Homecoming
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TCB: Conquer the Stars
Chapter Two
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Constellation Lyra
Kepler 20-d, near orbit insertion point.
Bridge, TASS Hobbes
27th June, 2354. 0459 hours.
“Commander on bridge!”
Commander Sunrise glory floated into the bridge. The design was quite similar to the analogue on the Calvin, except it was arranged radially, around a dais where the Commander’s chair was placed, and lacked consoles. Instead, the bridge crew sat on acceleration couches, with neural uplink cables feeding them information. The level below had only a single occupant, Lieutenant Commander Marcus Maxwell, Sunrise’s Executive officer and Second-in-Command.
Sunrise returned the salute the crew had given him, and floated towards his seat, his telekinesis making this a trivial task.
He gave Marcus -a stout, strongly built fellow with a shaved head and dark skin- a nod before taking his place, the automatic harness strapping him in tightly.
“Everything okay back there, sir?” Marcus asked, his voice deep and booming.
Sunrise sighed, and held still as a robotic arm carefully parted the short hair on his mane and connected a neural interface. “A cargo container with a Normandy suit found its way in. A robot must’ve loaded it by accident. The Major was throwing a fit about it.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow, “”Normandy” suit, sir?”
“It turns the wearer, preferably a pegasus, into an Aerospace Fighter,” Sunrise explained, “watching” lines of text flash through his mind as his neural implant connected to the ship’s computer systems.
Marcus took a moment to consider this, and promptly said:
“That’s got to be the most retarded thing I’ve ever heard, sir.”
Sunrise grunted in agreement. His neural implant now connected to the fleet’s network, he checked everyone else’s status, and gave a command.
“Commence sync.”
Immediately, his vision blacked out, and was replaced with that of the ship. A combination of different forms of imaging, from stereoscopic telescopes, to gamma ray detectors, infrared telescopes, thaumatic sensors, radar and LIDAR all combined to give him an extremely detailed view of the universe around him.
He could see the planet “below” him, the sunward terminator shining a brilliant white from reflected sunlight. However, he could not reflect on its beauty. He had a job to do right now and there would be plenty of time for him to enjoy it.
He saved a snapshot into his neural implant and focused on his current task.
“Hammer units,” he called over the ship-to-ship communications lasers, “this is Anvil. Insertion burn is in t-minus one hour. All units, report status, over.”
In order, the other four ships of the fleet respond.
“This is Hammer one, everything is Oh-kay, over.”
“This is Hammer two, nothing to report, over.”
“This is Hammer three, we are good to go, over.”
“This is Hammer four, all systems are go, over.”
Satisfied with the status of the fleet, he sent another order.
“All ships, prepare for orbital insertion burn, over.”
There was the distant feeling of his physical body being subjected to a sideways jerk of acceleration as the ship’s thrusters made them turn until their stern faced their direction of travel. Another burn stopped the turn and, almost simultaneously, he received reports from the flotilla that their own manuvers had been completed successfully.
One hour later, right on schedule, five points of light, each as bright as the sun, flared into existence in the skies above the cold, icy planet. They burned for a few minutes, before they dimmed into nothingness.
No one was there to see them.
====================
Bridge, TASS Hobbes
27th June, 2354. 0505 hours.
Evening Star had never been in hypersleep before. It was a unique experience, and quite educational. For instance, it taught her that being brought out of hypersleep was the absolute worst fucking thing in the universe.
Had she anything in her stomach, she probably would’ve thrown it up along with one lung. She felt nauseous, weak, and pasty, as if some sadistic, bastardly son of a bitch had taken the concept of a hangover and given it metaphorical super-steroids. Her eyesight and hearing left quite a few things to be desired; every loud sound felt like a jackhammer being driven into her skull, and even the paltriest source of light was like some overpowered laser blaster being shone right down her face.
And no, she was not exaggerating. Much.
She coughed, dry heaved, winced from the head-busting headache those actions produced and gave a feeble, painful whinny as she curled up into a small ball.
“Help…me…”
Someone took hold of Evening, the sensation feeling numbed to her, turned her around and pressed something to her mouth. She bit into it, discovered it was a straw and subsequently discovered the delicious orange-flavored nectar of life that it produced. Holding the plastic bag that contained it in her forehoves, the mere thought of performing magic in her state giving her migraine, she sucked on it greedily, the juice greatly helping her condition.
“…You look disgustingly adorable,” Someone commented.
Evening Star blinked the bleariness out of her eyes and distinguished a blurry shape in front of her. It was something very red.
“Firebird,” she asked between slurps, “Is that you?”
“No, I’m an enormous Firebird-shaped lizard with wings,” Came the deadpan reply from the now distinctly Firebird-shaped blob, “You okay there Evenin’? As adorable as you look holding that juice, you still look like shit.”
“I feel like a rocket crashed on top of me,” Evening groaned, took a few more gulps of the strangely invigorating orange juice, and clarified, “like every hangover I ever had had come back to haunt me.”
Firebird, who could now be seen distinctly, floating above her hypersleep pod in zero gravity, winced at that comparison. Three centuries’ worth of hangovers was not something to be sneezed at.
Evening paused between gulps and looked at the transparent bag she was holding, which was distressingly close to being empty. “This juice’s got stuff in it, right?”
Firebird nodded. “Yeah,” she said, “although normally, you should be fine by now.” She made a bizarre little gesture that could be best described as shrugging with her wings, and added, “You’ve probably got some sensitivity for hypersleep, I’ll have Doc take a look at that when we get to her, but another dose shouldn’t hurt.”
Evening, who had now finished her juice, nodded feverishly.
Firebird floated off, her wings pushing her through the air. In a moment she was back, another juicebag in her artificial grip. She handed it over, and Evening gladly took it. Between gulps, a single question occurred to her.
“Fibi,” she asked, “Why orange juice?”
The augmented pegasus shrugged. “Tradition,” was her reply. “Now, get outta bed, we’ve got a space plane waiting for us.”
And with that, she flew off. Very gingerly, Evening tested her magic and undid the clasps holding her in place. They sprung open, and she floated herself out of the pod.
She looked around. The rest of the hypersleep pods -long rounded-off things with a disturbing similarity to coffins- in the long, curving, medically white two-leveled room she was in were already open and empty. She seemed to be the last one out.
Firebird was floating midway to the exit, looking at her expectantly. “Come on, hurry up!” she called.
With her telekinesis, Evening Star quickly floated her way towards her friend, soothing the building headache with more delicious, medicine-infused juice. Now that she wasn’t feeling like death would be a relief, she took a closer look at Firebird. The pegasus, while definitely in a much better condition than she was, with her mane tied up and her tail done up in a neat braid, and the ever-present uniform on, she looked extremely weary, and rather ticked off about something.
While they floated out of the room, Evening asked her if she felt alright. Firebird looked a bit confused by her question for a moment, but then laughed, and answered.
“Ah, it’s… nothing important. One of the robots must’ve accidentally loaded the wrong container, and I’m trying to figure out what was supposed to go in there.” she furrowed her brow in and muttered, “It better not be the MRE’s that are actually tasty.”
Evening giggled at Firebird’s expense. “Now I know the real reason you got those no-sleep mods. Not much of a morning person, are you?”
“No.” Firebird said, “Sleeping I like, but waking up to this?” She screwed her face up in disgust, “No thanks. Oh, hi there Prism.”
Steel Prism, who had been waiting right outside, returned the greeting with a cool salute. “Hello ma’am, Evening.”
Evening waved at him, wondering how he had gotten there, being an earth pony and lacking a lot of the more common augmentations, Prism didn’t have much of in the way of getting around in zero gravity. Then, she noticed that he was wearing a heavy bracer on one of his front legs, with a five-fingered metal clamp sticking out of it on the end of a flat, telescoping arm.
