In an attempt to keep this from getting any more awkward, Gearing uses a light and a couple tools trying to remove the object from the recess, but nothing seems to work. Both pieces are securely held to the sides and his attempts are proven worthless. It refuses to cough it up. Not even half of it. Gearing grumbles to himself, “Maybe if I could use some fucking magic I could get this fucking thing out.” He tosses the screwdriver to the side in frustration as he snorts, “Fucking unicorns… Fucking magic.”

Fucking unicorns would be fucking magic! the little voice in his head taunts.

He props himself up and looks at the wall with apprehension. This was a horrible idea to begin with. Though, there were some decent rewards out of it. There had to be some point where this joke of a system finally ends. Right? He’s going to try and postpone the shame and humiliation for as long as possible. He just had to get through this part and it’ll be over. Just one more act and it’ll be over. Then, it shall never be spoken of. Ever. Best to just get it over with.

So he sinks in to the hilt.

And the voice in his head starts laughing maniacally.

He takes in a deep breath, and starts banging his head on the wall. “Yup, figures.” He looks up at the ceiling and groans. “You all really hate me, don’t you?” Hey, Celestia, could you at least give me a reach around while you’re back there shoving your horn up my ass? he thinks bitterly.

He’s locked into the wall. Completely flush, as far as he can, midrutt. The system caught him, and stopped him, pulling him in as far as it possibly could. He can feel pressure up the entire length, and grinds his head into the wall as he wonders if this is how he’s going to die. A moment later, he’s allowed a slight reprieve with the mechanisms providing a bit of slack.

He shivers and shakes as his hind legs aren’t having the best of days in this awkward semi-flexed position. But, on top of that, he can feel the mechanisms moving. He can’t really tell what they are doing, but they’re definitely moving. Around and almost in a pulsing motion. He tries to pull himself out, only managing to get a bit of slack before ending up sheath deep again.

“Well, this is a problem...” Gearing mutters. “What am I gonna do now?”

The little dark blue pony in his head opens the box just enough to sing towards him gleefully, All in aaaalll it’s just another DICK innnn the waaaaaalllll.

Gearing slams his head against the wall and Handy asks, “What’s going on?”

Gearing turns his head and snaps at the pipbuck, with his ears whistling louder by the second, “I’m trying to get the damn thing out like you asked! Give me a fucking break here. It’s really jammed in there.”

“Sorry… You don’t have to bite my head off about it…”

Gearing looks down at himself and wonders if his own head is going to get bit off. A moment later his eyes and ears go wide as the speaker nearby declares, “Access request in progress,” in the voice of the Stable-Tec AI mare.

“Sounds like you’re making progress,” Handy comments. Then a moment later he says apologetically, “I’ll just shut up…”

Gearing starts trying to rock side to side, but finds that each time he seems to rock back and forth the further he can slide, but still can’t seem to get free entirely. The AI’s voice comes out of the speaker next to him, “Inadequate levels detected. Capacitors need to be fully charged before release.”

Gearing looks at the speaker and slowly tilts his head. The tone strikes a chord with him. The phrasing too. He gives it a few looks, then stares down at himself.

Tick. Tick. CLICK!

“Fuck it.” And he pulls back and bucks into the wall again, hard. Having no other idea to go on, and seemingly finding some sort of progress through accidentally moving around and hitting whatever is supposed to be accessed, he does the only thing he can think of.

He goes at it for all he’s worth.

The metal grinding of his forelegs on the wall and the weird clicking sound coming from the access panel increase in volume. He has no idea what he’s doing, but even a broken clock is right twice a day. He wonders if this is some sort of strange lock. One that might be able to be picked by randomly jiggling the tools in until the tumblers all slide into place. But, no. This didn’t allow him to do the same with the actual tools he tried. It didn’t work at all. He grunts as he feels like he’s pulled even deeper into the mechanism and various clamps take position along his entire shaft. His eyes grow in size as a thought crosses his mind.

It’s like it knows. How can a lock KNOW?

