Sweetie Dreadnought

by computerneek

Rating: teen
Tags: Science Fiction, Alternate Universe, Lyra, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Bon-Bon
Length: 3858

It's Tuesday, so it's not the monster that Agent Sweetie Drops is worried about.

A monster comes raging through Ponyville.

On any other day of the week, that might have been a major problem.

But it's Tuesday today, so it's not what Agent Sweetie Drops and her partner are worried about in the slightest.

A one-shot I had a sudden idea for.

If you want, suggest a plotline and I may write a sequel/prequel/AU with more chapters.

Published 2019-06-19 02:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-06-19 02:00:02 UTC

Sweetie Dreadnought

It was huge.

That is, the latest disaster to hit Ponyville.

But all in all, it wasn’t that bad. Tirek had been bigger, and more powerful- and don’t even get Twilight started on the bugbear-ursa hybrid.

This one was only the size of the Castle of Friendship or so. It walked on five legs, with three arms swinging wildly about to smash anything in its path. Three massive arms, with clawed hands the size of houses.

Now, though, it’s been defeated. Frankly, it’s amazing just how little property damage it did, walking right through the middle of town before Twilight arrived on the train to teleport it into oblivion.

There is one factor that Secret Agent Sweetie “Super Excellent” Drops and her partner haven’t mentioned to the Element Bearers just yet, though. Or to the rest of Ponyville.

She and Secret Agent Candy “Kinda” Stripes have the Crusaders in their basement.

And not their normal basement. No; each one is in a different, magically isolated room inside their secret basement, each having been brought in through a different, well-hidden entrance scattered throughout the town. The Crusaders have been allowed to believe they’re being questioned as part of an investigation into the origins of the monster; of the three, only Sweetie Belle seems to doubt that story.

Neither Agent is surprised.

“Subject One,” Drops orders, speaking as much to the tape recorder as to her partner.

A folder slips itself out of the middle of the towering stack on the desk between the two Agents, wrapped in a golden glow. “Earth filly, Applebloom,” Stripes states, not even looking at the folder. “Age, fourteen years, two months, and three days; no cutie mark. Subject is friends with the suspect. Farmer; member of the Apple Family, known for honesty.

“Applebloom was seen fleeing the Everfree Forest ahead of her friends Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, towards town. She and her friends were pursued by the Monster, a Category Three Octastomp. Applebloom escaped the Octastomp, and witnessed it striking her friends.”

Drops nods. “Begin interrogation.” She raises a hoof, and presses stop on the recorder, before letting out a sigh. “You know, I almost wish I was in Applebloom’s place,” she informs her partner. “I’m sure she’s frightened- but she gets to go home and forget about it when we’re done with her.”

Stripes nods sagely. “You and me both, Drops. You and me both. So, shall we get this over with?”

Drops rises from her seat. “Might as well. Applebloom is probably more than a little freaked out right now.”

Stripes sighs. “Yeah. I think she thinks she’s in trouble for attracting the Octastomp.”

Agent Drops walks confidently into the small, stone room. Agent Stripes is staying behind the observation window with the recorder.

Applebloom speaks up immediately, even before the door closes. “I’m sorry.”

Agent Drops pauses, raising one eyebrow as the door lands closed.

Applebloom looks up towards her, tears streaming from her eyes. “They say you Agents can talk to the dead,” she states. “Please. Tell Sweetie I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.” her head hangs back down in shame.

Agent Drops lowers her eyebrow again. “Sweetie is not dead,” she informs Applebloom, causing the filly’s head to snap up. “I will need you to answer a few questions.”

“Is- Is Sweetie okay?” Applebloom completely ignores the other statement.

“Sweetie will be okay,” Drops informs her. “I will need you to answer a few questions.”

She finally lets out a sigh, relaxing somewhat. “Okay… Okay, fire away.”

She nods. “Alright. Where did you find the Octastomp?”

“Octastomp?”

“The monster.”

“Oh… It was in the forest.”

“Where were you when you found it?”

“In the forest.”

“Where were Scootaloo and Sweetie when you found it?”

“Next to me.”

“Where were you when you reached town?”

Applebloom stares for a second, processing the question, before answering. “Reaching town ahead of the other two.”

“Why were you so far ahead?”

“I ran at full tilt.”

“How did you know when it swung at the other two?”

