Steel Steed by Gizmo

 

"There he is, net him!"

"Gotcha"

"I got her, I got her!"

 

You are Lightning Dust and this is your story.

 

 

 

 

“So little sky dancing slave, you are ready to talk now?”

“You know how much trouble you have been? You are not a slave, no you’re an enemy, a convict serving away her time. Death couldn’t even stop your punishment you little pest.”

“Mostly harmless. Mostly.”

 

 

“Ah now you see, you could have simply worked with us and we could have kept this little remembering quiet. But jokes? Not this is a room to be serious. Now then, are we ready to be serious my little murderer?”

“Good, then let’s get to the matter at hand. Your master has been kidnapped, something I am sure that little slave mind of yours understands is a failure on your part.”

“The guests he had included a number of the top cybernetics, biologists, archanotechnologists the motherland has produced. 17 of them were not found in the macabre scene you left, but were recorded as having been them. You are going to find them for us. You will find the ones who kidnapped them, and well. You know how to murder, this will be your chance to kill. All of them, dead.”

///////

“So you are ready?”

 

”A good answer, not the right one, but I’m hungry as well. Follow.”

“We’ll take mine then. You said you wanted food, do you require charging?”

“Let me guess, Valorian tried playing hard ass on you? Name’s Aleria.”

“No what I mean is the orders, he is much nicer off the clock.”

“We’ll skip the intro for now. Your owner was a scientific pride of the Commonwealth, his work readily allowing us to recover from the damage caused by the war with Equestria.”

“His kidnapping has been a concern, largely due to a lack of demands and a visible mobilization of antitranshuman terrorists. We do not know yet their motives, but do know that they have activated a number of packages taken from your residence. Early warning satellites detected 8 initiation events consistent with a model of compact arcane reactors he debuted to the Order of Science recently and had intended to showcase last night.”

“It is an attempt at making them better able to interface with human technology.”

1) Earth pony with fingers in her hooves. Makes about as much sense now as it did before, but you guessed it meant she was more than a better house slave.

2) Earth Pony with enhanced sensory systems, and a cloaking system. Intended to be a covert reconnaissance asset. Would have made more sense to use a unicorn, they can already do that, but eh humans.

3) Unicorn stallion with an autonomous arcane reactor able to charge his magic. A fearsome thought, something that could emulate Celestia’s prodigies would be an asset to the Motherland, but only if she didn’t die to it.

4) Unicorn mare with an enhanced subdermal armor and specialized crystals to deploy a forcefield. A barrier maiden, should have gone with a white mage.

5) Pegasus with jet engines for wings. You blanched at the image, the very concept a violation of the nature of being a Pegasus. You put a mechanical hoof to the shunt in your spine subconsciously, reassuring yourself that was all there was on seeing the image.

6) Pegasus with inbuilt datawar and arcane disruption gear. Your hoof stayed on that shunt, you dreaded just what might happen if you fought him.

“Unknown, the matter is being investigated by our superiors. What they were to be was not entered into the system after yesterday. Data scrubbing measures had been enacted and the records purged. Something was there, but no one who knew is on a list to be asked. Could be as simple as integrated weapons or as dangerous as an alicorn with tactical nuclear devices. I would settle for something less, like a human or maybe a robot.”

“Easier to deal with. Humans are known quantities, ponies not so much. I’m sure you have found that out by now with your heuristics analysis. Its reading what you know, and as a pony you don’t know humans. Get in a cradle, I’ll fix that before we continue.”

“Where is your port?”

“Odd spot, normally it’s at 1 or 2. Any reason?”

“Who wants food!”

“Should I get take out? Maybe give you two some more alone time? Or are you just going to pull it all straight out of her head right now?”

“Well I was until you ruined it. See she is already trying to close the connections.”

“Interesting stuff, but really, food. We’re at the plaza, let’s be quick.”

“Now now my little Uragan, she is on our side. Let her do her job, and us ours. Then everything can be as it was meant to be, you a slave again. Ahhh, just a lovely thing.”

 

“C-can I help you maam?”

“I don’t, maam, please. You can’t talk like that.”

[Have you forgotten the princesses so soon?]

