Cyberpony Y2K

The Flight of Fancy had seen better days.

Vinyl winced as she and Rarity walked up to the doors, examining a blown open wall. "I sure hope nopony was hurt," she said.

"As do I," Rarity said. "But there's not much we can do about it at this point."

A Flash-Point stood in the doorway—the old door with the swan engraved on it seemed to be missing, as well. "I'm terribly sorry," he said, "but the Flight of Fancy is currently under repairs, and is closed."

"Hey, Buckshot," Vinyl said with a wave. "This is business. Kind of. Can you let Fancy know I'm here?"

Flash-points weren't sold with names attached, but they often came up with their own names that other androids, and occasionally their owners, used. Buckshot paused, staring at Vinyl, then to Rarity.

"I'm here to make a payment, on behalf of Miss Octavia Melody," she said. "Do pass the word to Mr. Fancy, if you'd please."

"Alright," Buckshot said slowly. "Give me a moment." His screen display changed to a ringing phone, while he wirelessly communicated with another android, probably near Fancy.

After a moment, it changed back to his face. "Alright, head on in," he said. "Boss is up in his office."

"Thanks, Buck," Vinyl said, stepping after Rarity.

"You've been sold, then?" Buckshot asked.

"Yeah. I never thought it'd happen, actually."

"Me, neither. Gonna miss you, Scratch."

"Same. Say goodbye to the other DJs for me if I have to leave too soon, alright?" Vinyl said, patting him on the shoulder.

"Will do."

They stepped into the main room of the club, looking at the remnants of the carnage. A lot of tables were missing, and a few broken ones still sat piled in a corner.

Vinyl looked up to the DJ set up, where one of the other DJs was painstakingly cleaning up some debris. He looked up, then peered over the Mixer.

"Hey, Treble," Vinyl said, waving.

"Most of us thought you died, V," Treble said, with a thick Trotson accent. Treble was one of the flesh-and-blood DJs, but like most of Fancy's employees, he treated her nicely. He leaned against the edge of the set casually, grinning down at Vinyl. "I was sure I wasn't seeing you again either way. Shame, cuz I was gonna miss the competition."

"Well, I've been repossessed, so I won't really be coming back," Vinyl said, shrugging. "It happens. You better treat my set right."

"I do believe," a voice cut in, from the stairwell, "that I paid for it, Miss Scratch."

Fancy Pants came down the staircase from his office, giving Vinyl a smile. "You never used it, so I say it's mine," she replied easily.

Fancy laughed. "Can't argue with that, I must say," he admitted, stepping into the the main room with them. "And...Miss Rarity. A pleasure, though I'm afraid I must ask, is Octavia with you?"

"She was afraid that you might not want her back here," Rarity replied.

Fancy grimaced. "I did not intend to convey that she wasn't welcome back," he said. "I simply meant...ah, well, perhaps it is for the best. Come, take a seat." He beckoned towards the nearest club table, saying, "I'd bring you up to my office, but I'm afraid it's...rather cluttered right now. Jiffy!"

Jiffy appeared at Fancy's side from nowhere. Rarity's posture immediately stiffened, one of her hooves sliding back ever so slightly, but she didn't say anything.

"Fetch us some drinks, if you would," Fancy said. "I could use a break, but best to keep it low on the alcoholic side."

"Yessir," Jiffy said, disappearing.

"Did, uh..." Vinyl ran a hand through her mane, then spat out the question. "Did we lose anyone? In the raid?"

Fancy shook his head. "Luckily—for us, anyway—the Inquisitors caught up to them before they'd gotten far. All the androids were brought home safe and sound. A few ponies sustained injuries, but we...did lose one of the Flashpoints in the fight."

"Dammit," Vinyl cursed. "That bastard." She dropped into a seat, holding a hand to her head. "Who?"

"Nopony you knew," Fancy replied. He sat down opposite to her, and Rarity took the last seat as Jiffy returned. He set down three cups, pouring some drink Vinyl hadn't ever cared to learn the name of for Rarity and Fancy. He mimed the action of pouring something into the last cup, then handed it to Vinyl.

"It's the good stuff," he said. "For sending you off."

"Heh, thanks, Jif."

The pegasus shot away, assuming his waiting position just within ear shot.

"It's been a while since I've heard you curse," Fancy said idly.

"Eh? Oh. I guess..." She paused, looking to Rarity.

"Without the chip, she's not forced to anypony's orders anymore," Rarity said, "though she would do well to turn it down, just a skosh."

"Several skoshes, if I remember correctly," Fancy said, eyeing her. He adjusted his monocle, then asked, "And...you're happy? With them?"

"I think I was happier before I had to worry about anything," Vinyl said. "But I'm not unhappy." She toyed with her glass, spinning it slowly. "I'm learning a lot. Seeing a lot. It's hard for me to say much yet, but...well, I trust S--" She made a throat clearing sound. "—My new owners," she said.