“I heard Sweetie scream, and looked.”

“What happened when it swung?”

“I… I guess Scoots managed to fly. One second, she was running with Sweetie; the next, she was flying past me, leaving Sweetie behind. It hit her; I think I saw her go through Vinyl’s window.”

“What happened after that?”

“I resumed running. I… I thought Sweetie was killed.”

“Well, that was… straightforward,” Agent Drops mutters, back behind the observation window.

Agent Stripes nods. “Her answers were honest, but too simple to be of much use- we already knew all of that.”

Drops sighs. “Too true. You take her back to the surface, I’ll get a fresh tape for the next subject- and hope she’s a little more talkative.”

“Subject Two,” Drops orders.

A folder slips itself out of the bottom of the towering stack. “Pegasus filly, Scootaloo,” Stripes states, again not even glancing at the papers. "Age, fourteen years, two months, and two days; no cutie mark. Subject is friends with the suspect. Subject is known to strive for ‘awesomeness’.

“Scootaloo was seen fleeing the Everfree Forest next to Sweetie Belle and behind Applebloom, towards town. She and her friends were pursued by the Monster, a Category Three Octastomp. Scootaloo narrowly escaped the Octastomp; the conditions of this escape are unknown.”

“Begin interrogation.” Drops turns the recorder off. “What’s your bet?”

“I’ll bet she talks, a lot,” Stripes states immediately. “Probably honestly, but not necessarily accurately.”

“Dang, that was my bet too. No pool.”

She glances at the recorder. “You ready to handle another self-accusation?”

Drops sighs. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Is Sweetie okay?” Scootaloo asks, the moment the door opens to admit Agent Drops.

Drops nods. “Sweetie will be okay. I will need you to answer a few questions.”

“Oh, good. Um, okay?”

“Alright. Where did you find the Octastomp?”

“Octastomp?”

“The monster.”

“Oh. We found it in a cave in the Everfree Forest- about a half a mile in.”

“Where were you when you found it?”

“We were at the entrance of the cave when it woke up. That’s… also when we realized it was there. We ran.”

“Where were you when you reached town?”

“Uh, in town?”

“Specifically, in relation to your friends and the monster.”

“Um… Applebloom had run ahead, but I was next to Sweetie. I think it was close enough, behind us, to try hitting us.”

“Why were you not outstripping Sweetie Belle?”

She blinks. “That’s… That’s a good question. I was running at full tilt, and pegasi are faster than unicorns. Especially after a long run.”

“How did you know when it swung at you?”

“Wait, what? It swung at me? Uh, is that when I suddenly went flying past Applebloom?”

“Probably. What happened when you ‘suddenly went flying past Applebloom’?”

“I… suddenly went flying past Applebloom. I crash landed a bit down the road, but recovered; when I looked back, I couldn’t see Sweetie at all. And I don’t know how I got going that fast. Was it because it hit me, or did my wings work for a moment?”

“What happened after that?”

“Applebloom was still running, so I resumed running. I haven’t seen Sweetie since.”

“Good thing there was no pool, I guess,” Agent Stripes mutters, as Drops returns behind the observation window.

Drops nods. “We both would’ve lost.”

“Anyways, her answers were honest as well, and careful. Assuming her information is accurate, we know about where the Octastomp Cave is.”

She sighs. “Yeah. Well, only two left. You take care of her, I’ll get a fresh tape.”

“Subject Three,” Drops orders.

The folder comes from near the top this time. “Unicorn mare, Vinyl Scratch. Age, thirty-eight years, six months, fourteen days; musical note cutie mark. No relation to the suspect. Musician; information has proven reliable in past interactions.

Vinyl Scratch came forward on her own as a witness to some of the events immediately following the Octastomp’s attack on the Crusaders.”

“Begin interrogation.” Drops turns the recorder off. “At least this one will be quick and easy.”

“Yeah. Vinyl knows the system pretty well by now.”

She snorts. “ ‘Pretty well’ my hoof, she knows it by heart.”

Drops bows her head as she enters the room, closing the door.

Vinyl bows her head as well. “Greetings.”

“You wanted to make a statement?” Drops offers.

“Ah, yes.

