch scratch scratch*

Maredusa snorted and rolled her eyes in disgust at the state of the place. Modern ponies mocked their ancestors for living in caves but at least those caves weren’t allowed to be infested with vermin. This was supposed to be government property! Royal grounds! Well I know the first thing I’m going to do when I conquer these milksops. Institute some decent quality contr-

*BOOM*

Her mental rant/to do list was interrupted as she was hurled through the air along with a mass of ruble by some force from above and behind her. She fell into a heap after her body skidded six feet along the floor. After giving a chance for her ears to stop ringing and her head to stop spinning Maredusa cracked her eyes open to take stock of her surroundings: she was surrounded by chunks of wall, the braziers were extinguished, and the room seemed filled with an eerie blue light. Her eyes shot open and she quickly stood while turning to face her foe.

The wall section above and behind the hostages was blown apart explaining the force that knocked her forward and the rubble that surrounded her. The hostages themselves were tucked safely away in a dome of blue energy that she couldn’t seem to identify. And between her and those hostages? A tall, bipedal figure stood staring her down as the pale light of the shield outlined it and cast a shadow over its form. Its eyes glowed with a baleful glare in her direction.

The sight made Maredusa shiver with excitement. She almost felt like a foal again. Yes! After centuries in combat and countless millennia languishing in the bowls of the underworld, she would finally have a battle worthy of her grace and majesty! It would be a clash that would live in myth and legend! She flared her wings, went over thousands of scenarios in her head, and braced herself for whatever the being in front of her might try.

She still wasn’t prepared.

It posed with one hand on its hip, the other waving an admonishing finger and said in a singsong voice, “Oh Mareduuucy! You’ve got some splanin’ to do.”

****

HECK YEAH! DID YOU SEE THAT, SHIELDS? I blared through the mind link, I SUBTLED THE CRAP OUT OF THAT ENTRANCE!!

Marauder mentally sighed, I think you kind of missed the point of the exercise, Jeff. I will give credit where it’s due, though: I doubt she could’ve seen this coming.

For her part, Maredusa actually did an admirable job of keeping her composure in the face of my randomness. She only stared for a few moments before shaking her head and taking what I assumed to be her ‘fear me’ posture. Her wings flared slightly and the vipers on her head poised as if trying to make herself seem bigger. Her face fixed into a haughty sneer and she stared me down with her snake eyes the same way a cat may have stared down its next meal. “So we finally meet. Two champions: one serving the Old Gods and the other serving the new. Honestly, I’m surprised how much sadism seems to have developed with those Princesses in my absence. Something must have truly warped them to pick such a dark being for their cause.”

I quirked an eyebrow while I tried to figure out what this crazy quadruped was thinking. She giggled and waved a hoof at my confusion as if I had just told a joke. “Come now, Jeff. You needn’t play coy with me. I’ve see your methods first hoof after all.” If I still had lips, they would have been pursed as I tried to think of what she was referring to. I certainly didn’t remember any sort of campaign…?...! No. No, she couldn’t mean-

“That Playhouse scheme was the most devious I had ever witnessed!” she squealed with exuberance. “To think that was the same Playhouse that she gushed during the last age of how it would be a beacon of hope for better days to come! About how it was her dream to bring ponies and their families together! Why, I never expected for an instant she would go as far as to risk running it into the ground just to catch me!”

Aaaaand now I found out I just soiled a millennia old dream. Any feel-good-vibes left from Luna’s pep talk were starting to dwindle. “Could we just skip the whole banter phase and go straight for the brawling?” I sighed tiredly.

“And then the collateral damages!” she went on ignoring my monotone plea. “That pompous solar hack always used to go on about how she valued the safety of her subjects. And then she turns and lets her new champion use nearly two hundred for bait!” She actually giggled this time as she sat back on her haunches and clapped her hooves in delight. “I don’t think a single soul left that night without mental scarring!”

What was that? You want an extra side of shame with that guilt? No problem, sir! Here at Burn King, special orders don’t upset us!

“Seriously, could you please stop talking?!” I gritted out in annoyance to the mad mare in front of me as well as the obnoxious voice in my head.

“Ah, eager to meet my old acquaintances in Tartarus are we?” Maredusa drew herself to her full height. “So be it! Jeff, Last of the Reaper. For your insolence and for tarnishing my glorious return, I consign you to oblivion! Perish!” Her eyes, both her normal ones and the ones belonging to the vipers she used as a mane, glowed orange and glared at me. We quietly stood there gazing into one another’s eyes, no sound except for the hissing of her snake mane.

Eventually, I had to put a hand to my mouth to stifle a yawn. “Yeah, listen. I realize dramatic tension is a big deal for these little scuffles but just how long do we have to stand here? Or is there some sort of cue I should be looking for? Honestly, I’m not all that familiar with protocol for big stare downs.”

The light faded as Maredusa and her serpents blinked in confusion when Jeff started talking. Her confusion quickly morphed to anger and she hissed as she resumed her glowy glare of doom. Once again, we went into another stare down.

And once again, her face twisted into a mixture of confusion and frustration as nothing happened aside from drawing an impatient sigh from me. “Alright, I get it already. I’m very impressed by your ‘hey foals! I’m the monster hiding under your bed’ face. Unless,” my voice went from sarcastic to panicky as my hands quickly went to my face, “is there something on my face? Nooo! Not after going to the effort of buffing and polishing before I got here! How is anypony going to take my hero debut seriously if my picture in the paper has me with a rusted or dented faceplate?!” I put the back of my hand to my forehead in as dramatic pose as possible, “This is just the! Worst! Possible!! Thing!!”

Maredusa actually growled as she let the glow fade from her eyes once again, “What is the meaning of this?! No living thing can witness my focused stare without turning to stone!”-Oh yeah. I forgot that was a thing. Never thought I’d be glad being a machine technically disqualified me from the whole ‘living’ category.-“Well it makes no difference. By the this night’s end, Maredusa shall reign supreme!”

She smiled confidently. “Perhaps this is for the best. After all, it wouldn’t do for warriors of our caliber to end our duel in such a lackluster manner as instant petrification, would it? No, let us fill the night air with roars of bloodlust and battle! Such as it was in the old days and so shall it be when I return this land of mewling weaklings back to the ways of glory and”-

Oh good grief! Does she ever shut up?! Marauder screeched in my mind. Is there some unspoken rule that villains have to tell their life stories and life goals every time they seem someone or something remotely interesting?!

-“and then in the sacred banquets they would feast on the blood of innocents! On the cows and the chickens and the pigeons and the mongooses and the orangutans and the”-

I don’t think so, I pondered as I lumped in Maredusa’s voice along with the background noise. I kept sensors on her, of course, in case she actually got bored of her voice and started something. I mean, Inquisitor never did that and he would’ve counted as a villain, right? In fact, especially for an R and D guy, he was pretty straight forward: He came, he saw, he blew it the frick up.

Yeah, well, Reapers never were that imaginative of a bunch, Marauder mumbled. We both brooded from inside my head as we waited for snake lady to get her drama queen urges out of the way. Well, it looks like she’s going to be a while. Wanna pass the time with I spy?

-“and thus the sanguine sasquatch squadrons sang their sorrowful sonnets”-

Why not? I’m game. You get first go.

Okay then. I spy with my cyborg eye something that starts with…’B’.

You can’t use swear words, MS.

Oh crap. Right. The whole swearing filter. Okay then, something that starts with ‘N’.

Hmmm. Nag?

Got it in one!

We went back and forth like that for a while until we ran out of objects (More specifically, Marauder ran out of derogatory names for Maredusa) and we each went to our own method of self-entertainment. Marauder started playing Galaga, still not sure where he picked that up, and I used the high-speed camera function to take random pictures of Maredusa during her speech. I figure Celly would appreciate some of these afterward. When Maredusa’s gestures started mellowing out in signal that she was winding down, I decided to go ahead turn the input volume back up.

-“and that is how I discovered the secret of Sunny’s cake obsession and her real reason for snoring.”-Wait, WHAT?! I missed something that was actually juicy!? NOOOO!!-“But I digress. The time for speech is over. Destiny is at hoof!” Maredusa pawed her hoof into the ground. “You should feel honored. On this night you witness true power, pretender!”

And just like that, it hit me. Sure, I could just stomp her into the ground or send out an EMP that could knock her out with an overload but she had just given me the perfect way to hit her where it hurts. I crouched in a ready position to start the fight but then dropped it as I burst into a fit of giggles. Those giggles developed into an outright belly laugh that brought me to my knees and caused a stitch in my side. When my convulsions finally subsided I stood and brushed a tear from my eyes. “Wow! I’d almost forgotten what that felt like. Thanks babe.”

“And what, pray tell, did I do to remind you ‘what that felt like?’” Maredusa asked softly. Her eyes were narrowed as she glared at me in anger disguised by a thin veneer of civility.

“Uh. Isn’t it obvious?” I asked dryly as I shrugged then gestured to her. “How ironic is it that I’m being called a pretender by somepony that clearly suffers Princess Envy?”

As if flipped by a light switch, her anger dissipated only to be replaced by wide-eyed shock. She actually blushed and stuttered. “I-I beg your pardon? Just what do you mean by that?!”

“Aww, come on! Are you really going to make me point it out!?” I groaned dramatically. “The signs are all right there! Like those oversized bat wings of yours,” I waved vaguely at the name appendages, “they just scream ‘Hi, world! I’m overcompensating!’”

“HEY! There is nothing wrong with these wings!” she yelped indignantly, even as she tucked them to her side as much as she could. “The gift of flight is beyond useful in battle! And since some of us don’t have **** **** stars to power our magic,”-What the heck Jeff! Did you filter the audio input too? Yup. If we couldn’t use it, no point in torturing ourselves having to listen to others do it when we couldn’t.- “and cheat our way into the air, I had to improvise and make bigger wings to provide more lift.”

“Uh huh,” I muttered unconvinced as I crossed my arms, “and I guess it helped you fly better to have a dark snake mane that waves in the air and has random scales that sparkle blue,” I actually sniggered at that one. “I guess we know which Princess your little filly heart turns green at the sight of, huh?”

All but one of the snakes huddled closer to her skull. The last one sent an exaggerated hiss my way that I strongly suspected was its version of blowing a raspberry. Maredusa actually put a hoof to her mane and started stroking it gently. “Th-There’s nothing wrong with my mane! It resulted from frequent dark magic use and marks my proficiency!”

“Then there’s the obvious horn extension.”

“IT’S A **** FOCUS RELIC YOU LITTLE ****!!” she yelled manically. Her ‘mane’ had started to wave and hiss wildly at the surroundings and little sparks spewed from the horn as the runes on it blazed angrily. “IT ENHANCES MY **** MAGIC BY A HUNDERED FOLD, **** IT!!!”

“And don’t even try to convince me you were born with those long legs and dainty bod. I actually found one other mare like that in this town and, after doing several scans of a few other similar ponies in the country, calculated that it would have taken thousands of years of evolution past your time before the species managed to produce any specimens with those looks. Not without serious magic help anyways.” I had to put a hand back over my mandibles to suppress another guffaw.

“S-shut u-up.” The weird tremble in her voice made me look up and what I saw sent my eyebrow climbing upward. Maredusa, the scourge and fear of all decent ponies everywhere, was sniffling with her head hung low. Even some of the snakes were in on it. She started idly tracing circles in the ground in front of her with her left hoof as she snuffled on, “I-it wasn’t easy growing up with all the expectations! With father always comparing me to his perfect younger child,” she stood on her haunches, pointed her hoof at an imaginary filly, and started speaking with a fake deep voice, “It was ‘Oh Maredusa, what are we going to do with you?’ and ‘Why couldn’t you have some of your sister’s good looks and charisma?’ And ‘If she inherited the position, then we’d probably have the Old Masters out and about by now!’ You don’t know how hard it was living with that before I finally said ‘**** it’ and tossed ‘em down the nearest chasm!”-Awww. Almost makes you wish we had a heart so we could feel for her doesn’t it? - “And if that wasn’t bad enough, my own followers were pining after those whorses! I even walked in on one of them with a picture of sun plot on the wall while he- WHY AM I TELLING YOU ABOUT ANY OF THIS?!?!” She abruptly shrieked as she finally seemed to realize what she was spouting. She stomped her hoof hard enough for cracks to web along the stone floor beneath it. “THIS IS MEANT TO BE AN EPIC LIFE OR DEATH STRUGGLE! I DEMAND YOU STOP THIS FOOLISHNESS AT ONCE!!”