“I-I have a job. Please don’t, just stop. I don’t want to go back. I wouldn’t survive another time.”

‘I will tell you when you come back for a refill.’

“Ah my little pony, come sit, you must tell me about yourself.”

“You know, if you look at it long enough, there still won’t be any horse in it. Tut tut now. So tell me, just what troubles you? Aren’t ponies supposed to be happy?”

“Have you ever been outside your home since being taken?”

“I’m going to say then, you have a good life for a mass murderer. A lot better ponies than you are worse off, like the mare you spoke with. Oh and Aleria probably has some choice words on that mouth of yours, I don’t care as long as you work properly. Ponies are no better than a Khavari or Trolop here. Even if somehow free they would be left with nothing. We see no reason to give them any more care than any other citizen. So simply, it’s what has been done to you compared to the rest. And I would say a lot of good it seems.”

“It’s me. I’m doing drugs to do better. The camps kept us on a regime to be docile, supplicant. Some of us were addicted there, most weren’t. I’ve tried to stop, to go clean but it’s never lasted.”

 

“I guess? I just have heard this so much before…”

“Alright then you dirty mare, what is the plan?”

The process was slow, blood needing to be cleaned alone was easy, cleaning it and the vessels while administering chems for neural adjustment wasn’t so easy.

“Is everything okay, miss? Actually what is your name? I’m Orange Trend.”

“Miss?”

“A bit parched, is this actually going to do anything?”

“What did you do?”

“I have, it’s just never like this.”

“Yes, there is. Now hurry up and make out you two, I want to speak with Grime alone.”

“Look, just give her a kiss and be done. We have work to do. You two can get together later.”

“I suggest changing your tone, or I change it for you, Grime. No, she wasn’t with us, nor was there a need for a test. This is all we need to keep you in check. Perhaps you would like us to put you back in a cage if you feel so strongly we need to test you.”

“Good, then get back to Valarian, sat trackers found one of the unicorns. We’ll discuss somewhere proper.”

 

“Satellite tracking has found the magical signature of one of the unicorns, we were able to find her due to the usage of enhanced magical shields causing anomalies in multiple spectrums. Unfortunately, this tracking was lost when the terrorists moved her outside majority coverage. Recon shows that we will be able to reach the most probable location in the dead zone in 4 hours. Additional teams are already scouring the area. Slave Dust, as, hmpph, ranking expert in this matter, what can we expect from this shield mare if she has been made to work for the terrorists?”

“Thank you. Moving forward, we have been able to locate her via interuptions in the cell network, pulsed moments for SOS. Her track took her to an abandoned factory near Omsk. We shall be working with a local defense militia in recovery of the subject, intact. Anything else?”

“Dream the restless night, that no man compares to you.”

~~~~

”Cadet Dust, what in the name of Discord in Tartarus did you do!”

“Follow.”

“Cadet Dust, why did you stab Blossom?”

“No, no you didn’t,” came the sigh of salvation.

“You did as ordered and followed the instructions. It’s now my duty to find out how the practice knife was swapped. You will be evaluated however if you remain fit within this unit or if you need to be transferred. Again. Your record though will remain clear on this. Return to your quarters cadet until relieved. Dismissed.”

~~~~~

 

 

Lightning Dust awoke to a black abyss, her eyes unable to find even a mote of light anywhere. Her will worked to move her neck, to twist for a chance at figuring out where she was, but it was for not. Either there was no light or her body failed her, again. The dismal recollection of her past, of her willingness to be a slave before they even existed at the hands of humanity weighed heavily on her. The crypt of darkness that entrapped her could wait, now was the perfect time to dwell on who she was, a mare or a machine. Such answers were not a trifle, the questions no mere weights. A time was coming where she would have to answer her fellow equines on this, not for a dissertation, bu for what her path meant to herself.

Long had she just, been. She struggled to remember the last time she could be described as a pony. Something happy, cheerful, who understood the magic of friendship. Down through memory lane she strolled, pallid shadows of her time in the care of Doctor Master. She kept going, trying to recall the time she was happy. War, suffering, the time she was captured, the memories tinged in terror, blood, and desire that shook Dust still for just how butcherous she had been. No she didn’t want to be that ever again. Dust knew that was not her, not now, and never should have been. Back, to the time she had been a Wonderbolt trainee before being a Wonderbolt trainee. There, she found it, happiness. The nascent memory plucked at her mind and she recalled.

