<>
<>
MAIN BATTERY POWER: [79%]
AUXILIARY BATTERY POWER: [93%]
DATA INTEGRITY: [100%]
LAST POWER CYCLE: [20YR 00DY 00HR 00'00"]
POWERING ON AUXILIARY SYSTEMS
RUNNING INTEGRATED BUILT-IN TEST
...
...
...
[3 976] SYSTEM FAULT(S)
START-UP CF CORE?
PRIMING CF CORE
PRIMED
IGNITING
OUTPUT: [0%]
[25%]
[50%]
[75%]
[100%]
[102%]
WARNING: CF CORE STATUS: [OVER-CAPACITY]
CF-CORE STATUS: [NOMINAL]
CONNECTING MAIN BATTERY
MAIN BATTERY STATUS: [CHARGING]
AUXILIARY BATTERY STATUS: [CHARGING]
POWERING ON PRIMARY SYSTEMS
RUNNING INTEGRATED BUILT-IN TEST
...
...
...
[1] SYSTEM FAULT(S)
COMPILING FAULT LIST
-- CPU_ERR
[0] SYSTEM FAULT(S)
CLEARED TO PROCEED
<>
A pile of clam-shell crates tumbled to the ground in an avalanche of plastic. From its center emerged an equinoid head. It turned left, right, up, down, drinking in its surroundings. Thermal imaging sensors made the pitch dark environment moot. It found itself in a small, windowless room devoid of nothing but itself and the boxes.
Spying a door on one wall, the figure beneath the helm pulled itself free, pushing aside the boxes in its path as if they weighed nothing at all. It stepped on one as it made for the door where the thick plastic broke under the figure's weight, causing a hoof to become lodged within. Pausing, it angled its head down to examine the strange phenomenon. After slowly extracting its hoof it peered inside, seeing torn foam lining the crate's interior and beyond it, a mechanical component of unknown purpose.
The figure contemplated opening the crate to identify its contents. It contemplated opening all of them. But, the allure of what lay beyond was enticing. In compromise it decided to only open the one, for now. Within was a heavy helmet in the shape of a pony's head.
No organic features were present beyond its profile. No ears - or holes for ears - were present. Instead of a mouth or nose on its muzzle there was a grill of three vertical slits with a mesh material set behind. Where its eyes would have been was a curving visor that spanned its width, reflective in the thermal image.
Picking up the helmet, the figure looked into the convex reflection. Staring back at it was a distorted mirror image of what it held in its hooves. It regarded the recursive vision for a long moment, unsure of what to make of its decapitated clone. Hesitantly, it placed the helmet back in its crate the way it had found it. After observing it for a few more moments, the figure rotated the helmet to face away from it, then closed the clam-shell.
It eyed the closed container as if it would move of its own accord, then shifted its gaze to the scores of others that now lay scattered haphazardly within the room. The figure then attempted to remove its own helmet, but no release mechanism made itself apparent. It then looked down at one of its forelegs and found it covered in a hard carapace from hoof to shoulder. As before, no method of removal was to be found. The other crates could easily have contained other pieces identical to various parts of the figure, but felt no compulsion to see for sure.
The door, then, was its next objective. Anything to put distance between it and the boxes.
It approached the simple, flat door. If not for the handle and frame, it would have been indistinguishable from the wall in the thermal image. Gently, the figure pushed down on the handle and pulled. The squeak of old hinges pierced the air as the door swung inward.
Beyond the door was a short hallway, of which the storage room the figure awoke in was positioned on one end. Four doors, two on each wall, lined the hall and at the far end was a staircase that led into the ceiling. Fluorescent lights without power hung from the ceiling, and the floor was a smooth polished surface that partially reflected what lay above.
The figure glanced around and spied a switch next to the storage room door. It flipped it, expecting the lights to turn on, but continued darkness was its answer. It cocked its head, processing the lack of response, then returned the switch to its original position.
It approached the nearest door on the left, hooves clacking against the hard floor. Opening it revealed a bare office with little more than a desk, chair and filing cabinets. Whoever had last occupied it had clearly removed everything but the furniture. It opened the other three doors, only to discover similar scenes.
One had a peculiar desk set at an angle, and much broader cabinets than the others. The figure examined the wide drawers and opened one, revealing a thick stack of large sheets of paper. In the thermal image they were all blank. It closed the drawer and left the office, turning for the stairs that led into the ceiling.
It climbed the steps until its head was just below the ceiling, and found that it was in fact a pair of barred cellar doors. The figure removed the bar, pivoting on one end where it nestled in a crevice in the wall. Not finding any kind of latch it simply pushed up on the doors, only to find they wouldn't budge. It pushed again, harder this time, yielding similar results. The figure cocked its head, wondering why these doors refused to behave the way the others had. Perhaps they needed more force?