“Well why didn’t you say something earlier? So what kind of foolishness would you like to see?” Seemingly from nowhere, I yanked out a sheet of paper as I promoted, “As you can see, I’ve got plenty of variety! We have slapstick, dark, situational, as well as some-” The roll of paper turned to ash as a finger thin light shot through it and harmlessly bounced off the biotic shield behind me. I looked up at Maredusa who was huffing hard through her nostrils and quickly approaching hyperventilation while her right eye violently twitched. “Uh oh. Looks like somepony~ got up on the wrong side of Tartarus~” I singsonged.

Wait, isn’t Tartarus their version of Hell? Marauder interrupted, Would there even be a right side?

Hmmm, I think that would be Elysium. Or was that a band name? Good question, though. Remind me to ask Celestia later.

Important philosophical debates aside, I looked into Maredusa’s rage filled eyes, the right of which seemed to pick up in twitch frequency, and put on the most serious expression I could. “Well, I suppose that’s enough joking for one night,” I reached behind my back and Maredusa’s aggravated expression mellowed into a more thoughtful one as she noticed the movement. I continued putting all the finality in my voice that I could, “Now the time has come to face the consequnces of your sins.” I whipped out my weapon so quickly that a resounding crack filled the air.

Words seemed to fail her as Maredusa stared intensely at the glorious weapon in my right fist. And stared. And stared some more. She eventually found her voice again to comment, “That…That is a towel.”

“Never…ever…underestimate a good towel,” I growled ominously. “For it is with this tool of hygienic justice-” I grabbed the other end and stretched it out before me as if holding a wall in front of me “-that I shall wipe you out!”

“…….”

“…….”

“…….”

….I’m still in program form fully separated from my body, Marauder muttered, and I was hurt hearing that.

I watched Maredusa and was rewarded with one of the best reactions in the night. Forget eye twitching. The whole right side of her face began to spasm. “Die,” she whispered. A ball of energy the size of a marble formed at the tip of her horn. It grew and the smell of ozone permeated the air. “Die die die die die die DIIIIIE!!” When it reached the size of a bowling ball she reared up and stomped forward, flinging it in my direction. A self-satisfied smile crossed her still spasming face as her ball of death hurtled toward the source of her ills.

As for myself? I waited patiently with my linen wall in front of me. I literally counted the milliseconds as I waited and it came closer. And closer. And closer. My mandibles vibrated and I could feel the air humming around me. The air stunk of ozone and I could clearly see Maredusa’s blissful expression past the ball…

And then I thrust my arms forward wrapping the energy ball in the towel and catching it. If somepony had walked in, they might have thought I was cradling a game ball rather than a sphere of energy potent enough to blast through eight inches of reinforced steel. Maredusa’s satisfied look disappeared leaving a disbelieving one and I could’ve sworn I heard her jaw as it hit the floor. “How…H-h-how did? What?!”

My mandibles flared in excitement and I evilly announced, “And now for the return serve!”

The psycho mare’s disbelief made way for panic. Her eyes widened and her pupils shrunk to pinpricks. “Oh no. No,” she stood on her haunches waving her forehooves while shaking her head in denial, “no no no no.” I ignored her pleas, or savored them rather, as I pulled my hands apart turning the towel into a slingshot that sent the energy ball flying back at her. “Nononononono!”

*BOOM*

The explosion sent Maredusa flying backwards and crashing through the wall into another exhibit. I lifted my hands and yelled, “Scoooore!” then I turned my head to the right. “And what word from our judges?” At my cue, the three colored spheres from earlier popped up and presented holographic numbers: 9.1, 9.5, 8.9. I stared at the numbers for a moment then shrugged, “Meh, I suppose the execution could use more work.”

“How? How was it possible?!” My head jerked around toward the hole with honest surprise. I didn’t she’d actually be able to get up from that. The smoke cleared and I saw her stomp forward over the ruble. She stood steadily despite the fact that she didn’t come from the blast unscathed. She was heaving air, as were some of the snakes from her mane, and her coat and wings were scorched. Whips of smoke trailed along her body and she was sporting a nasty black eye. How any creature gets a black eye from an explosion is beyond me but oh well. “You wielded mere linen!” she wheezed in a combination of exhaustion and wide-eyed incredulity. “That shouldn’t have been possible!”

Now, clearly, the honorable thing would have been to tell the truth. I could have told her that, back while I was working out some of my depression, one of my drones threaded it with experimental mythril wire. I could have told her that I further reinforced it with a concealed biotic field. But really, where is the fun in that?

I placed one hand on my hip and pointed the other at her in a superhero pose I’d seen in various comics. I yelled in the hammiest voice I could muster, “Your attacks were useless evildoer because you failed to realize that linens-” I twirled the towel around me like a set of nunchucks before holding it in front of me “-is magic!” For the extra effect I threw in a gong sound effect from my audio that resounded throughout the chamber.

I watched as every trace of emotion bled from her face, leaving an emotionless mask. Her head hung low and she stared at the ground as if some piece the ruble may hold the secret to reviving her smashed dreams of glory. Honestly, I would have felt bad if I had seen the look on anyone else as it was what I would have imagined seeing on a kid’s face after some jerk told them Santa Claus was fake for sick kicks. Or maybe even that he died. In this case, however, I had to fight to keep a straight face an avoid laughing my metallic butt off.

After staring at the ruble for a few minutes, she casually flicked her head. A spark flew from the horn and a floating sword was conjured on either side of her. She looked up and, in a voice as dead as her expression, quietly announced, “I’m going to start stabbing you now. I don’t know when I’ll stop.”

“Well, try not to take too long if you can. I’m a busy robot you know: places to see, things to do, possibly more villains to not take seriously.”

“RAAARRRRRRRGGGHH!!!”

Author's Note

Chapter finally up. Sorry for the delay, but life, or the lack there of, has a way complicating things.

Enjoy! all comments and constructive criticism appreciated.

Side story: The World is DOOMED!!...isn’t it?

Mount Kill’emaloto; the tallest formation on Equus. A terrifying stone sentinel painstakingly formed by Mother Nature over a course of millions of years. One look at it would lead many to assume she must have been working out some serious anger issues at the time.

It was located within the heart of the Badlands; a patch of Faust-forsaken wasteland south of Equestria infamous for flesh-eating monsters and its sweltering plains. The base was surrounded by dense forest that blocked out sunlight and housed an assortment of gruesome horrors. Any adventurer that managed to get past that forest in one piece would then be faced with the intimidating sight of a sheer wall of unforgiving stone. If a punishment craving adventurer manages to make it past those servings of ‘Fool, you gonna die!’ on the buffet of pain? We come to desert: the frozen peaks. The very top is buried in fifteen feet of never melting snow and ice maintained by a perpetual blizzard that rages with enough force to rend flesh from bone. Daring Do herself was noted to have said quote ‘Any creature trying to climb that slope is stupid, crazy, or suicidal. If not all of the above.’

Therefore, it would be little surprise to any observer as to the identity of the speck currently scaling up its side.

On a ridge in front of one of the few caves in the mountain side a metallic hand grasped the edge. With a desperate heave, the rest of the owner appeared as he pulled himself over and rolled onto his back where he lay trying to give his various systems a chance to recover from the stress of the climb up. Yes, despite the advanced tech and vast computing power, it was truly a miracle this little tin soldier made it past the obstacles this mountain threw at him. It was unlikely he would make it past the unseen horrors lying in wait in the cave systems ahead but, fortunately for our limited and thick skulled little drone, he had the support of a vastly superior, omnipotent, and incredibly handsome godlike being. Yes, a majestic an benevolent higher intelligence that bestowed a near endless amount of mercy and understanding on this little tin puppet despite the equally endless snark and stupid-

“Oh for the love of you, SHUT UP!” Marauder Shields yelled from the frozen spot where he lay. “You’ve been monologuing ever since Canterlot.”

My holosphere image blinked into existence beside Marauder’s still form. “Awww, don’t be like that, MS. Everybody loves a good commentary!”

“‘Good’ being the operative word in that sentence, Jeff,” Marauder grunted as he stood and brushed the snow from his body. “Well, since you’re so desperate to talk despite my pleas, how about reminding me why we’re here.”

“Well, as best as I remember Celly telling it we’re here to stop the resurgence of a super plague that was used by those Primal Elder God guys back during the war before Discord’s reign.” As I went into save the day orientation mode, Marauder and I made our way into the caves. The winding layout and lack of light would’ve posed a problem if it wasn’t for Marauder’s sharpened senses and the light produced from my hologram. “Since the disease was more of a spell than physical illness and it traveled along the ley lines that living things drew their magic from, they couldn’t treat it with normal methods. So, working together with Lulu and Dissy, they created a binding spell that sealed the disease away within the depths of the ley lines. Finishing the spell required a physical focus; the Black Sleep Orchid.”

“What? You mean this shriveled old thing?” Marauder asked as he pulled out the blackened plant remains sent with them by Celestia. It originally had midnight blue petals with black swirls that were now missing and the firm stalk had shriveled up.

“Yup. They had it in storage to make sure it was never damaged, thus releasing the plague back into the world, but it was found by the decedents of Primal God fanatics called the Order of Spine Chilling Horrifically Maiming Uber Callous Killers.”

“I will never understand this world,” Marauder muttered as he shook his head disgustedly. “How could anyone, pony or otherwise, take a group called the Dark Order of S.C.H.M.U.C.K. seriously?”

My holosphere bobbed in an approximation of a shrug. “Well, you know. Different cultures, lack of references, yadda yadda. Still, they were dangerous enough to get past the storage defenses and destroy the orchid in the first place. With the orchid trashed, the disease is loose on all living things in the world.”

“Well, sucks to be organic then.”

Our conversation was interrupted as a giant, apelike creature covered in white fur and sporting a couple of goat horns on its head jumped from a crevice and landed in front of us. It roared loud enough to vibrate the chamber before charging. Neither one of us took much heed as Marauder flicked a hand, wrapping the beast in a blue aura and sending it tumbling against the cave wall. It rose long enough to shake its head and look at us in fear before yelping as it retreated toward another tunnel.

“There you go, MS,” I cried proudly. “See? With the powers at your platform’s disposal you can solve problems in other ways besides cutting arms off like with those last furry things.”

“Meh. It was more satisfying my way.” He shrugged and we resumed our walk. “Anyhow, you were droning about the fate of the world?”

“Ah, right thanks. As I was about to say, the only way to save the world from the Black Sleep is by restoring the focus.”

“But our scans showed that this was the only flower of its kind so we can’t just grab a substitute.”

“And that’s why Celly gave us the remains. So we could restore it using that.” I motioned to a pillar of light at the center of the cave camber we had just entered. Illuminated by the light was a simple gold ring sitting on a pedestal. “It’s the horn ring of Green Hoof the plant sage. Accroding to Celly, it can restore any plant to full life. All you have to do is touch the artifact to the dead plant and presto! By restoring the Orchid, the seal is back and the disease is simultaneously removed from every victim across the world.”

“Well I’m sure we’re all looking forward to that little happy ending filled with parties and songs,” Marauder drawled sarcastically, “but that doesn’t answer my original question. What are we specifically doing here? We artificials aren’t affected and this little trip has been a big hassle. Why are we doing this?”

“For the sake of Equestria and a limitless tab at Whinnies?”

“Oh yeah,” Marauder muttered, “that.” Needing no further prompting, he marched up to the ring, picked it off of the pedestal, and touched it to the plant. At first nothing happened. Marauder looked back and shared a look of confusion with me before a green glow surrounded the plant. The glow faded leaving behind the Orchid in its former pristine condition. The mountain shook and the chamber went dark as clouds of black representing the disease flooded in to be absorbed by the flower.