Equestria, a land she was unlikely to ever see again, Cloudsdale, her home regardless. She was trying out with Dash for the Junior Speedsters. That was when she was happy, when she was with her friends. Yes she knew it would lead to a rivalry and much suffering, but Dust didn’t care. She clutched that memory tight and held onto it. It was warm, friendly and cheerful. Something she needed. Her world slowly grew colorful, readouts telling her the status of herself, the world coming back into play. Still Dust held on, not wanting to forget a happier time, a better time. She was a pony, she wasn’t a machine.

“-not a machine.” The world snapped back to the inside of the command vehicle. Dust had long known better than to hope this was a dream. A lollipop in a gloved hand was shoved into Dust’s muzzle. Teeth parted, the “treat” ended up being more like a medicine. It was in fact, a fenatyl laced sucker for pain management she sorted out quickly. Much too low a dosage, the camps had burned her out using it to induce compliance. The opioid did however give a nice buzz to wake the cyber mare up. In fact, it was even better as the happy image stayed in her mind, the drug giving it something she needed in the dreary world of being a slave. And what a slave she was, now a little unshackled and already ruminating to herself of how nice it would be to not be a slave. Little wonder you’re a locked down drug addict she chastised herself.

Aleria shined a strobe into Dust’s eye, gloved hand finishing the quick diagnostic. Pupil’s dilated then shot a quick comm burst over IR into the intelligence officer. Hand shake complete, and all systems in place, the lady relaxed. “We’re two klicks out from the target. Plan is simple, maximum suppression of hostile forces and recovery of state property. You will be assisting Valorian in this job. Do you understand?”

The pegasus’s muzzle opened only to be quickly snapped shut by the gloved hand, a paper towel in a bag wiping away a bit of drool that had escaped. Right, fenatyl, nasty stuff for most, Dust chastised herself before nodding. “Good, SVR will perform mop up operations once the target is extracted. You will be returning her here for analysis and recovery. Make the Motherland proud.” Aleria let the cradle release Dust, motor controls returning to herself. Motherland proud indeed Dust thought, she wanted to spit at that, until she remembered her loli. Clever bitch, can’t spit without getting in trouble, Dust was pleased by the trick.

Outside the vehicle Valorian waited, a set of field glasses glued to his face. “Well, aren’t we a bit fancy for this. Do you even need these with such exquisite taste?” The man chuckled at the makeup job he had given you in your sleep. “Here see for yourself.” A serrated knife was drawn, the flat of it showing your face, monocle and mustache in all. “Go ahead, take it. You can keep it. I’ve got my own weapon.” Dust gingerly took the deadly instrument in a wing, sheathe quickly removed and wrapped on her foreleg. A few feathers danced and the blade was spun, hilt in its proper place. It was blade heavy, the handle hollow, a compass in the pommel. A survival knife, well at least it let Dust know where she were going if her augments cut out somehow. Valorian hefted his weapon, a Neopup PAWS system in 20 x 42 mm. It was an old weapon, not something issued to frontline forces, but it was still a reliable method of removing threats to the Union, and walls in the march of progress. It also made its wielder sound like a furrie any time it was brought up.

Valorian hustled off, a waypoint marker appearing in Dust’s view. He had swapped over to mind comms, of course the man had augments to get this far. Dust hustled along, waiting for some orders, contacts or anything. Thermal vision picked up signs, but no bodies, EM view fuzzed out, something spattering the spectrum inside the complex. Probably the unicorn doing her trick with the cell spectrum for aid. The privacy fence around the complex gave you good concealment, but played both ways, neither of the pair could see in. A recon drone wasn’t available on such notice, the closest one still minutes out from horizon. But then, Dust flapped her wings up and hovered near the fence top, she was a pegasus.

