> Timelapse
>  by Stik
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There were days when Twilight Sparkle wished she hadn’t dared to step outside into the inevitable turbulence of the world beyond her library door, and then there were others when she wished she hadn’t even tried to leave the warmth and familiar security of her bed.  Finally, there were the days she wished she didn’t exist at all.  Today felt as thought it was shaping up to be one of Those Days. 

Various jumbled thoughts bounced about the inside of her head, swept about like autumn leaves in the breeze, colliding with everything and generally getting in one anothers’ way until their poor owner couldn’t tell one from another.  Twilight squeezed her eyes shut even tighter and shook her head gently, trying to calm them down.  

The movement rewarded her with a wave of nausea and she stopped abruptly, taking deep, steady breaths to counteract, wondering just what it was she had done the day before.  For most ponies their thoughts might turn to what embarrassing things they had said and done after a few too many pints of cider, but for Princess Celestia’s most diligent and talented student these hangovers tended, more often than not, to be the result of over-eager application of magic to a problem that probably didn’t require it.

“Twilight!” came a distant, urgent call, breaking through the general background roar.  The sound of unsteady hooves thudding against the ground followed it and before long she felt a somewhat frantic poking.  Somepony laid a foreleg across her shoulders and began shaking her gently. 

“Too early,” she mumbled.  Her mouth felt dry, so terribly dry.

“Thank the stars,” exclaimed the voice, thick with worry.  “You’re alive.”

“Wish I wasn’t – Applejack?” Twilight managed, recognising her friend at last.  She tried to open her eyes, but they seemed reluctant to obey, and when at last they did crack apart she could see nothing but a dark, blurry mess, the lights wavering around disconcertingly.  She was certainly not in her bed.  

Applejack turned to yell over her shoulder.  “Rarity!  Get over here, Twilight looks… bad.”

“Mm’k,” she murmured groggily, trying to unfold her forelegs from under her body.  Everything was stiff and achy. 

“Whoa there, missy,” Applejack exclaimed, turning back to her.  Twilight felt strong hooves under her, supporting her weight as she swayed weakly from side to side like a drunkard.  

“My dear,” cried Rarity, suddenly filling Twilight’s vision, pure and white.  Her voice practically oozed concern.  “You poor thing, whatever did you do?”

Twilight blinked hard a few more times, trying helplessly to clear the gunk that clouded her vision.  Things started to come into focus, and she immediately began to regret that.

“I don’t know,” she began sluggishly, trailing off as she finally began to take stock of her surroundings.  Pinkie Pie was rushing over to the trio from some distance away, an unmistakable pink blur, looking out of place amongst the darkness and fire. 

Fire…?

Twilight stood up straight all of a sudden, eliciting a startled gasp from Applejack as she released her supportive hold.  A part of her wanted desperately to believe she was still asleep, the terrible scene all around her was becoming clearer with each frenzied blink, and her legs began to shake a little. 

The smell of burning timbers, burning thatch, and worse things still filled her senses like water rushing into a gaping hole.  The sky was black, thick clouds of smoke obscuring the stars, lit from below with a hellish orange glow as if Tartarus itself had opened up beneath the town.  She became aware of the roaring sound all around, punctuated by the sobbing and screams of her fellow ponies and occasionally a splintering crash as something gave way nearby and came tumbling to the ground. 

She stared mutely ahead, mouth moving but unable to find the words to speak.  

“Twi?” prompted Applejack again, moving to stand before the panicked mare, close enough that she filled her vision.  “Are you with us, Twilight?”

“I believe she’s in shock,” Rarity said.  “Come, let us go inside.”

Twilight let herself be led back to her home, mercifully free of flames.  Many windows were broken, however, so even with the thick front door closed the sound of pandemonium outside still came to them, thin and distant. 

“Oh my gosh, is Twilight okay?” came Pinkie’s hyperactive voice.  “Twilight?  Are you okay?  Are you hungry?  I have cake!”

Twilight blinked as a thickly iced treat appeared suddenly before her eyes.  

“Pinkie, hush,” said Rarity, pushing the offering aside and peering into Twilight’s eyes with a frown.  “Please say something, Twilight.  We’re here for you.”

“Fire.  Why?” she managed after a lengthy pause as she attempted to corral some thoughts back into their stables.

“Ooh, ooh, me, me,” said Pinkie’s voice off to one side, as excitable as ever.  “I know this one!”

“Pinkie,” Applejack warned, her voice low.  Pinkie slumped slightly and sat back on her haunches, trying hard not to speak.  

“You don’t remember, do you?” Rarity continued with concern.  “That villainous Discord attacked Ponyville outright.  You did… something.  I don’t know what.”

“Whatever it was, it worked really really well!” squeaked Pinkie, failing.  “Kablooey!  All gone!”

“Guys!” came a new voice from one of the windows above them.  The sound of rain was just beginning to make itself heard over the rest of the noise.  “I’ve found some of the old weatherteam, we’ve got some more clouds inbound.  Probably won’t stop the fire but it’s gotta help a bit.  Flutters is up there, helping them.  Who’d’ve thought it?”

Rainbow Dash pulled herself through a circular window and dropped to the ground, panting from the exertion of zipping about in the darkness and the dust.  She coughed a few times before shaking some of the water from her wings.  “There’s a lot of smoke up there, can’t see a thing!”

“Good thinkin’, Dash,” said Applejack with a nod to the pegasus.  “We need all the help we can get right about now, I’d say.”

Discord.

All the jumbled thoughts in Twilight’s head had vanished, driven away like fish from a shark prowling in their midst.  One thought remained, one terrible name that echoed on and on.  With a gasp Twilight recalled the fight, the frightening, unforeseen attack on their home.  This time had been different, this time Discord had been taking no prisoners, gone was the chocolate rain and psychological tricks, replaced with monsters from nightmares and dying townsfolk.  

“He was falling, wreathed in unholy fire like a demon from the deepest depths, about to deliver the killing blow to the town,” she breathed, voice hoarse but steady.  “I’d seen that elsewhere, other towns laid to waste, nothing but a smoking crater.”

Rainbow Dash gulped visibly, nodding slowly.  “I cast…” Twilight stopped, unsure before trailing off into a near sob.  “I don’t… remember.” 

“There, there,” crooned Rarity, wrapping her forelegs around her friend’s neck and nuzzling the side of her head.  “Whatever you cast, it worked.  We’re still here, and that vile beast is gone.”

Twilight leant back against her dear friend, but couldn’t bring herself to smile.  “Where’s Spike?” she asked quietly.  There was a gut-wrenching pause, a heavy silence in the air.  Twilight looked around expectantly, eyes wide with a desperate hope.  

“He’s gone,” said Rarity, as gently as she could.

Twilight shook as she swallowed back a sob.  “...dead?”

“By Celestia, I hope not,” she replied, squeezing Twilight tighter.  “He just… disappeared.  He was by your side, before you… by your side during the fight.”

“Oh Spike,” Twilight cried, falling to the wooden floor with her hooves over her head.  The other four mares looked at the floor, unable to watch.  “What have I done?”

“Now, come on, girls,” said Applejack with forced calm.  “Discord may have been sent runnin’ like a scared cat, but the town still needs us.  Equestria still needs us, we’ve gotta put the fires out and help the injured, bring some order to the town!  Spike wouldn’t want us mopin’ around like this.  More’n likely he’s just run off to help somepony, he is fireproof, after all.”

Twilight sniffed hard and blinked away the tears, meeting her friend’s firm gaze square on.  There was no arguing with Applejack.  “Of course.  How can I be so thoughtless.”

She hopped to her hooves, shaking her head to clear the last of the fuzz away and strode to the door to peer out into the darkness.  Organisation mode had temporarily displaced panic mode.  She quickly drew up a mental list, all the things that needed doing, sorted neatly in strict priority order.  

Outside the torrential rain was hissing and spitting on the hot fires nearby, and already things looked a little less… flame-y.  Up in the clouds she could just make out the shapes of many pegasi flitting around, trying their best to marshal the unruly storm clouds into formation.  Behind her she felt a rush of air ruffle her fur and feathers as Rainbow Dash took to the air with a powerful beat of her wings.  

Pinkie Pie shot by her, inexplicably having found a red hard-had and pulling a long firehose behind her.  “Huh, didn’t know we even had one of those,” she mused.  She turned around in the doorway to address her friend.  “Rarity, can you head to the hospital and make sure they are prepared?  I have a feeling we’re going to need all hooves on deck, very soon.”

“Of course, Twilight.  I happen to know a little first aid, myself, in fact.”

Twilight took shakily to the skies, intent on helping the weather teams.  Rainbow Dash was a competent and charismatic leader, and exceptionally well suited to her role as captain of the local weather teams, but her understanding of fire-fighting was limited at best, and Twilight could already see how to better use their available resources to best effect. 

The act of organising and just doing something helped to calm her fraught nerves, giving her something to focus on to relieve the grief that was waiting patiently in the wings, ready to jump out if she gave it a moment.  Sadly it didn’t do much to soften her headache, but that would fade in time, it always did.

Spike was down there, somewhere, she knew, helping out, being the best little assistant he could be.  Number One, through and through.  Twilight peered through the rain and smoke, almost certain she could see a flash of purple darting between the houses, or the tip of a spaded tail waving in a doorway.

Her distraction cost her when a voice cried a wordless exclamation a moment before Twilight found herself entangled with another pony, wings beating uselessly against one another.   They fell as one for a second, tumbling in the rain and she uttered a little squeak of filly-like terror.  Suddenly they were apart again, and she gasped as an instinct she’d only recently discovered she had took control, her wings snapping open to catch the winds one more, the subtle magic woven into the feathers pushing back against gravity. 

“Sorry!” said a grey pegasus, hovering in place and wringing her forehooves behind her back with a nervous grin.  “My bad.”

“No, Derpy, it’s my fault,” Twilight apologised, recognising the former post-mare.  Somehow the mare’s lopsided smile suddenly cheered her up and she shook the water from her mane.  “I should look where I’m going.”

Derpy turned to go, hearing the call of her team leader.  “Say, miss Sparkle, thanks for saving us!” she called over her shoulder.  “You are very braaaavvveee…”

“No problem,” Twilight called back into the howling wind, but the pegasus was long gone.     

From her vantage point she could see down over the town, and despite her vision being limited by the smoke, rain and cloud she could tell that the whole town wasn’t on fire.  Just a large part of it.  There was damage elsewhere, crushed buildings and debris littering the street, but the worst of it was in the town’s busy centre.  As she watched and directed from the skies she could see the spread of fire lessening piece by piece until the town fell into darkness once more, only the glow of embers visible in the darkness.

The weather teams kept the rain coming for some time afterwards, thoroughly soaking everything to be on the safe side.  Heedless of the deluge, many ponies were out in the streets, many carrying lanterns, many lighting their way with the glow from their horns.  Twilight descended to the ground, fur thoroughly soaked through, but somehow it didn’t seem so bad, the rain carried with it a cleansing sensation, washing away the soot and dust, turning the hard ground into mud and hiding the real damage.  The cool water soothed her aching horn.  A pony could imagine it was simply another soggy day if they didn’t look up. 

The atmosphere was a peculiar mixture of relief, jubilation and sorrow, and it seemed as if nopony really knew how to express their emotions.  Many simply wandered the sodden streets, splashing from puddle to puddle and staring at the devastation as if in a dream, others were grinning from ear to ear as if life could simply get no better.  They had escaped near certain death, Twilight supposed, and had reason to feel that life had colour again, even if it was night-time. 

She looked up at the skies, hoping to see Luna’s starry canvas painting the heavens, but of course the heavy clouds and wisps of dark smoke till lingered, dropping the last of their rain into her upturned face.  

It took longer than usual to clear the clouds away, later that night.  All the pegasi with the skill had been working for many hours, harder perhaps than many of them had ever worked before, and quite understandably they were exhausted.  Once the clouds did begin to part, however, there were gasps from all those still assembled in the street. 

“Look, mummy!” a small colt cried.  “Shooting stars!”

“Make a wish, Spiral,” his mother whispered.  

“There’s lots of them!  Can I make lots of wishes?”

His mother simply nuzzled the top of his head with a smile, and Twilight felt a weight lift from her heart.  There was still light, even in this frightful darkness.  

As she stared up at the stars her mind began to wander, many of the thoughts that had been scared into hiding earlier crept back out from the shadows, accompanied by many new ones, some more worrying than others.  Twilight tried hard to recall any passing comets she might had overlooked, but nothing came to mind.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said a soft voice from close by.  “Sometimes, when I was feeling lonely, I’d go and sit in the meadow and just stare up at the sky for hours and hours.  Sometimes I’d see a shooting star, but my wishes never really come true.”

“I am glad to see you, Fluttershy,” Twilight said with a sigh, moving to embrace her pegasus friend with a wing.  The yellow pony pushed back warmly, and even though she was soaked through and streaked with mud her honest, kind expression was as clean and pure as it had ever been. 

“I… um… I hope you didn’t mind that I left you to help,” she said, looking down at the floor.  “There was so much… pain… down here.  I couldn’t… couldn’t…”

“It’s okay, Fluttershy, you did the right thing,” Twilight told her, leaning down to meet her friend’s gaze.  “I’m proud of you for what you did, I know how much you dislike flying and weather duty.  We all needed you this time.”

“It was nothing,” she said, still not meeting her gaze.  “You… you did far more.  That was very brave, facing… him… like that.”

“We all do what we can, Fluttershy,” she said sombrely.  Up in the sky the somewhat spectacular display was getting ever brighter, the streaks of light coming every few seconds, little starbursts reflected in hundreds of wide eyes.  The thoughts inside Twilight’s head whirled ever faster and she winced, scrunching up her eyes as her headache returned.  Her horn ached from whatever it was she had cast, and her wings ached from flying for so much longer than she was accustomed to.  

“How long do you think we’ve been out here?” she asked.  “I mean, this night feels awfully long, doesn’t it?”

“One heartbeat of this night would have been too long,” the quiet pegasus said wistfully, looking back up at the stars.

Twilight glanced behind her, finding her friends all reunited as a group, dirty and tired but safe.  All eyes were on the spectacle in the sky.  Even Pinkie was lost for words for once, still except for an arrhythmic swishing of her tail from side to side.  Almost… twitching.  The hairs on the back of Twilight’s neck tingled, a sensation that should probably be put down to the cool wind that blew over the damp ponies. 

“I do wonder which comet it is,” Twilight mused aloud, eyes narrowing as she watched a particularly bright streak that seemed reluctant to burn up.  Instead it seemed to get brighter and brighter, so much so that the other trails faded into nothing by comparison.  Twilight squinted further, trying to make out detail.  All around there was a shuffling of hooves and a rustle of manes on fur as ponies looked at one another, questions on their lips.  They’d all seen shooting stars before, but never quite like this.

Several streaks in the sky were getting brighter, so bright now that they were casting visible shadows.

“That’s not a comet,” Twilight hissed breathlessly, her voice strangely absent.  The tingle in her neck turned into a full-on shiver at last, the hairs standing on end.  There was a lot of movement now, ponies shuffling closer to one another, sensing that something new was happening. 

“Everypony take shelter inside!” Twilight suddenly howled as loud as she could, lighting her horn brightly for attention.  “Move!”

Dull thuds and rumbles like distant thunder came throbbing through the air, low and ominous but growing in intensity as the lights in the sky became too bright to watch.  There was panic now, ponies screaming as they ran in all directions like an upset termite nest.  Twilight grabbed Fluttershy, who seemed to be rooted to the spot, the glare reflected in her eyes.  As a group they fled back to the library, as always Twilight’s stronghold in times of need. 

“What’s happenin’, Twi?” called Applejack as they ran.  “Is he back?”

“I don’t know!” Twilight wailed in reply.  Rarity was by her side, thick mud splashing up against her pure white flanks like paint, but she seemed heedless of it as their hooves splashed forwards.  “Where are the Elements?  We need to mount a defence.  Rainbow, can you round up the guards?  Get them here, and anypony with strength enough to stand.”

“I’m on it,” she said, and was gone in a streak of colour.  Rainbow Dash was nothing if not dependable in a crisis.

“The Elements disappeared,” Pinkie said, appearing suddenly to Twilight’s side.  She had somehow avoided the worst of the mud, Twilight secretly thought that she didn’t slow down long enough for anything to actually stick to her.  “When you did your super-duper magic thingie, they just went ‘Pop!’ and that was it.  Well, they didn’t actually make a pop noise, but they should have done.  Or maybe a fizzle.  Fizzle-pop?  Yeah!”

“What?  All of them?  Great,” she growled in frustration.  “Discord must have done something.  I wish I remembered what I was casting!  Did I just simply teleport him away?  Maybe I caught them in the marker, too?  No, they’re too dissimilar, it would have been more effort, unless there was something wrong, and I had to do it.  But why?   Oh, Celestia, I wish you were here.  You’d know what to do!  Why would I teleport the elements?  It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Twilight, you’re rambling,” Applejack warned gently as they skidded to a halt outside the library, turning to face outwards.  Any reply was bitten off as the five turned to look upwards.  The intensity of the light had faded, but it had made up for it in quantity.  Many bright lights were discernable now, moving roughly like a flock of birds, wheeling and twisting around one another as they drew closer.  A trail of black smoke followed a couple, and a loud roar could be heard all around, echoing off the hills and buildings.  Fluttershy cowered behind them, inching back towards the library with her wings over her head while Applejack tried to comfort her with one eye still on the sky. 

Rainbow Dash returned with a team of pegasi in tow, a motley collection of tired soldiers and guards, followed by a group of even sorrier looking residents wielding whatever weapons they could.  Further behind on the ground many more earth ponies and unicorns hurried towards them.  Twilight’s heart fell, at least before they were awake and alert, now everypony was exhausted and their numbers reduced.  Too many had fallen.  

To ice the cake of despair they had lost the Elements of Harmony, their most powerful weapon.  “I’m so sorry, everypony,” she whispered to the air.  She forcefully swallowed back the lump in her throat and spoke louder, trying to keep her voice clear and steady.  “Whatever happens, keep together.  We sent him running before, we can do it again.  Ponyville won’t succumb to his tyranny!”

There were some vague, muffled cheers, lost amongst the roaring.  She wasn’t sure anypony would believe her, she certainly didn’t.  Something shot overhead, impossibly fast and with a high pitched scream that set teeth on edge, moments later a shockwave of sound rattled the remaining windows and whipped surface water into spray.  

From somewhere in the town there was a deep thud and a glowing projectile rocketed up through the sky, hissing and sputtering as it spewed white smoke like an impossibly long tail.  Guided by magic it tracked one of the other incoming objects until it was lost against the glare, and then in the blink of an eye it exploded into a shower of colourful sparks, strangely cheerful amongst the backdrop of devastation.  Another two or three rockets followed, whistling up through the night sky to meet their targets.  While they didn’t seem to do much to deter their trajectory they did create a bit more of the sickly looking black smoke, and Twilight couldn’t help but feel a little cheered.  

“Haha!” laughed Applejack.  “It’s that green unicorn, with her darned fireworks!  She did a show at the reunion last year.  Take that, ya big patchwork quilt!”

As if summoned the pony in question came rushing up as more makeshift rockets tore through the air.  Her horn was alight, and she wore some strange headpiece full of crystals and delicate metalwork and lights.  

“I’ve found a use for my range amplifier!” the light green pony told Twilight breathlessly, the device bobbing around atop her head alarmingly as she grinned proudly.  “Hi, I’m Lyra, by the way, Lyra Heartstrings.”

“Nice to meet you,” Twilight replied, nodding.  “How are you…?”

“Launching them?  Remote!  Been working on this for a while, finally found out what it’s for.  I’ve got batteries all over town now, about fifty of the big ones at least.  That big meanie is going down.”

Some more rockets found their marks in the skies above, and the specks of light were beginning to react, weaving and dodging in an effort to avoid the barrage.  One of the pegasus guard units had taken to the sky and was tracking another.  Twilight squinted and realised that two of the pegasi were carrying unicorns on their back, and as they got closer to one of the injured lights they started throwing small, crackling balls of magical energy in its direction.  

Abruptly one of the other lights turned and hurtled back towards their injured comrade, thin lines of flashing light piercing the sky.   Two ponies fell from the sky suddenly, almost without warning and Twilight watched with horror as they plummeted to the ground with thuds she could almost hear.  She shuddered and tried not to be sick.  Somewhere nearby another pony had not managed to restrain herself. 

“Come back!” she wailed hopelessly, the pegasus team were too far away to possibly hear, and to her dismay another two teams had seen their friends fall and had taken to the air, intent on doing something, although it was anypony’s guess what. 

“Launch more of your rockets,” Twilight ordered, “we’ve got to distract those things.”

The others were circling overhead now, their speed greatly reduced.  Twilight could see now that they were craft of some sort, like the winged chariots the princesses and the very wealthy would ride about in from time to time, only these weren’t pulled by ponies, and they were far, far bigger.  Their shape was sinister, long and pointed, curved like an enormous griffon talon. 

All at once a hundred trails of light ascended into the sky with a whoosh that outdid even the howling aircraft, and Lyra screwed her face up in concentration as she directed them all individually.  

They had the desired effect, distracting the craft from the oncoming pegasi and forcing them to break their pattern, scattering to the edges of the sky before coming screaming back over the town like banshees, small rockets of their own tracking back down into the town, seeking the hotspots where Lyra’s fireworks had launched.  

Applejack saw the danger in time. “Get under cover,” she yelled, forcefully pulling Twilight back into the shelter of the library just as tiny metal projectiles thudded into the ground around them, spitting up angry little fountains of muddy water.  All around the town the situation was the same, ponies running for cover and bullets kicking up spray.  Some were unlucky, falling in the streets, dead or dying.  Twilight cried out in imagined pain, falling to her knees as she watched the slaughter of her townsfolk. 

The onslaught stopped briefly as the craft passed overhead but in the distance they could be seen banking for another pass.  Applejack and Rainbow dashed out during the brief lull, seeing their chance, and ran from body to body, dragging those still alive into the safety of doorways or under fallen walls and masonry.  The terrible machines screamed overhead again, shaking the ground with the intensity of their passing and raising more walls of water and chipped stone.  

Rather than overshooting the town again the aircraft slowed and began to dive, stopping short just before impact with the ground.  Twilight squinted from behind the doorframe, trying to watch them, it looked very much as if they were coming to rest on the ground, and if she had her bearings right then they were in one of Ponyville’s town parks, not more than a few minutes away. 
	
	
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was becoming difficult to hear oneself thinking over the bleating of countless alarms and the thunderous sound of atmospheric entry.  Their ship’s spaceframe shook and trembled as if feverish and the thousands of little lights that speckled the instrument clusters in the cockpit danced wildly in Riley’s vision.  The crushing force of their rapid deceleration was certainly not helping his focus, either.  

Their entry into the unknown planet’s atmosphere had been difficult, their hurried and unplanned exit from sub-space had brought them in at completely the wrong angle and in far too low an orbit.  They had spent what remaining fuel they had to be able to correct just enough to avoid burning up.  For a few of their fleet even that had not been enough, prior damage had left weak points that proved fatal under the stress of hitting an atmosphere and their ships had gradually disintegrated and tumbled wildly before the individual pieces burnt away to nothing, one by one.  

“Report, please, lieutenant-commander Collins,” the admiral was barking.  How he managed to sound so strong under the conditions was beyond Riley’s comprehension.  The man was like a machine, sometimes, and coming from a cybernetically augmented engineer such as himself that was quite a compliment.

“Sorry, sir,” he replied, straining to draw air into his lungs, fighting against the invisible hand that crushed against his chest and every part of him.  The air in the cockpit was hot and close, almost too thick to breath, like sitting in treacle.  He blinked the black specks from the edges of his vision, flicking through the various menus on the screens in front of him and absorbing the information.  

“Our entry was sub-optimal, sir, hull temperatures peaked at eighteen hundred K before we engaged ablative cooling.  Deceleration is on target, we’re in a controlled dive at eighty klicks and ready to approach stable flight.  Current descent at eleven hundred metres.”

Their descent was slowing now, the unrelenting force on his body beginning to lessen, and while it was still at many times normal gravity it began to feel as if he was as light as a feather.  He took deep breaths, lifting his head slightly to peer out of the gap in the heat shield currently covering most of the front viewport.  The white hot glow was starting to fade to orange, flickering flames tearing by faster than they had any right to be going.  As he loosened the belts across his midsection he could feel the shirt peeling away from his back, soaked in sweat. 

“The others?” the admiral asked, and Riley’s eyes scanned the detailed telemetry data from the other ships in their wing, his comprehension of the data hugely improved by the implants in his head and eyes.

“Alpha Seven, Fifteen, Sixteen and Twenty have burnt up, God rest their souls,” he reported sadly.  He fondly remembered dancing with the pretty young engineer from Fifteen at a party a few weeks earlier, before they shipped out.  Another spark, extinguished for good.  He carefully pushed the thought away and turned his full attention back to the consoles, there would be time for grief later. “Alpha Five is intact but uncommunicative, sir, all other craft report minimal damage from entry and are, at present, under sufficient motive power to arrest descent.  Alpha Eight and Twelve report imminent propulsion failure and request permission to descend for attempted landing.  We’re seeing heavy interference on most bands.”

“Very good, the fleet is to remain in formation and maintain a steady descent, slowing to 100 metres by fifty klicks.”

Riley nodded, relaying the commands to the other vessels and his own crew.  Behind him the admiral was speaking to one of the other four people in the small bridge.  “Kagermann, where are we?”

The engineer pulled a face, he didn’t like Kagermann at all, she was rude and brash, and prone to sudden impulses, not qualities he thought were redeeming in a navigator.  While he couldn’t see her face directly he could well imagine the snooty, aloof look on her face, and the slight sneer as she reworded the information on her screen, as if the admiral couldn’t have understood it himself. 

“Admiral, our exit from subspace was discontinuous, frankly, we’re lucky to be here.  Our vessel hasn’t fared so well, I’m afraid we’ve lost the transceiver grids, can’t fix our location.  Atmospherics are good, though, Hell, this could almost be Earth, apart from a few trace elements.  Mostly nitrogen and O2, that’s oxygen.  Pressure agrees with my models.  Gravity at point nine-four G, so pretty close to home.  We’re gathering more data as we slow, although visuals are not showing much for now, looks like we came in on the night side.”

“Very good, keep me informed.”

Riley focused his attention on his own tasks, there was a lot to be done.  They had sustained significant damage to their delicate communication arrays during the sudden jump into that peculiar space between spaces.  Their deceleration had slowed now and the hull cooled sufficiently for the heat shields to grind back into their recesses, revealing the darkness of the alien world they had reluctantly crashed into and allowing him to thoroughly inspect the damage as heat-sensitive systems came back online.  

Things could have been a lot worse, he knew, so far it didn’t look as though they had been pursued, their attackers seemingly unable to follow their risky last-second subspace jump, taken almost on faith that the locator grids would be able to fix a position against known disturbances quickly enough, before the drives were able to tear them out of the very substance that made up their universe.  Fortunately, the computers had found a lock at the last nano-second and they had burst out into an unknown territory some immeasurable amount of time later.  Unfortunately that was the last jump they would be making for some time, all the hardware that powered it was now offline. 

Also in their favour was the outlook onto the planet they had ended up crashing into, from what they could see so far it was extremely hospitable, all things considered.  If they could find somewhere to land soon then they would have a fine chance at turning the whole sorry situation around again and be back on their merry way, or at the very least able to get an emergency call out to the rest of the space-fleet.  Of course, it would have been nice if they had been able to emerge from subspace into a slightly higher orbit so that they would have had some time to study the planet from orbit before attempting a landing, but he knew better than to leave his blessings uncounted. 

“Sir,” came a crackling voice in one ear, a transmission from one of the remaining other seventeen craft in his fleet to his admiral.  “Captain Jameson reporting.  Our surface scanners are picking up unexpected readings.  The chemical composition of the atmosphere suggests abundant carbon-based life, which is exciting in itself, but more interesting is the background noise, on more thorough analysis it’s underpinned by some sort of structure, faint but distinguishable.  It’s likely this planet is colonised.  We should proceed with caution…”

“… they might already be here,” Williams finished for her, his voice much clearer in Riley’s earpiece.  “Understood, Jameson.  Get Two and Three to link sensors, we need to be sure.”

Riley’s palms tingled, this was a worrying development.  He had already pulled the sensor logs from the other ship and was watching with interest the data streams as another two linked their sensor arrays, coming close to doubling their effective resolution.  

He squeezed his eyes shut, paying attention to the processors in his implants, letting the data wash through his mind like a warm shower, soft and gentle.  It was soothing and in sensory isolation he was able to see patterns and links that the human mind would normally miss.  A part of him worried about what was coming, if it was colonised by someone then there were only three possibilities, humans, some unknown aliens, or the frightening insect-like Thala, currently mankind’s fiercest nemesis, and the primary reason for their current predicament. 

He was almost certain it wasn’t humans, they would have picked up decipherable communications from the moment they touched the top of the mesosphere if there had been any human colonies nearby.  If it was the Thala, then they didn’t stand a chance,   they were out of fuel, out of luck, their ships were badly damaged, and their morale was at rock bottom.  They would not survive another encounter, that much was certain. 

The third option seemed even more remote, in the two hundred years since mankind took to the stars they had found only three other intelligent races amongst the thousands of planets they had visited.  Two of those seemed happy enough on their own worlds and content in a way mankind could never be, and the third had attacked near enough the moment first contact was made.  Hope was certainly in short supply. 

Their ship shuddered once more as they traversed some unseen boundary, turbulence rocking them hard enough to remind them they were not out of the danger zone quite yet.  As they descended lower and lower into the atmosphere they began to fly rather than fall, and their vertical velocity was slowly transferred into horizontal. 

“Sir,” the co-pilot piped up, a young lad barely out of flight school.   There was a definite hint of hope in his voice.  “We’re picking up unknown transmissions in the millimetre band.  It’s definitely not us or the Thala, that’s for sure.”

Riley’s ears perked and he opened his wide eyes, micromechanical irises whirring eagerly as he turned to look at the lad, briefly catching the admiral’s eye.  “Is it decipherable?” 

“Working on it, Mr Collins, but… I don’t think so.  There’s not enough data to go on, it’s pretty hard to even detect it over the background noise.”

Admiral Williams turned back to his own screens, brow furrowed, and Riley realised he was looking a fair bit older than he used to.  He had been something of a fixture in Riley’s life since he first met the man at an event during his school, over fifteen years ago.  It was Williams who had encouraged him to sign up to the cybernetics programme and had even sponsored him through his subsequent degrees.  When his ship had needed a science officer Riley had pretty much strolled into the job and simply sat down, as if the chair had been his all along.