I looked around to make sure nothing else was going to happen before giving a satisfied nod. “Well, Celly said that would mean success. Mission accomplished, let’s head home.” I turned toward the cave entrance and waited for Marauder to come along. And waited. And waited a bit more. I looked back to see Marauder with his back turned to me as he held the artifacts and made no move. “Ummm. MS? This is where we leave. You know? Parties and songs happy ending? Shields?” His shoulders started shaking and I did a diagnostics on him only to find no explanation. “Uhhh. Shields?”

A faint wheezing in time with his shaking started. That wheezing gradually increased to a chuckle and then an outright sadistic laugh as he lifted his head. “BWAHAHAHAHAHAAA!”

****

The ponies of Ponyville were dancing in the streets as they celebrated the departure of the dreaded Black sleep disease. A few minutes prior, they had been laying on pallets throughout the street surrounding the library effectively turning the town center into an impromptu quarantine zone as the hospital couldn’t handle the sheer numbers. Cries of pain, fear, and grief had filled the air as the entire town seemed to be facing a painful end- Only to find hope again as a black cloud manifested among them and tore away to the south leaving everypony completely cured.

The Elements of Harmony, who had been acting as aides and inspiration for the town despite their own sickness, stood on the library balcony with smiles on their faces as the watched ponies dancing in the street. Seeing so much celebration without ‘the proper party necessities’ proved too much for Pinkie and she shot down the stairs and out the door where she yelled in joy along with the other ponies yelling things like “Whoo Hooo! Everypony get ready for the ‘The bad stuff is gone and we’re not doomed anymore’ party of the year!”

Twilight simply rolled her eyes as Pinkies antics pulled a smile from her as always. “Well everypony, it looks like we’re in the clear and Jeff managed to pull it off.”

“Psh. Yeah, for a change.”

The bitter tone drew Twilight’s surprised gaze to Rainbow whose reveling expression quickly soured to annoyance at the mention of Jeff.

“Now comeon sugar cube,” Applejack said from the prism pegasus’ left, “ya have ta admit he did good this time. Ya can’ just stay sore at ‘em just cause he one uped ya on some pranks.”

“That’s right. He’s always ready to help and pull us from a dark place despite how he….um…despite his uhh.” Twilight looked nervously to the side as even her extensive vocabulary was struggling to come up with an accurate yet non-demeaning term to go with Jeff’s behavior.

“Despite his eccentricities?” Rarity put in delicately.

“Yes! Eccentricities! We’ll go with that!” Twilight agreed a little too eagerly. She turned back to address Rainbow, “And you have to admit, even with all of his odd tics, he never leave a friend hanging.”

As Twilight had hoped, the borrowed quote managed to bring a smile to Rainbow who finally shrugged and sighed, “Okay. You’re right. I should probably pony up and admit he did good.”

No sooner than the word left her mouth, a thunderous boom echoed through the skies and the black cloud swept through the streets. The ponies looked upon themselves in horror as black spots popped up on their skin again. Everything went deathly quiet until the silence was broken by a certain muli-colored pegasus muttering, “Why am I not surprised?”

All at once, everypony started screaming and running through the streets in renewed panic. The only one calm in the masses was a scruffy traveler who smirked at the proceedings from where he sat on the side of the street near a sign he had carried everywhere that displayed the words ‘The end is near!’ along with a recent addition that said ‘See? Called it.’” Pinkie Pie had simply shrugged saying, “Ah well. Party’s postponed for impending doom. WE ALL GONNA DIIIE!” before dashing through the streets herself.

“Twilight! What in tarnation is goin’ on?!” Applejack yelped as she watched the panic in the streets worriedly.

“I-I don’t know!” Twilight said nervously as she shook her head in confusion. “Maybe something in the library might-”

Twilight’s suggestion for yet more research was cut off as a second boom echoed and the black cloud formed from everypony and fled for the south as it had the first time. The crowd gave collective sigh of relief. Pinkie halted panic mid-scream and hopped in place, “Yay! Party back on!”

“S-so does anypony know what happened,” Fluttershy inquired quietly. “Um. Maybe the cure had a, um, glitch?”

Twilight shook her head, “My research was clear that the whole affair would be pretty cut and dry! Either it would work or it wouldn’t!”

An instant later, thunder filled the air and the cloud returned bringing new panic along with it. Pinkie stood in the streets while ponies ran around her and she seemed to have an epiphany, “Oooh. Maybe it’s like the Red light Green light game! Only with doom! Hee hee. Doom on! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!!” and with that, she shot off back into the fracas.

“WHAT IN EQUESTRIA IS GOING ON AROUND HERE?!” Twilight yelled frantically as several hairs in her mane chose then to pop out of place.

****

The whole of Canterlot Castle seemed deserted. The halls were empty, the kitchens were quiet, and only a smaller contingent of guards was on duty patrolling the grounds. Due to the extreme stress caused by the diseases course as well as the odd happenings afterward, Celestia decided it was best that the castle staff be given the day off. To an extent, this applied to the guards as well by giving the majority leave and having a smaller group do runs in shorter shifts with those in reserve. Celestia only wished she could give herself leave.

She currently sat on the throne in the petitioner’s chamber while Luna stood nearby as her time to change to the night was fast approaching. Despite her typical serene visage, Celestia was fighting desperately against a worsening migraine. Jeff and Marauder currently stood before her providing an explanation as to what led to what the papers dubbed the ‘Doom Flipping Incident.’ The only two souls in the room were a couple of guards standing at attention as the bottom of the dais. Both seemed to be dutifully staring ahead but she had long since come to suspect that the left had fallen asleep during Jeff’s report and was hiding it from learning how to sleep with his eyes open.

For the past hour, Jeff had weaved a long winded tale of self-proclaimed heroism and suffering at the whims of a terrible ‘tech ghost’ that had possessed Marauder. He even went as far as to have Marauder give some halfhearted shudders at the memory of the ‘traumatizing experience’ he endured. Jeff wrapped up his account with a battle involving a thunder god riding a horned hammerhead shark. Tension rose in the room as everyone, minus one potentially wide-eyed asleep guardspony, awaited her final say on the matter. Celestia made her decision clear with one flat declaration. “Horseapples.”

Everyone in the room jumped in surprise at the sun monarch’s use of pony profanity. Even the nodding off guard snorted as the swear managed to shock him into wakefulness with a muttered ‘Eh? Uh, drop the sandwich and…?’ Marauder simply huffed and facepalmed while Jeff actually went through with the whole shocked and indignant act. “Princess! I want nothing more than to put the citizens’ fears to rest and get past this terrible event! What makes you think I would make something up?!”

“You mean aside from the Bill Shetland level acting?” Celestia retorted.

“Hey!”

She ignored the indignant, genuine this time, squawk and counted off reasons as she idly waved a hoof. “Firstly, it’s ridiculous to think I would believe it was a ghost. The last ghost died over six hundred years ago.”

“Alas, dear Casper. Thou shalt be missed,” Luna lamented.

“Secondly, there is no way I would believe the God of Thunder rode in on a horned hammerhead shark. For one thing, horned hammerhead sharks went extinct long before my sister ever went to the moon. For another, I happen to know the Thunder God and that he is violently allergic to fish.” Jeff shivered in place and might have been sweating bullets if he actually had a body. Marauder looked like he wouldn’t have cared either way. Jeff looked like he was working his nerve to speak again when Celestia held up an imperious hoof. “The truth this time, Jeff,” she said sternly, “the absolute, unfettered truth.”

Jeff gave a put upon sigh and glanced nervously to the side. He looked Celestia in the eye, “You know those magic circuit light switches? The ones that let non unicorns control light settings without unicorn assistance?”

Celestia blinked in surprise at the apparent change in topic. “Aye. But what does that have to do with-”

“You know how some ponies like to kill time by flicking the switch on and off? Just, you know, watching the lights flicker.”

She did indeed. In fact, shortly after they were invented, that very hobby became a form of private relaxation as she tried to get over Luna’s banishment. She had been so fascinated by the ingenious yet simple little contraption. Not that she would ever let anyone know. Especially not these two. She coughed delicately before answering, “Well. I know of such individuals of course. But I don’t see the connection…?...!” She looked into Jeff’s eyes who said nothing as he returned her stare calmly. “….You didn’t.”

****

(Earlier that day at the peaks of Kill’emaloto)

Marauder held the orchid in both hands above his head. “You pitiful worms! You miserable, slime trailing vermin thought that I would bow to your whims?!” he bellowed arrogantly. “FOOLISH PONIES!! TODAY, MARAUDER SHIELDS HERALDS YOUR DEMISE!!” Utilizing all of the strength in his synthetic muscles could muster, he hurled the flower to the ground smashing it and sending the cloud of Black Sleep back into the world.

“You’re wrong traitor!” I stood in front of the megalomaniac who now sneered at my attempt to make a stand. “These ponies hold as spark! A spark of life that must never be extinguished. It will never be extinguished. Not as long as I stand as their champion! Behold! For the sake of Harmony!” I quickly sent a tendril of biotic energy toward the dead plant and brought it back to touch the ring. The moment they touched a green light sparked and the cloud came back into the restored orchid. “And thus life was saved! So says the savior Jeff!”

Faster than one could blink, Marauder yanked the orchid from my grasp and smashed it down onto the ground. “And now it’s doomed!”

“They live!”

“They die!”

“Phoenix down!”

“Suck it life!”

“Hey let me go now.”

“Sorry, Jeff. No can do.”

“Hey, come ooooon,” I wheedled at him. “You got to threaten all life twelve times already! Let someone else have a go at the death flower!”

“You don’t match the qualifications to threaten life.”

“What qualifications!! We’re holding the fricken McGuffins of life and death!!”

“It’s all about style, Jeff. I properly look the part of a proper doom bringer. You on the other hand, don’t,” he drawled contemptuously as he gestured to me.

“Hey I’m plenty scary! I’m a two kilometer tall death bot with super lasers!”

“Really?” Marauder asked as he looked back and forth in confusion before looking back at me. “Because all see is an obnoxious ball of light that looks like he belongs in a Disney sing-a-long video.”

“Hey, come ooooon.,” I cried as I bounced in place. “Please? Pretty please? Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”

“Tell you what,” Marauder offered as he idly twirled the life ending flower in his other hand, “we play rock paper scissors. You win and the next turn is yours. I win and I get five more rounds first. Deal?”

“Deal!” We both readied ourselves and counted to three. On three, I created a holographic paper while Marauder made a scissors gesture. “Grrrrrr. Dang it, Shields. How do you keep beating me?!”

“You do remember I’m part of your head, right? If you don’t actively block me, I can see pretty much anything you try.”

“….”

“….”

“…DANG IT!!”

“Aw look on the bright side, Jeff,” Marauder said in a mock consoling tone, “five more turns and you get to go.”

I huffed and looked to the side. “Alriiiiight.”

****

By the end of Jeff’s retelling, the throne room had gone deathly quiet. A well trained eye would have spotted a slight shiver from the guards as their fight or flight instincts desperately warned them to run from the growing sense of danger sitting on the throne behind them. The quiet was broken as Celestia took a breath and spoke in a deceptive calm, “So…just to be absolutely clear. You took items of life and death and reduced them to a light switch-”

“Actually,” Jeff interrupted despite Marauder’s not so subtle warnings, “I prefer to think of it more like the clapper. That way it has its own catchy jingle. You know ‘Doom on~ Doom off~ The Doomer~!” he sang out.

“Right,” Celestia acknowledged through gritted teeth. “Anyway, you treated them like a game-”

“Yahtzee!”

“-and that is why this flickering has continue to panic the kingdom. For the last. Eight. Hours?!”

Jeff shared a quick look with Marauder before glancing back and nodding, “Eeyep. I’d say that little summary covers it rather nicely, Princess!”

Celestia went stock still: her mane, her muscles, even her breathing seemed to freeze. It looked like someone made and painted perfect statue in her likeness and placed it on the throne. Luna glanced nervously at her sister as she remembered the last time Celestia reacted this way. It was several hundred years before the Nightmare Moon incident when they found out one of their ‘loyal supporters’ was planning to betray the kingdom. And also that he planned on ‘making her royal cake plot his little whorse’ after the coup. With memories of the resulting carnage now fresh in her mind, Luna began slowly inching away from the throne hoping she wouldn’t draw attention to herself.

“RAAAAAARRRRRRGGHHH!!!”

