Catalyst 2.0: Free Will (complete)

>Empty room of ivory make, filled with chairs.  Like a dentists waiting room, reclining within small metal shelves stood a neatly organized filing of holographic magazines.  You'd pulled one of the little rectangles apart, the paper thin plastic revealed to be a screen, as you began to read.
>So far, it had been about two hours.  You'd rejected the need for medical attention.  Twilight Sparkle's insistence, you cared little for.  Rarity, on the other hand, proved more impossible to reject.
>”I'll see you once I've taken care of things at home, okay?” she'd said.  Who were you to argue?  You had no idea what she intended to do, and were certain your... Unique interaction in the entire event likely hadn't left a taste amiable to taking care of your daughter or Pinkie.
>Point of fact, Twilight had stamped a second collar on you before you had even been given painkillers.  She left the local medics and technicians to handle the rest.  You left with new muscle suit that made your leg painlessly stiff, giving you a limp.  The rest, they could do little for.
>The guards had refused to escort you.  Flat out, completely, refused.  The news of your exploits had traveled at the pace of emails.  Hell, faster- apparently, security had been watching you the entire time.  They hadn't approved of what they'd seen.
>They calculated the damage you and Gilda had done.  Gilda's attack, they knew, was individual to her.  Your reaction, and the subsequent destruction of hundreds of thousands of digibits of gear, had left them in a state of shock.
>You were in their home, their workplace, and destroying projects along with recreational decks.
>All because you had been pissed off, and because you indulged Gilda in wanting to talk.
>The inane flow of text on the holographic page did nothing to actually calm you.  Seething in pain and residual anger, you'd waited.  Inside the glass walls, soundproofed, tightly sealed, and with scared guards at either exit, you watched them talk.
>Gilda and Twilight were talking.  Twilight had taken to attending the impromptu meeting in armor. Gilda had been afforded shock restraints, and a tranquilizer injector, primed to activate if she left the proximity field installed at the doors and vents.
>Gilda was smoking.  She'd been given some kind of papers, a small bag of green, dried leaves that looked like a sort of exotic spice.  At her request, no doubt- yet, why had she been indulged?
>You didn't like it when she started laughing silently inside the room.  When she pointed at Twilight.  When the guards started shuffling uneasily at the mention of something while she dabbed ashes away into a glass tray on a glass table.
>When Twilight shook in her seat, slapping a hoof down and dragging it away to stand in a corner for several seconds.
>The only thing able to draw you away, was the sound of Rarity's voice.  You left the magazine on the seat next to you, and began to smile.  A forehoof met your cheek, your head turning quickly to the side as your face started to sting.  You turned slowly back to her, the anger flaring for just an instant, before sinking at the sight of her eyes.
>Dried mascara left black rivulets on her perfect, white face.  She shook angrily where she stood, the hoof remaining aloft until she started to speak.  “Do you have ANY idea how scared we were?!”
>You rest a hoof along your cheek, rubbing it.
>”Sweet Heart asked if daddy needed a new body.  How do you think I answered that? How COULD I?”  She leaned in close to you, her voice barely below a shriek.  Her throat made her voice shrill, but she retained that silken alliteration. “How do you answer a child that can do the things you can, *without* inspiring them to do it?”
>You open your mouth to speak.  She puts a hoof to it, belligerantly, and continues. “She doesn't get much time with you, from attending her school.  Do you know what that school was made for?”
>You merely glance at her.  You turn your head and eyes away, knowing she's going to answer you regardless of your own admission.
>”The 'different' ponies.  The ones that started being born just, like, you.  She's been going there for a year- and then you arrive.  YOU, with the perfect knowledge of exactly what she's trying to learn.  The ORIGINAL knowledge.”
“You say that like I understand it completely myself.  You say it like I accept it.”
>She puts one of those half-melted hoof covers to your cheek. She turns you back to face her, and the sensation is almost demonically foreboding.  Beautiful wrath, impossible to ignore.
>”No.  You must.  She looks up to you, sees you for what you are, because she is one herself.”  She glared.  “What do you think she said when she found out her father jumped out of a building to chase the monster that invaded her home and took hurt Pinkie?”
