An Extended Holiday

by Commander_Pensword

101 - Can I Have a Pip-Boy Now?

Extended Holiday
Ch 101: Can I Have a Pip-Boy Now?
Act 16

---

Taze had returned to Nathan's apartment around three AM, where he crashed on his friend's couch and tried to get some rest. He woke up at eight AM and proceeded to run himself through some rudimentary stretches, and what exercises he could accomplish. Then he spent the next few hours organizing his bag. Next, he returned to the town with his hood over his head, and visited the bank, where he set up a dummy account. Fortunately for him, he managed to use his basic information at the teller without too much trouble, and placed all his remaining cash inside the new account. Finally, he got himself a Visa debit card to allow him to access said account easily.

With that task accomplished, he headed out on foot towards the outskirts of the town. Once he found a suitable place where nobody would see him, he transformed and shot upwards as quickly as he could, using the winds to aid him, so that he could be less visible from below. He proceeded to fly above his family's home, and did several passes. Finally, he set himself down outside the perimeter. It looked like his family were gone from the air, but he wished he could make sure. If only he had some way of getting an inside look of the yard.

Then it hit him as he spied a robin sitting on the nearby tree. This time, it was Grif’s memories that flashed into focus as he and Graf walked through the forest, the old bird showing him how to mimic the sounds of the birds and how to interpret them. It was not the most precise means of communication, as the birds were hardly capable of deep thoughts, but it was a fast way to find a place or to find out information, if you knew how to ask.

Taking several deep breaths, he opened his beak and proceeded to let out a series of chirps that mimicked the robin’s birdsong. The translation for his words if he remembered correctly, came across as such: “Greetings, Song Feather Red Breast. May your voice stay sweet and your nest be undisturbed. This lion bird would ask if the hums of yon nest have flown.”

There was a silence in which Grif was sure the robin hadn’t understood him, but then, to his surprise, she opened her beak and warbled. “Well met, lion bird. Two hums left nest in their large beasts. Their small chick also gone in larger beast.”

It took Grif a full moment to realize the robin had responded to his song. He carefully lowered his beak with gratitude before he made his way through the trees, and then the yard, and into the small house. He found the door unlocked, as it usually was, and let himself in, locking the door behind him. His uncle had a habit of coming by and letting himself in, and he didn’t need that right now.

Memories and scents assailed Grif’s nose as he entered, both of the humans who lived there, as well as the many fainter scents of people who had passed through. The faintest was barely on the verge of his senses, and he realized, quite suddenly, that it was his own human scent.

As he had suspected, his room was locked. He sighed heavily as he found a screwdriver and proceeded to pick the old-fashioned pressure lock. The door slipped open without an argument. The room was old and musty from lack of use. Dust particles filtered through the light and coated most of the articles. He took a moment to acclimatize himself to the rush of memories that came back. Then he took a deep breath and stepped in.

Boxes on boxes had been stacked and sealed with packing tape to protect their contents from the passing of time. With a bit of trepidation, he opened the first of them, and confirmed his suspicions. His old articles, including clothing and other personal effects, had been carefully preserved within the confines of the packaging. He struggled to hold back the pang in his chest. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions cloud his judgement. It was better this way. That was why he’d chosen to visit like this, rather than burden them with the pain of losing him again.

Over the next hour, he moved through the boxes, scanning their contents and adding them to his mental catalogue, before stowing them in his pack. Movies, games, several items and paraphernalia from series he enjoyed, his entire collection of fantasy swords and weapons, and finally, his books; the boxes and boxes of books. Jules Verne, HP Lovecraft, Tolkien, Lewis, Shelly, Doyle, Stoker, Jacques, Mccaffrey, and numerous other authors all jumped happily to the forefront in his cranium like old friends as he stowed them away. The worlds they created and the stories they told were all safe now. In the back of it all, he found the box containing his large black desktop computer with the translucent panel at the side. The monitor, the headset, his mouse and keyboard, and even his mouse pad were all neatly stored away. He ran through the catalogue as he surveyed the empty room. He did so three more times, before he realized there was something missing from the list; his Colt Python revolver. It had been a gift from his little brother, though where he’d found one, he never figured out.

Taze had complained constantly about the continuing bravery of coyotes in the winter, and had taken it upon himself to get the necessary permits for the weapon, though he had never intended to use one for more then firing in the air as he barely managed to pass the minimum qualifications when it came to actually firing the weapon. Still, on the day he’d received his license, his little brother had presented him with the gun, and it had been among his prized possessions. He was about to leave, when a hollow sound beneath his paws caught his ear. It took him a few minutes, but he managed to slowly work out the edge to what he discovered to be a hidden hinge in the floorboards. It took him a while to figure out how to open the pressure lock, but when he did, he found the weapon and the ammunition stowed away in a small Coke-a-Cola tin.

Confusion only lasted for a moment as he realized what must have happened. After he’d been gone for so long, his parents must have been preparing to move his things to storage, or possibly even sell some of it. He wouldn’t hold it against them, if they had, but his brother had hidden the weapon with the unrelenting hope that he would return.

He’d returned alright. The pain rebounded as he held the case and ran his talons gently over the cover. Then he opened his bag and located some paper and a pen. He hastily scrawled out a note, emptied the gun and ammo into his pack, and placed the note and several smaller gems back into the tin. This message would be for his brother’s eyes only. He blinked back tears as he replaced the tin and the lock. In a blur, he left the room and the house, and took to the air. He’d retrieved what he’d wanted. Now he would leave before more of the painful memories could build up. He aimed himself southwest and pushed off. Matthew had always invited him to come over if he was in the area. It was time to see just how long it would take him to be in the area.

---

Conor sighed as he rose from his daily pushups and grabbed a pair of old shorts and a shirt to go jogging with. It had been a long time since he’d been able to see his neighborhood, and he pondered how much it might have changed over the year that he’d been gone. With a quick tie of his shoes, he was ready to go, and after calling to let his mother know he’d be out for the next half hour or so, he immediately jogged out the door.

The cool morning air triggered goosebumps across his skin as he started his trip. The simple patter of one foot in front of the other was all he needed to focus on now, though he did focus on other things anyways. He had a lot to think about, after all.

“The one choice to rule them all,” he muttered. “Talk about a weighty decision. And if I’ve been missing for a year, there’s going to be loads of stuff here I need to deal with. College, finding a job, getting acclimated again, and that’s even assuming I choose to stay here.” He groaned and rolled his eyes. “The one time where a dream comes true to go on a fantastic adventure, and, all of a sudden, I find I wish my life wasn’t so complicated. Thanks a lot, universe.”

Fortunately, his ADD soon kicked in as he thought on other things: old friends, old stories, family, and–. He broke off his run and searched the street. The place looked abandoned enough, with the exception of an ACH van that had been parked in one of the driveways. A pair of workers were helping get the system switched over for the winter.

“. . . Funny,” he muttered to himself. He shuddered once, then broke into his jog again. No time to linger on it, and if someone was indeed following him, he’d deal with it when the time came. He’d been trained well enough to handle a surprise attack. “Jump Scare made sure of that,” he muttered darkly as thoughts of a certain black Pegasus with an unhealthy streak for scary pranks. “I swear, he was worse than Rainbow Dash.”

As Conor passed down the hill and out of sight, the pair of workmen looked at one another and sighed in relief.

“Kid’s got better senses than I thought.”

“You think he made us?”

“Nah. Still better call this in to HQ, though. Monitoring’s going to need to be more discreet.”

---

Shawn sighed as he sat in the living room, waiting for the return of his parents and additional relatives. Staring at the wall, he could make note of a few decorative swords hanging here and there, a rifle, even a few bottle caps sitting on the top shelf near his window. Perhaps someone was saving them for something? The metal may have some type of worth. Then again, that was neither here nor there anymore. He shrugged as he continued to run up the catalogue of things that once, and still were, his possessions; relics of an old world and an old life.

After a few more minutes, he heard the sound of a car driving up and parking in the driveway. Three doors opened and slammed closed, soon followed by the sound of something else opening and closing. That was probably the front door. He’d have to catalogue that for later, just in case someone entered who wasn’t supposed to. He let out a breath as he continued listening to the sounds. He hadn’t been able to discern everyone’s individual footsteps just yet, but he had a feeling it was his parents, and someone big.

He shook his head as he tried to close out the noise around him. Apparently, his time as a Pony had sharpened his hearing a little too well. He allowed himself a brief wince as a dull ringing sounded in his ears. He just had to focus, calm down, and then it would stop.

The door opened, and the footsteps entered, soon rounding the corner to reveal a large burly man standing behind his parents. He looked quite strong, and his posture was erect and focused. His long grey hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and his beard was trimmed to keep it from going below his chest. He wore a dark brown shirt with a pair of dark blue cargo jeans and steel-toed work boots.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered. The faint scottish accent caught at Shawn’s ears.

Shawn stood as he looked the man over a few times. “. . . Uncle Andre?”

Andre quickly moved over and hugged him. Said hug held a lot of force that would normally have knocked the wind out of Shawn, had he not experienced all that he had in Equestria. “It is you!”

Shawn chuckled, returning the hug with less force. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Where in the world have you been, lad?”

“I’ll save that for later. I have a feeling the others will want to hear it as well.”

“You’d better,” Andre commented, before looking over his face. “Gods! What happened to you? You look like you got into a sword fight and lost.”

“Well, I did lose a few of those here and there.”

Andre blinked a few times as he looked him over again. “. . . I’ll ask later.”

Shawn suddenly perked up. “Last I remember, you had a smithy in town, right?”

“Of course I do. You think I’d give the shop up just because you disappeared?” He chuckled mirthfully. “We’ve had plenty of work, lad. Plenty of work.”

“Do you think we could go there at some point today?”

Andre smiled. “Sure, lad. It’ll give me time to catch up with you, too. You want to try your hand at one of those weird swords you used to draw?”

“No, no. I’d like to do something more … realistic.”

Mary and Hans smiled as the two talked back and forth, debating designs, materials, tempering techniques, and all things smithing. Andre was genuinely surprised at how knowledgeable his nephew had become, and it led to a very stimulating conversation, especially when Shawn produced a few of his works from his coat’s pocket. That sparked off another discussion entirely, which would likely last for several hours.

---

Matthew and Lunar Fang did not go to sleep that night, nor did they make their way to the loft. They had till nine AM to spend, and they decided that time would be best spent looking over the library. The books couldn’t be read, first because Matthew didn’t want to risk anything at the moment, and second, because Lunar Fang couldn’t read the language. Instead, he went to one wall that had gathered together something that he didn’t expect.

Model upon model stared him in the face, each on its own platform among the shelving units that had been set up. He remembered spending hours with his father as they worked to put these figures together, carefully picking them from the internet, discussing the history behind them, weighing their options on the budget they had to follow. So many memories, so much history, both for the world, and for himself, all combined in this little space.