He felt a sudden pang of sadness for the stoic admiral, while Riley felt a little responsible for the wellbeing of some of the junior techs who had joined their fleet he suddenly realised the weight that must rest on Williams’ shoulders, the needs and safety of the six hundred or so crew members in his fleet.  Of those, little more than half were left alive with them at the moment.  No wonder he looked tired. 

“Light!” cried out the co-pilot suddenly, pointing through the darkness.  Riley’s head snapped around and he peered out into the darkness, the mechanical augmentation in his eyes switching immediately to wideband analysis and sweeping the spectrum for whatever was out there.  The ship’s outboard cameras did the same, tracking his movements and further enhancing their perception. 

“Looks like fire,” he announced calmly.  “Bearing zero-six-fiver.”

Kagermann responded, “got it.”

“Should we investigate, sir?” Riley asked, turning to look at his old friend.   Could it really be a new race?  

The admiral seemed to hesitate, his eyes distant before he finally nodded.  “Yes, set our course, Kagermann.  Riley, relay to the others.  If our fleet is in as bad a condition as I think it is, we’re going to need all the help we can get.  Let’s pray they’re friendly.”

Their ships sped forwards, some of the others in their formation struggling to maintain their positions accurately and weaving around the sky on failing engines.  They had to land soon or someone was going to fall out of the sky, Riley was sure.  He turned his attention to the ground as it flew by, they were low enough for the powerful arclights under the belly of the ships to begin to illuminate the terrain.  Everything appeared to be forests as far as he could see, interrupted by the occasional body of water or small river, but mostly undulating plains covered in trees.

Over the comm. Williams was still giving orders, calm and collected, his voice as steady as a marble pillar.  “Take us in carefully, maintain five hundred metres altitude, weapon systems online, everybody to their stations.”

He felt the craft bank underneath them as they adjusted their heading, the subtle change in engine note felt rather than heard.  “Alpha Three, take point,” Williams ordered, and watched on display as the least damaged of their craft accelerated past them, leading the limping fleet forwards.  

“My God, it’s a town!” Riley gasped as the first craft hurtled across the sky, powerful lights scouring the ground and illuminating the unmistakable shape of buildings.  Anything further he had to say was cut off as a loud warning echoed around the bridge moments before a shock rocked the warship.  

“Evasive manoeuvres!” Williams cried immediately, broadcasting to all vessels.  The lighting reactions of his pilot forced them back into their seats no sooner than the words left his lips and they careened back up into the night sky, sensors scanning the ground rapidly to ascertain the threat.  On the monitors he watched more projectiles leave the surface, tracking their ships with alarming accuracy. 

“Sir, Eight is unable to ascend, their drive is failing.  They must land.”

“Shit,” Williams swore, calm façade beginning to show some cracks.  “Take us down, covering fire only.  We are not going to lose anyone else tonight.”

“Alpha Eight to Alpha One,” came a panicked voice over the comm., broadcasting to the whole ship.  “We have engaged hostiles.  Repeat, we have visual on hostiles.”

The admiral leant forward eagerly, straining to see out into the night.  “Keep talking, Eight.”

“I don’t recognise them, I think they’re… they’re flying, with… wings…”

Without warning two bright blue flashes flared to life in the darkness and were propelled straight towards the struggling craft, a crackling spiderweb of lighting arcing over its hull as the orbs collided.  The communication link hissed static into Williams’ ear and he urged his own ship forwards.  Riley analysed the radio emissions from the blast, it had been some sort of electrical attack, clearly.  Number eight lurched around the sky violently, its stabilisation computers confused and urgently attempting to recalibrate and save the craft despite its rapidly failing propulsion systems.  

Riley’s own ship, Alpha One, was in range at last, and their weapons systems indicated target lock with a bleep before firing a volley, the staccato thudding of the chainguns vibrating somewhere under his seat as its pilots brought them about in a tight curve between their fellow soldiers and the unseen force, guns blazing and engines screaming in protest.  All around more rockets spiralled their way up from the ground, lighting the sky with a sickly white, blinding flashes washing out their vision and disorientating the weapon tracking.   

“Are they… fireworks?” the young officer asked incredulously after a few seconds, his mouth hanging open.  Sure enough another rocket burst against their hull, and brightly coloured sparkles danced across the viewports.  Williams stared for a second before shaking his head. 

“Damage?”

“None at all,” a report came back immediately.  “Were they warning shots?”

Williams growled, a furious sound in the back of this throat.  “Unknown.  Return fire.  Alpha Three and Four, strafe the settlement, hollowpoint rounds.  Shields at full power, be prepared to evade if necessary.  Fire at will.”

Two ships streaked back down towards the town, secondary guns spinning up and releasing a stream of bullets back down into the darkness, forming faint curtains of light that strobed chaotically in the gloom.  No more rockets came, and Williams brought his ship and the stricken Alpha Eight into a hover above a wide open space, flanked by many bushy trees.  As they descended to the ground a few tiny shapes scattered in the downdraft from their thrusters, running into the cover of nearby buildings and woods. 

The four vessels still in good shape remained in a circling pattern high above the town as the remaining craft landed heavily in the mud, armoured legs extending from beneath only to sink several feet into the sodden ground.  No sooner had the bulk settled then the rear of each ship hinged open and teams of marines dropped into the quagmire, forming defensive rings around each ship and setting up powerful floodlights to point out into the darkness. 

Riley turned to watch Williams unbuckling himself and leaping toward the hatch at the back.  He grabbed his assault rifle and shrugged his way into his battle armour without skipping a beat, the product of many years’ drilling and practising.  Riley was not quite as quick, it was rare he had to suit up, or even hold a weapon.  He kept it to a minimum, that training which was mandated by the space corps for his continued employment.  It wasn’t that he was particularly opposed to the idea, they were at war, after all, and the enemy wasn’t going to be going easy on them, but rather that he just never had the time.  There was always something else to be doing, a research paper that was arguably more important than one more grunt with a gun, and not a particularly accurate grunt at that. 

The ship was largely deserted by the time Riley had got his armour buckled across his chest and his sidearm strapped to his hip, outside the sound of battle could already be heard.  There were rapid but controlled bursts of gunfire, bright flashes like a fierce storm and the harrowing sound of people, and other things, in pain. 

His earpiece sat awkwardly in his ear and he tried to adjust it as he stepped out into the centre of what felt like a warzone.  All around officers were shouting orders and there were engineers running back and forth with crates and machinery, well disciplined and efficient even in an unfamiliar environment.

It did not take long before he met their attackers face to face.  Projectiles ricocheted off the metalwork of their spaceships and rapidly moving shapes flitted overhead, dropping what turned out to be heavy rocks and other debris.  The marines fired into the dark, and shapes fell with splashes into the puddles.  

“What they hell are these things?” someone shouted over the roar of pulse rifles.    Something about the size of a person fell nearby, splashing filthy water in their faces, and Riley winced, jumping to one side just in time.  He moved to approach it, curiosity overcoming the gurgling fear in his gut at last, but before he could reach the creature a sudden burst of multihued light knocked him backwards with a sound like a drop of water on a hotplate.  The soldiers nearby turned their rifles to the new foe, firing blindly.  The bullets bounced back at them, and one unlucky man took one between the eyes.  He fell backwards with a vacant stare.  Riley tore his gaze away, bile rising in his throat.   

He focused on his goal and crawled forwards, keeping low.  The creature that had fallen out of the sky was still alive, he could see the rise and fall of its chest, and as he got closer he could see it was about the size of a small man, four slender legs and a large, round head with surprisingly large eyes.  It gasped feebly, watching every move he made with clear terror across its expressive face.  Most peculiar of all were the wings, splayed out in the mud, unmistakable even in the shifting light.  

He was startled by his earpiece crackling loudly and he hit it with the side of his palm, cursing the poor design.  Why they couldn’t have integrated the thing with the rest of the electronics in his body he would never understand.  “… repeat, all units cease fire and switch to non-lethal force immediately.  Incapacitate only,” came the admiral’s voice, loud and clear at last. 

The gunfire took a moment to die out, replaced by the crackle of phasers and the thud of stun grenades.  In the relative quiet he could hear the strange alien chatter around them, screams and calls echoing in the air.  He surveyed the battle from above via a series of drones some of his technicians had launched during the battle and was pleased to see the switch to phasers had worked in their favour, the mysterious shields that had popped up all over the battlefield were not impervious to charged plasma, it would seem, and were dissolving rapidly as if made of smoke and blown by the wind.  No doubt the admiral had seen the effect the enemy shields had, some sort of kinetic reflector.

As much as Riley wanted to crawl closer to the fallen alien and investigate it more thoroughly he could see that it was a bad idea, he would be far away from the protection of the marines and instead wriggled backwards on his belly, returning to the safety of the line.  It watched him forlornly, the whole way. 

Their teams formed into tactical units and they proceeded to secure the immediate area with relative ease, widening their foothold in a foreign land until the entire field was clear of conscious opponents.  The creatures didn’t seem to have much in the way of organisation or tactical finesse as far as Riley could see, they just flew around somewhat randomly, sometimes charging on foot.  There were a few who seemed to possess some form of projectile weapons, electrical based as far as the ship’s sensors could detect, although Riley didn’t really have the facilities to do any thorough analysis at that time.  At any rate it was a kind of energy weapon they had never encountered before, and they lacked many defences to deal with it.  Several calls went out over the network for medical assistance as marines fell prey to the blasts. 

Riley worked his way back through the fighting to the centre of the area where the dead and unconscious natives were being sorted, those still alive were carried or herded into an annex formed by three ships and assorted containers, guarded by many soldiers.  He surveyed them properly for the first time, illuminated brightly by floodlamps and unable to move far.  A few were waking, and when one would try to make a run for it the marines on guard fired warning shots at the ground near their feet, their implication crystal clear.

“Fascinating, isn’t it, Riley?” the admiral said, appearing behind him quietly.  Riley started and turned, taken by surprise.  

“Very, quite remarkable,” he replied.   

“Never seen nuffin’ like dis, admiral, sir,” said one of the grunts within earshot, spitting into the mud.  “Th’ fuck are dey?  Horses or summ’t?”

“Language, private,” Williams admonished.  “You are witnessing the first contact with a new alien race.  I’d rather their first words not be your vulgarities.”

“No shit,” the soldier breathed, grinning widely.

Williams studied them closer, taking a few steps towards the group, numbering about twenty in total.  Riley hung back, a little unnerved by the things.  They were oddly coloured, bright and innocuous against the pitted, cracked hulls of the ships.

Those awake shuffled back away from the admiral, trying to pull their unconscious fellows back with them.  He fixed them with a level glare and slung his rifle over his shoulder.  A couple of the quadrupedal creatures seemed to relax at the gesture and Riley cocked his head slightly, observing silently.  There was intelligence behind the huge eyes.

A team of scientists from one of the academies were busy around the edges of the group, taking photos and pointing scanners, chattering busily among themselves.  Williams watched warily as one of them crept forwards, aiming for an outlier in the alien group with an improvised noose in one hand.  One of the aliens leapt forward, standing beside the injured creature and bared its teeth threateningly.  It shouted something in its own language, and while the words were unintelligible the intention was clear. 

“Keep away.”

The scientist hesitated, looking back at her superior questioningly.  The orange creature before her sure looked angry, its stance was steady but tense, the strong muscles in its hindlegs corded and ready to act.  Unlike the slender thing that nearly fell on Riley this one was thickset and powerful, also notable for not possessing wings like most.

The scientist’s leader gestured impatiently at the ring of armed marines, as if to say “what could happen?” and made flapping movements with his arms, urging her forward.  Riley watched Williams frown as the girl resumed her slow, crab-like walk, feeling intensely sorry.  He knew the admiral had minimal patience or liking for most of the science crew, especially for the top brass of that particular division, but to his chagrin he had precious little authority over them when in the air, and even less planetside.  Riley was always a little uncomfortably aware that his high ranking position in the guild was probably one of the reasons Williams had insisted he join his crew, he had some sway over the other science and engineering teams, and it gave the admiral a pet of sorts.

The scientist crept ever closer, making soft cooing noises as if talking to a baby.  Riley chewed his lip nervously, it seemed obvious what was about to happen, and when it did Riley had to admit that he was impressed, she (as he decided it was) hopped her hindquarters up in the air and turned on her forelegs to deliver a fearsome kick so quickly that the marines had not reacted until the poor scientist had come to rest some ten paces away, now with many broken bones.  

There was shouting and commotion on both sides, aliens rushing at the humans and marines shouting at them and one another, their weapons raised.  A few shots went off, one or two live, despite the admiral’s orders to use non-lethal force only.  At least one of the aliens went down heavily, and the rest seemed suddenly subdued, trotting wearily back to the centre of the ground as the humans shouted and gestured wildly. 

Riley jumped again as the admiral took him by the elbow, leading him firmly away.  “What have you observed?”

“There’s at least two separate races here,” Riley replied.  Williams nodded, and Riley realised he knew this already.  “Maybe three.”  Another nod.  

“The horned ones.  They’re in charge, and they have the weapons.  Do you think the horn is some sort of implant?”

Riley was impressed by Williams’ observations, even in the midst of a fight he was alert and thinking.  “Unlikely, so far I see no evidence of technology at all.  Look at the buildings, they’re like something from a fairy tale, all wood and plaster.  No, I think it must be a natural defence of some sort.  Fascinating, I look forward to analysing them in detail.  To think, John, we’ve stumbled upon a fourth sentient race!”

“And we immediately started slaughtering them,” Williams continued, looking away into the distance where the battle was continuing on the fringes, sporadic attacks coming from the trees.

Riley hesitated, suddenly aware of how it would look.  “I don’t think that’s entirely fair, they did attack us first.”

“With fireworks and rocks,” Williams spat angrily.  “Look at them, they look like children, cute faces, thick fur, fluffy tails.  The sum of their attack thus far has been party tricks and throwing themselves blindly upon our spears in the hope they might trip us up.”

Riley chewed his lip, looking round at the huddle of aliens being menaced by the marines.  One of the advantages of his implants was a significant improvement in memory and he vividly recalled the panicked expression in the fallen alien’s expressive eyes, terror and confusion and pain as it lay dying in the mud.

“We should try and communicate,” Riley urged.  “This is a unique opportunity to make contact with a new species.  Think of the things we could learn!”

“That is not part of our directive, and you well know it.  Any intelligence we gain while during our time here is welcome, but we cannot compromise our mission.  Others will come, once we return with news, they can learn.”

Riley opened his mouth to object, but the stern, unwavering gaze of his admiral told him the subject was not for debate, and he settled with a meek “yes sir”.  

“There’s one more,” Williams continued quietly, turning his gaze back to Riley’s.  “A fourth type, I’m sure I saw it.  Dark coat, with wings and a horn.  The only one I could see.  It’s a leader caste, or something, I’m sure of it.  They were protecting it, and it was keeping to the shadows, trying to direct this shambles of a militia.”

“You mean to find it?” Riley prompted, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yes, I’m assembling a team straight away, I know which way it went.  Will you come?  It will be dangerous, I know you are not a soldier, my friend, and I will think no less of you if you wish to remain here and take charge of matters more suited to your profession.”

Riley grinned, he always had the feeling Williams knew exactly what his reply was going to be, regardless of the question.  “Of course I’ll come, I’d welcome the chance to see more of this place.”

“Don’t get too involved,” Williams warned gently.  “This isn’t our mission.  We just need them to leave us alone for long enough to make repairs, then we’re out of here.”

They set out from the rear of their encampment a short while later, passing through the darkest areas and keeping to the shadows, a team of twelve in full night camouflage and moving silently.  Behind them they could heard the sound of hammering and construction as tents and temporary structures were erected.  From time to time came the whine of a plasma rifle or the shout of an alien but they left it behind quickly. 

Riley knew most of the team by name, having worked with most of the marines closest to the admiral before.  Deeba Patel was a solid woman, far stronger than he was, but she had been a good drinking partner and a very brief romance some years back when they had both been lonely.  He didn’t get to see as much of her as he would like these days, their different roles in the war machine kept them apart for much of their time, so it was difficult to resist taking the opportunity to whisper quietly to one another.

“Do you think they’ll let the admiral name this species?” she asked, jogging along close to him.

He shrugged and gave her a grin.  “Maybe, technically our co-pilot saw them first…”

“Williams has no imagination, we’ll end up with a really boring name like ‘tiny-horsians’ or something,” she said with a playful smile.  She knew his attachment to the admiral and enjoyed winding him up with petty criticisms.

“Ponies,” whispered another marine to her side.  Deeba stared.  “Small horses are called ponies.”

“Well, even that’s a little more imaginative than our original mortal enemy.  Do you know where the name Thala originated?”  Deeba shook her head.  “They were discovered by an Egyptian professor, he got the honour of naming them, right before they attacked us.  If you want a lack of imagination then you’ve got it right there, they were the third race we discovered, so he called them ‘Three’.”

“Three?”

“’Thala’, with some extra diacritics and mangled a bit, means ‘three’.”

Deeba huffed through her nose and pushed his shoulder as if she suspected he was lying to her.  

“Hush, you two,” Williams hissed at them, turning his glare on the two.  Riley felt deeply ashamed and avoided his eyes intently, a heat rising in his cheeks as if he were at school and caught throwing paper darts.  Deeba just grinned and stuck her tongue out at him, pushing him again until he scowled at her.

“Eyes at three o’clock,” someone hissed in the darkness and Riley turned his head, focusing his eyes in thermal mode.  A small glowing shape was approaching them purposefully and he switched back into the visible spectrum just as a piercing foreign call came from off to one side.  The young creature, now cemented in his mind as an alien pony, turned its head at the sound and looked back at the frozen troupe of humans once more.  Suddenly a full grown adult bounded into view before them and swept her young up and onto her back.  She turned to follow its curious gaze, spotting the humans immediately.  

“Safeties off, maximum stun!” called Williams abruptly as the mother screamed something and galloped off at a fierce pace, her little one hanging on and unmistakably laughing.  Suddenly they were being battered from all sides by wings, the cries and shouts of their alien attackers surrounding them, disorientating and a little scary.  Plasma rifles hissed and a few fell from the skies, twitching uncontrollably on the ground, unable to coordinate themselves. 

“With me,” bellowed Williams, sprinting out of cover with his team hot on his heels, charged plasma bolts illuminating the darkened buildings.  Riley risked a glance ahead, seeing where the admiral was heading – a large tree which inexplicably had windows and doors in its thick trunk.   As they drew closer he realised that ‘large’ didn’t really describe it properly, ‘absolutely enormous’ was far more accurate. 

The admiral charged straight at the door, barging at it with his shoulder.  Unlike in the movies, it didn’t give way, and Williams bounced off it with a pained grunt, falling to the floor and groaning.  Riley swiftly switched his rifle into burst mode and let rip a volley at the door, shredding the wood around the two sturdy, ornamental hinges.  A huge marine by the name of Wilkins took the initiative and shoulder charged it again while the rest of the team held off the increasing number of attackers they had attracted.  

This time the door gave way easily and Wilkins thundered through into the interior, quickly followed by the others and Williams bringing up the rear, favouring his good arm.  Fortunately the doorway formed something of a choke point and slowed their pursuers long enough for them to take stock of their new situation. 

The inside of the tree was remarkably homely, and thick bound books lined nearly every available wall.  An ornate staircase curved against the far wall, and the lavender pony that Williams had been following was standing at the top of it, mouth agape and shaking in barely contained shock.

From above them came a cry as a couple of flying ponies dropped from the rafters, diving straight at them.  In such a confined place there was little time to react and before many of them could get their weapons aimed they were being wrestled to the ground by the brightly coloured creatures.  Riley struggled with a frail light yellow creature who had basically sat upon him and was making little effort to actually restrain him as he wriggled underneath her.  He pushed her off him roughly and she fell to one side where she remained, cowering under a wing. 

Wasting no time he leapt towards Williams, grabbing the strangely colourful tail of the pony that had her legs wrapped around him and pulled hard, trying desperately to give the admiral some space.  The pony screeched indignantly and turned to bat at Riley with her wings, knocking him backwards and sending stars flashing before his eyes.  It was enough time for the admiral, however, and he threw off the white pony that was beating at his head, casting her a few paces away before leaping athletically for the staircase and swinging himself up as two more aliens collided head on where he had been a moment ago.  

Riley held his arms up in front of his face as another charged at him, head down and intent on knocking him a few days back.  The shock of the impact nearly dislocated his shoulders and he stifled a cry.  On his back and against a wall he had nowhere to go, and through the gaps in his fingers he saw his assailant above him, hooves raised high and about to crash down on his head.  

In the nick of time he ducked to one side, and wooden boards splintered up around him.  Frantically he groped about for his weapon, he would only get one chance and he was going to make use of it.  

The sudden sound of gunfire seemed to stop time, plaster and fragments of wood rained down on them.  All eyes, human and alien alike, turned to the source of the sound.  Riley felt a grin spreading.  The admiral was standing at the top of the staircase, one thick arm hooked around the leader-pony’s neck, the other with the hot muzzle of the weapon pushed against the side of her head. 

“Stop,” he shouted clearly.  “Stop.”

The room watched him for a moment, unmoving, and it was almost possible to see the gears turning in the natives’ heads as they looked at one another hopelessly.  Reluctantly the ponies released their human captives, shuffling off to the sides of the rooms.  A couple of them bowed down, pressing the underside of the muzzles to the floor in a clearly submissive gesture.  The rest reluctantly followed suit, all eyes on their leader atop the ledge.  

Riley stood carefully and shook off the dust, sneering at the giant red pony that had almost ended him.  He studied Williams’ hostage, she did indeed stand out from the rest of them with both attributes, and once again he found himself admiring the admiral’s attention to detail.  The plan had worked. 

Although it seemed unnecessary and cruel at first Riley had quickly seen the wisdom in parading the captured aliens through the town, as soon as others caught sight of the spectacle they became docile almost immediately, although it was still obvious they were highly agitated and in a state of some stress. 

The strange looking group marched swiftly back to the landing site, “ground zero” as the admiral had started calling it, and their captives were locked in a large metal storage crate, big enough for them to move around in comfortably.  Some of the engineers had cut small portholes from the side of the container to allow the ponies to breath, and more importantly to allow the agitated crowd that had formed a ring around the site to see that they were, in fact, unharmed.  

Through some elaborate games of charades Riley and a few of the other academics had attempted to get across the idea that they would not be harmed, so long as good behaviour was adhered to.  Trying to convey anything complicated took a lot of time and effort, and the lack of cultural understanding did not help, either.  Simple things such as facial expressions indicating happy or sad weren’t even universal, the ponies certainly appeared to have similar expressions but they had no guarantee they actually meant the same things in their culture. 

At any rate, over the course of the next twenty-four hours the ring of observers thinned a little, and after some shouted conversations between the prisoners and the crowd they seemed to calm down significantly, to the point where Williams allowed a few of the more influential looking fellows in the rabble to approach the prison so they may talk in more natural tones. 

Of course, always nearby were the science teams, recording and analysing everything possible.  Their language was every bit as complex as the variant of English spoken by the space-faring human race, and with such a limited set of conversations they were struggling to make much progress.  The ponies seemed wholly uninterested in joining in the project, and attempts to engage with any of the non-captives were frustratingly difficult.

Riley had allowed himself a few hours’ sleep to recover from the worst of the exhaustion borne of the previous thirty hours, before returning to the library with a team of guards and a couple of his closest science friends.  Together they had set about scanning a selection of the tens of thousands of the books in the library, sitting through the painstaking process of turning a page, taking a snapshot, turning the next page, ad infinitum, until Riley felt sure the skin on his fingers was going to wear away. 

Back at the ships the formidable computing power that usually ran the subspace modules had been bent to the task of pattern analysis, sifting through the vast collection of images and attempting to match recurring patterns.  The alien alphabet was utterly unlike the Latin one with which they were most familiar, and progress was slow on that front as well.  

Riley returned to camp many hours later, eyes streaming from his work and his head pounding.  The implants that allowed him such astounding mental acuity didn’t come entirely without drawbacks, some days it felt as though the machinery was trying to dig its way back out, the migraines could be crippling.  It was a common and badly understood problem with the devices, but it was a tradeoff that many were willing to take. 

As he trudged through the crumbling streets he looked up at the starry sky once more, their models of the system had determined that the length of a day was over one hundred hours, and a slow dawn was only about five more away, the sky in the east could already be seen to be brightening very slightly, a milky pink glow tickling the horizon.  At least that would lift spirits, he hoped.  The seemingly endless night had not done much good for peoples’ tempers, nor for his sleeping patterns. 

Back at their compound a second prison had appeared, built from a slightly smaller shipping container this time.  It had a lot more holes cut in it, as if the builder had forgotten it was a smaller box yet still made as many cuts as the larger one.  Inside were two ponies, one with an alarmingly pink coat and the other a light green unicorn.  The former was apparently asleep calmly while the other sat up like a large dog, face pressed up against a hole and watching everything around her with a slightly unnerving intensity.  From time to time some sound would attract her attention and she would rush around to another hole to poke her snout of that one instead.  

As he approached she spoke excitedly, gesturing wildly with her green forelegs.  He watched quizzically for a bit, one eyebrow raised.

“That one keeps trying to snoop around, sir,” a nearby guard said, by way of explanation.  “And the pink one’s just as bad.  If it hadn’t finally gone to sleep I was about ready to find a tranq. rifle.  Would not be quiet.”

“She,” Riley corrected. 

“Sir?”

“They’re both female.”  The guard glanced back at the makeshift cells, unconvinced.  “Rounder muzzles, smaller build, longer tails, smaller hooves.  Pay more attention, private.”

After checking on the computer teams to see where they were getting with their research Riley returned to his bunk, barely able to keep his eyes open much longer.  After a couple of hours’ restless slumber he was rudely awoken by the sound of gunfire outside the tiny windows in the prefab barracks.  

Outside the sun had risen a couple of degrees above the horizon, its weak rays beginning to warm the skin.  Riley ducked behind a stack of containers, fiddling with his sidearm and trying to reconnect to the local site net to find out what was going on.  In the skies many ponies were flying in something resembling a loose formation, splitting into groups to dive while the others dropped objects on the soldiers running around below to draw their attention.

It was a somewhat hopeless attack, and Riley was dismayed that they hadn’t learnt from the previous night.  The sense and feeling he had got from the town was one of peace and simplicity, despite all the destruction and smouldering ruins.  They genuinely didn’t seem like an aggressive race, their total lack of military sophistication certainly backed that theory up.  He struggled to understand why they were attacking again.

Without warning a bright flash of light burst above their heads, accompanied by a crack of sound that Riley would have put down to the shockwave from a supersonic aircraft, had he not known that all their ships were thoroughly grounded for at least a few more Earth days while repairs were carried out.  Above them the shockwave spread rapidly outwards, a ring of mist condensing at its boundary and refracting the early morning sunlight into a vast circular rainbow.   

As it passed overhead Riley put a hand to his temple, massaging the pressure he felt there.  His cybernetics crackled in distress, sending a barrage of meaningless impulses around his synapses.  Dizzy and sick he stumbled away, trying to find cover.  The other few augmented humans on the field were looking equally dazed, unable to think or move in a straight line.

His vision clouded and the edges of objects twinkled and flickered in his vision like the precursor to a severe migraine.  He struggled on towards the barracks, his external interface was in his flight case, perhaps he could temporarily disable the implants before they did some permanent damage.  He was dimly aware that the gunfire had stopped, and some of the lights that had burnt so brightly during the endless night were just restriking after their power supplies had finally reset.  From the edges of their compound the sound of charging hooves could be heard, and he saw a few men engaging in hand-to-hoof combat.

“Riley!” called a familiar voice, and he fell to his knees, barely able to see at all.  Strong arms were under his shoulders, holding him up.  

“Deeba,” he moaned.  “What’s happening?”

“EMP, bastards have more tricks than we thought.  Pulse rifles are all fubar,  sentry guns are out too.  Admiral’s furious, he’s arming the batteries on Alpha One.”

Riley bowed his head, feeling his pulse throbbing in his head.  Each heartbeat sent little black smudges creeping in from the edges of his vision, even with his eyes closed.  It did, at least, feel like the worst of it was passing.  A pulse powerful enough to knock out the generators would certainly cause the millions of little processors in his head to restart as well, it would take them a minute or so to resynchronise. 

The comms. net came back online with a crackle of static from Deeba’s radio.  “Incoming, dead above,” came an urgent call.  Riley looked upwards, seeing the blue pony whose multihued tail he had pulled in the giant treehouse bearing down at them at significant speed.  He could see the beginnings of a shockwave forming in a cone around the front of her and he shook his head in disbelief, it didn’t seem possible.

Fortunately it seemed that Williams had managed to restart the tactical computers onboard their ship and the ground shook with the force of the main gun as it tracked and fired on multiple targets.  Each shot left his ears ringing and he covered his head with his arms, cowering as Deeba held him.

Up in the sky it was having the desired effect, the blue pony squawked as she was knocked out of the sky, one wing shattered and flapping in the wind as she plummeted to the ground.  The rest of the airborne menace scattered, several more falling to the fearsome weaponry mounted on the front of their warship. 

On the ground the humans were gaining the upper hand even without active weaponry.  All of the marines were trained in close quarter combat and numbers were slightly on their side, not to mention tactics and discipline.  A scant few minutes after it had started the assault was over, repelled with minor casualties, and the big gun fell silent.  Riley’s implants finally calmed down and he felt strong enough to stand up unaided.  The lingering headache would last for days, he knew.

Out on the field their leader had somehow escaped from her prison and was crouched over the fallen pony on the field, an ethereal, otherworldly glow around the horn on her head.  Riley watched with interest, more evidence of their peculiar technology.  He gently shook off Deeba’s arm and moved closer, curious.  As he came closer he could see the extent of the damage, a round had pierced a wing, leaving a ragged, bleeding hole.  Worse, however, was the gaping wound in her hind leg, just above the knee.

A team of men was running towards the two, intent on breaking them up and re-securing their valuable hostage.  The purple pony didn’t seem to be paying them any attention however, and Riley realised she was crying, tears streaking the fur on her face as she cradled her dying friend.  Clearly in a state of panic she was also doing nothing to actually help, and without warning some part of Riley’s brain made a rash decision without the consent of the rest of it.
	
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight watched in horror as Rainbow Dash picked up speed, barrelling down through the high clouds.  The early morning sun-rays shone against her feathers, glittering off the light iridescent coating.  While her loyalty was commendable it was the most foolish thing to do at the time, they’d just seen how dangerous these… things were.  

The pegasi had been flying practise formations high up in the sky ever since the sun rose, as far as she could tell just for show than anything else, but now it looked like they actually meant business.  So many ponies had died already, and Twilight couldn’t bear anymore bloodshed.  