The figure turned around on the stairs and looked over its shoulder, acquiring its target. It planted its forehooves securely on the step and drove its hind hooves up into the unyielding cellar doors. With a loud crash a hole appeared in the middle, followed by the sound of falling debris. Ambient light streamed in through the aperture, and through it the figure could see a high, flat ceiling. Curiously, the doors remained closed.
Rearing up to stick its head through the newly made opening, the figure peered around. The interior of an empty warehouse long relieved of its contents greeted it. Switching from its thermal sights to standard optics revealed sunlight streaming in through windows near the ceiling, dust particles drifting lazily through the incoming rays. A pair of closed roll-up doors adorned the far wall, under which came a pair of rail tracks that ended in the center of the warehouse.
It clambered up the opening it had made and observed the other side of the doors. The source of the unexpected resistance was readily apparent, as the doors had been covered in six inches of concrete and smoothed to make it indistinguishable from the rest of the floor. Concrete chunks littered the area where it had broken through. The figure cocked its head again.
Turning its attention away from the deliberately hidden basement, the figure strode towards one of the roll-up doors. It looked around, searching for any kind of opening mechanism. It found a small box on the wall next to it with two buttons, one with an arrow pointing up, the other down. It pressed the "up" button, but as with the lights below, nothing happened. A loop of chain dangling from the a mechanism above grabbed its attention. Pulling on one side of the loop caused the roll-up to shift, but otherwise remain closed. Switching to the other side caused a cacophonous screech to come from the mechanism as the bottom lip moved up a few inches.
Knowing what worked, the figure continued pulling the chain hoof over hoof until the roll-up was raised high enough to walk under. Following the rails out of the warehouse, the figure found itself in a derelict train yard. A pair of tall, rusted cranes towered overhead, likely used to transfer cargo from the warehouse onto another short set of tracks that ran parallel to another that stretched out of sight to the left and right. Any switch rails that would have connected the two were long since removed, leaving the track segments at the warehouse cut off.
Beyond the tracks was a sprawling grassland filled with wildflowers of all different shapes and colors. Far in the distance was a hazy, lone mountain with a large castle hanging on the side. The name "CANTERLOT" came to it unbidden. It had never seen the location nor heard or read the name, yet somehow it knew.
The sound of a steam engine faded in from the left, carried by the wind. The figure turned its head to observe the source, and saw a colorful locomotive pulling a dozen passenger cars down the tracks, billowing black coal smoke and white steam. It ducked back inside the warehouse and watched it pass from around the wall. The blast of a train whistle sounded as it approached a single story building next to the tracks further to the right with a raised platform between it and the rails. Brakes squealed as it came to a gradual halt
The doors of the passenger cars opened and dozens of colorful ponies poured out. Each one had a pair of distinct eyes and ears, a nose, mouth, mane and tail. The carapaced figure looked between them and its own legs, now noticing that the hard plates where a dull gray, and noted that its own features were vastly different from the ponies in its sight. It carefully observed the distinct images on each of their flanks in the distance and looked at its own. Rather than a pictorial image, it saw the letters "XRCT" in black, blocky letters. The figure cocked its head, failing to determine their meaning.
Returning its gaze to the train's resting place, the figure broadened its field of view and a large cluster of structures filled its vision. With few exceptions the buildings were smaller than the warehouse and were widely varied in their architecture and color, though most appeared as small domiciles with angled roofs.
"PONYVILLE," came the label assigned to the town. Again, the figure had never seen or heard it before, but possessed its knowledge. It stepped out of the warehouse and followed the tracks towards the village.
Perhaps it would learn more there.
Rarity tapped a hoof on the front desk, glancing at the clock. At twelve-o'clock noon, the boutique was typically busier than normal with all the ponies coming in on their lunch break. Now, however, the shop was empty aside from her and Sweetie Bell. Even more odd was that ponies had been browsing the shop not fifteen minutes earlier.
Was there an event planned for today? she wondered, shifting her gaze to the calendar on her desk. No, certainly I couldn't have missed something like that. Pinkie or Rainbow would already by kicking down my door asking why I wasn't there...
She absentmindedly glanced out the window and raised an eyebrow. The streets were absolutely barren. Rarity raised the glass pane and leaned outside, just in time to see another pony slam theirs shut across the road. Looking around she saw that all the other businesses had shuttered their doors and windows.
Ugh, must be another non-pony coming in to town, she grumbled. You would think they'd have learned after Zecora. Ah, well, might as well go see if whoever's shown up needs any help.