Fancy and Rarity raised an eyebrow.

"I shouldn't really reveal any names," Vinyl explained. "Just in case."

"But of course," Fancy said. "I've...never liked selling androids. I don't like watching them go off, and...not knowing if they're safe. Perhaps it's for the best that I never had children," he added with a chuckle.

"I was just one of your employees," Vinyl said. "I wasn't--"

"I don't want to hear that," Fancy said, cutting her off. "All of my employees are special to me. I get to know them. And my androids, who don't get the option of leaving? I do my best to give them as happy a life as I can. I shouldn't be allowed to own them, but I'll be damned if I sit back and let ponies, flesh and bone or metal and wire, suffer while I can prevent it!" He snorted, mustache blowing, then took a sip of his drink. "But I must admit, I still hope that there's a peaceful solution at the end of all this. One that doesn't involve..." He eyed Rarity. "You're coworkers."

Rarity smiled. "I haven't had hope in some time, darling. Some ponies are simply evil."

"And when nopony is perfect, how can any of us claim to perfectly judge another?" Fancy asked.

Rarity sipped her own drink. "Perhaps it's foolish for any of us to judge each other. But I must always call it like it is. Applejack's honesty must have rubbed off on me some time over this past decade."

"The world needs more honesty," Vinyl said simply.

Rarity chuckled. "Well, yes, darling, but one must keep client confidentiality in mind."

"That is different," Vinyl said, pointing at her. "Personal information is fine. We've all—or the non-factory made ponies, at least—got personal stuff. Stuff that other ponies don't need to know about. But I have a right to know what all is in my head. There was stuff in there that I absolutely didn't want in there." She rapped her knuckles against the side of her head. "They don't have a right to keep that from me."

"I agree, but I worry that this path they've chosen...isn't right," Fancy said slowly. "I know Miss Rarity quite well, so I can say I trust her to not be involved in anything on the wrong side of extreme. But...I don't like this idea of full revolution. Many will die."

"Many die already, Fancy," Rarity said gently.

"And are you quite certain that this will save them?"

"Absolutely."

Fancy sighed. "Well, then, I suppose I shall have to work harder, hmm? To keep things from escalating too far."

"That...may be just what this world needs, Fancy," Rarity admitted. "You're a good pony. I only wish that there were more like you."

"I'd have to be quite egotisical to claim that I wanted more ponies like me. Rather, I hope there'd be more who are better than me. Or, perhaps, I just can't see them." He swirled his drink. "What do you think, Miss Scratch?"

Vinyl groaned, falling back in her chair. "I don't know," she drawled. "Every damned time, I just hear more and more, and I can't keep up anymore. How am I supposed to think anything? This was so much easier when I wasn't allowed to think. Back when I could just focus on my music."

Fancy nodded. "It would be easier, wouldn't it? To go back to when we were children and just ignore all the bad stuff?"

Vinyl chuckled. "Hey, I'm seven. That's a child in pony years."

"Yes, well you're barely an adult in android years," Fancy said with a chuckle of his own. "It's about time for you to grow up, Miss Scratch."

"Never. And you can't make me."

"Should I tell her she can't stop growing up?" Rarity asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

"From experience, no," Fancy whispered back. "Best to humor her on this one."

"Um, Mister Fancy," Jiffy said nervously stepping over, "we...have a guest."

"Is it someone important?" Fancy asked. "I'm in the middle of something."

"It's one of the Inquisitors, sir," Jiffy said. "She seems to be back."

There was a stunned silence amongst them.

Fancy looked to Rarity, then back to Jiffy. Then to Rarity again. "Do you...have something of a plan?"

"Yes, actually," Rarity said. "It would be best if you send her in." She put a hand on Vinyl's shoulder, saying, "For God's sake, please keep your mouth shut, Miss Scratch."

"Technically, I don't--"

"Bup-bup-bup-bup!" Rarity interrupted, putting a finger where Vinyl's mouth would have been. "Mister Fancy, I am just a friend of Octavia's who offered to make the trip and deliver the money as payment for Vinyl. Alright?"

Fancy nodded. "Send her in, Jiffy."

Jiffy nodded, then typed in a reply on his phone. A second later, a pegasus strode into the club, and Vinyl took her first look at the Inquisitors.

She was tall, and clearly athletic in build, with metal wing lining. Her coat swept down to her knees, and was deep violet, with an almost scaled pattern. And on her chest, was the signature six-pointed star of the Inquisitors.

Strangely, she didn't seem armed—or were her weapons concealed?