Truth be told, she was beginning to doubt her initial conclusion that these peculiar, frightening monsters were Discord’s creation at all.  They appeared to operate independently, and their motives were completely opaque.  She could see some of the logic in their actions, as technically Twilight had attacked them first, and in their attempt to capture her they had not killed a single pony.  The only deaths had resulted from what could probably be construed as self-defence.  

Now that she was their hostage they seemed peaceful enough, content to keep to their strange rectangular buildings and shiny tents and let the rest of the town go about its business, provided they kept their distance.  As far as she could tell they had no interest in taking anything the town had, not that there was a lot left worth taking after Discord’s handiwork.  If Twilight’s freedom was all that was required as collateral to keep the others safe then she was happy with that situation.  They had not treated them badly at all, a couple of the strange beings had been bringing them food and water, and the weather was not yet cold enough that they were uncomfortable in their plain metal boxes. 

But now Rainbow Dash was literally charging in headfirst, without first using her head for its primary purpose – thinking.  Twilight looked about nervously, wondering if she should teleport out of the prison and try to stop the overly courageous pegasus before she hurt herself and those that followed.  The risk was great, however – so far their captors weren’t aware she could teleport, and she wanted to keep a few tricks in her mane for emergencies.  Beyond that, she was aware her obedience was required, it was clear their captors could easily destroy them if they wanted, definitely best to try not to cause a nuisance, at least until they learnt more about their situation.

The bipedal creatures were starting to take notice, pointing and raising their weapons threateningly.  Twilight was aware they could use them in multiple ways, initially they had used fast moving pieces of metal that could pierce a pony right through, but almost at once they’d switched to some sort of magic-like weapon that merely hurt a lot and left ponies twitching on the ground.  Hopefully they would continue to do so, even if Rainbow did look truly terrifying, followed by a flight of ponies in whatever battle dress they could scrape together.

Too late Twilight realised what Rainbow was up to, and she cried out in dismay as the rainbow shockwave spread across the brightening sky followed by a crack of thunder.  If Rainbow’s plan was to cause chaos then she had certainly hit the mark, so to speak.  All around the alien encampment people were running and shouting in their strange language.  Yet more of them were pouring out of the buildings, weapons in their hands.  Twilight’s heart sank as a few more pegasi fell heavily to the ground, convulsing violently.  There would be many broken bones after such falls. 

The sonic rainboom did seem to have had some effect, she noted.  Many of the powerful artificial lights around the area flickered out as the shock passed, and almost all the guns fell thankfully silent.  From the trees and streets nearby there came the sound of cheering, and hundreds of earth ponies and unicorns came charging into the compound, all fighting to get to the centre.  A little flare of pride bloomed in her chest, her ponies were coming to rescue her. 

Unfortunately they were far outmatched in combat, the two legged creatures that looked as though they should be so unsteady on their feet were agile and ruthlessly efficient in their actions.  Many of them had knives, she observed with a nervous gulp, and they were every bit as deadly with those as they had been with the guns, slashing and punching and incapacitating in no time at all.

She craned her neck, trying to watch the sky through the holes in the box, Rainbow was turning around, preparing for a second attempt, and Twilight willed her silently to back off.  Encouraged by the efficacy of her first attack, she charged down toward the ground with renewed vigour, a cocky grin across her face as the shock cone began to form in front of her.

Abruptly there came a terrible sound from behind her and Twilight jumped in alarm, turning back in time to see Rainbow Dash fall from the sky, trailing blood and feathers.  Twilight was out of her cell in a heartbeat, the spell coursing to the tip of her horn before she had even had time to think what she was doing. 

“Rainbow Dash!” she cried helplessly, re-materialising with a pop of displaced air just in time to cushion the pegasus’ fall with a quick burst of magic.  “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness,” she moaned, looking at the bleeding injuries with rising waves of panic burning through her veins. 

“It hurts so much, Twilight,” Dash said, shaking all over and trying to move her tattered wing. 

“Just, just, keep still, Dash, we’ll find somepony to help,” Twilight babbled, looking around frantically.  In the background that terrible weapon was thundering away still, spitting red hot pieces of metal across the sky with deadly accuracy.  “It’ll be okay, okay.  We’ll fix this, somehow.”  She looked up to the sky, tears in her eyes.  “Oh, Celestia, where are you?  We need you so much.”

When she looked back Rainbow’s eyes had closed, squeezed shut against the frightful world around them, full of noise and pain and terror.

“Don’t you leave me here, Rainbow Dash,” she said fiercely, shaking her friend urgently.  She looked over her shoulder, crying for help, but the only ponies nearby were those she had been imprisoned with, still in their cage, and none of those would have been able to help much either. 

The sound of marching boots and shouting alerted her and she turned around in time to see a group of the creatures running for them, weapons held threateningly.  She leapt in front of Rainbow Dash, head down and horn charged with a telekinetic spell.  A low, threatening growl began in her throat unbidden, a sound she didn’t know she could make.  

A strange thing happened, however, when one of the smaller aliens suddenly ran out to meet them, halting their progress.  Twilight narrowed her eyes suspiciously, watching the scene unfold.  The solitary monkey-like creature turned to face her and approached cautiously.  She growled deeper and he stopped, hands raised to either side of his head.  Twilight could not see any weapons on this one, just a large satchel of sorts slung over one shoulder.

He bent down at the knees, slowly lowering one hand and scratching something in the dirt at his feet.  Twilight allowed her gaze to drift from his face and tried to see what he was drawing.  

Words!  Drawn in the damp mud as if by a filly who had only recently learnt her alphabet, but it was recognisable.  

‘Help. Assist.’ It said.  Was the creature really offering to aid her?  As if to back his words up he stood and pointed to Rainbow Dash, then mimed putting his freakish… fingers… around his thigh and squeezing.  

“Survive,” he said hesitantly, the word barely recognisable coming from his alien mouth, then again, louder: “Survive.”

She took a risk and stepped aside, aware she had run out of options, and was rapidly running out of time as well.  Rainbow Dash let out a whimper as he took a step closer, swinging the pack down from his shoulder.  Twilight inched closer to her friend, whispering calming words even though she felt none of it herself.  Her heart thundered in her chest, the blood pounding in her head and her horn throbbed uncomfortably from holding the spell there for so long.

Monkey, as she had named him, stepped closer and knelt down, rummaging in his bag of things, and Twilight tried to quell the curiosity that made her crane her neck.  Rainbow tried to scoot backwards, only hurting herself more.  Her words were incoherent and mumbled, and she looked about on the verge of passing out.  Twilight fought back tears as visions of the years they had spent together flashed before her mind’s eye.  It felt as if reality was slipping away, everything she held dear was being stripped from the world piece by piece. 

Monkey was saying something again, she realised, and she focused on him, trying to understand what he was saying.  Many words and syllables, none of them really made a sentence though, and she shook her head, completely at a loss. 

“Hurt.  Big hurt,” he said, completely butchering the sounds and at the same time miming poking at his own leg.  “Limit!  Agh - hinder?  Slow, move?”

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” Twilight exclaimed, pawing at the ground angrily.  Time was running out, and Monkey shook his head in resignation and turned back to his unusual patient.  In his hand was a length of rubbery tubing, and he proceeded to tie it in a loop around the top of Rainbow’s leg.

Rainbow was so far gone that she seemed not to notice, and Twilight stroked her face nervously, trying to keep eye contact with her, letting the strange being work.  She was at least confident he was actually trying to help now, although why was certainly unclear.  

All of a sudden Rainbow was very much awake, and screaming extremely loud while thrashing her forelegs about.  Twilight cried out with her, caught off guard, and snapped her head around to see Monkey poking around in the gaping hole in her leg with some fearsome looking tool.  The sickly smell of burning flesh and fur wafted over and she resisted the sudden impulsive urge to blast him away with magic.  The rational part of her could see that he was cauterising the wound, a necessary evil no matter how much it hurt.

Rainbow whimpered in her embrace, throat too hoarse to cry anymore.  Twilight nuzzled her, tears flowing again.  The whole encounter had taken little more than a minute, but it felt as if an hour had passed.  

Monkey stood up again, slinging his bag back onto his shoulder.  “Survive,” he said again, pointing towards the town and holding Twilight’s gaze.  She gaped at him for a moment before nodding curtly and hopping to her hooves.  She carefully picked Rainbow up in her telekinesis and with an intense amount of concentration and another ‘pop’ was gone.

Moments later the pair re-appeared in the general hospital, barely able to find room to stand for the number of ponies scattered everywhere, laid on the floor, slouched in the corners, sitting on benches and tables.  Gurneys and equipment were strewn everywhere, and everywhere ran ponies who looked as though they hadn’t slept in days.  

Alerted by a scream Twilight turned to see Rarity hopping over injured ponies, having spotted the pair.  She took Rainbow in her own magic and Twilight sagged, the energy completely drained from her. 

“She’s lost a lot of blood, Rarity,” Twilight said sadly, her eyes still wet.  “I’m afraid.”

“Come,” Rarity said, her voice low and commanding.  Twilight got the impression she had seen so many terrible things in the last couple of days that she was mostly beyond shock or emotion by that point.  She followed meekly through the crowded hospital towards the back rooms where various surgeons and nurses were trying their hardest to save lives.

“What happened, Twilight?” Rarity asked quietly off to one side as a couple of Ponyville’s most eminent medical professionals busied themselves around the unconscious form of their close friend.

“Oh, Rarity, I thought I was doing the right thing.  If I stayed there, as their prisoner, they might leave us alone.  I think… I think they just want us to leave them alone.  But… but Rainbow thought I needed rescuing.  She made them very angry.”

Rarity hugged Twilight tightly as she began to cry again, huge racking sobs that shook her body.  “Shh, my dear, that is Rainbow to the very letter, Loyalty indeed.  You must not blame yourself.”

“But I could have stopped her, before it was too late,” Twilight wailed, drawing concerned looks from some of those nearby.  Rarity stroked her mane soothingly.  “This is all my fault.”

“It is not, Twilight Sparkle, and I won’t allow you to take this on your shoulders.  What has happened has happened, there’s no changing that now.  We can only try our hardest to fix it.”

A harried looking young stallion, barely old enough to be out of school, rushed up and began talking urgently to Rarity in hushed tones.  “I’m so sorry, my dear, but they need me.  I have to help.  There are so many ill, and still more missing.”

Twilight pulled herself up straight and sniffed back her tears.  “I know.  Go and help, and thankyou.”

“She’ll be okay, I promise.”  Rarity gave her a sad smile before dashing off.  Twilight took one last look at Rainbow, surrounded by doctors, before trotting miserably back outside into the cool morning air.  Apart from the pitiful cries of the injured behind her the morning was peaceful, most of the ponies that were awake had been involved in the attack, she gathered, and were still on the other side of the town.  Even from here she could hear that the sounds of fighting had calmed, her ponies subdued depressingly easily.

She trotted briskly back through the deserted town, trying not to let the dismal appearance of the ruined town drag her spirits much lower than they already were.  In the daylight the extent of the mess was much clearer, and it seemed as not a single building had escaped damage of some sort.  Fortunately only a small number were actually uninhabitable, but the cleanup operation was going to take months.

The run helped clear her head a little, and after smoothing down her frazzled mane she trotted at a casual pace back into the sky-monkey’s compound.  They all turned to watch her as she made a bee-line for the centre of the camp.  Monkey was still there, and was gesturing wildly with another of his kind.  From their body language and hissed words it sounded very much as though they were arguing.  

They turned on catching sight of her, and Monkey began pointing and talking faster again.  Twilight steadied her nerves and tried to keep her pace without faltering.  Several of the others nearby had raised their weapons again and she wondered if they were afraid of her.  Maybe they were angry?  Did they mean to kill her?  She remembered back to the gesture Monkey had given her and decided trying to emulate it by sitting back on her haunches and holding her forelegs up, looking around nervously to gauge the reaction.  The aliens seemed to relax a little, and a few made noises that sounded suspiciously like laughter. 

She fell forwards to her hooves again, the position was certainly not comfortable, but it seemed to have had the desired effect.  This time they made no move to stop her as she strode purposefully towards Monkey, stopping a couple of paces from him and holding his gaze. 

“Survive,” she said with a nod, enunciating her words clearly.  Perhaps he could at least learn how to speak that word properly this time.  The ghost of a smile flickered over his face, barely noticed.  

She hesitated, taking in the scene.  The individual he had been arguing with was watching them intently, and she observed that he was dressed differently to most of them.  Sudden realisation dawned; this was their leader!  And Monkey had disobeyed him, when he let her go free.  Now he was getting a telling-off, like Cheerilee with her disobedient foals.

“Thankyou,” she said, bowing down for a couple of heartbeats.  Monkey smiled at her again, and said something in his own language.  She stood, and turned to Leader.  “No more fighting?”

She spoke as clearly as she could, with exaggerated pauses between her words.  Clearly these creatures had already begun to decipher common Equestrian, and maybe they would be able to understand her.  The two sky-monkeys glanced at one another, but it didn’t look as if there was any immediate comprehension.

The adrenaline in her system had finally burned off, and exhaustion and more than a little despair was starting to set in as she plodded back over to the containers.  With the remains of her energy she teleported herself back inside the container, to the general gasps of the assembled sky-monkeys.

“Hey sugarcube,” said Applejack, moving over to lie facing Twilight.  She offered a weak smile.  “How’s RD?  That was a mighty brave thing you did, going out there.”

“I think she’ll be okay.  She… she might not fly again, but she’s alive.”  Applejack breathed a sigh of relief and almost immediately began to ask a barrage of questions, but Twilight closed her eyes and laid her head on the cold metal floor.  “I know you have a thousand questions, and I’ll try my best to answer them all, but right now I think I just need to sleep.  I’m sorry.”

Applejack ducked her head guiltily and left her to rest, glaring daggers at any of the other ponies who looked as though they would dare try to disturb her. 

Her sleep was not very refreshing, her dreams, usually a welcome escape from the trials and stresses of everyday life, particularly now as a princess, had turned quite sour, filled with visions and sounds that she really didn’t want to see again.  Living through the nightmare once was enough, reliving it again and again in the dream-world was too much.

“…Evening water gravity quickly quick quicker over under beyond,” a mare’s voice said from outside the cell, confusing Twilight immensely as she drifted back into the waking world.  “Tube kicking pencil.”

There was a recognisable giggle and Twilight was suddenly very awake.  “That’s a good one,” Pinkie’s voice continued, her seemingly unbreakable spirit as high as ever. 

“What in Tartarus is happening?” she groaned, climbing to her hooves wearily. Applejack and several of the other ponies were standing on one side of their cell, watching out through the small makeshift windows.  

“Magnificent thunderous mouse paws,” continued the cheerful voice, which Twilight finally recognised as belonging to Lyra Heartstrings.  She stood beside Applejack, peering through the same hole with one eye and bumping up against the ever-present Stetson. 

“Ah don’t rightly understand mahself,” the former farmer replied, shrugging her shoulders.  “They’ve been at it fer hours, though.  That Lyra sure is a strange pony.”

“I’d say she’s the normal one in that box,” Twilight said with a giggle, and Applejack grinned back.

Twilight continued to observe, head cocked to one side.  Monkey was out there, looking just as tired as she felt, despite her short snooze, and he had several others with him.  Two of them were pointing all manner of devices at Lyra, who had been allowed out of the cage and was sitting peacefully on the battered grass as though nothing was amiss.  She seemed to be reading from a big flat device one of the sky-monkeys was holding up while the other was sitting on a metal stool and fiddling with a similar device he held in his lap.

Monkey caught sight of her and gave her a little wave, hesitant at first but smiling when she raised a hoof in reply.  He made to leave his group and walked across to her cage.  Behind him Lyra was still spouting off random words, seemingly happy to continue indefinitely.  

“We are learning the… saying… of your speech,” Monkey said to her, by way of explanation.  His pronunciation was terrible, and it took Twilight a moment to realise he was actually speaking Equestrian at all.  When he repeated the words, slower and more carefully it suddenly clicked. 

“That’s… actually quite impressive,” she said, blinking at him.  This felt a little bit like a dream.  It had only been half a day since they had arrived.  “I mean… how?  Lyra’s taught you?  Did she use magic?  I don’t know…”

“Twilight,” Applejack said, nudging her side.  “Yer babblin’, again.  Ah don’t think he understands you.  Sometimes ah can’t understand you.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, feeling that flutter in her chest that usually indicated there was some interesting New Research to be done.  She shook her head and peered back at him, he certainly looked confused, although admittedly it was difficult for her to read his emotions.  His brow was furrowed in concentration: that peculiar, freaky furless skin creased and wrinkled.  How did it get that way?  Do they shave it all off? Maybe it’s genetic?  Or a reaction to…  

She took a deep breath.  Focus, Twilight!  

“I am impressed,” she said, slowly and clearly, trying to search for the right words, the simplest ones.  “I am… happy at this event.  Maybe we can stop fighting, and talk instead?”

He chewed his lip for a moment, brow furrowing further, then began to nod.  “We do not wish to you fight.”  He paused thoughtfully, seemingly aware he had made a mistake.  “To fight you.”

Twilight grinned widely, this was the official beginning of actual communication between a new species that had descended from beyond the stars!  Actual aliens!  One of the biggest moments in Equestrian history was being made this day, and she, Twilight Sparkle, was the first to speak with them.  Well, first if you didn’t count Lyra babbling a stream of nonsense.

The sky-monkey started to return her goofy grin, and she suddenly had a vision of how ridiculous she must look.  She tried to calm down, running a hoof back over her mane to try and smooth it back, it felt scratchy with mud and lack of proper care.  She winced.  Technically she was a member of the royal family now, a representative of the state and the entire planet.  She must present herself accordingly, how would Celestia or Luna deal with this?

Luna would probably shout at them so much that they would run away, she decided with a smirk.  Celestia would have remained cool and welcomed them, yes, that was it, calm and dignified.  Mind, if she had been here no doubt none of this would have happened.  Twilight swallowed guiltily, unable to shake the sense of responsibility for attacking them.  

“Uh, Twi, sugercube, are you alright?  You’ve got the strangest looks on yer face…”

She cleared her throat.  The alien was watching her expectantly, and some others had gathered around, pointing more metal slabs and devices.  She felt a growing sense of intimidation and pushed on quickly before she crumbled into cowardice.  “On behalf of the royal alicorn sisters, I welcome you, Monkey, and your fellow, uh, fellows, to Equestria,” she said, somewhat awkwardly.  It had sounded less dorky in her head.  “Umm.”

He stared at her for a moment, trying to decipher her words, and she decided that, in her excitement, she had probably spoken too quickly again.  She opened her mouth to repeat it more slowly, but he spoke first, slow and with some hesitation.

“I fear we maybe have being poor guests.”  His smile had gone.

Twilight visibly deflated, it had been all too easy to pretend that she wasn’t in a cage, and hadn’t just delivered her best friend to a hospital, and that their town wasn’t riddled with bulletholes and soaked in the blood of the innocent.  

“Additionally, name is not ‘Monkey’.”

Oh my gosh, Twilight thought, eyes wide, I shouldn’t have said that…

“I’m sorry!” she began frantically, this was definitely not how the first communication between their races would have gone had Celestia been here!

She was cut off by him grinning, and a low chuckle escaped his lips.  “My name is ‘Riley’.  We are ‘humans’.  I know you as ‘Purple Horse’.”

Twilight stammered and could hear Applejack sniggering behind her.  “First, we are ponies, not horses,” she lectured in response, a bit quicker than she should have done.  “And my name is Twilight Sparkle.  Princess Twilight Sparkle, in fact.”

“We are pleased to meet you, miss Sparkle,” Riley replied, gesturing to the others around him with an arm.  “I see no reason for to remain in that cage.  You may join us, if you are wishing it.”

Twilight looked back at the doors behind her, locked (quite firmly, it turned out - they still bore the marks of Applejack’s furious kicks).  “The doors are closed,” she said, somewhat pointedly.  

“We both know that is not stopping you,” he countered, and she gulped, they already knew she could teleport about, but clearly they wanted to study her, and she was a little uncomfortable with the prospect of being under the microscope instead of behind it for once.

“I think… I’m quite comfortable in here, thankyou very much,” she managed, and Applejack jabbed a hoof in her side, as if to ask what she thought she was doing. 

Riley smiled, a cold twist of his lips this time.  “Miss Sparkle, are you… in charge… of this town?”

“No,” she answered honestly.  “I’m the librarian.  Our mayor is... Missing.”  She yelped as Applejack poked her in the side again and stepped forward. 

“Beggin’ yer pardon, sir, true that she ain’t the mayor, but she does speak fer us all.  And I, fer one, would very much like to get outta this box.”

Riley looked confused, clearly Applejack’s accent was too much for him.  He looked back to Twilight, “come out here, Twilight Sparkle, and all yours we will release,” Riley offered, another grin on his face.  Twilight glared at him from her prison.  

“Fine.” 

With a pop she appeared on the other side of the wall, materialising a hoof’s width in front of Riley.  It hadn’t had quite the effect she had intended, as even stretching her neck the tip of her horn only came to midway up his chest, and she ended up wasting a perfectly good Severe Glare on his stomach.

The sudden teleport spell at least caused some gasps from around, including a cheer from Pinkie.  Twilight wondered absentmindedly if they would ever let her out.  There were low murmurs all around, and Riley stumbled back a few feet, both hands pressed against the side of his head and a look of intense pain on his face.  Twilight immediately worried she had actually stabbed him with her horn, teleporting close to other ponies was generally to be avoided, overlapping with them would be messy, but she had so desperately wanted to make a statement.  He didn’t appear to be injured…

Riley shook his head slowly from side to side and blinked slowly a few times, finally refocusing on the unicorn.

“Did that… hurt you?” she asked, a little incredulously and leaning forward with narrowed eyes.

His reply was slow in coming.  “It did cause… some discomfort, yes.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.  “I shouldn’t…”

He dismissed her apology with an irritated wave of his hand.  “Do not… worry.  I almost expected something similar.  Next time, please… keeping some little distance.”

She shuffled backwards a few steps, feeling a little deflated, yet at the same time sensing a brief rush of excitement at the realisation that they were not entirely unstoppable, clearly her magic or perhaps simply being close to them was causing some sort of problem.  Behind her some other men were moving to the rear of the cages and Riley fixed her with an intense stare.  

“If release you we do, do we have the promise you will cease your attacks?  We leave by next setting of the sun, if we are working undisturbed.”

Twilight nodded and sat on her haunches, one hoof over her chest.  “You have my word, Riley.”

Riley held her gaze for some time before looking over her shoulder to the men behind the cage, giving them a curt nod.  She heard the sound of heavy locks being drawn and the sound of hooves on metal and then compacted mud.  Applejack came to stand beside her, and a pink blur hovered just off the side of her vision.  It felt good to have her friends with her again, they gave her strength, made her feel whole again. 

Riley was still watching her.  “Thankyou.  And, we are sorry,” she continued, looking down at the ground and searching for the right things to say.  “We… I… deeply regret attacking you, but I feared we were under attack again.”

“Again?” he repeated, head to one side.

“This isn’t the place to talk about it,” she said with a deep sigh, seeing the nervous faces of the freed ponies watching her.
	
	
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Riley was thoroughly fed up, but at the same time a little excited still.  He had just successfully communicated with a previously undiscovered alien race, and maybe even gained their trust and cooperation.  He had a lot more to learn, of course, and the computers were still chewing their way through more material, but it was an excellent start.  He only wished they had more time to study.  

He had spent the previous few hours in a dark room, studying the language in even more depth, ready for the next wave of talking.  He was feeling fairly confident he could now hold a conversation correctly, even if his pronunciation was a little off at times.  The effort had left him grouchy, however, and some of his engineers gave the distinct impression that they were actively trying to be obtuse.

“Can we just build a new one?” Thompson asked, pushing back from his desk.  He was a thickset man of African descent, originally a marine but enlisted into the engineer corps after passing various aptitude tests.  He was a competent electrical engineer, and Riley was pleased to have him along, even if he did speak before thinking sometimes. 

“I don’t think you need me to answer that,” he said tiredly, not looking up from his screen. “We outfitted for war, I don’t think it was expected that we would destroy our comms. gear, and lose both our backup transmitters.  We just don’t have the parts or the time to fabricate them.”

“But we’ve got at least four fab plants,” he complained.  

“Two, actually, and one of those is damaged.  The other is busy making much needed medical supplies, and once it’s finished on that the priority is getting the fleet back in the air.  You’ll be waiting a long while to get time on that.”

Thompson picked up a new report, absently reading it during their conversation.  They were sitting in the belly of Alpha Two, one of the three engineering ships in the fleet.  Unfortunately the other two had been lost during the encounter with the Thala which drove them to the ill-fated jump in the first place, their relatively precious cargo gone for good.  Pieces of equipment were scattered all around, and several engineers and technicians sat at the benches working on repairs to all manner of items.  

“Guess it wouldn’t help us even if we did get a subspace transmission out,” Thompson mused aloud.  Riley was glad to see he was thinking for himself.  “Wherever we are has got to be outside of known space, or we’d have bumped into this lot before.  Without the beacons ain’t nobody coming to help us, even if they know we’re here.”

“Indeed.  Sadly, we’re very much on our own, until we can get our warp drives functioning again.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to sooth the headache he still had since the ponies’ shockwave attack.  He was exhausted still, deep sleep was difficult at the best of times with the implants, but when they were on the fritz it was even worse.  Even if he had wanted to sleep there wasn’t a lot of time, since arriving there had been an endless stream of tasks to see to and projects to coordinate.  It seemed as if every piece of technology they possessed now had something wrong with it, and in the back of his mind he was aware that it wasn’t actually that much of an exaggeration.  

On top of the endless list of official duties he had to perform he had the constant presence of the ponies, this strange new race they had stumbled across.  The scientist in him was utterly desperate to study and observe, but the soldier told him to get on with fixing the ships and getting their people off this strange new world. 

He looked at his wristwatch – a totally unnecessary luxury, but he liked the way it felt, even if the computers in his head made it an obsolete piece of technology – and realised he was due at the admiral’s quarters in a few minutes.  As well as being a trusted aide, he was one of the only people in the fleet who could currently communicate with the equine race beyond simple phrases, and acting as a translator was something he could foresee taking up a lot of his time soon.

From the ships’ rosters he knew there were two other augmented engineers left alive, but neither of them had lived with their implants for more than a year, and it took many, many painful years before a person’s mind fully integrated with it.  It was an uncomfortable few years at the start, more of a hindrance than anything, but at times like this it really proved its worth.  Their powerful computers had been able to cross-reference many thousands of pages of alien text and provide an invaluable index into their language.  With the implants Riley was able to lookup into this vast database, and learning a new language suddenly became a few hours’ work.

Of course, it would take weeks before he could truly speak it like a native, but the important thing was that they could communicate now, without resorting to charades and grunts.  

He knocked politely on the door to the little conference room they had set up adjacent to Williams’ quarters before opening the door, aware he was a few minutes late.  He nodded to the admiral and assembled captains, all in their full dress uniform.  He suddenly felt conspicuous in the scruffy shirt he had been wearing in the engineering bays.  

“Thankyou for joining us, Mr Collins,” Williams said calmly and without trace of humour.  Some of the other captains glared at him and he nodded cordially at them.  

“Apologies for my lateness,” he said, once in English and once again in Equestrian, turning to face the five ponies that were sat on the other side of the table, sitting perched neatly upon ornately decorated cushions on the floor.  Riley wondered how long they had been waiting, he was only a few minutes late but the situation already felt tense.  He guessed that the atmosphere must have been a little awkward since neither side could understand the other until he arrived. 

Riley took a seat at the head of the table, looking down between the two lines.  He studied the five ponies that had come, Twilight Sparkle and the orange earth pony (he had been reading up on their races) that had been held captive with her.  The garishly coloured pink creature that had been seen snooping around everywhere was sat furthest from him, and next to her was a light yellow pegasus that he thought he recognised from the assault on the treehouse.  Finally there was a tall, slender unicorn with a coat the colour of fresh snow and a mane of deep purple.  Despite the dirt in her fur and her slightly messed up hair she was radiating an aura that could only be described as aloof.

Introductions were made, and Twilight attempted a second version of her ‘Welcome to Equestria’ speech, which was, frankly, adorably terrible.  He avoided translating the most frilly parts, and noticed wryly how her companions eyed one another awkwardly during the monologue.  The admiral took it gracefully, as Riley knew he would, and for his part he did his best to translate the response back again without losing the elegance and punch of his words. 

A few researchers had been expending a little effort studying some of the scanned and machine-translated books from the library, trying to gain an insight into the culture and history of the planet, but of the some twenty thousand pages they had scanned the vast majority were from tomes on obscure science or mundane and wordy volumes about cookery or flower cultivation.  Additionally it was not always clear whether a passage was from a fictional book or a factual retelling of an actual event.  The result was that they still knew vanishingly little about the world they were currently marooned on.

The conversation started along logistical lines, arranging water supplies, food and general trade.  Williams had announced that the majority of the casualties from their battles had been dealt with and were recovering well, then offered the use of the fleet’s medical facilities to the ponies.  Riley knew of some half hearted studies that had already had made on deceased ponies, and their physiology was very similar to that of a human being, down to a surprising overlap of DNA.  That specific question was one to address much later on.  No doubt tissue samples would be taken back for later analysis.

“I am glad to hear that your people are recovering, and once again I offer our apologies for attacking you first,” Twilight said sombrely.  “If I had paused for thought, many lives could have been spared.”

“It was regrettable, but there are no hard feelings,” Williams responded, polite and calm, yet still maintaining an undertone of fairness.  Riley tried to reflect that in his translations, but it was hard to know how successful he was being.  “I trust your injured are being cared for?  Again, if we can help, please do not hesitate to ask.  It’s the least we can do for you.”   

Twilight looked up and met his gaze again.  “Thankyou, our injured are recovering well, although there are still several ponies missing, even after we’ve identified most of the… those who are longer with us.”  She trailed off, looking away again.  Fluttershy looked about ready to cry.  Riley glanced at the assembled officers, noting a few sidelong glances.  Like everyone involved they surely felt a lot of guilt for the massacre as well, they had stopped using lethal force as soon as they realised how little threat the ponies presented, but even that was too late for some. 

The admiral handed over to one of the other captains, an aging woman from Alpha Nineteen, one of their heavy, lumbering supply ships, to explain the significant events in human history leading up to their arrival in Equestria.  O’Neill was her name, and he knew from past experience that she could talk until the stars expired.  He settled back in his chair, preparing for the long haul with an inaudible sigh.

“It was towards the bitter, decaying end of the 21st century that mankind finally took to the stars, veritably chased from our own planet by disease, famine, war and chronic overpopulation.  Our very society teetered on the precipice of collapse even while corrupt superpowers fought over the scant few resources we had left in the cradle of our creation, like so many selfish children, unable to see past their own noses as they rushed headlong into disaster.  Our offworld colonies suffered terribly, their delicate balance upset as if a small boat in a tropical storm.  They were, naturally, still heavily dependant on the ready supply of goods and medicine from Earth and with civil wars tearing apart the megacities they were isolated and in danger.