>A crippling urge arose.  Nobody, except you, was allowed to talk that way about Gilda.  A mindlessly erupting, visceral ideal, the origin of which you had no real perception.  You swallowed the words you wanted to say, thankfully, and managed a substitute.
“Probably the same thing she said when she found out what I did to catch her.”
>”Heaven forbid.  If Sweet Heart found out she could do the things you did...” She shook her head.
“Are you saying that you'd rather watch her run off?  Watch Gilda fly off into the sunset with a smug grin an a broken home behind her?”
>Rarity, apparently, did not think you deserved the right to interrupt.  Before she can gather a coherent word, you cut her off.
“Like it or not, Rarity, I got shit done after a knee-jerk reaction.  A decorated griffon soldier attacked our home, our daughter, our friend, and our livelihood. Now, she's locked away.  You know why?”
>You empty your lungs once, before filling them.
“Because I made a choice, and followed through.  I had the capacity, and I made the decision to use it.  But I haven't had any real options ever since I got back to Equestria.  They've been made for me, or I've been pushed and pulled and thrown into them without any say.”
>You lift a brow.  She takes a step back, her angry sapphires blinking again. “I know that. It's so unjust, and I get to see it every time it happens to you.” She sniffles.  “It hurts, watching you have to do it.”
“Then why are you chastising me for it?!  Our daughter is safe, Pinkie is jarred but she's fine.  Sweet Heart didn't even get touched.  Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, with what I could do- I was never in any danger in the first place? And now I get lectured on how actually DOING something to at least try and protect us is so completely wrong?”
>”I just...” she sits back on her haunches, and shrugs off encroaching tears.  “When you came back.” she began.
“What?”
>”Not from that... wench, Vinyl.  The first time.”  She looked up at you.  Terrified to stillness, she had to swallow as if she were tossing back liquor onto a bloody throat.  “Did you actually want to?”
>Your eyes go wide.  The momentum building in your chest, that burning craving to defend your own violence, screamed and sizzled when it died.  Your jaw goes slack, your lungs then numb.
“I...”
>Her eyes plead.  She shakes where she sits, and your hesitation leaves her breathless.  You fall back to your haunches.
>Your head lowers.  You begin to nod. Your eyes clench shut, so tightly that your brow starts to ache.
>You feel hooves on your cheeks, and a kiss to your forehead.  Your head, limp and weakly supported, is lifted from below while the scent of a lavender perfume hovers along your senses.
“I was supposed to be dead, Rarity.  I was never supposed to even have that option.  Then I suddenly did.”
>You look her in the eyes, a hoof going to her shoulder.  You feel her nuzzling in against you, and hear a sputtered laugh.  “You came back though.  For me?” she asks.
“No.  It was for me.”
>She silences you with a kiss, her hooves bracing your head from behind.  It lasts a long, long time.
>Then, the glass doors behind you open.
>You don't allow the kiss to break.  You pull back only when you are well and prepared to listen.  Despite Twilight's cursing, vehement tone, you frankly didn't give a fuck.
>At least, not until Gilda approaches you from the side.  Grinning.  You and Rarity both eye her.
>Twilight growls. “Rarity, I want you to take him back to the penthouse. Initiate the lockdown.”
>”What? Whatever for, Twilight?”
>”Listen to me.  There are a lot of things I need you to accept right now.  No questions.  The first, is that Gilda is on our side.”
>”I don't believe that for an instant.”
>”Noted.”
>You glance at the griffon.  She looks between you and Rarity, lifting a brow twice in quick succession.  She curls a thumb and foretalon into a circle, sticking the foretalon of her other hand repeatedly through it.  It does not go unnoticed by Rarity.
>You roll your eyes.
>”She has a LunaCorp. Uplink installed.  It's the same type he was using on the field.  It has a number of hardwired DRM algorithms that we need the formula's to if we're going to disable Luna's control over Anonymous.”
“What? She doesn't have a damn say in-”
>”Your combat code is all of LunaCorp. Design.” she said. “It's not just an addition to you, it's a restraint, and we are on a very short time table.”
“A restraint for what?”
>”Your memories.”  She holds up a small, silver flash drive.  “Watch this when you're back in the penthouse. Not a moment before you understand?”  You take it from her, peering betwixt the griffon and violet pony.