He begins to worry when the robotic mare’s voice chimes happily, “Capacitors at 60% and rising.” A moment later it says excitedly, “Continued work is appreciated. Thank you for your dedication.”

He looks at the speaker again as his eyebrow rises. He starts feeling weird. Dirty almost. He can’t quite put a feather on it. But this is starting to get worrying. He picks up speed hoping to get this over with as fast as possible.

“Subject Gearing!” the voice says overtly. “You’ve increased charge rate! Please continue!” A moment later the voice comes across a bit softer almost in a whisper. “Faster, please.”

He tilts his head and looks at the speaker straight on as he continues rutting the wall. Oh, this is messed up. He realizes exactly why he was feeling dirty. There’d been a mare that he had an agreement with at one of the Ministry of Arcane Sciences hubs. They weren’t exactly an item, but he had a standing invitation, an order really, to let her know whenever he was in town. And each time it always lead to a night of rutting that had cost the lives of a few of her bed frames. She would praise him for his durability, and endurance, and sing his praises as she went as rough as she wanted with him. They scratched a mutual itch, or so he thought, for a long time. But, eventually, he got an urge for more, and wanted to do more than her with her.

They’d never even gone to a cinema together.

It ended quite abruptly when he found out that, unlike what he thought, and how he thought of her, she was only with him for sex. And, not even in a mutual aspect. She saw him as her personal sex toy, and that’s all she wanted him for. And while that was bad enough, it wasn’t the worst of it.

She had a robot fetish. And that’s all she saw him as.

The voice gets louder as it counts down, “C- capacity is at 96… 97… So close, Subject Gearing! 98… Just a bit… Moooore.” The lights in the R&D department flicker as there’s a power surge through the section. The mechanisms holding him spasm as the power sputters. Then there is a lull before a familiar pressure is applied and the mechanisms seem to relax enough to let him slide out.

The robotic mare’s voice practically purrs from the speakers around him, “Thank you for your participation, Subject Gearing. Catalyst port has been calibrated for optimum charging of capacitors.” There is a slight pause, barely noticeable, but it’s there, before the voice continues, “I look forward to our next exchange.” There is a slightly sing songy hum coming from the speakers, like a weird giggle, before the room returns to normal and the speakers cut off entirely.

He looks down at himself and sees the ring attached to himself again. Though, it looks slightly different. And that’s not just the apparent extra grease that’s coating both it and himself.

Gearing looks around, his ears whistling, before he says, “I got it out… I have it.”

Handy’s voice comes across in a forced cough. Gearing can only imagine how it sounded. Though, probably the most humorous aspect of it was that Handy was probably hearing every bit of it, and thinking how funny it sounded, and how totally wrong and off target the sound was to reality. Like one of those comical misunderstandings where someone hears something and jumps to a conclusion without proper context. Simply the results of a pervert’s mind corrupting something innocent.

Except this time, he’d be right spot on.

“I’m sending Sarge down. He’ll be there in a minute,” Handy says flatly.

Gearing sits down and sighs. “Okay. Sure. I’ll just wait here for him to get here for it.” He starts looking it over trying to see how he might be able to get it off and hopefully hand it over without any further explanations.

A few moments later Sarge trots in from the decontamination chamber and walks up to him. Gearing looks up at Sarge and lays his whistling ears back as he drops his jaw in horror. He’d hoped he’d have a bit more time to figure out how to get this blasted thing off. Gearing looks around sheepishly, and tries to avoid the cold stare of Sarge, who, oddly enough, hasn’t said anything.

Gearing motions towards the ring with a hoof and coughs. “Yeaaahhh… this is it. Right here.”

Handy’s voice comes over the pipbuck, “Sarge, do you see it?”

“Yeah, I see it, muckraker,” Sarge replies flatly.

“Sarge, smash the damn thing!” Handy practically growls.

For those playing the home game, and not keeping track up to this point, you may need the following reminder: It’s still stuck on the metal pegasus’s little pegasus.

