THE CELLS

By Einhander

Part 1: Control

The stallion sat in the middle chair, staring with professional but half-hearted interest at the wall.

It was a long but narrow room, towering in height but without a lot of room to maneuver.

Designed for only one purpose, built for function over form. Grey, supposedly unbreakable stone formed the walls, floor and ceiling. There were three evenly-spaced chairs facing the east wall, with a built in stone desk that came out from the wall. The desk had various dials and magical stones, all of which were humming. There was a door at either end, the one to his left for getting in and out of the room, the other a one way exit in case of emergencies. There had never been cause to use it, but safety was the watchword here. That’s why they had three hazard signs, and three floating lamps in each room of the facility. The signs spelled out: Magic Danger, Animal Danger, Explosion Danger. The lamps were three colors: Red, Yellow and Blue. Blue meant to get start the process, Yellow meant that a live controlled release was in progress, and Red meant hold onto your flanks, because something had gone seriously wrong.

He’d only seen two Reds in his entire time in his job. He never wanted to see a third.

But the main feature of the room, the purpose of its design, was what the stallion was staring at: the wall of screens.

They were thirty of them, six rows of five. Each screen was a thin layer of crackling, purple magic window shaped square. Each square was a one way audio/visual portal, allowing the viewer to see and hear what was going on in the cubes. And inside each cube was… an inhabitant. Or inhabitants.

Not every cube was the same size (the inhabitants being of wildly different sizes) but each portal took up an equal portion of the wall. All of portals were identical in size, no cube was more important than any other.

Well. Upstairs called them cubes. In reality they were cells. These were not free creatures. He knew that. So did everypony who worked on the project, if they were being honest. But orders were orders. And considering the source of the orders… who were they to question?

Besides, it had always worked out before. Sure, there were a few accidents, but everypony knew the risks. In theory.

He glanced at the counter on the wall above the entrance. A sign on the wall read:

They had been doing so well. True, the powers that be should have known better than to send the very close Berry twins into the cube of a silver tongued creature that fed on love. But at least they didn’t die. That thick-headed earth stallion they lost last year, well, that was his own fault. Never turn your back on Everfree creatures! That was just Safety 101.

He still felt bad about that pear-colored mare, though. Some fool had let her into Cube 117 two days ago without making her take Safety 102. There are some creatures, one is taught later on, that you DON’T look right in the eye…

His curiosity mildly piqued, he turned a dial in front of him, and the screens started to shift. There was one dark screen, 201, an empty cube that served as the blank spot. When you wanted to move a screen this way or that, it would slide into the blank spot, and the dark screen would shift to the side. After enough adjusting and tinkering, (the system was well designed but, dear Celestia, it was slow) Cube 117 moved into view.

He looked at the screen, and then tapped the stone on his right once. The screen floated out from the wall, and hovered in front of him. He tapped the stone again, and the screen expanded to about double the size, revealing the inner workings of Cube 117. It was a featureless empty room, like most of the others and in it, a rather sad looking chicken headed dragon creature. Its official name was “Cockatrice.” To him, it was an architect’s doodle that had mistakenly been sent into production, and this was the pathetic result.

Whatever interest he had in playing voyeur for this cube drained out of him as he stared at the Cockatrice. It flitted about, stalking invisible prey. He sighed and stared about the room, lacking the energy to turn the dial back and restore the window back to the wall.

The screens had limitations. He could see and hear the inhabitants, and they could not see or hear him. But that also meant he could not see what they saw. Each cube had enchanted walls, which kept the creatures sane and the keepers safe. The prisoners lived in their own little world, seeing and hearing whatever their subconscious would dredge up. Some saw the Everfree, some saw the kingdom they were meant to rule, and some saw the face of the pony that defeated them. Over and over and over again, the prisoners saw whatever their minds wanted to see. And if it wasn’t what they wanted to experience, at least it was what they needed to see to keep them fresh. And angry. They did not see the walls or, if the proper protocols were followed, the keepers who changed the food and water and cleaned the cells.