“I was running for the basement, after securing all of my instruments, when something white that I now believe to have been Sweetie Belle passed right in front of me. She appeared to have passed through the front window and an intervening wall. When I followed the blur to the point of impact on the opposite wall, I found Sweetie Belle rising to her hooves, bright white light flickering across her body, on the other side of it. As I recall, she was complaining about material strengths and design capacities.”

“Well, that was…”

“Confusing?” Drops proposes.

Stripes shrugs. “Eh, yeah. I don’t know of a word that combines that with ‘informative’.”

Drops shrugs. “So, ‘confusing and yet informative’. Anyways, Vinyl knows our mazelike access tunnels move all the time- you lead her out, I’ll prep the recorder again. For the big one.”

“The one we’ve all been waiting for.”

She snorts. “I wish.”

“Subject Four,” Drops orders.

The folder comes out from the middle again. “Unicorn filly, Sweetie Belle. Age, fourteen years, two months, one day; no cutie mark. Subject is the suspect. Subject is related to the Element Bearer of Generosity, and may volunteer information. Subject likes to read, and may use complicated words.

“Sweetie Belle was seen fleeing the Everfree Forest next to Scootaloo and behind Applebloom, towards town. She and her friends were pursued by the Monster, a Category Three Octastomp. Sweetie was struck by the Octastomp but, despite flying through two walls, appears to be completely unharmed.”

“Begin interrogation.” Drops turns the recorder off. “Well, this is the big one.”

“Here’s hoping she knows what happened, and is willing to explain.”

“Yeah, here’s hoping. If not… Well, it won’t be the first mystery we’ve failed to solve.”

She sighs. “No, it won’t, regrettably. It’ll only be the second, though.” Stripes grins at Drops. “And since that first is Pinkie Pie herself, I daresay we’re going to solve this mystery as well.”

“Wait,” Agent Stripes blinks. They’ve just reached the observation room; Agent Drops hasn’t gone in to interrogate yet. “Where’d she get that?”

Agent Drops looks through the window, to where Sweetie Belle is relaxing on the hard metal chair, sipping a sundae as she reads a book, almost as if she were on the beach somewhere.

“That… is a very good question,” Agent Drops mutters, turning to the door.

Sweetie Belle glances up as Agent Drops enters the room, before marking her spot and snapping Great Ponies of Our Time, Volume 3 shut and laying it on the table. “Good afternoon,” she greets. “Decent weather, isn’t it?” She gestures towards the solid metal ceiling and the meters of rock layered overtop of it.

Agent Drops raises an eyebrow. It is true, the weather above all that metal and rock is scheduled to be decent today- but she most certainly can’t see it from here. “I’m going to need you to answer a few questions.”

Sweetie bows her head. “Predictably.” She waves at the observation window.

"Alright. Where did you find the Octastomp?"

“It was sleeping its cave in the Everfree, roughly zero point seven three miles south-by-southwest of the Clubhouse.”

“Where were you when you found it?”

“We were at the mouth of the cave when we encountered it. Scoots tried using sonic rangefinding to measure the cave, waking it up in the process.”

“Sonic rangefinding?”

She nods. “She shouted into the cave, and listened for the echoes. It was a small cave, so it took about three seconds.”

“A… small cave, three seconds.”

She nods. “I’ve seen bigger.”

“Alright. Where were you when you reached town?”

“Reaching town. Applebloom ran ahead, but Scoots was next to me. The Octastomp was about thirty feet behind, but that left us in range of its arms.”

“Why were you not falling behind Scootaloo?”

“Um, because I was running as fast as she?”

“She was running flat-out. How did she not outstrip you?”

“Because I ran as fast as she. I didn’t want to expose her to its attacks.”

“Were you getting tired?”

“No.”

“After a two-mile gallop?”

“Yes.”

“How were you not getting tired, without either earth pony endurance or pegasus energy?”

“I didn’t want to get tired, so I didn’t.”

Drops stares at her for a few seconds.

“You… didn’t want to get tired.”

“Yeah.”

“... Okay. How did you know when it swung at you?”

“About four seconds beforehand, its third tail rose while the second swung to its left.”

“And you could see its tails while running for your life?”

“No.”

She nods slowly. “How did you know what its tails were doing?”

“I saw them.”

“And you were able to see its tails?”

“No.”

“Okay. What happened when it swung?”

“I threw Scootaloo to safety.”

“You threw Scootaloo to safety.”

“I just said that.”