“The invention of the sub-space warp drives saved us, as a race, at last facilitating rapid transport between our now struggling colonies and allowing mankind to finally explore the stars, like those brave, fearless pioneers that once headed out into the endless blue oceans in search of new shores…”

Riley was becoming exceptionally bored of translating without being able to actually contribute to the discussions.  His mind had made up plenty of things he wanted to ask.  Instead he was amusing himself by intentionally slipping progressively more and more inappropriate words into his responses for the ponies, wondering how far he could go before they realised it was purposeful.  The whole meeting was being recorded, and one day someone else would no doubt review the logs, then he would get a mild telling-off, but that was in the future and at that particular moment Riley felt very much like living for the moment, as rebellious as that may be.

To his deep satisfaction Fluttershy, the fragile-looking, quiet little yellow pegasus had blushed a few times now, and Twilight had started peering at him suspiciously, to which he simply grinned slightly, not meeting her gaze.  He knew his game was over when he caught Williams staring at him, equally suspiciously, and he shrugged theatrically and returned to translating O’Neill’s unnecessarily flowery prose as accurately as he could. 

“…the third race we stumbled across was, to our great and lingering misfortune, a heinous, ethically challenged, brutal and warmongering species that had stripped their own barren homeworld of any other life, save what they farmed to survive and procreate.  Some one hundred peaceful, and one might event venture to go as far as to say prolific, years had passed since last we encountered a sentient race, and we all wish now that several more hundred could have passed again. 

“Human envoys never returned, our precious goodwill gifts were shot from the heavens and within a scant year their twisted, hideous warships were bearing down upon our sacred home system with murderous intent.

“Fortunately, mankind is nothing if not resilient, and to this day we fight fiercely to protect our loved ones.  Not once have the Thala horde landed on our homeworld, not once have they taken a colony that we didn’t wrestle back from them, and not once will they ever dull our spirit!  

“We prevail, but at terrible cost to our own.  Their species is a hivemind, the individual means nothing to them, the concept of family stands as alien to them as they are to us.  The terrible casualty count for our species since the wars began nearly one hundred and forty years ago is unthinkable and unforgivable.  There is not a family alive today who has not lost someone dear to them, and many have lost everything, mothers who will never see their children grow, and poor, lonely children who are stripped of their parents before they are even old enough for school.”

Riley stopped to sip his water, mouth dry from so much talking.  O’Neill was in full flow.  He was alarmed to see Fluttershy in tears, even Rarity had lost some of her formal façade and rubbed at her glittering eyes with a paw.  Hoof.  Thing.

He didn’t get a lot of time to rest as O’Neill charged onwards with her single-handed war against respectable storytelling, either unheeding or uncaring of the distraught reactions she was producing on the other side of the table.  He risked a glance at Williams and fancied the man was regretting choosing O’Neill to narrate.  He was tapping his fingers irritably on the tabletop.

“…and despite their best efforts they were repelled at Ganymede by the valiant seventh fleet, who remarkably won the campaign without a single vessel lost.  Our fleet, the highly respected and eminently successful 1st Jovian, was in transit to Xerxes-8 when the remains of the Thala scourge passed us by.  Even decimated as they were our fleet was wholly unprepared for the fierce and frantic battle we were about to encounter.  They dropped on top of us, straight out of subspace, intent on revenge or worse.  We fought until we were sure to be defeated, then fled.  Our only hope now was an unbounded entry into subspace, and to pray to any gods that were listening in that dark time that the Thala warships would be unable to fix a lock on our trajectory.”

She paused for a dramatic breath and looked around at her audience.  “Fortunately, it looks as if our ploy worked.  They did not pursue us.  Our processors found your planet as a nearby mass anchor for the return from the void-abyssal, and we burst out of the warp almost directly into your atmosphere.  We lost several more craft in that turbulent entry, but the majority of our fleet has survived.”

There was a heavy silence in the room as the story finished and the two parties dwelled on it.  

“You poor things,” Fluttershy murmured weakly, barely loud enough for Riley to catch.  “You have suffered so very much.”

Riley was becoming more adept at reading the pony’s expressive faces, and in his opinion Applejack looked deeply ashamed.  “Y’all came here for refuge, and we attacked you without so much as a warnin’.”

He watched Twilight closely, she had slumped on her cushion and was looking down at the floor, mouth slightly agape, not meeting anyone’s eyes.  He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, she was clearly taking this very much upon herself. 

“Twilight,” he said softly, and she looked up at him reluctantly.  “I think it’s time for you to explain ‘Attacked again’ to us.”

Twilight began, hesitantly at first, but seemed to relax a little as she got into her own tale of Equestria’s history, sounding rather like a lecturer, Riley thought with the twitch of smile at the corners of his mouth.  She told them of the alicorn sisters, of Nightmare Moon, of changelings, a place called Canterlot and the Crystal Empire, a mysterious entity called Sombra, and finally of a crazed despot they called Discord, said to represent the concept of Chaos itself.  A lot of it sounded like fairy tales, but then he wondered what their own histories must sound like in contrast.

“Discord had returned, you see,” Twilight was saying, standing up now and pacing in small circles as she lectured.  “I’m not sure if Celestia saw it coming or not, but before we knew it he’d laid waste to many of the outlying settlements, causing a new kind of chaos, destruction and death this time around.”

Abruptly she stopped pacing and stood facing the officers across the table, a fierce, passionate fire in her eyes.  “You must see, we’re not prepared for this class of conflict, our history has been a generally peaceful, untroubled one.  Our wise and benevolent rulers have always been there to guide us gently down the path of peace and good.  Our usual approaches just don’t work anymore.  We don’t know how to fight.”

The admiral spoke up, having listened patiently.  “Princess Twilight, if I have one piece of advice for you, it is this:  Never learn.  If you can find another way, any other option, take it.  Your peaceful nature is, frankly, unheard of.  It is innocent and perfect, from what I can see, and to tarnish that would be a crime.”

The unicorn stood in thought for some time, the intensity in her large eyes faded now to sadness written plain for all to see.  “I would take your advice gladly, if only I knew of a way.

“When Discord came for my town I panicked and hid, I couldn’t deal with this.  I wanted so very much for Celestia to come and help us, but when I went to find her she was busy fighting for balance once more, trying to save everypony at once, not just the selfish few.  She and her sister were set against every twisted, subjugated creature Discord could muster.  So many other towns and villages, so many other ponies, all relying on her aid.  I couldn’t take that away from them, so I returned alone.  

“Now, I don’t want to sound as if I am blowing my own flugelhorn, but I’m regarded as the embodiment of magic itself, it is, afterall, how I ended up with these wings.  I regarded myself as capable, if Celestia could spare the energy to defend all those towns and cities at the same time, then surely I, the element of magic, could defend little old Ponyville?”

She stopped pacing and stood facing the humans, her lower lip trembling with emotion.  “But I committed sin; I underestimated the power of an immortal goddess, and dared to compare myself to Her.  What could I ever be to Her Eternal Flame?  I’m just a pony with a horn.  And when Discord came for us, I crumbled before him.  I couldn’t stop him, I couldn’t save the ponies that trusted me.  They died and they were taken because of my weakness.”

Twilight stopped talking, gasping for breath, and Riley swallowed the beginning of a lump that he wouldn’t admit was there.  The depth and intensity of the ponies’ emotions was staggering.  He tried to imagine Earth’s rulers caring quite so much about the loss of a few villagers and found the very concept laughable, even the thought of the exalted admiral caring so much about his charges was unimaginable, yet here was a little alien pony, beating herself up about something it sounded like she had never stood a chance against in the first place.

His mouth was dry from trying to repeat her words quickly enough, she had lost the careful measured rhythm she started with, and nearly lost him in the process.  Fortunately for him she seemed unable to continue for the moment, giving him time for a much needed drink.  Fluttershy was next to Twilight, her wings wrapped tenderly around her, soothing her distraught friend.  The others had all moved closer to her, forming one heap of fur and tails and large, expressive eyes.  

“I understand why you attacked us,” the admiral said softly, and Riley tried to copy the inflection in his voice.  “And I want to express my sincerest sorrow that it took us this long to learn to communicate.  Perhaps, if I had listened to my friend here, we could have avoided some of the casualties you have suffered during your imprisonment.  You have my deepest apologies for my oversight, and I will spare you the resources I can to help fix this in any way I am able.”

Riley finished translating, and Twilight looked up with a glimmer of hope in her eye.  Some growing level of understanding told Riley what she was going say before she said it, and he looked away, closing his eyes sadly.  He heard her push herself back up to her feet, standing proud once more.  

“There is a saying – ‘Fight fire with fire’,” she said, blinking back her tears and setting her expression.  “You are strong and fierce, such brave, powerful people.  Help us, I beg of you.  Your courage, magic and experience can save us all!”

Riley sighed and reluctantly relayed the request.  He knew what the response would be.

Williams had the decency to look sorrowful.  “I am genuinely sorry, Twilight Sparkle, but I cannot grant your request.  Aside from breaking a number of intergalactic treaties I simply cannot spare the resources to fight your battle as well as our own.  O’Neill’s story earlier may have left you with the impression that our ‘indomitable will’ alone will win the war with the Thala for us, but at the end of the day we are flesh, blood and bone, just like yourselves.  As we sit here my very species stands upon the brink of annihilation.  Eighty billion lives hang in the balance.

“I’m very sad to say it, but this is your fight.  We cannot win it for you.”

Riley choked a little as he tried to translate, hiding it with another sip of water.  Watching Twilight’s expression change from desperate hope to crushed despair was utterly heartbreaking, made worse somehow by the caring faces of her friends, doing their best to be strong for her.  

These were the kindest, most deserving creatures Riley had ever met and could imagine ever meeting again, and here they were being pounded into the ground, and their fleet was standing before them with the combined firepower of a small country, unable to do a thing to help, all because someone decided that the course of history on new worlds should not be interfered with.

The atmosphere was gloomy as the meeting broke up, the five ponies thanked them formally and left, Twilight beside herself with grief and despair and the other four seemingly not much better.  The captains each stood and saluted before leaving for their meals.  Riley had worked his way through most of the pitcher of water during the course of the meeting, and he poured the last drop into his glass and hid behind it, head in one hand. 

“Are you fit for duty, lieutenant-commander Collins?” the admiral asked formally.  

“Implants are playing up, sir,” he responded. “Since the EMP.  Takes days for the headaches to go.  And I’m tired.”

“That is not what I meant, Riley,” his friend said gently, getting up and moving to a cabinet.  Riley heard the sound of clinking glassware and something sweet and strong was put in front of him.  He sipped at it morosely.  Williams was too observant sometimes. 

“I admit, I don’t like it,” he said at length.  “I hate sitting here, watching them get fucked over, when it would be so easy for us to help them.  It hurts to watch.  When you said they’re like children you weren’t far off the truth.  They’re so innocent, John.  What’s happened to them isn’t fair.”

Williams sighed and sat beside him, glass in hand.  “I don’t like it either, my friend.  But it is what it is, and it is all too easy to focus on the immediate problems while losing sight of the bigger ones.  Out there, beyond these skies, our families are waiting for us, our friends and loved ones are waiting for us, waiting for us to come back and help keep them alive.

“Sometimes I doubt it myself, I think ‘I’ve been at this for sixty years, isn’t it time to hand the baton?’, but then I remember that when you’re balanced on a tightrope above an abyss it’s that tiny extra little weight on one side that causes you to fall one way or the other, that one man fighting to tip the balance on a knife-edge.”

Riley shook his head and swallowed hard, the tears prickled behind his eyes, itching at the artificial circuitry fused to the back of his retinas.  He rarely cried, and he would be damned if he was going to do it in front of Williams, in this dismal meeting room.  “I hear you, sir, and I know what you say is right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to bear.  I just… I wish it could be different.  I wish we could help.”

“There’s not a man nor a woman here today who doesn’t,” Williams said, closing his eyes briefly and swallowing the remains of his spirit.  He stood and placed one hand on Riley’s shoulder.  “It’s commendable to want to help everybody you meet, that is the mark of a hero, but a wise hero knows he cannot save everybody.  He has to focus on the things he can achieve with the time given.  Keep your head up, Riley, and don’t lose sight of the goal.  And please, keep your distance from these creatures.  We can’t afford emotional attachments at this stage, and in the nicest possible way, Riley, I know what you’re like.”

Riley nodded mutely and watched the admiral leave the room.  He waited for the door to click shut before he finally gave in and let his frustration out in peace.

The act of venting his emotions must have helped him a little, as he managed to get the best three hours of sleep he had managed in quite some time, uninterrupted and quite without dreams of any sort.  After he had awoken, showered and changed into a clean set of clothes he felt a lot more optimistic and ready to face the day.  

He poked his head out of the door of the barracks, looking out into a clear blue sky.  It was, disconcertingly, still morning.  A few pegasi flitted about here and there, wings shimmering in the sunlight and bright colours unarguably cheerful in the early morning sunrise.  He stepped out into the cool air and stretched his arms wide, even his headache had improved considerably, the persistent throbbing diminished to little more than a mild woolly feeling behind his eyes.  

To his great disappointment the mood in the engineering bays of Alpha Two was far less hopeful, and Riley felt his spirits bog down the moment he climbed up the ladder into the cramped space, lit with harsh fluorescent light and smelling of burnt plastic and noxious chemicals.  

“Doesn’t work at all.  Can’t fabricate out of nothing.  It’s completely screwed,” a short, angry technician was saying with considerable vehemence, waving his arms at a mess on the worktop.  Several other men and women stood around meekly, fiddling with pens or looking at their communicators.  

“Jackson,” Riley said by way of greeting, nodding at the diminutive bespectacled engineering chief.  

“Tell these numbskulls what’s up.  They’ve been wasting time trying to build a resonator matrix for the subspace array, out of sapphires, of all things.”  He threw his arms in the air.  “Where did you even get them from?”

One of the younger assistants spoke up nervously. “There’s a pony in town, makes dresses, I think.  She just has boxes of them, lying around.  Huge things, would fetch a fortune at home.”

“You stole them?”

“No!” the lad squeaked and Thompson took an angry step forwards.  “Maybe a little.  They weren’t using them!”

Riley made a note to get the admiral to schedule a regulation search of belongings later in the day.  “Calm down, the lot of you.  It’s not a bad idea,” he said, referring to the fabrication attempt on the table.  “But I can’t imagine the nanites can do much with sapphire.  Corundum is a poor polariser, the machines won’t be able to get the accuracy needed.”

“Right, that’s pretty much what’s happened,” agreed one of the techs.  “But it’s chance based, that’s our point.  If we make enough of these, luck has it that one of them will be good enough to at least reach one beacon, we can at least move in the right direction.”

“Have you run the numbers?  How many will we need to make before chance is on our side?”

The technician fiddled with the hem of his shirt, looking down.  “Ten to the five,” he mumbled. 

Riley stared at him.  “You’re saying that, at full output, even with all four plants going, which we don’t have, you’d have a good chance of getting a single beacon fix within about six years.”

The engineer nodded sullenly.  Riley continued, undeterred, “and that assumes you can find someone rich enough to give you half a million sapphires.”

More nods.  “Well, it’s good to know we have a ready supply in any case, the RF amps for the grids need rebuilding after all, we blew most of them on the way down as well.”

Riley addressed Jackson.  “Is there an alternative?  Do none of the ships have even a partially functioning warp drive at all?  If we can manage to get one going we should be able to drag the whole fleet through if we break regulation separation.”

“One ship does have a working core,” the chief replied, with some hesitation, and Riley quickly saw where the conversation was going.  “Alpha Five.  She dumped her telemetry just before we lost contact on the way in, but we don’t know where she’s gone, she was on a completely different trajectory to rest of us.  She’s in fine condition, assuming the crash didn’t damage her.  Although the chances of the ship herself being undamaged are slim the warp cores are well protected, we’re confident it’ll be okay.”

Riley groaned in dismay.  So much was broken.  Six of their fleet had originally had the hardware and capability to tear apart the fabric of the universe and transport them across vast distances.  Three of those ships had been destroyed during the run-in with the Thala.  Another had been lost in the descent onto the planet, one more was completely non-functional with no practical chance of repair, and the last one had crashed goodness knows how many hundreds of kilometres away.  They would have stocked the parts to manufacture replacements, but a run of remarkably bad luck had placed almost everything necessary in other craft.  The situation was looking increasingly bleak. 

Riley swore.  “Does the admiral know?  He’s going to be pissed.” 

“Not as such, we were hoping, you know, you might tell him…”

He rolled his eyes.  “Do we at least know where it is?”

“Not as such,” he said again, and Riley decided he was beginning to hate that phrase.  “I mean, we can extrapolate its trajectory based on its heading at the time it went dark, and if we can get permission to take a couple of ships up then there’s a good chance we can get a fix on a reactor bleed out, assuming one was breached in the crash, which is pretty likely.”

Jackson watched him shrewdly as he mulled it over. 

“So… you’ll tell the admiral, then?”

Riley pressed his lips together into a thin line and shook his head from side to side.  “Fine.”
	
	
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight threw herself onto her bed in the upper floor of the library and screamed into her pillow, the howl of anguish muffled.  Feeling a little better she lay back with a sigh.  Things had gone from bad to worse, and just when she thought the universe owed her something they had refused to help, for no good reason at all as far as she could see.  They had men just standing around, doing nothing, all the time.  

After their meeting Rarity had returned to the hospital to lend what aid she could, her steady magic and attention to detail had proved invaluable, and nopony could sew a stitch as neatly as Ponyville’s top seamstress.  She was also helping to calm the nerves of the other ponies there as the humans had sent some of their own surgeons and one of their best translators to assist, and their presence was upsetting for many.  Twilight had tried to speak with them, although her attempts had been difficult so far, they hardly seemed to understand any of the Equestria language yet.  Rarity was sceptical that the humans were going to be of any use at all.

Fluttershy was out helping to coordinate emergency supplies to residents who had lost their homes, and Pinkie was… doing whatever Pinkie did during a disaster.  Whatever it was, it probably had to do with confectionary or parties.  Pinkie could find a reason to party even in the darkest of times.   It helped to keep spirits high, at least.

Applejack stroked Twilight’s back soothingly and let the distraught mare cry herself out.  

“We have to make them see,” she blubbered.  “We need their help.”

“Ah think you already did, sugarcube. You near enough put the poor translator to tears.  Ah reckon he knows our problems pretty well.”

Twilight sat up on her bed, wiping at her eyes.  “Then how could they just refuse like that?  Have they no heart?  We need them!”

Applejack sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, one hoof around her friend.  “It ain’t their fight, Twi.  They got their own battles.  We hafta fight our own.  It’s the way of things.”

“But we can’t!” Twilight snapped, a lot louder than she perhaps intended and she forced her voice lower.  “We can’t win.  Everypony just dies.”

“Now lookie here, Twilight, ah don’t usually make a point o’ tellin’ you things y’ don’t wanna hear, but ah have got to say this, or ah’m not the element of honesty.  You have got to buck up, girl.  Discord, space aliens and humans, ain’t none o’ this your fault, you’ve given this place your all, and ya’ll can’t give up jus’ because something don’t go right.  You’ve gotta make your mistakes t’ learn what’s right and what ain’t, and above all you gotta keep on kickin’.”

She stamped a hoof against the wooden floor for emphasis and Twilight grudgingly looked up, sniffing back her frustration.  “I’ll never give up, Applejack, I swear it.  But some days it’s just hard to see through the smoke.  Today more than ever.”

“We’re here for ya, darlin’” Applejack said, her expression softening.  “Whenever y’ need us.”

“I know you are, and I trust you all to the ends of time.”

Twilight looked around at her bedroom, listening to the large clock ticking away, undisturbed by her problems.  She made a commitment to be more like it, let life’s problems wash off her and just keep forging forwards.  She sighed, failing at the first hurdle as she spotted the dusty hoofprints she had left as she ran up the stairs.  There was nobody cleaning the library anymore, her number one assistant was still missing.

“Maybe we’re just asking the wrong people for help?” Applejack suggested.  “Can’t we go to Canterlot and find the Princesses?”

“There’s no train, and it’s a long way by foot,” she replied.  “As much as I would like to go.”

“Can’t you use these fancy wings of yours and fly there?”

Twilight gave a short bark of a laugh.  “Not likely.  Even Fluttershy can outpace me in the air, I really am a terrible flier.  I think growing up with wings probably gives one a big advantage.  Having them glued on a few weeks ago hasn’t really given me the confidence, or very much time to practise.”  She looked glum and spoke quieter, “and I admit, I might have a little bit of a fear of heights.”

“Fair enough, but if ya want mah advice, Canterlot should be our next port in this storm.”

“I’m worried what we’ll find there, Applejack,” Twilight confessed, wringing her hooves together.  “Haven’t you noticed how long the day and night are?  It’s been hours, and the sun has barely moved.”

“Ah had wondered about that a little,” she replied.  “I just kinda thought the princesses must be too busy, or somethin’.”

“They’ve reverted to their natural period, which means Celestia has stopped using her magic to speed it up.  That doesn’t bode well, at all.  I’m afraid we’ll find her and Luna… missing.  Maybe that’s why she hasn’t come to help us already.”

“Don’t say that, Twi, ah’m sure she’s fine.  She’s a god, after all, ah don’t think you can kill a god.  She’s probably just busy with casting spells or somethin’ princess-y.”

“Their spirits are gods, not their bodies,” she explained.  “They’re not indestructible.”

Applejack made a disparaging noise and waved a hoof.  “She’ll still be the princess, even if you put her in another pony’s body.”

“I like her current body,” sniffed Twilight, unable to help but smile at the absurdity of the statement.  

Applejack chuckled and stuck her tongue out.  “Ah really don’t want to know much more!”

They were interrupted by a tapping at the window above Twilight’s bed, and she turned to see what the noise was.  A grey pegasus was at the window, waving cheerfully.  

“You’re lucky to still have glass in that window,” Applejack said quietly, not taking her gaze away. 

“Applejack!  Don’t be mean.”

“Just sayin’.   Most all your other windows are already broken.  Nothing to do with her, of course.  Just came t’ mind, all of a sudden, like.”

Twilight scowled at her friend and moved to open it.  Before she could quite get there Derpy had pressed the glass a bit harder in a misguided attempt to open the window inwards instead of outwards.  The pane popped its tacks from the old wooden frame and fell inwards.  Derpy gasped, and Twilight followed the tumbling pane with her magic, just catching it before it hit the floor.  

Derpy hauled herself through the open space and dropped down the floor with a distinct crunch from underhoof, fluffing her wings on her back as she rearranged them.  Twilight released the fragments of broken glass from her magic and sighed, trying very hard to ignore Applejack’s warned you look.

“Hello, Derpy Hooves,” Twilight said, trying to remain civil.  Bad luck seemed to follow the poor mare everywhere some days, although it didn’t ever seem to get her down.  “Can we help you?”

“’essage for you, T’ilight S’arkle!” she said, fetching a folded scrap of paper from her saddlebags in her mouth.  “One uff zeh nice hu-ans said to deliver it to the tee house.”

“Thankyou,” Twilight said, taking the slightly slobbery note gingerly in her magic.  

“No problem-o!” Derpy replied, cheerful as ever.  She gave a sloppy salute and made to fly back out of the window.  “Hey, you got broken glass, all over your floor.  You should really clear that up.  Bye!”

Twilight watched her go, slightly unsteady in the air, she never seemed entirely confident in the direction she was heading, but somehow managed to deliver everything on time, every time, even so.  Twilight filed the mysteries of Derpy Hooves along side the extensive file she already kept on Pinkie Pie, hidden away in a somewhat dusty corner of her mind.

“What does it say?”

Twilight unfolded it and read the neat contents, characters printed perfectly evenly and in pleasingly correct form.  “Twilight, please come to see me when you have a spare minute, I would value your input on a matter,” she read aloud, “then it’s signed with some human writing.  I think that’s Riley’s name in his own language.”

“D’you feel up to seein’ them again, so soon?”

“It didn’t sound urgent,” she said with a wide yawn.  “I might just have a little nap, first.  Just a short one…”

Applejack chuckled as she left her friend to rest.  It had been a stressful couple of days for the poor mare, after all. 






“Riley?” Twilight asked, peering around a door.  There were a few humans in the room, but none of them were Riley as far as she could tell.  If she was honest they all looked a little bit the same to her.  Riley was starting to grow on her and she was confident at picking him out of a crowd, but the rest just sortof blurred together.  They were all subtle variations on the same couple of colours, for a start, how strange was that?  Maybe they would be different if they didn’t shave all their fur off, but that still left the question of why their manes were all the same dull shades of brown.

She said his name again, trying to speak it clearly.  It felt strange on her tongue.  One of the humans said something she couldn’t understand and made two gestures, out of the door and left.  Twilight thanked him.  Even if he didn’t understand her, it was still the polite thing to do.

A few more stops later and she found the man she sought in a busy room underneath one of the frightening sky-chariots they had arrived in, his head and shoulders deep inside the guts of the beast, as if it was trying to consume him.  A few more men were scattered around nearby, holding odd metal parts and cables.  

Without warning the deck under her hooves began to shake and a warning alarm pierced the silence.  From somewhere in the depths of the machinery something began to roar with a gentle whooshing sound, like wind past a closed door on a stormy night.  The intensity of the sound grew and grew until Twilight felt more than a little nervous.  As the deck shook and trembled there was a loud hiss and a cloud of sparkling white vapour poured out around the humans, dissipating quickly.  Whatever was making the noise wound down with a quiet whine until there was only the ticking sound of cooling metal and the soft burble of human conversation.  

Someone spotted her standing in the doorway at last and tugged on Riley’s clothing, pointing at her.  Riley dropped some tools on the floor with a clang and wiped his oily hands on the front of his overalls, adding to the impressive stains he had already acquired there.  “Hello, Twilight, thankyou for coming,” he said, motioning her over to a quieter corner of the cluttered room.  

“What are you doing?” Twilight asked, not caring if it was a rude question.  She had a few pieces of machinery herself, hidden in her playrooms under the roots of the ancient oak tree, so she was no stranger to the concept, but now she felt as if she were inside some huge machine that was as big as her house.  Everywhere she looked pipework and cabling snaked in and out of boxes and intriguing devices.  The floor was a lattice of metal, partially transparent and hinting at yet more fascinating complexities under her hooves.  This was their magic, she realised.  Great, intricate machines that could take them across the entire universe and back again. 

Riley looked a little taken aback by the question but did his best to answer anyhow.  “Um, the… faster-than-sound-propellant-accelerator thing failed, looks like we stripped some blades from the… really-fast-compressing-fan thing, and we’ve been struggling to grow new single-crystal things without a, uh, high-pressure-indivisible-particle-spraying thing…”

He trailed off, looking embarrassed.  “I’m sorry, I don’t know the words for these objects.  If you even have words for them in your language.  They weren’t in any of the books we processed.  Do you have aircraft here?”

“Like these flying craft?  No, there are some chariots that we enchant with magic to allow pegasi to pull them through the sky, but nothing like these.  I’m very interested to learn more about them, though!”

Riley put an arm up and scratched at the back of his head, looking a little abashed.  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Twilight.  If we hadn’t been forced to land here we probably would have hidden these from you entirely.  We’re not really meant to interfere in the development of other species.”

“I don’t see why,” she answered petulantly.  “Imagine how much quicker we could get around.  At the speed you were moving you could probably circumnavigate the globe in a day!” she said lightly, exaggerating for effect.

“More like twenty minutes,” he mumbled after an almost guilty pause.  Twilight just stared in open disbelief.  “They go really fast when they’re working properly.”

“Will you show me?  I’d love to know what that feels like!  What can you see when you move that fast?  Is everything just a big blur?  How do you breathe?  Doesn’t the air heat the metal?  I’d love a ride!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he said, holding his hands out and laughing.  “We’ll see, maybe.  The admiral won’t like it, though, not one bit.”

“You don’t have to tell him,” she said with a cheeky grin, leaning forward and drawing out the ‘have’ to far more syllables that it should have. 

“Look, we’re not having this conversation,” he said irritably, but Twilight thought she was started to pick up on the hidden inflections in the way he spoke now, and he was not being serious.  “You already got me in trouble once, remember, if anything, you owe me.”

Twilight laughed and let the point drop, she could pick that particular subject up again later.  There was just too much to see and do in the belly of the ship to limit herself to just one experience.  “You humans are weird.”

“Well, sorry,” he said grumpily.  

“It was a compliment,” she said with narrowed eyes.  Her attention was caught by something shiny and modular on the worktop and she reached out to it, rotating it and causing the two parts to detach with a gentle clunk.

“I didn’t ask you here so that you could disassemble my spacecraft,” he said reprovingly, pulling some other piece of machinery out of her reach as she poked at it with an inquisitive hoof.  “We’ve got to go on an excursion, and I would like to ask your advice, particularly about the landscape.”

“Oh, well, there’s plenty of maps back at the library, which area did you want?”

“Mostly the nor…” he began, but never finished.

“Be right back!” she called, exchanging knowledge was her thing, she could do this.  With a pop she was gone, unfortunately forgetting about the effects her teleportation spell had on the engineer.  

“Come on, Twilight,” she muttered to herself, digging through piles of dusty tomes in a dark basement under the library.  Not many ponies ever wanted the large scale maps so they had migrated to the back rooms over time, then down to the archives, then the basement, and now they lay almost forgotten about.  Choking and coughing from the dust she galloped upstairs to the relative brightness in the library proper, unrolling some of the maps onto the large oak table there.  

“North, north, north… Unicorn Range, Cloudsdale, Canterlot, Crystal Mountains,” she muttered aloud as she flipped through the pages, checking their extents.  With a gasp she realised what she had just said.  “Canterlot!  Oh, this is just perfect.”

As she ran back to kick the basement door closed (there were some things down there she’d rather other ponies not stumble upon accidentally) she passed a mirror only to catch sight of her reflection and was a little shocked to see the wild mare that stared back at her.  She stopped short and took a few deep breaths, closing her eyes momentarily until her heart stopped thumping away quite so quickly. 

“Calm, Twilight, calm,” the mare in the mirror said to her.  “You’re getting too excited.  They won’t let you go in their flying machine if you seem… unstable.”

“Right, of course,” she replied, smoothing back her mane and trying to make herself presentable again.  She flapped her wings aimlessly, urging the feathers to lie flat again, but the wind just disturbed her frazzled mane again.  She frowned and pushed it back down with magic, determined this time. 

“Okay, status report! Maps: check, doors: check, calm Twilight? Check!”