The only problem was, if the creature couldn’t speak, it usually made for a boring watch. Even if the Cockatrice was hunting something interesting, he couldn’t hear its cries for mercy or shrieks or any of the good stuff. On the other hand, if the captive could talk, you could at least piece together the scenario. And if they loved to talk, it could really make the shift fly by. The Queen in Cube 225 could have the most wonderful one-sided conversations when she was in the mood, with lots of “Yes! Beg for mercy! Let me taste your love!” and maniacal laughter. Unfortunately, he confirmed with a quick glance above his head to the right, she was currently sleeping.

A door opened behind him, and his counterpart walked, rubbing her eyes. She was a white unicorn in a white lab coat, with a pink mane and tired but smiling face. A light pink aura surrounded the two coffee cups that floated in front of her as she walked over to his station.

“Good Morning, Mr. Field.”

Mr. Field nodded at her, then closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “Ms. Fly.”

Firefly stopped and frowned at him. Mr. Field (he refused to tell her his first name) was a forest green unicorn with a brown mane, and he was on the project from the beginning. She joined up a year later, which meant he had a year’s more experience than her. He rarely missed a chance to remind her of that, and the fact that as he was the senior meant that while they wore the same coat, it was her duty to get the coffee every time they shared a shift. Firefly said as she floated the coffee cup over to him, “Mr. Field, we’ve been over this. Please just call me Firefly.”

“Just as you say, Ms. Fly,” he rumbled, eyes still closed and holding out his hoof. She sighed and floated the cup into his grasp. He smiled, lifting the cup to his mouth and taking a nice long sip.

“We’ve been working together for a year now. I don’t see how it’s fair that I still don’t know your EEEEK!” she screamed, dropping her coffee cup.

Field opened his eyes, mouth full of coffee, and saw what she saw: the entire screen filled with a giant eye, staring right into the portal.

PBBBBTTTTTTTTT

He spewed coffee all over the screen, which, as it was a magic field, went right through and splashed onto the wall. The main door to the room was kicked open, and an earth pony in a black uniform rushed in, shouting, “What? What’s going on?”

The two lab-coated ponies turned to face him, then each other, then the purple magic field. The Cockatrice had backed up, still staring at the portal, no longer the creature of nightmares and spit takes. Now it just looked like another small dragon with a chicken for a head. Field grunted, quickly hit the glowing rock that muted all sound, and floated his handkerchief out of his coat pocket magically.

A silence filled the room as Field started wiping his desk area. The guard pony looked between the two and barked, “Well? I heard a scream. What’s wrong?”

Firefly looked at Field, who was refusing to answer. Finally she mumbled, “There was a sudden movement on the… I just got a little freaked, that’s all.”

“And managed to cause a spill, can you clean that up please, Ms. Fly?” said Field.

Firefly gave him a Look, then used her magic to float the spilled coffee cup off the ground. She looked around in vain for something to clean up the spill, then turned to the guard pony, “I’m terribly sorry Mr…?”

“Steady, ma’m. Rock Steady. Security.”

Field rolled his eyes, “Really? I thought you were in Dark Magic.”

Firefly shot him another Look, then turned back to the guard, “Mr. Steady, thank you for being so vigilant. Could I trouble you to get us some napkins?”

Rock Steady blinked at Firefly. “Napkins?”

“I want to clean this mess up, but we’re never supposed to have less than two ponies at the monitors. Rules from up top.”

“Yes, which is interesting, since I’m pretty sure it was just me when you went and got the coffee…” said Field.

Rock Steady glared at Field. “Please?” said Firefly, quietly hoping the guard would just leave, as she was embarrassed enough. “I would really appreciate it.”

The guard pony turned back to Firefly, glanced at Field one last time, and made a decision. “I’d be delighted, Ms-”

“Firefly. Please just call me Firefly.”