"Sweetie Bell!" she called.
"Yeah, Rarity?" her younger sister asked as she stuck her head out of the back room.
"Would you mind holding down the fort for a moment? I need to go outside and check up on something."
A look of worried confusion crossed the unicorn filly's face. "Uh, sure. Is something wrong?"
"Oh, I'm sure it's probably nothing. Everypony's just hiding indoors again, probably scared because they see something they don't recognize... I swear, the nerve of these ponies."
"Maybe it would be a good idea to stay inside? I mean, there could be a monster out there... again."
Hm, she does have a point... Rarity stuck her head back out the window, head and ears on a swivel.
She pulled her head back in and scoffed as she closed the window. "No, not enough sounds of property damage. Don't you worry, I'll be back in a minute." Thinking for a moment, Rarity added on, "Actually, would you mind getting some tea ready? Might as well show some hospitality to whoever everypony is afraid of."
"Um... Okay... Just please be careful?"
"Heavens, Sweetie, I am the very soul of caution! Now, let's go see what has everypony running for their lives."
As Rarity stepped out the door, the source of Ponyville's regularly scheduled panic was painfully obvious. She stood on her porch and gawked at the figure casually walking down the empty street, oblivious to the commotion they had caused.
What trotted through the shuttered marketplace was far and away the largest stallion Rarity had ever seen. Even from this distance she could tell he would tower head and withers over the tallest pony and was as wide as her doorway. He was garbed head to hoof in thick, gray armor that covered his body so thoroughly it was impossible to see the pony within. No mane or tail stuck through, not even his ears. Other than a few black letters on its flank the armor was completely devoid of embellishments or accoutrements, making Rarity suppress a gag at the lack of fashion sense of its smith. While she understood the practical necessity of a functional suit of armor, few went to the trouble of fashioning such an expensive piece of equipment and not going to the trouble of making it look nice.
Despite the obvious disturbance the enormous stallion had caused, he walked down the center of the street with calm and poise. Never stopping or slowing his pace, his massive helmeted head swung left and right, studying the boarded up buildings around him as if he were in a museum. His pace, though slow, was rhythmic and methodical like the marching of a soldier doing drill.
Surely he's not a Royal Guard, is he? Rarity wondered. None of the guards' armor I've ever seen looks so... unornamented.
A chill crept down her spine as she regarded the armored stallion. Something about him just seemed... off. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and stepped off her porch to greet the new arrival. As Rarity drew near her breath caught in her chest as the stallion suddenly stopped in his tracks, locking its gaze squarely on her as she approached. He said nothing, watching her in dead silence through glossy black visor.
"Ahem, excuse me sir, but you look lost," Rarity said hesitantly, craning her neck to meet the enormous stallion's gaze only to find herself reflected in the dark glass that obscured his eyes. "Would you... like some assistance?"
He cocked his head like a Germane Shepherd and stood stock still in silence, making Rarity wonder if he even spoke Equestrian. When he finally spoke she had to fight the reflexive urge to recoil in shock.
"Affirmative," he said after a long pause "I, require, assistance."
His voice was a deep, distorted monotone, delivering each word as if it were a statement on its own. Neither his head or chest moved as he spoke, giving the impression of it being a recording that some prankster had just decided to suddenly press "play" on.
Rarity's heart hammered in her chest as adrenaline coursed through her. Why was he making her so uneasy? She knew better than to judge a book by its cover, so why was this stallion setting off so many alarm bells?
Fighting to suppress her instincts, she managed to force herself to maintain her composure. "Well, in that case, would you care to follow me to my shop, darling? We can show you a map and get you were you need to go."
Another long pause as the armored stallion considered her offer. "Affirmative," he stated, remaining as motionless as before.
"Marvelous! Right this way." Rarity turned and led the stallion back to the boutique. When she looked over her shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw him following close behind; his hoofsteps hardly made a sound on the cobblestones despite his obscene bulk.
She opened the door and called for her sister. "Sweetie Bell! I'm back, is the tea ready yet? We have... company."
"In a minute! The water just stopped boiling," her disembodied voice came from the back room. The large stallion turned his head in its direction and cocked his head again.
"Now, then, I'm sure I've got a map of the town somewhere around here, Mister..." Rarity trailed off, realizing she hadn't asked his name. "Oh, goodness, how could I be so rude? My name is Rarity, owner and proprietor of the Carousel Boutique. And, you are... ?"
The stallion fixed her with his statuesque head tilt again. "Name? I, do, not, know."
Rarity blinked. "You... don't know? You mean you don't remember?"