He named each model, one after the other: the Titanic; the Lusitania; a U-Boat; the Yamato; the Missouri; the Arizona; the Britannic (one in her hospital ship colors and one in her never-used civilian colors); the Olympic; the Carpathia that picked up the Titanic’s survivors; the I-400, a Japanese Sub that could carry airplanes; the original CV-6 USS Enterprise; the CV-65 Enterprise, the only carrier of her class and first nuclear surface vessel; the Bismarck; and the HMS Hood.

As he followed the trail of models to the higher shelves, he noticed the three blimps and yet again recited their names. The Hindenburg, the USS Akron, and the USS Macon. The latter two were the aircraft carriers of the sky, and he couldn’t help but smile as he recalled the dream of being able to visit these ships, to experience what it would be like to walk inside them, to watch that machinery in action, maybe even operate it one day. Needless to say, some tendencies in the family were hereditary. Mark wanted to work with the train. Matthew wanted to work with everything.

The next couple of models were far from anything historical, unless one were to count television history. With a flap of his wings, Matthew hovered at the top of the shelves and stared at the original Battlestar Galactica from the 1980s TV show, and the original USS Enterprise. He chuckled as he recalled the positive memories of sitting around the television with family to watch the seasons develop for each of these universes. Star Trek was especially memorable for him as he recalled his father reading about the universe every night before bed. He missed that, just a little.

Finally, he turned to the last of his models. There, on its side, was the Apollo 11, with the Lunar Lander next to it. Naturally, the majority of the night was spent explaining about each of these models, and what they represented to him, while Lunar Fang listened diligently. The very idea of space travel seemed so alien to her, and yet the premise for the stories themselves were so alluring. Before they knew it, Matthew’s father was standing in the library with his hands over his hips as he tapped his foot in a manner Matthew knew only too well.

One sheepish smile later and a long explanation about their nocturnal cycle, the appointed time had come, and the family was gathered around the great dining room table, while Selma, Nancy, and two Aunts dished up food for him and his cousins, nieces, and nephews. In short, the table could best be described as ordered chaos. Children fought or teased or poked, others complained, some demanded food, while others still struggled in vain to control all the hubbub the younger children were causing. It reminded Matthew of some of the less ruley days back in the Academy, though he did pick up something from Rachel as she leaned in and whispered into his ear.

“Do you have something to wear? It’s not exactly kind to just be in your fur. No offense meant. It just sets a bad example for the children.”

Matthew nodded. “I have a dress uniform and some leather armor I use for hunting.”

“That’ll do,” she whispered back. “Also, we think we have a mountain lion prowling the tourist areas.”

Matthew got the hint. “I’ll see what I can do.” He shuddered. “Has it gotten any of the horses?”

“No, but it is making them nervous, and we almost lost one when it tried to buck its passenger and bolt.”

Matthew frowned. That was not good. “As I said, I’ll see what I can do.” He knew the herd would do well to protect themselves, but still, to lose one to an attack would be hard.

As they had suspected, he and Lunar Fang surprised most of the family when they each ate the bacon. Lunar Fang particularly enjoyed it, and seemed sad when it was gone. She removed the translation medallion and turned to Matthew. “I thought the food was going to be bad, but this . . . while I can tell there’s a difference, it’s surprisingly good. After what you and Taze said, I thought human food was supposed to be terrible compared to ours.”

Matthew chuckled. “That is because the Clouds will only have organic foods in their house. They always have, ever since the Second World War. The first thing my great uncle did when he got home was catch a fish, clean it, cook it, and eat it. He also picked wild berries in Oregon, which, admittedly, is odd. The whole family is allergic to processed foods, but if they get it themselves, it’s fine.”

He pointed to a half-eaten loaf of bread. “Baked fresh this morning. Gold County has one of the few remaining stone mills left. Oh, that reminds me, they need some of my gold. I want to make sure it stays in operation.” He smiled as he switched back to English. “I do say,” he said, stressing the accent for all it was worth, which led to quite a few snarks and many young children getting milk flowing out their nostrils. “This is a good, hearty breakfast.”

“What do you usually eat for breakfast?” Nancy asked as she paused to hand out three more pancakes to Robert.

“Well, a little more meat, pancakes, more syrup, and camp cakes, a sort of biscuit that can be cooked on hot rocks as a meal on the go. That, and a few Thestral delicacies that I know Earth does not have.”

“Cool. So, uh, do you like the food?” Robert asked.

“I ate ten pancakes, and what feels like a whole cantaloupe, and…” he stopped as the whole table burst into laughter.

“I am guessing I can compete with someone?” Matthew asked.

“You can eat as much as Robert,” Selma said. Ever since you left, he’s reigned as the undisputed champion.”

“Well that is good. I am not risking eating the hay, oats, or grass of this land. Well the oats… oh do you have any horse cookies? I would like to try one, just to see what it tastes like. After all, I am, well, you know.” He motioned to himself with a wing.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Nancy said. A mirthful smile pulled at her lips and her eyes sparkled with suppressed mirth. “I still can’t believe you actually tried one of those things over there.”

“But they were yummy.”

Nancy shook her head. “I know. I know. Everything in Equestria is yummy, from what I understand.” She chuckled. “You’d better get going. I’ll keep your plate ready. The kids are going to be wanting to watch the show. And before you ask, we TiVo it, so the kids can fast forward the commercials.”

“Ah,” Matthew answered. “Well, let us go and see what we have to see.”

---

The ground flew by under Grif at a startling pace. Fields and trees blurred underneath him with every flap of his wings. The weather was sunny and warm for autumn, and the air was crisp at his current altitude, but his feathers and fur kept the worst of it off, and the wind seemed perpetually at his back without his needing to push it. He’d passed the Canada-USA border high enough that anyone looking up would see a small black spot in the air, and probably imagine it was a hawk or some other form of raptor. Still, Grif made an effort to avoid populated areas, especially sites that may have some form of radar.

The trip, once he’d figured out his course, was somewhat straight, so he spent some time arranging affairs on his phone, thankful he had made sure to get international coverage on his plan. He checked his e-mail, and then promptly closed it, deciding that ten thousand e-mails wasn’t worth the effort. He checked FiMfiction.net, and was surprised to find more than a dozen stories he’d been following were finished. He searched amazon and smiled as he found himself purchasing several things he had no real use for, but had always wanted, and arranging for them to be shipped to Matthew’s address, which he had from the times they’d sent letters and packages between each other.

He put his phone away as the Rocky Mountains came into view in the distance. He found a decent crag and stopped to rest his wings. He also built a fire to heat the remainder of the deer meat from the previous day’s hunt. After he finished eating, he donned his armor. It would be heavier while flying, but it had been too long since he’d last worn it, and it felt wrong to be without it. Taking a fifteen minute nap, he snuffed the fire out and took off, heading, once again, for his bearing. He hoped to surprise Matthew before the day was out, and firmly did his best to keep that hope at the forefront, so Murphy couldn’t interfere.

---

Shawn couldn’t help but smile as he stood in his uncle’s smithy. He was able to easily recognize several tools that he would use almost every day, and a few machines that he had next to no clue as to what they were for.

He removed his coat, folding it and neatly placing it off to the side. After a moment he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt to keep the material out of the way. “So, what material do you have to spare?” he questioned.

“Depends. I’ve got some iron and steel, if you want to try your hand at it,” Andre offered.

“Steel sounds like an easy start.”

Andre gave him a look as he sorted through a few bars before removing one from the pile. “Do you even remember some of the stuff I taught you, or should we start from the beginning?”

Shawn chuckled. “I have it covered. I’ve had plenty of time to learn on my own.”

Grabbing ahold of the ingot, he could feel Andre keeping an eye on him as he studied the material and made his way over to an anvil. “Oh yeah. You’ll also get to see a few neat tricks that I have.” He grinned impishly.

“Such as?”

Shawn simply held up the ingot as it slowly began to heat up, changing color right before Andre’s eyes. “I don’t need to wait on the metal heating up, since I can just, you know, accelerate it to the needed temperature.” He chuckled at Andre’s expression, then reached for a hammer. There were several to choose from, but he ultimately settled on what looked to be a traditional, simple smithing hammer. He gave it a quick twirl as he looked it over, then placed the ingot on the anvil. After a bit more scrutiny, he finally decided on a simple longsword for this project.

Lifting the hammer in the air, he brought it down with a well-known ping of metal on metal.

And fracturing wood.

Looking to his hand, he found the remains of the hammer in his grasp, the other half of it having been launched several feet away.

“Uhh…” Andre started.

“I… can pay for that?” Shawn offered.

---

When Conor had arrived home, he found an anxious and very much relieved mother waiting by the door. “It’s fine, Mom. Nobody’s going to try to kidnap me or pull me away, and even if they did, I’m not so defenseless as I used to be. I have my training, and I don’t mean just magic.”

“You just got back, Conor. I think I’m entitled to a little mother-henning after not seeing you for a year. Though, since you are back, what costume were you thinking of wearing for Halloween?”

“That’s . . . actually a good question. I wasn’t really planning on dressing up, truth be told. I mean, it’s not like I can get a hold of a quality costume that fast. We’ve only got, what, a few more weeks?”

“More like one.”

“And you’re asking me to put together a costume that quickly?”

“Touché.” She looked pointedly at him. “Are you ready for church this Sunday?”

“Well that depends. Do you think you can help me take in the waist on my pants?”

“I suppose we’ll just have to, won’t we?” she said with a smile.

“Aww crud!”

“What? What is it?”

“Mom, think about it. I’ve been lying under the radar so far, because I’ve pretty much kept to home and the neighborhood. Once I’m in church, and everyone starts talking …”

“You’re thinking about the news crews, aren’t you?”

“After being gone for a year? Yeah, somebody’s going to want to interview me.” Conor sighed as he made his way to the sink and took a long drink of water. “And then we have to worry about the government, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mom, I’ve just been to another world. At the very least, we’re going to have the government breathing down my neck for every detail, and I’ll have to talk to the President. And that’s if I’m lucky. Considering I just said that, and just how badly Murphy’s been trolling me for the last year, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a lot bigger, a lot more involved, and very, very exhausting.”

“Conor, why don’t you just worry about the now for now? We don’t know what’s going to come in the future, but we do know that you’re here, safe and sound again. Put those worries aside for now, and let’s just enjoy the fact that we’re a family again.”

Conor sighed. “A little hard to do that, Mom.”

“Because?”

“It’s complicated.”

“How?”

“. . . Magical stuff?”

Conor’s mother raised a quizzical eyebrow. “And that’s all you can say about it?”

“Yeah. Pretty much. I’m still sort of mulling through it all.”

“You know I’m here to talk to if you need to, right?”

“Mom, I always know that. It’s just… this is something I have to figure out for myself, you know?”