As they passed by, the clamp extended, then grabbed hold of a handhold on the wall and pulled the earth pony forward. Evening watched the entire procedure with not a small amount of curiosity.
“What is that thing?” she asked.
Steel Prism followed her gaze and waved the implement around, “Oh, this old thing? It’s a utility brace, and old model my grandpa used to use.” He looked at it fondly and propelled himself forward again. “I had a friend of mine bring it up to specs when I joined up and it’s been with me ever since. Really useful, if you don’t want to lose a limb to hold stuff,” he said. Remembering who was floating next to him, he immediately added, “No offense, ma’am.”
“None taken,” Firebird said, easing her way forward with slow, easy strokes, more like a swimmer’s than a flier’s. “I honestly don’t think anyone can offend me with that anymore. There’s a point where being called a “Frankenstein” gets repetitive,” she added.
Grinning, she held a metal limb out and made a knife, a long, pointy, narrow dull grey thing, pop out with a *snick!*. She retracted it, and made the hoof become a four fingered hand.
“Besides, these things are a lot more useful,” she said, wiggling the metal fingers about, her face smug.
Steel Prisim rolled his eyes. “If you say so, ma’am.”
He turned to look at Evening. “Speaking of implant’s, how’s yours?”
Evening shrugged, and tossed the now empty juice bag towards a passing trash bin. They’d added a neural implant to the base of her skull a week ago; she’d given consent for it before setting off. “I haven’t checked it out yet,” she admitted, which made Firebird sputter in mock shock.
“What? You’ve spent ten whole minutes with that and you haven’t done any net bingeing? Who are you and what did you do to Evening?” she demanded, trying to keep the grin out of her face.
Evening Star rolled her eyes. “I can live without an internet connection, you know,” she deadpanned, “And besides, there’s none here, I checked when we were still in the VR.”
They made their way to the ship’s centrifuge, and climbed onto the elevator that would bring down to the gravity deck. While most of the ship was built in such a way that the thrust of the engines provided the necessary acceleration to simulate gravity, Evening remembered being told when they’d boarded two weeks ago, they still had these rotating sections for when they in orbit around a planet. It was there that they found the medical ward, and Doc.
Mary “Doc” Thornton might have been someone’s grandma. Actually, she just might have been several somebodies great grandmother. Evening couldn’t tell how old she was, but with her wrinkled face, white hair, chalky skin, small yet bright blue eyes and bony hands, she looked very old.
Although, there was the good chance that she might be younger than Evening, which gave the unicorn an unpleasant feeling.
Not one to pursue existential crises at the drop of a hat, she abandoned that train of thought and greeted the old woman cheerfully, after Firebird introduced them and told Doc of Evening’s previous symptoms.
The old lady smiled, “Well good morning to you too, dear.” She said –and yes, she sounded like she was everyone’s grandmother. “Now, if you could hop onto the examination table, we’ll give your new implants a look.”
Evening Star obliged, hopping on to the table and laying down on her side. Maria did a quick examination with a handheld scanner, and determined that there was nothing wrong. “It’s just hypersleep sensitivity, dear.” Maria told her, “Nothing to be worried about, I have it too and it’s more annoying than harmful.”
“Now, I’ll boot up your neural implants.” She continued, and Evening felt something clamp onto the back of her head, where the tiny connector was hidden amongst her mane. “Let me warn you, that this will take some getting used to, and it will feel very, very weird for some days.”
Evening felt a pleasant tingling sensation run through the base of her neck, and then the world went crazy.
//BOOTING UP.
She didn’t hear or see the words, they were simply… there. They flashed through her mind briefly, before being replaced by more.
//CHECKING FOR UPDATES… NO UPDATES REQUIRED.
//LOADING KFNIOS-M V 9.81.1 …
//WE HAVE DETECTED THAT YOU ARE A FIRST TIME USER OF THE KF NEURAL INTERFACE OPERATING SYSTEM. WE WILL NOW RUN THE INITIAL SET-UP TO ADJUST THE SETTINGS TO FIT YOU BIOMETRICS. SHOULD YOU WISH TO ADJUST THESE SETTINGS, PLEASE GO TO SETTINGS-BIOMETRICS. IF YOU HAVE YOUR BIOMETRIC DATA STORED ON A SEPARATE DEVICE, PLEASE CONNECT IT NOW.
//”That would be my cue.”
The sound of Mary’s voice inside her head made Evening jump half a meter into the air. She heard the doctor chuckle behind her. “Ah, that never gets old,” the old woman said, “I have your biometrics from when you were put into hypersleep, so I’ll just upload it to your implant to save us time.”
“Uh, okay,” Evening blurted out. She felt another tingle through the base of her spine. More words came to her.
//BIOMETRIC DATA RECEIVED. PLEASE WAIT WHILE WE LOAD THE TUTORIAL…
====================
This is so weird.
Even with the biometric data loaded, it had taken quite some fiddling with the settings in order to get the neural interface calibrated for her; the sheer amount of settings was unbelievable. There was even one for how hard you had to think of something for the NI to pick it up, which had taken some fine tuning. Having it too high could make it very hard to use, and having it too low meant that the slightest surface thought would deliver a terrifyingly overwhelming surge of information right into her brain.
Because that’s what it did; deliver information right into her brain. She’d half expected it to be like in a video game or a movie, with some sort of overlay, but that wasn’t the case. Instead she just… knew.
For example, she’d looked at Mary and instantly knew that she was born on the 31st of December 2042, as if that was something she’d been aware of all along. Also, apparently Firebird was listening to the eponymous suite by Stravinsky while she was waiting outside –much to her surprise- and if she wanted to, she could listen to it as well.
It was actually a bit freaky.
“This is so weird,” she said, this time out loud.
Doc simply ruffled her mane. “You’ll get used to it dear,” she said, smiling. “One day, you’ll wonder how you ever got along without it.”
Evening thought about it, and nodded. “I think I can see it already.”
Not realizing the sort of monster she had unleashed, Mary smiled genially. “That’s the spirit!” she said, “Now, I’ll just update your medical record and I’ll send you off.”
With not a small amount of hesitation, Evening spoke.
“Actually… could I ask you something?”
Mary blinked in surprise, but nonetheless sat down beside her.
“What is it, dear?” she asked.
Evening swallowed. This wasn’t something she broached easily, especially with someone she barely knew. But this woman was only –and how she boggled at how so big a number could be considered “only”- a hundred and twenty years her junior, and was the closest to her own age she’d known in quite some time.
“I was just wondering… how did you do it? Not this,” she immediately added, tapping her head with one hoof, “but… I mean… Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re the oldest human I’ve ever met and I was wondering-”
“-Why do I keep going?” the old woman finished for her, “Well, I have some theories. There might be certain genes that make the anti-aging treatments work better those who carry them- Speaking of which,” she said, suddenly changing subjects, “would you mind if I used some data I obtained from you for that? You’re the oldest pony in the ship, and it would help me in a small project of mine.”
“Uh, sure, go ahead,” Evening said, “But that’s not what I was going to say. I meant… how. How did you keep going?”
Maria looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she answered.
“I just did. I kept moving around, going from one place to the next, as I imagine you did.”
Evening nodded, and the old woman continued.
“I was never one to get bogged up in something,” she said, “Always kept going forward. If something didn’t last, I looked for something else. If something hurt, I moved on. If it didn’t, if it felt like the opposite of hurt, I held on to it, until I had to let go. I don’t think people should feel bad about the road they left behind; they should feel happy for the road ahead.”
“And… well, since we’re where we are and you’re going to do what you’re going to do, I’ll tell you that I think that’s the root of the whole mess with the princesses,” she said, “People who live as long as you or I or they should always keep moving. They should be out there in the streets, getting their hands -or their hooves- dirty, not on top of a throne. They should know the people around them and the world they live in, meeting regular, ordinary folk, not nobles and politicians who only want favors.”