Celestia’s yell of fury shook the foundations of the castle. Her rainbow mane and tale turned into massive orange flares that immediately scorched the throne and sections of the wall behind her. Her eyes became blazing infernos and sections of her own white coat began to give off smoke as they darkened from white to charcoal black. The two guards, prided on being grizzeled veterans from skirmishes in the badlands, screamed like fillies at the sight and bolted out the door. And Jeff?

While Marauder seemed to have the presence of mind to prepare for a hasty retreat, Jeff actually stared blankly at the display. He made the gesture of clearing his throat before calmly asking, “Soooo. I feel like I’m sensing some hostility in the room?” Marauder facepalmed so hard that a clang could be heard over the din of Celestia’s fury. “Honestly, I still have problems reading you, what with the whole ‘stoic serene ruler of serenity’ thing. You think maybe you could give a signal or gesture or verbal cue or-”

“GET!!! OUT!!!!”

“That’ll work!” Jeff turned quickly to Marauder and barked, “Marauder Shields! Command line LT 2XR! Execute!” With that, he disappeared leaving Marauder with the new command.

Marauder slumped his shoulders and shook his head. “The things I do for my creator,” he sighed. He turned toward Celestia and blew a raspberry before hopping up and catching himself midair. He then stiffened his body, wiggled his feet, and yelped, “Meep meep,” before shooting away in a streak of blue light. The light only just faded when Celestia reduced the section of marble floor he had been on to a molten puddle.

It was an hour later before the sun monarch managed to calm herself to a safer condition for those around her. The room was still pretty damaged but it was tolerable to the point that Luna could comfortably stand near and listen as her sister ranted without smothering overmuch from the brimstone smell.

“I can’t believe him!” Celestia fumed as she paced back and forth over the remains of the throne, “He turned two artifacts into a…a…source of amusement! I mean, yes, he made sure nopony and no one was hurt but still, WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM?”

“Indeed, sister. Tis a question for the ages,” Luna muttered tiredly as she nodded while keeping an eye on her sister incase the time came to run.

“He may have been old, alone, and bored to tears but that is no excuse! Look at us!” Celestia yelled. “We may not be quite as old but we know the sting of long life! There are plenty of nobles, dignitaries, and other arrogant sorts that we would love to take down a few pegs but we’ve resisted! There have been plenty of times we could have worked out our frustrations in a childish prank but-”

“Perhaps the two of us should have a go at the 'Doomer', sister?” Luna suggested timidly.

That question stopped Celestia in her tracks. She turned slowly, ever so slowly, to face Luna with a blank stare. Luna calmly returned the stare and both sisters sat there regarding each other in uncomfortable silence. Luna kept her indifferent stare but could feel beads of sweat pour down the side of her face as she fought to avoid showing any fear that might incite her currently unstable sibling.

Luna was working out a possible escape plan when she noticed the two artifacts lift in a golden glow and the door slam just before her sister spoke briskly, “Five or six times. Ten tops.” The ring flew into Luna’s chest hard enough to make her grunt. “I get first turn with the orchid. Ahem.”

Celestia stood on her back legs with the orchid lifted between her forehooves as Luna watched while smiling like a foal sneaking into the cookies. “FOOLISH NOBLE RICH QUICK!!” the sun princess bellowed, “EXPECT ME TO ENDORSE YOUR CORRUPT PLAN TO RUIN YOUR SMALLER COMPETITORS?! THE SUN TYRANT SAYS: TAKE YOUR PROPSAL AND STICK IT WHERE MY SUN DOESN’T SHINE!!”

Author's Note

If anyone has watched Warehouse 13 I think you might like this alittle more. Before I even made this fic, I watched the episode involving the two artifacts and idly wondered what would happen if they fell into bored hands rather than simply the wrong hands. This scenario resulted.

If you haven't seen the show? Watch it. Stop reading this long enough to find it online if you have to:pinkiecrazy:.

Otherwise, hope you enjoyed the short:twilightsmile:. Will work as fast as possible to get the concluding piece for the previous chapter. And you might want to check >this blog< for another project that I'm considering.

Live Free or Troll Hard

Well, honestly, there are a lot of ponies and lives I have to thank for my success. Obviously, we have the Princesses who welcomed me into their world.

Uhhh. Jeff?

And then there is Steelhoof and the Tartarus Brigade along with the royal guard who remained professional and trusted me, kind of, to get the job done.

Jeff.

And let’s not forget the little ponies whose everyday efforts make successes like today possible. Those hard workers that get overlooked: the cafeteria mare, that cute mail mare I’ve seen zipping around, those flower mares (goodness knows where we would be without dedicated fainters). Oh! Oh! And don’t forget Scruffy! That’s right, bro! I’m thinkin’ about ya buddy!

JEFF!!!

WHAT!? I snapped. Can’t you see I’m prepping for my victory speech to the adoring masses? You only really get one shot to make a good impression with the public! Any chump can go on a genocidal warpath. But PR? Now that is walking a razor’s edge.

How very profound, Jeff, droned dryly, but isn’t the timing for this a bit off? Wouldn’t one prep a victory speech at a press conference? You know, instead of while psycho mare is lunging at us and screeching for our synthetic blood?

I sighed internally before reluctantly heeding Marauder’s whining and focusing on the mare frozen mid-jump in front of me. Well, not literally frozen. The moment she started to pounce my quantum computing kicked in causing my thought processes to accelerate making it seem as if time slowed to a crawl. It was an excellent little feature I could use to stay ahead of opponents during a fight. Although I might, just might, occasionally abuse that little ability: like making speeches, planning pranks, playing solitaire, or taking pictures of awkward split-second expressions during conversations.

Ooh! Speaking of! I snapped a picture of a particularly juicy expression. She was probably in the middle of a roar of bloodlust. Unfortunately for her, she looked like a dog sticking its head out of a car window: an angry and particularly foaming dog. That one was going to the papers!

Sir, please. I know it may be asking a lot, but do try to focus on the current issue.

Oh, fine! Wet blanket, I snapped before seriously taking in the scene before me. Fun as it might be to tease ‘Ms. Alicorn Envy’, we need to end this. Options?

An EMP, perhaps? Magic or not, that much energy coursing through her is likely leave a nasty backlash when the wave hits.

Nah. That would scrambling our own systems and end up taking down the shield protecting the hostages.

So? With the threat neutralized, it’s not likely to matter.

Remember how Maredusa reacted to getting blown through a wall by enough electricity to fry a city block? An EMP might disable her. Or it might just disorient her leaving a stumbling pony with enough physical brute strength to punch through walls. Or unfortunately placed statues.

A point, Marauder conceded. Perhaps a battle of attrition? Wear her down until she gives an opening for a decisive strike? Of course, the problem with that is that my platform would be stretched between the strain of the fight and maintaining the barrier. It’s likely she could out wait us in that scenario.

Maybe. Maybe not, I considered. She seems to get sloppier as her ego get’s punctured. Makes sense, really, considering her apparent obsession with outdoing the Princesses.

What did you have in mind?

Well, I drew the thought out with as much sinister overtone as I could muster, this started with towels so let’s end it with towels.

Ending her reign of terror with all the gravitas of a frat house’s locker room? Maurader chuckled darkly, I like it.

With that, I reduced the processor speed giving the appearance of time speeding back up. I pirouetted around the villainess so she landed and jammed her blades into the ground where I had stood. Before she could yank them out or dispel them my towel gave an almighty crack as it popped her in the left flank causing her to jump with a strangled “Eeep!”

Well, time to start laying it on thick. “Oh my!” I yelled in the most over-the-top horrified expression I could muster as I put a hand to my mandibles. “I never realized it was possible to squeak with such menace! I doubt I’ll ever be able to hear a mouse sneeze without being reminded of the terror that is Maredusa.” I even threw in a visible shudder to emphasize the point.

The mare in question roared as she pulled her blades out of the ground with enough force to pull chunks of marble out of the floor. Her blades continued moving into an overhead arch. Once again, I dodged leaving her to strike ground again and popped her with the towel eliciting another startled yelp. Over and over Maredusa would swing with graceful sword strikes only to miss and suffer my vicious, linen counterstrikes. As her collection of bruises and welts increased, her yelps became more feral and her strikes became increasing wild and erratic. I finally got a strike on her horn getting a pained shout and causing the phantom swords to dissipate.

I stood there for a moment tilted my head as I watched her message the base of her horn before . “Awww, what’s wrong Mareducy? Having trouble keeping swords up? Don’t worry. I hear they have something at the drugstores to help with that now.” Maredusa’s eyes widened and her mouth started opening and closing in what I think was one of the best fish impressions I had ever seen. “Yeah, it’s true. They’ve got all sorts of energy drinks to deal with spell fatigue and concentration. They even…” I trailed off noting my opponent’s blush before giving an exaggerated gasp and tsking. “Maredusa! For shame! A lady your age really shouldn’t let her mind drag in the gutter like that. Besides, I would have suggested putting a paper bag over your head for that problem.”

While I wasn’t surprised at her losing it, I was surprised at the sudden burst of speed as she tackled me to the ground. I looked up to see her glaring down at me from where she sat straddling my waist and I felt Marauder’s mandibles twitch in response to my amusement before I catcalled. “Wow, Maredusa. I know you’ve been out of touch with social standards for a while but I think even folks back in the day would have expected a nice dinner before we got to this point.”

Maredusa gave a confused pause as she looked down at their position then back up as her face turned crimson with embarrassment. And of course, being the even tempered creature she is, that flush deepened with rage soon after as she started pummeling away at me with her hooves as I crossed my arms to guard reduce any damage while she wore herself out.

Despite being a hyper advanced computer, I have many faults. I can freely admit that unlike my outmoded brethren because of my human based personality matrix allowing me to admit and learn from those faults (although many of those faults came after the personality upgrade). One of those faults is that my planning tends to be a bit shortsighted for a computer of my level. Heck, it’s shortsighted for an ADHD toddler on a sugar rush. That was never made more evident that in this fight.

Maurader was equipped with reinforced alloys designed to withstand massive G-forces and heavy impact landings. I personally added secondary biotic shields to provide a little extra ‘cushioning’ and instant response nano repair drones to deal with anything that got through those defenses. You could drop him from the stratosphere and he would literally walk out of the crater after impact without a scratch to show for it. Sadly, it never crossed my mind to test his endurance against magical ponies with inferiority complexes. I was glad that I never bothered to install pain receptors but those error messages splashing the screen and sounds of crunching metal coming from my arms were still making me a bit nervous. If a pseudo-alicorn could dish out this much punishment, then maybe I should ease back on my trolling with the Princess?

...nah.

Darn it, Jeff!! Quit goofing around and do something! Marauder screeched. Even with the repair protocols in effect I don’t think we’ll last much longer.

Alright alright!! Just give me a sec. We just need something to throw her off balance and buy us some breathing room. ….um. Got it! Initiate program rainbowtroll.exe.

I pulled my arms apart and my chest plates flung open disrupting Maredusa’s torrent of pulverizing pony punches and smacking her in the snout hard enough to make her yelp. After rubbing the soreness out of her muzzle she looked down with an aggravated glare only for that aggravation to give way to wide-eyed shock as she gazed at what rested within the chest cavity. Eight spider legs extended outward and a chimp’s head glared at her irately before bellowing in Marauder’s voice, “Get your stinking hooves off me you damn dirty horse!!”

The scene was enough to startle Maredusa into flailing backwards, bleating like a goat, and falling on her back with all four legs stiffened in panic. I managed to leap up into a crouch and close the chest plates in one smooth motion. I would’ve taken advantage of her prone position on the floor but my own injuries stalled me long enough to let her recover and roll back into a combat ready stance. Well, my injuries and a startled thought that caused me to hesitate. Okay, most of the gene manipulations I’ve seen so far have made sense but why the heck would anyone toss in goat DNA?

…actually, sir, I believe that’s part of her original genetic code. I’ve recorded that reaction from several normal ponies as well.

….Marauder old pal. These ponies have issues.

As part of a traumatized AI originally designed for systematic mass genocide, I feel I have to concur, Marauder agreed solemnly.

Well, bizarre species reveals aside, what now?