She sighed. “I think so.” Then she pulled Conor into a deep hug, despite his sweaty condition. “I love you.”

“I know, Mom,” he replied with a choked-up voice. “I know.”

---

Matthew was taking a peaceful walk outside. He had lasted the opening scene, the intro, and two minutes into the main set of the show before he had gotten up in a huff and left. He couldn’t stand to see Rainbow Dash acting so . . . immature. Twilight was more confident than she was in the show. It was like a caricature that messed up on a key feature. The moment that a Scottish talking Griffon showed up, he threw up his wings and left. Lunar Fang was laughing her head off at the antics, while getting strange looks from his cousins, but for him, it was just too much.

He found himself at the airport, which, as he looked at the sun, meant he’d walked so long that the episode would have ended a few minutes ago. At the same time, he didn’t really care for that show, as he’d just spent the last several minutes thinking about how horribly inaccurate it was, while he traveled. He sighed and shook his head to clear it. Since he was here, he might as well poke around the areas the Cloud family usually went. A travel down memory lane would be nice, especially after Great Uncle Cloud passed, but first, he needed to get to the front desk for a security badge.

He turned and walked to the front of the airport, but as he did, he heard the sound of a learjet landing. He looked up and frowned. That logo for the local ski resort was an eyesore, and he would recognize it anywhere, even after all this time away. “Great . . . he’s back.” He picked up his pace as he hoped to get his security badge before running into the owner of said jet.

He walked up to the entrance and stumbled as the glass doors opened on their own. “I . . . that. . . .” He didn’t know what to think at seeing this technology. It took him a moment before a distant memory of his humanity came back. “Automatic. Right.” He took a breath and stepped forward into the lobby.

“Woah now,” a tall, fat man objected as he stepped up. He looked at the Pony and blinked. “That’s a breed I’ve never seen before. Better get you to animal control, little fellah.”

Matthew’s eye twitched. “My good sir, I am not some dumb animal that is to be ‘owned’ by the residents of this town. If you would please step aside, I have business to conduct at the front desk of this airport.”

The man stepped aside in shocked muteness. Matthew smiled and nodded his head in thanks as he walked forward. He ruffled his wings, so the tips touched each other on his back.

“He’s got wings!” someone yelled.

Matthew cringed at the shrill pitch. “Of course I’ve got wings,” he muttered under his breath. “Why are the wings the big thing? I just talked.” He stopped his grumbling as he reached the counter, looked up, and saw a confused-looking attendant peer over, before her eyes widened. “I need to see the General,” he said in Japanese.

The attendant nodded dumbly with wide eyes as she moved to a side door and opened it up. Matthew smiled and walked into a hallway lined with doors. The setup reminded him only too well of the interrogation halls when he first started his life in Equestria. How long ago that felt now, practically a lifetime. He looked up at the signs by each door, and continued on his way. Three doors farther, he stopped, raised a hoof, and tapped on the metal. He smiled as the sound of the impact echoed through the hallway.

The door finally opened to reveal a burly man with a salt-and-pepper, high-and-tight, flat top hair cut, and a tight-fitting police uniform looking down at him. He smiled wryly as he looked down at the Pony with little, if any, surprise. “So the news in the Cloud vine is true. You really are a Pony.” He rubbed his chin, then chuckled. “Come on in. I’ll get you a new picture and print off your security badge. You want access to Gramps’ hangars, right?”

“Yes, and his old stomping grounds, if that’s all right. I have pretty good hearing, so I think I can handle the airport.” Matthew smiled. “It’s good to see you, Bill.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Matthew.” Bill smiled as he typed rapidly at his computer console. “So you want this pass to use your Earth name, or do you want your other name?”

“Since my form is more equine, I think Pensword would be the better one to use. That is my name while I’m in this form, after all. It’s just… good to be Matthew for a while here, you know? And yes, that is the English translation.”

“Why the fancy accent? If I didn’t know better I’d think I was talking to the Brigadier or something.”

“Har, har, har. I am no Lethbridge Stewart,” Matthew said sardonically.

“Best Earth character on Doctor Who,” Bill said pointedly.

“Doctor Who?”

Bill turned around. “It’s only been four years. How can you have forgotten about Doctor Who–?” He trailed off. Then his mouth pulled into a grin. “You cheeky little winged chicken. You’re pulling my leg.”

“Hoof,” Matthew corrected automatically as he smiled just as much as Bill. “It really is good to see you again.”

“Right. Uh. . . .” He paused and quickly moved to find a wooden stool to hide the rising blush in his cheeks. “Just, uh . . . sit on this, and we’ll get that picture taken.”

Matthew smiled as he opened his wings, lifted off and actually kicked the stool away as he hovered in front of Bill. “I think I can manage.”

“How?” Bill asked

“Believe it or not, magic.”

“Right. Okay. . . . Anyway, bright flash.”

The flash hit, and Matthew was still smiling. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Not even going to ask,” Bill said as he shook his head. “It’s tough enough swallowing the fact my cousin is a Pony.”

---

Conor sighed as he booted up his laptop and looked over his Skype account. As he had expected, a rather large number of messages had passed through his inboxes while he’d been gone. He quickly cycled through to the bottom of the boards, and let his friends know he was all right. If he was going to be staying on Earth anyways, he might as well let his friends know he was okay. He owed them that much.

After a few hours of chatting, he finally decided to get off for a while and catch up on some real world events instead. As usual, the Republicans and Democrats were bashing against each other with all their might. The war on terror had continued in the Middle East, and politicians were still arguing on both sides of the floor, with the majority trying to force their agendas through, instead of acting bipartisanly. In short, it was a mess, just the way he’d left it.

Conor shook his head in disappointment. “I guess some things never change.”

In a flash of inspiration, he pulled up the skype one more time and pinged a message off to Shawn, Taze, and Matthew.

“Hey, guys. Made it safe and sound. Hope you did, too. Hit me up when you get the chance.”

A few minutes later, the messenger pinged. Shawn had responded.

“Good to hear. I was interrogated at a military base.”

“You were what now?”

“Landed in a military base, got interrogated. Simple as that.”

“How is it you manage to come home, and you still wind up in trouble?”

“Because it would be too easy otherwise.”

“Shawn, life is never simple for you, is it?”

“Life will be easy when I die. Until then, it’s always entertainment, just not for me half the time.”

“Clearly. It’s all sorted out now, though, right?”

“They want to do additional tests, because I broke most of their equipment.”

“Seriously, man?”

“They wanted a blood sample, so I had to use one of my knives to actually pierce my skin.”

“You mean that actually carried over to your human form?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it?”

“Heck if I know. I just figured you’d at least be able to get blood drawn the natural way.”

“Too bad for them it isn’t that way.”

“So, I think somebody’s watching me. Figure FBI’s got a guard out on us?”

“Oh yeah. I bet they could even listen into conversations on anything we own.”

“Yo, agents! Isn’t it a little rude to eavesdrop?! :P”

“I’ve got to get going. I hear someone driving up the driveway. See you next time.”

“All right. See you later.”

Conor smiled as he logged off of Skype. At least one of them had made it all right. That would be enough for now.

---

Matthew pressed himself stealthily against the hangar wall.The moment he’d heard those voices, he knew it would be best to remain out of sight. He may have been authorized, but he was also technically an impossibility. Better not to have to deal with people trying to kidnap him or treat him like a dumb beast of burden. He scowled as memories of this particular voice’s owner flashed by. He honestly wished Marriott or Westgate would buy the idiot out, but so far, there had been no such luck, not even after three years of being away.

‘Oh, sweet Faust, don’t let his daughter see me,’ Matthew prayed fervently in his mind. That girl was worse than Diamond Tiara, and that’s saying something. He held his breath before slowly letting it out and slipping towards the back of the hangar. Then he turned a corner and stopped. The back of the airport had changed, but it still felt like he was walking onto an airfield during WWII. Steel plates had been laid out on the ground, and a primitive control tower jutted up in the distance. From that angle, a person could easily see the whole airport, including Matthew’s current position. Doing his best to avoid being detected, he darted between two more hangars and took a few calming breaths.

Suddenly, the main bay doors on the left hangar rumbled open as a half-assembled B-17 slowly rolled out into the sunlight. The workers must have just arrived to start maintenance. He hastily scanned the area for any witnesses, before turning around and making a break for the second hangar. Its doors were cracked open just widely enough for a human to slip through. Fortunately, that meant a Pony could get in no problem.

The transition from light to dark was comforting, and easier on his eyes. His ears swivelled as he waited for the men to pass. As he had suspected, it didn’t take much time. In few minutes, the men had come and gone. Matthew sighed in relief as he sat down on the cold cement floor and looked up at the collection of planes, and more particularly, at a white wing with a red ball towards its tip.

“Well don’t just sit there. Come help your uncle out with this gun. The Mustang’s going to jam in next week's air show if we don’t work on it now.”

Matthew jumped and, without thinking, shouted, “Coming, Uncle!” only to realize that he was speaking Equish again. He smiled at the familiar language as he weaved to the back. Under the wing of the Zero and the Messerschmitt, his eyes darted to another corner, where a Supermarine Spitfire sat, looking like it would be ready to take to the sky at a moment’s notice. There in the back, with its access hatch open for the wing cannons’ maintenance, was the P-51 Mustang. The translucent back end of a Pony rooted around in the compartment. Matthew opened his wings, flew up, and landed on the step zone for the plane.

“Good. Now see that bit I’m holding? Use that wing of yours to slide it out,” the Pony grunted.

Matthew was more than a little confused why the Pony had his great uncle’s voice, but he continued forward, slipped his wing in, and saw the item. It was a little brighter than the other parts. He pushed it and grinned. It was just a slim piece of metal. He easily worked it out with his wings, accompanied by the many words of praise from the mysterious Pony. The pair spent the next ten minutes working to oil and fix the plane. By the time he was done, Matthew smelled of oil and sweat, but the cannon would work now.

The translucent Pony pulled its head out of the wing and sat there, grinning. His mane was a mix of black and white, with a yellow stripe going between the two colors. The main coat was the same grey as some of the Unicorn guards from Canterlot, and his cutie mark was a thundercloud with two bolts of lighting and blue dots of rain. He stretched his wings and continued to smile as he looked over Matthew’s state. The two continued to stare at each other for a long while, before the ghost smiled. “I knew I would see you again.”

“Uncle . . . are you trying to make me feel better?” Matthew asked. “Because this is a little freaky.”

“Nah,” his uncle replied as he waved his wing dismissively. “I know Discord told you that your friend had to have another life exchanged to get him to stay and fight the other human.” He proudly placed a hoof to his chest. “Storm Cloud’s the name. Emergency Commander for the Equestrian Forces during the reign of Discord.” He chuckled as Matthew’s jaw dropped open, and his eyes widened. “Why else do you think I asked you kids to keep calling me Uncle Cloud? Had to keep a piece of my old name alive somehow.” Storm Cloud laughed. “But yes, it really is your Great Uncle Scott.”