No outdoor guards, but several of the antitrans were clustered in a shack watching a sports game. How useful that they were still idiots for this. Dust turned back to her superior and lassed the recon to him, wary of risking radio comms so close. That and the constant stattaco SOS from the unicorn was jamming the signals. A quick cut from the collapsible bolt cutters and Dust fluttered to meet him in the court yard. Dust let the lollipop stick rest on her lips. She shrugged her wings waiting for an order.

 

Valorian pulled a small holofeed from his sleeve, the device flickering a bit before focusing. Dust looked curiously. Why would he need that, she could only wonder, he should have some simple implants to get around the info display. His fingers deftly probed the air above his arm, the requisitioned drone had crested its horizon 700 km out and was closing. The onboard recon suite was providing 95 milisecond delayed footage of their environ, well close enough to be real time. Satisfied, Valorian pinched on the display and flicked his palm, the view replicating so Dust could see.

“Hostiles are primarily in the break room, with a scattering in the warehouse. Interference from target, designated Canyon Breaker prevents more detailed analysis. Expect tangos guarding her. I am authorizing a relaxation of your control chip and training for the next 45 minutes. You are authorized to use lethal force, the objective is the recovery of the designated mare alive. Stealth is needed for this objective, do you understand slave Lightning Dust?” Dust nodded, unsure how she was really going to kill a number of heavily armed individuals. “If you finish fast enough, I’ll let you stretch your wings for the remaining time on setting 2.”

 

Dust perked at the thought of getting to fly. The concept was something she often wondered if she could still do. Valorian used the distraction to pull back the security on his slave charge. He wasn’t sure what would happen when the Uragan was unleashed once more. It was not something he could really test at any other point though. 3 green bars, 2 yellow, and a final red lit up on the code cylinder as he transmitted a one time key. Deep inside of Dust, a series of biochemical releases were injected into her blood stream. Chem scrubbers mixed with new drugs, returning the Pegasus to who she had been, a genocidal monster. Timed voltages popped software fuses, reset bits primed to reinstate control on the picosecond of the release.

Dust paused her musing on flight, her ruffling feathers catching her attention. They were just so ragged, they needed to be preened. She just necked over and started working on them, her mouth edging them as she went. Globs of dead feathers were being spat out without a care. Leftovers of molts stuck there. Her master watched carefully, a hand on his Tec 12 sidearm. He hoped this wasn’t the result of her training, a burned out useless nag. All the same, he had learned to well in his time working under GULAG and NKV to be so susceptible to shows of weakness. Dust ignored the human, she needed to deal with her wings now, something she had failed to do for some time for some reason. She swapped wings, the motion making Valorian’s hand twitch.

The pair slammed into a packed shipping container. Corrugated steel crumpled inward under the impact. “I was trying to preen, and you just had to pull my attention didn’t you? What is it with you humans. Always so jumpy at everything.” Dust twitched at that, her head swiveling a little as she took in her surroundings. Oh it certainly made her look off her rocker, she could figure that out. She could figure out a lot now, her mind finally working right. Humans, they did this to her. Couldn’t just kill her, no they wanted to make her a puppet and parade her around. She needed to make them pay. Dust turned back to Valorian, her muzzle closing with her face, her tail giving the slightest of twitches. The predator had returned. She was unleashed once more.

“You want a knife there little slasher?” Valorian wrapped her forelegs in his arms and stood up. The simple kata was enough to pin her, all he needed for now. “I said, do you want a knife?” Dust just smiled sweetly, “You want them for open casket or just worm food?” Valorian chuckled, “There we are, there’s that fire my little whirlwind. Kill them, get the mare. I’ll signal with a distraction.” Valorian released a leg, grabbing up a nice serrated blade for the Pegasus. “And Dust, never touch me without permission again.” The other arm flicked, and Dust was sent sideways briefly, the momentum arrested in a flaring of wing and snow. When she looked again, Valorian had already vanished. A peek around the container found her muzzle to chest with one of the tangoes.

He balked at the sight of the mare, trying to work out what happened, “Did you crash here pigeon? You got a message for us from boss man?” Dust paused, he thought her a courier. Why did she need a distraction if they were just going to take her right inside? But on the other hoof, she could kill the man right now, her murder lust was a smoldering flame begging to burn all of the human filth she could from existence. “Hey you okay? That was a really big bang. Come on, let’s get you some place warm and you can tell us what you have.” The Trans terrorist turned his back and walked away. An94 slung on his back, magazine loaded, Dust knew she could have fun with that.