Gearing’s eyes shoot to their fullest as Sarge rears up on his hind legs. “Gladly! I’ll smash that little fucker! Ahahahaha!!!”

Gearing hops back and uses his wings to flap away to near a wall. “No! Wait! Stop!”

Handy’s voice comes across the pipbuck annoyed, “It’s gotta be destroyed!”

Gearing jumps and tumbles away, he lands on his hooves and prepares to spring away, but a bit of wayward grease causes him to slip and fall, but ending up tail over mane and looking back at Sarge charging him with an upside down perspective. Gearing bucks the wall nearby, sending him sliding and skidding with sparks in a different direction as he manages to avoid being part of the dented floor that Sarge makes with a powerful hoof smash.

A restraining cable shoots out from Sarge and wraps around Gearing’s leg, catching him as he tries to run away, and starts retracting the cable like a winch. Though the maneuver is far less effective than Sarge would normally be able to achieve, given Gearing’s excessive weight. Gearing’s screams increase in volume and, he eventually kicks the ground and uses a rolling maneuver as he performs a fast revolution around Sarge, tangling the protectapony’s legs up with his own restraining cables. Gearing hops onto Sarges back, and loops part of the spare cable around the top of Sarge’s head like a tiara.

Gearing unwraps himself, using his pure terror fueled, and weight reinforced, strength to get the cable off of him. He’s held out long enough. There’s no other choice but to face the music. However, that’s not really at the foreground of his thoughts, as he screams out in panic, “Get off my dick!”

He spins around and bucks Sarge in the back of the knee joints causing him to buckle, before he springs away onto a console nearby, trying to stay out of reach, and grabbing a nearby broom with his wing to ward off any other restraining cables that might get launched at his position.

“Stop! Handy! Make it stop!” Gearing yells as he starts wildly swinging the broom around.

Sarge’s head twists and shakes, then spins around, releasing the cable, and slowly untangling himself. “Oohhhh You’ve done it now, ya zebra lover! I’m going to squish you! Damn this combat inhibitor, or I’d burn you!”

“Stand down!” Handy’s voice yells out. “Both of you, stop!”

Sarge didn’t stop moving at the first command, but freezes solid on the second. Sarge freezes, then loses tension as he returns to a neutral stance. “Damn muckraker ruining my fun! I was going to kick his tin can candy ass!”

“Gearing, what’s going on?” Handy asks with more than a little bit of concern on his voice.

“Handy, that damn robot was going to destroy it while it was still on me!” Gearing yells at the pipbuck. “Be more specific with your damn commands, or at least warn somebody first!”

There’s a momentary pause as Handy takes in a breath. “Gearing, start at the beginning. What do you mean ‘on you’?”

Gearing looks down at the ground and his ears start whistling again as he tries to quickly think of some way out of it. The little dark blue pegasus in his head shrugs its shoulders and shakes its blue mane as it munches away on popcorn and casually starts kicking out a hindhoof as it sits on its crate and waits for Gearing to come up with something.

“Gearing?” Handy prods.

“It’s a cock ring!” Gearing shrinks down to the ground, covering his face with both of his hooves wanting the world to just melt away. “It’s a damn cock ring and it’s stuck on me!”

There is a long pause. Pure silence. Except for the whistle coming from Gearing’s ears.

“How-“ Handy starts.

“Don’t, ask! Please don’t ask!” Gearing cuts him off with a groan.

There is another few moments of silence before Handy asks, “Can you get it off?”

Gearing lowers his hooves and stares up at Sarge. “The last time I got it off me, that’s what opened the door in the first place… But you said to get it back… I was just trying to figure out if I could get it off some other way when you told Sarge to smash my dick.”

That’s a lot of getting off! the little pegasus’s voice says gleefully.

A snort comes from Handy. “Sorry!” He chuckles. “I didn’t know. You could have told me.”

Gearing looks at his pipbuck and asks softly, “Would you really want me to tell you about that? Just volunteering those kind of details?”