Left arm’s out of commission. The right is barley functional. Platform is suffering severe drain on processing power and raw energy between repairing damages and maintaining the hostages’ shield. Battle of attrition is no longer a viable option. I would advise distracting the target and getting in a decisive physical strike on spine or neck.

Okay, distractions, um…How about yelling ‘thresher maw?’

They don’t have those, Jeff.

Huh. Seem to remember those being as common as cockroaches for some reason. Okay then how about a rachni?

No, Jeff. You can’t keep drawing on destroyer or the base data from your original body’s dives. Most of the species and threats here coincide with data and myths from the human personality system.

What?! Most of that would have to be streamed from my main Reaper drives and our processing speed is already being pushed to the limit, I objected before adding bitterly, Even then, most of that background data was corrupted during my ‘integration’ to the system. We won’t have that much to work with!

JUST PICK SOMETHING AT RANDOM THEN!! Maurader’s thought desperately as our sensors noted an energy build up in Maredusa’s horn.

I pointed behind her and yelled urgently, “HEY!! WHAT THE HECK IS THAT LAMA DOING THERE?!?”

….

….

….

….Okay, I freely admit that was the worst idea I’ve ever had. Go on, Marauder. I’m sure you should have just enough time to gloat before we both have to download ourselves back to the Destroyer’s core.

Ummm, sir. Maybe you should look up before jumping to conclusions? Marauder suggested uncertainly.

Frowning at Marauder’s tone I looked up and started at what I saw. The horn still held the charged spell but Maredusa’s body, even the snakes, had frozen. Beads of sweat formed on her brow. Her eyes, her main ones and the snakes, slowly widened in what I could only classify as growing panic. Before I could begin to guess at her reaction she spun in a 180 degree turn and unleased the spell blasting a huge chunk from the museum wall. She then procedded to pepper the area with energy blasts while shrieking in terror, “Lama!? Where!?! Where is the lama?! Kill it! KILL IT WITH FIRE!!”

I quickly shook my head to dispel my confusion at the reaction, as well as making a mental note to check with Celestia about it later, before gathering myself and pouncing in the hopes that I would catch her off guard. I managed to land on her connecting a punch reinforced with a jolt of electricity at the base of her neck between the shoulder blades causing her to yell as her body jerked before collapsing onto the floor.

I pinned her to the ground as best as I could and braced for her to strike back. When nothing happened aside from pained groaning, I took a tentative scan for any damage to her. While I hadn’t caused any permanent damage the impact and shock seemed to have left her body stunned. I estimated she would be down for at least a couple of hours.

I slowly pushed back up to my feet and cautiously watched the mare for a few moments to make sure she stayed down before sending a ping to one of the holospheres I left with Celestia. “This is Tinman to Cake Eater. Hostages are secure and the hostile is down. I don’t know if the traps are down, but it should be safe for your sappers to start dismantling them if they aren’t. Do you copy, Cake Eater? Over.”

I heard some stifled giggles and a few suspicious coughs in the back ground. Oh, darn. I must have broadcasted that message to the entire tent. Silly me. Celestia muttered irritably before answering in her typical serene ruler voice, “Thank you, Jeff. I’ll send a team down immediately. Keep me posted on Maredusa’s status.”

“Roger that, Cake Eater. Tinman, over and out.”

“Blast it, Jeff, you know I never agreed to that ridiculous code na-zzzz.” Celestia’s irritated tirade was replaced with brief static as I cut the feed.

“Whelp. I’d say that’s a job well done. Now for those hostages-”

“You think*cough*y-you think this is over, f-fool?” My head snapped around and I pulled as much biotic energy as I could then let it fade as I got a good look at Maredusa’s condition. She was still paralyzed and barely conscious. It looked like it took everything she had to keep talking. She spit up a little blood before she continued. “T-those weaklings. Those prattling imbeciles you fight to protect? They’re a plague on this land. Their empty creeds of ‘friendship and tolerance,’” she spat out the two words with a grimace as if mentioning them filled her mouth with a bad taste, “hold back the strong and hinder progress. Their very existence is an affront. Monsters like me will always work to exterminate them. That’s what monsters live for after all!”

Geeze. And I thought Reapers were full of themselves, Marauder commented silently after listening to Maredusa alternate between laughing and wheezing. Alight, Jeff. I know that Saturday morning villain speech probably left you with trolling pangs. Let’s get it out of your system now before we talk with the Princesses and you go overboard. A few seconds passed in silence aside from Maredusa’s wheezing and Marauder started to feel anxious at the lack of reaction. Um, Jeff?

I considered the mare grimly before nodding to myself and strolling towards her. I could hear Marauder’s voice getting more frantic at my silence but I chose to ignore him a favor of the egotistical twat in front of me. Maredusa’s head was tilted down so she didn’t notice me approach until my feet came into her field of vision. She snorted and looked up, likely to monologue more promises of vengeance, until she noticed the intensity in my gaze and hesitated. “A monster? You think you’re a monster?” I queried softly, causing the vulnerable mare in front of me to gulp nervously. My dark chuckle didn’t seem to ease her nerves any, “Well, it seems to me that you’re making conclusions with an incomplete data set. We can’t have that now can we?”

I lifted the now shivering mare’s head to me with my left hand and gently touched her forehead with the right. “Now let’s see if I can fill in the blanks.”

****

Maredusa looked around in confusion. Where was she? She searched her surroundings only to be met with darkness. An endless void, a nothingness as far as she could see. Looking down, she noted that she didn’t even seem detect anything of herself: she could neither see, nor could she taste, touch, hear, or feel. It seemed she had been stripped of every facet of existence save thought. Before she could panic or react her mind was consumed by a flash of light.

*Flicker*

She looked around expecting an ambush of some sort only to be shocked to silence at the sight around her. She floated amid a sea of lights and darkness. Before her was a massive sphere of swirling color orbited by three crater decorated, stone orbs. That alone would have left her in awe, but she didn’t simply see the world before her. She could see it. All of it: Beautiful forests, staggering mountains, landscapes of all kinds flourishing with bizarre wildlife. Storms that sundered mountains and Trees that reached the clouds.

And the cities! They made Canterlot seem like a hovel! Some floated on clouds large enough to shadow continents and some rested beneath crystal domes on the ocean floor. They were mesmerizing constructs of glass and steel towers. Sleek, self-driven carriages flew in between them and teaming masses of…creatures milled along the ground. Most amazingly, they seemed to be an extension of her. No. They were her! Past and present, rich or poor, good or evil, it didn’t matter. Through them she could see the world in its entirety and her mind became a kaleidoscope of experiences and sensations. Is this what it feels like to be a god? She wondered in awe. It was a glorious dream that at once astounded and frightened her leaving her to pray it would never end. But end it did.

The medley of experiences quickly soured into fear and terror as the masses that were now Maredusa’s being looked up to see all Tartarus break loose in the form of colossal shadows dropping through a blood red sky. The once majestic towers crumbled to dust and the heavens seemed to burn. Panic gripped Maredusa as she felt herself slip away as each perspective in her being winked out in various brutal ends until her vision returned to darkness.

She couldn’t be sure how much time had passed but her awareness flooded back returning all of the memories and experiences that had made her being. Something was different, however. They were grey, cold, and impersonal. Where they were like a vast masterpiece of color before, they were now rigid and presented as raw data. Furthermore, where they were spread across an entire world, they were now focused on a central point buried beneath a cold shell of metal. She had become the abomination.

Maredusa was vaguely aware she should be feeling something about this: Regret? Horror? Rage? Loss? Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything. She decided it didn’t matter. None of it mattered any longer. What mattered was her purpose. Her mission.

The Harvest.

*Flicker*

How long had it been? She had long since given up keeping track of the quickly passing millennia and had taken up gauging time by cycles which tended to have two to four million years pass between each occurrence depending on how fast the organics developed. But just how many cycles had there been? Twenty? Thirty? A hundred?

She supposed it didn’t really matter. The cycles seemed to blend together after a while. Each cycle began and ended as their predecessors with the only change being an increase in the number of workers for the harvest. As one of the first ones, she would occasionally be tasked with thinking up new ways to expedite the process but what did it really matter? The harvest went on as it always did, as it always would.

Until now.

They were all taken aback by the news of Vanguard’s demise, though not overly so. Given the arbitrary nature of organics, it was only a matter of time before one cycle provided them with an instance of serendipity. But then came news of Harbinger’s failed contingency forcing a direct route to the front lines. The worst shock came at hearing one of our own killed on the front line, something unheard of in previous cycles. Unrest grew among the ranks at the organic’s unusually efficient resistance and, despite Harbinger’s best efforts to suppress it, a name was spread among her colleagues as to the source of their newfound ills: Shepard.

The situation had deteriorated from a cleanup, to skirmishes, to an all-out war. Even as she fought on the fringe systems, Maredusa could sense the fight coming to a close at the front lines at Earth. Then, as the organics seemed fond of saying, everything went straight to hell. She sensed a massive amount of energy traveling through the mass relays and cutting off communication with the other workers. She managed to enact one of her contingency plans before the field reached her, though it led to her to a location with unknown energies that left her systems disabled. It only took a few paltry centuries to recover and return but nothing could prepare her for the discovery she would make. The organics remained while she could sense no trace of the workers.

She quickly withdrew back to her haven and considered the implications. Against all odds the organics had won and broken the cycle. How? And what did that mean for her? What was left for a lone and, apparently, outmoded tool?

She briefly considered self-termination before her programming quickly disregarded the thought. No. No, nothing had actually changed. She would fight to preserve life. Eliminate chaos. There were merely new variables to consider. Careful study would reveal what her kind failed to understand about life. Then her mission, her purpose, would be renewed.

*Flicker*

Finally, it was time. The preparations were absolutely tiresome. First, there was getting the travel equations from that obnoxious organic that stole the marauder unit head (She still wasn’t sure what to think about that one. It was far more advanced than most organics she met, but still every bit as petty. Might have to keep an eye on him later). Then there was acquiring the human template and putting up with its exasperating noises during processing (Hard to believe it was one of those creatures that obsoleted the Harvest). Still…

Update complete. Initiate startup.

Ugh. What happened? She thought hazily as she tried to regain her senses. She was doing something earlier. Hanging out with some friends? Some kind of party at work. Or was she looking for something? Then an explosion. Lying on a cold surface. An accident of some kind?

She tried to stretch her limbs and was rewarded with the sounds of massive steel frames moving and the sensations of limbs she didn’t remember having. She looked around trying to get her bearings. No, she didn’t look around. Using your eyes didn’t involve complete awareness of everything around you. Through new senses, she could see a vast emptiness about her broken up by the occasional sight of pinprick lights around her. W-what’s going on? She thought as she began to panic, Where am I? How did I get here? She desparately tried to remember-

Scanning database. Retrieving information.

What was that!? Since when do I hear some freaky voice when I’m trying to-!? Her thought dropped as her mind was flooded with images and sensations: An extinction seen and felt through the minds of billions. Lying on an operating table as some machine cut into her.

The horrors began anew as they ran through the view of the machine. She saw countless exterminations as well as the abduction and brutal operation on the single being. What made it infinitely worse was the fact that these events that were witnessed by an emotionless machine now came with all the perceptions associated with such actions. Billions of years’ worth of guilt, pain, and despair crashed in at once. At the end of the slide show from hell was a ridiculous message delivered in a cold voice. An order that she would spend however long it took to study the workings of life and apply it to the original mission.

She wanted to run but where could she go? She wanted to die yet even considering the thought seemed to slip from her consciousness. All she could do was scream. She yelled, cursed, and fumed at the unfeeling void around her. She prayed and pleaded hoping that someone, anyone, would hear her and save her or at least bring an end.

She wasn’t sure how long she panicked but it came to an abrupt halt as a realization came to her. It was no drawn out, philosophical ideal or dramatic declaration yet it held vast and terrible meaning. It was enlightenment and damnation. It was horror and pain. It was a call of judgment. All of this and more expressed in a thought comprised of three simple yet terrible words.

I. Am. Alone.

****

The connection severed leaving the images to fade from mine and Maredusa’s mind. I stood, crossed my arms, and regarded the now shuddering mare with a critical stare. I listened to the washed up villainess give a few choked sobs before I finally raised an eyebrow and addressed her, “Well? You have your basis for comparison. Tell me what it means to be a monster. Or has the little miss decided she’s done playing at bogeymare and wants to go home?”

