Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats. ― H.L. Mencken

So I got press ganged into the WildeHopps Navy. Nothin’ but a bunch of fan-boys in drag playing pirate and cuddling bunnies off the coast of Florida. They don't loot, rape, pillage, kill, plunder or drink heavily; frankly they're pirates in name only! ― G4COD

That Sunday morning in Equestria started just as any other would've, with a sense of good things coming and lazy awakenings for many ponies. Fillies and colts enjoyed reading the funnies with their parents or scarfing down a bowl of cereal before they went off to play. The sun was shining brightly, warming the grass and hearts of ponies everywhere. It was a day promising only the best.

And, in the opinion of one mare, the best would have to be a day at the lake. Of course, the pink-and-pink mare in question invited her friends, because in her own words-

“And swimming, and picnicking, and more swimming, and cupcakes, and fun games, and lazy naps, and friends, and more cupcakes make the beatest best day at the lake ever!” Pinkie Pie plonked along in that unique mode of transportation only she could pull off, the basket on her back stuffed past capacity and overflowing with plenty of snacks, paper plates, drinks, paper cups, a fully inflated beach ball and some paper napkins. The sun was still a ways off from noon and she had convinced her friends of one of the immortal truths of the world.

You have to wait thirty minutes to an hour before you go swimming and, seeing as everypony had eaten at least an hour ago, logically that meant they must go swimming now.

In reality, she popped out of various impossible hiding spots and rambled on about how since nopony had any plans that she knew of, having kept a very up to date scheduling calendar and day planner that would've impressed Twilight, then they should all go to the lake and have fun.

Afterwards, Rainbow Dash swore to park her cloud house an extra fifty feet up, just in case Pinkie used the trampoline while she was in the shower.

Again.

Plonk, plonk, plonk down the street she bounced, listing many of the things she was going to do while keeping a few to herself, such as the pranks. Maybe she would run home after a while and grab her snorkel, so as to keep the emergency ones tucked away for emergencies. Maybe she would beat her cannonball splash record, a full fourteen foot high plume of water reaching for the clouds, unless she was feeling like taking a more gentle approach as her friends gape at her masterful bending of the laws of physics.

See, Pinkie doesn't break the laws of physics, she literally befriended them and they enjoy playing around the eccentric mare. Breaking them would hurt them, and Pinkie Pie always makes it a point to never hurt her friends; especially the abstract ones.

Within no time, but still enough for her to come up with a few less-than-innocent ideas that were somehow still PG, she arrived at the park and soon found the perfect spot by the lake. It even had a nice oak tree to provide shade. Now all she needed was-

“Hi everypony!” she loudly greeted the lake goers already there, receiving a few waves in return. Of course, she didn't need to wait for her friends, she was friends with everypony in Ponyville after all, she just needed to wait for the group of friends she was going to be playing with today. It was promising to be the bestest best day at the lake ever, she could feel it in her Pinkie sense.

Although, sweaty ears was a tad bit unusual and had yet to be puzzled out.

Everyone was bringing something; Fluttershy was bringing the blanket, Rarity and Applejack were bringing their younger sisters, Rainbow Dash was going to stop by Scootaloo’s house and see if she wanted to come, Twilight was bringing a book, or more likely six Pinkie thought with a giggle, while Spike was bringing himself, one of the most important things anyone can bring to anything being themself after all.

Followed by clean cupcake wrappers.

By noon, everyone had gotten several hours of fun in the sun and the picnic was well underway. Everything was going peacefully according to the non existent plan. Which would usually ticked off unworldly forces like Fate and Murphy. Even Discord, the reformed god of chaos he was, would've been tempted to upset their lovely day.

None of them would dare however, Sunday's shitstorm was already scheduled and reserved by another higher power

I had a migraine and I was lying on my stomach underwater.

Now before you assume anything, understand that Big Daddies in general started out with the sole purpose of working deep, deep beneath the ocean for long periods of times, building and maintaining the city beneath the waves. Even a Lancer like me, the first Big Daddy model to be built exclusively for combat, needed to be able to go outside and occasionally perform some task or another. Gather coral for one of the scientists, grab a Adam Slug someone saw through a window, brace a broken pipe until a Rosie could get there to fix it.

Yes, the sensation of an entire ocean on my shoulders is very familiar to me.

But, while I was underwater, I could tell by the constriction of my dive suit that it was nowhere near the familiar pressure I would usually work with. The EmotiGel that covered the inside of my helmet was softly glowing white and I could hear a musical tone fading.

Why my creators added that was beyond me, but it meant the massive headache I had was from an update. It was much worse than any of the three updates I'd been through, which made sense to me. A Big Daddy having their programming updated is a semi-normal thing for us. Last I heard, the Bouncers had almost two dozen updates between the moment they first started being Protectors and the complete breakdown of Rapture.