“But . . . but that means. . . .” He faced-hoofed. “That means I was related to . . . is this some cruel twist of fate? You lived your life as a human, lived through the Second World War, and so fate, or the universe, or God decided that he needed to give one of our family members back to Equis?”

“Don’t be like that,” Storm Cloud glowered. Matthew was sure he could hear thunder roll in the distance. “You and I both know that’s not true. And on top of that, if you got the chance to choose, you know you would do it all over again in a heartbeat. You made your cloud bed. Now it’s time to lie in it.” He smiled kindly. “Now you can go report back to the Princesses. I know they’ve worried about me ever since that day. They felt responsible for what happened. I don’t want them to have to bear that guilt anymore. Let them know I was very happy to live on Earth.” He smiled as he patted the Mustang’s wing. “I enjoyed these planes. They were the closest I could get to my old form. Did you know–?”

“That the first time you were given solo time on a plane, you did an aileron and barrel roll, all without training, and, as you told the instructor, it was instinct. You knew what the plane could and couldn’t do, and just where you could redline it, before you even learned its specs.”

Storm Cloud nodded. “Yeah, I did, but sometimes I felt the hits on the wings, too, like pinpricks in my arms. I never lost a plane, but I sure had some bad landings…”

“I saw the pictures. Aunt Selma said you landed one plane, even when the landing gear broke. You had cut the engine, and the impact destroyed the prop when the wheels snapped. You slid a ways, and as it slid, you remained harnessed, slid the canopy back, and the moment you could, you bailed.”

“Not a scratch on me. I brought the plane back, but it was touch close.”

“I think I understand why you hated the jets now.” Matthew frowned with ears pinned back and feathers bristled. His uncle looked much the same, with a grimace on his face like he’d eaten a sour lemon. Both burst into laughter.

They talked for some time as they caught up on past events, their times as commanders, basic training, and other moments they could bond over. Finally, Storm Cloud got up and stretched. “I’d better get going, kiddo. Got things to do, places to see. I’ve just got one thing to ask. Don’t fight with Selma when she asks, okay? She’s just as stubborn as I was, and she’ll get her way one way or the other. Take her back with you, when you can. If you don’t, she’ll find a way. She’s already getting her will ready for execution once she’s gone.”

“What?”

Storm Cloud chuckled as he faded away. “You think a Pegasus at heart would ever settle for less than a warrior of a woman? She’s going to have her way, so take the path of least resistance. It’ll be a lot easier. I love you, Nephew.”

“Uncle Cloud. . . .”

“There you are!” Matthew jerked awake and let out a sound similar to a goat before flopping onto his back with his legs locked in the air. Lunar Fang glared down at him, a security badge dangling around her neck like a pendulum. Had he really been asleep? But . . . it all felt so real. “It’s almost two, and we have to find some way to dress up for the party!”

“H-hello, Lunar Fang.” He slowly rose to his feet and rubbed his head. “And . . . party?”

“Yes, a party. Your family wants you to help out. Your face has already showed up on the town’s facebook page, and YouTube, and your cousins submitted that picture to the website, whatever those things mean.”

“Oh . . . right. Uh . . . I . . . guess we had better go.” He looked up to see a familiar tool box still sitting on the old plane’s wing. “I just need to pick up after my uncle.”

Lunar Fang paused, then nodded as her expression softened. “Was he a good man?”

“Yes, he was, and, well, he did poke Discord in the eye at one point.” He picked up the toolbox and returned it to one of the workbenches, then rejoined Lunar Fang.

Lunar Fang laughed. “Based on what your family told me about him, I’d have to agree.”

Matthew waited till they reached the hangar door, where some of his family stood. “No. I mean really. He actually poked Discord in the eye. Why else do you think he picked the second Commander to switch places with Conor in the first place?”

Lunar Fang stopped dead in her tracks and stared at Matthew, then to the humans and back to Matthew. “. . . What?” she asked as her brain failed to compute what she’d just heard.

Matthew smiled knowingly. “Right. I think we’ll save that explanation for tonight. So, are you all ready for the party?”

To his surprise and confusion, no one fell over.

---

Grif was certain he was in the right area, but he’d circled within a ten mile radius twice now, and found nothing. It was frustrating, and his wings were beginning to get sore. He was afraid he’d have to land and try to find someone to ask for directions, when his eye caught the deep brown feathers and pearly white head of a bald eagle. With a relieved sigh, Grif let out a loud cry, which caused the eagle to stop in its flight.

Grif cried again once he was closer.

“Greetings, great high feather! May your flights be calm and your nest be peaceful. This lion bird wonders if your flights have seen you a horse bird or a horse bat?”

The eagle and he circled each other for a few minutes as the bird of prey considered his request. Finally, it let out a shrill cry.

“Horse bird and bat bird this high feather has seen. Tail follow, lion bird, and this high feather will take you.”

Grif let out a warble of thanks as the eagle led him through the air some twelve miles to the west.

“This high feather has seen horse bird and horse bat amongst the hums nesting in this place. May your hunts be fruitful!”

“And may your talons pierce much!” Grif lowered his beak with respect, before going into a dive. He let out a loud leonine roar as he stopped a hundred feet above ground.

Matthew and Lunar Fang were in the backyard region of the land adjusting their armor. While it wasn’t a full dress uniform, it never hurt to be prepared for any surprises, and now that the cat was out of the bag, they needed to be prepared. Matthew’s breastplate had a small dent from where Mark had shot it with a rifle. They all looked on in shock when they found the bullet hadn’t pierced. Then Matthew and Lunar Fang paused as they heard wing beats, followed by a lion’s roar. The two of them looked up, and Matthew grinned as the the Gryphon came plummeting down.

Meanwhile, Grif suddenly saw his landing zone littered with children in costumes as they looked up and cheered, while the adults looked on in utter shock. He heard the distinct click of at least three cameras. He slowed his descent slightly as he reached twenty feet above ground, before rising back up, turning into a front flip, and turning the ruby on his bracer. In a flash, a very human Taze landed on the ground with a loud boom. His right knee was fully on the ground with his left raised slightly. His right hand was balled into a fist and driven into the ground, and his head was bowed. A small draft pushed the dust that had been shot into the air away as he stood on his feet and observed the people in front of him.

“. . . ‘Sup?”

He was swarmed by children, one dressed as Superman, another as Batman, another as a princess, well, two princesses, a pirate, a soldier in a very flimsy outfit, and more, but at the moment, he could only hear a chorus of “Again! Again!” or “Go back to the wings!”

Matthew and Lunar Fang just smiled.

“So you finally got to visit.” Matthew chuckled. “How long do you have? Did you have a good time on your journey? Are you tired from your flight?” He sounded almost like Pinkie and Twilight when they got into one of their inquisitive moods. “Regardless, I have so much to show you. . . . But tonight is the party. Maybe after. We start in thirty minutes. It should last about three hours, and then I can take you around downtown and show you the sites.”

Taze chuckled as he transformed back into Grif, and laughed as the kids swarmed him. He held his wings out for their animated inspection. “Well, you know, it seemed like I’d have more liberty to fly here. And besides, we’re practically family, right? I’m your daughter's godfather. As for my trip, I finished my necessary business, and figured the time would be easier spent away from home.”

“I think I can understand that.” Matthew nodded as a hard glint shone in his eyes. “I just . . . I need this leave, for both my sides.” His eyes widened. “Don’t you dare pull his tail,” he snapped at a three-year-old cousin. “What did your mom and dad teach you about pulling your dog or your cat’s tail? Or what about Aunty Fang’s tail?” He kept a stern gaze on the child till he stepped away. Then he snorted and turned back to Grif and sighed. “I just wish I could have Moon River here. She would enjoy this.”

A poor flimsy red plastic suction cup arrow landed with a pathetic flop. “Also, the toys aren’t so good,” Lunar Fang said as they looked at a very young Robin Hood.

Matthew started suddenly. “Oh, Grif. I found out what happened to that commander after Discord’s little event with Conor.”

“Oh?” Grif asked as he balanced two laughing children on each outstretched wing.

“How. . .?” Matthew asked. “I just . . . but they don’t have wings. How did they get up there so fast?” He blinked, and suddenly he found a child trying to climb the Gryphon’s hind legs. “Anyway, yes, I did. Would you like to guess what happened to that poor Pony?”

“Well chaos magic could mean any number of things, plus there is what almost happened to Conor.” Grif shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Can you promise me that if you faceplant, you will keep the kids from harm?”

“You know me better than that,” Grif said in a serious tone, which was quite comical as one child messed with his crest.

“The lost Pony’s name was Storm Cloud. You remember that name, right?”

“Wasn’t he one of your subordinates? Second commander or something?” Grif asked.

“He was the Commander, my rank, during the time of Discord’s reign. With the snap of one paw, Discord removed the highest ranked officer in our military at the time.” He sighed. “Six months ago, my Great Uncle Scott passed away.” He rubbed his muzzle. “I am just going to out and out say it.” He sighed again. “The two are one and the same. My adopted great uncle is Commander Storm Cloud. Do you know the headache I am going to have when that comes out? The number of requests to create nobles from his descendents? The requests for pilgrimage to his grave?”

“Look at it this way. You got a rare opportunity to know one of Equestria’s war heroes personally after he supposedly died. Do you have any idea how many historians would have sold their souls, just to get that chance?”

“He was my hero growing up,” Matthew said sadly. “Both here and in Equestria.” Lunar Fang put a consoling wing on her husband and nuzzled him gently.

“All right, boys, that’s enough talking about warping space and time and traveling between dimensions. We have a party to get to.” Ethan, Matthew’s father, glanced nervously at the uneasy looks from the other parents. “Also, I think it might be best to have the kids not riding on an armored, predatory, ancient . . . mythical . . . being. . . .” He trailed off and shook his head. “When did our lives get so crazy?”

“You think your lives are crazy? Try fighting a Minotaur head-on.” Grif chuckled. “Okay. Everybody off.”

Somehow, little Elizabeth had managed to climb all the way up to Grif’s neck, and clung to it fiercely. “No. I want to fly. I want to fly!”

“Come on, Elizabeth, honey, come to mommy. Let’s not annoy your uncle’s friend too much.”

“NO!” She shrieked as she did her best to slap her mother’s hands away, then wrapped her arms firmly around Grif’s neck in true fussy child fashion. “Fly!” Her face began to turn red as tears started to form in her eyes.

“Get on,” Grif instructed as he looked at Rachel. “And keep her steady.”

Rachel looked confused, and more than a little frightened, but Mark just smiled as he approached and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, even as he held a camera in the other. “Don’t worry. I’m sure if we have Uncle Matthew fly underneath, it’ll be fine. You can catch things, right, Matthew?”