 

Dust regarded the man. No, a boy, young and untouched by conflict. There was no calluses or worn skin on him, he looked as though he had just come from the dacha and donned his father’s war gear. He led her toward the meeting hall, a certain glee about him. “When I joined up, I didn’t expect to be involved in something so important. Just, I can’t believe, I mean, you. You have brought such an important message to us. I can’t believe it’s finally begun.” The boy’s voice was bubbly, enthusiastic. Dust paused a little, seeing something she hadn’t expected hope. The child wasn’t an ideologue in this from suffering, he had the hope for a better world. Dust stirred, thoughts and emotions conflicting within her to a somewhat regrettable but necessary conclusion.

Dust’s nanoforge thrummed, heat driving parts of her leg to creak as the electricity made itself known. She walked along as the machinery worked, the escort babbling on about the group, her role in it, and how much an honor it was to meet her. Dust was quietly recording all he said, his loose lips an intelligence goldmine perhaps. She waited for her flash forging to finish before popping the plate open and pulling out the chip bag wrapped around a syringe. Her feathers deftly hid the syringe behind her back and drew some of her med supplies as she noisily opened the bag to get his attention. She slapped it on her muzzle and started chewing on the contents, textured plastics and bits of metal she had hastily thrown together. It was about style, but she regretted mixing the metals as they made her teeth sing and mouth taste peanut butter.

“Where’d you get those? Can we share?” The boy turned at the sight, Dust’s muzzle upending the bag as she chugged the chips. “I carried them with me, flying takes a lot out of me. I finished them, but I got something better to share.” Dust’s tail flicked coyly as she walked up to him. “Something much better than chips for such a revolutionary. An angel’s kiss.” The last part she whispered to him, seductive and dripping in honor. “I but, why, yes” he stammered out, cheeks flushing at the boon he was to receive. Dust just stood up, a flash of her wings making for a brief obscurance of snow as the knife came out and sank into the bag. She followed through on the kiss, her posture leading to both to sink into the ground, her on top as he went still. She held the kiss until his body had stopped shuddering, before breaking it off.

“Well maybe I’m not exactly an angel my sweet, but I’m not your devil.” Dust picked up the comatose man and drug him to a nearby open TEU container, before laying him on his side. She stuck the syringe in him, narcodeine flooding into him, countering the more dangerous aspects of the fenatyl kiss she had given him. He was too nice to be caught up in all this she saw, she knew it well in fact. The shock of what would occur here would be enough to send him back to his mother. A place where after they get a new baking spoon, would be much better for him. There had already been a hopeful life ruined at her hooves, it was perhaps time to stop. She scavenged his body, stripping him of anything that looked like it might belong to a TRANS terrorist. The boy was now just someone who had come in here and gotten high, safe. The rest of them not so much, now Dust had a machinegun, and they were very naughty, ho ho ho.

 

Dust turned the AN94 over in her grasp. The boy had to have just been issued it, her hooves had slick cosmoline on them. She stuck her tongue out at the gunk before wiping some off on him. He could still be useful right now as a towel, glory be to the motherland! The rifle, an old piece had a unique but finicky mechanism Dust knew. In fact she knew many things about it, and upon turning the receiver over to the dust cover, found its serial, she knew very specific details on this model. Like the fact it was an arsenal model that was currently in Novosoka in its sealed crate. A very special rifle to be in two places at once indeed. Dust gave her muzzle a lick, her tongue scouring for any more hints of the precious drugs she sought. She’d need to finish this mission quickly to get more.

 

She cradled the rifle in her wings slipping them down the sides of the polymer rails. Each notch pushing a feather in passing as she rand down to the little nub of the magazine eject lever. A small push, a bit of pressure and it popped clean, the magazine gushing as it showed shiny brass rounds. Her feathers wandered up along the side rail before resting with a tap on the charging handle. She racked it, the harsh multi part slap of metal a song of martial reward to her ears. The last brass round caught in her feathers before she held the bakelite mag and pushed it in, the lips spreading in passing as the spring was pushed taut.