>”Gilda has cleared up a lot of things, but we need more.  We need what's in your head.”
“Twilight, I already told you.  This isn't up for debate- I am NOT going to let myself-”
>”Fuck you, and fuck that happy ideal.” Twilight shrieked.
>Taken aback, you are left speechless at her outburst.  Rarity speaks for you... And with a growl in her throat she barely manages to hide.  “Twilight, darling- what gives you any sort of right to-”
>“If what Gilda said is true, the world should have ended the day before you showed up.” She jabbed a hoof into your chest. “And you are the only survivor with the knowledge of why it didn't.  Right up here.” She tapped the side of your head with an aggressive bounce of her hoof, her sudden touch causing you to flinch.
>Without another word, she storms past.  “We're hitting the local LunaCorp. Building in three hours to get the codes.  Gilda is point.”
>Rarity gasps.  She tries to stammer out some kind of reasoning, some sort of placation.  Twilight doesn't hear a word.
>”and you- YOU!” Twilight points toward you.  “Stay right there. Right in that Penthouse.  This is strictly off the books, utterly silent.  You are not to interfere in any way, you understand?”
>She stands there and breathes, looking between the three of you.  Gilda is still giving a sidelong smirk. You and Rarity, however, are aghast at the normally logical pony stomping through the building.
>Twilight claps the hoof to the ground, letting out an exasperated sigh.  “Don't look at me like that.  I'm sorry. I'm sorry okay? Just... Just access the portable.  You need to understand. I've got to go with Spike back to Canterlot.”
>”Twilight, you're practically foaming at the mouth.  What's wrong?”
>”Cadence is sick.  It's absolutely related to this.  Related to him.” She points at you.  “Ponies are going to die, and keep dying, if we don't...” she sighs again.  “Cadence is right at the top of the list.  If Gilda doesn't get that information, then...”  She shakes her head.
>Rarity tries to intervene. “How can you say that? First you say it's over, and you want to know why. Now you're saying he needs to be dragged back into it?”
>You can't hold it any more.  Not for Twilight, not for Rarity.  You hook your hooves into the collar of the griffon's coat, and pull the two of you together.  Your voice barely above an audible snarl, her expression merely flattens.
“You? Why the hell are you doing this? Why bring all this back with you?”
>Gilda, her eyes bloodshot from whatever she had been smoking, sputters into a snicker.  “You really think it just left you? It won't stop till one of you is dead.”
>She bumped your shoulder with a closed fist. ”That's the bond, Freakshow.  That's what made me your goddamn war sister.” she said.  “Loyalty doesn't end at death for one of us.  Not for family.  And because of that, I want to do what's right for both of us, no matter much blood ends up on the walls.” She gives a smile. “To do that, though? Well.  You gotta get back out of this nifty comfort zone.” She giggled. “We gotta make you see things you wouldn't believe, all over again.”
“and then what? What good could possibly come from it besides driving me completely insane?!”
>”Then we can find the bitch that started all of this.” she said. The smirk turns almost maniacally vicious, as if she's about to salivate at the idea.  “If we can know right were it is, well.”  She laughed. “Then we can REALLY kill it. Rip it apart with our mouths, scatter it's entrails to the sky, and crush it's brain under our boots.  And you can trust your war sister when she says this.
>You will never feel as free, as when you crawl out from the corpse of the creature that drove you to doing it in the first place.”
–
>The penthouse had taken on a warm, orange glow.  The sky burned pink, clouds burning neon in the sky.  As Rarity's horn flared, thick, heavy metal shutters slid into place over the glass door.  The room grew dark, and synthetic white light melted the world back into focus.
>”Mommy, I'm scared.”
>”Oh I know you are Sweet Heart... There's nothing to worry about now.” Rarity brushed a hoof over the filly's mane.  She took care not to touch her horn, and let her close.
>”But what about Aunt Pinkie? Is she still in the infirmary?”
>”She's a strong pony, dear. She didn't really get hurt, she'll be fine.” Rarity paused a moment. “Believe it or not, she actually fought with that very same griffon before.” she said.
>”Really? Did it have a lot of explosions and stuff?”
>Rarity couldn't help but shake her head.  “Of course not. Pinkie doesn't really do that sort of thing. No, it was something you should learn. She beat that creature the first time with her wits.” She booped Sweet Heart's nose.