With another pop she was gone, and reappeared a moment later in the belly of the metal beast.  Riley was glaring at her, massaging his temple with two fingers.  Twilight grinned sheepishly, remembering the first time she had teleported nearby.  “Sorry,” she squeaked. 

A few technicians were scuttling around and tutting as they picked up bits and pieces she had dislodged during her entrance.  She apologised again and backed away, trying to avoid stepping on anything delicate.

“I had planned a surprise for you, you know,” Riley was saying behind her.  “But I’m beginning to reconsider if I actually want to give it or not.”

“For me?  What is it?”

“Later, if you behave,” he said irritably, and this time Twilight was not sure if he was serious or not.   

“I brought maps,” she said hopefully, pushing some things out of the way on the table and spreading the dusty old things out.  She realised how out of place they looked amongst the sleek, shiny glass surface.  It even glowed with a soft white light, like it was illuminated from inside somehow.  Riley stood beside her, leaning over and squinting at them.  They were a little faded, it was true.  And possibly not that accurate.

“This is us?” he asked, pointing a dirty finger at a small unlabelled town.    

“Yup,” she nodded, leaning closer and becoming suddenly aware of how close to him she was.  She could feel the warmth radiating off his skin and smell the oil he was coated in.  “There’s Canterlot, our capital, directly to the north, then the Crystal Mountains behind that, further still is the Crystal Empire.  There’s various other towns and villages just north of us, as well, they probably aren’t on these maps, though.  These are quite old.”

“You don’t say,” he murmured, flicking between several pages rapidly.  Twilight looked up at him and was sure she could see his eyes shimmering in an altogether unnatural manner, and she suppressed a gentle shudder, he possessed an unnerving intensity at times.  

“I’ll be honest, I was hoping for something a little more detailed.  It’s good to know the names of places, but we’ve already been able to get most of this from the radar scans as we came in.”

“Oh,” Twilight said with mild disappointment.  Her heart jumped when the tabletop suddenly changed colour, fading rapidly from a uniform white glow to black.  Abruptly thin green gridlines appeared, then a trace of the coastlines, rivers and mountains appeared on top, more and more detail filling the tabletop.  Riley reached past her and brushed a few fingers across the surface, moving and scaling the map like it was the whole of Equestria laid out before him.  It was mesmerising.  

She reached a hoof up to touch it, and as she made contact with the smooth surface the image jerked, centring on where she had touched.  A tiny delighted squeak escaped her throat and she moved to poke a new bit but Riley batted her foreleg away with his hand before she could interfere further. 

“Behave,” he admonished, dragging the map back again until it was centred on Ponyville.  An image of one of Twilight’s maps faded in over the top of the surface and Riley manipulated it with his fingers until it lined up roughly with their own maps.  Twilight watched in unconcealed astonishment. 

“You have so many wondrous machines,” she said breathlessly.

He laughed.  “And you have your weird ‘magic’,” he said, tapping the tip of her horn with one of his strange fingers.  Twilight leapt backwards in surprise, a jolt of sensation running down her spine and she let out a yelp that caught the attention of the other humans in the bay.  

She felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment.  Riley was staring at her in bewilderment.  “I’m sorry, did that hurt you?”

“No,” she rushed, looking intently at the floor in the hope the flush would go from her face.  “It’s… just a strange sensation, there’s a lot of nerve endings there.  Umm.  Ponies don’t usually… you know, poke it.  In public.  Um.”

“Forgive an ignorant alien, then,” he said with a wide grin.  “I guess there’s still many things we need to learn about one another’s species.  Like how you teleport.  Can you all do that?”

Twilight was glad of the change of topic and timidly returned to the table, keeping a little further from him this time.  “No, just me, and maybe one or two others at the university in Canterlot.  The princesses could, of course, and there’s plenty of references in historical texts to other unicorns who could cast the necessary spells.”

“How far can you go?”

“Not very.  If I try really hard I can just about get across Ponyville, but it’s not easy.  I have to be able to see where I’m going to end up really, or it could get messy.”

He mused on her answer for a bit, staring at the maps thoughtfully.  Twilight spotted an opening and a mischievous grin formed.  “Say… if you let me have a ride in one of your spacecraft, I’ll explain it to you.  I might even take you with me one time.  If you behave, of course.”

Riley shook his head and turned away, but not before Twilight caught the silly expression on his face.  Anything more she was going to say, however, was drowned out by a phenomenal roar from outside, and the suspended floor under her hooves began to shake and shudder.  A disembodied human voice came from all around and she looked about in alarm, eyes wide. 

“What’s going on?” she shouted over the noise.

“Reconnaissance flight,” he yelled back, fiddling with the controls on the table until it switched to a table full of complex data, meaningless to Twilight.  “When we entered your atmosphere we lost contact with one of our craft.  We think it’s crashed some way from here.   They’re going to fly up high and look for any sign of it, then we’re going to go and retrieve it.  We were hoping to get this ship up, too, but it doesn’t look likely at the moment.”

The sound outside was quieting down now, receding into the distance. Twilight rushed to the door and peered out into the sky, watching the other ship climbing rapidly into the blue, riding on a burst of brilliant white light and a tail of smoke.  They were a lot less terrifying now than they had been the first time, although the raw noise they made was still somewhat distressing

When she returned to Riley’s side he barely seemed to notice her, deep in unintelligible conversation with another two humans and, apparently, the disembodied voices that came from hidden speakers somewhere.  The view on the table had changed to a view from underneath the spacecraft, and Twilight watched the ground slide by from impossibly high up.  Even though she had wings she had not dared go much higher than the rooftops, in fact the events on the night of the humans’ arrival was the first time she had been to the clouds at all without her trusty balloon.  

More humans entered the space, and soon she found she was pushed out of the way, barely able to see for the freakishly tall bodies all around her.  They seemed to all be talking at once and the look on Riley’s face was not at all happy.  He was shouting something at someone and getting very agitated.  Twilight jumped as he slammed a fist on the table-top and pushed roughly past her and the others to get to the exit.  The others all followed, Twilight at the back, feeling very bewildered and forgotten about all of a sudden. 

Outside the humans were pointing at the sky and shielding their eyes from the bright sunlight.  Somewhere in the distance a black smudge could be seen in the sky, elongating and descending quite rapidly, and Twilight began to gain an inkling of what was happening.  She kept back, letting the humans grumble amongst themselves, the look on Riley’s face told her he wouldn’t appreciate anymore interruptions, everyone seemed to be talking to him at once.

Ten minutes later he was sitting mostly alone on the leg of one of the metal craft, talking sullenly into a small device he held to his ear.  He was hunched over with his head resting in his hand.  Twilight trotted over and lay down in the shade of the ship a few paces from him, watching him calmly as he slipped the device back into a pocket.

“Are you okay?” she asked eventually.

“Yes.  Just fed up of this place.  No offence,” he said with a weak smile aimed at her.  “Nothing is going right.  You believe that the sun is your goddess, yes?”

“That is correct, Celestia is the spirit of the sun.”

“Well, she doesn’t seem to like us very much.  Your sun has a really chaotic output right now, sunspot activity is off the scale, the amount of radiation it’s pumping out is well beyond our shields.  We were lucky to have come in on the night side, all things considered, or I doubt any of us would have survived.”

“I don’t follow,” Twilight said, frowning.

“We can’t safely fly while the sun is up,” he summarised, a little snappily.  “Which means we’re going to have to go on foot, a prospect I am not looking forward to.”

He sighed and stood wearily, cracking the joints in his lower back in a frightful series of clicks and crunches.  Twilight shuddered.  “I guess you’re waiting for the surprise I promised you, hey?”

“What?  No, I…” she began.  That thought could not have been further from her mind, was that really why he thought she was still there with him?  She tried to find the right words, but he’d already wandered a few paces ahead and she hurried to catch up.  “That wasn’t why I was sitting there, you know.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that there is a surprise,” he said, sounding unconvinced by her assertion.  “Anyhow, this probably won’t wait much longer.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, keep up,” he said, breaking into a jog.  She trotted along beside him, suddenly curious.  By the time they reached their destination he was panting hard, and she wondered what the matter was.  When she’d asked him he seemed to find it funny.

“Four legs, better than two, hey?” he said breathlessly.  “Remind me not to enter any races here.”

He led her inside the building, and she blinked in the darkness as her eyes caught up. 

“Hey, Twilight,” came a familiar and very welcome voice. 

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight cried joyously, spotting the brightly coloured pegasus immediately.  She was propped up in a bed several sizes too big for her, one wing stuck out sideways and held in a metal jig of some kind.  None of this stopped her from practically jumping on the mare and Rainbow began laughing, embracing her friend with her forelegs. 

“You’re kindof squashing my stump,” Rainbow said suddenly and Twilight leapt off the bed faster than she thought she was able to, horror on her face.

“Your… you lost your leg?”

Rainbow looked down morosely at the sheets, and slowly began to pull the edge up while Twilight trembled in trepidation.  Suddenly she drew the sheets back with a flourish and Twilight gasped in shock, only for a puzzled frown to cross her face, her friend still seemed to have the standard number of limbs for a pegasus.  She looked up at Rainbow, who burst into raucous laughter.  

“The look on your face, Twi!” she managed between giggles.  “Oh boy, I’ve been waiting forever for you to arrive so I could do that.”

“Rainbow Dash!” shouted Twilight.  “My heart nearly stopped!  You could have killed me!”

The pegasus continued giggling, unable to form words. 

“I am so glad to see you,” Twilight gushed, calming down and leaning her head on the side of the bed.  “I was so worried about you, I thought… I thought the worst things.”

“Shh,” Rainbow said, stopping laughing.  “I’m loyalty, remember?  That means I’m not going anywhere.”  

“I know, but…”

“Besides, it’d take more than a few space-apes to take Rainbow Dash out, am I right?”

“Space-apes aren’t half as fearsome as they’re made out to be,” said Riley, who’d crept up behind Twilight as they were talking.  Rainbow nodded with a wide grin.  “Humans, on the other hand…”

“Pffft,” Rainbow blew, “Now I know your weakness, I’d take you out anyday, buddy.”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Twilight asked, a little incredulously.  She had been starting to feel a little smug at being the first pony to properly engage with an alien species and was now a little worried Rainbow Dash had swiped that trophy at the last hurdle.

“Of course, this guy saved my life,” Rainbow said in such a matter-of-fact sort of tone that it suddenly seemed perfectly normal.

Riley grinned at the two and made to leave.  “I’m sorry I kept Twilight so long.”  His expression fell.  “Nothing has gone quite to plan lately.”

“No sweat, big guy, catch you later.”

“Riley, wait,” called Twilight, turning to him as he paused.  “I… thankyou.  For looking after her, and generally being… nice.”

He paused, then nodded once and left.  

“What was that?” Rainbow asked, one eye raised.  

“What?”

“That.” 

Twilight groaned, exasperated. “What?”

“You’re acting all weird.” 

Twilight frowned, immediately on the defensive.  “Well, it’s been a weird couple of days.  You know, we met a weird alien race that tried to kill us and’s now our friend.  Don’t you think that’s a bit, you know, weird?”

Rainbow thought for a moment, then, “nah.  We do stuff like this all the time!”

“Oh Rainbow, it’s not been the same without you around.”

“I bet.  And I hope you made the most of it, cause they’re letting me out soon.”

“What?  Already?  But you’ve only been in here a couple of days.”

“I know, right?  They have some incredible stuff here.  They gave me some weird things to drink, tasted terrible but made everything go strange colours.  Colours that make me look bland.  Now my wing feels great, and I can barely even tell my leg was hurt, apart from the patch of fur they shaved off.  That’ll grow back, though.”

“More wonderful things they probably won’t let us have,” Twilight muttered resentfully.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said, shaking her head.  Now was not the time to gripe.  Librarian-Twilight eyed the pile of books next to the bed appraisingly.  “So, what are you reading?” 

“A lot of random stuff, if I’m honest.  The human they sent to your library to get books can’t read, go figure.  I’ve learnt a lot more about cookery and flower cultivation than I ever wanted to know.  I’ve been picking up some of their language, too!  Check this out,” she said before clearing her throat and launching into something totally incomprehensible to Twilight.  

“I have no idea,” she said, shaking her head.

“I said, ‘Twilight is a big old dork’ in human-ish.  Neat, huh?” 

She rolled her eyes theatrically.  “You’ve spent your time wisely, I can tell.”
	
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The admiral was in a terrible mood after Riley delivered news of the fate of the ship they sent up.  Most of his frustration seemed to be directed at Riley, which he felt was somewhat unfair since he had barely been involved in the flight plans.  From hard experience he’d learned that this was the way blame worked in the military, though.  The guy at the top shouts at the guys under him, and they’re expected to make themselves feel better by shouting at their subordinates, and so on until the bottom of the pile where there’s hopefully enough people to smear out the blame sufficiently thinly to avoid distress.  

Unfortunately for Riley, he didn’t technically have any subordinates, his rank of Lieutenant-Commander was purely honorary and officially he was listed as a military contractor, paid by Williams’ office.  After working with the fleet for over a decade it became easy for others to forget that he was outside the chain of command, but he knew that if he pushed his luck by pretending to be in charge too much he would come to regret it. 

“It’s a mistake to go,” Riley said firmly, reiterating an earlier statement in the hope he might listen this time.  The admiral glared at him.  “It’s too risky, we don’t know the terrain, we don’t know the things that live here.  Losing another team would be disasterous.”

“There is no choice, Collins, and you know it.  Without that core we’re stuck here for good.”

“So you’d send your one remaining senior engineer off into the wild, on a jolly hike across god-knows-what, to retrieve a box.”

“We can’t take any chances at recovery.  It’s a complex procedure to remove the core, you told me that yourself.  

“Are you afraid?  Is that what this is about?”  

“No,” Riley replied angrily, then glanced away awkwardly.  “I have a healthy level of apprehension.  Look, I’m not saying I won’t go.  If you order it, then it will be done.  But I am telling you that you’re wrong.”

“What would you suggest instead, Riley?” Williams asked, cheeks reddening in anger once more.  Riley narrowed his eyes and gripped the arms of the chair, bracing for the storm.  “Maybe we should just stay here, leave the human race to it?  These little horses are pretty friendly, we can just live out the rest of our days in peace, dancing under rainbows and baking cakes.  Would you like that?”

Riley fidgeted.  “There is one proposal a team came up with…”

“Ah, you must be referring to doctor Jackson’s proposal,” Williams said with wild gesture and a sneer pulling down the corners of his mouth yet further.  “Whereby we spend the next decade throwing darts at a target a thousand miles away, and hope, maybe pray to some pony gods even, that one of them hits a bullseye.”

“I think I could reduce it to six months,” he mumbled in reply.  It sounded ridiculous, like a petulant teenager who knew he’d lost an argument with his parents but was unwilling to let the matter drop without a token struggle.

“No.  It is not acceptable.  You will mount an expedition, those are your orders.  Assemble a team immediately.”

Riley fought not to glower at him.  “I have a bad feeling.”

“Welcome to life, kid.”

He studied Riley’s face for a moment.  “Come on, have you forgotten how feeble this lot are?  If they’re the dominant species on this planet and they can survive here, you’re going to have no trouble.”

“Fine.”

“Take some of the natives with you.  They can advise.”

“I don’t think they’ll be pleased or willing, but fine.”

“Are we good?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied with a lazy salute. 

“Dismissed.”

Riley stomped angrily back out into the sunshine and felt inordinately angry at everything.  Why was it still morning?  It had been morning forever.  The sun was still low in the sky, and of course he was walking into it with the glare hot in his eyes.  The admiral was always right, and he hated it when he ended up on the wrong foot, arguing against him.  Riley was aware that he could be stubborn to a fault.  Once he took a position he found it difficult to back down, even when it became blindingly obvious that he was in the wrong.  

That made him angry, too.

Preparations for the excursion were painstaking and took far too long.  Finding the right team was awkward, they were short of men already and a minimum guard had to be maintained at ground zero.  Time was of the essence so he couldn’t take too many marines or they would be too slow, but too few and they risked their lives.  He was very uneasy, despite the admiral’s reasoning that there could be nothing more harmful than the ponies.  Riley had skimmed a few books that he had initially discounted as fiction only to realise later that they were actually reference guides of a sort.  There were some peculiar and frightening sounding monsters on this world, things he would rather not meet if the books were to be believed.

Eventually he had settled on a group of eight, himself, another engineer and six of the marines he had fought beside before, a tight-knit group that understood one another.  The next task was to find a pony that could accompany them, and try to work out how to integrate them into the flying column without causing too much friction.  

Convincing Twilight to even let him take one of her people with him was also going to be difficult, he realised glumly. 

“This is perfect!” the unicorn exclaimed as he explained himself, pointing out the crash site on a map.  She was still with the recovering pegasus when he went looking for her.  “It’s right next door!  I’ll come with you myself, to Canterlot.  We can see the Princess, she’ll be able to explain what’s happened here, I’m sure of it.”

“You’re not going without me,” Rainbow Dash interjected from her bed, flexing her newly unpinned wing experimentally.  “You’ll need someone strong and brave, I expect.  I bet the others will all come, too!  It’ll be an adventure, trekking through the wild!  Well, for you lot, I, of course, will be flying.”

“Hold on a moment,” Riley said, frowning at the two.  “We only need one of you.”

“How about three of us?  Some of us should really stay here anyhow,” Twilight mused, practically talking to herself and beginning to pace.  “The town is still in a delicate situation, if all six of us leave the rest are going to worry.  And Rarity and Fluttershy are doing invaluable work at the hospital, so they would probably rather stay here anyhow.  If we tell Pinkie she can organise a return party then she’ll want to stay to prepare.”

“Absolutely not,” Riley said, putting his foot down firmly.  “One of you.  And it shouldn’t be anyone your town can’t afford to do without, for example, not you.”

Twilight stopped talking at last and stared at him in distaste.  “If it’s dangerous then that settles it, I would never ask somepony to take my place.”

“And if it’s dangerous she’s not going alone!” Rainbow Dash said with finality.  

“We can’t be slowed down,” he argued.  “This is not a sight-seeing trip, nor is it an escort for you to get to your city.  This is a military operation.  One of you may accompany me.”

“Well, none of us are going,” Twilight told him with a confrontational glare.  She stomped her hoof on the spotlessly clean white floor, and he felt the vibrations through his feet.  He glared right back at her.

“However,” she continued, with a sly smile, “Three of us just so happen to going to Canterlot soon.  It’s a strange coincidence that we’re going in just the same direction.  I look forward to bumping into you on the road, I guess?”

“Fine.”

Riley stomped back outside the infirmary, frustrated with the situation.  He was certain there was a better way he could have handled the situation, they were supposed to be in charge.  Humans were clearly the stronger species, yet the ponies were as stubborn as mules.  He grunted, almost breaking a smile at the pun.  

With a weary sigh he rubbed at his eyes and tried to plan the next move, having three ponies along instead of one shouldn’t change his preparations too much, but years of bitter experience had taught him to double and triple check everything, no matter how small the change.  You often got just one chance at success, but many chances at failure at every step along the road.

Sitting at his desk sometime later, illuminated by the glow from the computer screen in front of him, he was feeling a little calmer.  The ponies could be frustrating, but perhaps having several of them would be for the best after all.  Redundancy was one good reason, as cold as the thought felt, but beyond that he was the only human in their group to know more than a couple of words in their language, a single individual on their own was inevitably going to be lonely, which could lead to problems in itself.  Native psychology was a big mystery at the moment.  Three would hopefully help to keep the group stable, yet without being a large enough number that they would become a problem to manage.

Things were looking up. 

There came a knocking at the door and he called to enter.  “Sir, we need you.”

“What is it?”

“There’s a disturbance, sir, across town.  Group of natives are acting aggressive, taken some hostages.”

He looked up in surprise.  It was very foolish of the ponies to try to resist, they’d had two violent demonstrations of just how wide the gulf between their species was in terms of military ability.  “Does the admiral know?”

“No, sir, he’s unavailable.”

He followed the marine outside into the bright light.  He was whisked across the town on the back of a small quad, its little motors whining reluctantly under their combined weight.  The marine seemed oblivious to obstacles and charged straight ahead with little regard for uneven ground or rocks.  Riley braced against the back of the vehicle and gritted his teeth, things had just been looking positive and he had jinxed it by daring to feel a glimmer of optimism.

They pulled alongside a field where a small research tent had been built in a corner, green camouflage netting only serving to make the thing more conspicuous in the meadow’s colourful flowering grasses.  A ring of ponies, some armed, were arranged haphazardly around the tent, looking as angry as they could manage.  Several other smaller groups were scattered nearby, watching proceedings with curiosity.  A couple of techs were standing uneasily in the doorway to the tent, guarded by four stallions with lances.  They looked uncomfortable.  Facing the tent was a single squad, and to either side a couple of fire teams, one appeared to have been trying to flank the tents, prompting the ponies to spread thinner into a ring.  All were alert, weapons raised, unflinching. 

“What’s going on?” he demanded loudly, jumping off the quad and making for the largest group.  Their senior officer stood and saluted briefly.  

“Sir, natives have taken two hostages.  They wanna fight us.  The admiral were very clear that we shouldn’t engage.  Orders, sir?”

“Maintain position.”  Riley glanced around, surveying the field.  It looked as though the ponies had been performing some burials recently, fresh mounds of brown dirt were visible in the far corner, arranged neatly in rows.  He wasn’t aware of what the techs were doing here, although he could imagine that whatever it was they were up to had stepped on some toes.   Hooves.

“Please put down your weapons,” he called out in Equestrian, standing and striding purposefully towards the tents.  They tensed and he could hear the creaking of leather and the rattle of metal joints.

A rustle of wings made him look up and he saw Twilight Sparkle dropping ungracefully from the sky to land with a soft thud beside him.  She glanced up at him questioningly then turned to the others. 

“What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded, wings flared, trotting ahead of him.  The assembled ponies looked at each other nervously before two stepped forwards, lowering their spears.  

“Princess Twilight,” one said, bowing.  “These creatures are bad news.”

“Explain yourselves,” she said, drawing herself up higher, eyes narrowed.  Riley watched the interaction with interest.  

“Miss, we reckons it’s them who’s been kidnapping, like,” the second said, a little sheepishly.  “An’ they’ve been watchin’ us bury our dead, it’s creepy.  T’ain’t right.”

“That’s preposterous,” she told them.  “They aren’t creepy.  I’m sure if we asked them to give you a little space they would agree.”

She turned and looked at Riley.  “Uh, of course,” he blustered, snapping out of his reverie.  “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“Three more ponies have gone missing, Princess,” the first said, undeterred.  “One of them was little Light Charmer, just a foal.”

Twilight’s expression softened and she smiled sadly at him.  “A lot of ponies have been lost to us, these last few days.  It’s a tragedy without doubt, but we can’t jump to conclusions like this.”

“No,” the stallion said, stamping his hoof for emphasis.  “No.  Light Charmer was with his mother not more than a day ago, alive and well.”

Twilight looked more concerned, glancing around.  “Could it be a mistake?  Perhaps he’s simply wandered off.  We’ll organise a search party, check around the town.”

The stallion growled and breathed out through his nose with a hiss.  “Deep Shadow, my own friend, vanished a day ago.  And there have been others, princess, at least ten ponies are now unaccounted for.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.  “There’s got to be a rational explanation.  There’s a lot of confusion right now, it’s easy to miscount, easy to get distracted.”

He sighed, and glanced around at his compatriots, then stood up straighter, hefting the spear at his side.  He fixed her with a steely gaze.  “This has to stop.  You have invited these creatures into our town, given them free reign to come and go at will, yet they answer to nopony.  They have to go.  Forgive me for daring to question you, princess, but there are some who would argue that your judgement seems… clouded, these days.”

Twilight frowned again, and Riley wondered how often her authority had been questioned before.  She didn’t seem to be handling it very well, at any rate.  He stepped forward and clapped his hands, drawing their attention.  A few of them still seemed surprised that he could speak their language. 

“I am Riley Collins, senior acting officer, at present.  I understand we may have overstepped the line here at your burial site, and I promise we will remove the intrusion to your privacy immediately.  Please believe me when I tell you we mean no offence, we are strangers here, unfamiliar with your customs and society.

“I am sorry to hear of your loss, but you have my word that we are not responsible.  We have not abducted a single inhabitant of this town, nor will we.  We do not wish any further violence or hostilities.  Please lower your weapons and release my people.”

The stallion took a step closer to him, within striking distance, and behind him he heard the clatter of rifles being aimed tighter.  He drew himself up, coming level with Riley’s shoulders.  “You do not belong here, and you and your people should leave, right away.  There is no basis for trust, between us.”

Riley glared at the stallion, holding his gaze.  He felt deeply angered by his attitude, they had no right to speak like that to him, and they were wasting time.  “We’ll be gone in a week.  And as for trust, well you’re just going to have to take it on faith,” he snapped, and dropped his voice a little lower.  He didn’t know how acute the ponies’ hearing was.   “But know this, if we wanted to abduct your people, we would not have to sneak around to do it.  If necessary we could take this town by force quicker than you can imagine, and we will, in a heartbeat, if you cause us reason to.  Do you want that blood on your hands?”

The stallion held his gaze, and Riley stood back, addressing the whole crowd again.  “We have offered you many goodwill gestures.  We have helped your injured, given you materials to rebuild your walls, food to feed the hungry, medicine to cure the sick.  If you ask it of us, we will help you form a search party to look for these lost ponies, we have the technology to help.  But taking arms against us won’t help you in slightest.”

There was some quiet murmuring from the aggressors, and some of them were lowering their weapons and shuffling their hooves.  The pony before him was breathing heavily, still glaring at him with undisguised disgust in his eyes. 

“Back down,” he said quietly.  “This is a dangerous path you’re treading.”

To his relief the two finally broke and backed away, gesturing to their large gang.  Within a few minutes the herd had broken up and was dispersing.  The human marines maintained their positions until Riley ordered them to stand down once the field was secure once more.  He went to speak to the two technicians, who were both a little shaken and willing to explain their orders without prompting.  

As he suspected, they were examining the pony burial site, and had been poking around graves with various scanners.  So far they had avoided digging anything up, but it was only a matter of time.  Some anger and resentment had clearly been brewing for some time, and their thoughtlessness had been the catalyst that caused it to erupt.  He instructed them to move their field lab back into the town, and they reluctantly began ferrying equipment.  Riley left a few marines to help them with the heavy lifting, under the watchful and highly suspicious gaze of a few ponies that lingered. 

Twilight walked beside him as he made his way back to the landing zone.  “I’m sorry for that,” she said to him, fidgeting her wings on her back.  “I don’t know why they’d think something like that.”

“It’s natural,” he said.  “Natural to be afraid of outsiders.  Especially us, considering our entrance.  Hell, I’d be afraid of us, if I was in their situation.”

She was silent for a moment, then asked awkwardly, “You wouldn’t… do that… would you?  What you said?”

“Take the town by force?”

She nodded, biting her lip.  He considered his word carefully.  They would, of course, if it came to that.  It wouldn’t be his decision of course, but he knew how fiercely the admiral would obey his own orders.  In the end it really would depend upon how large the uprising actually was.  If it was just a field with a small group of angry ponies then it wasn’t hard to put down, but if half the town turned against them then things could certainly get ugly very quickly.

“No,” he said, hoping it sounded genuine.  She looked up at him nervously, and he felt guilty.  “No,” he said again, with more conviction.  “We won’t turn on you.”

“Promise?” she pleaded.  “We couldn’t bear anymore.  These ponies have suffered enough.”

“There’s no reason to for us to harm you,” he reiterated, trying to smile reassuringly for her sake.  “If there’s no threat, we’ll leave you alone.  You need to see to it that there’s no threat, Twilight Sparkle.  You are their leader, and that is your role in this.”

She looked down at the ground.  “I don’t feel ready to lead.  I’m not good with words!  I can’t convince ponies.  We used to have a mayor, but she was visiting Canterlot when the trouble hit.  We could really do with her, right now.  The townsfolk trust her.”

“Still, they respect you.  Like it or not, they’ll look to you for guidance.  Control them.  That’s just another reason you should stay here, and not come with me.  Send someone else.”

“No, I want to, I need to go to Canterlot myself, and I don’t know who else could go.  I have to do this.” 

He nodded and she looked up at him hesitantly.  “I have to know, though, have you… have you taken anypony?”

“No,” he said firmly and stopped in his tracks, forcing her to skitter to a halt beside him.  “I promise you, Twilight, we aren’t like that.  We haven’t kidnapped anyone.”

She nodded and breathed a visible sigh of relief.  “Thankyou.  I believe you, and I’m thankful to hear it.  I didn’t want to think the worst.  I’m sorry this is happening.  I really thought things were going to be okay.”  

“Then let us both hope this was the end of it.”

“Riley, to my office, please,” crackled the admiral’s voice in his earpiece, and he left Twilight to her own devices, thankful to have the mess sorted out.

“Sir?” he asked, stepping through the door.  Williams was busy dropping equipment on a crate in the corner.  He took his hat off and tossed it on the table, sitting down at his chair. 

“I’m glad you were able to deal with that quickly.  I couldn’t make it in time.  What happened?”

“There’s a lack of leadership, and the town is afraid.  There’s some resentment, and a lot of anger.  A band of natives had organised a protest of sorts, and held a couple of the tech boys hostage.”

Williams raised an eyebrow. 

“I use the word in its loosest sense.  I’m fairly certain the two men could have overpowered their captors, even without the marines to back them up.  The science team could do with a gentle reprimand, though, their somewhat callous approach to researching the local burial traditions would have benefited from some tact.”

Williams nodded.  “In any case, they’ve dispersed for now, and hopefully if we employ a little more tact they’ll stay peaceful long enough for us to get out of here.  It seems they’ve lost a few townsfolk, and they were quick to blame us.  I’ve promised them some small amount of assistance if they want to organise a search party.”

The admiral glanced up at him and narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Do you disapprove, sir?” Riley asked, a little surprised.  “I was under the impression we could spare a couple of men for an hour or two.”

“No,” Williams said, sounding undecided.  “Of course, see if the science team can help out, they’ve got scanners of all sorts, I’m sure.”

Something felt off, Williams rarely sounded unsure of himself, and Riley watched his face carefully.  “Were they… correct, sir?”

“Of course they are,” he snapped back.  “I question why you would think otherwise!  We have a duty to research this race, while we’re here.  Ultimately it’s not my call, of course, Captain Hadley’s in charge of that mess.  I think they’ve got a dozen or so of them, probably already in stasis.  Regardless, we need to maintain the illusion of helping to find them, so you go ahead and arrange a search party, if that’ll help calm relations.  I would rather not have to shoot anyone else.”