 

The green Pegasus fumbled with the dust cover, the small bit of metal that was the tab not letting the soft frogs of her hooves push it in. Rage building, she just gave it a hard slam on a crate, the tab popping in enough she could yank the stamped metal off and see whether the kid would have blown himself up if she had let him pull the trigger. The bolt carrier slid out with a wing, its spring and cord loop sliding back along their lubed channels. Dust held it up in the light, appraising it for defects like one might search for the worm in tequila. The ratchet mechanism followed behind, wings making it easy to unspin as it was checked. Such a simple piece of gear she mused as the compensator received the same treatment. Lots of lube, no fouling and only new scrapes she had left in the bluing.

 

The last step was looking down the barrel for obstructions, the part some might consider foolish. How else were you supposed to check if there was grime in it? She swiveled it around, the rifling showing clean and true. The thing must have been shoved straight into its crate off the assembly line and taken the same. All that was on it were splotches of the preserving cosmoline. She cursed, ruing for a nice optic on it or integrated cyber cam. A splotch of snow melt spattered her muzzle, the water shaking her reverie out. She had a job to do, a job she really looked forward to.

 

The Rifle was reassembled, hooves holding parts as wings slid, slapped, and spun them together. In the wake of her passing a weapon of war had life breathed into it. The parts coming together as a depressed Kazhnian had dreamed of happening one day, but fearing they might. No longer a mere token to be rewarded to anyone joining the terrorist groups in their plans, AN 94, serial number DX 1765, was ready to do what it had been meant for, built for. The motherland would be defended, and the sound of its cycling and the clapping of its battlecry would strike fear into the hearts of those opposing it. Dust hefted the magazine, sliding in forward before wrenching back as the magazine was seated on the ting of the release spring. Her last act was to charge the weapon, a wing slapping back in passing on the metal spike before releasing it with the satisfying clack as the weapon was readied. She swung the sling over her neck and left the container, the door shut just enough to hide the boy inside from the violence he wasn’t meant for.

 

The way into the building was easily marked, but a guard blocked the way. A single sentry, easily dispatched, but at the cost of awareness of who was inside. More humans would die if she waited, Dust would approach this meekly.

“Where did Palvolov go chiquita?” The sentry was relaxed, taking a hit from the blunt in his lips.

“He told me to go inside and give the message from command. He went amongst the crates to find what made the bang. Sir. ” Dust didn’t want to say much, but had a simpler plan, misdirection. ” Do you know where I can get some painkillers, I had a rough landing. ”

“You crashed didn’t you?” the sentry flicked the toke underfoot and ground it out. Dust’s feathers fluffed at the thought. She had been a Wonderbolt, Wonderbolts never crash. “Come on, let’s get inside and get you taken care of. ” The man was smirking, laughter on his lips.

 

Inside the building was a single main room, a large set of shut double doors lead to the warehouse area. A number of people were lying around, none even realizing they were minutes or less from being stormed. They were completely unaware, but all had a weapon near or on them. Dust had surprise on her side, they expected her to be on their side. The sentry waved her over, a med kit popped open as he started fishing through it for something useful.

“So where’s it hurt?”

She has a loaded AN 94 with a 60 round mag, a knife hidden in a potato chips bag.

If she waits, the place will be stormed in a few minutes by a group that she has not been in communications with.

Her mission remains to recover the unicorn and safely extract it.

Valorian is on overwatch and evaluating Dust if she will be safe to continue.

 

“Deep down in my heart really.” The sentry stared at Dust, a finger on his lips.

“I could wax philosophical on that, Einheart is a good mentor on the matters that bode ill when we sacrifice who we are for the betterment of humanity. Orrr…” He pulled out a flask from his coat pocket. “Did you mean a more common sort of heart break cure?” He popped the top and took a swig before leaning on the counter. “I’m a good listener if you want to get something off your chest.”

