"Mmmff..."

Scootaloo awoke slowly. The first thing she noticed as she regained consciousness was the bittersweet aftertaste of a dream, a dream of a memory that at this point was becoming all too familiar, night after night. She already felt so removed and so far away from that day and, in some respects, she was. Physically, she was already so distant... and yet it hadn't even been that long ago.

The second thing she noticed, which distracted her from this train of thought, was a throbbing headache. It felt like somepony had taken her head in between their hooves and was squeezing as hard as they could. Wincing, she managed to crack open her eyelids; maybe she could get some clue of what was going on from her surroundings. Her memory was hazy at best.

But, as soon as she opened her eyes, she squeezed them back shut. Wherever she was, it was bright, and the sudden wash of light on her sleep-ridden eyes just made her head throb even harder. She let out a sigh.

"Keep it down over there, why don't ya?" hissed an unfamiliar raspy voice from somewhere indeterminate off to the right.

"Oh, don't give her a hard time, Grey. She just got here, and she's only a filly." This voice was no more familiar than the last but was a good deal more friendly-sounding, at least. And it sounded closer.

"Meh, whatever. Just keep it down."

Confused, Scootaloo blinked her eyes open and closed several time to acclimate her vision to the bright light of the room. However, upon clearing her vision, she found herself no less confused. In fact, she was more confused than ever.

Instead of the ship or even somewhere outside in the forest they'd landed in, Scootaloo instead found herself leaned against a metal wall, in a room composed of two more metal walls to the sides, a metal ceiling, and a metal floor. Above her, the source of her difficulty adjusting to the light, were several panes that emitted harsh, fluorescent light. In the front, instead of a wall, were thick metal bars. She turned her head, but the only things in the room to keep it from being just an empty metal box were a small bed with what looked to be a thin mattress pad, and a bucket. Scootaloo cast one more glance around the room and then she stood.

"Hey there, you 'wake?" It was the friendly voice that spoke, and this time she could see its point of origin—the shape of a pony in a cell that looked very similar to her own, although it was across a two-metre hall. Scootaloo stepped forward to get a closer look.

As the pony came into view, it was evident that the pony across from her was an adult mare with a muted pink coat and a cream-coloured mane, sitting in the middle of her own cell. The symbol of three balls coloured red, green, and white was clearly visible on the mare's flank, each one looking slightly flattened. Scootaloo momentarily tried to remember whether Kevin had had one; after some thought, she decided that he probably didn't if she hadn't noticed.

"Can ya not talk?" the pony asked. Scootaloo realised that she hadn't answered the question from before.

"Um, yeah, hi," Scootaloo said. Her voice was scratchy.

"Oh, hello!" The mare's face seemed to light up at the sound of Scootaloo's voice, and her face pressed against the bars on the other side of the hall. "How're you doing?"

"Fine, I guess. But, um... where are we?"

Another voice, the other one she'd heard from before, made a scoffing noise. "Doesn't even know where we are," the masculine voice grumbled. "How thick can ya be?"

"Oh, shut up, you old coot!" the mare shouted, facing her left. She turned back to Scootaloo. "I'm really sorry about Grey. He never gets any better, unfortunately."

"I can hear ya!!"

"That don't change a thing, and you know it!"

Scootaloo could see a dark form in that cell to the left of the mare's. Unlike both of their cells, this one didn't appear to have the strips of fluorescent lighting on its ceiling. The only light was that which seeped in from one of the other rooms; that made it easy for its inhabitant to remain unseen. "How come he—?"

"He don't like the light much, if that's what you're askin'. Grumpiest bucket of hayseed that I ever had the chance of meeting." The mare paused, staring blankly ahead. "Now, what were you asking about 'fore that?"

"Where are we?"

The mare laughed. It wasn't a loud, hearty laugh or an uncontrollable giggle—no, this laugh was much more weary. "Filly, I dunno how you found yourself here without knowin' where here is, but you're in the South Pen."

"The South Pen?"

The mare shot her a funny look. "You not from 'round these parts? Y'know, the South Pen. Big ol' prison place where they throw the bad guys and that sort."

"Oh, yeah, I knew that," Scootaloo lied. "Can't remember how I got here, though..."

"Hmm... maybe them ponies threw you in there to hard. A pony in here ain't likely to forget what they've done 'less they throw you in so hard that you bump your head and get amnesia. Back a few years ago, there was a whole kerfuffle 'cause it was happening a lot and they cracked down on the rules or something. I dunno. It was a while back."

Scootaloo nodded. "Who are you, then? What are you in for?"

The mare grinned. "I'm Mochi, darlin'. Ponies 'round the whole city used to know me for those little scrumptious balls I'd make. Y'know, these ones." She gestured with a foreleg to her cutie mark. "Mare, what I wouldn't give to make these for ponies. Haven't in years."

Scootaloo gasped "In years? How come?"

"Well, I've been in here, haven't I?" She laughed again with that same weary laugh. "Now's not really the time for that story. Don't wanna use up my best story on the first day!"

"Celestia, I had better not be in here for that long," Scootaloo mumbled to nopony in particular under her breath. Mochi didn't seem to have heard her.

"So, what's your name and story, young'n? What's a cute little filly like you doin' in a hell like this?"

"Well, I don't really know," Scootaloo said. "It's as I told you—one moment I was flying on a ship with... a friend, and next thing I know I wake up here. My name's Scootaloo, by the way."

"Huh, interesting name. I've never heard anything quite like that before. You not from 'round these parts, are ya?"

"Eheh... you could say that."

"Well, Scootaloo, I'd love to talk to you s'more but I'm pretty darn tired. Been up all night counting all the mochi I can remember making! Or was it all day... hee hee!" She let out a giggle-snort that was oddly Pinkie-esque.

"Goodnight," Scootaloo said. As Mochi retreated to the back part of her room and onto her bed, Scootaloo decided that would be the most opportune thing for her to do as well. Her hooves clanged as she made her way across the metal box.

The whole thing was so utterly cruel, when she thought about it. She and Kevin had just gotten to this planet with the hopes and promises that they'd finally be free of that metal prison of a ship; even though it had become her home, she had yearned for the open freeness of the natural world. And now she was trapped in an even smaller metal box with no easily apparent hope of escape. It was even worse.

But someone's gonna have to come eventually, Scootaloo thought to herself as she climbed onto the stiff mattress pad to lie down. It wasn't actually that much worse than her bunk on the ship. They're going to come to give you food or let you outside or tell you what you did wrong and maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to escape.

That was all she could tell herself, because otherwise she would be hopeless.