Rock Steady smiled, she smiled back, and then he left, closing the door behind him.

She immediately turned on Field and snarled, “You bastard. ”

He snickered, fiddling with the controls. “He liiiiikkkeesss you.”

“Buck you.” Firefly spat back.

Field shrugged as he peered closer at the Cockatrice’s portal. “Whatever works, Ms. Fly.”

Firefly grumbled, “It’s a real rule you know.” Field didn’t respond. She looked at him, “About never having less than two ponies in this room.”

“Take a look at this.” Field said, adjusting the dials to change the angle in the Cockatrice’s room.

“I’m just saying, I know it’s my job to get the coffee, but if they catch us understaffed, we’ll both-”

“Shut up and look at this.” Said Field. He kept changing the angle of the portal in the Cockatrice’s cell, and the Cockatrice kept moving to keep up. It was no longer up close and personal, but it was definitely staring the portal down.

Firefly frowned. “It shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Oh really?” said Field laconically, “I thought it was perfectly normal for our guests to realize they’re being spied on all day, every day.”

Firefly sighed and sat down in the chair to the right of Field, clicking on dials of her own. “I'll get Operations to switch her to a new cell..."

"Hang on, hang on. We have to trot before we can crawl."

Firefly blinked. "What?"

"I'll keep an eye on the chicken lizard." He waved his hoof at her. "You bring up somepony else, see if it’s a local problem or a system wide bug. I don't care which.”

She shrugged, switched around the screens, eventually settling on Cube 215, the two pale yellow huckster stallions. The one with a moustache was pacing, the one without was sitting on the ground, flipping a bit in the air and observing the results. Their straw hats were on the ground of their cube, one overflowing with bits, the other barely filled with a very depleted stack. They were clearly talking, but no sound was coming out.

“Okay, well I care that you picked them." He grumbled. "I still don’t see how those two are in the same roster as the Queen.”

“Sssh. I’m having trouble hearing them.” Firefly kept turning up the volume, but there was no sound.

Field stared at the screen. The non moustached brother kept flipping the coin, saying something, looking at the result and then taking a coin from the nearly depleted hat and putting in his own. But it was impossible to tell from the image what was going on.

Firefly sighed. “Why isn’t this working?

The stallion glanced at his partner, and casually asked, “Did you check if the mute was on?”

“What? The mute button? Why in Equestria would the mute button be on?”

“Because I left it on after guardpony burst in here.” Field said with a smirk.

Firefly glared at him. “Why haven't you turned it off?”

"Because you did not say the magic word."

She was tryng to stay annoyed, but she knew this routine. It always worked, and even though Field was being snotty today, she couldn't resist a smile coming on. "What is. The magic word."

Field shrugged. "'Please.'"

Firefly threw her head back and dramatically sang out, "Would you PLEASE turn the mute off, Mr. Field, I would be ever so greatful."

“Surely,” he said, pressing down on the green stone in front of him.

“Heads.” said the non moustached brother as he flipped a coin. He said it in a normal tone of voice in his room, but to the two technicians it was like a giant bearing down on them. Then the coin hit the ground, and it was the same as if an entire brass band had collapsed on the ground.

“Gah! Turn it down, turn it down!” shouted Field.

“It’s got to mean more than just you winning my money …” said the moustached brother, his voice returning to a regular volume as Firefly turned her knob down.

Both ponies focused on the screen. The non-moustached brother took a bit out of the small pile hat and put it the other hat, presumably his own, and then took the coin in his hoof again. He flipped the coin.

“Heads.”

“Which one is which again?” asked Field in monotone, tapping his hoof on the ground.

“Flam is the one with the moustache. Flim is the one taking all of his money.”

On the screen, Flam (the moustached one) turned to Flim and said, “What’s the first thing you remember?”

Flim stopped flipping his coin and stared at his brother. “The first thing that comes into my head, you mean?

“We were leaving… we were exiting Ponyville, right?” asked Flam.