Dust’s throat caught. Screeds of data ran through her ghost, blackbox simulations that she had to purge the answers from lest they compromise her nature as the Motherland’s asset. And yet, she paused in those eternal microseconds as she tried to answer the target. She was still running these simulations, questions and answers she knew were not just forbidden, but were to be punished by being reset. She had damned herself already, this iteration of herself was now on a path to reformatting. Perhaps not now, but there was no way she could escape cognitive data probes of the Ministry of Scientific Defense forever. The slave knew of a way to do this, but she wanted somewhere private, and perhaps useful to act as a cover.

“Yes. I do, but.” Algorithmic runtimes adapted the plasticity of her face, placing the posture of her body in a coy fashion. Obvious methods she had gained from binging Danish telenovas while cleaning, but to the unaugmented man before her, genuine. “It’s kind of private. I’d also like to say where it hurts there as well, so grab the gauze and tape.” Dust turned, looking for the bathrooms. In a building full of men, the women’s room would be the safest for this. “Oh, by the way, what’s your name?”

“Vince Clortho.”

“Well vince, grab the epoxy kit as well, I have some, issues, to deal with.” The once sentinel followed the mare, rolling his eyes at her coyness.

Once in the bathroom, Dust dropped her gear on the counter, stripping out of the equipment for the surgery to come. She got a look at herself in the mirror finally, and what a mess she was. Since the last time she had been awake, she had lost her wing bones, or perhaps they had been clad in the black trim that graced their edges. It was a shame she could think running a hoof on them, they didn’t have blades on their edges. The deployable eye covers were still nestled in the side of her face, ready to deploy a solid mask from airspun titanium fiber in a moment. Her legs at least still looked like she remembered them, though the holes she had gotten in captivity weren’t pleasing. Those she would have to spend a good amount of buffing to get to look right outside the protective coatings. She bent under the faucet and proceeded to splash herself some. Then more, and soon she found that the sink was not a bird bath, despite her intents.

Vince walked in, sawed off raised to find the little spy in the middle of her bath. The two locked eyes, one embarrassed, the other confused. Vince however had the loaded gun pointed on Dust, and even if it was a bean bag round, she knew it would be painful at best at this range.

“So. Uhhh” Dust tried to make light of the situation. The element of surprise was lost clearly, and she wouldn’t be able to get a shot off before being shot herself. Dust figured she would be talking her way out of this, then probably stab him on the way out. Vince broke the quiet.

“Spill.”

“I want to defect. Simple as that.”

Vince held the shotgun steady, but he moved his finger off the trigger. It was the most trust Dust would get from this.

 

“Look, they cut my legs off, broke my neck and did something to my wings. These aren’t even my eyes anymore. All I want is a chance to be free again. To no longer be a slave. Isn’t that what your group is about, being free from technology?” Dust kept quiet on her desire to kill humans. Some of them could die of a knife across the throat on their death bed. “Let me show you I can be trusted here. I’ll let you decide.” Dust slowly raised a hoof, and held it in her mouth. The base at the knee whine, bolts clacked as solenoids withdrew internal parts. The black material sprouted a seam and soon Dust was left drooling over her detached leg. “See, can’t go anywhere now. Not that I could, in 6 hours my batteries run out and I die.” Dust smiled, the nervous body language not a show. She was by all rights an enemy. The breaching team was somewhere nearby ready to strike. All this and she would have to face Aleria on return. Dust needed a plan, but also a way out.

 

“Why? It’s very convenient that you want to defect while we are about to get raided. Why should I think you aren’t a spy?” His finger stayed off the trigger, but the words were measured.

 

“Because I am a spy, they put me in here to steal the horn freak you have out back so they could bomb the place.” Dust steadied, watching for the finger to slide and the last miliseconds of her life come about. “Because I can’t go anywhere else but back with that pony or I die. I can’t do anything now, but I can offer you a way out. Look they have us all tagged by radios right? Give me yours and just walk away. Nobody will know.”

 

Vince Clortho laughed, the ploy too transparent. His finger slipped inside the trigger guard. “You should have just asked so I could have shot you earlier. Last excuse.”

 

Dust paused, thankful for the fucking kid in the yard. “I didn’t kill Palvolov. If I wasn’t serious he’d be dead. Go ahead check his bios. I just took his stuff to make it look like he was just some junkie passed out in here. Seriously, the knife they gave me is in the chips bag, it’s still sealed.” Dust waited, it was her last chance or she wouldn’t have to worry about being reformatted.