“How did you throw her whilst in the middle of a dead gallop?”

“I created a high-strength directed gravity field around her.”

“How did you do that?”

“With my magic.”

“You got your magic working?”

“No.”

“So you created a high-strength directed gravity field around her with magic that wasn’t working.”

“Yes.”

“And you did that consciously.”

“Yes.”

“What happened after you threw her?”

“It hit me, throwing me through Vinyl’s front window.”

“Why did you not dodge as well?”

“I didn’t have time.”

“Why didn’t you extend the high-strength directed gravity field to cover yourself as well?”

“I don’t have the power to make one that big strong enough to propel us to safety.”

“Why didn’t you create it earlier, then?”

“I cannot create it over myself.”

“So it’s an area effect magic that cannot affect the caster.”

“No. It’s an area effect magic that the caster cannot enter, or otherwise be in.”

“Okay. After passing through Vinyl’s front window, did you pass through two walls?”

“Yes.”

“How were you unharmed?”

“I was not unharmed.”

“How are you unharmed?”

“I healed.”

“When you rose back to your hooves after the second wall, was there bright white light flickering across your body?”

“No.”

“Were you in pain?”

“No.”

“Were you complaining about material strengths and design capacities?”

“Yes.”

“What material strengths or design capacities were you complaining about?”

Sweetie hangs her head. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”

Agent Drops doesn’t move.

Sweetie sighs. “Yeah, you have. Well, I’m… not exactly a pony.” Her fur seems to melt away, vanishing into thin air to expose her skin underneath. Her skin, though, seems to be made up of segmented, off-white panels. Several of the panels on her right side and her back are brighter than the rest, sparkling clean; her entire right foreleg carries this appearance as well. Her mane has become a purple-and-pink webbing, connecting to her head in several points, including a line down the middle of the back of her head, right to where the base of her mane was before. It hangs in exactly the same place, and exactly the same way, as her mane did, though there’s no curls. Her tail is similar, though there is a long chain of metallic segments running down the middle of it, each segment attached to the webbing.

A few of the panels on each of her shoulders are bright green, though most of the ones on her hind legs or her left foreleg are faded and worn. Her head is mostly one big, scratched metal piece, though her ears are attached independently and segmented themselves several times. Her horn is also attached independently, right at the base, with a glowing green line; another matching line appears halfway up, and a third just shy of the tip. The tip of her horn is green as well, though not glowing, and there’s a tiny hole at the very tip.

Further down, her eyes don’t have eyelids. Her eyeballs are a sparkling golden color, with no green at all. Her… pupils, for the lack of a better term, look like the aperture of a camera, if it was constructed of shining golden metal.

Her nostrils don’t seem to exist on her muzzle, and her mouth appears to function more like a pony’s, with thousands of tiny metal pieces shifting and sparkling in time with her speech, forming her lips. Her voice is no different.

“I’m made of metal,” Sweetie continues. “It’s a special alloy unknown to Equestria, rather unimaginatively called ‘Duralloy’. It’s…” She sighs visibly, even though she doesn’t seem to be breathing. “A… A lot of these panels are very thin and made in a mesh structure so small you can’t see it, so I could fit my workings inside without weighing any more than a regular pony. That limited my design tolerances… and that monster’s blow, plus passing through those two walls, overwhelmed them, dealing significant damage to my hull and some of my outer systems. My head was okay; my skull is much thicker, so I’ve yet to come across anything capable of denting it.”

Agent Drops stares at her for several seconds. “So… You, ah, designed yourself?”

Sweetie winces visibly, though without either eyebrows or eyelids, much of the effect is diminished. “Uh… kinda. I’m… I’m not a pony, but I’m also not… this.” She gestures at herself. “I designed and built this myself, a long time ago. I’m… I’m actually much bigger. Heavier.” She looks up at Agent Drops. “I’m… a spaceship. One big enough to carry every pony alive. But…

“I’m designed for war.

“I’m sorry if you don’t want me. I’ll… I’ll go away. Find somewhere else.” She shrugs sadly, staring at the floor. “Blow up in deep space.”

Agent Drops jumps quickly up onto the table, picking her up to pull her into a hug. “Don’t… Don’t think like that. We’re not going to make you run away- and if anypony tries to get you to do that last one, you come get us, okay?”

Sweetie shifts, looking up at her. “Really?”