Riley tried to collect his feelings, he was a little unsure how he felt.  It made sense, but the humane part of him rejected it strongly.  On top of that, he had just stood in front of a group and given them his solemn word that they weren’t involved.  He chewed his lip angrily.  That had made him an unwitting liar. 

“May I ask, why am I only just finding out about this?” he managed, his voice thin and strained.  “I could have done with knowing this information an hour ago.”

Williams rolled his eyes theatrically.  “For this very reason, I know you, Riley, and I knew you wouldn’t like it.  I didn’t want you involved, or worrying about it.  It’s unfortunate you had to find out this way, but that’s the matter of it.  You have your orders, see them carried out.”

“Yes, sir,” he said at length, hiding a sigh.  





With all the interruptions it had taken longer than he anticipated for Riley to finally get his marines together and gather the three ponies that were travelling with them.  Persuading them to stick to a strict military schedule was apparently impossible.

“We’re travelling fast and light,” Riley said to his assembled team.  He hated pep talks.  Twilight Sparkle was attentively listening to him, even though he was still speaking in English.  She was trying to make up for the lazy attitude of the other two, he decided.  Rainbow Dash appeared to be busy fidgeting around in the air above them, and Applejack was leaning casually against a fence, looking half asleep with her hat pulled low over her eyes.

“Local intel. suggests we’ll be travelling largely over scrubland, so we will be moving quickly.  You know the brief, we get there, we get the core, and we get back here.  We have a window of opportunity to leave this rock: the next night cycle.  There should be ample time to get back before the next sunrise.”

He repeated part of it to the three ponies that stood to one side.  “We’re going fast, there’ll be no waiting for stragglers.”

“Trust me buddy, you’ll be struggling to keep up with me,” boasted Rainbow Dash, already airborne after her human-aided recovery.  There was something quite remarkable about how well their surgery and technology had taken to the equine race, it didn’t work anywhere near as quickly on humans.

Their motley squad fell out, the six marines and two engineers, himself and a thin man called Sadler, marching in an orderly fashion through the town, one brightly coloured pegasus flying lazy circles overhead and two ponies following behind at a gentle trot.  The contrast between the humans’ colourless tactical wear and the brightly coloured ponies was striking, even more so for the three having finally managed to find time for baths.  They were looking a lot less scruffy, Rainbow Dash in particular looking quite stunning in her full polychromatic glory.

He was still slightly bitter at Twilight for arguing.  It was already causing him hassle, and they had barely been moving half an hour.  In particular the pegasus had learnt some snatches of English phrases, very few of them polite, and took every opportunity to call down to them from above.  His team was well disciplined, and took no notice, but it was irritating nonetheless.  Applejack, the ‘ordinary’ pony had an accent that bothered him and made eavesdropping on her quiet conversations with Twilight difficult.  One guide would have been much, much less stress.  Preferably an unfriendly, miserable old nag that wouldn’t try to befriend them quite so much.  Twilight was coming across as somewhat desperate and more than a little clingy.

“Twilight,” called Rainbow Dash from above as she descended from much higher up, “there’s something really weird going on.”

“What’s the matter?” Twilight called back, stopping the retelling of whatever legend she was explaining.  Riley had stopped listening properly a while ago.

“There’s trees.”

Twilight blinked slowly, evidently unsure how to respond.  Riley looked around, there were trees.  Several of them, in fact.  He began to question Rainbow’s suitability for the mission, had their interference and medicine caused her mental issues?

“I mean, there’s a lot of trees,” Rainbow continued.  “And they start in a big circle around Ponyville.  Really big ones.”

Twilight took to the sky, flapping her large wings inelegantly and blowing leaves and dust about.  Riley held his hand in front of his face, glaring irritably at her.  In a moment she was back down again, barely having got above the treetops.  “I don’t like heights,” she said, frowning at him when he raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

They didn’t have to wait long as soon they came across the beginning of a line of very tall trees, wide and growing close to one another.  There was a slight embankment beneath them, a discontinuity in the landscape.  It was a curiously neat line, perfectly straight as far as the eye could tell.  The foliage on the plants even seemed to follow the cut.     

“There’s trees,” Twilight said, staring.

“Mind explaining what’s significant about them?” Riley asked, stopping the group.  They looked very similar to trees one might expect to find on Earth.

“They shouldn’t be here, this is farmland,” Twilight said, frowning.

“Have we taken the wrong route?”

“No, and Rainbow says this is all over.”  Riley watched her turn around and look at the clear land behind, then back to the thick forest in front.  “What has Discord done?”

“Well, I see no way but through them.”  Riley ordered the team to move on, and soon they were forging a path through the dense undergrowth and clambering over or around fallen trees, apparently rotten through.  The forest was cool and damp and so very alive, thick moss growing on everything and other plants in turn growing on that.  It felt extremely old, and Riley couldn’t believe that it hadn’t been there for hundreds of years, at least.  

The ponies were reluctant to follow them into the gloom, very much on edge.  Applejack had put on a brave face eventually and marched straight in, head held high, and of course once she was in Rainbow had soon followed, not about to be out-braved by her friend, even if it did mean walking under the trees instead of flying above them.  Twilight had remained unconvinced and it had taken some prodding from her friends to get her to reluctantly follow them. 

“This isn’t right,” she whispered beside Riley, speaking for the first time in ten minutes.  Her ears had drooped and she had finally stopped talking at him, the close, quiet atmosphere making her too nervous.  They plodded onwards, and it was hard going.  “I think we should find another way.”

“It’s a forest, Twilight.  These used to grow everywhere on my planet.”

“Don’t be smart,” she snapped, apparently not in the mood for games at all.  “It’s not a natural forest.  There’s got to be magic here, but I can’t sense it.  Something’s wrong.”

“Well, if Rainbow’s eyes are telling the truth then there’s no choice.  We go through, or we go back.”

Twilight peered around nervously.  “Maybe we should go back.”

“Two of you may return if you wish,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly. 

She seemed to think about it for a moment, then shook her head and set her mouth in a firm, resolute line.  “No, I must be brave.  Whatever is happening here, I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

“Attagirl,” he said, a little more sarcastically than he had meant to.  She stared at him, the phrase hadn’t really translated into Equestrian very well.  

“I can’t help but feel like we’re being watched, though,” she said nervously, looking up into the boughs of the trees.  It was easy to believe one could see black shapes amongst the patterns of the shifting leaves, all too easy to let the mind play tricks.

“Are there monsters between here and Canterlot,” he asked levelly.  

“No,” she responded hesitantly.

“Then there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“…but there isn’t a forest, either.  Not normally.”

“Sir,” one of the marines radioed over some time later.  Riley had stopped to work something sharp out of his boot.  “I think you want to come see this.”

The soldier had found a small clearing, clearly artificial.  In the centre was a tiny pond beneath some low rocks, a little trickle of water ran from a hole near the top, a natural fountain of sorts.  On top was a small statue of a pony, carved quite crudely, but recognisable even so.  Underneath was a much finer engraving of a swooping, speckled cloud and a large star on a stick.

Twilight rushed over to it, pushing the marine out of the way and peering at it from all angles, inspecting the back and sides, even tapping the statue with a hoof.  She no longer looked afraid, completely distracted by the new find.

“That symbol looks familiar,” she said suspiciously, mostly to herself.  “That’s somepony’s cutiemark, I’m sure of it.”

Riley reminded himself to ask about the marks.  It seemed as though all the adults had them, so he had assumed it was some form of coming-of-age thing, perhaps a family crest.  Whatever it was, it seemed to be part of the fur itself, a precise pattern of pigments that grew back, rather than a traditional tattoo. 

Rainbow and Applejack had joined Twilight and were inspecting the fountain as well.  “Ah can’t say it looks familiar to me,” Applejack said with a casual shrug, losing interest immediately.  She bent down to lap water from the pool.  Rainbow did the same before flying back up through the trees, pleased to be able to stretch her wings again after being trapped underneath the oppressive canopy for so long.  

Riley checked their heading on his handheld, they had begun to drift slightly east.

“What’s it doing out here?” Twilight was asking of nobody in particular.

“It doesn’t seem very relevant to our current objective,” Riley said, hinting strongly that they should move on.  He indicated some of the strong saplings that had started to grow in the clearing.  “Whoever built this has long gone.”

“But it might help us understand what’s happening here,” Twilight objected, then took one look at his face and relented.  “But I suppose you’re right.  I do want to get to Canterlot as fast as possible, after all.”

After a while they had begun to descend into a valley, trees even thicker around them, and the sun began to disappear behind clouds, casting them into even deeper gloom.  The sound of birds in the trees and animals rustling in the undergrowth was clear all around them, peaceful and calm.  The endless forest carried on and on as far as they could tell. 

Riley had called a rest in a slight natural clearing on the banks of a large stream.  They had been struggling through the forest for the better part of an Earth day, and he and his men were beginning to show signs of fatigue.  Small tents were pitched and five of them got some rest while three stood watch, weapons armed and alert.  Since the statue in the clearing Riley had started seeing shapes himself, snatches of movement out of the corner of his eyes when he wasn’t paying attention, rustles that were surely more than just the wind.  He needed a rest. 

The ponies had moved off some way and were dozing in the intermittent sun, Applejack lying on her back with her hat over her eyes.  Rainbow had vanished up a tree and the sounds of snoring could be heard from a branch.  Twilight was fidgeting in the shade of an oak tree, nestled amongst its thick roots on a blanket, clearly unable to sleep properly in the bright daylight.

He paced around the five tents, coming to stand by the other marine on guard, facing away slightly to maximise coverage.  The silence of the forest was a little unnerving.  At least when they had been on the move they were making noise and it distracted the mind.  Twilight’s concern and paranoia had begun to take root in his mind, although he wasn’t about to admit it. 

“Bet you didn’t think you’d be climbing through forests when you left home,” he said quietly, just wanting to talk to someone to break the awful silence. 

“No, sir,” the marine answered.  “Been a strange tour, no question ‘bout it.”

“Do you ever regret signing up?” 

The marine gave a short bark of a laugh.  “Never for a second, sir.  This is my life.  Nowhere else’d have me.”

“Got much family back home?”

“Got a sister, that’s ‘bout it, sir.”

Any further meaningless chatter was cut short by a rustle in the trees.  The marine’s gun shot up, his attention completely focused.  Riley followed the sound, squinting into the gloom.  Out in the clearing it was far brighter and the view into the darkened interior of the trees was pretty much non-existent.  There was another rustle, a little further away this time.  Riley’s modifications allowed him to override his own irises, fortunately, and he switched into darkness mode, wincing as the glare of the sun made the front of his brain ache.  

What he saw shocked him.  “Ambush!” he yelled, bringing his own weapon up.  Suddenly there was action all around, soldiers scrambling out of the tents behind him and all around from the trees came the sound of whooping and the crashing of hooves through the underground. 

Within seconds they were surrounded on all sides by many ponies, some with crude weapons held in their hooves, and a few unicorns amongst them, their horns flickering fitfully.  Riley’s marines were arranged in a tight circle, all facing outwards, their weapons trained on the group, steady as a rock.  They were outnumbered at least five-to-one, although having seen how ineffective the Ponyville residents had been Riley wasn’t sure that it was actually against their favour. 

“Orders, sir?” the marine asked, his voice low. 

“Hold fire,” he said.  He lowered his own gun and called out to the assembled ponies, noticing how thin and filthy they were, their teeth yellowed and eyes wary, never staying in one place.  “We mean you no harm.”

A few of the ponies narrowed their eyes at him.  “We’re just passing through,” he continued.

“What’s the meanin’ of this?” came Applejack’s outraged cry behind him.  There was some scuffling.  “Git yer’ dirty hooves offa me, or I’ll buck y’all into next week!”

Over by Twilight there was even more commotion, although it didn’t sound as if they were fighting.  The word “alicorn” and “princess” were being bandied about.  Twilight reared up on her hind legs, flapping her wings for balance and peering over the assembled ponies, trying to see her friends and Riley.  

“What’s happening?” she called forlornly.  “Who are these ponies?”

Riley shrugged, actions exaggerated so she could see him.  He glanced up, seeing Rainbow Dash looking down at them from her branch.  As far as he could tell they hadn’t noticed her, and he said “Pegasus, stay quiet,” in english, loudly.  The ponies around looked at him suspiciously again.  He risked another glance up and she nodded at him, creeping back into the shadows.

“You will come with us,” said a gaunt, grey stallion, stepping forwards from the line surrounding them.  “You are our prisoners.”

“Lower your weapons, men,” Riley said quietly, “but keep them armed.”

His hopes came true; the group didn’t seem to recognise the guns as weapons, and they made no attempt to take them away.  They were marched at a fierce pace through the forest for fifteen minutes, passing several other groups of scruffy ponies that followed them with their eyes, partially hidden in the undergrowth. 

They emerged into a large camp amongst the trees where they were thinnest.  Some effort had been made to clear spaces, but the camp looked very temporary, like that of a nomadic tribe.  A great many more ponies stood about, watching them with undisguised interest as they were marched through the temporary shelters to a clearing in the centre where a fire burned cleanly.  Foals ran around underfoot, and the men could be forgiven for thinking they were actively trying to trip them up.

Twilight was being herded by a group of twelve ponies, surrounding her but making no attempt to actually touch her, unlike Applejack who had been tied up and was being carried across a large stallion’s back.  She was still wriggling angrily. 

“Who are you ponies?” he could hear Twilight asking as they brought her closer.

“Hmm,” hummed a very old mare sitting by the fire, her wizened face scrutinising Twilight.  While most of the ponies seemed to forgo clothes or jewellery she was an exception, draped with gaudy beads and shiny trinkets, her long, drooping ears pierced in many places and thick golden bands pulling them down further.  She stood unsteadily, beads clattering, and trotted over to Twilight, inspecting her as she walked around in a circle.  “You are an alicorn.”

“I am Twilight Sparkle,” she replied, confusion written all over her face.  “Princess Celestia’s protégé.  And I demand you answer me: who are you?  Why have you taken us prisoner?”

“We are the Lulamoon tribe.  You are trespassing in our territory.  What business have you here?”

Riley was having a little bit of trouble understanding their captors, their accents were thick and far different to anything he had heard in Ponyville.  Twilight seemed to have no such trouble, and she gasped, her eyes twinkling in that way Riley had learnt meant she had worked something out. 

“Trixie!” she blurted out.  “I knew it.  That was Trixie’s cutiemark!”

“Great,” said Applejack, now on the ground and ungagged.  “Her.”

“I know Trixie very well,” Twilight said brightly, encouraged by this.  “Actually, we’re friends.”

The old mare smiled softly.  “We, too, strive to know the Great Trixie.  To better our understanding of Her ways.  We are glad you have let Her into your heart.”

“Is she here?” Twilight asked hopefully, looking around.  “Trixie?”

“She is with us all,” the mare replied sagely.  “Sit, Twilight Sparkle, tell us of yourself.”

“I don’t understand,” Twilight said, sitting automatically on a long bench made from a fallen tree, smooth and polished from so many ponies sitting on it over time.  

The marines stood calmly, but Riley could see they were alert, taking in their surroundings with a practised eye.  As interesting as it was to observe if it took too much longer they would have to fight their way out, they were wasting precious time that they could ill afford to lose.  Even with their disadvantage in numbers it shouldn’t be an impossible task, he had noticed that there were no pegasi amongst the group, only earth ponies and a few unicorns.  They all looked malnourished, many of them old.  Hopefully once the shooting started they would realise that they hadn’t a chance and simply run. 

“Trixie is your… goddess?” Twilight asked, incredulously.  She lowered her voice, muttering to herself, and Riley leant closer to try and hear her.  “How’d she pull that off?”

“She watches over us, and keeps us safe in Her forest.”

“This forest is her doing?” Twilight asked, alert again.  “She’s not… in league with him, is she?”

The old mare cocked her head to one side, and the fire crackled loudly.  “I do not understand you, my child.”

Twilight whispered Discord’s name and the mare sat back.  “That is a name from legend, to be sure,” she said wistfully, with a soft smile on her face as her rheumy eyes unfocused.   “I recall, now, the tales told to my sisters and I, when we were very young fillies.  Discord, the fraudster, chased from settlement to settlement as he boasts of feats he cannot match.  Such were our bedtime stories.”

Twilight stared, mouth hanging open very slightly.  Riley could sense the peculiar tension in the air.  She looked confused and as though she were trying hard to think before she spoke.

“I think we’re going to need to get out of here, soon,” Riley said quietly to the marines.  There were some muted “sirs” and he could hear the soft click of safeties being switched off.  He was wondering how best to indicate his intention to Twilight when a noisy commotion in the trees above drew everyone’s attention. 

Rainbow Dash half fell, half flew down from the trees, a shower of leaves and twigs raining down with her.  She was breathing heavily and looked distinctly panicked.  “Changelings!” she gasped, landing in front of Twilight.  Riley could see bits of forest caught in her mane and tail, as if she had been chased through quite a lot of it.  “There’s changelings here!”

“What?!” Twilight exclaimed, leaping to her hooves.  She glared suspiciously at the ponies around her all of a sudden, horn aglow and a bright light bursting forth.  The marines all suddenly brought up their weapons, knocking their captors to the side and forming a protective ring around Riley and his engineer.  

“To arms!” cried the grey stallion, galloping away from them.  Most of the assembled crowd was doing the same.  Twilight stood by the fire, staring around in confusion.  

“What is it, Twilight?” Riley asked urgently, pushing past the marines and crouching beside her, whatever was happening was cause for a great amount of commotion and action from the entire camp.  Children and the infirm were being rushed away and ponies ran in every direction.  Rainbow was untying Applejack, tearing at the knots with her teeth.  

“Changelings, monsters from the old world, fae, shape-shifters.  They take the place of somepony close to you and feed off your love for them.  I thought we dealt with them a few years ago, but they must have regrouped.  Oooh, this is very bad!”

“They’re also really ugly,” Rainbow said, spitting into the dust.  “They’re not in disguise, figure they can’t get the food these days.  Here they come!”

All about them was a hissing sound, and countless angular green eyes glared out sinisterly at them from all around.  With an inhuman screeching they began pouring out of the trees, chitinous black scales glittering in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the tree branches high above them, their filmy, insect-like wings buzzing in the damp, humid air.

The ponies in the camp were fighting with a ferocity that belied their slender bodies and sickly appearance, jumping and leaping through the trees nimbly, delivering powerful kicks that shattered plate and bone, and vicious swipes from long curved blades that took off limbs with ease.   

On instinct Riley brought up his rifle, firing three rounds into the chest of one of the horrors that dropped down from above him.  The chatter of his gun added to the orchestra of precise, controlled gunfire from the squad around him, the shots echoing amongst the trees as changelings burst into sprays of stinking green fluids.

Twilight stood apart, firing small volleys of blinding light from the tip of her horn, light that crackled across anything it hit, knocking their attackers from the sky.  Riley could feel every shot tingle in his implants, the radiation from whatever she was doing sending spurious impulses to his nerves.   

Rainbow Dash was zipping around the trees, shooting from one to the next in a blur, the afterimage of her brightly coloured mane and tail leaving multihued trails in Riley’s vision.  The changelings couldn’t react fast enough and she sent several into a terminal spin, their filmy wings fluttering uselessly. 

“Sir!” yelled a marine suddenly and he turned his head to see a wall of the black critters heading straight for them, swirling and pulsating around something.  Twilight saw it too and began shooting into the mass instead.  

“Run!” she called through gritted teeth.  “It’s their queen!”

As the changelings fell away, picked off one by one, Riley caught sight of a towering beast, taller than any man, a vision from nightmares.  Striding forwards with malice and hunger in her slitted eyes she lowered her terrible head and let forth a blast of green plasma from her crooked horn.  

Twilight dived out of the way, flapping her wings for extra speed.  The green zap sizzled past her, kicking up a thick cloud of dust and leaves from the ground.  Twilight was preparing another spell, but the huge queen was much faster and the second green blast took Twilight straight in the face.  She cried out in distress and her body tumbled several paces back, twitching fitfully.   

“Rainbow Dash!” he yelled, searching the trees for the pegasus.  “Fall back,” he ordered the marines.  “Defend her.”

The marines obeyed immediately and formed a protective wall in front of the prone Twilight.  A quick glance told him she was still breathing.  “Grenade, mark,” yelled a marine, throwing an incendiary device.  As one unit they closed their eyes at the precise moment, the blinding flash still visible through their eyelids.  

It was enough to knock the queen off balance, and she let out a fearsome shriek at the blast, her changelings scattered some distance from her.  Apparently they were not expecting to deal with human weapons.

“Take her away,” Riley ordered Rainbow Dash as she landed behind them, already fretting over Twilight.  He reloaded his weapon as the queen’s horn began to glow again.  The marines were attentive and needed no prompting.  They scattered in all directions, making themselves a spread target.  Riley threw himself to the ground as a bolt of green light sizzled overhead, driving his cybernetics crazy and sending every muscle in his body taut at once.  It was like cramp, only everywhere, all at once.  He wanted very much to shout in pain, but his jaw was clenched shut too tightly.  Panic started to set in as it didn’t wear off, and he was a sitting target, unable to act.

Fortunately the queen took him for dead and leapt forwards, razor-sharp hooves thudding into the dusty ground bare inches from his face.  As she passed overhead he spotted their chance, the exposed and un-armoured underside of her belly, already bleeding from shrapnel. 

Limbs barely under his own control he just managed to point his assault rifle upwards and squeezed the trigger, the hollowpoint rounds piercing the thin chitin there and penetrating into her chest.  She howled in pain and every changeling on the field abruptly ceased their attacks, all desperately returning to defend her.

Riley barely managed to roll out of the way of her kicking hooves as she fell thrashing to the ground.  He stiffly crawled away as the changeling horde convulsed around her, a heaving bundle of bodies and wings.  The marines were firing on full automatic into the pulsating mass, only stopping to reload. 

All of a sudden the changelings dispersed, shrieking and calling to one another wildly as they spiralled into the trees, knocking one another in their haste to get away.  The changeling queen lay dead and motionless, her luminescent blood soaking into the dirt.  

“Jesus,” swore one of the men, wiping the sweat and blood from his eyes with the back of a hand.  “The hell were they?”

“They’re the sort of things I warned the admiral about,” Riley snapped with a little more heat than was maybe necessary.  “Where are the ponies?”

“Rainbow’s got Twilight in one o’ the huts,” Applejack said breathlessly, galloping up to them and beckoning them to follow.  Her fetlocks were splattered with dark green mush.  He hurried after her, somewhat worried. 

“I’m sorry, Riley,” Twilight said to him as he came through the doorway, having to duck to get under the low lintel.  She looked a little dazed, her eyes slightly unfocused and wild, but otherwise she appeared unhurt.

He knelt down beside her, one hand on her shoulder.  “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and then apologising again.  “As you can tell, I’m not much of a fighter.”

“You did fine,” he said with a gentle smile, and then stood back up.  He forgot about the low ceiling and cursed as he knocked his head against a wooden beam.  Twilight giggled suddenly and he grinned back at her and shook his head.  She was fine.

The random intermittent howls of the scattering changeling horde could be heard in the distance for quite some time after, their forlorn calls echoing through the trees.   A cleanup operation had begun, the community working together to clear the dead changelings into a pile in the corner of their makeshift village.  The dead and injured were being seen to, a solemn affair in general, the marines helping to dig graves.  Riley was sat with his three ponies, facing a semicircle of the chiefs and elders in the village. 

“You brought them here,” the grey stallion from before accused.  He had introduced himself as Falling Dew, and served as their war leader.  “They followed you.  The rest have scattered, but soon they will join other hives, and they know now the scent of our blood and the way of our village.  Because of you, we must leave our home behind for the third time in as many winters.”

“We are very sorry, Mister Dew,” Twilight said sombrely.  She looked tired, and Riley could empathise with the painful headache she had after her magical encounter.  He had one, too.  “We didn’t know.  I thought the changeling horde was destroyed over a year ago.”

“Whatever would have given you that foolish thought, child?” he snapped.  “From where have you travelled?”

“Ponyville,” said Rainbow Dash.  “And you better mind your mouth before I have a mind to close it for you!  We just saved your hides, jerk.”

There were a few gasps from around.  “That place is legend and hallowed ground, child, nopony lives there, nopony knows where it is.  You are liars.  Furthermore, had you not led them to us your assistance would have been wholly unnecessary.”

“Now look here a moment,” Applejack jumped in, standing up angrily.  “Ain’t not one of us a liar, so y’all can take that right back.  We didn’t even know you lot were livin’ here.  An’ who’s t’ say they weren’t already lookin’ fer you anyways?  And I don’t recall even headin’ for this sorry place, we were near enough a mile away when you rudely marched us back here.”

“Please, everypony,” Twilight said wearily, imploring them to be quiet. 

“You profess to follow the teachings of the Great One, yet you defiled one of Her holy fountains by drinking from it!  You are heathen trespassers in our lands, and liars beyond.”

“Oi, watch it, grandpa,” Rainbow shouted, beginning to hover in place, her wings beating fast in agitation.  Twilight pleaded with them again, quiet voice unheard over their growing argument.  Several of the younger ponies were standing now, leaning forwards and glaring daggers at the interlopers, a fight brewing in their eyes. 

“Stop it!” Twilight howled, teleporting herself suddenly into the centre of the group with a bang that reverberated around the clearing and left ears ringing.  The fire flared from the sudden gust of wind that she displaced, sparks swirling high above them, and Riley clamped his hands around his temples once more, grinding his teeth together.  It hurt less and less each time she did it, but that wasn’t saying a whole lot.  

“Stop it, all of you!  I don’t know what’s going on here, but I do know I just faced down a changeling queen, who should have been banished last year, I’d like to add.   And I also know that this forest isn’t supposed to be here.  And Trixie is not a goddess.  You do a terrible, nearly unforgivable, dishonour to the goddesses of the Sun and Moon with this ridiculous notion.”

She stared at the assembled ponies with wild eyes, wings spread wide and her horn positively humming with barely contained magic.  There was something otherworldly about the scene, she no longer looked like the small, cute unicorn he had first met.  It seemed now as though she was glowing from the inside, and an unnatural, thick darkness seemed to creep in from the shadows around them, chased by a soft wind that rustled the leaves in fits and starts.  Riley stared, watching cautiously, this was a whole new side to the playful, excitable Twilight he knew.

“I want to leave here,” she said at length, sagging visibly.  The spectral wind vanished, and the darkness gave way to simple shadows once again.  Riley relaxed a little and gave a gentle shake of his head to the approaching men, several of whom had their weapons back in their hands.  They ceased their approach but did not return to their half dug holes. 

Applejack led the exhausted Twilight away from the fire, taking her aside to the cool shade of the huts.  She was visibly shaken, too. 

“I think, then, we will be taking our leave,” Riley announced brightly, standing up and clapping his hands for attention.  He towered over the assembled ponies, who were still looking a little pale around the faces.  “Come, Rainbow Dash.”

“That was awesome,” the excited pegasus said to him as soon as they were out of earshot of the rest of the group.  “They were all ‘heathen defilers’ and Twilight was like ‘be silent, mortals’!”

“Hush,” he said.  “I don’t think she’ll appreciate your enthusiasm.”

“You guys are pretty cool as well, you know,” she said, punching him lightly on the shoulder as she hovered by his head.  “When you’re not fighting against us, at least.  I’ve never seen so few take on so many and win without a scratch!  And that roll you did under the queen!  Incredible!”

“It’s not something to be proud of, Rainbow Dash.”

He tried to filter her out as she continued jabbering, undeterred.  “When I saw how many of them were coming I thought we’d had it for certain, I mean one changeling alone is…”

“Will they let us leave?” Twilight asked him as he approached.  His heart twitched a little when he saw the damp patches on her cheek coupled with the sadness and exhaustion in her eyes.  He couldn’t remember seeing anyone look so miserable.

“They won’t try to stop us.”
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Excerpts from Research Log
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Excerpts from research log

A preliminary study on Sleipnir Alpha.  Prof. M. Matthews, Prof. J. Hemmingway, Dr. A. Wu, Dr. L. Falkirk.

This report forms the beginning of a series documenting the geology, flora and fauna encountered on the planet provisionally named Sleipnir-α, during the period in which the Jovian 1st Fleet was stranded on its surface while repairs were made to damaged sub-space transit equipment resulting from an unbounded jump while evading Thala warships.

(See report SLP-1-04 for details on the circumstances surrounding the crash.)

Sleipnir is an Earth-like planet, notable for possessing an atmosphere predominantly composed of nitrogen (72.66±0.43%) and oxygen (24.81±0.90%).  See attached materials for a tabulated analysis of exact atmospheric composition around the location of the initial crash site.

The planet is 0.92±0.02 Earth masses and orbits its main-sequence G-class star at a similar distance.  Inclination is pronounced at 11.5±0.8º.  Its rotational period is 101.42±0.032hours.

Sleipnir possesses a single large natural satellite with similar properties to Earth’s moon.  Preliminary scans of its visible surface have highlighted additional points of interest, including the apparent existence of unnatural structures.  (See report SLP-1-08).  It appears likely the body is tidally locked with the planet.  

Unique to this planet is a series of small moonlets that orbit along many different axes.  Their number is estimated to be in the order 10^6.  They appear largely uniform in size and are highly reflective, forming an evenly distributed shell around the planet.  Their origin is unknown, however they present a considerable risk to spacecraft attempting manoeuvres in the vicinity, and are likely responsible for the loss of several more vehicles during entry.    

By far the planet’s most notable feature is its dominant lifeform, a race of sentient quadrupeds that can be further classified into at least three infraspecific taxa.  Colloquially named ‘ponies’ the species is awaiting a formal classification.   This species is the focus of this paper.

…

The creatures possess a skeletal structure very similar to many quadrupeds from Earth.  With the exception of a few additional organs their bodies appear to work in a similar way.  DNA sequencing has posed significant questions and hints very strongly at a shared common ancestry with humankind, at some point.  Notable differences to earth-species include the eyes, which appear exceptionally large for their well-lit habitat, hinting, perhaps, at a darker past in the planet’s history.

Their size varies amongst individuals, but they are comparable to the size of grown human.  The “earth ponies” are generally the heavier breed, with some individuals measured at 125kg.  The other two breeds are of slighter build and average around 55kg, with the winged ponies falling at the lighter end of the distribution.  (Reference tables 05-31, 05-32, 08-1)   

…

Their fur is generally short and densely covers the entire body with very fine fibres.  Their manes and tails are the exception, often forming fibres as long as their bodies.  Of interest is the vivid and wide range of pigments observed in the species.  Darker colours appear less prevalent.   Of further interest is the hair on the face, which has the peculiar ability to darken slightly, speculated to form a similar social function to blushing in humans.  The adult creatures have complex markings on their flanks, these images are a part of the skin itself and vividly affect the colour of the localised hairs.  The highly organised and specific appearance of these marks suggests some advanced form of tattooing performed in their society. 