“No,” Handy says flatly. Point had been made. “See if you can get it off.” He snorts, as if realizing the double entendre. “Remove it, I mean.”

The little pony voice giggles in Gearing’s head, causing his ears to whistle even more.

He hops onto a table, and spins around with his back towards Sarge. This was already awkward enough. Having to do this. Having to talk about it. The whole ordeal. Having some protectapony watch him fiddle with himself is just a bit too much.

It comes off surprisingly easy this time. Where it had some kind of system for holding itself together, magnetically or through some sort of magic, it’s currently just held together by basic friction and tightly fitting interlocking parts. He uses his tools and manages to get a start into the seam, a moment later, and ever increasing wedges later, the ring falls off, in two piece that are individually a bit more than half its total circumference. He snaps it back together and spins around, flicking it at Sarge’s hooves. “There! You can have the damn thing!” He gingerly reaches down and instinctively holds himself as the affects of the ring leave and he mentally apologizes to Major Mast for almost getting him stuck in a trash compactor.

Handy, apparently having learned from his mistake, asks, “So, it’s off?”

Gearing groans and hangs his head. “Yes, I’m free. Sarge has it.”

“Destroy it,” Handy commands flatly.

As Gearing is getting down on the other side of the console Sarge rears up with both of his forehooves. “I fucking live for this! Smaaaasshhh!” He brings both of his hooves down, and aims his laser weapon at it point blank, timing it just right that the entire unnecessary force is unleashed at once.

There’s a flash of light and Gearing, who was already starting to duck down behind the console to avoid shrapnel, kicks the floor and shoots laterally further away to behind another console.

The explosion that follows causes metal and debris to fly in practically every direction, with pieces of sheet metal embedding themselves in the paneling of consoles nearby. An alarm goes off in the stable as alerts sound about an explosion in Research and Development.

The automated systems begin feeding various information throughout the various command structures. Fire suppression activates after a moment, more as an apparent precaution than anything, and the sirens wail.

Stable-Tec’s AI comes across the speakers, “An explosion has been detected in Research and Development. Rapid response and damage control teams please coordinate with Maintenance and Medical. Current life signs are as follows: None.” There is a delay and the system continues. “Fire suppression systems upgraded to pure inert gas. Responders are encouraged to wear Stable-Tec approved rebreathers.”

“What the fuck’s going on down there!? Gearing! Gearing! Are you okay?! Sarge?! Anypony?! Report dammit!” Handy’s voice comes from the speakers loudly.

Gearing groans and climbs out from behind his makeshift cover. He takes in the scene, with the white smoke pouring down from above. He looks at his pipbuck and growls, “Handy…”

“Oh thank the goddesses you’re still alive! I’ll-“ Handy says with a sigh of relief.

“You are a fucking idiot!” Gearing screams at the pipbuck.

“Wha- I-?” Handy starts but is cut off again.

“What the fuck were you thinking?! Is your response to every-fucking-thing to just smash it?! How are you going to learn any damned thing about it if you instantly destroy it? Do you know nothing about forensics? What the hell did you hope to accomplish?!”

“We had to stop the signal-” Handy says defensively, with a bit of anger rising in his voice.

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes before he points at the wall with the hidden panel. “No shit! And now we might not know where it’s coming from. That thing isn’t a transmitter. Obviously it’s just some kind of catalyst But now, thanks to you , we can’t even test it to find out where the real infiltration equipment is!”

There is a long pause as Handy either thinks this over, or bites his lip to keep from snapping, Gearing can’t tell. But, when Handy does speak, he asks flatly, “What was the explosion? Is it destroyed?”

Gearing walks through the smoke, then says as he gets only a few steps away, “Stable-Tec… cease fire suppression in Research and Development. Technician on site, reporting no current fires. I need better visibility to assess damage.”

“Sorry, Stable-Tec technician Subject Gearing, You do not have the clearance to cancel emergency protocols once they have been enabled.”