She gave a wide grin, and began marching towards Fancy. "Hey, Mister Fancy!" she called out cheerily. Immediately, feedback whined in Vinyl's ears. She cringed, adjusting her settings quickly as the Inquisitor's voice doubled on top of itself. "Oh, heh, sorry. I thought this was just a business meeting, but it looks a lot friendlier than that."

"No need to worry, my dear," Fancy said calmly, somehow not noticing the feedback whine. "Come, have a seat. Care for a drink?"

"Hmm, I'm not supposed to drink alcohol on the job, but if you've got a soft drink or tea, that would be great," the Inquisitor said, stepping right up to the table.

"I shall fetch one right away," Jiffy said, disappearing.

To her credit, the Inquisitor didn't visibly react to Jiffy, but her eyes seemed to follow him as he left.

"Now, what brings you back here, my dear?" Fancy said. "Is it about those mercenaries you apprehended?"

"Eh, not really," the Inquisitor said. "I was hoping, actually, to talk with Miss Melody. Is she here?"

"Well," Fancy said, "no."

The Inquisitor's eyes narrowed. "Isn't that her android, though?" She nodded in Vinyl's direction.

"Yes, but since she was busy, I offered to deliver the payment to Fancy for her," Rarity said. She frowned, then put a hand up to her mouth. "She's not in trouble, is she?"

"No, no, no! Nothing like that!" the Inquisitor said, holding up gloved hands placatingly. She dropped them, then absentmindedly scratched at her wrist. "There was just something we wanted to talk to her about."

"Here we go!" Jiffy said, suddenly reappearing.

The scrape of a horseshoe had everyone looking back at the Inquisitor, who slowly drew her hand out of her coat, then adjusted in her seat. "Heh, you startled me," she chuckled.

"Oh, sorry, m'm," Jiffy said, depositing a soda bottle on the table. He retreated to his safe distance one more, though the Inquisitor's eyes followed him this time.

She cleared her throat. "Well, anyway," she said, "you know Octavia, right?"

"Yes," Rarity said. "Quite well. We've been friends since she moved to Ponyville."

"Hm. Think you could pass the message along?" The Inquisitor put a small card on the table. "She should give us a call sometime. We'd love to talk with her about the shoot-out."

"O-of course. She really isn't in any trouble, though?"

"Not at all," the Inquisitor said. "We're quite impressed with how she handled herself, though tracking down the people behind the shootout is its own problem." She paused, then leaned over, examining Vinyl. "This is the one that got damaged, right?"

"Yes," Rarity said. "She's made excellent recovery."

"Did Octavia do the repairs?"

"I'm afraid I don't know, darling," Rarity said. "She might have. She knows how to use a wrench, which is a fair bit more than I know."

The Inquisitor leaned in closely, examining Vinyl. "She seems to have accidentally covered the service plate, but otherwise, I can hardly tell that this thing was shot at."

Shot almost five times, actually, because she'd jumped in front of Octavia.

The Inquisitor leaned in close, examining the visor. "Must have been expensive to repair this thing."

"I wouldn't know about that," Rarity said.

"Really? I'd have assumed that Everfree ate the costs."

Rarity frowned. "Well, maybe, but I don't know, darling. I'm more of a hanger-on, as it were."

"Ah, right. Forgive me." Indigo reached over, towards Vinyl's throat, where some of the beige paneling was.

Vinyl grabbed her wrist.

The Inquisitor froze, eyes flicking over to Vinyl's hand, then into Vinyls visor.

"I would appreciate," Vinyl said slowly, "if you asked first."

The Inquisitor rolled her eyes, breaking her hand free of Vinyl's grip easily. However, she returned to her seat. "I shouldn't take up more of your time," she said. "Let Miss Melody know that she should give us a call." She picked up the soda, tapping the card, then looked into Vinyl's face-plate one last time.

Then, she turned and left, hooves tapping quickly.

Rarity let out a long slow breath. "My word, Vinyl, you scared me half to death with that," she said.

"She was trying to see if my chip had been removed," Vinyl said, tapping her throat. "You access it from the service plate, right?"

Rarity frowned, then nodded. "Perhaps. But you practically confirmed that."

"Or confirmed that I was purchased by someone from an AI rights activist group," Vinyl said breezily. "I've also had just about enough of people talking about me like I'm not a pony." She swished her empty cup, then beckoned to Jiffy. "Maybe make it something a lot harder this time, buddy."

"This is stupid."

"I know."

"It's going to explode when you pull the trigger."

"Just makes it funner."

"Are you insane?"

"I'm a scientist," Sunset replied. "We all are."

Octavia let out a frustrated sigh, turning her gaze back to the...ugh...'bass cannon'. The insane, cobbled together contraption was, currently, a battery attached to a music box with a barrel glued onto it with some sort of wonder-adhesive. It was currently playing Beethooven's Fifth, on a Goddamned lyre, in increasing volume like a homicidal jack-in-the-box.