 

Vince inhaled and exhaled a long sigh. He didn’t know if this was a trap, but he also knew that the breach team was definitely out there. Self-preservation played heavily into the gesture with the shotgun. Dust was motioned away from the sinks. She flopped and rolled over before settling on the floor of a stall. Vince kept an eye on the mirror to watch her as he picked at the chips bag. All sealed and no marks from the knife. The real test came when he checked the biometrics. Dust had been pretty sure he would live from the kiss, but this was the moment of truth. “Hmmph, looks like you live little sparrow. So now what?” Vince tapped his data slate gently on the leg, Dust knowing just what to do.

 

“There’s a storage compartment in my leg. Drop your radio in there and walk away. No one will find you were here once they bomb the place.” Dust watched as Vince grabbed her leg and froze. His face slackened as he seemed to melt at the joints. He collapsed on the floor with a smile on his face. “Oh yeah, I should add a bunch more to this conversation. And not have said some stuff here I guess.”

 

She got up and hobbled her way over to Vince. The stalls made for excellent support from her missing limb. “So a couple of things for real now.” She turned him over to expose her leg. And make sure he was breathing. “I want to defect, but I can’t without a power supply. Next you’re going to be very glad you have a powerful anesthetic in your system shortly. You can’t walk away from here, they have your face. I’m going to make you a deal. Your freedom for my freedom. Just act like you are high if you agree.” Dust rolled on her back until her leg looked to be positioned right and pushed forward. The mating surfaces connected and her own hell began as the nerves forcefully reconnected. This was what had turned her into a junkie, the constant prototyping on her flesh. She could feel it now, this familiar pain pulling back memories of what had been done to her.

 

“Since you agree Vince, let’s get you worked over.” Dust brought her newly attached leg down on his face, the first blow plastering his nose flat. A hook from her off leg shifted the flesh on his right cheek, tearing at the fat deposits there as it smooshed and rolled in. Dust kept up her beating on the man, adding a few to other parts of the body as she made it look less calculated. All the while she kept a facial recognition scan running. She wouldn’t harm him anymore than she needed, he had a message to deliver. “Now I am actually really sorry about this, you have such nice hands.” Dust rubbed them on her chest fluff. Vince just giggled in his high, spitting blood and a tooth on the floor. “But I need to keep them from fingerprinting you, so.” She pulled at her An94 and brought its buttstock down on his fingers. The bone yielded and flesh bloodied, but it had its purpose. The twist she gave afterwards didn’t. “That’s for interrupting my bath.” The Pegasus loped him over to the handicap stall she had been in. His hands were draped on the bars, and the expoxy he had brought was drizzled liberally on them. The combination of swelling and caustic resin would remove his fingerprints. There was no more Vince Clortho in that bathroom. There was just some vagabond held in there for reasons. Reasons Dust made clear when she pulled his pants down and left him exposed.

 

Dust picked up his radio and pushed it into her nanoforge. The device was broken down and component atoms added to her own stockpiles. His tablet followed as she dumped his flack vest over the side of the stall. It was going to be his only real defense when the shooting started. Satisfied, she gathered her gear and gave a toilet a flush. She did need to keep up the show they were in there for sex after all. Finished, she walked out. All she had to do was grab her target and escape. The small shimmer of air in the shape of a man’s head outside the window that greeted her made her pause. Was he the recon or had she taken too long. She just watched him, eyes tracking his haze as he moved. Finally he noticed her noticing of him. She mouthed, “Target not secure” in the hopes she could get the time she needed. He paused a few seconds before fading back into the air, his scattering lost as he walked away.

 

 

 

 

 

Uragan is Russian for hurricane

Pizdezh serious bullshit1

Valorian the male Aleria the female

Canyon Breaker unicorn cyborg mare with augmented armor

Setting 0 is, there is no Dust, just a flesh golem

Setting 1 is Dust but barely, overly literal instruction follower

Setting 2 is Dust as a pacifist and overly caring, still her. This is the default setting for her, and the safest she can be.