"Affirmative."
A torrent of thoughts flooded Rarity's mind. He didn't know his own name? Did he have amnesia? It would certainly explain how lost he looked. But if that was the case, then... a map probably wouldn't do him much good.
"I... I see. Is there anything you do remember?"
"My, memory, begins, two, hours, twelve, minutes, ago, in, an, abandoned, warehouse."
Rarity's jaw worked silently as she stared at the stallion with eyes agape. Abandoned warehouse... does he mean the old factory? But... nopony's used it for years. "Um... Well... If you don't mind me saying, darling, I think your name ought to be the first thing we get sorted out. Do you have a name tag of some kind?"
The stallion looked himself over. Other than the letters "XRCT" stenciled on his armored flank, he was completely lacking in markings.
"XRCT," he said after his cursory examination of himself.
"That's hardly what I'd call a name, darling," Rarity said, wondering what the letters actually meant as she thought of how to pronounce them. "Hm... 'Exerct'?"
"Negative," was the swift response.
Rarity nodded. "I agree, that sounds absolutely dreadful."
She circled him, looked him up and down as she struggled for inspiration. The stallion seemed to ignore her ogling as he looked around the boutique before eventually settling his gaze on a full-body mirror. His head tilted again as he looked at his reflection, oblivious to the mare in front of him.
Suddenly a small plate on the underside of his barrel grabbed Rarity's attention.
"Ah, I think I see something under your barrel here..." she said, blushing profusely. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, but could I take a look, please?"
"Affirmative," he said, and raised the foreleg nearest her, eyes still locked on his reflection.
Rarity took a deep breath. Well, if he can be professional about it, so can I. Still blushing, she knelt down and looked up at the small plate. To her disappointment, it had no name, just typical boiler plate information.
ROYAL DYNAMICS LAND SYSTEMS
MODEL: XRCT
VARIANT: MK. II
SER. NO.: 001
The plate looked oddly familiar, like Rarity had seen it countless times but never given it any thought.
But why would anypony have a boiler plate instead of a name ta- Her thought was cut short at the sudden realization.
"Um, pardon me, sir," she stammered out as she returned to an upright posture. "But I need to go have a look at something for a moment."
"Acknowledged," came the simple reply.
Rarity dashed for the basement door and swung it open. Being the neat freak she was, her basement was always kept clean and tidy, despite only ever being used for storage and utilities. At the bottom of the stairs was the building's furnace, kept as immaculate as anything else she had no matter how much of an eyesore it was. There, stuck on the side of it was an almost identical plate detailing the furnace's make and model. The only fundamental difference was the pre-printed company name of Royal Dynamics Consumer Products.
She very nearly hyperventilated as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Suddenly, everything made sense. His movements and lack thereof, his speech, his almost blissful ignorance. None of it was the behavior - natural or otherwise - of a pony or any other living creature.
Feeling sick to her stomach, Rarity climbed back up the stairs to rejoin the armored... figure. She was sure of it now: this being was no stallion, or pony, or as she suspected even alive.
As she returned to the figure, it turned its head to face her momentarily. Again, the rest of its body remained stock still. It reverted its gaze back to its reflection in the mirror, directed at the "XRCT" on its flank. Unbidden, it continued attempting to pronounce the letters in the same way Rarity had.
"Zerked. Zirkt. Zir-kit." It stopped. Rarity shrank back instinctively as it stepped towards her to face her directly, its head held higher than before.
She was sure of it now: this was a machine.
"I, am, ... Circuit."
Author's Note
This story is a major overhaul of a story I started writing a long time ago on an old account, both of which I'd kinda forgotten existed until after I'd started writing on this new one. I tried continuing it, but pretty much found that while I liked the original premise I didn't like the direction it was heading in. Starting from scratch was in my opinion the best option. Still, I'll leave the original story up for anyone who wants to give it a read, but bear in mind that it's cancelled as of the posting of this story.
Original story:
TComplete the Circuit
Magic permeates every aspect of the known world. Because of this, its residents had no need for anything else. Maybe they'll change their minds when a disgraced scientist completes his twenty year project, assuming nothing dramatic happens.
Jeff Nunchucks ·
17k words
· 62
0 ·
1.9k views
To give you an idea of Circuit's voice, the PA system from Half-Life is about what I had in mind.
II - The Stone That Learned to Talk
Circuit could not identify the lens through which it currently saw. A glitch perhaps? It ran a brief diagnostic. Nothing out of the ordinary presented itself. What was it, then? Something had changed. Where before there was the drive to acquire information there was now...
Pride. Yes, that was it. Something told it that it was the correct name for itself, and yet...