“But they didn’t do that,” Evening said, softly, “I was one of the ponies left behind, when Equestria left… and I remember when Celestia came to my hometown, Detrot. I was just a filly, but I remember all the fuss they made about it. They cleaned up the streets, they made everyone polish their windows… my sister said it was the only time that the city actually looked good to look at.”
“And there you have it,” Mary said.
The old woman smiled the sort of smile that reaches the eyes. She reached into her pocket and drew out a bright red lollipop in a transparent plastic wrapper, which she gave to her.
“And this is to help with that sad look on your face,” she said, “You seem like a good mare, and I know the people that will be going with you. If anyone can straighten this out, it’s you lot.”
She gave Evening a heartfelt pat on her barrel and added, “Now hurry along, you’ve got a plane to catch.”
====================
Firebird looked at the illusory projection of her ride to the stratosphere with a mild horror that was only partially an act, her face hidden by her armor’s helmet. “You sure this was made by Rockomax?” she asked the similarly dressed individual next to her, “The same Rockomax that makes surface-to-orbit missiles with disposable fusion drives? The same Rockomax that gave us the Pluto Missile? The same Rockomax that made an antimatter rocket and that Orion drive…” She made a vague gesture with one hoof, trying to find the appropriate word. She settled on, “thing?”
The large earth pony wearing heavy armor and a heavy multibarrel pulse laser turret on his back nodded slowly. “Certainly looks like it, ma’am,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft, “I wonder what they told the designer to make for him to come up with something like that.”
“Well, I know,” said a rather short unicorn mare, also in armor, with her helmet including a crest to both protect the horn and carry the thaumic suppressor emitters that would mask her magic, a laser rifle slung on her back, “They must have told them, “Hey, Steve, I’m so high I could be in, like fucking sub orbit man, and I want you to make the most completely fucking evil-looking space plane in the universe. Here, have a joint, it’ll help.””
“And that’s another twenty credits for the swear jar, Sunny,” Firebird quipped, “Keep going like that and we’ll have enough to buy another cruiser soon.”
The mare in question only made a groan of long suffering frustration.
Secretly, the Major agreed with Sergeant. The SP-609 “Firefly” was one evil-looking space plane. It was sleek and long, and from this angle –top down, through a camera in the hangar- it had the profile similar to a sword blade. Firebird couldn’t see any blemishes, or bumps, or markings, the entire craft was smooth, and black as sin itself. The color was so uniform and so good at not reflecting any light at all that the craft looked like a hole in the universe.
It was extremely disturbing.
“Ain’t she a beaut,” said the flight-suited man floating behind them in zero g, sounding reverent, as if speaking of some holy thing, “the coating’s a metamaterial-impregnated ceramic that just soaks up nearly every source of electromagnetic radiation known to science. Shut down the engines, and she’s nearly invisible. Fast too; she’s got Rockomax’s engines.”
“”She’s” also got Rockomax’s sense of subtlety,” the big earth pony commented dryly, “That thing makes Pluto Missiles look benign.”
“Well she ain’t exactly carrying bunnies either,” Firebird said, grinning, “Speaking of which, are your boys and girls ready?”
The earth pony, one Sergeant Rock Steady, nodded in response, “They’re already inside, ma’am.”
“Ready to kick ass and take names, ma’am!” said the unicorn, Sergeant Sunny Disposition.
Firebird nodded in approval; no doubt they had been organizing their squads through their neural interfaces while they’d been waiting. “Good,” she said, “now all we need is for those two to put their suits on so we can- Ah, here they are.” her NI informed them that Evening and Prism had just opened the hatch leading to the hangar. She turned herself around to look at them.
Two figures floated into the hangar’s antechamber. Even though the spacesuits they now wore bore no markings and were all but identical, the implants allowed Firebird to instantly tell who was who. One of them, Evening, stopped moving to look at Firebird and the other SecForce officers intently.
It suddenly occurred to Firebird that Evening had never personally seen her in armor before. The armor was certainly intimidating, it completely encased the body in plates made out of the same material the cruiser’s armor was, with a flexible nanotube weave underneath. Unlike power armor, theirs didn’t enhance their abilities. Rather, they contained a power supply in the back that allowed them to use their synthetic muscles at full capacity. As a result, they were sleek and slightly body fitting, hers even more so, to allow her to fly.
The suits Evening and Steel prism wore couldn’t be more different. They hugged the body closely, but were puffed up, giving the wearer a slightly inflated appearance. The helmets were large, and rounded, rather than skull fitting and angular, with golden visors that could be flipped over the faceplate. Saddlebags with life support hung from their sides.
“Well it’s about time you showed up,” Firebird called, “I thought the two of you had decided to share a spacesuit or something.”
She waited just long enough for Evening to start sputtering in indignation before continuing very loudly, “Now, let’s get going, we’re taking off in thirty minutes and I’m gonna be pissed if we come all the way here and miss our chance just because someone forgot we’re on a time limit! Move it, both of you!”
====================
//Operation: Woodpecker.
//Pre-mission briefing.
//All right people, this is it.
//Down below us is the Equestrian barrier. Inside it are the biggest monsters in history. However, the President and I have reason to believe that there’s something very fishy going on inside that bubble. So, instead of having the fleet get all the fun, they’re sending us in to figure out what’s what.
//Remember, this is a recon op. If we don’t have to shoot someone, we won’t. Don’t engage unless we or the VIPs are in immediate dangers; any other situation is no excuse. And, if you have to shoot a gun, make sure it’s the one that makes the least noise. Keep it quiet, let the VIPs do their thing, and nothing will go wrong.
//Also, please be advised that we’ve been getting reports of subterranean megafauna, some kind of gigantic worm thing. We’ll only be there for a short time before we’re in the Barrier, but I’d prefer if we got there without getting eaten. Keep your eyes sharp at all times. This also holds true inside the Barrier. We’re going to be entering hostile and unknown territory, so assume everything is out to kill you unless proven otherwise.
//Remember, this is the op everyone’s gonna be reading about on the history books. Do not screw this up, or I’ll have your asses.
//Firebird out.
//Primary mission objectives:
//- Ensure safety of VIPs.
//- Remain undetected.
//- Obtain any and all information pertaining as to the current condition of the Equestrian Diarchy.
====================
The SP-109 “Firefly” space plane by Rockomax is a marvel of aerospace engineering, designed to quickly and efficiently deliver harbingers of acute pain right under the enemy’s nose. Stealthy, fast and nimble, it was beloved by everyone who flew it, in spite –and occasionally because- of its sinister appearance.
One example of this breed, affectionately called “Natie” by its pilot, eased out of the armored hangar of the Hobbes, before firing the pair of linear aerospike rocket engines seamlessly integrated into its wings and burning away. Once the pilot determined that its trajectory was correct, it burned retrograde for a few seconds to bring its path into the atmosphere. The atmosphere of this planet was very thin, so that meant that its pilot would have to bring his craft lower than he was entirely comfortable with. Still, he was confident in both his machine and his skills –which pilot wasn’t? -, and he figured he could pull it off, even if the worst came to happen.
In the meantime, the space plane’s passengers would have to find ways to kill time within the confines of the passenger berth. Some read books downloaded into their minds or gave their orders one final review. Some played games, one quietly offered prayers. Most of them gave their weapons and equipment one final pass with the cleaning rag or checked them for faults. Some made jokes or chatted.
One simply sat there, awkwardly silent.
Firebird paused from giving her wing mounted laser’s focus lenses a visual inspection to tap Evening on shoulder with the mechanical arm on her tail. //“Everything okay?” she asked over the wireless, on a private channel, //”Because the conversation you’re making is riveting.”
//”It’s nothing,” Evening lied.
//”No,” Firebird insisted, //“it ain’t. Spit it.”