“Sure.” Matthew shrugged. “I can act as a net.” He looked to Lunar Fang. “Come on. This will be a lot easier than Moon River’s trying to fly out the tower window.”

She nodded and grinned. “Don’t worry, Rachel. Grif is a great godfather. He won’t let anything harm her. If anything were to happen, we’d be there to take care of it.”

Rachel stared in utter confusion and disbelief at the laughter as Mark and Ethan joined in. “You’re all insane!”

“No. We’re just professionals,” Grif said. “You really don’t have to worry, Ma’am.” He gently grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him as Mark helped her on. “Legs go here and here,” he instructed. “The skin under the feathers on my neck is loose, so don’t worry about grabbing onto it. Keep the little one close to your chest and sitting down, and breathe. I’ll make this short and smooth. No sudden tricks. Just a straight flight.”

Matthew smiled. “Sure. We can beat you all to the party.” He looked back at the others. “We’ll give you the time to get into the cars and start driving. Oh, and could one of you put one of those . . . video cameras? . . . around my neck? I don’t want to miss out on my little Liz’s first flight.”

“She’s already–”

“Not like this, Mark. This is real flying. No tin tube with jokes for wings.” Soon a GoPro camera was around his neck, and the trio of vans left. “Okay, Grif. Let’s go. Straight as the Thestral flies.”

Grif spread his wings out fully. As a Gryphon, his wingspan reached nearly twice the size of Matthew’s. The air around him reverberated as he began to flap. It took him a few tries to get the necessary power to lift off the ground, especially since he had two passengers, but once he did, he ascended quickly, until he hovered a full twenty feet off the ground. “Everything okay back there?” he asked.

Matthew and Lunar Fang both took up wingman positions. “Yeah, we’re all okay,” Matthew answered, even as Elizabeth giggled with excitement and Rachel clung to his neck for dear life. “The air just feels… off. More… dead, I suppose,” he said in Equish.

“You take point, Pensword. You know the way, and Lunar Fang is quick enough, if anything happens,” Grif said.

“Roger. And Grif, it’s Matthew while we’re here. My family knows me better by that name, and besides, it’s good to actually be Matthew again, even if it is only in deed, if not in form.” Matthew smiled as he increased his altitude, then banked to the side. They followed the road for a time, until they caught sight of a large stone building. “There's the county jail. Lunar Fang and I will be spending an hour from midnight to one tonight to appease my crazy aunt. It seems getting married a thousand years ago in another world still counts as eloping in her book.” He chuckled as he recalled her outburst after she’d had time to process the news. “Further down the road will be the newer part of town, with the two manor apartments. Then we’ll hit Education Road. The auditorium is the big flat white building. We’ll land in the field in back, and walk into the rear doors onto the gym floor.”

“Roger. But seriously? She’s making that big a deal of it, even though it was an official ceremony with the only family you, as Matthew, had left in the world, and handled by a reigning monarch in one of the most lavish war weddings in recorded history?” Grif asked with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“Yes. With a reproduction copy of the painting of the wedding. This is why we call her Crazy Aunt Strickland.” He laughed. “However, it does help the museum, so I will give them two bits and a tiny ruby as my ‘fine.’”

“Well at least coming here won’t be boring. Oh, and you can inform your little ones tomorrow. No rides until after I finish my workout, okay?” Grif said. “I know I doomed myself there, after I let them climb on me earlier.”

“I’ll do my best. If anything, you will have them watching you, or trying to mimic you.” He sighed. “They did that this afternoon when they whined about not having the same ‘cool armor’ that I do. Honestly, what happened to a good old-fashioned armor blacksmith? I need to hire one. This town could really use it, and cloud towers. . . .” He frowned. “Grif, I think I want to fortify my town, make it so Fort Knox looks like a pill box by comparison. With two supposedly magical creatures visiting here, it might become a target. We need to keep it safe.”

“And? In case you forgot, your talking to the guy who made his clan compound an impenetrable fortress,” Grif said pointedly. “Besides, I don’t think River would appreciate it if you left this place without interesting things to crawl on.”

“I will do my best.” He paused. “SHOOT!” He flicked his wings to halt in the air before flapping to hover and searching around the area. At last his eyes rested on a fluffy cloud, and he immediately darted towards it.

“Oh, right. He offered to let the kids play with a cloud,” Lunar Fang said as she struggled to hold back the fit of giggles at her husband’s antics.

They soon got back on course, with Matthew pushing a much more solid-looking cloud. A grin had overtaken his muzzle. “Right. First things first. We’ll commandeer the fire towers as watchtowers, and build up security gates on Draw Bridge Road.”

“Might be wiser to let Lunar Fang take the cloud down, Matthew,” Grif noted.

“Okay, but why?” Matthew ask as the two switched positions. He coughed a little, then whipped his hoof on his armor. Even without the sudden sensation against his fur, he heard the sound of wet fibers shifting beneath the metal plates. His eyes widened, but he did his best to maintain his course.

“We’re stitched together by thaumic energy, and it takes thaumic energy to resupply our magic here. Use too much power, and you’ll come apart at the seams.”

“That isn’t good.” Matthew shuddered. “Sombra?” he asked as he took a few breaths. It slowly grew easier as he glided along the thermals and caught his breath again.

“You remember when you blocked that mace with your chest?” Grif asked, and then waved his claw in a violent gesture.

“Internal damage. . . . Of course.” Matthew shuddered. “Also, remember you have a rather innocent child on your back.”

Grif looked behind him to find that, thankfully, Elizabeth was too distracted by the wind and the thrill of flying in the open air. Rachel, however, was another story. She looked sadly at Matthew. “Is this true?”

Matthew nodded grimly. “Yes, it is. This power is keeping me alive.”

“I’m sorry,” Grif said. “Still, the facts are what they are. We should hold off on using magic too much. It’s not good for us.”

“I agree. Just . . . I don’t want little Liz knowing her big uncle got big boo boos during the wars, alright?” Matthew asked. “Tonight, we’re giving out all the gifts Lunar Fang and I brought from Equestria. We’ll be going over the war and everything else later with the FBI. I heard that the Director himself is meeting us tonight at ten, after all the kids are in bed. If you are willing, I would like you to be there.”

“I’ve always got your back,” Grif said with a nod. “How far off are we?”

“See the spotlights that just went live? That is our destination,” Matthew answered with a grin. “Strange. There’s no snow yet. We always had snow this time of year before. I guess that means the blizzard is going to be bad for Halloween.”

“It will come,” Grif said knowingly. “It’s in the air.”

“I agree, but it feels strange.”

As they landed, once again, they were swarmed by total strangers and confusion. The cops were called; Sheriff and deputies showed up, including one of Matthew’s cousins; talks were given; statements taken. A shouting match about hoaxes and property followed. A mean adult found his face in the cloud, which he said felt surprisingly like cotton: a soft, breathable cotton. An hour later, Matthew, Lunar Fang, and Grif were finally able to just enjoy the party, while young Elizabeth joyfully related her experience on Grif’s back as they flew.

“That,” Matthew began, sounding winded and tired. “That was annoying. I was half surprised the military didn’t show up.”

“We’ve had worse on a Tuesday, any Tuesday. And given Tue– oh no!” Grif stopped.

“What? It’s Saturday,” Matthew responded

“Yes, it’s Saturday here, but it’s Sunday in Equestria. Pensword, when we get back, it will be Tuesday!”

“Oh no.” Matthew face hoofed. “I am going to be wearing my armor and wing blades. Be ready for anything.”

“What’s wrong with going back?” Mark asked.

Robert, who was wearing a Solar Guard mock up, while his twin wore Lunar Guard armor from the show, looked at each other. “Uh, in the show, disasters usually happen on Tuesdays in Ponyville.”

“How can they get that one fact right?” Matthew yelled.

“A broken clock is right twice a day,” Grif quipped.

“Yeah, but you were Scottish, I was Australian, and Hammer was Russian. We had . . . look, the episodes are horribly messed up, if they got those characters wrong. I am banning any episodes being brought back.”

“But . . . but what about the plunder vines?” Robert asked with a worried expression on his face.

“Fiction. Do you truly think Princess Luna would be captured by Discord?” He snorted derisively.

“All right, that’s enough.” Mark stepped forward to get between them. “You two have been going at it for the last couple of hours.”

“Well at least it's nice outside,” Matthew grumbled.

“Nice? Do you know how chilly it is here?” Robert cried out.

“I am covered in fur, with armor used to fly in the sky at cloud level,” Matthew responded. “I am literally built for colder weather conditions.”

“Oh,” came the universal response.

---

Shawn rolled his shoulders as he made his way home. He’d chosen to walk and take in the sights of his old home town. He could faintly remember the layout of things: old roads he use to travel, shortcuts to avoid traffic. He even remembered what street his old house was on. How strange it was to remember all these simple things. Most people would think he was insane to have forgotten them. Most people didn’t know insanity until they’d been to Ponyville on a Tuesday.

He focused more on his thoughts and the sights than audio as his ears constantly picked up on the rumble of car engines passing in either direction. He turned down his street and followed the path towards his old home from before the family had moved, only to be stopped by a small crowd of individuals surrounding a burning house.

“Isn’t that . . . ?” he wondered out loud for a moment, before realising he was, in fact, standing in front of his old house. “Well then. . . .”

“Stand back. Please, stand back,” a police officer ordered as folks jostled about on the sidewalk. Many were recording the events with their phones, and he noticed one man had a normal camera pointing at things before he remembered that cameras could record as well in this world. One man ran up with an actual digital film recorder.

‘Well, it looks like they have everything under control,’ he thought to himself as he fought the urge to step in. “I’m sure they have it perfectly under wraps.”

After a moment, he exhaled and began walking around the crowd. ‘It’s fine. It’s fine. Don’t get involved. Just blend in . . . as best as you can in a dress shirt, vest–’

A blood-curdling scream tore him out of his thoughts as his head jerked towards the building. ‘They might have it covered?’

He noted that the firefighters weren’t making their way into the building, but seemed to be pulling out as the flames shot higher and burned hotter. They had grown too unruly to control.

‘Blend in, I said. Don’t stand out, I said!’ he thought to himself, even as he made his way towards the building and past the crowd. ‘Damn it,’ he swore.

“Sir. Stay back. They have everything under control–” the officer was cut off as Shawn gently moved him out of the way, pushing the barrier aside with little effort.

This time, a firefighter in full gear tried to stop him. “Stay back! The fire is too dangerous. The floor’s about to collapse.”

Yet again, Shawn simply pushed past the man and the others that tried to stop him, easily pushing them aside with his strength. His pace picked up as he shoved his way into the building, the heat having no effect on him as he moved through the crumbling walls while the supports crackled and creaked in protest against the flames. He braced himself and let the sounds pour through again, listening for any indication that would help point out where the person he’d heard was located.