>You stare at the silver flash drive, turning it this way, and that.  You watch the reflection of light in it's luster, lifting it upward to view it's silhouette.
>”What about daddy?” she asked.
>”I... Well, he beat her too, darling.”
>”But, daddy jumped out a window.  I thought you said that was stupid.”
>You peer from the drive back to Rarity, and stare long enough to blink. She lifts her nose at you, standing by both her ousted opinion, and your inadvertently sincere child.  “Well, he still managed to beat her. Which shows what kind of person she is.”
“Your mother is right.”
>It had been the first time you actually said it.  All the while you'd been back, you'd felt as if you would be encroaching upon some carefully laid plan Rarity had set up for her.  Even for Sweet Heart, you were some unknown, outside force...
>Could you ever possibly change that? For either of them?
>You lower the drive and stare at it again.
“It was really dumb.  But I wasn't thinking straight.  All I could think about was how you might have been in danger.”
>”But, I wasn't.”  Sweet Heart said.  Appearing as if scolded, she lowered her head a little. “She took one look at me, then just...”
“I didn't know that.”
>You put the drive next to the console, and walk over to her.  You lay down, allowing yourself that soft, common practice you'd put into place with her so far.  Eye-to-eye, you do your best to smile.
“All I was thinking about was making sure she would not be coming back to hurt you.”
>She nods a slow, humble little nod.
“Now, I have to do something, okay?  You're not allowed to see it right now.”
>”But I-”
>You shake your head.
“Did what they said about what I did before sound scary?  When I was going after the griffon?”
>”Uh-huh.”
“Well.  I might look really scary again.  I don't want to be scary, but sometimes... Well, for when griffons come around, somep0ny has to be the scary one.  You don't want to see me scary, right?”
>She shook her head. “Nuh-uh!” she said.
“Good, because I don't want to be-”
>”I wanna see you brave!”
>Her clarification pulls a lump from your chest, to your throat.  You close your eyes, and sigh.  If there was one thing you remembered with the utmost clarity, one thing you wished you could have deleted, it was what Rarity had once said about you.  What she'd said while you were holding her while she was bleeding, and literally broken.  You were very brave.
“Sometimes, Sweet Heart, bravery is all a pony has.”
>You boop her nose.
>”I've seen a lot of brave stuff! School talks about you a lot.”
“Well, don't believe everything you hear or read.  Being the strong pony doesn't mean it's always fun, or good.  Now come on, kiddo.  You don't want to see daddy like this.”
>”But what if I'm brave about it?”
“It doesn't mean what you see won't hurt you. I don't want to see you hurt.”
>You look up to Rarity, painfully, before you're able to stand.  She pets Sweet Heart again, trying to make sense of what she could say to the little filly.  “How about,” she says. “*I* tell you a story about daddy tonight?”
>”Story time?” Sweet Heart exclaims. She smiles, with big, bright eyes.
>”Story time.”  A noise between a delighted squeal and an audible word escapes Sweet Heart's lips.  She trots off on her little legs to her room, leaving you and Rarity alone inside.
>For that fleeting moment, Rarity gives you a worried look, a twinge of damage in her blue eyes. She whispers. “Can you give me time to watch it, too?”
“Are you sure you want to?”
>”Darling, I may not have much to my name in terms of spirit.” She gives an aching smile. “But if it helps you, I suppose I can add bravery to that list.”
>You take a deep breath, scrubbing at the rug with a hoof.  You nod.
>After a kiss to you cheek, she indulges in a deeper, more honest one.  She tears herself away, eyes locked with yours, before she gives that dainty swagger into the room.  On the console, you check the time.
>By now, the sun was down.  Judging by Twilight's usual prompt, robust delegation abilities, you assumed Gilda was already on-station.  Locked away in your shelled home, helpless otherwise, you insert the drive into the port.
>Time again, to be brave.
–
>The view was from above and away, a camera in the corner of the small room.  It looked down upon the table, while Gilda took to scrubbing some feathers at her neck.  A timer rested dutifully at the corner, purple and obvious against the backdrop.