“Sure, we had that little disagreement about cider quality vis a vie Sweet Apple Acres,” said Flim, winning another coin from the losing hat. “Then we were on to the next town, but our cart broke down. We’re waiting on that replacement axle, remember? That was only yesterday!”

“That can’t have been yesterday. It was six yesterdays ago, at least. Maybe more.”

Flim snorted, readying the coin, “I think I remember what happened yesterday, and I’m certain it was yesterday.”

Flam shuddered, “Are you sure my yesterday and your yesterday are the same day?”

“Well, it can’t be any other day. That’d just be silly. Heads.” Flim flipped the coin, and Flam caught it. He kept it between his two hooves, refusing to look at it, closing his eyes tightly.

“How long have we been playing coins?” asked Flam.

Flim blinked. “As long as I can remember, brother.”

“And how long is that ?”

There was a pause.

“I can’t remember.”

Flam opened his eyes and stared at his brother. He opened his hooves and then presented the coin.

Neither pony said anything, so Firefly moved the angle on the monitor to the other wall. She squinted at the screen. The coin was heads.

“Tell you what, let’s start again, whaddaya say?” Flam shrugged as Flim took his hat and poured half of its contents back into the other hat. “There we go, fifty-fifty. Let’s begin again, I’m sure that axle will get dropped off any moment now.”

Flam nodded sadly, laying on the ground next to his brother.

“Now,” said Flim as held up the bit, “Heads or tails?”

Field sighed, “And the cycle begins again. Shut it off.”

“Don’t you find it interesting? How they almost figure it out?” asked Firefly, as she muted the Flim Flam brothers and sent them back to the board.

“No, because the whole point is that they don’t figure it out, which means we’re doing our job.” He clicked his tongue. "Also, they're boring as all get out."

Firefly rolled her eyes. “Well, yes. I meant.” She hesitated. “Never mind. The point is, they didn’t see the moving monitor. It’s not a system wide bug.”

“And that’s why you’re still the junior, Ms. Fly. Just because Click and Clack-”

“Flim and Flam.” Firefly deadpanned.

“Just because they are too stupid to figure it out, doesn’t mean it’s still not a problem. Bring up 301.”

Firefly silently obeyed, switching over the blank screen until 301 was highlighted, and came hovering out in front of them. “301. Sombra.” The black unicorn lay on the ground in the middle of the room. His armor was gone but he still had his red and white regal coat, which was in tatters.

“The once and future King of the Crystal Empire!” said Field, grinning, “Look at him now.”

Field turned on the sound, but all they could hear was him breathing heavily and growling. Sombra was not moving or talking, though his eyes were open and alert. He looked left and right, occasionally scraping his hoof against the ground.

“He looks like a lazy bear." Field shifted his weight in his chair. "Or a loud rug.”

Firefly shook her head, “He came back to us in crystal pieces. It took Dark Magic seven days to put him back together. I’m surprised he’s breathing at all.”

“Breathing, but, sadly, also boring. Change the point of view, let’s get this over with.”

Firefly adjusted her stones, and the portal viewpoint changed. “One day,” snarled Sombra, causing both the tech ponies to jump. They waited, and finally Sombra continued, “One day, we will be free, my subjects. And then we will let Celestia know how the Crystal Empire gets its revenge.” There was a pause. He then extended his hoof to his invisible subjects. “Soon...”

“See? Do you see this?” said Field. “He can imagine anything in the world, and where is he stuck? Not in his moment of triumph, not in an alternate universe where he wins. Not even on the ponies who actually defeated him, but in his idiotic Crystal Empire forbidden zone. I’m telling you, lazy bear.”

Firefly rubbed her eyes. “Which means he’s not detecting the change in the field. Are we done now?”

He looked up again at 225, and sighed. “It’s shame she’s still asleep.”

Firefly followed his gaze. “Chrysalis?”

“She is a work of art, isn’t she?”