Evening was quiet for some time, before she answered.
//”I’m… thinking,” she said, her voice halting, //”I just realized that… everyone I knew there is dead by now, probably. Mom, dad, my sister Venus Dawn, my old schoolmates… I’ve outlasted a lot of people, Fibi,” she said, and for once Firebird could actually sense the age in her friend, //“and it always hurt, and I always grieved… but I never did for them; my own family. It never even crossed my mind.”
//”But now… this is going to sound stupid, but… if we get the chance, can I check up on them?” she asked.
Firebird thought on that. It’s a stupid idea, she told herself, they’ll know who you are, wonder why you’re still springing around when you should be just as old and then they’ll start asking the sort of questions you can’t answer and which will end in me hiding bodies. You’ll get the info, get her and her soon-to-be boyfriend into orbit and then do… whatever it is you’ll end up doing here. Say no. Just say no.
She looked at Evening and was about to tell her no and why she couldn’t. But then she caught the look on her friend’s face. She had the golden visor up, and in the lights of the slightly cramped passenger berth of the Firefly she could clearly see the look on her face, and it was one she’d rarely seen. Only on the rare occasions when something had bluntly reminded Evening of just how old she was had Firebird seen her like this.
She looked tired.
Firebird hesitated. Was she really that heartless? She had only the most general idea of what a normal family -like the one Evening must’ve had- should look like or what it would be to live in one. Her list of happy childhood moments quite literally ended the day she had gotten her cutie mark.
That had not been a good day.
Could she really just say no to her friend? Tell her that she’d have to wait until she could give her family the farewell she had never thought of giving them?
//“Yes, you can,” she said, //“If we get the time and it’s not liable to screw us over, you can.”
Evening gave a small smile.
//”Thank you,” she said.
====================
It was time.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now in atmospheric entry.”
The space plane screamed into the sky night sky, friction from the thin atmosphere heating its exterior until the air became a white hot plasma that blasted at its skin. The outer hull was more up to the task of resisting the heat, and an insulating layer kept the interior cool.
It was still a ways away from the Barrier, plenty of time for it to slow down to a more sedate speed. Its pilot made the craft perform a series of S-turns, to lengthen the trajectory. A few minutes later, the plasma trail evaporated, and a few minutes after that, their destination came into view.
“The Barrier is now in sight, please get ready for airdrop.”
The silver of the glowing dome quickly grew to occupy most of the forward field of view, and the space plane descended until it reached an appropriate altitude, analogous to the lower stratosphere of Terra.
“Commence drop, deploying escort!”
First of all was a quintet of airborne combat drones, triangular things propelled by a variable thermal fusion jet. The miniature reactor could allow for weeks or even months of continuous operation for the machines, although it was not necessary at this moment. They dropped down from the cargo bay, then to either side, in an escort formation.
The rest of the drones followed, loaded up into five large hexapod carriers who were in turn folded into stealthy aerodynamic fairings. They dropped like stones, and the squadron followed them, to provide support in case they were discovered.
Following the drones were the SecForce soldiers that would direct them; two squads and an officer, Major Firebird, along Evening Star and Steel Prism, who were each connected to one of the soldier’s harnesses. Those not gifted with wings had donned a “Drop Harness”, the successor to the parachutes of old. They strapped to one’s back or attached to hardpoints on the armor, and clever design meant both humans and ponies could use them. They contained everything an airborne soldier would need, from drogue chutes, to a set of folding wings and jet engine, to flares, fire lighting equipment and radio beacons. Self-contained and reusable, they were extremely popular in the Alliance and a version sold well on the civilian market.
“Insertion team is away. Good luck, people.”
Its task complete, the space plane closed its cargo and passenger bays, ignited its aerospike engines, and began to climb back into orbit. From there, it would return to the Hobbes and wait until it was needed again.
The team of ponies currently on their way to the ground was now alone. Until the fleet could get a satellite network running, they would only be able to contact them some of the time and even then, reinforcements could take hours to get there. They were about to enter the utterly unknown. Not even Evening could tell what they would find beneath the barrier.
Silently, they hurtled down towards the ground.
Even at terminal velocity, Firebird estimated that they wouldn’t be hitting the ground for at least a few minutes, so she had time to look at the sights. It was midnight where they were (she still couldn’t quite get around the idea of time being different in different locations) so the sky was dark, and if it weren’t for the glow of the Barrier, stars would be visible as plainly as the city above in the ship.
There was a thrill in her bones she hadn’t felt before. The sight of the open sky had awakened some innate desire to flap her wings and soar endlessly. It almost reminded her of the day she’d first experienced what it was like to have her synthetic muscles at full power. She felt like she could do anything and everything.
She pushed that instinct into a mental drawer. She knew better than to do that right now. She was not a greenhorn halfway through training, she was the Commander of the Calvin Security Force, and she was on a mission.
She folded her wings slightly and dropped faster, until she was neck and neck with Sunny Disposition and Rock Steady. She felt Steel Prism, who was falling in tandem with her, stiffen at the acceleration.
Poor guy, she thought, he’s really out of his element.
She and her team continued to fall. About one thousand meters from the ground, the drone carriers that were leading them opened drogue chutes, then massive parachutes, with their flesh and blood masters following a similar procedure, spiraling down on wings, either natural ones or jet powered alternatives. The squadron of flying drones scanned the ground and airspace around them for anything that might be observing, but detected little more than small animals and tall plant things.
Evening said that they looked like trees. More specifically, like a cross between something called a “banana tree” and a “fir”.
Whatever those were.
Drone Carrier Two was the first to touch down, crumpling the aeroshell beneath it. It cut its parachute, then triggered small explosive devices in its fairing, opening it like a flower. A quartet of multibarrel pulse lasers swept through the surroundings, but encountered nothing. It detached itself from the fairing and stretched its legs, rising to full height.
A successor to a military research program in the ancient United States, the drone carrier was big, about the size of a bus. Ground combat drones were hung on the underside, in ten racks of five and additional racks were mounted on the dorsal area, in the middle, with space for five folded up airborne drones. Its six legs had four joints each, and two thick wheels were mounted on the second one.
Drone Carrier Two lumbered forward, its brothers soon doing the same. Firebird and her two squads quickly followed, the non-pegasi hitting the ground hard, while their flying comrades alighted with a bit more grace.
Firebird hovered above the ground for a second to detach Steel Prism from her person. The earth pony nearly sagged in relief at the feeling of the icy ground beneath his feet.
Firebird landed on a small icy hill with a small crunch. She partially closed her wings, and engaged her armor’s “ground mode”.
Terran pegasus armor was the most mechanically complex of the four. It had to protect two extra appendages, and make sure that its wearer was as effective in flight as they were on the ground. It had taken some time, and a lot of furious debate amongst designers, but it had been done. The armor covered the leading edge of the wings, with “feathers” protecting the three digitigrade feathers pegasus wings had. When closed or partially closed, those feathers unfolded to protect the rest of the wing.
As for weapons, the armor included a pair of infrared pulse fiber lasers on each side, with attachments points for small rocket or missile launchers. While in the air, those lasers fired forwards, but when on the ground, the light was instead redirected through fiber optic cable through the armor on the wings and out of a focusing lens mounted on the wrist. This allowed the wearer to have the same freedom of aim as a human, and gave them the ability to quickly switch battlefields and roles.
Firebird made her own sweep of the area, her enhanced senses missing nothing. Satisfied that her men hadn’t missed anything, she called out at them.
“Allright!” she said, “Troops, get the Vanguards from the Carriers and form up on them, escort formation. Disposition,” she looked at the short unicorn, who was fiddling with her Drop Pack, “you’re point. Steady,” she looked at the large stallion, “you get the rear. I’ll keep the air drones on CAP. Evening, Steel, you’re with me. Anything goes wrong, you hide behind either me or one of the Carriers while we deal with it, got it?”