>Three ponies entered.  Twilight Sparkle between two guards, all of them armored, with the guards wielding some kind of fully armed weapons on harnesses.  They took a place to either side of the off-camera exit, the back of their helmets barely visible.
>Twilight hovered a set of objects form her bag.  They floated gently over to the table.  When they landed, they became more clear; apparently magic took to distorting the visuals for this camera, something like a censor blur.  It was an ash tray, and a bag of dark green herbs.  Rolling papers rested within a tiny rectangular box.
>”You know, normally one would ask for food and water.”
>”I'm everything normal.” Gilda replied.
>Twilight took a stance opposite the table, then sat on her haunches.  While the griffon delicately mulled about, dusting the center of a paper.  It didn't take her more than a few moments to combine them into a thin, white wire.  Holding it between her thumb and foretalon, she presented it to Twilight.  The purple pony snorted, her horn flared, and the edge of the joint started to burn.
>Twilight started to speak.  Gilda halted her with an open claw, and took to a long, slow drag.  She exhaled a cloud of light, curling smoke.  It took her a long time to start talking.
>”Okay.  NOW, you can ask whatever the heck it is you're going to ask.”
>”What are you doing here?”  Twilight was quick to jump at the opportunity, starting before the griffon had even finished speaking.
>”Reminded an old friend he still has a job that can get done.  With, or without him.”
>”Obviously not, considering how much property damage was caused.  Not to mention the people you hurt.”
>”Okay, get things straight first.” Gilda pointed to Twilight.  “I only hurt guards.  Not one of em is dead.  And all that collateral? Yeah.  HE caused most of that. Not me.”  She took another drag. “What's the ratio of catnip in this? It's doin my lower half real good.”
>”This entire incident only started because of you showing up.  What gives you the right to think you're not at fault?”
>”Absolutely nothing, but I'm only taking responsibility for what I actually did, you understand? You can't fault me for an entire deck, especially when I didn't even have any freaking munitions.”
>Twilight sighed. “Point taken.  But you still haven't answered my question.”
>”Sure I did.” she replied.  “Didn't you scavenge some details from you little moon-princess' lawyers?”
>Twilight didn't reply.  Gilda was half done with her joint by the time she started to speak again.  She was grinning.  “We had to kill a pony.” she replied.  “To do that, we had destroy her infrastructure.”
>”So it was an established base of operations.”
>”Makeshift.  But yeah.”  She blew out smoke, the rings distorting thanks to the shape of her beak. “Had to kill... What was it?  Five hundred some odd pseudo's?
>”Five hundred?  You call that makeshift?”
>”It was all that was active.  All that she could maintain.  We were about sixteen.” She tapped the shriveling edge of the joint into the tray. “Well, with him included.”
>”Why was he part of the op?”
>”Because he was the only one any one of your ponies could think of that could actually end the bitch.  He did something similar before, it was all we had.  That, and the hope it would be enough.”
>”So it was a digital threat. Something sentient.”
>”You betcha.”
>Twilight brought up a hologram.  Indiscernable as to their contents from the angle, Gilda squeezed one eye shut and leaned in close to see it.  “huh.  That's... Huh.”
>”This is where he looked like he was killing you.”
>She blinked.  Even from the distance and integrity of the picture, it was obvious her eyes had become red.  “Well he sure didn't do a good job.” she said.  “Had a sear disc and everything.”
>”He didn't mean to kill you.” Twilight said. “had the perfect chance, it seems.”
>”Yeah, well. I suppose he had good reason.”
>”You would know what that was, wouldn't you?”
>”Normally, I'd say yes. Always happy to have another fan.” She peered at the shrinking blunt, then shrugged and took another drag. “That, though.  That I don't remember.”
>”Do you get off on lying?”
>”I do NOT lie about someone trying to kill me.  Hell, I'd brag, then show you to the grave.” She whistled out another plume of smoke. “That was toward the end of the op. The very end.”
>”If you don't remember, how do you know that much?”
>”Because I blacked out toward the end of the op.  My neural link got infected with some kind of shit- have you ever heard of that?”
>”No.  You can see why I'm skeptical.”
>”Sure.  But it's true.  It got in, started making me see things, started telling me things.  I can't tell you what happened because for a good twelve hours, I have no idea what was real.”