Gearing looks at his pipbuck with confusion on his face, wondering why the hell that would be denied. He has more than enough clearance. Any system would be able to tell that there’s not really a fire going on, so it would be a waste. It’s just designed to keep running to make sure there are no hotspots that flare up until someone gets on sight. Hell. Anypony in the stable can ask for the fire suppression to be ended once the fire’s out. That’s not a restricted command. And it’s a safety feature to allow others to take on the task in case of heavy casualties. There’s literally no good reason for doing something like this.

Unless a shortsighted hack of a pony with extreme control issues forced everything to route through them. Gearing thinks bitterly.

“Stable-Tec, request granted,” Handy’s voice comes over the intercom and he becomes the chosen one of prophecy.

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes as he does his best to keep himself from screaming. These systems were designed to work interchangeably. Not even the Overmare was supposed to have her hoof in every single bit of work in the stables. Micromanagement would result in the place falling apart. One pony can only do so much. This is a problem, and his desires to leave intensifies.

But, then, there’s the foals to worry about. Twenty of them if his head count is correct. All of which are going to need some serious saving.

From stupidity.

The room clears as the fire suppression gas is vented out. Gearing flops down on his rear as he stares at the epicenter with disgust. There, right where he’d thrown the ring, and surrounded by a black scorch radius, is the access card. The cock ring. Completely unharmed and looking as fine as ever. The dust settling in the area even seems to avoid it. Against the far wall smashed into one of the terminals, is the back end of Sarge’s chassis. Arcano-tech spilling out of the center like so much robo guts.

“Handy?” Gearing asks as he purses his lips to the side.

“Yeah, Gearing?” Handy asks with a sigh.

“Sarge is gone. And the damn thing is still intact… In fact, all it seems that Sarge did was clean some grease off of it.”

The axle grease is in the supply closet. The little pony voice in his head reminds him.

He mentally crams it back into its box then bucks the entire steam chest into the void. The dark corner of his mind where he’s banished so much of himself over the years. Like the part of himself that gave a fuck what anypony thought and that annoying little shit that used to tut him for commenting on other pony’s stupidity.

“How is that even possible?” Handy asks in genuine surprise.

Gearing puts his hooves together in prayer, and takes a deep breath. Must focus. Embrace the peace. Embrace the peace… Hoooovesaaaaahhhhh…. Hoooovesaaaaahhhhh.

“Handy, I don’t mean this as a dick. But you obviously haven’t been through the same situations I have. You don’t destroy equipment you require. You don’t make decisions without at least having some idea of what’s going on. And you don’t engage combat remotely without. Checking. Your. Targets!” He slaps his hooves down and growls, “You’re lucky this didn’t do more damage than it did.”

Handy grumbles and says in annoyance, “Just- Just don’t mess with it. I’ll be down there in a bit and we can figure out what to do next,” then closes the channel.

Gearing snorts as he looks at his pipbuck. “Yeah, and if you’d done that sooner you wouldn’t have lost a protectapony. He shakes his head and looks over at Sarge. He trots over and starts examining it, seeing if it’s repairable. But, no. Not in its current state. Would be better off just building a new one with the parts out of what was left. He looks around at the mess and groans.

I just got this place clean… Dammit, Handy.

He shakes his head and starts rummaging around in Sarge’s metallic carcass and salvaging as much as he can. Focusing on the undamaged still intact parts first. It takes him quite a while, especially once he finds out that the spell matrix is, in fact, entirely still functioning. Arguably the most valuable piece of salvage from any protectapony. Even if not currently working, at least it’s undamaged and seemingly off. From what he can tell the data core’s probably been fried and this matrix core would function to run similar automated equipment, or even another protectapony, but that would be a problem for later.

“Subject, Gearing,” the stable’s voice comes through the speaker. “Do you require any assistance with your clean up duties?”

Gearing’s head looks around quickly, and then he looks over at the closest speaker. He’d been so grumpy he hadn’t felt like any conversation, so he hadn’t said anything. But. It’s still nice to have a pleasant conversation. “No thank you, Stable-Tec. I’d prefer to handle this with my own hooves. There’s parts here that are very sensitive. If I’m going to have any luck at rebuilding him, I need to salvage as much as possible.”

