Cyberpony Y2K

The Canton of Research was as busy as it always seemed to be.

Indigo stepped into the room, hand(and her other arm, too) behind her back, as a couple of ponies in lab coats rushed past.

And in the center, upon a small stage, was the Princess of Research, Trixie Lulamoon.

Trixie didn't wear white. She wore dark blue and purple, with stars along a flowing cloak that rippled in the same ethereal wind her hair seemed to. Her flowing white mane also glittered with stars, and Indigo couldn't tell if it was natural or it was just because she wanted it to.

"No, no, no! Trixie demands these blueprints be remade, remade now, and remade properly!" she snapped, shoving blueprints onto an abashed looking scientist. "Honestly. You! Progress on the next FG-droid designs?"

"Uh—coming well, Your Highness. I think the first two are ready to test, but the other three need some time."

"Ugh, fine. Just get it done. And you! Where are those peanut butter crackers!"

Indigo hesitated, seeing the Princess's finger pointed directly at her. "Um--"

"Wait, you're an Inquisitor," Trixie said, before hopping down from the stage. Her metal hooves thudded loudly, cape rippling. "SNIPS! SNAILS! BRING ME MY SNACKS!" she bellowed. "Official business of some sort?"

"Well, I--"

Indigo paused as an ear-shattering, mind-numbing metal screeching filled the room. She looked around, almost reaching for her guns, before seeing a pair of young colts dragging a massive metal cabinet over. Paint lining came off the floor in ribbons as the tray scraped across the floor. The young colts were sweating profusely, and seemingly barely managed to get the massive cabinet over.

Trixie calmly levitated off a teapot, teacup, and a fairly large box of generic brand peanut butter crackers, far larger than any sane pony would eat in a single sitting.

"You were saying?"

Indigo cleared her throat. "Right. I--"

Snips and Snails chose that moment to drag the massive cabinet away. Indigo slowly moved her eyes to follow them, as the other scientists simply moved around them without slowing down. They didn't seem the least surprised, either.

"Wouldn't...wheels be faster?" Indigo asked slowly.

"Hah! The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn't trust wheels!" She popped an entire package of peanut butter crackers into her mouth, and began chewing. While still chewing, she asked, "You were saying?"

Trying to avoid a look of disgust targeted at a Princess, Indigo cleared her throat. "Indigo Zap, ma'am. Reporting for the...you...you got my letter, right?"

Trixie slowed her chewing, thinking. She swallowed. "Oh! Right, yes. Trixie had something she wanted to talk to you about as well. Let us--"

The roof exploded.

Indigo whirled, drawing a gun and aiming, watching as a great something flew through the air, sending small concrete chunks down on the scientists.

Thankfully, they all moved away before it crashed, massive metal wings outstretched.

Trixie's horn—horns, as she had a second, entirely mechanical one—both lit up. The thing lifted into the air, limbs hanging limp.

"A Wonderbolt?" Indigo asked.

If so, the android had seen better days. One of its arms was hanging limp, barley attached still, and it was otherwise riddled with holes. Not...not quite bullet holes, either. Perhaps that had something to do with the diamond knives sticking out of it at various points.

Trixie let out a long sigh. "You have got to be kidding me," she muttered. "With me, Miss Zap. To my office."

She dragged the Wonderbolt through the air behind her, as the scientists in the room slowly began their work again.

Indigo shook her head, following the Princess into a massive round door. The door slid apart, permitting Trixie, the Wonderbolt, and Indigo to enter the room.

Trixie dropped the Wonderbolt unceremoniously onto a workbench. The android groaned, something akin to a synthetic cry of pain.

"A full flight. Seven Wonderbolts," Trixie muttered, an array of tools flying around her. She began the arduous task of putting the Wonderbolt back together—or at least, together enough so that it didn't die. "Seven Wonderbolts versus a bunch of primitive barbarians living in the arctic wastes. And again—AGAIN, mind you, this is the second flight I've sent out—this one is the only one that comes back." She paused. "Well, that certainly makes intrigued about this one. Did you retrieve the item?"

"N-n-n-no, sssssir," the Wonderbolt drawled. "Ma-ma—major da-"

"Shh. I'm busy. I'm going to put you to sleep for now, hmm? Fix you up. Wonder if Spitfire would let me keep you. Eh, she won't miss you."

She detached the Wonderbolt's breastplate—which came off way easier than either of them thought it should, judging by her surprised expression. Then, she reached down, taking the Wonderbolt's power core.

The glowing blow sphere was linked up with several other ones, but two seemed to have been damaged. Trixie tutted, then began clicking a few switches.

After a second, the Wonderbolt fell still. Trixie stood up, dusting off her hands. "That's done," she muttered. "I'll figure that out when we're done. Give me one second to fetch your missive."