Evening and Prism nodded and trotted towards her.
“Okay then,” she said, tuning around and looking towards their destination. Even from this distance, a good twenty or so kilometers away, the Barrier dominated the landscape. It glowed softly, bathing everything in an eerie light that gave the tall plant things long, huge shadows and rendered everything in purples and pinks. It was only then that Firebird truly understood the sheer scale of what they were going to do.
Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, she called out, “Let’s keep moving! The sooner we get there, the sooner we can show that shiny bitch what karma is!”
And with that, they began their trek.
====================
//”Holy motherfucking shit.”
Firebird was about to reprimand Sunny Disposition, but held her tongue. This was one of those occasions where radio discipline flew straight out the airlock.
After a long trek through a thick forest of tree things, they’d come out to a small plain that separated them from the forest. The formation had stopped right inside the tree line, its forward elements hidden behind the ice. Firebird had made the Drone Carriers crouch down into the ground, point-defense weaponry primed. Both squads had their Vanguard Over-The-Horizon Railguns out, and the airborne drones were providing targeting data for them.
If anything tried to get near them, it would probably be torn into very tiny shreds before it even knew they were there.
Firebird looked at the sight of the Barrier someone in her forward element was providing her and whistled, the sound never escaping her helmet. If it had been imposing twenty kilometers out, at this range it was positively monolithic. It completely swallowed up the landscape, dominating everything in rage.
“I almost forgot how big this thing was,” Evening Star breathed, “And the feeling… it just glows with magic.”
“I can see that.” Firebird quipped.
//”No ma’am, you can’t,” Sunny Disposition retorted over the wireless, //”I think what Miss Star here is referring to is the thaumaturgical radiation- the actual magic of this fu- thing.” She said, biting down on the swearword.
Firebird frowned at that, //”Just how much are we talking about here?” she asked, on another channel.
//”It’s averaging at about five Tee-thees,” the unicorn answered. Prompted by the pointed and very annoyed silence Firebird managed to produce over the wireless, she clarified, //“Five Terathaums.”
After more pointed silence, she clarified further //“That’s as if every thaumic caster on the Calvin targeted the same thing at the same time.”
Now that was something Firebird could understand.
//”Is it safe?” she asked.
//“The thaumic energy itself? Shit yeah- I mean, yes! You’d have to go all the way up to fifty billion Tera-Thees for any noticeable effect on living tissue from exposure to pure thaumic energy. Of course, by then whatever you’re using to make that much magic would be giving off enough heat to light up like a motherfu-… I mean like a sun,” came the halting answer. Sunny Disposition might be a very unpleasant person to be around, have what Firebird suspected was a case of Tourette’s (or whatever you called uncontrollable swearing) and be completely spoiled rotten from Firebird’s point of view, but her education was extremely useful in situations like this.
//”The thing I’m worried about is what they’re using all that for,” she continued, //”because, with that amount of energy, you can do a whole bunch of really nasty shi- I mean things on top of the main function of the barrier. You can have countermeasures, automatic surveillance, defense mechanisms and the whole shebang. And since we don’t know just how advanced Equestrian spell crafting is –remember that none of the ponies left behind were spell experts- we could, theoretically, be looking at something that scans your brain, summons an enormous metal spike and shove- I mean kills you with it.”
//”Can you check it out from here?” Firebird asked.
//”Yes, ma’am,” Sunny replied, //”I’ll do a full scan. Very carefully of course, don’t want to get killed by a cheap as-… booby trap.”
After a few moments, Sunny Spoke again, //”Major…permission to speak freely?”
Firebird raised an eyebrow, //”Permission granted.”
//"Ma'am,” Sunny said, her voice over the wireless gaining a slightly disturbing amount of giddiness to it, //”this is the opportunity of a fucking lifetime. No one ever got to analyze the spell composition of the Equestrian barrier, since the bastards took the knowledge with them when they went away. We've guessed, and speculated, and filled a whole sewage tank with bullshit theories and wild-ass hypothesis and all sorts of hypothetical wankery, but we never had the real thing. Now though...”
//“Get to the point,” Firebird very calmly stated.
//“So,” Sunny was quick to say, //“hypothetically, if I were to make a paper on the spell structure of this sonovabitch, how long would it be classified? Because I'd like a Nobel in Thaumaturgical Sciences. I'll even put your names on it. Hell, I'll buy you every fucking drink to ever exist!"
//”Hard to say,” The Major replied after a moment’s consideration, //“probably as long as the rest this op is classified. Depends on what we end up doing. Now shut up and scan. By the way,” she added, //“I’m calling off the swear jar until further notice.”
Sergeant Sunny’s relief was almost palpable over the wireless. //“Yes ma’am! Thank you ma’am!” she said, and quickly got to work doing… whatever it was that figuring out the spell structure of anything involved. It was probably mind-numbingly complicated.
“What’s going on?” Evening asked, “You got all quiet for a moment.”
“Nothing,” she said, shrugging, “Sunny’s scanning the barrier so we don’t run into anything unexpected, like an enormous magical landmine.”
Evening nodded in understanding, the big helmet of her suit making this action look rather awkward, and then she went back to looking at what could be seen of the Barrier through the treetops.
Firebird couldn’t help but let her eyes wander in the same direction. There was something strangely magnetic about that glowing wall, something that just pulled.
She shivered and stomped the feeling into the ground. That’s probably some sort of trap, she decided.
//”What the actual fuck?” came Sunny’s eloquent report over the wireless.
//”Sergeant, as much as I appreciate quick work, I’d like a more detailed report than that.” Firebird quipped.
//”I know sir,” the unicorn replied, //”I’m just trying to make sense of what the fuck I’m getting. The framework’s different… in fact, it reminds me of… wait a minute… Ha! Got it! The structure uses a fucking analogue pattern as a base, just like basic telekinesis, not a digital one. Not surprising, bastards never had computers come into the very basic foundations of their spell work. No idea if they have any now, but if I see someone rocking a motherfucking tape computer, I think I’ll laugh forever.” By now, the unicorn’s voice was back to “unhealthily giddy”.
//“This is probably another paper just waiting to be published-”
//”Sunny,” the Major interrupted the now rambling mage, //”The point. When do we get to it?”
//”Oh,” Sunny said, sounding almost embarrassed.
Almost.
//”Well, let’s see… Barrier’s surface doesn’t feel at all like our shield spells at all… it’s not ablative, redirecting, reactive or active… more like a big plane of reinforced glass, or ice, which coincides with old reports of people seeing it crack when they bombarded it in 2018, but feels very fluid when I poke at it… Still no sign of countermeasures, so I’m going to go a little deeper… it looks like it’s at least partially self-sustaining, drawing from ambient thaumaturgical energy… there’s a heating spell, but it looks like it was tacked on at the last minute and it radiates inwards at specific points, it’s also consuming a good chunk of the assload of energy this thing has but that’s understandable, looking at the size of this thing. It’s a pretty good piece of spellwork for something that looks pretty rushed. Now, where’s the rest of the energy going… Aha!” she exclaimed, //“got the fucker. It’s an Exclusion spell but I’ve never even heard of anyone getting one this huge and complex to work. Looks like this is where the most of the energy is going, the rest going to the heating spell. Someone really doesn’t want anything getting in. Let’s see… if anything that corresponds to a pony or anything that is being brought in willingly by a pony touches the Barrier; it will go right through it as if it weren’t solid… Unrefined metals get a pass as long as they’re below ground level… air doesn’t unless it’s surrounded by something that does get a pass, electromagnetic radiation gets a pass unless it’s intense or in the gammas and abso-fucking-lutely everything not in that list will just find a big wall. No surveillance or defenses, but there could be someone waiting on the other side.”