First, he tried the open rooms on the landing. He couldn’t risk pushing into the closed rooms, or he could make things worse, either giving the flames more fuel, or worse, taking away from the building’s structural stability. He couldn’t feel the temperature of handles with his natural immunity, and he couldn’t see if there was more smoke exiting the rooms with all the smoke already hanging in the air. There were too many variables working against his senses.

Time was running short as he noticed the noises he’d first heard had stopped. Whoever had cried out may have passed out due to lack of oxygen. He doubled his pace as he nearly started to run through the house, until he met a familiar flight of stairs. The wood would be able to hold his weight for now, but the floor upstairs would be structurally weaker. The fireman had said so before he’d entered. Despite that risk, Shawn made his way up, and began searching one room at a time. He grew more frustrated with every second that passed. Each room was empty, and without the crying, there was no way to identify which closed door the person might be behind. He was running out of time.

He nearly growled as he focused on the fires around him and throughout the building. The aspectual energy was only growing. There was no way to sense where the person could be at this rate. At that moment, he decided to take a risk, and began pulling at the energy in the flames, bringing it from its current form into raw energy, and solidifying it in front of him.

Grasping the red crystal as it formed, he could feel the fires grow dull and sputter to nothing. He exhaled heavily, pocketing the crystal as he began feeling the aspects around him once more. With the fires finally gone, he could get a better feel for the thaumic energies in the environment without the smothering effect of the flame aspect. It took a moment, but he was happy to feel life force, the victus aspect. Whomever had screamed, that person was alive. Unconscious, but still alive. Honing in on that aspect, he swiftly made his way across the floor, surprised to find that it did indeed still hold his weight. The door had been darkened by the flames, but had not succumbed to the fires yet. After testing the knob, he easily opened the door and stared.

There, inside the room, a little boy lay pinned beneath a fallen toy shelf. That was likely the cause of his sudden scream of terror, and would explain why he had fallen silent. A stream of blood trickled from the place where he’d been struck as the unit fell. Shawn quickly took note of the bruising that had begun to form along the arms. He’d need to be careful in case any bones had been broken, but the most important thing was getting this kid out of the building first. He could already smell the smoke starting to build again. The flames were reclaiming their fuel from the embers, and slowly beginning to consume.

He could faintly hear conversations outside questioning what was going on as he easily removed the shelf and gently probed the boy’s body for any breaks. He sighed in relief as he found no signs. “You are lucky, boy,” he muttered. “Congratulations.”

Shawn scooped the boy up like he would a handful of sand, and cradled him in his arms as he navigated back down the stairs and through the heat of the flames to the entrance. A few stray beams and debris had piled up in front of the door, but he was able to deal with it easily as he shoved one concussive boot against the obstacle, causing it to burst apart. The cool air brushed against his face as he carried the boy away from the site and towards the EMS workers on standby, even as the fire fighters leaped on the opportunity to smother the significantly reduced flames.

The crowd of spectators who had gathered stood staring at Shawn, dumbfounded. After a very long awkward silence, someone finally broke out with a cheer. In an instant, the noise became deafening as the crowd positively roared for Shawn.

Shawn’s eye twitched. The sudden noise hurt his ears. Looking to the emergency response team, he held the young boy, and offered his limp form to them. “Don’t remember much for medical help. He’s alive, but needs to be looked over.”

The worker nodded as she handed the boy to one of her partners, then turned back to Shawn. “They’ll take care of him. A little oxygen, and he should hopefully come around. We’ll know better after we’ve gotten him to the hospital. In the meantime, I need to take a look at you. You leapt into a blazing fire, and . . . how are your clothes not even singed?”

“Specially made material.”

She raised a brow. “Well, at the very least, I need to check your lungs. It doesn’t look like you suffered any other injuries.” She placed a stethoscope to Shawn’s chest and moved it about as she listened to him breathe. She frowned. “It sounds like you’ve got some fluid in your lungs. We’ll need to take you back to the hospital for more tests. Your skin isn’t looking too good either.”

“I’m fine. Just soot. Possibly even some fragments of wood and stone.”

“You could have scarring in your lungs, not to mention airborne particles. If we don’t get you looked at, you could die in a matter of hours. Like it or not, you’re taking a ride with us.”

“Nah. I’ve dealt with worse. Trust me. A little fire isn’t going to kill me.” Shawn chuckled at the thought.

She fixed him with a glare that would even give Celestia pause. “You are going to sit there, these firemen are going to watch you sit there, and I am getting you an ambulance to ride. Your lungs aren’t good, and you’re turning paler by the minute, which means you’re likely bleeding internally. That means I have a medical justification to detain you, so sit down, shut up, and don’t try to run.” She snapped her head up. “Luke, Bill, keep him here. John, keep those cameras away.”

Shawn watched two firemen walk over to keep an eye on him. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he thought to some of his research. It had mentioned the possibility of consuming aspects though liquid means for temporary enhancement, but what would happen with consumption of a crystallized aspect? If he could do it, that is. Sure, he had the strength, but this was biting into what was essentially the equivalent of a gemstone. A highly volatile, explosive gemstone. . . . Great.

“How does somebody walk into a fire like that, and not come out with a single burn?” Luke, the taller of the two asked. His mask and tank had been removed to reveal sweaty dirty blond hair that had been combed back over his head. His green eyes looked curiously at their temporary ward, before returning his focus on his companion.

Bill simply shrugged. His hair was a short brown cropped buzz cut with a flat top. His thicker eyebrows and bulging neck hinted at the the musculature that hid beneath all the fireman’s gear he still had on. “Heck if I know.”

“I simply developed a natural resistance to fire,” Shawn replied as he reached into his coat, breaking off a small chip of the fire crystal, while being careful not to crack the core. After a brief moment of additional debate, he popped it into his mouth. It faintly reminded him of some sort of spice. Then again, it might just be that it was raw heat in a solid form. He was pleasantly surprised to find he could feel some energy returning to him. His field was absorbing the crushed form of the crystal through his body. That would definitely be something to add to the book later.

“What the heck are you?” Luke asked with wide eyes as the pair watched Shawn’s body change right before their eyes. Shawn’s skin had become less pale, and his breathing more steady.

“A guy with abnormal traits compared to most people.” Shawn shrugged as he popped another shard in his mouth, crunching it. “I’d offer you a piece, but I’m pretty sure nobody here could handle it,” he finished with a chuckle. ‘That, and I’m pretty sure it would kill you,’ he thought to himself.

“Yeah. I’m going to look over here now,” Bill said, turning away.

Shawn crunched on the last bit of the crystal, feeling his energy return enough to perhaps make an . . . interesting escape. It was obvious he was going to be followed if he just walked his way out of the area. After a moment he stood up from his seat, stretching before he looked for a viable location to try his experiment.

“Hey. The nurse said sit down,” Luke said as he reached out to restrain Shawn. Not that he actually could succeed, even if he wanted to.

“I know. I’m just moving to some shade,” Shawn replied with a small grin as he made his way towards a tree. He ignored the response as he stepped into the shade. Taking a breath, he focused on the lunar magic within him. “Sorry, gentlemen, but this is where we part ways.”

“What the fu–?” The Firefighters both shouted in horror as they stepped back. Shawn had disappeared into the tree’s shadow before their very eyes.

“. . . Did you see that?” Luke asked.

“I didn’t see anything. Did you see anything?” Bill asked.

“Nope.”

“Then we’re agreed.”

“Yup.”

“Good. Dibs on not telling Michelle what happened.”

Luke gaped. “You son of a–!”

Shawn smiled as he stepped out of the shade next to his home. He could feel a faint pain in his chest as he coughed up the congealed blood to clear his lungs. “Gah! Delightful. . . . Too much energy.”

He frowned as he made his way inside, finding his parents, uncle, and a new guest.

“. . . Gramma?”

---

Matthew sat down in his padded chair as he looked through the cushy city council room. The room held no windows, and was lit by a series of track lights in the ceiling. The long, oval table stretched on, seating each of the individuals for this meeting with plenty of room to spare. As a surprise, the children had taken the liberty of decorating the room to look like a treehouse with a familiar wooden shield that sat behind the agent and other government officials. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the CMC logo, which reminded him of the time he spent handing out the gifts for his entire family less than thirty minutes ago. Grif sat in the corner, balancing a stiletto on his talons. He had deigned not to join the main conversation.

“So, you are Director Jon.” Matthew looked to the right. “As well as the representative for Diplomatic agreements, Miss. . .?”

“Miss Fletcher,” the woman responded. Her coppery hair had been tied up into a tight bun and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. Her slim black dress highlighted her hourglass figure and accentuated the impression of her rigid formality. “Appointed by the president this morning.”

‘Good to see you again, Miss Fletcher.” Agent Umbridge smiled sickeningly sweetly at her from her place across the table.

“Of course, Agent Umbridge.” Miss Fletcher slid her glasses up her nose. Now what was this about new foreign relations?”

Agent Green looked to his Director before settling down as Matthew pushed the first scroll forward.

“I have letters of introduction placing my credentials and status as a high level rank within the kingdom of Equestria.” Then he pushed forward a small bundle of scrolls. “These are letters of greeting from Princesses Twilight; Celestia, the High Chieftess of all Thestrals, Princess Luna; and this last one is from the Queen of the Crystal Empire, Mi Amore Cadenza.” He paused as he saw a few suspicious looks directed to the corner where Grif was still playing with the knife. “Grif is a friend of the crown. Consider him like you would a guard for my protection. I am meeting on your soil in your land, after all.”

Grif looked at them and proceeded to mimic the cries of an emu.

“Yes. Well … lets hope for no more surprises, okay, dear?” Umbridge said, eyeing Grif warily.

“I cannot promise anything,” Matthew answered with a completely straight face.

“You said before that this nation currently has no way of communicating with our world,” Director Jon said. “So if I might ask, why did your leaders have these documents prepared?”

“So that when communications are opened up, we can get right to trade deals or just exchange ideas and cultural papers, things to help learn about one another and the like.” He chuckled. “And to give one of the newly-crowned princesses the chance to spearhead leading a diplomatic effort.” He shuddered as he recalled the hours Twilight spent sending him letters or showing up to talk to him while he was visiting Ponyville. That mare may have grown somewhat as a leader, but she was still pretty nervous. “I also have these. It is an agreement that we won’t harm your citizens, and you won’t harm our citizens, as well as just a formal agreement saying that we wish to open friendly relations when we can maintain more steady communications.”

Lunar Fang remained silent as she tended to the box of scrolls. Her eyes focused on Fletcher and Umbridge.

“I see. And according to the report I received, the name of your nation is … Equestria?” Miss Fletcher asked. “And this one entity known as Queen Cadence also rules in another country called the Crystal Empire? Is there some more formal name to it we should be aware of?”

“Those are correct. Those are the correct English words.” He smiled, but inwardly, was a little saddened that he couldn’t say more.

“And these letters of yours. They’re written in your people's language?”

