Drone Pony CYOA: The Commander is missing! [Short]

>Time: 1231L
>Location: Home Base
>Routine: Active
>Emotional Sub-Routine: Worry......


>[Core Input]: It's been several hours since the Commander went out to meet friends in town.
>His directive was not to worry.
>But as you pace the halls of the base with nothing but the whirring of your modified core echoing in the dark halls, you can't quite control the sub-routine from running.
>Pausing to look out the Main Bay [Read: Living Room] window, the sub-routine quickens.
>The wind is howling, and a bitter chill is on the air according to your weather readouts.
>Where is the Commander?

>Processor quickening, your core narrows possible actions into three basic choices:
>Go out to locate the Commander
>Stay home, pacing the floors until his return
>Shut system down for a number of hours. The Commander will surely be back by then.....


>What do?
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>Probability dictates the chance of the Commander needing assistance is more likely in the .01-10% range.
>Higher if he forgot to take gloves.

>Deciding these chances are too high, you opt to go out and search for the commander.
>Fetching the woven hat and scarf he had made for you and donning them appropriately, you open the front bay hatch and step out into the chill of a winter night.
>Luckily your core keeps you warm despite the chill, your exterior just thick enough to ward off the worst of the weather.
>Unfortunately the condensation in the air is too high; Ascending will cause ice to form under your wings and on your propeller blades.
>Flying isn't an option this time.

>Trudging through the mild snowfall, mildly amused by the constant crunch beneath your hooves, you forge your way into town proper.
>[Correction to local time: 0048L. Previous reading 12 hours off. Effect of panic?]
>Your core vibrates as it tries to quarantine the worry sub-routine; The Commander must be found and brought back to base. Worrying will not help this endeavor.
>Many of the stores are dark, the clerks having closed some time ago.
>Down the street to the right, a group of ponies hang outside a single story building with its windows lit. You can hear music coming from the place from here.
>The road to the left leads to the center of town proper; A metropolitan area known for restaurants and weekend entertainment.

>You recall the Commander said he was going drinking with some local friends before heading out.

>Which way?
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>You hang a left toward town center, toward the gaslamp district and ignoring what you think is a club of sorts down the right road. The Commander isn't likely to be there with a group of locals, after all.
>The metro area of town is mostly quiet. Many restaurants are closed, busboys and waitresses closing up shops and chattering with each other before parting ways to head to their respective homes.
>A light snowfall begins as another restaurant vacates for the evening and you turn your gaze to the pair of buildings with lights still on.
>Jovial singing comes from the one furthest left with its door slightly ajar. The one on the right seems to be more...contained. A restaurant, perhaps.

>Which building do you enter?
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>Sub-Routine "Worry" has ceased
>Sub-Routine "Aggression" engaging....
>Mode: Rescue Operation
>Risk: Absolute; Succeed no matter the cost

>Your propeller shifts into maximum speed over the course of a few seconds, making your scarf billow in the cool breeze generated by the action.
>Gritting your teeth, you lift your hooves from the ground and use the propeller to push yourself through the air quickly.
>Flying rapidly just a foot off the ground, you head straight for the restaurant door!

>You spiral deftly just before hitting the door, making sure your wings clear the doorway vertically as you bash the unlocked door wide open with your hooves and fly several feet into the restaurant, hovering just above standard pony head-level to get a better look of the place.
>Startled ponies jerk away from the door in primitive response, a few ducking beneath their tables in terror.
>Perhaps they haven't realized you are unarmed.

>No matter.

>Visibility within the restaurant is good, and you quickly scan for facial, profile, and body type recognition at the few visible booths and tables in the immediate vicinity.
>Matches come back negative.
>Before the waitress manning the welcome booth can regain her composure, you dart further into the restaurant, still scanning as the drone of your propeller begins to draw the attention of even the most dense occupants of the restaurant.

>In the second to last table in the back, you finally find the Commander.
>Three stallions and a mare sit at the large circular table with your leader, all with their eyes on you as you rapidly take position to the back left of the Commander.
>He turns to look at you, surprise evident on his features and a half-filled glass of murky brown liquid in his hand. His guests are also struck mute for the time being.