Firebird grinned. //”Awesome. Good work Sergeant. All right boys and girls, get off your asses and activate the camo. We’re going in.”
====================
Outside the Barrier.
0220 hours
To anyone watching this particular spot, it would’ve appeared that there was nothing there. A more detailed observation would’ve revealed a variety of hoof prints on the icy ground. Strangely enough, the ponies responsible for the making of such hoof prints were nowhere to be seen.
Such was the miracle of metamaterials.
It was unnerving, Evening Star decided, to not be able to see anyone –or rather, anypony; she had to remember to use the appropriate term now- around her, yet know exactly where they were. The NI had overlaid bright blue silhouettes where they would be as a helpful visual aid, with the weaponry outlined in red
//”Anything on sensors?” she heard Firebird ask over the wireless.
//”Negative on contacts, ma’am,” was the reply from a unicorn in Rock Steady’s squad, of the name Satellite Dish, //”We’re in the clear.”
//”No patrols outside the Barrier,” Firebird mused, //”This is extremely suspicious and I don’t like any of it.”
They were practically touching the Barrier now; they’d stopped only so that they could find a way to hitch the Drone Carriers to someone so they could be pulled through it. Otherwise, the robots would simply find a nigh-impenetrable wall.
Judging from the amount of profanity Evening was hearing, they were having some problems.
//”Goddamn cock-fucking son of a dick! How, in the name of all that’s good and holy, do these fucking things get tangled in storage!?”
At this distance, the faint pull on the mind that the barrier had presented before was now impossible to ignore. Firebird had at one point stopped to ask Sunny to re-check for traps and had been told by the swear-happy unicorn that this pull was due to the nature of magic to attract magic. The Barrier simply had so much that it essentially acted like a “fucking pony magnet”.
That didn’t make it any less creepy. In an effort to keep herself occupied, she’d started talking with Steel Prism. The police officer seemed like a nice guy, and she’d been surprised to know that he was a bit of a fan of hers, having watched several movies she’d starred in. He wasn’t an obsessive fan, like some she’d occasionally met. Rather, he was pretty laid back about it, and didn’t hesitate to talk about other actors or movies she had nothing to do with. He had pretty good taste too.
What an incredibly suspicious coincidence, then, that he’d be her escort.
//“Prism, don’t get me wrong,” she said in a private channel, //”but you’ve been set up.”
//”… I’m sorry?” was the confused reply.
//”You see,” she started to explain, //”well I’m… single, and I’ve been for that way for a pretty long time. For some reason, Firebird has taken it upon herself to be the one to remedy that.”
//”What do you mean by-?” Prism started to say, but then the gears clicked inside his head.
//”No way,” he said.
//”Yep.”
//”Seriously, Major Firebird de Coverley? Playing matchmaker? The same mare who thinks clearing a building full of terrorists is entertainment?”
//”She likes knitting too,” Evening added for good measure, //”and cooking, but don’t try anything she makes. She also makes a surprisingly good babysitter.”
//”I’d imagine,” Prisim said, and chuckled, //”Well I’ll be damned. I’d guessed that the Major had hobbies, but I didn’t think they’d be so… uh… girly.”
//”So what if they are?” came Firebird’s voice, which made them both jump, //”besides, knitting’s pretty useful. Especially the needles.”
//“Major, I-!”
//“Oh, shut up. It’s not like I even try to keep that a secret,” she said, and you could almost see her rolling her eyes, //“So what if the big, scary Major likes girly things from time to time? Guess what? I’m a girl! Who said I had to be a tomboy to kick ass, anyway?”
//”Oh and, by the way,” she added, //”you are officially on the Christmas list Officer, and that means you get a nice, fluffy sweater this yea- what’s that noise?”
Everyone fell silent, and Firebird, Steel Prism and the soldiers tensed up around her. She strained her ears, but couldn’t hear a thing. Not at first, at least.
It took a few moments for her to finally hear it. It was a dull sound, one that she felt in her bones rather than hear through her ears. It sounded almost like a… like a…
Like a train, she realized, remembering, but what coul-.
All further thought was interrupted by the ground they had been traversing a quarter of an hour before erupting in a geyser of ice and permafrost. Rising from the plains in front of the Barrier was a Worm. It towered over the landscape, big as a building, its thick skin covered by motive appendages and swishing antennae, its head a gaping, four-jawed mouth. The glow of the barrier gave it a surreal, purplish hue.
“Holly shit!” someone screamed, and Evening couldn’t tell who it was.
The Worm –and she couldn’t help but capitalize the word, it only seemed fair- hung still in the air. Then, with impossible slowness, it came crashing down, thankfully not in their direction, but instead landing on top the forest. The ground shook with the impact, and the Worm flattened itself with its own mass.
For a few moments, Evening thought that it had died, but then she heard the unmistakable sounds of something eating.
//“…Is that thing… eating the forest?” someone, a pegasus from Sunny’s squad with the name of Cloud Cover asked, incredulous.
//”Sunny,” Firebird asked, her voice strangely calm, //“could you hurry up? Like now, for instance?”
//“I’m trying, ma’am, I’m trying!” Sunny hissed, //“Fucking tow cable isn’t- Shit!“
More worms, smaller ones, suddenly sprung up from the ground and latched themselves onto the larger one. The Worm howled, and then roared, a terrible, otherworldly noise unlike anything Evening had ever heard.
//”Everyone, in the Barrier, now!” Firebird ordered, //“Forget the cable, just pull the damn thing!”
Evening turned to run, Steel Prism by her side. They scarcely traversed more than a few meters before something grabbed her.
It almost happened too quickly for her to process. One instant, she was galloping towards the Barrier. The next, she was hurtling forward, head over hooves, Steel Prism right behind her. They landed heavily on the ground, she on her back, and in the perfect position to see one of the smaller worms crash –likely after being flung by its much larger prey- right where she had been not a second before.
The bus-sized beast squirmed and moaned in pain. Its head turned towards her for an instant.
That was the last move it made.
CRACK-BOOM!
The worm exploded, it body torn to shreds from a cataclysmic blow, killing the unfortunate thing instantly. In front of it an armored figure materialized, the camouflage likely rendered temporarily useless by the discharge of the weapon it held, a long, two-pronged, unwieldy thing.
It was a Pegasus mare, reared up on her hind legs, wings held out for balance and the long railgun held in mechanical forelimbs.
She turned to look at them. The eyes she saw through the visor were grey with flecks of blue, and as cold as the deepest void of space.
//”Get inside the Barrier,” Firebird told them, //“now.”
The mare’s voice frightened Evening. It was not…human, for lack of a better word. It was something completely devoid of mercy or compassion, filled with an icy chill that sent shivers down her spine. It barely sounded like Firebird at all.
Wordlessly, she and Prism got to their hooves and bolted towards the Barrier, Firebird’s cold, precise orders telling both Sergeants to send four soldiers with them while the rest stayed behind to move or protect the equipment.
She only stopped running when she was quite some ways past the Barrier.
====================
Location unknown, Equestrian Diarchy
0300 hours.
They marched on in silence, completely invisible to anyone –or rather, anypony- who might be patrolling the area. They’d launched reconnaissance drones, small things shaped to look like birds, the moment they were past. They flew around, reporting on anything that caught their electronic eyes and, if Firebird so wished, she could see what they saw.
The Barrier was behind them now, and with it was that unnerving pulling sensation. Instead, it was replaced with a distant tingling through the bones and horns and wings of the infiltration team. It was the magic of Equestria, seeping into those who had spent their entire lives without it.
The air was chilly, but not so much as the world outside, while the barrier’s glow was limited to its lowermost edges, the ceiling of it being almost completely transparent and letting the light of the stars in. Around them was a forest of trees –not tree things, but actual trees- with orange leaves.
There was a… magic to it. Not in the literal sense, although that was there too, but rather, a sort of wonder. It felt as if they had fallen right into a children’s fairy tale.