Mine were mainly minor things such as how hard my normal walking steps should be to avoid unnecessary damage to the city, waving at people in an attempt to seem less monstrous, which didn't work and instead made people aware that the deadly leviathan had noticed them, or what I shouldn't shoot by accident. How was I to know a Ion Laser is incredibly effective against electronics? No one programmed me to know that, yet I was still blamed for it.

As I established, my programming has been altered before, although… my protocols were never changed. Three simple rules ensured I located, protected and escorted the Gatherers, the scientists, or whoever hit me with a Hypnotize Plasmid, and myself. I could still feel them, but they weren't the same. Different… and Protocol One was changed more than the rest. No more need to find a daughter, just a desire to find mine. To protect her, teach her, raise her.

Love her… I never loved any of the daughters, but I did prefer mine over the rest. I guess all Big Daddies had their own preferences, and some may have preferred my daughter over the rest, but like I said; we were solitary creations, especially amongst our own kind.

If any of the Big Daddies ever truly loved their daughter, it would have to be the Alpha series. But, even then, they had an axe hanging over their metaphorical necks that drove them to find their bonded daughter when they were separated. They also refused to work after their bonding took place.

Lazy, paranoid bastards.

My EmotiGel changed back to neutral yellow and I picked myself up. I looked around, at my hooves, in the surrounding water, at the surface of the small body of water I was at the bottom of, a small lake or pond, with a few dozen yards of water weighing down on me. Effortlessly, I withstood it.

My visor light up the floor of the body of water in a dim yellow. While my porthole shined with the colour of the EmotiGel that covered the inside of my helmet, it didn't reflect the light and blind me. I'm not sure how, but there again I'm also not sure how they molecularly bonded glass with steel.

Other than a few small fish, some plants and a few ponies swimming above me near the center of the lake, I was alone. I took only a few seconds to enjoy the solace before I marched for the shore.

I had a daughter to find… I also realized I didn't know what she looked like.

Faust-erased!

I snorted in annoyance at the minor problem. Of course I'd recognize my daughter without knowing what exactly she might look like, I could be blind and deaf but her pheromones would never lie to my sense of smell.

But asking around for a filly that smells wouldn't be the best plan for finding her, it might even ostracize us even more than what I expected, especially considering I would likely be the only one who'd be able to actually smell it.

Crazy giant stallion in massive, armoured dive suit arrested for smelling schoolhouse of young fillies, admits to planning a visit to orphanage next, I pictured the front page of a non-descript newspaper and groaned in exasperation. I can see it now.

Regardless, I would have to surface and have a look around before I could make any actual plans. And open my dive suit to the outside air, so as to not exhaust my limited amount of air in the scuba tanks on my back. I, like all Big Daddies, seal it shut before engaging in combat, or obviously before going outside of Rapture, due to the specialized mixture within the tanks specifically made to provide the very best atmospheric pressure and breathability for working deep under water or fighting.

It actually made me a little bit stronger as well, something to do with a chemical in the mix and the percentage of oxygen, nitrogen and other gases.

Shaking the thoughts of unimportance away, I stopped walking and looked at the twin pillars of wood ahead of me, far enough apart that I could even turn around between them. The surface just a foot or more above above my eye level and a few more steps through this gateway would bring me to the land of ponies, open skies, (mostly) safety, fatherhood and life…

I groaned and focused on the shaded beach just a short distance in front of me, thinking. Everything was different, new. In an attempt to focus myself, I read my protocols and summarized them into three simple rules.

Protect your daughter.
Protect your friends.
Protect yourself.

Three sentences that shall shape my newly given life. Each one ran on past the shortened version, a paragraph apiece. My old protocols never ran on like these did, they were simple. My new ones were complex. My programming swelled past its former size threefold, with more than a hundred files edited and a dozen and a half new files, each one imprinted into my mind for future reference. Only one new file truly caught my attention, how could it not with the name Ion Laser Operation.

Well… all else, I won't have to stomp my foes into paste. With my Ion Laser I could burn them into piles of ash or cook a hole through their center of mass. I'll read through it once I find her.

With that, I walked through the two pillars and ascended towards the future. I didn't even realize the pillars were actually the supports for a small pier until after I was halfway out of the water and standing on the splintered remains of some wooden boards.

And my first impression is the destruction of property, I groaned in exasperation, once more picturing a non-descript newspaper. Bucking brilliant.

Author's Note

Elect me as your chef, and I'll cook delicious rabbit stew every day; we got enough of the tasty little bastards! What are you guys booing me for?! Pets? Why would you... Oh... Right. WildeHopps.

"Make him wake the plank!"