>Twilight pointed.  Gilda, slow and confused, took a glance to where she was indicating.  She laughed, waving around the small white stick. “Oh, that's rich. You think we had access to goods like this on the field? Hell, we have problems getting food.”  Reminded of what she then had, she slapped the remainder into the tray.  She started to make another.  “This is for another reason altogether anyway.”
>Twilight let out a long, rolling groan. “Which is?”
>”Monitoring purposes.  See, I think that's when he tore out my uplink.  I have a new one.”  Gilda paused to look back at Twilight. “You know.  A newer one.  With built in recording systems and an always-online connection.  Ain't that a bitch in an interrogation with a VIP of a higher ranking company?”
>”At this point it doesn't really matter. You've done an awful lot in such a short time span, do you really think she'd publicly condone it?”
>Gilda grinned. She held up the joint, and passed it knuckle over knuckle.  “Not with this she's not.  She ain't even got a clue where I am, thanks to what this does to an unbooted uplink.”
>”You're not active?”
>”You think I'm that stupid? No.  I'm not.  I wasn't.  THAT'S why I came here, THAT'S why I need to get to him.  It was a matter of timing.”
>”Clarify.  Not a single inquiry has come down from LunaCorp. HQ.”
>”Because she's still looking for him.” She said.  “From what I've seen he's in a new chassis.  She's stuck on the old signal.  I, however, have ties to that wonderful bastard.  What do you think would happen if I suddenly found him with an always-on visual connection?”
>”Goddamnit...”
>”Trust me, if you hadn't gotten this to me in a timely fashion, you wouldn't even be on the shit list. You'd be in a grave or a cell.”  She turned to the guards. “You guys too.” She mate a cutting motion along her throat. “Squick! Just gone.  Next day there'd be a press release on how evil you were.”
>”Is that what you're planning to do? Is this some kind of distant revenge?”
>”Revenge? What kind of idiot are you? No, she'd kill me, you, every single thing involved. Well, not him, though.  He's not allowed to die at this point.” She held out the joint.  It was lit in an instant, another flare of magic sparking it to life.  “the moment she finds out where he actually is, my job is done.  I'm gone.”
>”Then why did you even take a chance at coming back? If you're a real soldier, and could have solved something by dying, why do THIS?”
>”It wouldn't have meant anything if I'd died as some corporate outlaw.” she said. “Not a single one of us would have gotten out in the black.  If you understand anything about being a soldier,” She tapped off the freshly ashen edge. “You'll shut up now before you say something we all regret.  Especially him.”
>”You aren't in a position to bargain.”
>”Neither of us are.  But we're damn well trying.  Which leads me to something I have to ask about you.”
>”I will not and cannot promise a solid answer.”
>”Sure you can, it's yes or no.”  Gilda closed her eyes, watching the glowing edge of the new joint as she spun it in the air. She took a particularly long, deep drag, holding it until she chirped out a few coughs.  “I want to ask you for asylum from LunaCorp.”
>Twilgiht put her hooves on the edge of the table.  The hologram between them vanished before she leaned in to yell. “Are you insane?!”
>”Sure sure, big sister and all that.  Which is why I'm asking.” She held out the one talon in a wide, sweeping shrug. “The uplink is modular. You remove it from me, put in your own, she can't track me.”
>Twilight let out a deep, heavy breath.  She fell back onto her haunches, her hooves limply falling from the table and back into balancing where she sat.
>”You install whatever kill codes she's got, under your own copyright and algorithm.”
>”What?”
>”I will trade full on answers to whatever I can, if you provide me with a Firmware's uplink.” She snorted a quick cloud of smoke to Twilight. It burst when it met her violet nose, and she was forced to turn her head and wave it away. “Take it or leave it.  This stuff I'm puffin will only last for a few hours, so you better choose quick.”
>Twilight shook her head.  She slapped a hoof on the table once, then braced her head upon it. “I'll... Do what I can.”
>Gilda closed her eyes.  With a smokey sigh herself, she dropped another dollop of ash into the tray. “Good enough.” She said.  “Ask away.  I'll try to keep the bitchism to a minimum.  But I can't promise a straight answer to what I don't know.”
>”You'll provide what we ask.”
>”If I know it.”