For someone like Firebird, who had grown up in the deep, crowded, cramped underbelly of the Calvin, who had never known anything about plains or forests or endless skies, it was beautiful. She was glad she didn’t have to sleep, unlike Evening and Prism, who had fallen into snores an hour and a half ago.
Firebird couldn’t blame them. The day had been long and grueling, and that little incident with the worms hadn’t helped either. They were resting atop inflatable mattresses carried by a Drone Carrier and covered head to tail with camouflaged blankets.
They were also lying quite close to each other, a fact that Firebird planned to attribute to the motion of the Drone Carrier.
She smiled under her helmet. For someone who has more than three hundred years old, Evening was easy on the eyes. God knows why, but anti-aging treatments and restorative medicine worked especially well on her.
And yet, the mare was still single. That didn’t strike Firebird as especially fair; Evening was way too good a person to spend her life alone. Hence, the matchmaking.
Evening had been quiet after they’d gone into the Barrier. Considering what she must’ve seen, Firebird didn’t exactly blame her for it. That was a part of herself her friend had never seen before.
But she’d get over it, Firebird knew. Evening had saved her life when she was a pile of metal with some flesh buried somewhere inside. She’d befriended her when she was still a convict on parole. She wasn’t worried.
The image of her best friend looking at her in terror came to mind, much against her will.
Okay, she admitted, I’m worried. Just a little.
She was interrupted from her musings by one of the reconnaissance birds sending her an alert. Leaving aside the previous train of thought, she established a connection and saw what the artificial bird was showing her.
It was her first look at Equestrian ponies. It was a good sized group of thirty, probably a patrol...
Wait a second.
Of the thirty ponies she could see, only five had proper armor on, and even so, the golden plates of the Guard looked pitted and roughly worn. The remainder wore a mishmash of thick clothing, half-rusted relics or planks of wood and sheets of metal hammered and nailed and fastened into improvised protection. Their weapons were similarly distributed, with sharpened sticks, clubs, knives and hammers outnumbering the swords and saddle mounted spears and held by ponies who looked like they scarcely knew what they were going to do with them.
Militia, she realized, those are militia. The Guard is supposed to be career soldiers, with years of training apiece, but these guys look like they don’t even know what to do with a spear.
//“Troops,” she said, forwarding the images, //“looks like things just got complicated.”
====================
Location unknown, Equestrian Diarchy
0600 hours.
In the earliest days of the land of Gryphus, when the ancient kingdoms still made war against each other, it was tradition that the bearers of bad news be someone nobody would miss for very long. In those days of mad kings and power-mad warlords, it wasn’t rare for the unfortunate messenger to be decapitated at worst and thrown into the dungeons at best, often on the spot.
Of course, that wasn’t the case anymore. Civilization had come to the griffins a long time ago, and with it came laws, rules, etiquette and decency.
That didn’t make Hauptmann Fredrick Adler any less nervous. In fact, the very distant and nigh unthinkable prospect of being killed for what the young, dark brown griffon from the Eastern Kingdom was about to say had nothing to do with his nerves. No, the source of his torment was that the unthinkable had occurred; the unimaginable had come to pass. Some horrible, terrible thing that had shaken him to his very core had happened, and had taken the strongest liquor in his cabinet to overcome. It had filled him with a great shame that his commanding officer’s very kind words would never be able to erase. It made him feel unworthy of his uniform.
“Herr Vizeadmiral,” he said, the following words tasting like filth as they passed his beak, “the troops are getting restless. Today I have had to put five dummkopfen into the brig for improper behavior. If we do not do anything soon, I fear there will be,” and here he shivered at the thought, “mutiny, sir.”
Vice Admiral Victor Skyfall, who was much older, slightly larger and of a lighter shade of brown with specks of white on his feathers, hailed from the Northern Kingdom. He, a changeling commander, and two more griffins, one of them a hen with no uniform and white head feathers, were at the map table, hunched over it and examining it as if the sheet of paper spread over it held the key to the universe.
The Vizeadmiral straightened at his proclamation. He turned, the monocle over his right eye glinting with the light of the electric lamp above.
“What sort of improper behavior, Adler?” he asked, “Tell me.”
“They… were questioning the mission, sir. They… they were doubting your abilities as a leader, sir.”
“Hmm…” the Vice Admiral mused, scratching his chin with a claw, “this most unfortunate. If your soldiers speak these things, ours must be speaking worse, surely.” He frowned, and Adler could almost see the gears turning inside his head.
“Come,” he beckoned, “soon I’ll get the chance to provide proof of my leadership. But, first, we must plan and plot!”
Adler walked over towards the table and reared up on his hind legs, resting his claws on the surface, careful not to damage the map. The largest sheet of paper depicted the entirety of Equestria, with a red crosses over the cities that hadn’t been included when the Princesses had made the country jump dimensions again. It was by the greatest of miracles –or the most disastrous of accidents- that they’d been pulled right along with them. Two Fast Carriers, three Battleships, five cruisers and a handful of Gunships. The lodestone-cored flying vessels might be the most advanced and powerful in the world, but cut off and surrounded, they could be in serious trouble. For now, they hid inside clouds over the wastes that the Equestrians couldn’t be bothered to patrol.
Even so, despite the seriousness and bleakness of the situation, he couldn’t help but smile at the victory stamp over Manehattan. That had truly been the finest hour of the Royal Navy; they had challenged a goddess and, with Equestria’s largest city as a witness, they had won. They’d beaten the Immortal Sun, this very battleship had been the one to wound her and it was only with the narrowest of escapes that she had survived.
They’d proven that Alicorns bleed. And if it bled, then the Royal Navy could kill it.
Victor Skyfall snapped his head towards the changeling. “How accurate is your most recent intelligence?” he asked.
“Very,” the insect buzzed, its wings fluttering in annoyance, “our agents are located in the messaging service of the Stalliongrad garrison. They are receiving orders to relocate out over the country to fill gaps, as they were the few who were not decimated. In a few weeks, the garrison will be empty, save for a defensive force.”
“And Stalliongrad itself?” Victor asked.
“The city is loyal,” answered a third voice, belonging to the hen, “Like nothing else. They’ve got churches there, freaking churches.” The hen rolled her eyes, and added, “Dweebiest dweebs I’ve ever seen.”
“Eet is ze history of the city, mon Vice-Admiral,” added the last griffin in the room, a tall, thin one with an eye patch and a rich golden color to his feathers and coat and a thick, Western Kingdom accent. His name was Captain Charles Berger. He continued, “once, there was a great famine, and the Princess led the relief efforts. Ze tale must have grown in the telling, monsieur.”
Adler retrieved a map of the city in question from the compartment under the table and spread it out. Giving it a thorough look, he pointed towards a cluster of large building in the country surrounding the city.
“What are these?” he asked, “they look like fortifications.”
“They’re actually armored storage for food,” the hen said, “they’re pretty paranoid about ending up without supplies.”
“Hmmm…” again, Adler could almost see the gears turning inside the Vice Admiral’s head. The griffin looked at the larger map intently, and then asked the hen a question, “What city, in your opinion, is the most likely to break their loyalty first?”
“Hoofington,” the hen said, without a hint of hesitation, “there are zebras, griffins, Minotaurs… hell, I even saw an elk once. There are all sorts of people there, and the ponies there are our friends. The only problem is that the place was crawling with Guards when I got there.”
“I thought the Zebricans were going to be attacking that city,” the Vice-Admiral recalled, “what is our Intel there?” he asked the changeling.
The enormous insect buzzed its wings. “Nothing, there is no Intel. I am still trying to contact the Hives’ agents, and it is difficult. But something is happening there. The city has gone dark, there is no news coming from it.”
“A quarantine,” Adler realized, “There must be some dissent, and they wish to contain it. But doesn’t that city get everything from trade?”