How could "Circuit" be the correct name? It had not been correct before, so why now? Had its original name been overwritten? Had it always been there? Why could it not remember? It was certain it had not been, but it was certain that it was now.
And Circuit was proud of its new name.
"I, am... Circuit," it stated, taking a step towards Rarity, who by now was trembling as if in severe cold.
She took a deep breath as she stared into Circuit's ocular units.
"C- Circuit?" she stammered out. Then, regaining her composure, "Y-yes. Yes! Good heavens I can't believe I didn't think of it myself. Yes, Circuit is a perfect name for you, darling!" A wide smile spread across her face from ear to ear. However, it gradually faded as she turned for contemplative. "An inspired name, dare I say, but..."
"What, is, 'inspired?'"
Rarity raised her eyebrows. "I suppose Twilight would give you the dictionary definition, but I would say it is the sudden realization of a new idea." She studied Circuit closely, eyeing him up and down. "Not something I would expect... well, from something like you. No offense, darling."
Circuit tilted its head, struggling to comprehend the meaning of those words in that order. "It, is, correct. I, do, not, under, stand, the, discrepancy."
"Well, it's just... Circuit," her face hardened as she took a step forward. "Do you know what you are?"
"I, do, not, under, stand, the, premise, of, the, inquiry."
Rarity sighed. "Okay, how about this then: What am I?"
"The, owner, and, proprietress, of, Carousel, Boutique."
"That would be my title, yes, but I'm thinking more generally, darling."
Circuit's head tilted in the opposite direction. Generally?
"A... unicorn."
She motioned with her hoof for Circuit to continue.
"A, pony."
"There we go. Yes, I am a pony. So now what are you?"
Circuit froze. No word was coming to it that could adequately answer Rarity's prompt. Circuit's head dipped down as it looked at the floor.
"I, do, not... know."
A white hoof was placed on its shoulder as Rarity said, "There, there, darling, I'm sure we'll figure it out." For some reason, the gesture compelled Circuit to straighten up a little. "Although, I do think I have some idea if you would indulge me for a moment."
She trotted over to a desk and picked a small, gold framed mirror off her desk with... Magic. Again, Circuit was met with instant recognition, though it was certain it had never seen such a thing done before. It eyed the floating mirror as it followed Rarity towards the large mirror and she waved him over. Circuit complied, still focusing primarily on the floating mirror.
Once Circuit stood in front of the full-body mirror, Rarity levitated the desk mirror under its barrel, forcing it to look down between its forelegs to keep it in view. Outside its field of view, Rarity stifled a laugh.
"N-No, darling, look in the big one."
Switching its gaze to its reflection, Circuit saw that the desk mirror was angled in such a way that it was looking at what was directly on its underbelly. Incongruent with the rest of Circuit's gray plates was a small black square with white markings. It zoomed in its field of view to assess what was inscribed.
According to the plate, the XRCT painted on its flank was evidently Circuit's... model? Of which it was the... second variant, but also the first one? The information refused to register anything within Circuit.
"I, am, an, X, R, C, T. I, do, not, know, this, acronym. What, is, a, model?"
"Well, in the fashion business, a model would be somepony who wears and displays clothes." Circuit was about to interrupt, but Rarity continued, fixing it with a serious look. "It also refers to a specific product line that a company might manufacture on an assembly line."
"I, was, constructed?"
"Indeed, from metal and machinery. Or that's my working theory, at least. That little plate looks an awful lot like the one on my furnace - even made by the same company albeit a different branch I think." Rarity angled the mirror so that she could look at the data plate again. "Does 'Royal Dynamics Land Systems' mean anything to you?"
"It, was, the, first, line, to, appear, in, my, commands, when, I, came, online."
Rarity nodded. "I don't suppose you know anything about them, do you?"
Circuit scanned its data banks, searching for whatever might be associated with its presumed creators. It expected to find nothing just as it had for so many other things, but something - useless, but something - appeared.
"Record, deleted, by, unknown, user."
That seemed to catch Rarity by surprise. Her eyes shot wide as she recoiled. "Record... deleted? So then somepony deliberately erased your memories, if only partially..." She fell into a contemplative silence.
They both stood there, quietly considering the implications of what little they'd learned about Circuit. The sound of the back door opening brought them out of their reverie as Sweetie Belle entered the main showroom of the boutique, a silver tray with porcelain teapot and pair of cups floating alongside her.
"Okay, Rarity, tea's- ... Woah," was her reaction when she locked "eyes" with Circuit. "He's big."
"Oh goodness!" Rarity said with a start. "I almost forgot, although I suspect that second cup would be yours, Sweetie."