“Well, first, that would be rude. You wouldn’t know what you would be signing for one thing. The other is that one of our princesses wanted to try to write English.” He nodded to Lunar Fang. “However, we do have these copies in our native language, so you can compare and translate.”

Director Jon looked to Fletcher. “I do believe, Miss Fletcher, that protocol says their language is their own, until such a time as their leaders greenlight them to hand it over to us.”

“This is the greenlight from Princess Twilight, seeing as she has already translated one tenth of her library to English. She wishes to gift you the chance for knowledge, learning and growth.” He handed a scroll to Director Jon. “This is a translation of English into our language.”

“The Global Accords dictate we’ll have to alert the rest of the nations of this development as well. Will you and your party be staying long?” Fletcher asked.

Matthew shook his head. “This was, for me, a . . . farewell and a hello, as you might have been told.” He looked at Director Jon. “I have duties and tasks I must carry out for my nation. I will be leaving in the next day or two.” He smiled and nodded to Lunar Fang. She pulled a rather thick scroll from the pile. “This is a scroll the princesses have drawn up in your language to designate the human Conor Ignus Vulpes as the Equestrian representative. After a regrettable incident brought him to our kingdom, it is our wish for him to live a normal life as much as he can. We believe he should be home with his family again by now, and seeing as he is the only human to remain human … so to speak, who has been to Equestria, he will be the only expert on our kingdom and our world. He will be the one you will wish to talk to about these global accords.”

“You designated a human from our country as your ambassador?”

“Not our ambassador; yours. At least until he can train the one appointed by your president. Due to the fact that he has lived in the land, eaten our food, fought in a Changeling attack, met our rulers, and made friends with our people, he knows the land and culture better than anyone could understand from the records I am leaving with you today. I wish in no way to step on your toes. We just know that knowledge about our lands will be scarce, and this will speed things up. Considering his personal knowledge, he is the most qualified for the position.”

“Based on what little we know of your–” she cleared her throat “–culture, I assume he was treated very well.”

“He was, and some might say still is. I just hope the culture shock isn’t too much,” Matthew replied with a coy smile.

“Then, Commander Pensword, on behalf of the United States government, we thank you for these documents, and will inform your rulers at a later date of our nation’s and our world’s decision in these matters.” Fletcher extended a hand.

Matthew stood up on the chair and reached forward, bumping his hoof to her hand. He smiled, but inside, he was nervous. This meeting was going far too smoothly. If this was Canterlot, there would have been concessions asked, or demanded. Earth was tougher than those nobles. “I understand. I hope that, when I visit again, you will have an answer.” He frowned. “Please read the scroll with the red silk and the yellow, blue, and red seals. That will inform you of what to do if something happens out of our control.” He moved back to sitting at the table. “Just back up plans. For anything that might rock the boat.”

“And theoretically, you and your people are here illegally right now.” Fletcher fished out three little blue leather books with a golden seal on them. “These are passports. You’ll be able to use them for when you enter into the country. And if you open the covers, you’ll find temporary visas and a diplomatic identification.”

Matthew’s eye twitched. It took Matthew two months of paperwork and waiting to get his passport, and here he was, an alien, a pony no less, getting one in less than two days. “Thank you.” He felt just slightly offended, but he chalked it up to one of necessity and ignorance, rather than one of intent.

The humans, two Ponies, and one Gryphon bade each other goodnight, and the meeting ended with a surprise win, and rather smooth opening. Matthew knocked a hoof against the wooden door frame on the way out. He nodded to Grif and Lunar Fang as he prepared for his hour long “punishment” from his aunt.

---

Conor sighed as he looked over the handful of bits and gems he’d brought back from Equestria. Now all they’d be good for was sentimental value, and maybe cashing in for some money at college, if he was even still registered at college anymore. He shook his head.

“What a mess.”

He put the precious gems and gold coins back in their little pouch, and tied it up before returning to his chat room. Since his reappearance on the web, he’d gotten quite the stir from many an old friend. It felt good to be able to have contact with them again, and reassure them that he was okay. In relationships like these, a common love and trust felt important to him, and he was glad that, despite his long absence, his friends were willing to forgive him and move on. The writing and roleplaying proved a welcome release from the stress of the decision he knew he would inevitably have to make soon. If only there were a way to choose both. Sadly, he knew there wasn’t. When he had finished for the time being, he pulled out the sack again and made his way downstairs. He should probably get this over with now. And besides, after all that they’d done for him, they probably deserved it more than he did.

He found them seated in their usual places, his mother atop two extra pillows in an armchair while his father sat on the couch with his feet up on the ottoman. As usual, his sister had sequestered herself in her room to accomplish school work and other important assignments.

“Mom, Dad, you guys still have the mortgage to pay off, right?” Conor asked as he took his seat on one end of the couch. He kept the pouch carefully secured between both hands.

“Where did that question come from?”

“Please, Dad, just a yes or no. Do you or don’t you?”

“Yes, we’re still making payments. What’s this all about, Conor?” Conor’s mother asked as she looked up from her puzzle work on her ipad.

“I want to help you pay it all off here and now. It’s the least I can do after everything I’ve put you through with all this.”

“That’s sweet and all, Conor, but–”

“Mom, with all due respect, please save it, no pun intended.” Conor undid the string around the bundle and emptied it onto the cushion between him and his father. Fifteen thick gold coins and five perfectly formed uncut gems toppled onto the cushion: one emerald, one sapphire, one ruby, one amethyst, and a curiously pale pink stone.

“. . . Where did you get all of this?”

“Equestria is rich with natural resources. This? This is hardly anything over there, enough to take care of some basic shopping and buy a meal at dinner.” He held up a coin. “This is a bit. It’s essentially the equivalent of about five to twenty dollars over there. Over here, I’m sure it’s worth a lot more.”

“Conor, these are worth a small fortune,” Conor’s dad said. “You should invest them in your–”

Conor held up a hand and immediately headed his father off. “My money, my choice. I’ll hold on to anything that’s left after we’ve paid off the house.”

“Conor–”

“I mean it, Dad. There’s enough here to probably pay off a big chunk of the house and still have enough left over for me to save for college. We’ll get them weighed and appraised, and then we can sell them.”

“And if we refuse?”

“I’m not budging this time. Worst case scenario, I’ll withdraw the funds and leave the cash on your pillows or someplace else instead. You’ve been paying for me for so long. Let me help return the favor.”

“And you won’t budge at all?”

“I won’t.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to see who blinks first,” Conor’s dad said with a playful smirk.

“How about we just stick with getting them appraised first?”

“Fair enough.”

---

“No, Gramma, I will not be bringing back a fifty caliber rifle.” Shawn frowned, though he wouldn’t admit he really wanted to bring one back.

“I swear, one minute you enjoy having the rifle, and when I finally offer one to you, you refuse.” Shawn’s grandma furrowed her wrinkled brow. Her wispy hair was done up in a bun, and, while white, was still full and strong. Her eyes were steel-green, made bigger by the large glasses she wore. She dressed comfortably in a T-shirt with the second amendment on the front, a pair of jeans, and steel toe work boots. Her arms were crossed, and if the signs of grease on her fingers was any indication, she still worked out and worked her trade.

“The most advanced firearm they have is the flintlock pistols I made!”

“And why did you stop there?”

“Because they aren’t ready for anything worse, nor do I even need worse.”

“So, you’re saying they only use melee weapons, lad?” Andre cut in.

“Pretty much. Well, except for a few ranged weapons, such as throwing weapons, crossbows, bows, etcetera.”

“Bet that’s a business that thrives, then,” Andre chuckled.

“Not as much as you would expect, actually,” Shawn replied after a moment of thought. “Well, it used to. Current times, though, are more . . . peaceful.”

“What? They don’t constantly supply their military?”

“They don’t really have a military at the moment. It’s more or less a small guard.”

Andre stared blankly at Shawn for a few moments before letting out a, “Well that’s stupid.”

“Yeah. We’re trying to fix that,” Shawn sighed.

“Well, if you raised their current rulers, and you’re some kinda king or something, why not just make it happen?”

“That’s not how it works. Plus, it isn’t exactly common knowledge.”

“What? You’re king, but you aren’t?”

“You think I want to deal with annoying nobility?”

“. . . That would probably suck.”

“Yeah, and I’d be doing it day in and day out.”

“Yeah, that would cut into your project times.”

His grandmother interjected. “Well, are you at least successful in this new world? Do you enjoy what you do, or is it a job?”

“Well, I’m a smith primarily. I have fun with it, since I can practically do . . . anything I want, really.” Shawn shrugged. “In all honesty, I could retire from this point on, and still have a fortune to give to my children.”

Andre sighed as he stood up from the couch. “All right. I need to get going. I’ve got work in the morning, and I ain’t gettin’ paid if I don’t finish it. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Shawn replied with a smile as he realized what time it was. His grandmother was going to spend the next week in town visiting, before heading back home. His other relatives and siblings couldn’t make it out, and had resorted to messages back and forth between his parents using skype or texts.

---

Ten miles out from New Unity, behind the cover of the Everfree Forest, the night air was silent as the ground began to rustle, stone began to shake, and, before long, the earth itself began to ripple before it burst open as a Changeling pulled itself from the fresh hole. With quick synchronized movements, he worked with his sibling inside the tunnel to widen and reinforce it. Soon other holes appeared in the ground, and the Changelings began to widen them. In a matter of minutes, the holes had been properly broadened and shored up. An ominous rumble sounded from within the caves, followed by a loud buzz. Suddenly, a flurry of activity filled the air as the holes literally erupted with Changeling after Changeling. The cloud separated into squadrons and platoons as drones and praetorians landed in organized rank and file.

This process continued for the next three hours as the troops bulked in large rectangular formations. Then came the real reason for the holes’ expansion. Massive, bulky Changelings with thick chiton and longer fangs buzzed and hissed fiercely as they flew out one after the other and collected in each formation in rows of ten.

Finally the flow ebbed. A scant few hours before dawn, the last of the terrible army emerged. Once again, a dread silence fell over the clearing. All were ordered, all were perfect, all were calm, all were one. Then a loud screech sounded as a chariot pulled by two more of these behemoths emerged from the largest of the tunnels. Chrysalis stared triumphantly, and laughed to herself as her faithful servants pulled her chariot to the front of the army. Her horn and eyes glowed as she sent the order through the hive mind, and as one, they began their march.

“I’m coming for you, Hammer Strike. What a pity for you that so many will have to die.” She laughed malevolently as they passed through the tree line and into the forest proper like a well-oiled machine.

---

The night was overcast, casting a collective shadow over the Everfree as the torchlight flickered and cast their orbs of light around the castle and Gryphon compound. Silver Spear was making his way to the tower stairs, having just been relieved from his shift on the castle battlements for the night. He hummed to himself as he let his imagination roam, thinking of the warm sheets and the pleasant meal that awaited him after a refreshing sleep. Another night on the job, another set of recruits shaping up for a bright future in the guard.