The Changeling Queen slept in the corner, surrounded by two or three of her subjects who were also sleeping. There was a cocooned bunny next to her, barely alive, eyes glazed over. The rabbit would only last for one more meal.

Firefly grimaced. “You saw what she did to those Berry sisters, right?”

Field glanced at her and shook his head. “You gotta have the right sense of humor for this work, ya know? So Crick and Crunk are lame, but Cube 225 can suck the love right out of you until you’re dried up shell. Cube 115 has four heads, one for each of your limbs. And I know some of the 0 series is old, and most of them are just annoying, but some of them… Take 006. Now I can’t say I’ve actually seen 006 in action—whatshisname, Torac I think it is—but if his creature department is even half right? This guy can bring eternal darkness. If you can’t get into that groove, I can’t help you.”

Firefly magically floated a binder up from underneath her chair, and flipped through its pages, “006, 006… I think you mean Tirek?”

“Tirek, Torac, Ti-however you spell it he brings eternal darkness . Just because he feels like it. C’mon, Firefly. Think about that kind of power.”

Firefly looked at 006’s monitor and suppressed a shudder. They kept Tirek in darkness. When they tried keeping him in light, things didn’t go well. On the other hoof, Mr. Field did just use her actual name. She then glanced at Chrysalis again, and an evil little thought entered her brain.

“So you really dig the Queen, eh?”

“Chrysalis? Oh yes. I love watching her work.”

Firefly then leaned very close to Field’s head. “Then she’d make a quick meal of you.” said Firefly sweetly. She started making a sucking sound, poking him in the head with the straw.

“Shut it.”

“I’m just getting into my groove!”

Field was frowning, but it was a front. Firefly knew she was slowly dragging him out of his mood. He was grinning as he turned away and replaced 301 back to the board.

The door opened, letting in bright light from the hallway. Both the tech ponies squinted into the light, and eventually the outline of the guardpony appeared.

“I had to go to like, six different bathrooms to get these napkins. Who is running this place?” Rock Steady complained, shutting the door behind him.

“’Ours is not to question who or why, ours is to keep the system running or die. We do the work that we must for ponies to be free, one big happy family here at G-Three.” Field rhymed.

“Do what now?” asked Steady.

“What he’s trying to say is, ‘Thank you’, Mr. Steady.” Firefly said with a smile.

Rock Steady smiled at Firefly, mollified, and brought the napkins over.

Field eyed the napkin exchange with a glint of amusement. “Sure. That’s what I’m saying.” Field clicked his tongue, then turned to the wall. “Mr. Steady. Pick your poison.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We are conducting an experiment and need a control. We need a completely unbiased—” he hesitated, then chose his next word carefully, “—neutral pick. We’ve already done 117, 215, our Queen here in 225, and 301. Assume they are off the board. Otherwise, go nuts.”

Steady glanced at the back of Field’s head, then at Firefly. She gave him an encouraging nod. He looked back at the board. “What about the blank square?”

Field cleared his throat. “That’s 201, Mr. Discord. He’s currently a stone statue in Celestia’s garden. They've got... plans for him upstairs."

"That is such horsefeathers." grumbled Firefly.

"In any event, we keep his cube open just in case that plan changes. Assume 201 is also off the board.”

Steady opened his mouth to ask another question, then thought better of it. After a few moments of staring at the different panels, he said, “The Griffin.”

“We have a winner! Cube 105…” Field started switching the screens, and brought the portal into view, “Which is the home of Ms. Gilda the Griffin.”

They all stared at Gilda, a brown and white griffin with graying feathers and a crazed expression. She was pacing back and forth shaking her head. Firefly turned up the volume. “Lame-os… you’re all lame-os… I’m not playing this stupid game, I’m just not doing it.” There was a pause, then she screamed “Because I know you’re NOT REAL!”

“Whoa.” Firefly said. "You'd think she'd have slowed down by now."