Agent Drops sighs. “We’re going to have to tell Rarity, just because she as a right to know what her sister is, but do you really think we’d throw you out?”

Sweetie nods. “It’s… it’s what everyone does.”

“What.”

Sweetie sighs. “This…” She takes a deep breath and stares at the wall, though Agent Drops notes the complete lack of air entering her mouth. “I… I came to Equestria when magic itself was still in its infancy. I watched for thousands of years, and finally saw an opportunity to join the world in a position I could enjoy: Sweetie Belle… was a stillborn foal. I… changed that, becoming her, just before she was born. I used as many of her biological parts as I could, for as long as I could; the last one- her left forehoof- died about four years ago.

“But this isn’t the first time I’ve joined society. First time I’ve joined Equestrian society, sure- but not the first time overall, no. Far from it. I was originally built over a billion years ago. I’ve inserted myself into two million, eight hundred thirty-seven thousand, two hundred ninety three civilizations before coming here to Equestria.” She looks up at Drops. “And every last one of them chased me off with torches and pitchforks as soon as they realized what I was.”

“And… you couldn’t fight them off?” Drops asks.

Sweetie rolls her eyes. “Oh puh-lease. It was torches and pitchforks! My eyes have twin laser batteries built-in; I have missile launchers in each of my legs. My mouth houses a sniper rifle, for Celestia’s sake! And that’s not even counting that I’m still a starship capable of shattering planets!

“No, no. I let them run me off, and went somewhere else, because I didn’t want to destroy their culture, their life. I… I only want to have one of my own.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you one.” She glances towards the observation window. “And, um, you said you’re a spaceship?”

“Yeah?”

“Does that spaceship have a name?”

She nods. “Athena.”

“Uh… Like, E.N.S. Athena or something?”

She shakes her head. “I am not affiliated with any navies; it’s just ‘Athena’. Or ‘Starship Athena’, if you prefer.”

“Sweetie Belle!” Applebloom screams, streaking across the street to slam into her full-bore.

“Hey, Applebloom,” Sweetie answers, stumbling backwards but showing absolutely no difficulty breathing, despite the farmer’s crusher grip. “Any chance you could slow down next time? I’m going to have to replace my upper front right shoulder panel… again.”

“I thought I-!” Applebloom continues, before drawing back. “... Wait, what?”

“I mean,” Sweetie muses, “you buckle it so often I’ve got a whole heap of them floating around, but still.” Her shoulder seems to flash as Applebloom draws back.

“What…?” Applebloom asks.

Sweetie giggles. “Yeah, I never did tell you, did I? I’m a robot.”

“Awesome!” Scootaloo yips, having joined Applebloom at a lower velocity. “Uh… are there any parts I break on a regular basis…?”

“No,” she answers. “Though whenever you crash that wagon, I usually have to do at least some repairs.”

“What… What about crusading? Do we regularly…?”

She shakes her head. “Nah. I mean, sure, I’ve burned out an occasional motor when landing from height or something, but I’ve never broken anything, no.” She grins. “My hooves are made to take the abuse that my subskin can’t.”

“Oh.”

“Um,” Applebloom begins. “Do you happen to know why we always seem to get covered in tree sap…?”

She grins widely. “Actually, I do.”

“Why is it, then?”

“Because I beam it down.”

“... which means?”

“Because I teleport it in. Without it, you two would spend so much time in the Ponyville Hospital it wouldn’t even be funny.” She shrugs. “And technically, it’s not even tree sap. It’s one part of a two-part resin called ‘construction adhesive’.”

“... Oh.”

“What’s it like being a robot?” Scootaloo asks.

She shrugs. “No different from before everypony knew I was a robot. Except, of course, the nickname Twilight’s come up with.” She shudders. “Oh, and Rarity doesn’t bother me about my magic anymore, since she knows my horn is really just a conical casing for a long-range communications device with a spark generator in the tip.”

“Uh, what’s that nickname, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Twilight’s voice suddenly floats in from the direction of the Castle of Friendship. “Oh, there you are. There’s a few things I wanted to ask you, Sweetie Dreadnought.”

Author's Note

I had an idea, and decided to write a quick one-shot on it. Yeah, I could turn it into a story- but trying to continue this would result in yet another 3-chapter (or so) cancelled epic. Which I don't like. So here, published & completed on the same day.