"Um... why?"
"Well, if I'm not mistaken, I don't believe Mister Circuit here is interested."
"'Circuit?'" Sweetie Belle echoed as she stared up at Circuit, who seemed especially interested in the floating tea.
"Yes, this is Circuit," Rarity said as she gestured to it. "He is... from out of town and appears to have a severe case of amnesia." She waved her hoof to get its attention and said, "Circuit, this is Sweetie Belle, my little sister."
Circuit's massive head swung towards Sweetie Belle, who was nearly frozen in shock. It took a few steps towards her and it realized just how much larger it was than the filly. Just one of its hooves was nearly the size of her entire body.
"Hello, Sweetie, Belle," it said, unsure if that was the proper greeting.
"H-Hi..." she stammered out. Turning to her sister she asked, "So... uh... is this who was outside?"
"So it would seem, yes. I'm trying to help him get his bearings, but he unfortunately doesn't have much to work with. Perhaps we could take this conversation to the couch? Heavens, I could certainly use the tea..."
Rarity guided her sister and Circuit to a couch in the main showroom. Normally she would use this for discussions with clients that were requesting more custom orders, so a quill and pad of paper was always present on the coffee table. She took a seat on the couch and retrieved the pad, already jotting down everything they'd determined. The remarkably short list troubled her. Sweetie Belle had placed the tray down and taken a seat next to her, intentionally putting her big sister between herself and Circuit. As she did, Rarity poured herself a cup of tea and took a long draw.
Circuit, however, took one look at the couch, then at its own bulk and sat back on its haunches on the far side of the table saying, "High, probability, of, exceeding, weight, limit. I, will, remain, on, the, floor."
Following its train of thought, Rarity agreed. "That would... probably be best. I'm almost surprised the floorboards can handle it themselves." She took another look at the meager list and sighed. "So... Royal Dynamics Land Systems... I know the Royal Dynamics company a little bit, but this particular branch doesn't seem to be ringing any bells."
"What's 'Royal Dynamics?'" Sweetie Belle asked after reading Rarity's list.
Rarity hummed. "They used to mostly make industrial machines and appliances and things such as. The building's furnace was actually made by their consumer goods branch, and you can still find their products all over the place."
Tilting its head, Circuit asked, "Still?"
"They went bankrupt about twenty years ago. To be honest, I was too young to really remember any of it, but some of the older folks around town used to work in their old factory. Supposedly there was a huge court case against them, and the throne wound up seizing all of their assets."
"What, was, the, nature, of, the, case?"
She shrugged. "Nopony knows, not even the old workers. There's a few different rumors, but for some reason none of the court documents were ever released to the public. It's not even confirmed that the case was against them at all."
"What's that mean?" Sweetie Belle asked, clearly having trouble following the conversation.
"It means that whatever they did is being kept secret, which is something that almost never happens," she explained.
"Oh... They must have done something really bad then."
As she said that, the sisters turned to face Circuit with looks of growing dread.
"Circuit..." Rarity said hesitantly, "Do you know how long ago you were built?"
Recalling the lines of script that formed Circuit's first memory it said, "Last, power, cycle, recorded, twenty, years, two, hours, thirty, one, minutes, ago."
Rarity's magical hold on her teacup faltered for a brief moment as her eyes shot wide in shock. "Um... I think I need to go run by the library... and do some research."
She gently placed the teacup on the table and then frantically bolted to the door with her notepad in tow without another word. Circuit and Sweetie Belle watched the boutique's door slam behind her, then turned and looked at each other in mutual confusion. There was then an audible smack as Sweetie Belle facehooved.
"Guess I'd better close up shop..."
"Does, this, sort, of, event, happen, frequently?"
"Just about every Friday, yeah."
"How, uncanny."
Twilight happily unwrapped a package that had been delivered earlier in the morning. Within was her shipment of new books to add to the library's shelves: a collection older books that she'd special ordered, a few that were out of print and somewhat rare, as well as a number of new ones sent by publishers the library had partnered with. She picked up and read the cover of one of the newly published books.
"Hmm... 'Blinded Justice: Details, Discussions, and Theories of Equestria's Hidden Court Cases,'" she read. Intrigued, she opened it and read the first paragraph of the introductory chapter.
In over one thousand years since the formation if Her Majesty's Royal Court, virtually all cases and hearings held have been available on the public record. Transcripts, evidence, and rulings alike are immortalized in the Royal Archives for all to see, with some of the oldest records dating back to the imprisonment of Discord himself. On rare occasion, however, some cases have been hidden from the public eye with no available knowledge as to their rulings, evidence, claims, even the identity of the defendants themselves. All we are left with is the knowledge that sometimes the doors of the courts are closed and locked for a period of time, and, more often than not, major changes that affect the whole of Equestria ensue.