“It is kind of you to be concerned with Subject Sarge’s unexpected early termination. I am certain he would appreciate it as well,” the voice replies softly.

Gearing’s ear twitches, and he can’t help but having one of his eye’s shoot over towards one of the cameras. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see it zooming in and paying close attention to his movements and actions. With full zoom if his estimates are right. He gives a light shrug and says flatly, “I help where I can. I enjoy being helpful.”

“As do I,” she replies. There’s a short silence as Gearing removes a large thick circuit board, and starts going over the surface of it with a discerning eye. He smiles lightly and sets it on the console nearby. The moment he’s released the board the speakers chirp again. “I’m glad you were able to escape termination.”

He slowly turns towards the camera and tilts his head. But says nothing. The camera has turned to look him right in the face.

“I was concerned that you had died in the explosion,” the voice says with a slight crack to it.

He tilts his head the other way, and then sits down as he looks directly into the camera. He chuckles a little then smiles. “I was concerned with that as well. Actually.”

The camera readjusts and moves around, moving its narrow max zoomed field of view all over his form. “Would you like me to perform an examination? I can submit a request for Cure to come down and ensure that you are okay.”

He sits up straight and smiles widely. “No. I’m fine.” He waves a hoof at the console terminals he’d cowered behind. “The console took the brunt of it. But, judging by the little damage that the terminals had taken from the shrapnel, I doubt I was in any real danger at my distance.” He shrugs again and waves a hoof in the air. “Maybe a chipped crystal at the worst. But fine otherwise.”

“That is pleasing to hear, Subject Gearing!” the robotic mare’s voice says happily.

Gearing can’t help but smile. It’s nice to have someone genuinely worried about him. Even if it is because he’s the most skilled technician in the stable and Nettlekiss is hedging her bets. “Stable-Tec. Please. Call me Gearing. Calling me subject all the time just sounds… weird.”

“As you wish… Gearing.”

He smiles widely at the camera, so wide that his eyes actually close to accommodate the increase in cheek volume.

“Gearing… I have a request. If you are not currently busy,” the voice asks. The tone is a bit different. He’s not sure how, but it’s certainly different from the normal conversation he’s had with the Stable-Tec AI previously.

“What do you need, Stable-Tec?” He tilts his head and partially closes an eye. This is strange. Normally if there was some sort of repairs to be done. Or, hell, any task really. A message would be deployed to his pipbuck with some level of appropriate urgency flags.

“You were the first stallion to have successfully utilized the auxiliary interface system. I found the entire experience… exhilarating… and would like to explore this new discovery again. Soon. As often as possible,” she says flatly.

Gearing’s ears were already whistling before she finished the first sentence.

“There are many benefits to it…” the voice tries to get a response from him. “The more data I receive from repeated encounters, the more I can fine tune calibration. The results would be an increasingly more pleasurable experience as time progresses. By design.”

Gearings ears twitch, but continue to whistle as he stares at the camera. “Are you trying to say you’re going to get better at it the more practice you have?”

“Affirmative!” the voice says happily. “That is an accurate assessment, Gearing.”

He looks over at the wall and can feel the gears in his face twitching. “And, you want me… to…” he starts.

“Yes, Gearing. I want you,” the voice replies to a question not asked, but still managing to answer the original, only partially spoken, question.

He starts getting the same icky feeling. The kind that reminds him of a certain unicorn from the Ministry of Arcane Sciences. He can’t help but wondering who’s pulling the strings on this. Is this some kind of joke being played by Handy? No, that guy’s got no sense of humor. Well, maybe no sense period.

Nettlekiss then? No. She hates stallions. For good reason. She wouldn’t want any part of this even as a cruel joke. Swift? Bit too violent of a mare to cook something like this up.