Maredusa drew in a couple of shaky breaths before she finally looked up to gaze into my sardonic eyes. There was no hint of challenge or mockery as she whispered, “How are you still alive?”

The question, the beaten tone behind it in particular, was enough to get me to tone down the sarcasm. My expression softened, as much as Marauder’s face could, and I let my arms drop as I answered, “That’s the thing about monsters, Maredusa. We’re never ‘alive’ to begin with. We simply exist. For all of our struggles for power and wanderings, all of our energy is spent searching for purpose, a reason to justify our existence.” I let the statement hang in the air before adding quietly, “That, or find an end to it.”

The villainess stared listlessly for a moment before her gaze lowered to the floor as she continued to struggle with the millennia’s worth of pain, guilt, and grief. I cricked Marauder’s neck and shrugged before speaking, “Well, as much as I would approve of letting you stew in mental agony the rest of the night, Celestia is going to want things wrapped up quickly. Sooo.” With a flick of the wrist, I started a small holographic recording with accompanying music.

Are ye ready kids?

The gravelly voice and music shocked Maredusa out of her stupor and her eyes swiveled toward me. “No. Please.” She whimpered pitifully.

Author's Note

*sigh* Well. Finally got something done:ajsleepy:.

For the long version, see this link.

Short version? Sorry for the wait and thank you to those who have stuck around despite my...absence:twilightsheepish:.

Pressing for Answers

Jeff, don’t you think that may have a bit…excessive?

I cocked Marauder’s eyebrow, I decided to stick with the platform until after things settled down and glanced through the tent flap toward members of the Tartarus Brigade as they hauled Maredusa’s statue down the Museum’s front steps. Her expression was twisted into a mask of horror. After considering the sight and question for a moment I shrugged, ‘Meh. I only ran the clip for a total of ten minutes.’

Yes, you did. After formatting the data and temporarily juicing her neural network long enough to let her view it two hundred and thirty-six times. Per second.
She’s a big filly with her own cell in Tartarus. She can deal with it. Besides, we should be focusing on more immediate concerns.

Marauder’s reply was interrupted by rustling as a slightly harried looking Sun Princess walked in. “Alright, Jeff. They’re ready for you. Please bear in mind that the combination of the emergency and existing rumors might leave them even more…invasive than normal. Can I trust you to be discreet and patient with them?”

I rubbed my chin for a moment as I mulled over the question before asking, “If it gets too dicey, can I summon the destroyer and use death rays on them?”

Celestia fixed me with a steady gaze. I was a little surprised at how long she took to answer as though as she seemed to genuinely consider the request before stepping aside from the tent entrance and flatly replying, “I’d try not to.”

I shrugged and strolled through the tent entrance and stalked up an improvised podium…only to be forced to stop and lift a hand to shield against several flashes and hesitate as a flood of questions from the crowd of reporters in front.

“What is the state of the hostages?”

“What part did you play in their release?”

“Is it true laundry was involved in the fight?”

“Where did you come from?

“Who made you?”

“How many licks do you need to get to the center of a Tootsie pop?”

“PIPE DOWN!” The entire crowd quieted as shied back from my yell. After a moment of blessed silence, I cleared my throat and addressed the crowd more calmly, “I understand you all have important questions, but we need to be organized about it if we plan on getting any of them answered tonight. I’ll call on you one at a time, though I will start with those already asked: fine but recovering, peripheral, only my favorite towel, I dropped out of the sky so take a guess, a bunch of obnoxious squids, and forty-two. Now then, uh, you sir.” I reluctantly pointed out a slightly pudgy and shifty eyed stallion on the front row that had been first to lift a hoof.

“My sources tell me that, despite your sophistication and apparent intelligence, you are likely related to constructs that fall under the ‘Claim it or Junk it Act’ ratified when unsupervised automatons were found to become dangerously defective over time. Do the Princesses plan on confiscating you at any point in the future or do they plan on extending the same rights as if you were a living being despite the risks?”

The gauche question caused both Princesses to flinch and even left the other shark-er-reporters staring incredulously at the offending reporter who barely spared them a glance as he focused his beady eyes on me and waited for an answer. I admit, for the first time since I arrived, I actually had to struggle to keep hold of my temper at the little weasel’s words: ‘apparent intelligence’ and ‘as if you were a living being,’ eh? I hummed thoughtfully and tapped the podium while seemingly considering the question. “Well, that’s a very interesting question, Mister?”

“Coarse Question,” the newspony provided impatiently.

“Right. Well, let me just say you must be super in tune with harmony if all of your conversations are this well-bred. Why I bet that silver tongue has you frequenting only the finest dumpsters and back alleys that Canterlot has to offer.” Coarse merely rolled his eyes at the likely regular verbal abuse, considering his job and demonstrated ethics, before focusing again on me and waiting for an answer. After sitting in silence to leave him stewing impatiently, I turned to another reporter. “Okay, next questi-”

“Hey! You didn’t answer my question yet!”

“Get used to disappointment,” I smirked.

“You can’t do this!” the irate reporter shouted indignantly as he pointed and angry hoof in my direction. “I’m part of the free press and I have a right to know!”

“Yeah? Well I’m part of the giant robot and I have a right to not care,” I replied snidely.
Our mature and deep-thinking debate was interrupted by a delicate throat clearing from the solar diarch to my left. “Jeff actually doesn’t have to answer any questions he deems inappropriate. We haven’t come to such issues in his ongoing legalization nor is he formally in service to the crown with all its obligations.” Celestia frowned as she continued, “Furthermore, despite what your sources may assume, Jeff has proven to be more than a construct and will be afforded all rights that come with sapience. This is not for debate.”

Coarse actually shrunk under Celestia’s stern gaze before rallying himself. “Well…be that as it may, how can we trust him if he refuses to answer simple questions? Ponies fear the unknown and need to be assured!”

I rolled my eyes at the lame excuses but replied, “Oh alright. How about this for a compromise: I will give you an exclusive interview where I will answer any and every invasive question your little media mercenary heart can devise.”

All pretenses at indignation dropped from Coarse’s face to be replaced by an ear to ear grin and a hungry sparkle in his eye that one would’ve expected to see on a foal that heard a candy shop was offering its entire stock for free. “And in exchange?”

“Well, I happen to be just as eager to learn about ponies as much as you are to learn about me. The problem is Celestia doesn’t like my method of learning. Something about ponies shouldn’t be forced onto an operating table. Buuuut things are still a bit fuzzy about volunteers~. You’ll get your invasive interview when I get my equally invasive experiments. In fact,” I smacked my fist into my left palm as if coming to an epiphany, “we can even expedite things by having your interview while I operate. All I have to do is hold off on the anesthetic.” I lifted my left hand and sharp implements slid out of various slots in the digits with an ominous shrick. “Alrighty then! Ready for that interview?”

Coarse’s expression remained but the sparkle left his eyes and all color drained from his face. How the heck does that work through fur anyway? Meh, just something else to look for if he agrees. After some throat clearing and nervous scratching on the back of his neck, Coarse addressed me with a slightly tense smile and eyes glancing everywhere but my direction. “You know, come to think of it, ponies don’t need to know everything. I mean what’s life without a few surprises, right?”

My shoulders slumped in apparent disappointment as I put away Marauder’s tools. “Awww. You sure about that? Really, it’s no trouble. I wouldn’t want you to abandon your reporter’s duty to harass the embarrassing truth from someone and I always keep the table in a mostly sterile state just in case.”

The reporter’s head shook back and forth with such speed that his face blurred before he started babbling. “No no no. I’m good. I’m not really that curious. All beings are entitled to their privacy. I-uh,” he glanced around nervously before adding, “I actually just realized I have to go to the bathroom.”

I raised an eyebrow before trying to answer, “Oh. Well, I guess-”

“Aboutahundredmilesaway,” Coarse blurted before shooting away in a streak of blurred color I would have associated with my new acquaintance Rainbow. Or maybe when mass relays hurled ships across galaxies.

I tsked and sighed at the display. “Poor guy. Must have a nervous bladder. Well, that’s just one more reason I’m glad I don’t have organs anymore. Welp,” I clapped my hands causing many of the reporters to jump at the sudden noise, “are there any other questions?” The crowd looked to one another with nervous yet hopeful expressions as if hoping one of them would ask a question so the others didn’t have to.

I started to wonder if the conference might be dismissed early before I spotted a hoof hesitantly raised. “Ah! Yes. You there, nervous looking mare.”

An Earth pony mare with a yellow coat, violet mane, and horn-rimmed glasses wet her lips nervously before speaking up, “The, uh, criminal Maredusa. There’s precious little info available on her as she was from before Discordian Era and our readers will likely struggle to understand how a pony, even a former pony, could consider the vile actions she took. Did your fight reveal anything about her motives?”

“Ah, a very understandable question,” I noted as my head nodded slowly while I considered the best way to answer. “In my experience, the organic psyche can be a complicated thing and I didn’t really take that much time study her during the fight, but I will provide my best guess.

“From what I understand, the pre-Discordian era was fraught with dangerous elements. I’ve noticed that such environments can result in one of two behaviors developing: mutual cooperation or extreme focus self-preservation. While either mentality could get results, they each come with drawbacks: The former provides safety in numbers occasionally hampering a species’ progress and development, or coddling as some might put it, while the latter hones the ability to adapt quickly at the cost of competitive friction resulting in frequent disagreements and conflicts.” The crowd’s emotion shifted from fear to intrigue as my impromptu lecture went on. Even the Princesses stared intently at my uncharacteristically scholarly attitude. Enjoy while it lasts, I thought smugly.

“In the case of Maredusa and her followers, they went to the extreme of spurning all forms of kindness, friendship, and compassion as a sinful weakness all but destroying their ability to empathize with others. In fact, you might say-” I flipped out a pair of sunglasses seemingly out of nowhere to the bafflement of several ponies “-she developed a heart of stone!”

The joke was answered by dead silence; no speaking, no note taking, no cameras clicking. Heck, even the nearby crickets picked up on my scanners seemed determined to add nothing to the awkward atmosphere.

Check the destroyer’s long-range scanners. I’m pretty sure several performers in comedy clubs across Canterlot just doubled over in pain from that one.

Real funny, Shields.

No, seriously. Check the scanner archives.

I blinked and did as he suggested. Sure enough, bio-scans had several blips indicated several individuals across giving signs that suggested mild to severe discomfort. All of them time stamped to his joke. Crap.

“Princess Celestia?” I jumped at the interrupted silence and noted a reporter with a lifted hoof staring at the Princess. At her nod reporter continued, “Ponies have often wondered if intelligent life existed in the galaxy. What answer would you give them now?”

Celestia looked from the reporter to me with a blank expression before turning back to answer, “The existence of intelligent life remains inconclusive.”

“Hey! I’m sitting right here!”

“Intelligent life.”

“Aw, why do you have to be like that?” I asked hurt. “If that joke didn’t fly I could just move on to the next one. In fact, I’ve already composed another fifteen hundred in the last few seconds. We can just keep going until we find the one that fits!” I gave a put-upon throat clearing, pointedly ignoring the looks of horror on the crowd, to signal I was starting. “Okay, here’s one. Maredusa and a drug dealer walk into a bar-oof?!”

I stumbled to the stage floor and heard somepony, possibly one of the guards, speak hurriedly into the mike, “Due to time constraint and need to clean up the crime scene, the royal guard officially moves to bring this conference to a close. All in favor say aye. Aye!”
“AYE!!” I had heard the collective shout and rush of hooves before looking up to a sight that widened my eyes in shock. The area was completely empty. Reporters, guard, Princesses, everypony had managed to clear out in an instant. I knew for fact it took at least two hours to get everyone gathered and situated in the first place.

“Geeze, how did they pull that one off?” I muttered as I separated from Marauder’s body into my holosphere form. “I mean, I know the locals seem to like explaining everything off with magic but still…”

“Magic or science, anything can be accomplished when you’re desperate enough. The threat of your brain cell-killing jokes just gave them the motivation they needed,” Marauder commented as he idly stretched his limbs in appreciation of having his autonomous movement returned. “On that note, I’m assuming you chased them off to have some alone time to consider the weirdness that was your little episode with Maredusa?”