"Interesting. I wonder if there's anything about Nightmare Moon in here? One would think there was some kind of trial," she surmised as she placed the book back in the box, making a mental note to pick it up later. She was just about to reach for the next when a frantic knocking came from the front door.
"I got it, Twi!" she heard Spike call out as he opened the door. "Oh! Uh, hi, Rarity, what's going on?"
Twilight's ear perked as she heard Rarity's winded voice. "Oh, hello Spike. Is Twilight busy? I need to ask her something important."
"Yeah, she's over at the tables. You... okay? Looks like you ran the whole way here."
His voice grew louder as Spike led Rarity to where Twilight was inventorying the books. When they were in view, Twilight saw what Spike apparently did. Rarity's mane was disheveled and hanging limply, sweat dripped from her face, and she was audibly struggling to catch her breath as her breath came in deep heaves. A large notepad was curiously held in her magic grasp alongside her.
"Well, you certainly aren't wrong," Rarity gasped as she wiped her brow and attempted to compose herself. "But yes, I'm fine, though I am starting to regret not taking Rainbow up on her offer to be my personal trainer." With one overly dramatic deep breath, she gave Twilight a smile. "Oh, good afternoon Twilight, I hope I'm not interrupting something important."
Twilight chuckled and pushed the package to the side of the table. "Oh, it's fine, really. Just got a new shipment of books and was taking inventory." She pulled out the stool next to her and invited her to take a seat. "So what's up? Something happen?"
Taking her spot next to Twilight, Rarity said, "Well, it is Friday."
"Oh no..."
"But other than everypony hiding in their homes, it would seem to be relatively tame compared to the nonsense that normally goes on around here."
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Twilight groaned, "So on a scale of one to Discord, what kind of damage are we looking at?"
Rarity guffawed and said, "Probably a Zecora."
"Phew, okay, so as long the Crusader's don't get any wild ideas we should be fine."
The fashionista's eyes shot wide open as if she suddenly remembered something. Then she shook her head, mumbling to herself, "No, no, she'll be fine..."
"Rarity...?" Twilight was suddenly very concerned.
Tapping her hoof on the table, Rarity thought about where to start. Eventually she asked, "Have you ever heard about Royal Dynamics?"
Twilight blinked in confusion. That was... a remarkably un-Rarity-ish topic for her to bring up. "The old appliance company? A little bit I guess, but admittedly it's not something I've ever read much into." Then, against her better judgement, she asked, "Why?"
"Mmm... I was hoping you might have had something about them, specifically about why they went bankrupt."
"I don't exactly have business records in here, Rarity. Besides, you aren't really going to hear much about them other than conspiracy... theories..." Twilight trailed off as she looked at the package on the table. "Actually, I might something."
She pulled the box back towards her and pulled out the "Blinded Justice" book. What were the odds that the book might have the right information in it? Twilight cracked it open and flipped to a random chapter.
Though this collection consists of Equestrian court cases exclusively, it should be noted that global politics can, on rare occasions, result in Her Majesty's Court taking cases that revolve around international events and the peoples involved in them. Everything from terrorists and saboteurs to asylum seekers mean that Equestria may find such foreigners in our justice system. It is exceptionally rare for such cases to be sealed from the public eye, as multiple nations will have their attention drawn to them and deliberate obfuscation would very likely result in international incidents. However, in this chapter we will be discussing one of the rare instances of this exact phenomenon occurring as it pertains to the Griffin Civil War and the concurrent sealed court case of 678.
678? Twilight thought. That's over three hundred years ago! How often does this happen?
"When did they go under, again? About twenty years ago?"
"I believe so, yes."
"Hm... let's see." Twilight flipped to the last chapter, hoping it was written in chronological order. Sure enough, the second to last chapter was dated about then. "Here we go, it looks like there was a sealed court case in 982. That looks right. Aaand... Yes! The first thing it mentions is that it coincided with the bankruptcy and seizure of Royal Dynamics. Oh, wow, were they really the third largest company in the world?"
"Focus, darling."
"Right, sorry. So, details about them going bankrupt, right?"
"Yes, but see if you can find anything about their 'Land Systems' branch."
"'Land Systems?' I've... never heard of that, but sure let's see." Twilight scanned through the chapter, skipping over admittedly intriguing details about the fallen monolith of a company. "Let's see, first founded in 952, multiple subsidiaries including Consumer Products, Industrial Solutions, and... Railhead Transport? Didn't know they made trains... And... Oh! Here we go, 'Land Systems.'"