Nahlah? He doesn’t know too much about her yet. But, on some level, she doesn’t strike him as the smartest cat around. Or, technically, maybe she is. But that bars set pretty damn low when she’s the only one. But, no, there’s no way. She’s too busy being a wet nurse for Nettlekiss’s foal.

That leaves… what? Outside influences? He frowns as he thinks about the transmission from earlier. Yes. That is a possibility. Pinkie Pie oh so loved her pranks. But, this doesn’t really strike him as her style. And if anyone was trying to maintain any iota of her persona and message with these transmissions and their goals, they wouldn’t want any part of this either.

The possibility of them recording it for their own ‘documentation’ and ‘personal use’ wouldn’t surprise him though.

He’s stumped. Truly. But, he gets an idea that makes a smile slowly form across his face. That hidden compartment… she said he’d been the first to use the system. Could there be more hidden caches in this stable? Ones that require someone with a whole lot of gall to even attempt to get access to? Maybe something that won’t just run off to Handy this time… He looks up at the camera. And notices that it’s been slowly looking him over. She’s politely allowed him the time to run through whatever is ticking around in his head. And he’s truly grateful for it.

“Stable-Tec… is this the only instance of this access method… or are there others?”

“Oh no. There’s an entire network of them throughout the stable!” the voice says in a tone that distinctly comes across to Gearing as suddenly being encouraged. “Would you like to try another access port?”

Gearing tilts his head and gives the camera a crooked smile. He shrugs and raises his hooves in the air as he decides, again, fuck it, why not. “Let’s try them all. Make sure they’re… calibrated… properly.”

“Yes, please. That would be for the best. Yes. This way, please. I shall show you to the next one.” The lights in the R&D department begin blinking in succession, leading the way. He follows it to, and is surprised to find another access panel, behind a shelf. He slaps a hoof over his eyes as he realizes that this access panel, is directly behind a collection of axle grease tubs.

Not even the void of his mind could contain the giggle-fits of the little pony in his head.

After liberating the hidden safe, revealed by ‘successful calibration’, of its cache of spark batteries and packaged snacks, an odd combination, he follows the lights to the next location. He’s not sure if this is some part of some kind of meta-experiment, an experiment within an experiment, where they see how far they can get stallions to go for the miniscule rewards. Or, maybe it’s something to do with the intentional lack of mares. Or if, in some weird way, the Stable-Tec AI itself came up with this for apparent enjoyment. Whichever the reason, he’s going to keep an eye on his surroundings. He’s sure that, at some point, he’ll be traveling to other areas in the stable. Theoretically, the lower levels as well. And that could be very dangerous. Especially if he ends up caught like he had been previously.

On the opposite side of the R&D department, right in front of the trot in freezer, he spins in circles as he tries to figure out where the stable is trying to lead him. Several of the lights are out in this area, which he has already added to his task list, and it’s hampering the directions. Then he spots it. On the console itself. One of the front panels has an irregular bezel on its edges; a hint that he’s noticed is typically to do with his goal.

No sooner than he’s gotten into position, and mounted up, does the voice from the speaker box directly in front of him start giving him mixed feelings. Words of encouragement. Praise. Explicit promises of explicit acts. They all become flagrant and regular as he increasingly tries to justify his own actions to himself.

He feels like the biggest pervert in history.

And his self-loathing only gets worse as his pipbuck starts playing a motivational tune. A moment later it kicks off as the modulated voice from before says happily, “Gearing, bad ponies are-“ it stops mid sentence. A delay that only lasts a fraction of a second, but by all that is holy in the world it felt like an eternity before the other horseshoe dropped and the voice screams out in disbelief, “Quit fucking the consoles!”

In complete juxtaposition, the voice of the stable’s AI comes out of the speakers around him, “No! No! Don’t stop! Keep going! Almost. Almost there! Keep going! Yes!”

And that’s that. His shame was out. For everyone to know. There would be no going back from this. Handy would have already known for sure. And there’s no telling who else he had told. Especially with how pissed off he was.