…

Despite a lack of digits all of the “ponies” are capable of manipulating objects within close range of their feet, without physical contact, with a high degree of accuracy.  The mechanisms involved appear to be similar to the tunnelling-hyperdimensional-polariser technology that we already possess for remote manipulation, and that they have evolved biological equivalents is considered remarkable.  The ability is provided by a specialised sub-dermal organ which is undergoing a more in-depth study at the time of writing.  Samples have also been preserved for study upon return to the core system.

…

The sub-species colloquially referred to as “unicorns”, due to the single bony protrusion from their heads that lends them an appearance reminiscent of early Earth mythology, appears to have a further specialisation of the telekinetic organs found in the feet.  The organ appears tightly coupled with the brain and central nervous system and is by far the most complex structure in the body.  The capabilities of these “unicorns” are surprising, extensive, and currently largely a mystery.  Further study is required.  The observed effects have ranged from long range telekinesis to the production of light and powerful electric fields and even, in one unique individual, bodily teleportation over distances of at least 100m!

…

The “pegasi” possess feathered wings and are capable of extended periods of flight.  The wings appear too small to provide the necessary pneumatic lift, however investigations of the feathers have revealed complex structures on the micro-metre scale within the barbules of the feathers.  Further study is required, but it is believed these structures operate in a similar manner to the telekinetic organs in the creatures’ feet, providing additional lift and stability by exerting a distributed force upon a wide area underneath the individual when in flight.  

…



> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dense woods had petered out eventually, the trees growing gradually thinner and smaller until they found themselves traipsing across a wide, grassy plain.  Scrubby bushes still formed small copses here and there, sheltered from the sharp wind by hollows and rocky outcrops.  They’d been trekking for some hours and were now spread out into a long line.  Twilight Sparkle had caught up with Riley in the column, and was occupying the time with stories.

“It was awful, at the time, but looking back I totally see why everypony thinks it was so funny,” Twilight was saying, a light blush on her cheeks.  “I’d cast this spell to make the bear irresistible, and of all the ponies who could have ended up with it, who should get it but Big Macintosh.  I can’t think of another pony who could have made it seem more inappropriate!”

Riley laughed lightly as she told him tales of her times in Ponyville. She’d certainly started feeling better once they’d left the peculiar village in the trees behind.  She felt a lot happier now, they were on their way to Canterlot, afterall, and maybe making real progress toward sorting this mess out.  The troubles in Ponyville were still very much at the forefront in her mind, but it was possible to supplant them, temporarily at least, with the more pleasant activity of making friends.

She racked her memory for other humorous events she could tell him, making him laugh had become something of a challenge, and she felt like she wanted to cheer him up.  He always looked so morose and serious, and had taken to trailing along at the rear of the group since they had left the village in the woods.  Since the trees had thinned out significantly Rainbow Dash had disappeared up into the sky once more, leaving her with one less friend to talk to, and Applejack seemed occupied with putting one hoof before the other. 

“Ooh!” she exclaimed.  “I should tell you about the Gala, two years ago.  Now that was a barrel of fun, let me tell you…”

“Excuse me,” he said suddenly, giving her an apologetic smile.  “I need to go talk to Matthias, up there at the front.  There’s a… human thing… we have to talk about.”

“Oh,” she said, story interrupted.  “I’ll wait here!” she called after him as he broke into a jog and disappeared up the column to the front where one of the marines was picking his way cautiously through the long grass.  They had already had to pull someone out of a small sinkhole once. 

“Yer actin’ mighty strange again, Twilight,” Applejack said.  She had been behind them the whole time. 

“Am I?” Twilight replied absentmindedly.  “I’m just trying to make friends.”

“Ah’m not so sure he wants t’ be made a friend of, sugarcube,” she said gently.  

Twilight’s face fell.  “Why?  What makes you say that?”

“Everytime you go near him he waits patiently for about five minutes, then gallops off.  Then you follow him, an’ then he does it all over again.”

“Really?” Twilight’s smile drooped as she looked back up the column and saw Riley glance over his shoulder at them, almost nervously.  Sudden realisation hit her like Pinkie’s party cannon.  “Oh dear.  I’m making a fool of myself, aren’t I?”

Applejack smiled in what Twilight imagined was meant to be a comforting manner, but it came across as more of a grimace.  Her cheeks burned hotter. 

They trotted in awkward silence for a few minutes more.  Twilight took the time to contemplate her words carefully, aware that Applejack was waiting for an explanation of some sort.  “I think I feel as if he’s just a tiny bit like I was, before the princess sent me to Ponyville to make friends.  I don’t think he has any friends, Applejack, and I remember what that’s like.  

“At the time you don’t really let it bother you: friends are just an inconvenience, things to get in the way, something other ponies can worry about.  Sure, sometimes you see others together, laughing and being happy, and you feel a bit sad that you don’t have that too, but then you think of all the extra time you’ve got instead.  All the more to study magic, in my case.  And those feelings pass, remarkably quickly, in fact.

“But after I met you all, I realised just how lonely I had been.  It was like I hadn’t been able to see colours all my life, I didn’t know what I was missing at the time, but once I’d seen them, wowee, the whole rainbow!  Not just one little piece anymore.”

Applejack chewed on a long piece of grass thoughtfully before speaking.  “Ah don’t think we can go second guessin’ how many friends he has or hasn’t got, Twi.  That might just be how they look to us, miserable n’ all.  Or, maybe, he has so many friends already, that he doesn’t feel like he can have anymore?”

Twilight snorted at the idea.  “You can’t have too many friends, Applejack.  That’s like saying you can have too much ice-cream.”

“Ah think Spike proved that one true, Twilight,” Applejack reminded her with a grin.  “On several occasions, if ah remember rightly.”

“Well, maybe that was a poor analogy, then,” she admitted, trying to think of a new one.

“Twilight, please don’t treat this like a challenge,” Applejack said sagely.  Twilight opened her mouth to protest, but her friend continued before she could speak.  “Ah know what you’re like, sugarcube.”

Twilight grimaced guiltily.  “I promise.  But you have to admit, this is going to make one splendid Friendship Report for the princess!   Maybe I should start composing it, I can deliver it in person when we get there, since we haven’t found Spike yet.”

The day wore on and they made moderate progress, despite many obstacles.  The landscape was uneven and riddled with small streams and rivers.  A few times they found their route blocked by small hills, and Riley ordered the group to half climb, half scramble up and down steep fields of boulders and crumbling crags.  Applejack seemed to enjoy this activity greatly, hopping nimbly from foothold to foothold as though she had wings.  The humans also seemed very adept at it, their long, powerful limbs giving them the strength and their highly dextrous fingers finding purchase in even the smallest of cracks.  Twilight found herself watching them closely, and her mind wandered until she realised she was contemplating what it would feel like to be given a massage with those strange appendages.  

She shook her head fiercely to clear the thought, it bordered on inappropriate and was making her face feel hot again.  If somepony noticed and asked her why she blushing she would be hard pressed to think of an excuse, she was sure.

While they rested for a few minutes on top of a moderate peak Rainbow Dash burst down from the clouds to tell them excitedly that if she flew really high she could see the Canterhorn in the distance.  It was distant and shrouded in cloud at the moment, but they were on the home run at last.  That brought another welcome boost to Twilight’s spirits, which had become a little gloomy after Applejack had pointed out what was now blindingly obvious.

She had tried to chat to Riley a couple more times since, and while he acted perfectly friendly towards her she now couldn’t help but notice the slight reluctance to really return the conversation.  For instance, she realised she still didn’t know much about his past at all, yet she had, to her growing embarrassment, probably managed to blabber the majority of hers since birth, and then some besides.

Her stomach felt tight, and her emotions seemed to go through a few cycles, the initial awkward embarrassment and shame had faded and given way to confusion, and now she found it was morphing into anger instead.  She simmered inside gently – why was he doing it?  She had done nothing but try to be nice to him, he had no reason to dislike her.  It was unfair.  

Or was she being unfair to him?  After all, he was just trying to do his job, was she distracting him?

“Riley,” she said, making up her mind and trotting over to him purposefully.  He turned to her, a pleasant smile on his face once more, but she couldn’t help but imagine the wheels turning behind those eyes, the grimace that he was undoubtedly hiding.  “Can we talk?”

“Of course, Twilight.  What’s on your mind?” 

“Can we talk, in private?” she said, looking pointedly at the marine marching beside him.  An unreadable look crossed his face. 

“Twilight, none of the men can understand your language.”

“I know,” she said – by the Sun, why was he making this so awkward!  “Please?”

“Whatever pleases you,” he said easily, slowing his pace to let the marine go on ahead.  “Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath, not sure where to start.  This suddenly felt like a mistake, but the train had left and she could hardly stop it now.  She had started down this path, and she meant to continue.   “No.  Please, be honest with me.  I feel like you don’t want me here.  I want to know what I’ve done to… to upset you,” she said, looking at the grass as it whispered past her legs, the longest bits tickling at her belly.  She studied it intently, now afraid to look up.  Her heart felt very large in her chest, too big for the small space as it knocked against her ribs.  The anger had gone full circle back to embarrassment, and she wished dearly that she had kept her mouth shut.  She was definitely overreacting.  Everything was fine, and she was just making herself look even more foolish.

“I don’t understand,” he said after some time.  “I mean, you’ve done nothing wrong.  I’m not upset with you at all.  I’m sorry if you think that.”

She looked up at his face, certain she would see a lie there, but he looked as honest as he could be, even if he was a different species.  He didn’t look at all like Spike did, for instance, after he’d eaten some gems he wasn’t supposed to have until his hatchingday celebrations.  If anything he looked uncertain, and almost hurt.  Had she been wrong?  

Confusion.

“I’m trying to be a friend, but I feel like you seem… annoyed by me.”  There, she’d said it.  She swallowed the hot feeling in her throat and studied the grass once more.  It really was very interesting, if one stopped to study it in detail, each blade so intricate in detail, tiny barbs just visible along the edges, delicate subtle striations shimmering in the sunlight…

There was a long pause again, and when she looked up at him he was looking up and away, gaze far in the distance.  She thought for a moment he was simple going to ignore her.

“I am flattered,” he eventually said with a deep sigh, looking back down at her.  “And I appreciate the effort, I really do.”

“But you just don’t like me?” she said, putting words in his mouth, and feeling wretched for it.  Her chest felt tight again, a throbbing knot around her heart.  And again there was an agonising silence that drew on and on and gave her far too much time to dwell on her own thoughts. 

“I’m trying not to, no,” he said abruptly, rushing his speech clumsily, as if he had been afraid his words wouldn’t have all made it out if he had said them at the normal speed.  Twilight missed a step and stumbled, feeling as though she had actually been kicked in the chest.  “But you’re not making it easy for me,” he continued at a more normal pace, looking down at her with a sad smile on his face.

Twilight turned away from him, feeling her eyes mist up with a prickling sensation.  She’d never known rejection like this, so measured and calm, and delivered so softly.  “I don’t… understand,” she said, trying not to choke on her words.

“Please, Twilight, let it go.  Don’t do this,” he pleaded.  Was that hurt in his voice?  He sounded extremely doubtful, as if he meant one thing but was forcing himself to say another.  Twilight’s addled mind wondered if he was purposefully trying to hurt her, to see how far she could be pushed.  A sharp, simmering anger mingled with the thick heartache, making an unpleasant and volatile cocktail.  He was a scientist of sorts, after all, it stood to reason he would be researching her species, observing her.  That thought only made it worse.

“Don’t do what, exactly?” she snapped, whipping her head back around.  “Why are you like this?  Why are you so… difficult!”

He sighed again, that terrible sad smile that was barely a smile at all, and abruptly she’d suffered as much as she was able.  She ran, tears in her eyes and a terrible, wracking shortness of breath in her lungs.  Part of her wished he would follow her, but then she knew he couldn’t run that fast.  If he called out to her she didn’t hear him.

“Twilight!” came Rainbow Dash’s confused voice from high up, chasing after her. 

“I don’t want to talk,” she said over her shoulder, not stopping for anything.  

“You’re going the wrong way!” 

“I don’t care!”

She ran and ran and ran until her legs burned and she could no longer see the others.  She finally stopped and fell to her knees in the long grass, too tired to cry anymore.  Even the running of the leaves hadn’t seemed so far.  She sat, drowning in misery for what felt like an eternity before Rainbow Dash came down to land nearby, approaching her silently. 

“Do you want me to beat him up a little bit?” she asked at last, and Twilight laughed brightly, the absurdity of the last couple of hours suddenly caught up with her.  She, a well-respected, grown mare, was upset because an alien she had known for a few days didn’t want to be her friend.  And now she was miles away from them, heading in the wrong direction.

Rainbow Dash started laughing as well, and before long they were both on their backs in the long grass, giggling at the shapes in the sky and anything else that came to mind.  She didn’t need anymore friends, she had the best five she could ask for already.  

Buck him, and the rest.

Rainbow eventually led her back to the group, who had stopped for an hour to eat and rest.  Applejack was lying in the grass next to Riley, who looked morose.  Applejack had her angry face on, the one she adopted when Applebloom had been up to something she had explicitly been told not to do. 

Twilight swallowed nervously as they approached, dragging her hooves a little.  Her earlier bravado had evaporated, and now she was feeling terminally embarrassed.   She had let her emotions run away with her and completely overreacted, that much was clear.  It seemed ridiculous now, even to her.  She silently cursed the strange effect the humans seemed to be having on her as she sat down on the other side of the circle and pretended to close her eyes to rest.  A suggestive cough made her open one eye a crack to find Applejack glaring at her.  

‘Get over here,’ the expression seemed to say.  She sighed and reluctantly climbed to her hooves, prowling over to the pair.  She plonked down next to Applejack, away from Riley and snorted through her nose. 

“You two are behavin’ like foals on hearts-and-hooves day.  Work it out.”

“M’m sorry,” Twilight mumbled sullenly.  “I went off on one a bit.  Won’t happen again.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Riley said with a sigh, not looking at her.  “I have been unfair to you.”

Applejack watched them both expectantly, and when no more was forthcoming she dialled her glare back up to eleven.  “That was terrible.  Perhaps y’all don’t want me an’ Rainbow listenin’ in, which is fair enough, so git yerselves over there, and don’t come back ‘til you’re talkin’ again.  If we’ve got to suffer you two sulkin’ and mopin’ at one another for the next week ah don’t think ah can remain civil with either of you.”

She pointed an authoritarian hoof and Twilight’s face fell.  This was the full works, no doubt about that.

“So…” she began as they walked a little way off, alone again.  A gentle breeze stirred the long grasses around their legs, and small insects buzzed about their business.  Riley stopped and knelt down so he was on her level. 

“Twilight, firstly, I don’t dislike you.  You’re… lovely.  There’s no other word for it.”

“I’m glad,” she said, hesitantly.  There was definitely a ‘but’ coming.

“By the next sunrise, I’ll be gone,” he said simply, shrugging.  “I’ll be back among the stars, fighting to keep my own people safe.  I don’t have many friends, none of us do.  Do you know why?”

She stared at him blankly, there were several answers she could offer, but she suspected it was more of a rhetorical question. 

“Because it’s not fair on them when we don’t come back.  We’re soldiers.  Every time we leave home there’s a strong chance we’ll either come back in a box, or not at all.  My life doesn’t form a good basis for a friendship, of any kind.  I don’t want the heartache of having to leave you all here, and I don’t want you to have that, either.  We will never see one another again, Twilight.  I think it would be better if we kept our distance.  Perhaps I should have been more forthcoming with you from the start, so I apologise for that, but to me, this is obvious, I forget sometimes that others don’t see things the same way.”

The wind continued to whisper amongst the grasses, lost and forlorn, and Twilight frowned deeply.  “There’s another saying we have here: ‘It’s better to have loved and lost’…”

“… than never to have loved at all,” he finished with a genuine smile.  “It’s also a saying in my world.”

“Not to say I’m in love, or anything,” she hastened to add, suddenly aware of the heat in her face again.  “You can replace that with ‘better to have had some friends and have lost said friends than to never have had any frien…’”

“This is what I mean, Twilight,” he said softly, interrupting her.  He hesitated, and then she tensed as his hand briefly stroked the side of her face, and traitorous little shivers spread over her skin, her eyes closing of their own accord. “You’re adorable, and I’m struggling very hard to keep my distance from you.”

She basked in the moment, chest suddenly tight once more, but with joy this time.  He took his hand away all too soon, and she opened her eyes again.  

“Do you understand?”

“No,” she said, with a little smitten smile.  “I don’t accept it, at any rate.  It’s a silly reason to reject friendship.  Time is immaterial.  A little bit of honey is always better than none at all.”

He blew air out through his nose and set his lips in a thin line, leaning back from her.  His expression hardened.  “I will hurt you, Twilight, even if I don’t want or mean to.  It’s what we do.  I can’t be your friend.”

She remained unconvinced, her unwavering gaze holding him firmly.  In her heart she could see herself, many years ago, alone without knowing it, lost in a world she didn’t know existed.

“Look, I don’t know what you see in me, I really don’t.  I’m not a nice person, even by my own species’ standard.  I travel the stars with a group of men, killing indiscriminately for a living.  I even accept payment for it.  You deserve better friends than me, Twilight Sparkle.  Better than any of us.  Do you not remember that night when we arrived?  We killed.  In the forest, mere hours ago, we killed again.  We’re very good at it.  We hurt things.”

“You were defending yourselves.  And you were defending me.  You care about us, I know you do.”

He ignored her.  “We couldn’t stay here, even if we wanted to, we would corrupt you, change you for the worse.  You’re lucky that we don’t know where we are, so when we leave we’ll never be able to find you again.  Never be able to bring back the disease we spread from place to place.”

“You can change,” she said, shuffling on her hooves.  “You would change.  We would corrupt you.  For the better, maybe.  

“I understand why you fight so much, you’ve been brought up in a world that’s constantly at war, you’ve been trained from birth to be like this, and it’s all you can do to survive.  But here, you don’t have to do any of that.  You can rest and be at peace.”  She gave him a quick grin, “at least, once we get the current mess sorted out.”

He sighed again and shook his head gently.  Twilight’s rational mind finally gave in and let the ever-growing bit that dealt with friendships take over, and taking advantage of him being on her level for once she stepped forward and wrapped her hooves around his neck, resting her weight on his shoulders and pressing the side of her head to his before he could get away.

He tensed suddenly, and for a moment she thought he was going to stay like that, but then she felt his arms around her back, wriggling under her loosely folded wings, and he squeezed her gently, fingers very gently tickling that sensitive patch under her wings.  “Friends,” she whispered in his ear.  “For as long as you’re here, however short that may be.”

She could feel him shaking his head ever so slightly, and could imagine the resigned look he had on his face.  Twilight suddenly knew that she’d won.  A smug, satisfied smile tugged at her mouth.  

‘Don’t treat this like a challenge,’ Applejack’s voice rang out in her head and she forced the smile back down guiltily.  Rather reluctantly she released the human and sat back on her haunches to watch him. 

“There, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

He laughed out loud, looking genuinely happy for the first time since she had met him.  “I know I’m going to regret this, somehow,” he told her, and she stuck her tongue out at him. 

“I have to write a letter about this!”
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Riley plodded onwards wearily, trying to think about putting one foot in front of the other without stopping.  His navigation device told him just how far they had to go still, and the little numerals indicating their distance so far were depressingly small.  His feet were aching after so long, it felt as if they had been walking for days, which in Earth time they had.  Unfortunately, on this strange alien world the sun was only just passing its peak in the sky.

The fierce heat of the midday sun had at last begun to relent as it began its painfully slow journey downwards.  To help cool them even more thick clouds had poured in from the east, darkening the land and beginning to drop a thin, persistent rain that became steadily heavier and heavier.  After three hours of the unrelenting damp they were all soaked to the skin, despite their supposedly waterproof clothing. 

He shivered and took a sip of lukewarm water from his pack, looking back over his shoulder at the line of men and ponies behind him.  They were traversing a wide plain again, wading waist deep through meadows of damp grass and sweet smelling flowers.  The group had spread out, each lost in their own thoughts and looking thoroughly miserable.  Twilight looked grumpy, the rain had forced her to put away the piece of paper she was scribbling on and she seemed particularly put out by it.  

He huffed through his nose.  After her heartfelt outburst before she had almost immediately run off to write, suddenly seemingly uninterested in him.  He had a strong suspicion that whatever she had been scribbling away at was about him, but whenever he tried to peer over her shoulder she had hidden it away secretively.

“Good to see they’re just as insane on this planet as back home,” he said quietly to the air, mostly to hear himself speak.  It was lonely up at the front, nothing but the hiss of the rain and his own thoughts.  

His head ached slightly from the conflicting thoughts inside.  He could no longer avoid admitting that he didn’t feel some degree of fondness for Twilight, as much as he had tried to avoid it.  She was fascinating and somewhat alluring, and soon he would leave her behind forever.  If all went to plan then it was only another few earth-days until they would be leaving for good, and he consoled himself with the knowledge that he only had to remain strong until then.  

It was difficult, however, to stop thinking of her, especially when she was only twenty paces away and there wasn’t a lot else to do.  He didn’t have a lot of friends, and he couldn’t deny that they had developed some sort of bond, that click that would form with someone new, even when you had hardly said a word to one another.  That spark was there, as strange that it was to encounter it between species.  His mind recalled the admiral’s parting words after the initial official meeting between species, ‘don’t get attached.’

He blinked hard a few times and shook his head fiercely, trying to clear his thoughts, plodding onwards through the grasses and tall weeds.  It was all too easy, when away from the structure of the fleet, to allow the strength of the military mindset to fall apart.  He had to remain strong, that was his duty.

A few times they had spotted herds of some form of cattle in the distance, grazing on the verdant meadows, but they had never got close, the creatures running away before they could get within earshot.  Rainbow Dash had explained to him that they were just cows, and they were really dumb.  The rain had even quietened her, he noted, with a little satisfaction.  She trudged along behind Twilight, head down and wings extended a little to the sides, water running along them like a duck’s back and dripping off the ends of the feathers. 

The miles passed by, and Twilight came to walk beside him once more.  He found himself very glad of her company, even though he knew he was not supposed to be.  The effort of trying not to get attached had been more wearing than he realised, constantly denying himself something his subconscious desired.  It had only been once she forced him to let go and accept things that he had realised just how free he suddenly felt.  There was still a lot resting on his shoulders of course, a lot of lives and responsibility, but at least now there was one less thing.  

He watched her with a sidelong glance, suddenly hit by the enormity of the situation.  This was the first time in human history friendly contact had really been made with another race.  The first two species they encountered had wanted nothing to do with them, both primitive cultures that hadn’t a thing in common.  They had left them well alone.  The third was their enemy.  This, the fourth, was the first species capable of forming any sort of relationship with them.  He felt extremely blessed, but at the same time grew despondent that very soon it would be nothing more than a memory and a bunch of data. 

“Hey, Twilight,” he said suddenly, letting an impulse drive him.  She turned her large, impossibly deep eyes to him.  “Can we… take a picture?  Of the two of us?”

“Of course,” she said, smiling widely at the suggestion.  “Although I can’t say I look my best, right now.  Soaked to the bone and travel weary.”  She shook herself like a big dog, spraying water everywhere, including all over Riley.  “Oops!”

Wiping his face clear he called Sadler, the other engineer, and handed him his communicator then, threatening him in English, said, “if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, I will personally make sure that you’re posted to the Pluto station for the rest of your career.”

The engineer grinned.  “Not a word from me, sir,” he said, clearly enjoying the moment.  Riley crouched down next to Twilight, who had sat on her haunches, smiling sweetly.  His stomach twitched nervously, suddenly aware of everyone watching him.  He moved to put an arm around Twilight’s shoulders, but she evidently thought of the same thing and had unfurled a long wing behind him, and they both ended up somewhat tangled.  To his horror Sadler was already taking photos.

“Hey!” cried Rainbow Dash, plummeting out of the sky behind them.  “Do me!  I make pictures look awesome.”

Shortly after Applejack had galloped over as well, not about to be outdone by the other two.  Before he really had time to react Riley found himself wedged tightly between the three damp ponies, grinning from ear to ear as they pulled all manner of silly faces for the camera. 

“My goodness,” Twilight said afterwards as he flicked through the photos on the small display screen.  “We look so tiny!”

“We can print them out onto something bigger when we get back to camp, if you’d like to keep a copy as a memento,” he said, a little sadly. 

Twilight took his meaning immediately and she laid her head against his shoulder for a moment, a hint of sorrow in her voice when she spoke again.  “I would like that.”

He stood up carefully, dislodging her.  He found himself a little uncomfortable with her so close.  His traitorous body didn’t seem to be entirely under his own control lately, and this was the very definition of getting attached.

“What do you intend to do next?” he asked her, collected and businesslike once more.  It was time to get rid of his distraction.  “Our path takes us west, but I believe you wanted to go east.”

“Don’t you need us?” she asked in surprise, as if she had forgotten about her plan to go to the city all along.  With her soaked fur, drooping ears and big, bright eyes she looked unbearably cute.  He forced himself to concentrate.

“I think we can manage from here, the crash site’s only another eight or nine hours away.  And I would feel bad keeping you from your own goal.”

“If you’re sure,” she said hesitantly, looking over her shoulder wistfully at the towering pinnacle of rock in the distance, the top still shrouded in clouds.  The hint of spires and buildings could be seen here and there through the mist, clustered halfway up.

He nodded, signalling to the others to move out.

“I feel bad, leaving you here,” she said, a frown on her face.  

“We can look after ourselves, Twilight,” he said with a little amusement.  “I think we’ve demonstrated that well enough now.”

“Friends don’t leave each other behind,” she said, pouting.  

“Friends don’t drag each other into gloomy crash sites, either, not when they want to be somewhere else,” he countered.  “I know how much you’ve been looking forward to seeing your Celestia, you’ve talked about her so much now I feel like I practically know her for myself.”

Twilight grinned sheepishly.  “I suppose.  Will you come to Canterlot once you’ve got your thingy?  I think Princess Celestia would be very interested to meet you.”

“We’ll see,” he said.  “If not, I’ll see you back at ground zero.  Ponyville.”

Twilight reluctantly agreed once more, and he was treated to another tight, damp hug, the purple pony who was causing him so much inner turmoil jumping up at him before he could properly react.  He caught her awkwardly, forced to hold her closely or she would have fallen.   

“Keep safe, my friend,” she said softly after an eternity, releasing him and dropping back to all fours.  “There’s still a lot of things that don’t make sense out here, and while I am going to get to the bottom of them, there might be more dangers still.”

“And you.  Give my regards to your friend, and don’t worry about us.  We’ll be back before you know it.”

He watched the three ponies trot off in the direction of the mountain, a wretched sadness in his heart.  It was for the best, though.  Twilight was too much of a distraction, and he knew he couldn’t trust himself fully when she was around.  She had already broken through his defences once.  In the event of another stressful situation he wasn’t so sure he would be able to stop his heart making the decisions, instead of his head. 

He gave one last wave as Twilight turned to look at him and turned away to catch up with the rest of his team, heart heavy, and feeling more than a little guilty.  He hoped very much that they would have an easy time on the remainder of their journey without the protection of the marines and their weapons.  At least Twilight could fly or teleport herself out of danger, and he had seen how quickly Rainbow Dash could move if she needed to.  Applejack was no weakling, either, her powerful kick more than a match for a lot of foes, and handy for getting out of a sticky situation in a hurry too.

He also hoped they had enough sense to know when to just run away.

It was strangely lonely without the colourful ponies with them.  The marines were uncommunicative at the best of times, and Sadler the engineer was annoying him with his childish and highly unprofessional teasing.  At least the rain had started to slacken off, although the long grasses and shrubs held a lot of surface water and continued to soak through their boots from below with each step.

His navigation device was indicating that they were close, although they were also running behind schedule by at least a full Earth day.  The attacks in the woods and generally difficult terrain had slowed their progress considerably and they had overestimated how quickly they would be able to move with so much equipment.  In particular, he had overestimated how quickly he would be able to move.  Riley was fairly confident by now that he was the slowest member of their group, although of course nobody would accuse him of it.  Even skinny Sadler seemed to have more stamina.

At last the clouds overhead began to thin, occasional breaks letting the bright ‘midday’ sun through.  Its rays were warm and went some way toward helping the soggy group dry out, although Riley’s boots still squelched with each weary step forwards.  

They were climbing steadily by now, picking their way up a rocky slope.  Spindly pine trees were scattered all around them and small streams trickled between rocky gullies here and there, fast flowing and swollen by the recent rain.  Dappled light flickered through the trees, forming intricate patterns of light and shadow across everything.  The world smelled fresh and sharp, aromatic plants all around.

The trees started to close in around them and the incline steepened, the air growing closer.  Riley wished he were back at the camp.  It was dry and warm there.  

“Sir,” one of the marines said quietly, pointing ahead.  Riley sighted along his outstretched arm, optics working to detect whatever it was the man’s keen eyesight had picked out.  “Halfway up the trunk, sir.”

Riley squinted, unable to see anything.  Was the soldier mistaken?  During the last twenty minutes or so the forest had drawn very close.  It was only natural for memories of the horrors they had faced in the woods outside of the town to resurface, and set everyone on edge.  It didn’t necessarily mean…

Movement!

He tensed, eyes straining to catch whatever it was.  “Just a bird,” he said through clenched teeth. 

“Can’t see no birds, sir,” the marine said slowly, his voice low and foreboding.  Riley swallowed, not taking his eyes off the spot. 

He lost track of how long they stood staring at the same tree, the other six stealthily creeping closer and closer until they were arranged in a tight group, all spooked by the silence and unseen or imagined enemy.  The rustle of something directly above them had all but a couple turning suddenly to look.  Riley was glad he hadn’t un-holstered his weapon, or he felt sure he would have shot at the noise. 

A large squirrel of some kind scurried along a branch, leaping expertly from its swaying tip into a neighbouring tree.  Ridley relaxed, a ridiculous urge to laugh bubbling up from deep inside.  The moment quickly passed, however.  Whatever he had seen, that shimmering, indistinct shape, that had not been a squirrel, and it spelled bad news for them, he was sure.

The group forged forwards into the ever thickening trees, still climbing upwards.  From a distance the hill had looked small, particularly compared to the towering mountain range that stretched up behind, sharp peaks clawing at the sky above.  Now they were on the face of it, however, it was much harder going.  Riley didn’t have a whole lot of experience with long hikes, his life had mostly involved the insides of laboratories, factories and space-craft.  Most of the exercise he did was on repetitive machines during the long transits, not this uneven, treacherous ground.

The team was keeping extremely alert.  The sun had set low enough that its rays did not penetrate to the ground any longer, the tall pine trees making sure of that.  The forest floor was sinking into gloom, the shadows growing big enough to swallow all manner of terrifying imagined monsters.  