She teleported, leaving Indigo looking all around until she found her going through a filing cabinet. "Aha! Let's see...ah, yes. You were wanting to talk about new hands?" She frowned. "What's wrong with the old ones?"

Indigo held up her remaining one, and an arm that disappeared below the wrist, ending on a small metal ring. "I caught another bullet," she said. "And, uh, was hoping for something sturdier."

Trixie paused. Then she chuckled. "Yes, well, we have armored ones, but Trixie isn't certain why this requires her attention."

"I...I need help, Princess," Indigo said quietly.

Trixie's brow furrowed.

"They...the old ones...I never acclimated. All that time, and...I was constantly feeling itching. And...and after I took another bullet, I...damn it all, I still feel it! I swear! I feel that first one, but...the hand...it's gone. The hand that took that first bullet, four months ago, I feel it, and..." She fell back, into a seat, putting a hand to her head. "I don't think I can...handle the better cybernetics," she said.

"Ah. You're incompatible, but you don't want your boss to know," Trixie said. She stepped over to a massive monitor, flicking it on. After logging on, she flicked through a couple programs before finding the one she wanted. "Are your other cybernetics working fine?"

"The wing brace, yes, but...I've had that one for years. Then the reflex chip's been fine, as well as...the 'Vocalizer'."

"Phantom limb pain, following a major injury on replaced limbs," Trixie muttered. "Not the first time that's happened. Give me your hands."

Indigo obliged. Trixie pulled two cloth wraps with wires connecting to the monitor. She quickly wrapped one around each of Indigo's wrists. The monitor's screen changed to an X-ray of her hands.

Trixie sucked in a breath. "If Trixie," she said, "was a peasant of lower station...she might say certain funny words."

"I...I don't get what I'm looking at, Princess," Indigo said.

"See these lines?"

"Yeah?"

"That's your nervous system. And that is the part that seems to have been completely fried."

"Fucking hell," Indigo cursed.

Trixie didn't object to the curse. "Your fears were correct," she said. "This is a mild case, but you've still been cyber-jolted."

"What? Mild? This—this was months worth of pain and suffering! What does a bad case look like?"

"Well, usually, parts of the brain have been fried at that point," Trixie said. "Thankfully, you're not that bad. I'm pretty certain that the Inquisitors like they're brains."

Indigo sighed, leaning back in her chair.

"Well, you should be fine for a while," Trixie said, "but I can certainly get your hands replaced with something that should be...better for you. The problem will be upgrading anything else."

"Some of those upgrades don't have lower end options," Indigo said.

"What? No! No more prosthetics! I'm only replacing your hands because you need those!" Trixie shook her head. "Look. This could have been worse, but at this point it's manageable. You should be fine for doing anything most ponies need to do."

"I'm not most ponies. I'm an Inquisitor. If I can't keep up--"

"You can't."

Indigo winced, then shrank back into her chair.

Trixie took the cloth wraps off her wrists, dropping them by the monitor. "Trixie..." Trixie bit her lip, then sighed. She sat down, opposite Indigo. "Look. Before I was a Princess, I was a traveling showmare. I did magic shows. And...not even very good ones, either, though I command you to never, ever, ever, ever share that I said that."

Indigo nodded.

"But at one point, Trixie was...showed up. Another pony outperformed me, saving a bunch of ponies from a couple really crazy ponies.

"I hated the feeling that I was lesser. I've been where you are, Indigo. You know what I did?"

"Um...if I remember correctly, you...upgraded yourself?"

Trixie nodded, pointing to her second horn. "I built this. Next magic show was bigger, better than anything I did before." In a flash of pink light, a teaset appeared in the air. She poured another cup of tea, then asked, "How many sugars?"

"Uh...make it four, I'm having a bad day."

Trixie added the sugars, then handed the cup to Indigo. Indigo took it in her offhand, using her stump to help balance it.

"I kept experimenting, making newer, better inventions. Turns out, everything I lacked in magical talent I made up for in inventiveness. Eventually, my work was recognized, by Princess Technicia. When she went off to do Princess Celestia's work, I became Princess of Research." Trixie sipped her tea. "So. You can't succeed exactly how you wanted to. Do you give up?"

"Of course not."

"Exactly!" Trixie grinned, then used her magic to open a drawer on the opposite side of the room. From it came a pair of mechanical hands, which floated over.

"If I'm to add an armor plate, I'll need to modify it slightly," she said, turning them over. "They should, however, be easier on your nervous system, and, more importantly, your brain, than normal advanced cybernetics."

"Really?" Indigo asked, leaning over to look at them. "Cool! I--"

"Indigo, these...are prototypes," Trixie said. "They may randomly stop working. And in true prototype fashion, they have some kinks I'm ironing out. Namely, power."

"Power...?"

"Do you know where normal cybernetics get their power from?"

