It had taken all of five minutes to stick her credentials in to the temp agency’s database. It had taken another five to shuffle things around, put her on assignment in DiamondTech for something menial.

It had taken a bit longer to get some proper clothes. Fluttershy shifted her blouse again. It had been a long time since she had worn anything this formal. A proper hacker did not wear blouses and miniskirts.

“And here is your desk,” the secretary said. “It is just a cubicle, but the break room is down the hall and the bathrooms are right next to them.” She smiled a corporate smile. “Anything else I can help with?”

Fluttershy smiled back. “No, uhm, thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Sorry to bother you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The girl handed over a manila folder. “Here’s the onboarding packet we went over. The data you’re entering is the large binder on your desk. Talk to you later!”

The girl walked off, and Fluttershy settled in to her cubicle office chair.

Six months she had been trying to crack DiamondTech’s security. Now here she was, just like that. It was really too easy. It was almost insulting.

She set down her purse, pulled out her phone.

“Oh, uhm, excuse me?” she peeked over the side of her cubicle.

A bubbly girl with fluffy pink hair looked up from her keyboard. “Oh, hiya, cubicle neighbor! Need some help with something?”

“I’m really sorry to bother you, but could I charge my phone in one of your computer’s USB ports?” She held up her phone and charging cable. “The one’s on mine are kind of bent.”

“Sure thing!”

“Are you sure? It’s not too much trouble?” Fluttershy asked.

“Of course not! Neighbors gotta stick together, right?”

The bubbly girl took the phone, plugged it into her tower. It took her a few tries; she had to turn the cable around and over and back again.

“Thanks so much,” Fluttershy said.

“No problem!” The girl extended her hand. “I’m Pinkie Pie! Nice ta meet ya, neighbor.”

“Typeset Flourish,” Fluttershy took the handshake.

“Well, better get back to work. But we can chat more on break.”

Fluttershy settled back in to her desk chair. The “phone” would take a while to run its program. Security programs probably wouldn’t notice it. She had designed it herself, after all. It looked just like an employee charging their phone. Still, it couldn’t hurt to have someone else to take the fall.

Now for the hard part: actually doing her “job”. It would be way too suspicious to leave once the program had finished. Even if it didn’t take all day. So to protect her cover, Fluttershy had to sit through a whole day of being a corporate drone.

She sighed. This is exactly the sort of work she had become a hacker to avoid.

But the data that program was stealing would set her up for life. After today, Fluttershy would be the only hacker in the entire world who had defeated DiamondTech’s security.

She smiled. An eight-hour shift was a small price to pay, when you thought about it.

She heaved open the binder. It looked like it had been chiseled out of stone and yellow paper, like it had been around as long as DiamondTech. She opened it to the first page: an old spreadsheet set into a plastic binder page.

She sighed. She opened up Excel, and began to slowly copy the sheet into it. She typed quickly. No need to pretend for the sake of cover.

One down, four-hundred-and-ninety-nine to go.

Fluttershy sipped her coffee slowly. She had already eaten her sandwich at lunch, and the breakroom vending machine hadn’t been filled in a long time. The cheap coffee machine in the breakroom worked, and DiamondTech had actually provided some decent instant stuff.

She turned another page in the ancient binder. She had no idea why this junk was worth digitizing. It barely even looked like real data anymore. She had been typing since morning and the data had gotten less and less coherent the further into the binder she got. It repeated itself over and over. Her typing had slowed to a crawl as she checked and double-checked the binder.

80085 D1Ck5 (uM continue Submission

Submit to President Rarity at first opportunity.

And to make matters worse, they had some stupid corporate nannyware installed. Every few minutes it would create a garish green popup, ask her if she was still working. And keyboard commands didn’t even work with the damn thing. She had to manually move her mouse over, click “Yes” or “I am” or “Of course” each time. And then the popup would close, and a little box with a generic corporate slogan would linger in the corner of the screen for moment.

Fluttershy rubbed her eyes. She was used to coding and typing, but this was brain-strainingly tedious. At least her shift would be over soon.

Type, close popup, corporate message. Type, close popup, corporate message. Take a sip of coffee. Turn the page. Rinse, repeat, until her shift ended. Fluttershy kept typing. It almost felt like a long coding session, working into a rhythm.

“Oh, heya, neighbor!”

“Huh?” Fluttershy looked up. The bubbly girl—Pinkie Pie—was holding out her phone and USB cable.

“Shift’s over! And here’s your phone. It sure took a long time to charge, though. Is that cable kinda old?”

“Uhm, yea. Thanks again.”

Pinkie Pie glanced over. “Oh, looks like you didn’t make it through the binder. Guess that means I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

Fluttershy followed Pinkie’s gaze. Right, the binder. She had barely made it halfway through.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she muttered.

Fluttershy packed up her things, took the bus back to her apartment. As usual, neon advertisements and skyscrapers dominated the view on the way.

She should have plugged the phone right in to her desktop, started combing through all the data she had stolen. But she was so tired.

She set the phone down on her nightstand. She was too sleepy to eat, to shower, to even think about looking at more screens right now.

She kicked off her shoes, flung her corporate apparel into a corner. She crawled under her covers and started to fall asleep.

And even though she was tired, she kept thinking about her alleged job. Eight hours of drudgery, nine-to-five just like any other suit. All the stuff she had become a hacker to avoid.

But that binder. She couldn’t just leave it unfinished, could she? If a temp didn’t show up to finish a job, that would be pretty suspicious. She’d never be able to use those fake credentials again.

She had gotten halfway through. And no security had shown up to take away Pinkie Pie. Maybe one more day, just to be on the safe side…

Author's Note

This story was partially inspired by the cover art. I don't know quite what the rules are for linking NSFW art these days. But it should be easy enough to find on the artist's userpage.