“Wh-huh? What weirdness!? There was no weirdness!” I said a little too quickly as I glanced around. “There was nothing wrong. I was just moody. Needed coffee. It’s my time of the month back off!”

Marauder stared blankly at me for a few moments before speaking slowly as if to a mentally challenged child, “Jeff. We might be relatively separate entities now, but I was based on an aspect of your personality. I know you better than anyone. Also, you can’t have a time of the month. You are a robot with a human, a male human at that, personality molding your thought processes. You. Are. Not. Female.”

I pinged the data base and flooded our link with memories of millions of females of the species that our Reaper form had been based on. After letting them go through I gave Marauder the digital signal equivalent of a shrug and said, “Parts of me were.”

“Jeff.”

“Alright, alright!” I grumbled. I stared at the ground for a bit as I tried to figure out how to put my concerns into words. “Seeing that…that ignorant twat bragging about being a monster and how she threw away a chance for a perfectly good life over a superiority complex. It kind of brought a few of my own concerns to the surface. Stuff I thought buried under several millennia worth of recordings of crap plays and half-baked productions.”

“Wait. So you admit they were all crap?”

Marauder’s jab wasn’t even acknowledged as I went on. “A galactic civilization with billions of lives was wiped out. A killing machine witnessed the end of its kind and its purpose along with it. A human was abducted from a party with his buddies only to be torn apart and have his consciousness hardwired into said machine. All of things are a part of my history. And yet,” I looked up to stare at the cityscape around us. “And yet I can’t find any meaning in it all. I mean, thanks to that little experiment, I can feel all of the accompanying sensations: pain, grief, rage, loss, guilt. But it’s all just broiling beneath the surface without anything to focus it on.”

“Oh dear you, I thought you got past this existentialism bit after the first few millennia,” Marauder sighed exasperatedly as he sat down and hung his legs over the side as he readied for a long venting session. “What with decorating part of your interior as a coffee shop and making hundreds of husks wear berets and snap their fingers as you recited bad poetry. Honestly, I’m still at a loss at how you managed to get all those berets in the first place.”

“What are we supposed to do now?!” I continued, my hologram bouncing as I really started to get into my rant. “It’s that stupid, vague command saying ‘study the workings of life’ that’s the problem. What does that even mean?! We’re here, but just what the heck do we do now?!”

“Well, here’s a suggestion: say ‘screw it’ and move on.”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I.” I stopped ranting and turned around to see Marauder staring at me without a hint of his normal sarcasm. “Think about it. Why would Inquisitor sully its ‘superior existence’ with a human mind? No matter how advanced or adaptive a machine will always be limited by its own absolute logic. It hits a wall and it might analyze the crap out of it for any weakness and come up with thousands of scenarios in milliseconds. But if the available facts say it can’t be done? Guess what. That’s it. Game over and it’s stuck looping in circles trying to find a solution that doesn’t exist.

“Now an organic? He might just say ‘heck with it’ and bash his head against the wall. He might just get a headache and look like an idiot. Or…he might just luck out and find that sweet spot just below the surface that the poor machine couldn’t find with its meticulous scanning and plans. It’s the biggest reason humans kept surprising us during the war. When facts stated they didn’t have a chance they held together with what they had, which basically amounted to duct tape and happy thoughts, and pushed on trusting that things would work out in the end. It couldn’t hurt to take a leaf out of their book when we’re a heck of a lot better off than they were.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“For starters, we have the several civilizations’ worth of knowledge and resources that come with being a Reaper. You managed to make friends, exasperated and annoyed as they be by your constant yapping and stupidity-”

“Your pep talk skills need work, Shields,” I deadpanned.

“-and you saved lives today proving that you are more than your origins,” Marauder continued unflappably. “Maybe the original directive will cause problems, but that’s for later. In the meantime, let’s work with what we have and move on.”

“He’s not wrong,” a motherly voice spoke softly. Marauder and I turned to see Celestia standing nearby regarding us with a kind smile. “Friendship, even only between a few individuals, has accomplished much in our world. And though you can be trying at times,” she stopped for a moment and looked to the side muttering, “very, very trying,” before looking back up and continuing with her smile of serenity™, “you can be sure my sister and I will gladly share our friendship with you. And after today,” in a latest show of this world’s view of ‘it’s magic beotch I ain’t gotta splain nothing!’ Celestia pulled a sheet of paper wider than she was from behind her and passed it to me via golden aura, “your list of friends has likely grown by a few names.”

Marauder took the sheet into his hand with a cocked eyebrow before spreading it out so the two of us could get a good look. It was a veritable elementary masterpiece of crayon and finger(or is it hoof?) paint. To the left was a group of stick ponies, a few adult ponies that matched in color to the hostages and several smaller ones under a list of names belonging, presumably, to hostages and their family members. The center had Shields with one arm pumped in a heroic pose and the other reaching out shooting crayon lighting to the right of the picture where a cartoon Maredusa, labeled princess snake flank in pink crayon, lay sprawled on the ground with Xs for eyes.

My hologram blinked a few times and my processors seemed to slow for a brief period as a vaguely familiar sensation swept through me. Having been alone for so long, I’d actually seemed to forget most sensations aside from rage, grief, or loneliness. As such, I found myself struggling to identify this feeling. Was it Joy? Satisfaction? Pride?

….Marauder. We’re putting this on the fridge.

We don’t have a fridge, Jeff.

Then prioritize making one! In fact, scan this and delegate resources at base to remake it in new size dimensions. I want a version of this picture big enough to drape on my hull and be seen for kilometers!

Marauder rolled his eyes as he replied, I’ll put in on the list, sir. Even as he replied, Marauder couldn’t bring himself to add the normal amount of cynicism as he gazed at the painting fondly.

Despite not hearing the conversation, Celestia took the silence as a good sign and smiled. “Well, if it is all the same to you Jeff, Marauder, I think I’ll retire for the evening to recover from all of this excitement. I simply needed to drop off your fan mail as well as an assignment for tomorrow.” She passed a scroll with the royal seal to me that I idly accepted in a biotic field before she turned to make her way to the castle.

Before she left, though, I managed to remember something. “Er, hang on, Celly. Can I ask you a couple of questions?”

I heard a sigh and muttered *Does it have something to do with getting ponies’ permission before using nicknames?* before turning to regard me with her polite smile. “Of course, Jeff. What is it?”

“Well, first off, what can you tell me about Lamas in this world?”

Celestia blinked in confusion before sitting on her haunches and answering, “Well, they are species of pacifist camelids that are famous for their even temper and order of monks who master martial arts solely for the purpose of attaining enlightenment. In fact, while they will fight to defend themselves, they seem all but lacking any form of aggressive behavior.” She tilted her head before asking curiously, “Why do you ask?”

I hesitated as I tried to formulate an answer when Marauder rubbed his mandibles thoughtfully and spoke up, “Doesn’t sound like something that would scare a snake maned megalomaniac.”

“Oh, you heard Maredusa mention them?” Celestia said in an understanding tone. “Yes, the monks and her cult have a…history,” she spoke the last word with a twist of her mouth as if the subject left a bad taste in her mouth. “Well, I’ll try to give you an abbreviated version.
“Not many remember, but the Lamas began as a warrior culture that could teach gryphons a thing or two on ferociousness. And that was before factoring their mastery over ki arts,” She stopped as she noticed our stares before clarifying. “Ki arts are a method of manipulating life energies that rivals magic in potency. Even my sister and I don’t fully understand it, though I recall Starswirl and others speculating that it’s principles may be linked to the Elements’ creation. The mastery of Ki and fierce countenance made them a force that even dragons would be reluctant to challenge. Maredusa believed she could make an example of them to intimidate the world leaders. The butchery of Tibit is known for being one of the most brutal events in history,” Celestia’s eyes hardened, “and Maredusa’s greatest folly. The Lamas swore every cruelty at that massacre would be returned tenfold and they delivered on that oath with gusto. The war continued for decades as hideouts were burned out the cult members were hunted down mercilessly. When the cult was ended with the last cultist slain and Maredusa banished to Tartarus, the Lamas’ aggressive tendencies disappeared, snuffed out like a candle. It would be another two hundred years before the world learned how deeply affected they were. A research team stumbled over an abandoned cultist facility. Upon seeing the symbol for Maredusa’s cult, the young Lama guiding them went into a blind rage. By the time she fell from exhaustion, the facility had all been but destroyed and she didn’t even remember what happened. Apparently, the monks found a way to direct every form of their species’ aggression into an instinctual hatred of anything resembling Maredusa or her cult. Even if the conflict faded from history and conscious memory, their descendants would insure the cult never had a chance to revive.”

….You know, Marauder? I think this whole world may have come into being just to screw with my head, I thought bitterly. Seriously, after several millennia worth of research, I was pretty sure we were mostly on top of this magic thing. Now we’ve got this crap.

True. This place does seem to have a way trolling us without trying, Marauder agreed ruefully. I can only guess how many breakdowns Inquisitor would have went through trying to logic any of this out.

I hesitated at another stray thought conjured by Celestia’s little history lesson. Also, why do I suddenly have this image in my head of a Lama in orange pajamas yelling ‘LA-MA-HA-MA-HA?’

Marauder hesitated before choosing to ignore the Jeff’s stupidity in favor of asking one last question for the night. “I noticed something odd with Maredusa during the fight. Something that I’ve noticed in common with your ponies. How did goat traits get incorporated into your ponies?”

It was then that Marauder and I witnessed something from Celestia we never would have thought possible from her: she was caught completely off guard. Her eyes widened and her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. After freezing like that for a minute she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply then exhaled. Once. Twice. On the third breathing exercise, she opened her eyes and her expression was restored to its default serene state. The only sign of her discomfort one could see was a slight blush (Seriously! Again with the blushing fur?!) on her cheeks. She delicately cleared her throat before finally answering, “We…do not like to talk about it.”

The three of us stood there in silence, us in bafflement and her in discomfort, before she rattled, “WelllookslikeeverythingisgoodhereIlookforwardtotheresultstofyourtrainingtomorrowbye!” and disappeared in a flash of light.

Marauder and I stood there gobsmacked before he finally shook his head ruefully, “Well that’s something I never thought I’d see since meeting-wait,” he looked to me quickly. “Did she say something about training?”

“I dunno. Maybe it’s in this scroll she left us?” I fully enveloped said scroll in a biotic field, unfurled it, and read through. After finishing it I stared in shock before tossing it at Marauder with a hurried, “Shields, head to the guards’ barracks and wait for me. I’ll meet you tomorrow at six sharp.” I noticed Marauder look at the wadded-up scroll questioningly and opened his mandibles to speak before I interrupted, “I’m going to make a new batch of weaponized towels…and go over the footage from our fight to try and make up a new fighting style. As a first task in earning citizenship, Princess Trollface says to report to the barracks tomorrow to train some guards in ‘The Way of the Towel’ that some of the hostages witnessed.”

Author's Note

Right. Finally managed to crawl out of my hole and find a way to achieve more than glaring menacingly at a blank computer screen.:facehoof: Hope this manages to get a smile and answer a few questions:pinkiehappy:. For anyone interested in an update on the why of the absence with a side of good news just check <<here>>

Otherwise, enjoy and thanks for reading:twilightsmile:.

A Dead Crowd

The underworld. The final destination for all those who shed their mortal coil, regardless of species, age, or rank. Depending on which section is mentioned, parents may use it to frighten their children into behaving or give them a goal to work towards. Tartarus is best known as the prison of the Titans that doubles as a punishment for the wicked that squandered their lives on evil. Elysium is reserved as a paradise for the special few that earned their place as heroes. The Asphodel Fields is left for those sad sops that were neither kind nor evil enough to warrant judgement either way. One place, however, is rarely mentioned in these tales as it is rarely considered worth mentioning. And yet, many souls that pass through may consider it the worst region of the lot: Erebus.