That pleasant sensation lasted for all of about three seconds, when, quite suddenly, something dropped in front of him off the cold stone wall above the tower door. The figure was the same color as the stones it had been standing on for a moment before it faded to the black and green of Hammer Strike’s Changeling guard. It trembled fearfully. “Pony! You must warn the others. She’s coming! The queen is coming!”

Silver Spear froze. He looked at the Changeling’s wide eyes, the fear it radiated. These troops had not proven their allegiance yet, but at the same time, they feared the Changeling queen more than any other, save perhaps for Hammer Strike himself. If Chrysalis were to find them, she would kill them without a single thought, and they knew it.

Silver Spear lit up his horn and blasted an explosive charge of magic over the top of the castle. “BATTLESTATIONS!” he roared. “WE HAVE INBOUND!” The security bells tolled, and the shriek of the watchers in the Gryphon compound ensured the warriors would be prepared for the battle to come. At least that was some comfort. He looked at the drone as the sound of running hooves and slamming helmets echoed through the halls of the castle, and troops raced to the armory to gear up while the reserves raced along the battlements to man the defenses.

He whipped to the Changeling faster than a person could blink. “You. With me. You can brief me on the way.” They raced down the halls together as Silver Spear made his way to the armory to oversee the mobilization. “Details! What can you tell me?”

The Changeling’s wings buzzed anxiously as it flew as fast as it could. “The four of us sensed a massive hive mind heading towards us. It’s … terrifyingly huge, a swarm even greater than when we first invaded Canterlot. And at its head … one does not forget the mind of Chrysalis easily, even when one has been severed from the hive. Her thirst for vengeance and power are easy to feel. Perhaps she is not aware that we still live. We do not know; however, we can get the impression of the size of their numbers from the size of the hive mind. She must have found a new source of love to consume, because their network is large enough to number in the thousands.”

Silver Spear nodded his head as he ran into Moon Biter. “I need you to get letters to the two Princesses and the Thestrals on leave. And get troops moving here. We need to get an evacuation notice out to Ponyville as well. Start pulling civilians into the citadel and keep, and send a flyer to the Bladefeather compound to assess their preparation and numbers.”

Then he turned to the Changeling. “Get one of your fellow drones to put Me-Me’s hive on alert, then muster at the walls. We have a lot of preparation to do, and not much time to do it in.”

The Changeling’s eyes flashed. “The message is sent. The queen who was not queen shall be alerted.”

“Good. Now get to that wall and rally the troops. Help as many Ponies as you can, and let us know if you sense any change in the hive mind’s activity. Fly, you foal!”

The Changeling buzzed off as quickly as its wings could carry it.

“Faust help us all,” Silver Spear muttered to himself as he made his way to command central. It was time for the council to meet and decide on a united strategy.

Comments

[stapart]

“Faust help us all,” Silver Spear muttered to himself as he made his way to command central. It was time for the council to meet and decide on a united strategy.

Now I have a strange feeling that the whole policy about "not for the earthly technology in Equestria" just flew out the window.
For me, it's good I was always for Magitech/Technomancy (because Harmony)

[Sulpher]

Well then,
Maybe Shawn will take a .380? Or will he take the fifty just for that queen bitch?
Who knows, cause we all care.
Good job authors, nice chapter, I got my mention of a rifle, that could be both semi-automatic (Barrett .50 cal) or bolt action (Bushmaster BA50) or any other model I haven't named.

[Vital Spark]

7789125

Hello, GordonFreebrony, I'm Vital Spark, the head editor for Extended Holiday. I'm glad you're enjoying the fiction so far. To answer your questions from earlier, yes, in the beginning the group simply smashed their writing styles together, and were rather disjointed. They did gradually improve as the chapters progressed, and, eventually, they got me on board to edit and revise their chapters. Right now, I'm working to edit both the current chapters coming out, and I'm working to revise the original ones. Once I've revised enough of the original chapters, we'll make sure to replace the originals, which should make for a much smoother reading experience for you and anyone else that finds our little fic.

As for your claims about armor, you actually do have some rather interesting points that I'll have to bring up with the writers, though I believe that these smiths are skilled enough to be able to create the kinds of armor that a human would need in order to adapt, considering they are the royal smiths, and one of them happens to be a Unicorn, which means she can enchant the armor to work properly. They also took the humans in for a proper fitting, before working to craft the armor, so they likely got a good impression of their range of motion, etc. from those fittings. Those things aside, how are you enjoying the fic so far? We always like to receive feedback for improvement.

[Booster Spice]

Taze has got a real, real good selecdction of authors just to start with there. Science Fiction Fantasy covers all those questions that political correctness doesnt want people to ask, such as what happens in a world run by political correctness. Herges Bergomot or some such short story for example?

I really hope he tells Conner to have his younger brother considered for diplomatic staff, because otherwise, once the FBI forensics and US Black Departments have been through that house, that guy is going to be in for a miserable rest of life. And then theyre going to do the gun trace.

Trying to avoid people, flying south, I can understand. Except for Two minor booboos. BMEWS looking over the North Pole, but more importantly, using an unlicensed radio communication device in restricted airspace , accessing notifiable data. Fortunately it seems someone listened to 99 Red Balloons and took the warnings to heart. Otherwise things couldve got very, busy, up there.

For somne reason, Tazes ten mile search being 12 miles out seems to be so common to searches, as in the thing being looked for is spotted as a blip on the edge of detection of a final sweep or when they leave it on as theyre moving away from the area etc? Nice to see the Emblam being of help, even if the country might not so much. I take it Tazes landing is the one thats used so many times, that even Spitfire does it? Then with teh kid and demonstrations all over the place. The three days is with the three days and demonstration, if they could relax, they could make it a week, and with research, carry thaumaturgical stores with them?

Hammerstrike/Shaun having so much fun. Wondering what the relationship is between thaumic energy needed and that stored, given when he pulled The Full Arnie with teh kid in the fire, that was an awful amount of energy being moved and transformed, making me look at the similarities and differences between Equestrian gemstones, which I would think of more like saturated absorbant gel crystals than solid minerals, but holding more than just water etc. Hmm. things to consider, maximum mineral saturation of water that can be absorbed by gel without breaking it. Cant think f who does the whole into the shadows thing, well, except for Batman, but he physically moves instead of suffusing etc. Poor Bo and Luke Duke. those Duke lads are just trying to help, and Michelle/Daisy is going to give them a real slap for it.

Conner was picked up very, very quickly, but given what happened round the airfield, and the rest of the family, and his missing and return, there were some flags set in very particular systems, especially if Uncle just One Thing was transfered over without transforming over. Then again Conner knew him all those years and didnt realise so Discord mustve converted him as well. I take it that hanger is where all teh niggling undiscernable faults go to die as Cloud can really give them a working over to solve them?

Theres something going on in teh background with teh Department meeting in the CMC clubhouse. All I can assume is after so many decades interrogating and debriefing Cloud, there is an Equestrian department, if theyre lucky with one person still in it at least, kept isolated for enemy action. Might even be called Project Joker. As it states, things are going far too smoothly for something only a few hours old, its like a very well worked through and maintained machine. As for the passports, depending on the infor required, the President could effectively just sign a couple pieces of heavily prepared paper, a couple hours work for teh staff, and pass it. Personally, Id still like to know why my passport took almost exactly a full Year to get processed. Then again, my Grandads war records are still not been released under the 70 year rule. Where Operation Mincemeat has.

shaun is looking at Grandma, not wanting the 50 cal? What does she know that he doesnt yet, and is she going to compound it by bringing out the large ammo box with the Tremors Decals on it and the APIX self propelled rounds?

Because that impregnable fortress of New Unity is about to get a serious workout, and they have to survive until Tuesday for reinforcements.

Looks like Operation Zulu is underway.

[Grif_Bladefeather]

7789125 you make great points sir but if I may point something out myself? two points actually.

well it can take eons to develop something, some cultures where able to reverse engineer the advancements of others in months, by stealing examples of there new developments and adapting them too there own, the smiths here didn't have to worry about stealing anything as they where allowed full access to the humans weapons and armor.

the second point is there not actually starting from the foot of the mountain as with the existence of minotaur's and the likelihood visiting dignitaries have had to have work done in equestrian, not to mention with equestria's wealth of minerals the possibility of armor commissions. they have some idea of a similar bodies movements and capabilities, therefore it's simple modifications to what they know, not starting from scratch.

[HB_DS2013]

Wow. The quality's gone up since the last time I've read a chapter. I'm pretty sure Pipboys are waay more advanced than the tech level of Earth and Equestria combined.

[Amethyst Blade]

Welp, time to create magical version of railguns and coilguns

[smarioman64]

[youtube=https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Ua0zMsDiAyg]

I really hope this is Shaun's uncle Andre.

[Hiirome]

*Close the metaphorical book*
*Sigh*
...

EYES : After Project Horizons, I did swear to never again binge read a 1M+ fic in one go.
BRAIN : BUT I DIDN'T LISTEN ! (we seriously need this emote. XD)

Well, it was a good read, i got really attached to all the characters, especialy the incarnation of stoic OPness : Shaun. Saitama would be proud, boy.
Or maybe Saitama is crapping in its pants too, because let's face it, it's Shaun/Hammer Strike we're talking about. XD

...You know, i can't help but think, that even Shaun's death will not be his end... You know, i know i'd laugh if Shaun is the Lost Alicorn of The Forge, mentioned a long, long time ago... *sigh* Binge Reading something that big is dangerous for your memory of exact chapter placements.

More among the recent chapters (the 101 was published after the beginning of my binge reading, you gave me more, you (magnificents) bastards ! XD ) well... with the real Chekow Armory with Connor/Omni/Vital Spark's name on it, i feel already what will be his decision about Equestria... X)
Oh, and it seems our four humans will be leaving a thoroughly mind fucked earth behind them, especially on Shaun's side. Well, on Mattew's side, too, since *AHEM* Timey Wimey stuff make his family of Equestrian Blood...
I think that for them to come in time to save the Equestria against Chrysalis third assault, things will get, once again.... *sigh* Timey Wimey.

Doctor, you really need to find a new hobby. And dammit, to any other entities that can space-time travel, can you calm down on theses poor guys ?!
Ans there's still at least two times travels that aren't accounted for : the Zebrican trip, and Shaun/Hammer Strike raising Celestia and Luna... and somehow, i feel there's at least one i missed/ will be foreshadowed.

Okay, i'm complaining, and all this Timey- Wimey stuff is mindfucking me thoroughly... And i love it !
Waiting impatiently for the next chapter. ^^

[GarrusVakarian]

He checked FiMfiction.net, and was surprised to find more than a dozen stories he’d been following were finished.

Maybe when we finish off the reapers this'll be finished...