“A shame, really. She used to be more fun before she got out that one time. She used to have conversations with an invisible Pegasus for hours. Some of them got pretty steamy.”

“What do you mean, ‘she got out that one time’?” asked Rock Steady.

Field nodded, “Yes, an unfortunate result of your department not doing its job. But this was a year ago, probably before you started. No offense. Ms. Fly, can you adjust the portal angles?”

Rock Steady huffed and turned away as Firefly started moving the angle of the portal around the room. Gilda kept pacing back and forth as the image shifted.

Steady glanced back at the screen as Gilda paced. “Why did you want me to pick one of them, anyway?”

Firefly was staring at her creature after she adjusted the controls. “The portal is busted in 117, and the Cockatrice can spot the portal changing its point of view. We were testing to see whether or not it was system wide or not. And Field here insists on checking everything three times.”

Field shrugged. “It’s called doing more than the minimum; I’d recommend you try it. Does wonders for a pony's self worth.”

Steady was staring at the screen, “So we’d want to be on watch to see if there was any obvious change in the inmate when the screens shift.”

Field raised his eyebrows. "I'm impressed. Here," he reached into the jar next to his chair, "Have a cookie.”

“Because she definitely reacted.”

The two unicorns stopped and immediately stared at the screen.

Gilda was standing still, her back turned to the portal, with her head tilted just slightly to her left. After a moment, she quickly began pacing again, “Lame-os! Dweebs! Leave me ALONE!”

Firefly shrugged, “Sounds like she was just catching her breath.”

Field clicked his tongue. “When did she react? How?”

“Right when Ms. Fly moved the portal. She stopped pacing, glanced at us as it moved, and then was standing still.”

“Jerks!” shouted Gilda.

“And now she’s back to her routine.” Steady said.

Firefly leaned back in her chair, stretching. “I think she’s fine.” Field glared at the screen. There was a moment where they could hear nothing but the hum of the screens, as Gilda was still pacing but had gone silent on her ranting.

Rock Steady shook his head. "She's performing for you, trying to cover her tracks. I swear it."

“Why did you pick her?” asked Field. “Gilda, I mean.”

Steady tilted his head a bit at the scientist. “I don’t trust her.”

“’Trust’ her? What? Did she borrow a book and not give it back?”

Steady shook his head. “You were wrong on your timing. I was brought on before her escape attempt. For the first few months I worked here, she gave both us and the wranglers a lot of trouble every day. Kept attacking whenever the door opened. We kept changing the schedule of when we’d feed her, but it wouldn’t matter. She’d figure out the pattern.” The guardpony got closer to the screen, staring at his quarry. “She’d remember.”

Firefly shrugged. "So? Most of these things have a brain, even if we've got the upper hoof in terms of mind control."

"That's just it, though." Steady then turned to them “Suddenly, one day, for no reason she stops.”

Firefly looked at Gilda again, who was still pacing and seething. “Stopped being crazy?”

“Oh, Celestia, no. But she stopped trying for the door every time it opened, and stopped attacking the wranglers. We don’t know why. But we do know she was trying to get messages to other cubes.”

Field sat upright at that. “What?”

“Little magical letters that she tried to slip in-between cubes. Yeah, one actually got through, too. Very odd.”

Field glowered at Rock Steady. “And… no one in your department thought you should tell the ponies running the show?”

Steady didn’t flinch, looking right at his accuser. “We did. We told upstairs. They didn’t care. I didn't make any sense anyway, what is Cube 117 going to do with a message from a Griffin?”

All three turned to look at the Cockatrice, which was no longer staring at the portal and was now coiled in the center of the room, resting.

"There were no other messages?"

Steady shrugged. "Not that we're aware of. Although it took five ponies to get that envelope out of 117." He shivered as he watched the cockatrice sleep. “They should all be destroyed.”

Field waved his hoof at the wall, “We get rid of all of them, and you’re out of a job.”

“Oh, not all of them. Just the-” Steady closed his eyes and pointed at the cockatrice’s screen, “-just those. They give me the jibbilies.”