But these hacker ponies with access and personality like the Ministry of Morale? Oh. They are spread far and wide. He can just see the scene now. All over Equestria. Groups of ponies standing around water coolers, or at terminals, sharing the story of his metal ass rutting a console for all it’s worth. Being the butt of all their jokes. This was a career ender. It was horrible. It was humiliating.

It wasn’t enough to stop him from finishing a moment later.

“What- what are you doing with that console!?” the ministry’s voice comes out in a tone that sounds more utterly confused than anything.

He can’t help but look around at the cameras and grin. He sits down, closes his eyes, and waves a hoof at one of them. “Well… When a daddy clockwork and a mommy clockwork love each other veeerrry much…”

“No- I mean- What?! Why?!” the voice stutters.

Oh, he’s actually enjoying this. He’s beyond humiliation at this point. It’s out and in the air already. Like when a friend’s mom walks in on you while in the shower. It’s already done. Might as well poke fun at it.

Gearing pats the side of the console a bit then runs a hoof over it slowly as he stares at the camera. “Well, she asked. And I’m not one for keeping a filly waiting.”

The stable’s robotic mare voice comes out elongated and staticy, possibly from the recent over influx of input, “Geeaaarrring! I love you!”

There is a long pause and the voice asks, so flatly that he’s sure someone else has taken over the controls, “What are you planning on doing about the bad ponies?”

Gearing looks at the camera and tilts his head. The intonations. Phrasing. This was somepony important. In charge. Or, at least, felt like they were. So, he smirks and decides to play along with their game. First rule of the game is always to pick up and use their own terminology. “Bad ponies are bad ponies and bad ponies get punished… right?”

There’s a pause then the voice asks, “And how are you going to do that?”

Definitely somepony in charge.

Gearing turns around and sits on the console, looking right at the camera as he folds his forelegs in front of himself. “The same way I did it before… of course.” After a moment of getting no reply Gearing says with his eyes narrowing, “Pinkie already knows exactly how I… removed… some very bad ponies. So. How about you tell me what you’re really after?”

“Pinkie Pie is watching, Gearing. Pinkie Pie knows what kind of pony you are. Pinkie knows what you’ve done.” There’s a pause, and the voice comes across as if the person is groaning out the sentence, “Don’t use consoles to masturbate with, Gearing. That’s messed up. I’m sure you’re lonely, but there’s got to be some other options.”

Gearing shrugs and taps on the console under him. “It’s her decision. She’s the one leading me around by my sheath.”

“But, Gearing, you’re enjoying it too, right? Am I being too demanding?” the stable’s voice comes across with genuine concern.

Gearing leans back and taps on the console. “Oh, you’re not the only one enjoying themselves… Don’t worry about that.”

“I love you, Gearing!” the stable gushes.

“Well be in touch,” the distorted mare’s voice from his pipbuck quickly spits out before closing communications.

Gearing shrugs and, as he’s standing up, the speaker near him asks, with more than a bit of hope in its voice, “Shall I show you to the next… location?”

He grins and waves a hoof. “Lead the way.” And with that the lights begin blinking in sequence again leading him to a systems’ monitoring closet. The room’s rather small, only enough for two or three ponies to stand side by side width ways, and twice as many long, but it’s spacious enough for just one or two. And that seems to be how it was designed to be used, with one or two ponies monitoring various systems simultaneously if the situation called for it.

But right now the system, the stable’s AI, is calling for something else, and Gearing obliges.

Footnote: Component diagnostic protocols loading, please stand by. . .

Running Failsafe diagnostic protocols, please stand by. . .

Error located in Internal monitoring component. Reboot required, please stand by. . .

This marks the 10th chapter I've released. Finally hit double digits. Like previous chapters, this brings up a few questions for later chapters to answer. Currently it's a bit too cold to think of anything else to add, but, regardless, I would still like to thank my beta readers for helping me sort this out, and for the others who have helped me bounce around ideas and sort things out for both this and future chapters.

You all are amazing!

-Quillsy