>What do?
>Tell the Commander you're here to assist him
>Assist the Commander in leaving. Hastily.
>Question the table occupants.
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>"Commander! I'm here to protect and assist you!" You cry out, cutting power to your propeller as you vault over the top of him and pull your hind legs forward toward your stomach, simultaneously folding your wings back before they can strike the Commander's arms.
>You plummet like a sack of grain straight into the Commander's lap with a dull thud.
>The Commander jerks forward with a muffled grunt at the impact, nearly spilling his drink.
>Having thought ahead, you're already bracing his arm with your right hoof, the left spread to the side protectively.
>If they seek to do harm on the Commander, they'll have to get through you first!

>The table occupants are quiet as the Commander adjusts the way he sits, jostling you slightly to make himself more comfortable. You note his increased body temperature against your chassis as he squishes you gently to his chest with his left hand, even as he moves the drink in his right to his lips.
>"Well," he says, setting the glass down after polishing off the glass, "This is PQ-1. Seems she found us rather than the introduction I had imagined."
>Your knit hat is suddenly, but gently, removed, making a soft alarm ring within your core.
>"Remember to remove your hat, or you might overheat, PQ," the Commander gently chides, making your heatsinks malfunction slightly.
>"Quite remarkable," one of the stallions replies with a smile.
>"The Emotion Chip seems to be working quite nicely," another says, raising his drink in a brief toast.
>"Well it certainly has the irrational bit down," the mare says with a giggle.

>It seems they were talking about you....
>But....who are they?

>The table falls back into small talk and complacent comfort as the Commander idly rubs your head between your ears.

>What do?
>Or do nothing?
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>Sub-Routine "Aggression" has ceased
>Sub-Routine reset to "Passive"
>Mission Routine altered to "Intelligence Gathering"
>Sub-Sub-Routine: Get cozy with Commander [Warning; Fraternization!]
>Warning Revoked
>Proceeding....

>You lower your arms and relax a bit, sighing contentedly as you're allowed to relax into the Commander's warm embrace.
>It's not entirely a facade, but your core focuses your receptors toward the other occupants of the table to gather what you can about their conversation.
>Doing so is somewhat difficult, what with the Commander being touchy-feely with you while taking an occasional drink, and the distraction that being like this with him provides.

>"A shame that line wasn't in such demand....."
>"Moreso that the Emotion Chip was never fully funded...."
>"Prime example....very successful.....pony-like..."
>"Capabilities....exceeding normal..."
>"Free thought does wonders...."

>Entire segments are lost as the Commander rubs your ears affectionately.

>The tradeoff is worth it, you think.
>Most of your processes agree.

>Almost suddenly, it seems, the occupants are getting up and donning their own winter gear.
>The Commander rotates the chair the two of you sit on to the left, and the guests approach you in a line, greeting you and shaking your hoof, thanking you for showing up and praising you for your thoughtfulness about the Commander.
>It's enough to make you blush.
>The mare is the last one to say farewell, and her hoofshake lasts longer than the others.
>"We'll be seeing each other again, I'm sure, PQ." She says happily. "I look forward to that time."
>You nod and thank the mare before she departs.

>The Commander and You sit at the table a while, though he takes no more drinks.
>"Think I might've had one too many," he says, voice wavering slightly, "Gonna be wobbly walk back, hahah..."
>He sighs, patting your head.
>"But, I'd rather not wait. How about we get going, PQ?"

>Five more minutes
>Okay
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>Eventually, the two of you wander from the restaurant out into the cold. The Commander leaning on you slightly as you help guide him home.

>"I'm glad you came looking for me," he says after a time, "Even if I didn't need any help."
>You look up at him, taking note of his honest, somewhat tired smile.
>"Of course, Commander," you reply, simply. It's your duty, after all.
>Even if something inside you says it extends beyond that.

>The rest of the walk home is quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath hoof and boot.
>When the two of you get home, the Commander removes his winter clothing with a lazy quickness, tossing it on the main bay floor and flopping onto the couch most ungracefully.
>"I think I'm good, here," he says after turning over onto his back and staring at the ceiling, "Time to get some rest, PQ."
>Silently-Or as silently as you can manage with all the whirring noises you make just by moving-You take a position on the floor beside the couch, curling up slightly to maintain a perimeter on this side of the Commander.
>Suddenly, you feel a pair of hands lifting you up! Your snout scrunches involuntarily as the Commander places you on his chest and stomach, holding you close as he mumbles, "Goodnight PQ. Thanks again."
>His voice trails off to a whisper as he says two words that shake your very core.
>"Love you....."

>The snoring a half minute later widens your smile, even if it almost ruins the moment.
>Almost.

>You burn a copy of the imagery into your memory before cuddling into the Commander and going into sleep and recovery mode for the night.