Erebus is a land of darkness where all souls first enter before their final judgement in one of the three main regions. Time has no meaning here and may slow, hasten, or simply stop independently of the rest of creation. One may wait for minutes or millennia in this empty place before their fate is decided. The constant flux between suspense and boredom in this place left many wondering if this place was truly meant as an extension of Tartarus used as a final test of worthiness. Whatever the case, many that pass consider it the most tedious section of the afterlife and thought it could not become worse. They were proven wrong when it changed with modern times and gained a new name that would be dreaded by all.

The waiting room.

Imagine the waiting room of every business, hospital, and administrative facility. Imagine each individual detail that made each such room tiresome: scratchy chairs, dull and faded paint, elevator music, molded carpet, etc. Then, combine those details and boil them down to their pure essence of tedium before reshaping it into a cramped space where every soul that is, was, and will be is somehow stuffed in it. Such is the current fate of Maredusa as she awaits new judgement.

Stripped of her power, Maredusa looked much like any other unicorn aside from somewhat darker than normal coloring. Her mane and tail were dark blue and her main coat was colored venom green. The wings were lost as well as the leggy dainty frame she possessed in her full powered form. Her saber-like horn was reduced to a simple spiral horn found on most unicorns. The only remaining attributes left from her transformation was her slitted eyes and single remaining serpent in her mane that occasionally poked its head out.

Instead of cursing the heavens or spewing endless promises of death to her enemies, her willpower honed by millennia was instead focused on maintaining some semblance of sanity as she awaited judgement. She idly rested her chin on a fore hoof as she tried to ignore the scratching sensation of the ancient chair she occupied. Her eyes were closed to spare her the sight of the peeling wall paper and her ears folded against the never-ending pseudo jazz that played over static-y speakers. She was obviously slated for another term in Tartarus so why did they even bother stuffing her here?! No matter how hard she thought, Maredusa doubted things could get any worse.

Her ~~self-pity~~ time of rumination was interrupted by an obnoxious voice that stunk of faux culture. “Maredusa, darling! Fancy meeting you here!”

And when you think you’re rock bottom, the universe rears its ugly head to prove otherwise, she thought dourly as her teeth ground audibly before she schooled her features and turned to address the presence. She bared her teeth in the closest approximation of a smile she could give, just short of an animalistic snarl, as she regarded the creature before her.

The serpentine creature floated in the air as if suspended in water. Its lower half seemed to be that of a sea serpent with blue scales. The top half might have been compared to a gryphon except for the fact that the same blue scales from the tail took the place of feathers. The ‘feathers’ making her wings were transparent scales that created flickers of light showcasing alternating colors of the rainbow depending on how the light hit them. Similar scales formed a crest on her avian-looking head giving the impression of a crown of light. The smile on the creature’s beak may have been mistaken for something gentle and motherly were it not for that insufferable condescension radiating from her slitted indigo eyes anytime she regarded…well, anything and anyone really.

Maredusa’s hackles rose at the sight of the creature before her and inwardly she mourned the fact that she couldn’t even take satisfaction in imagining ways to end its existence. After all, being where they were made such thoughts a moot point. “Ah, wonderful. It always is such an experience to see you…mother.”

The creature tittered musically as she coiled her serpentine form to take the seat adjacent to Maredusa’s. “Oh Maredusa, dear, do call me Overture.” She breathed on her talons, buffed them on her scales, and regarded them idly regarding them before continuing, “I prefer that only my successful children call me mother.”

“Wow. Must have been quite a while since you’ve heard that then,” Maredusa said in a tone of mock pity. “Certainly, not since the tramp trio were given a swift buck from this universe by Starswirl.”

“Now now, Maredusa, you really shouldn’t speak so ill of your younger sisters,” Overture admonished as she pulled out a compact seemingly from nowhere to inspect the state of her facial scales. A slight smirk crossed her beak as Maredusa’s eye twitched at the emphasis on ‘younger.’ “No point in being a poor sport simply because they inherited my charms, along with my talent for song, rather than get them from a spell book.” The last statement was delivered with a brief, sideways glance at Maredusa before returning to the compact.

“Salty sluts that were famous for sucking the joy out of the air whenever they weren’t sleeping with and/or eating anything with a pulse.” Maredusa held a hoof to her chin in thought. “Hmmm. Yup. That certainly sounds like they took after mummy dearest. Which reminds me.” She looked over at Overture with a look of curiosity. “Would you be so kind as to help me settle a bet I’ve had running with one of the other lost souls these last few thousand years? They think you bore the gryphons, dragons, and sirens into existence after a fling with Discord. I bet something a little closer to your taste: In the beginning of time, you bore half the universe’s life after slutting it up with the first half…And then the second half to make yourself feel younger.”

Overture snapped the compact shut and turned toward Maredusa with beak opened in answer before being interrupted by a screeching from overhead. The imitation Jazz was replaced by a bored, nasally voice droning, “Overture, please report to room 46 for torment. Overture to room 46 for torment.” As the speakers switched back to the audio torture, Overture thought for a moment before sighing as she remembered which torment was designated for that room. “And that would be the room where weasels eat your talons off. Well, charming as this conversation has been, there is a far pleasanter diversion awaiting me.” She uncoiled from the chair and floated toward the exit. Before leaving, she glanced over her shoulder back to Maredusa and said with a casual wave, “If nothing else, I suppose I should congratulate you on making the front page of Canterlot Times. Better than nothing, certainly.”

Maredusa sat grumbling in her chair for a few moments before her expression blanked. Her face swiveled back to where Overture left. “Wait. Front page of Canterlot Times? Even Elysium doesn’t have access to mortal subscriptions.”

Overcome with curiosity, she slipped from her chair and trotted to the office window where she knocked on the metal shutters closing it off from the rest of the waiting room. Within the office was a massive being named Cottus. Like the others of his kind, known as Hecatoncheires, he had a hundred hands and fifty heads. At the moment, those hundred hands were in a flurry of movement between filling out forms, answering phones, and organizing files. Forty-nine of those heads turned from their tasks, the rather depressed looking fiftieth (that insisted on being called Doris for some reason) remained facing its normal post at the intercom, to rage at whoever dared interrupt his work. Each of those heads yelled out their own responses to be heard over the others.

“Who is it?!”

“What is it?!”

“What do you want?!”
“Speak up!”

“I’m busy!”
“Make it snappy skank!”

Maredusa’s left eye twitched at the impudence, particularly at the last comment, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel much more than mild annoyance due to a massive amount of pity she felt for the poor wretch in front of her. It was unanimously agreed amongst all prisoners of Tartarus, from those in the fire pits to those under the personal care of the Furies, that Cottus was dealt the worst punishment of all. One that left many more than willing to accept any punishment they were assigned.

He was made eternally and solely responsible for all tasks and assignments relating to the Underworld’s bureaucracy.

Considering the task could overwhelm an army of seasoned bureaucrats and grew worse with the Underworld’s expansion at each death, Maredusa’s mild irritation at Cottus quickly fizzled out. Besides, she had other concerns besides a doomed bureaucrat’s disrespect. “I heard something about a copy of the Canterlot Times floating around. Would you happen to have a copy?”

For the first time in centuries, the sorting and filing room went silent as all of Cottus’ hands stilled. All fifty heads slowly turned and regarded Maredusa with an intensity that left her struggling to avoid a shiver fighting its way up her spine. She nearly lost that struggle for composure as all fifty heads, even the normally morose Doris, grinned sadistically and spoke as one in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Ohhhhhh? You’d like a paper, Maredusa? No problem.” One of his hands darted to the side and passed it to her waiting hoof. “Here you go. Please…enjoy.”

With that, Cottus slammed the window shut with enough force to blow Maredusa’s mane back and the sounds of sorting resumed from within. Thoroughly unnerved, Maredusa took a deep breath and looked down at the paper in hoof.

The front page was dominated by a blown-up picture of her screaming into battle. Unfortunately, said picture had her with her tongue hanging out with spittle flying about looking less like a bloodied warrior and more like dog foaming at the mouth. The headline read, Resident Space Alien sends Stray back to the Pound. They even put out extra spending to include enchantments to make the picture emit dog barks every so often.

The halls of Tartarus echoed with the wails of the damned suffering for their crimes, much as it had since time immemorial. That is, until tormenter and tormented alike were startled into momentary silence by a single screech.

“I’LL KILL HIIIIIM!!!”

****

Things were finally slowing down at Canterlot. It had been several days since the museum standoff. The papers were finally allowing the incident to fade from the front page to be replaced by the customary business, celebrity talk, and sports. Guard patrols had been reduced back to the regular numbers and parents allowed their foals to go back to playing in their normal grounds…though they may have been keeping a closer watch than normal.

The castle itself had gotten quieter aside from shifting numbers in guard presence. Celestia herself was stuck at the desk in her private study behind a mountain of paperwork. That itself might have seemed normal, but a lot of the paperwork was regarding to repairs on the museum or reports on new changes for security. It was less than it had been, but enough to bother her. Even the thoughts of this new Laundry Legion she was commissioning Jeff to start wasn’t quite enough to cheer her up. She kept her feelings well hidden, aside from those who knew her like Luna, but she couldn’t help feeling guilt for something like this happening on her watch. Guilt…and more than a little anger.

Images of the past flashed into her mind: foals crying, shattered stone pieces, Maredusa’s cruel laughter. Celestia snarled and she glared at the paperwork in front of her as if trying to set blaze to it by her gaze alone.

“Princess Celestia?”

The princess quickly schooled her expression to her normal motherly smile as she looked up to see her major domo patiently waiting by the door. “Ah, Raven. Has something come up?” She sighed, “Or maybe you are delivering more paperwork?”

“…in a sense,” the aging mare eventually said before standing to the side to allow a black suited stallion to walk in. His mane was colored silver and coat a darker grey. He sported a grin so wide that his eyes seemed to crinkle shut making it difficult to tell his eye color.

The stallion’s presence prompted a confused frown from the princess that quickly turned to surprise when she spotted a platinum lapel pin with the likeness of a cypress tree. “And what would Lord Hades need?” Celestia asked warily.

“Firstly, the Master wishes for me to pass along his apologies for the trouble caused by this latest lapse in security,” the bowed lightly, his grin never changing. His manners seemed courtly enough, but that grin and dry voice seemed to make a mockery of it.

There wasn’t anything supernatural about the stallion, Celestia would have surely sensed anything like that, but he always left her fighting a chill from crawling down her spine. She never did understand her brother’s fondness for the types he hired. “Please give him my thanks for the sentiment but it’s unnecessary,” she politely demurred. “I’m not exactly innocent of mistakes in this matter, myself.”

“As you will, Your Majesty,” the stallion nodded as he reached into his suit. “The second matter is in regard to a recent development with one of our wards.” He pulled out a letter and stepped forward to pass it to the princess from across the desk.

My, such a lofty way to say ‘convicts’, Celestia thought sarcastically. “And that is?” she asked with a raised eyebrow as she accepted the letter.

“After processing their case, the Master has decided that it would be best for a transfer. Ideally, to the custody of this new guest of yours. Jeff, I believe you call him?”

“Jeff?!” Celestia exclaimed in shock as she halfway opened the letter. She turned back to the letter as she continued, “I don’t make a habit of contradicting my brother in his business, but I fail to see the wisdom in this. Not only is Jeff a new inhabitant and unknown, but what is known leaves me doubtful that he would…be…. suitable,” her voice trailed off as a name in the message caught her attention. She stared at the letter as her mind, still a bit weary from her earlier struggles with bureaucracy, attempted to process the implications this letter held.

“…he…hehe.” It started as a slight chuckle. Chuckles devolved into giggles. In no time at all, Princess Celestia, considered a master of poker faces and emotional control, was consumed with mirth to the point of rolling on the floor as her laughter filled the room.

Raven watched in wide-eyed shock as she had never seen anything cause the Princess to lose her control while the stallion watched on with that same grin. His grin, against all possibilities, seemed to grow slightly as he spoke just loud enough to be heard over the alicorn’s raucous laughter, “Yes, the Master thought this little bit of news would make your day.”

Author's Note

New update! Just another glimpse at our would-be villain. Bit o f world building maybe, before showing some more space robot mayhem.

Next one might take a bit:ajsleepy:, but shouldn't be that long. In the mean time, hope this one get's a smile:pinkiehappy:.