“Exactly,” Victor said, grinning, the light glinting off his monocle, “with no fields to get food from and their trading partners gone, what little arrives will be expensive, and it will be snapped up like a fish in a hatchery. They must be famished.”
Vice Admiral Skyfall’s grin grew devious, and he clasped his claws together in front of him. “Captain Adler, I have a solution to our problems and a way to bring the Princess to her miserable knees. This is the plan…”
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I claim the First Post
1933058Good story so far. It has pacing whichis good, and the characters are interesting. Also, CURSE YOU!
Hmmmm......I think I know who Mystery Hen is. She once referred to RD as 'flip-flop.'
Is that hen... Gilda?!
Also, not much more to say, other than the added chapter added quite a bit. So those griffins were taken when Equestria fled their planet? It seems the Calvin might have allies they don't even know about...
Finally it's updated I was wondering when it was coming out
Starve the ponies out...
1933218
Oh no, it's much more insidious than that.
They're going to feed the ponies.
Alright! Firebird: Grade A badass, and I have a special place in my heart of Sunny. Keep it going man!
Great chapter wonder how everyone will react when the Humans reenter the picture.
Much less infodump than the previous chapter. Which makes it easier to read.
And I immediately thought of Halo's ODSTs when they entered the planet's atmosphere.
"Sargeant" --> should be "sergeant".
Also, you really should double check to make your your ship's names are italicized
As for the Gryphons, I get the impression that the Western Kingdom Gryphons are analogous to the French. While the Eastern Kingdom Gryphons are analogous to the Germans.
Ohhh
the plot thickens! Will the Calvin recon crew cross paths with the gryphon resistance and help with the rebellion in Hoofington? I MUST KNOW!!! The suspense is killing me man! 
This finally updated?
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Yes..... may the ponies no true pain when they dare attack earth and humanity.
Awesome my good sir
A changeling?
Wasn't expecting that.
1933240
Yeah, feed them FREEDOM
i.imgur.com/PoRSN.jpg
1933496
Yes... the freedom of not being hungry!
Remember, they said the city most likely to betray Celestia was Hoofington. Hoofington is the city starving for supplies.
They're already angry at Celestia. If Celestia's enemies start offering them food, they'll dump the alicorn for the gryphons/changelings in a heartbeat. Hell there were protests in the streets there the chapter right before this.
quick question, does the dimension jump also travel across TIME as well?
im a bit confused at the time line here.
1)how long has it been for the humans since equestria disappeared from earth
2)how long has it been for equestria since they jumped?
1933240
I... Oh. Oh! And charge exorbitant prices for the food... He... He-He-He... Hah-Hah-Hah-Hah-Hah-Hah-Hah!
1933559
No, they'll give it to them for free. Specifically, to Hoofington, the city running low on supplies and already angry and feeling abandoned by Celestia.
Okay, I have to point this out, and please don't hate me for doing so. First, the dashes. Use a Em dash — (You can get it, by pressing Alt *numpad* 0151) if you're going to use one for punctuation. I see here you are using an En dash -, which is used for putting to words together. Next, you don't need that comma after the dash, since the Em dash serves as proper punctuation already.
I hope you don't hate me, and I hope you will take my advice.
I love how absolutely no one is commenting on the fact that the Gryphus Royal Navy, using WWII-equivalent tech (and airborne battleships) beat Celestia despite her having the power of the Sun to back her up.
1933573 ... meaning they'll gain Hoofington as an ally...
1933586 hey if she cant beat a nuke then hay I say anything could hurt her. Also she cant to squat besides move the sun and live forever she isnt really strong so ya its completely possible that celestia got beat.
1933587
Exactly. They won't conquer. They won't destroy, or steal. They'll rip Celestia's ponies right out from under her and the ponies will be glad for it.
It will hurt her so much more than merely taking them over ever could. The knowledge that her ponies saw her, as she truly is... and left her for those that defeated her, without any coercion, without any threats. Merely because her enemies were kinder than her.
First thing I thought when I saw 'giant subterranean worm': thresher maws.
Second thing: Tremors.
Rockomax? Aerospike? Retrograde? I'd almost be willing to say someone plays some KSP.
1933586 Sorry, I must have missed something. Where was it hinted the gryphons had WWII-era tech?
Fire fighting equipment or just exotic tech?
1933648
GENIUS!
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...Damnit.
So apparently some griffons and other races were unwilling stragglers when Equestria jumped dimensions? Cool.
Well, this just keeps getting awesome...er? I hope there are power armored gryphons in this story's future
When all else fails… turn to the Royal Navy.
Alright! Glad to have another chapter, and a long one at that! Can't wait for more! =D
1933586
Just finished the chapter, and actually I was really wondering about that. However since you've mentioned it, I'll state outloud here that I hope at some point in your story you have them either explain that or flashback to the battle. I'd love to know how they pulled that off.
So this was another fun chapter, and I'm really enjoying the story as a whole. It still feels a bit padded and wordy at times, but this chapter less so than the former. Good work and thank you for writing this. I still don't like TCB stories in general, but this one and it's predecessor have entertained me greatly, and i know I'll give other TCB stories more than a cursory glance before passing judgement from now on.
Carried, and that "in" doesn't belong there.
Wheehee, it's almost time for stuff to start happening! Can't wait for more.
1933586
Hoo boy, can't wait to see what damage she'll receive from the high tech weaponry of "ye old neighbors."
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Griffons!!!
An excellent second installment. I guess every terrifying environment needs to have worms. Firebird's really starting to grow on me. Evening Star was awesome from her first internet post in the first story.
More please. *holds out plate*
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Feed them PAIN!
Capital
If both of these paragraphs are from the same speaker, that bolded quotation shouldn't be there. Since it is it implies the second paragraph is from another character.
Shouldn't that be Ma'am?
I'm a bit late, so some of these might have already been pointed out.
1933586
That can be attributed to her talent being raising the sun. A pony's magic is strongest when being used for their talent, if I remember correctly.
1934487
I'm surrounded by fools who go straight for violence, when there are far more effective ways to harm the enemy than violence. The enemy is Celestia, and by giving the the ponies of Hoofington food, they will come to our side. By being the enemies who are kinder to her own citizens than she is, we shall unmake the work of her mind and her heart.
When we are done with her, she will be not be dead. But she will be destroyed.
1933586 And since a specific suit of armor has been mentioned in two chapters and more or less brought along, I'd be willing to guess that you have a Chekhov's Gun for Firebird to use on Celestia.
Also, Sunny is wonderfully endearing. I have absolutely no idea why she rubs Fibi the wrong way
.
1934509
C'mon, mate, it was a joke!
You have to wonder whether or not they have enough supplies to feel the better part of a city, and how the gryphon soldiers will feel about having to split their food, especially if they're already close to mutiny. The gryphons have been in hiding, and probably already burned through a lot of their supply, and it's safe to assume conflict has disrupted food supply due to the Royal Guard having locked down their food storage. If the gryphons are going to take those supplies for the ponies in Hoofington, they'll be fighting hard only to have to give up their winnings right after (depending on how much is there).
1934509
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Edit: damn double post.
I'm guessing that's another reason why Celestia ran? If Griffon tech could make her bleed our 21st Century tech would have ripped her to shreds. Also, I like Sunny. Mares got a mouth on her and I like that.
My best guess on how the Griffon Royal Navy, Zebrican Army/Navy, and Changelings won was through superior strategy and numbers. Celestia has been shown to be powerful and wise, but judging on her war on Earth; not the greatest strategist. Therefore was able to be out flanked by a far less powerful foe.
Hmm, so Equestria ended up bringing some of their enemies along on accident; how have they been eating?
Seeing as this planet is terribly troublesome for the Equestrian ponies, why didn't they just planet hop to somewhere safer?