>”Okay then.  What were the details of the op?”
>”Kill a pony.  Destroy the last known pseudo-pony fabricators as a tertiary.”
>”In the crystal district?  They had bio-manufacturing capacity?”
>”We didn't know until we got into the tower.”
>”The Tower? That WAS you?”
>”I can't take all the credit.  He did most of the effective grunt work.  We got in, found the control unit, offed it.  Then, we bombed out the forward ops base- The Tower.”
>”Do you even know the fallout that's caused?!”
>”Oh. No.” Gilda craned her neck backwards, talking with the joint in her beak.  “Why? There is some?”
>”You blew up a literal monument. Of course there would be.”
>Gilda snorted. “No.  we were told it was going to be passed off as a demolition of abandoned structures.  Especially after we saw the logo of who was running the place.”
>”The Crystal Ponies left the place a while ago, but it was for pure renovation.  Nothing could have warranted that kind of... What were you thinking?”
>”Crystals? You thought it was them?”  Gilda peered between the guards and Twilight. “For a nerd, you sure don't do your research.  They “abandoned” it for testing on a new portable crystal drive, in co-op with Ebon Pegasi.”
>Twilight nearly fell over.  She had to breath, slowly, closing her eyes to meditate momentarily.  “They've been gone ever since the second scorching.”
>”Right. Sure.  Whatever.  Listen to me, soldier to nerd-” She pointed, resting the joint on a dimple in the tray.  “Infrastructure of that nature doesn't just vanish.  Not without some MAKING it disappear.  What do you think my unit was hired for?  God, it was supposed to be simple, too...”
>”But you're saying the drone program was still active. IS, still active.”
>”No, and no.  We blew it straight to tartarus.  It was only on a standby cycle, until it was found.”
>”So you're saying it was repurposed?”
>”No again.  It was used just like it was meant to be used.”
>Another hologram rose from the table.  Twilight started to point at it from the opposite side. “Here, and here.  You can't say those aren't changelings.”
>”They aren't.”
>”Then what ARE they?  Nothing can produce changelings at the level of modern fabricators.  Nothing could even produce them.”
>”They're pseudo's.” Gilda said.  “The drone program only put combat suites into generic personalities.”
>”What? That doesn't...” She trailed off. “No, wait... They wouldn't have personality code.  Nothing for the bodies to dictate a shape from. They'd revert to the base DNA over time without them.”
>Gilda shrugged. “I figured they were just pseudo changelings.  Fit the MO.  No mind, only able to take orders.”
>”They'd need a control unit though.” Twilight said.  “Without a solid control unit... How did Luna know? Did she create one? Try to make one off of Anonymous' base code?”
>”Him? No.  He was too nice a guy. There was already a hub unit on site, it had been reactivated.  Then we got sent in.”
>The hologram switched. Twilight again pointed. “Here.  Was this it?”
>Gilda squinted.  She took up the joint and puffed at it, talons on the table.  “Which one? I just see something tall. that might be it, but if I don't get a half-blooded picture of my own mug I'm not committing to anything.”
>”You don't see the huge freaking cloud of smoke coming off it? That dark energy?”
>”What the hell are you talking about?” The griffon leaned in closer.  “I see a smile. That must be her- she was the only one that had any emotions. Crazy bitch, too.”
>”There is a ginourmous black cloud above her. You're telling me you can't see it?”
>Gilda sat back with a flop.  “Girl, I'm the one supposed to be stoned right now.”
>Twilight spun the hologram around.  She looked at it, hooves to her head.  She watched it for a long, long time, tracing a hoof over it.  She zoomed, she unzoomed.  “You're not magically sensitive, right?”
>”Barely.  I can smell it sometimes.”
>”That's why. That's why you can't see it!”  She spun it back to fully face Gilda, zooming it in upon the image. “Here- the reason you don't see the cloud is it's magical in nature.”
>”Whatever.” Gilda shrugged.
>”Don't you get it? That means she found out a way to traverse magically as well as digitally. She can manifest in the physical without aid now!”
>”Pfft. HA!  Not without a body she can't.  We broke the things legs and strapped a bomb to it.  Left it in the Tower lobby to go off with the others.”
>”No.” Twilight said. “When did you start to black out? When did you start seeing things?”