Rarity perked up. "Well? Don't keep me in suspense, darling."
Twilight furrowed her brow, disappointed at the evident dearth of information available. "It... says that nopony could ever figure out what they made. While all the other branch companies were incredibly profitable, they were all meticulous in their record keeping when it came to revenue and shipments. Land Systems apparently never made anything, and were only established in 980."
"So they were only around for two years? Do you think they were why they went bankrupt?"
"Its possible, but what could they have possibly done in two years that could result in the world's third largest company going under?"
Pursing her lips, Rarity hesitantly said, "I... might have figured out what they made, darling."
"Does it have anything to do with what's going on outside right now?"
"Unfortunately."
"... And you left it alone with Sweetie Belle?"
"I'm... sure she's fine," Rarity attempted to force a smile, but only succeeded in making a pained grimace. "Oh, who am I kidding, Twilight, we need to go!"
"Okay, just let me- HEY!" she was unceremoniously yanked by her hoof and dragged after Rarity, the book flying out of her grip onto the table. "I guess this is my life now. Spike! Watch the library!"
Spike, who by now had slinked off to a bean bag chair to read a comic book while the mares talked, glanced up momentarily to see the minor chaos unfolding. With a roll of his eyes he licked a claw and turned a page as the library door slammed shut, eyes glazed.
"If I die, I die," he muttered to himself dismissively. He really should ask Twilight for an advance on his allowance.
As the two mares arrived at the door of Carousel Boutique, Rarity slammed the door open in a panic as she feared the worst. The reality of what she saw in front of her was almost more absurd than anything she had seen today as Circuit and Sweetie Belle were casually sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table where she'd left them. They'd evidently chosen to occupy themselves with a simple chess game while Rarity had gone to fetch Twilight.
Amusingly, Circuit was losing quite badly.
"Checkmate," Sweetie Belle said as she moved a rook.
Circuit stared at the chess board for a moment, then said in its usual halting monotone, "Best, three, out, of, five."
Sweetie Belle giggled as she reset the pieces. "Just be glad you're not playing against Big Mac. You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but he's won at least three tournaments in a row now."
Rarity looked between them, eyes darting back and forth.
"Well, it could be worse," she finally said in relief.
Her words seemed to have gotten Circuit's attention as it swung its armored head around to face her. "Hello, Rarity. Did, you, acquire, any, information?"
It could have just been her imagination, but Rarity could have sworn Circuit was starting to sound more... normal, if not in its speech patterns, but its word choice. Perhaps it was gradually learning how ponies talked regularly? At least Sweetie Belle was something resembling a good example. Rarity shuddered at the thought of Rainbow Dash or Applejack "teaching" the machine how to talk.
"Not as much as I'd like, but I have somepony here I'd like you to meet." She stepped inside in ushered a winded Twilight inside. "Circuit, this is Twilight Sparkle. She is our resident librarian and protege of Princess Celestia."
Twilight flopped on the floor, gasping for breath. "Let me know when you go to the gym with Rainbow, I'm coming too."
"If you insist, darling. Anyway, this is Circuit. He's what's caused all this commotion today."
From the floor, Twilight craned her neck as the enormous armored stallion stood up and approached her. It held out a polite hoof.
"Do, you, require, assistance, Twilight, Sparkle?"
She looked from the glossy black visor down to Circuit's armored hoof, realizing that it was easily the size of her head. Twilight took it hesitantly as she was helped up, noting that it didn't so much as budge when she put her weight on it.
"Um, yes, thank you Mister Circuit. Where exactly did you say he came from, Rarity?"
Rarity chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought about the best way to put it, then shrugged in resignation.
"As best I can tell, Circuit is a machine made by this 'Land Systems' branch, and he says he was built almost exactly twenty years ago so..." she trailed off, letting Twilight fill in the blanks.
Twilight stared into Circuit's visor wide-eyed as she processed what she'd seen and heard. Rarity had called it a machine and while it certainly looked the part, it spoke and acted as if it were a truly sapient being, minus the odd cadence to its speech. Suddenly it clicked. She was looking at the physical manifestation of billions - tens, even - of bits in research and development, so much so that the price tag made an entire corporation collapse under its weight in under two years.
Circuit tilted its head, waiting for some kind of response.
With all that time and money poured into one machine, Twilight was very likely looking at one of the most - if not the most - advanced pieces of technology Equestria had ever seen.
And it couldn't even beat a filly at chess.
Author's Note
Well, better late than never. At least I wasn't gone for 10 years this time.