"Nope."

Trixie sighed. "From your innate magical power," she explained. "But it converts that to a more conventional electric charge, which is how some people get...fried." She shrugged. "This one, however, brings its own magic battery to the table. The problem is that I can't get the charge to last. It'll be fine if you replace the gem every day, but it only lasts about thirty-eight hours before they suddenly stop working."

"That's bad."

"Yes, well...I'm trying to figure out how the mages of old got enchantments to stick," Trixie said. "In specific, I know there's a magic amulet in the northern wastes, outside the Crystal Province. Hence..." She let her gaze trail to the Wonderbolt. Then she sighed. "I'll have to talk to Spitfire about that."

"So..." Indigo picked up one of the hands, examining it. "Just replace the battery every morning, right?"

"Yes. I'll get it fixed up eventually so you don't need to do that." Trixie stood up, then said, "At the same time, there is something I've been meaning to get the Inquisitors to look into."

"Really? I mean, I'm only Grade Three, so...not too much I can help with, but okay."

Trixie walked over to the monitor, turning it back on. She swapped over to another window, displaying a blueprint for some kind of android.

"Princess...please tell me you never put a pony heart into an android."

"What? No! That wouldn't even--" She hesitated. "That probably wouldn't even do anything! Why would I do that?"

"It's just what the rumors say about Diamond Duster," Indigo said.

Trixie rolled her eyes. "The Great and Powerful Trixie resents such an implication that she built such a unique specimen, and then lost it." She hesitated. "Though, actually, I am asking you to keep an eye out for a separate unique specimen that I lost, so..."

Indigo stood up, stepping over to the monitor.

"I was experimenting with a new line of bodyguards for little fillies," Trixie explained. "Making them look like fillies is something of a style. Which leads to an interesting problem: the more weapons, the safer your filly is. However, in a body this small, the conventional power core cluster is too large. Meaning you can't put as many guns on. I had six different designs worked out for some new Filly Guard androids. Five of them failed."

"And that last one ran away?" Indigo guessed.

"Stolen," Trixie said. She opened up a picture, complete with a height chart. "Several of the scientists took to calling her 'Lil' Sweetie', so that's what this model was called. The problem being that it's going to be quite difficult to reproduce the power core design without her." She grimaced. "Trixie...had not quite finished running diagnostics, either, so she's not certain what worked, what broke, and what was essential."

"Okay...so, who was the last pony assigned to this case?"

"No pony."

Indigo blinked. "Uh, okay...how long ago was this?"

"Eight months."

"Eight—Princess, why was no one ever sent after this?"

"Well, probably because I told neither Spitfire nor Midnight."

"What?"

"Indigo, please, no shouting," Trixie said, holding up her hands. "Let's stay calm about this, hmm?"

"Princess, how...how well armed was this thing?"

"Well..." Trixie pushed a button. Immediately a dozen different weapon displays came up on the monitor.

"What the..." Indigo stared at the screen in shock. "Five-mill machine gun, rocket launcher, extendable katars...what even IS a katar?"

"Well, it's this sort of blade that--"

"Princess! Why does it need all these?"

"Well, it's a stress test," Trixie explained. "The idea was not, 'how much does it need' but rather 'how much could I put on without overloading the power core and causing the robot to explode'?"

"Okay, sure. Why did you not keep a better eye on it?"

"Well, of course it was guarded," Trixie said. "Unfortunately, they seemed to have decided that someone else's bits were just as good a way to pay off their tax debt."

"I'm sorry?"

"Yes, truly atrocious behavior. Especially when we're so generous with employee benefits, which, some argue, they shouldn't get because they are not employees--"

"Go back a step, Princess. What do you mean, they were tax debtors?"

Trixie paused. "Oh, did you not know?" she asked. "Tax evaders, or otherwise debtors, have the option to pay off their debt by participating in cybernetics testing. Usually, they die, but some of them pay it off by providing manual labor instead."

"What? I—hold up! Princess, why?"

"Hmm? What do you mean?" Trixie frowned, then her eyes widened. "Oh. No, no, no, Indigo, I didn't change anything about that. It's been this way for almost three hundred years."

Indigo stared. "Wait, so...that guy Minuette and I busted for tax evasion last month..."

"Probably somewhere around here, but I don't handle that," Trixie said, waving it off. "Is something wrong?"

"I...I guess not," Indigo admitted. Whatever. That...that isn't important right now. I can ask Princess Midnight about it later.

"Ah. Well, feel free to come to me with any information you find, or if you need to talk to anypony, I can arrange it."

Indigo looked up at the monitor. The little white unicorn android, with all the extra guns, and the pink-and-purple mane falling low over her forehead. "Yeah, I can do this. If I see 'Lil Sweetie', I'll bring her right back here, Princess."