>Gilda stopped to think.  When a particular thought occurred, her eyes went momentarily wide before slitting. A low, resounding growl started, which melted into a sharp, spitting chirp. “Yeah, yeah I get you.”
>”He tore out the uplink.  Where did he leave it?”
>”Where we fought I guess. The Scorched Fields.” Gilda sighed. “Rainbow's grave, if I could be precise.”
>”Goddamnit. If he tore it out fast enough, she's still in that uplink.  Still out there in the field for some clean-up crew member to find.”  Her shoulders sunk.  “The virus?” She asked herself.
>”Yeah, yeah!” Gilda bobbed her claw up and down twice, letting the ash fall where it may.  “You could call it one.  Right after we demolished the tower with her in it, that's when my uplink started going nuts.”  She looked to the side, keeping the claw to the table.  A few seconds passed, Twilight beeping away at it.  Gilda dragged her claw in one aggravated swipe, leaving deep gashes in the table, ribbons of carved metal spinning away. “I knew the kill confirmation was on the contract for a reason.”
>”This is bad. This is really, really bad.  If she's related to the virus, then... She might have gotten some kind of control code out, something in the AR uplinks that-” An acknowledgement blipped for Twilight. “Oh my gosh.”  She held her head in her hooves, shaking it. “There's only ever a single recorded case of the virus ever existing at one time.”
>”How does that matter?!” Gilda snarled.  She groaned, and took yet another drag. “If anything, it's not spreading.”
>”No, it's transferring.  SHE, is transferring.  She's trying to find a suitable host.”  She dragged screens away.  “But why? She should be able to change to suit anything.”
>”the hell she can.  The only saving grace was that she couldn't. She only latched onto the hub unit because it was partially alicorn. It was all she could fully control.  That's why we would have been able to kill her.  If she's in something physical, we were told she could die.  If it was something digital, he could delete it. Trap her in one so she was entirely comprised of one, then kill her. End of story.”
>”Cadence...” Twilight whimpered.  “Who's DNA was the control unit modeled after? If we find any relatives, we might be able to get a target listing.  Run some intervention.”
>”She thought she could do some good by taking real ponies out of fights, so.  Luna volunteered way back.”
>”Son of a... Son of a BITCH-” Twilight stomped over to the corner of the room, out of sight of the camera.  Gilda watched her from the side.  She took to polishing off the joint, while Twilight fumed.  Then she took to creating one more with the remainder of the green “spices.”
>Minutes passed.  “You.  Not a word of this to anyp0ny.”
>”I work for you now, if you hold up your end.” She moved her claw as if pinching something, and zipped along her beak.
>Twilight came back into view, giving a stationary point. “Or you, or you.”  She pointed to the guards. “I swear to Celestia I will unlock those agents in the basement and fucking kill you myself.”
>Gilda grinned, twirling the joint in her talons. “Well, some little pony found her ovaries.” she said.
>”Shut the hell up.”  She stood still, staring at the floor while she smoldered.  “Gilda, your uplink is still inactive?”
>”Lemme check.”  She reached back.  She tugged at it, and with a resounding click, a cobalt colored square came free from her neck.  She shook it about, before plugging it back in.  “Well, my hearts didn't stop and the receiver in my neck didn't boil my spine, so I guess not.”
>”Good. That means it can't link to you. For now.  I need you.”
>”Didn't I just say that I worked for you?”
>”Rarity is going to hate me...” Twilight said to herself. “I can't believe she's still alive after everything we did to her.”
>”Yeah, you messed her up good the first time. She was PISSED when she found out who sent us.”
>”Chrysalis.  I can't believe the file shredder didn't-”
>”Chrysalis? Nah.”
>Twilight looked to Gilda, startled.  Her voice came quietly, cautiously.  “If it wasn't her, then who?”
>”I dunno.” Gilda replied. “When we had her legs broken, she kept going ON and ON and fucking ON.  Said she was empowering the body beyond what could be stopped.”  Gilda pocketed the new joint. “She blew up real good anyway, though.”
>”WHO? What was her name?!”
>Gilda regarded Twilight carelessly.  She zipped up the pocket on her jacket, appreciatively patting the now safe narcotic stick.   “Night Mare Moon.”
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