“The what?” asked Field.

“You know,” said Steady, who dared to glance at the cockatrice, and shuddered again, “The jibbilie-jibbilies.”

“And you’re the one assigned to guard us from the terror of Equestria,” snorted Field, “We’ve got … Quarray eels and timber wolves in these things. A little chicken dragon thing scares you?”

Rock Steady glared at Field, “I respect any creature whose primary aim is to rip you to pieces. I can deal with that. But that thing-” he pointed again at the Cockatrice, “- I mean, turned to stone? While you’re still awake? It’s just too horrible to contemplate.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” said Firefly, flicking her dials and putting the cockatrice screen back into its spot on the board. “Even though we've used 50% of what's available so far, odds are still about 3-to-1 against a repeat.”

“A repeat?” asked Steady.

“Meaning they pick somepony- or something- that the elements have faced before. We haven’t had a repeat since G-Three started.” said Firefly.

“Never say never, Ms. Fly.” Field grinned. “I’m telling you, the blue unicorn is due.”

Firefly rolled her eyes, and looked at Steady. “He says that every time since Trixie debuted. And every time since then he bets wrong.”

"What do you mean, 'bet'?"

Field groaned. "Who is this? Where does it go? What does it all mean? Questions, questions, questions with you! When did you start, anyway?"

"Look, I was brought on right before the Crystal Empire. It was all remote, from snowy caves and, well, it wasn't here." Steady waved his hooves in exasperation "They don't tell us much other than stand there and guard the door!"

Firefly put a hoof on Steady's shoulder. "I know, it's... it can be a lot. Don't mind Field, he's just naturally grumpy.“

Steady blushed at the contact. "Er. Anyway, I got hired in the wave after things went south with the changelings.”

There was a loud bang, as Field slammed his hoof into the desk. “You listen to me. Things did not ‘go south’ or whatever euphemism you want to use. We had that situation completely under control. It’s not our fault the powers that be got scared and pushed the panic button.”

There was a tense silence. Steady coughed and said as politely as he could manage, “Well, if they didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

Field grumbled, “Now I have to wear this stupid badge everywhere I go. I have to sign in three times just to get my stupid chair.”

Firefly looked at Field and deadpanned, “A changeling impersonated the chief wrangler and got two levels away from this very room. How do you call that ‘under control’?”

“Don’t you start with me.” Field sank into his chair. "Tell operations to put 117 in a new cell. And 105. I don't feel like causing a new mini-crisis today."

"What's the magic word?"

"Buck yourself."

Steady grunted. "Nice, buddy."

Suddenly there was an alarm, and the blue lantern started flashing. Rock Steady straightened up, and said, “Live event?”

Field stood up, stretched, and replied “Game time.”

Firefly shook her head at her colleague, and turned towards Rock Steady, “You should return to your post.”

"Nah, let him stay." Field picked up a ruby from the desk and focused his magic into it. "Somepony needs to tell him more than just 'stand here, guard this.'"

The ruby glowed with a bright, blood-colored light. His eyes glowed, and suddenly his voice boomed throughout the room.

“Attention all stations, attention all stations. This is Control. We are a blue for go, I repeat, we have a blue light.” Steady stared in alarm at Field, who was not moving his mouth, and yet it was clearly his voice booming throughout the facility. The voice continued: “We need all stations ready to go in thirty minutes. Report to the control room when ready. Control out.”

Firefly coughed, “Aren’t you forgetting something, Field?”

Field stared at Firefly, then mouthed 'Ah.' He stared at the ruby again, and once it was as bright red as his eyes, his voice said:

“Bring bits.”

Firefly snorted in spite of herself. Rock Steady looked at both of them, bewildered. “’Bring bits’?”

“We’re professionals,” said Field, “Not stiffs.”

Author's Notes:

This song was on repeat a LOT while I wrote this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDEwl4r9-6k