It was absolutely going to explode.

"What is even the point of this thing?" Octavia asked.

"Sonic weapons are a huge theoretical," Sunset said. "The flash-bang is a simple device. Proper sound manipulation, though, can be focused, directed...devastating. The simple fact is that forcefields don't block sound. If I created a forcefield, this thing could probably just go through it and hit me. Furthermore, the sound of this thing firing would still be deafening. If it hit a forcefield, it might stun an Alicorn anyway."

"Might?"

"Well, we haven't tested it yet," Sunset said. "I could even just throw up a forcefield around us before pulling the trigger. We'll see if that stops it."

"If it requires all of this--" Octavia said, gesturing to the lab equipment, "to fire this thing, how are we going to do that in the field?"

"The idea is that we can replace all of this," Sunset said. "With a pony who is, fundamentally, attuned to sound on a magical level."

"I beg your pardon?"

Sunset pointed at her. "Someone whose special talent is music, for example."

"You're not serious," Octavia said. "I don't even want to look at this thing, Sunset. There's no way this is safe to fire."

"Is it safer than tangoing with an Alicorn?"

Octavia groaned, falling back into her chair.

"Like the one who is currently trying to track you down?"

Octavia groaned again, leaning back. "Fine, I might use it. But couldn't we make it...smaller?"

"The point of using sonic instead of bullets is power," Sunset replied, turning back to the bass cannon. "We can always up the size of the bullet, but if this works, then it'll be devastating. At the very least, the blast could neutralize an Inquisitor or even a Wonderbolt Captain. Either of those, while incredibly dangerous, are still just ponies, and are susceptible to explosives."

Octavia sighed. "Sometimes..."

She trailed off. Sunset didn't say anything, instead fiddling with one of the dials and recording a note on the cannon.

"Sometimes I wish I'd been able to lead a normal life."

"I like to think all of us do," Sunset said. "I was rich as Tartarus, Octavia. I had life as good as it got." She chuckled. "But I eventually saw the cracks, and when I did, I couldn't go back."

Octavia nodded. "Oh, how life was simple back then."

"Was it ever simple?" Sunset asked.

"Not really. But I didn't have to worry about the nature of good and evil, or how I was going to help slay a half-dozen false goddesses and an army of near-indestructible mechanical warriors. No, I just had to worry about paying rent, my failing career, and pressure from my bastard parents."

"So, normal stuff. A—aside from that last one, anyway," Sunset chuckled. "At least, I hope so. I didn't...know my birth parents, so..."

"Really?"

Sunset nodded. "Raised by Celestia. It was an...interesting childhood, and I'll leave it at that."

"Raised by...her. The goddess of the sun."

"That close, her light could burn, and it certainly blinded me," Sunset whispered. "Until I opened my eyes, one day, and heard the weeping that I left in my wake. Then I began to think more about what I was doing."

Octavia closed her eyes. "Yes. I wouldn't trade this for everything. What we're doing is right, and that, in the end, is the most important thing. Every sacrifice along the way...it'll just make the ending sweeter, won't it?"

"Perhaps. Or we'll just be glad that it's finally done."

They shared a laugh. "Though I think I'll always wish I could just...I don't know, go on vacation or something."

Sunset laughed. "Now, that would be properly boring."

They paused, then Octavia opened her eyes and met Sunset's gaze. "And completely uninteresting."

"Not even worth looking into."

"And if I was somepony looking into me..."

"And you went on vacation..."

"And gave a completely normal explanation for what I'd found interesting..."

"Then I'd just go somewhere else!" Sunset finished, clapping her hands.

"Where the hell would I even go on a vacation, anyway?" Octavia exclaimed.

"Um, hello? We have partners, Octavia. The Dazzle Den, remember? Worst comes to worst, they could hide you away," Sunset said.

"And help provide alibis," Octavia muttered.

"And you could say you chose there because you heard they were changing for the better and wanted to see for yourself."

"And you want me to check to make sure?" Octavia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"While you're there anyway," Sunset said with a shrug, in a tone that meant that that was exactly what she wanted. "We'll talk to D-5 while she's here, see if she can work it out."

"That would be excellent," Octavia said. "But what about here? Won't you need me?"

"Eh. We'll be covered on all fronts. Everfree has other ponies they can send out, and others can work on helping Vinyl get settled."

"You, included?"

Sunset nodded slowly.

"I still wonder why," Octavia muttered. "Why take this personal interest in us."

"Some things in life, you'll never get answers to," Sunset said. "So instead, let's ask that fun question: 'What happens when we fire the bass cannon?'"

A shimmering green field appeared around the two of them.

"Are you certain that'll stop it?" Octavia asked.

"If I was, I wouldn't have spent two days working on it," Sunset said. "Down range!"