Riley was not enjoying the deeply unfamiliar sensation of true fear.  Humankind had already found the monsters from space, they were warlike and very dangerous, but they weren’t really scary anymore.  One didn’t have to fear them on a misunderstood primeval level, merely on a logical level.  Having grown up with the constant threat of attack from an insect-like race of space-aliens had stopped him really being afraid of anything worse.  There was nothing scary about monsters.

The ones on this cursed planet were another matter entirely. For a start, they didn’t make sense, which meant all preconceptions of what to expect were entirely thrown out.  Anything could come at them, with any mode of attack. 

They were torn between making fast progress or careful observation.  So far military training was winning and the marines were keeping calm and steady, three at a time moving forward while the other three kept a vigilant watch all around.  Riley and Sadler were keeping as close to them as possible, eyes aching from the strain of trying to watch everything at once.  

He was, he admitted, actually pleased that Twilight and the other two weren’t with them any longer.  Twilight had built an image of him, and the humans in general, as being fearless, brave and strong, unfazed by even the worst horrors her planet could spawn.  Part of him was secretly bathing in the mild adoration and didn’t want to dispel the vision, to show weakness in front of them.  In front of her.

At the same time, he longed very much for their presence.  The growing fascination with the lavender unicorn he had been trying so hard to avoid would have been an excellent distraction, and who knows, maybe she would have simply told him they were fairy-tree-sprites or something, and were completely harmless.  Then they could avoid all this.

“Arg!” he nearly yelled, stifling his shout at the last moment into a muffled grunt.  A gnarled, leafless branch had pulled at his hair, scraping along his scalp and startling him.  The limb swayed back and forth in a smug sort of way and he glared at it. 

“Riley, perhaps we should call a rest,” came Sadler’s nervous voice from behind him.  The man had become a lot more tolerable once the fear had stopped him from behaving like an irritating schoolchild.  As much as he didn’t want to agree with the other engineer Riley had to admit that it had been a while since they had stopped moving, and the need for constant vigilance was extremely wearing.  

He called the marines back and they sat in a tight outward facing circle, munching on nutrition bars and sipping their water, rifles across their laps and armed.  Riley fancied he spotted one of the older soldiers sipping from something a bit stronger, but he couldn’t find the will to fault him.   All around the forest was quiet, the gentle patter of leaves and twigs occasionally falling and the creaking of wood against wood as the very slight breeze moved the tall trees.  Every now and again there’d come a light scuffling sound as a small rodent or other forest animal went about its business.  The air was still and oppressive.  Nobody dared speak, for fear of disturbing the eerie calm. 

Riley fancied he could hear his own heartbeat, it was certainly very loud.  Spots of light and dark pulsated around the periphery of his vision if he focused on one place too long, and he willed his body to slow down and calm itself.  The feeling of something waiting was unbearable, a tension that manifested itself as a taste in his mouth. 

For something to do he checked his device, horrified to see they had been moving the wrong way.  He fumbled with the controls, beginning to panic, how had it happened?  He had checked it only half a mile back, he was sure.  His mouth felt dry.  No matter, we’ll just head back.

“Gotta take a leak,” one of the marines announced, breaking the silence.  

Whatever spell Riley had felt himself falling under was suddenly broken, and he looked up, nodding.  The marine disappeared behind a tree, and Riley hazily remembered horror stories he had read or watched movies of.  The group would slowly dwindle, one by one, picked off when they were separated.  Nobody should go anywhere alone, that was the message.

He was about to call the marine back when the man shuffled back into view, un-eaten or dismembered, and Riley let out the breath he had taken to yell, turning it instead into a deep sigh.  He had never felt so on edge, so tense. 

“Come on,” he said shakily, checking their heading again.  “We need to keep moving, if we can find the ship perhaps we can shelter there.  There’s a long night coming.”

“Hey!” came a voice through the forest, clear and loud, and speaking common English.  Everyone looked to the sound, searching the gloom for whoever was out there.  “Hey!  Over here!”

“Survivors!” Riley cried excitedly, standing up.  “Where are you?”

“Over here!” came the reply, and suddenly a light was shining, dim but visible through the trees.  “Hey!”

Riley headed for the light, his team following closely.  

“Millie?” one of the marines, Reynolds, said, his gun drooping as he squinted forwards.  “That you, babe?”

Riley still couldn’t see anything and he tried to follow the man’s gaze.  “Who is it?”

“It’s my wife,” he replied in a matter-of-fact way, as if she was often to be found wandering forests on alien planets.   Riley tried to recall if she was in service and had been on the downed ship.  “Millie, wait!”

“Reynolds, there’s nobody there,” Riley said as the light faded.  It reappeared a short way off and before he knew it Reynolds was running after it.  “Stop!”

He took off after the man but in the gloom something caught his foot and he began to fall, rolling onto his side as he had been taught and coming back up on the other side.  Reynolds was sprinting like a man running for his life, far off in the trees already.  The light was moving fast, too, skipping through the forest and stirring up the fallen needles as it went.  

The others were cautiously starting after him, but they were too slow and they soon lost sight of the man.  

“Reynolds, do you copy,” Riley snapped into the radio sewn into his collar as they charged forwards.  “Reynolds, come in immediately.”

There came no reply, and the dim, yellow light was no longer visible, only the darkness all around.  

“Shit,” Riley swore, spinning around to check the positions of the other men.  They were soon close to him, panting to recover their breath.  One was missing.  “Where’s Sadler?”

The marines looked around blankly, clearly just as spooked as he was.  Riley called the engineer’s name over and over, but there was no reply, only the lonely hiss of background noise picked up by the antenna.  From above them came a crackle of branches and a shower of needles rained down on them.  All five marines pointed their rifles up into the tree in an instant, but there was nothing there, the pencil-thin beams of light from the barrel-mounted torches skipping around wildly.  

Another rustle from a nearby tree, then silence. 

“This is fucked up, sir,” one of the men said nervously, swinging his light around in a wide arc, illuminating only a tiny part of the forest at any one time.  

“Focus,” Riley said sharply.  “We keep together.  We move slowly, nobody gets separated, clear?  Do not leave the group, not for anything, not even if you see your dying mother on the ground.”

“Yessir,” the man said, gripping his weapon tighter, his eyes darting from place to place like a trapped animal’s. 

They shuffled forwards, Riley following the pointer on his navigation device with single-minded focus, the soldiers scanning their lights wildly all around them.  Riley was dimly aware he should be doing something more, taking control of them somehow, instilling obedience and military calm, but it was all he could do to avoid soiling himself at that moment.

The man facing behind them suddenly let out a blood curdling scream and the sound of gunfire dropped them all to their knees, lights wavering wildly as they tried to see their enemy.  The solider was firing on full automatic, not letting up.  The strobing light from the barrel of his gun blinded them all and threw the world around them into something like a stop-motion movie.  Shadows flickered around them, darting between trees, barely seen, mostly imagined.

His clip empty the solider threw the gun to the ground and began fumbling around with his belt.  Everyone was shouting, Riley included.  With a clink a small metal canister disappeared into the darkness, and immediately came bouncing back at them, landing in the needles beside their feet. 

“Grenade!” screamed one of the men and five of them dived out of the way as an explosion blew splintered wood and earth at their backs, stinging their skin.  

Riley’s ears were ringing, a high pitched sound that left everything else sounding thin and insubstantial.  His head swam, and he was vaguely aware of disorientated shouting. 

“Regroup! To me, to me,” he yelled, his voice strange in his own ears.  Nobody came, and he kept shouting, stumbling around half blind in the darkness until he tripped over something and fell into the dirt.  

“Sir!” came a call through the dark and he looked up, spotting three wavering torchbeams.  

“Over here,” he called weakly, sobbing in fear.   Strong arms pulled him upright.  

“Sir, we’ve lost McKenzie.  Brundle’s dead, fell on his own grenade.”

Up above them there came a violent rustling again, and Riley bit back a whimper.  This time there came a sibilant hiss as well, and Riley slowly looked up, afraid of what he would see.  Two dim white flashes looked back at him, set in a pale, gaunt face, not more than a yard from him, hanging from the tree.  Immediately it was gone, another rustle of leaves marking its passing.  It was so quick, and so dark, he could easily have imagined it, but he knew in his soul that he hadn’t.

“I saw it,” he whispered, shaking all over.  “It’s hunting us.”

“Sir, we can’t stay here.  Move.”  When Riley stayed rooted to the spot the marine pushed him hard in the chest and yelled to go.  He snapped out of it, flicking his wrist to activate the navigation marker again and running as fast as he had ever tried to run in his life.  Behind him the three remaining soldiers thundered after him, guns over their shoulders as they powered forward, not stopping to look back or to do anything other than put one foot in front of the other.

Riley had no idea how long they had run like that, and it was an incredible thing that they managed it in the dark without falling.  Instead thin branches tore at their clothes and scratched their faces and arms, almost like a thousand tiny arms trying to hold them back. 

They found the crash site eventually, bursting out into a clearing made of smashed trees with the blood pounding in their temples and breath coming in ragged gasps.  There was evidence of fires, set alight by the hot engines of the crashed ship.  Through the trees he could see another trail parallel to it, slightly less burnt but just as flattened.   The second ship, sent out to rescue the first.

The site appeared deserted, makeshift tables and crates set out around the ruined ship, a gaping hole torn in its side where the entire spaceframe had torn in two upon impact.  To Riley’s intense relief there were several floodlights on poles spread around the area, still alight and producing an inviting pool of light amongst the sea of darkness.  Off to one side of the site there was a line of graves, freshly dug but not filled.  He dared to go closer, wondering why they bothered if they weren’t going to use them.  No doubt these were for the men who died in the initial crash.  

As he drew closer he realised that they weren’t freshly dug.  They had been filled, and something had dug them up again and taken the bodies out.  Scuffed trails were visible in the leaves and dirt on the ground – they had been dragged away into the treeline.  He shuddered, suddenly feeling very sick.  With a thumping heart and sweat on his face despite the cool air, he rushed back the perceived safety of the light.  

Two of the marines were standing guard outside, the third had entered the tear in the once mighty ship.  The two guarding the outside looked much calmer now, alert and focused on the dark treeline.  

“Ship’s clear,” Cronenberg said, stepping out of the crack.  “Cockpit’s intact and defendable.”

“We take it in turns to rest,” Riley said.  “One asleep, three awake.  Grenades and other explosives to be stored in the ship.”

“Sir,” they nodded.  

“I think whatever’s out there gets in our heads,” he said, words spilling out of his mouth in a desperate jumble to bring some normalcy back to the world.  “Makes us see things, makes us panic.  If we keep our wits about us, we’ll be fine.  I’m sure I saw it, and it’s not very big.  I bet it can’t fight, so it separates us, makes us vulnerable.  Don’t give it that chance, and we can beat this thing.”

“Are we stayin’ ‘ere until daylight, sir?” Davis grunted.  “Cos I sure ain’t goin’ back in them trees until the fuckin’ sun’s up.”

“We’ll miss our launch window if we don’t get back tonight,” Riley reminded him.

“I ain’t goin’ in there.”

“Can it, Davis,” Cronenberg snapped.  “Commander orders it, you do it.”

“Commander doesn’t have a fuckin’ clue.”

Cronenberg pushed his shoulder angrily.  “They court marshal you for that, boy.”

“Alright,” Riley snapped, suddenly afraid of a new threat.  “He’s right, this is a defendable position, we hole up here for the next forty-eight hours, just hold out until daylight.  We’re no use to the rest of the fleet if we die.  Better take our time and get the core back than not at all.”

“Didn’t help the last crew,” said the third marine, Walas.  He was crouched on the ground, almost calmly picking through the debris scattered about.  “They’re gone.  Lured or scared or tricked away.”

“We stay strong in the mind, and we’ll be fine.”

“I don’t see a better option,” Walas admitted after a moment’s pause. 

“Okay then.  I’m going to get the core, then we begin taking shifts asleep.  And for god’s sake keep guard while I’m in there.”

Riley flicked his torch on and entered the gloomy interior of the ship, working his way down to the compartments above the main engines that housed the sophisticated warp technology.  Somewhere in there was a working drive core, an intricate three dimensional matrix of minute superconducting elements that formed a quantum computer capable of evaluating the necessary data to power the jump through higher dimensions. 

The ship was completely dead and none of the powered doors worked so his progress was slow as he had to disassemble parts just to manually wind the motors.  When he finally made it to the compartment he found it tilted at the worst possible angle for working in, and the process of stripping apart the machinery with his limited field tools was painstaking. 

When at last he did retrieve the metal cube that contained the clever little computer he was amazed at how small it was.  It had been years since he’d had cause to hold one, and in his mind it had been bigger.  That wasn’t to say it didn’t feel heavy, composed largely of the heavier elements it weighed significantly more than it looked like it should. 

He packaged it in a suitable box, padding it with a spare sweater he took from the ship’s deserted sleeping quarters, and stowed it away safely in his rucksack.  He swore not to take the pack off until they were safely back in Ponyville, it would be terrible if after all this he lost it. 

The marines had spread the lamps out around the site more evenly, angling them outwards into the trees so that they would provide a better visible area.  They’d also got some auxiliary power module up and running in the cockpit and some of the exterior cameras were functioning, giving them a good view of the rear of the spacecraft.

Holed up in the cockpit they were able to relax a little.  The door was a heavy one, the entire front of this particular craft was designed to detach from the main body to form a smaller vessel that could be used as an emergency vehicle should the main craft become too damaged to fly.  At first it had been a mystery as to why the crew hadn’t tried to return using it, but after inspecting the ship’s computers Riley had discovered its power unit had failed, and when he went to see why it became clear it was missing entirely, a gaping hole in the hull where it should have been, blackened around the edges.

They flipped a coin to determine who took the first sleep, and Riley came out lucky.  He turned the backpack around onto his chest and lay in the captain’s chair, relaxing back into the soft fabric.  Sculpted as it was to support a human during high-G entries it wasn’t the most comfortable bed, but after more than twenty-four hours without sleep he couldn’t care less. 

He was woken by a scratching, banging sound that came from all around and he came to slowly, convinced he was back in college and late for something or other.  The recollection of where he was, and what had happened, came rushing back in a horrible flood of memory and his eyes snapped open.  

Outside it was dark, much darker than it had been before.  The lamps arranged around the downed spacecraft were still burning bright, their battery packs good for weeks on a charge, and the light from them was reflected on the ceiling of the cockpit, casting the endless panels of controls and buttons into sharp relief. 

The banging was intermittent, occasional scrapes coming between them.  He looked around nervously, the three marines were still awake, although the tiredness in their eyes was obvious.  All three were watching a small monitor intently and he rolled sideways out of the chair with a stiff groan to see what they were looking at.

His breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of the scene outside. 
	
> Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight was grumpy, and she was perfectly willing to admit it.  They’d been walking for days, or they should have been if the sun would go up and down at its proper pace.  Instead they were barely at the end of the first day, the sun still shimmering in the sky close to the ground, lingering for an eternity like it was reluctant to finally set.

“You’re going to get a stern talking to when Celestia’s back, mister,” she muttered under her breath, glaring at it through narrowed eyes. 

Rainbow Dash was hovering nearby and heard her, moving closer.  “What?”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she grouched.  “I was talking to the sun.”

Rainbow backed off a few wingbeats.  “O…kay…   Hey, when are we gonna have a rest?  I’ve been flying forever.”

“When we get somewhere with trees and shelter,” Twilight told her.  “There’s likely more rain coming, and I’m not sleeping here in the open.”

“I don’t see much shelter around these parts, Twi,” Applejack told her with a theatrical swing of her head.  She was right, they had been picking their way across a wide plain that would continue until the base of the Canterhorn, completely devoid of trees, shrubs or even interesting (and maybe tasty) flowers.

The ground beneath their hooves was soft and loamy, very nearly deserving of the term ‘bog’, and none of them had any wish to have to curl up on a tuft of grass to sleep.  Every thirty paces or so somepony’s hoof would splash into a hidden pool or puddle and have to be pulled free with a sickening, wet slurp.  Even Pinkie Pie couldn’t make those sorts of noises, not even with Sugarcube Corner’s most spectacular smoothies.   

There were a few rocky outcrops here and there, poking up through the mush like stubby teeth, one day hoping to grow as tall as their nearby cousin, and maybe even grow a city on their side to boot.  They didn’t look very comfortable, but Twilight was beginning to resign herself to the fact that they would have to make do.  At least they would help keep the wind off.  A stiff breeze was picking up, ruffling her feathers and blowing her fringe into her eyes if she faced the wrong way.

“Ugh,” said Rainbow Dash fidgeting atop the highest point on the outcrop they had chosen.  “Remind me why we left Ponyville?”

“To go fetch help,” Applejack told her in a muffled tone that indicated that she was done with talking and wanted little more than to sleep, face hidden under her hat.  “There’s nothin’ wrong with sleepin’ on the ground.  Perfectly natural.  It’s easy as pie, if you’ve not been spoiled all ya life with clouds for a bed, that is.”

Rainbow narrowed her eyes, anything Applejack could do, she could do as well, usually better.  If a sleep-off was the challenge, then so be it.  She flung herself onto her back and squeezed her eyes shut resolutely.  May the laziest mare win.

“Ugh!” she exclaimed not three minutes later, and Twilight fancied she could see Applejack’s hat grinning in the half-light.  “I’m not tired now we’ve stopped!”

“Good, you can take first watch, then,” Twilight said smugly, pulling her blanket around herself, despite the slight dampness that had sneaked into it through her saddlebags.

“What am I watching for?” Rainbow exclaimed, suddenly sitting upright, eyes wide.  “You didn’t tell me there was anything to watch out for!”

“Scared, Rainbow Dash?” mumbled Applejack’s hat.  

“Of course not!” the pegasus blustered in reply.  “I just feel… under-informed.   ‘Course I’ll take first watch.  Nothing sneaks up on Rainbow Dash.”

“Don’t fall asleep,” warned Twilight, finally finding a bit of rock that cradled her head rather than poked it.  “If the changelings are back then who knows what else Discord has freed from Tartarus.  Imps, basilisks, demons, and their frightful masters could all be stalking this very plain in the darkness, waiting for us to fall asleep so they can whisk us away back to the underworld!”

Rainbow Dash squeaked and Twilight giggled like a filly.  If she was scared at least she would be less inclined to shirk her duties.  As for herself, sleep couldn’t come soon enough, and she soon dropped off despite the damp, cold and firmer-than-usual bedding, her dreams full of mysterious humans and space-ships.  

“Twilight!” hissed Applejack, shaking her urgently.  “Wake up!”

She opened her eyes, blinking.  It was dark now, properly so, and the stars had come out overhead, twinkling and strange.  They were so random, little structure or shape to them anymore.  A few vague constellations were visible, but nothing as bright and clear as she was used to seeing.  

“What’s the matter?” she asked sleepily.  “Is it my turn to watch?”

“Too late for that,” Applejack said nervously.  Twilight blinked at her in the gloom.  The moon was up, casting some light on them both.  Up above somewhere she could hear Rainbow Dash’s snores.  

Applejack’s voice was low and nervous.  “There’s trees.”

Twilight rolled to her hooves, untangling herself from the damp blanket.  It hadn’t dried much, but it had at least been nice and warm once her body heat had soaked in.  She shivered a little in the cool night air and cautiously she peered over the edge of the large boulder, looking out into the darkness.  A mist had settled low on the ground like a thick blanket, glowing white in the moonlight.  

“But, they weren’t there last night,” she said in bewilderment.  Many trees surrounded the rock they were on, receding beyond her limited vision, a perfect little wood amongst the otherwise empty plain, poking up through the white fog.

A little alarmed she lit a bright light on the tip of her horn and pointed it around like a searchlight.  The trees were in a neat ring, about sixty paces thick, pressed up against the rocks and rustling quietly, some might even say ominously, considering the lack of wind.  Many of them were gnarled little things, stunted like those found on windswept hills, although still much taller than a pony.  

“Were they there last night?” she asked, somewhat unnecessarily.  

“They sure weren’t,” Applejack said with a gulp.  “I’m about ready to admit it, Twilight, I’m getting’ mighty spooked about all this weird stuff that’s been goin’ on lately.  For instance, where is everypony?  We’ve not seen sight nor sound of another friendly face since we left home, exceptin’ that down right peculiar lot in that down right peculiar forest.  And all the animals are skittish, hardly seen head nor tail of anything, and not a single pegasus in the sky.”

“I don’t know,” she said, dimming her light and looking back hopefully at Canterlot.  In the dark she expected it to glimmer and glow with ten thousand tiny magical lights and cheery lanterns.  Even during Luna’s night there should have been ponies flying overhead and even the occasional train winding its way up around the mountain, trailing steam.  Instead there was nothing, just blackness and a terrible sense of abandonment.  

“I’m afraid we’re wasting our time, I don’t think the princesses are there.  I’m not sure anypony is there.”

“D’ya want to try an’ find the hu-mans, instead?” Applejack asked.  “Ah reckon we could catch them up somehow, although ah don’t know how long that lazy pegasus up there has been asleep on the job.  Don’t feel like more’n a few hours since ah dropped off, though.”

Twilight looked wistfully out to the east, imagining their new friends plodding on in that quiet, resolute way that they did.  It would be nice to see them again, she admitted.  She had felt safer with them around, somehow, if a little mixed up emotionally.  

They were violent and their motives still remained a little bit of an unknown, but they were very strong and excellent fighters, exactly the sort of ponies… people… that Equestria needed right now.  They had demonstrated loyalty, as well: when the changeling queen had knocked her out the humans had immediately defended her, placing themselves in harm’s way to keep her safe.  That had to count for something. 

“I don’t know if we’d be able to find them again, especially in the dark.  No, I think we should stick our goal, get to Canterlot, see what we can find.  The princesses have got to be somewhere.  They have to be.”

They woke Rainbow Dash, and the blue pegasus had the decency to look deeply ashamed, especially when they pointed out the creepy wood that had snuck up on them.  “I guess I was tired, after all,” she said sheepishly.  “But it’s only a few trees, how bad can it be?  Also, maybe we just didn’t notice it?  We were pretty tired, after all.  Doesn’t mean it has to be a magic wood.”

“That wood was not there when we arrived,” Twilight said firmly.  “It’s not natural, either, and after all we’ve seen these last few days I don’t trust it, not one little bit.”

“We could fly over it,” Rainbow said, spreading her wings and hovering in place.  

“It may have escaped your notice, sugarcube, but ah ain’t got wings.”

“Twilight could teleport you, I bet.”

“I’m about done with that blasted spell,” she complained.  “It’s all I’ve done lately.  It’s starting to make my horn hurt.”

“Well, then, I bet I can carry you,” she said boastfully.  “Even as heavy as you are.”

“Why you little,” Applejack started, taking a step forward.

“Stop it!”  Twilight growled, before they could get into another of their infamous bickering sessions. 

“Rainbow’s right, they are only trees.  What’s the worst that can happen?  Ah’ll just walk through them.”

“Or maybe you’re afraid of heights, huh?” Rainbow said with a smirk.  Twilight shushed her angrily.  

“I don’t like it,” she said, chewing her lip.  “There’s probably things in there, waiting to eat us.”

“They’re trees, Twi.”

“Pony-eating trees!”

“This is silly, guys,” Rainbow announced, rising up and swooping down towards the treetops.  “I’ll just check them out from the air.”

Twilight called out to stop her, but she never listened.  She was skimming the tops of them, her wingtips almost brushing through the leaves themselves.  Abruptly there was a flurry of activity and a smothered yelp, and Rainbow Dash was gone into the shimmering mist that billowed up around. 

Applejack and Twilight both gasped and began calling her name frantically.  The glow from Twilight’s spell intensified, bathing the trees in magical light.  The tops of a few were thrashing around and they could hear the clear sound of a struggle. 

“Come on!” Applejack called, bounding down the side of the rocky outcrop, slipping amongst the lose rocks and earth. 

“Applejack, wait!” Twilight called forlornly, afraid of following.  She stood rooted to the spot for a couple of heartbeats before making a decision and following, she wasn’t about to lose both of them in the dark.  

Something slapped out at her as she half fell, half slid down the uneven surface, scratching herself in the process.  She cried out in alarm, dodging as another vine-like thing snapped out across her path.  Something sticky and sweet-smelling dripped onto her face, thick and viscous.  

“Applejack!” she called out, already having lost sight of her friend.  Something wrapped around her hindleg and she instinctively kicked out, only helping to tangle herself further in the sticky fibres.   “Help!”

“Ah’m coming, Twi!” came the reply as she was pulled up off the marshy ground, hanging from a leg.  More tendrils were reaching out, searching for her like eye-less snakes.  She was having a lot of difficulty maintaining her concentration and the light from her horn wavered, fading dramatically.  

Something had grabbed one of her forelegs and was pulling her in the other direction now, stretching her uncomfortably.  Something else sticky was trailing across her face and she bit at it savagely, chewing through it with a crunch that left a painfully bitter taste on her tongue.  The third tendril vanished back into the gloom, but before long another three were snaking about underneath, reaching up from the ground. 

Suddenly Applejack was there, and her heart soared at the sight of the athletic farmpony kicking and bucking at anything that got near her.  She turned nimbly on her hooves and slammed her hindlegs into the base of the tree that held Twilight, sending a groaning shudder up through its branches and felt through the vines that held her. 

She kicked again, and one of them loosened enough for her to wriggle free, falling until she was only held by the other, swinging wildly like a foal on a swing.  “It’s working!” she called gleefully, trying to keep her light steady.   Applejack was frantically dodging branches and roots that swiped and snapped at her, very nearly removing her beloved hat.  With another few mighty kicks she had persuaded the second tree to relinquish its hold on Twilight, and she fell to the floor in an ungainly manner, wings instinctively opening to catch her but a little too late. 

She leapt to her hooves as a branch came whistling down, impacting the ground with a crash that would have been very unpleasant had she still been underneath.  Another swipe and another dodge, then another, all the time trying to stay one step ahead.  Applejack was dancing just as much, searching for some sort of a target in the gloom. 

They were both covered in sticky sap, leaves and small twigs adhering to them as well.  Twilight had got some in her eye, and it stung badly, partially sticking the eyelid closed.  

“Fire, we need fire!” Applejack was shouting between breaths.  “Trees hate fire!”

Twilight briefly let the light waver as she tried hard to concentrate in the midst of a very stressful situation.  In front of her a tiny flame burst into being, hovering in the air and sustained solely by her magical energy.  She directed it towards a waving branch and the limb drew back with a scratchy hiss of bark on bark.  

“We need something to light, I can’t keep this alive forever,” she said through gritted teeth.  The cold and damp was making it difficult to maintain any sort of heat and she could feel her concentration ailing already. 

Applejack was still busy dodging things, but she gave the nearest trunk a savage kick and some of the attacks were dropped for a moment, long enough for her to grab a fallen branch from the ground.  It appeared to be very dead, and quite dry remarkably.  Twilight leapt nimbly as another branch swept under her, very low to the ground, trying to trip her.  

She was a fraction of a heartbeat too slow and the branch knocked her balance from under her, sending her to the ground.  She finally lost her concentration and the precious little ball of flame was thrown through the air.  Applejack was quick, however, and jumped at just the right moment, intercepting it with the bushy, dry end of the fallen branch.  

The flame vanished, the energy absorbed into the wood, but it was just enough as a few of the dry old leaves began to crackle and curl, quickly catching and transferring to the twigs, and from there the entire thing was alight, with Applejack waving it around frantically in her mouth as the flames threatened to get closer. 

Twilight saw her chance and grabbed it in her magic, holding it safely away in front of them.  It seemed to have the required effect and the murderous trees drew back from the bright fire and fell relatively silent.  

Applejack was busy collecting up more fallen branches, kicking the trees savagely to dislodge more and to discourage any further attempts to entangle them.  The creepy wood was groaning around them, a loud, angry sound, and Twilight waved the burning branches around threateningly.  

“Give us back our friend!” she screamed into the woods.  There was no reply amongst the noise, and the pair pushed forwards for where they thought Rainbow had fallen.  They looked up for the first time, the light from the fire illuminating the branches high above them.  

Twilight immediately wished she hadn’t and gulped in fear, in the upper boughs were the unmistakable shapes of bones, some bleached white with age, some mossy and green, some big and some small.  There were some skeletons that were recognisable as ponies, and she wanted very much to look away, but they had to keep a lookout for their friend before she herself became just another vague shape in the branches.

“They must trap their victims and wait for them to rot down,” Applejack was saying in horror, looking up at the partially decomposed corpse of some large animal, disgust on her face.  Twilight shuddered, feeling as though she was going to be sick.  She channelled the feeling into her horn instead, and the flames flared brighter. 

Up above them in the branches another small fire appeared to have broken out, flaring fitfully amongst the twisted, shaking branches.  There was something strange about it, however, the flames seemed unwilling to spread any further and yet burned almost white hot.  Twilight stared, squinting to try and make out details.

“Applejack,” she called, “there’s something up there.”

“Ah know, and ah’m tryin’ not to look at it!”

“No, something else,” she said.  “I think… I think it might be a phoenix!”

“A what, now?”  Applejack kicked another trunk, her hooves smashing a questing vine into the wood, crippling it. 

“A phoenix!  They’re immortal, it could have been trapped up there for years.  How terrible!  We should help it.”

Applejack squinted up at it, glowing in the branches.  “How?”

“Pretend it’s an apple?”

“Ah don’t think it’s much like an apple, darlin’,” she said doubtfully.  They were getting adept at dodging the attacks now, the trees seemed less inclined to try, either, with Twilight waving the burning branches around.  Ahead of them the gnarled trunks seemed to have formed a corridor, welcoming darkness at the end, as if they just wanted the ponies to leave. 

Applejack bucked the tree holding the phoenix hard, but other than a panicked squawk from the trapped bird not a lot happened.  She tried again and again, but in the end she was right, it wasn’t much like an apple, and certainly didn’t detach as easily as one. 

“Yer gonna have to fly up there,” she said, “if you want to get it down.”

Twilight felt apprehensive, flying with fire, with carnivorous trees trying to catch them, and on wings she still hadn’t learned to use.  “Rats,” she said, and reluctantly took to the air, trying hard to balance the different tasks and avoid burning herself.  The trees moaned and thrashed about as she threatened the higher branches, and the bundle of leaves and phoenix even more so.   Eventually it was free, and shot off like a rocket, its light flittering around the trunks as it flew frantically and its piercing cries echoing in the dark.  

Twilight gratefully returned to the forest floor where Applejack was largely without fire and furiously kicking at anything that came near.  The phoenix appeared to have calmed down and came fluttering carefully back through the trees, swerving and dodging as they sought to recapture it.

“Philomena?” Twilight said with a growing feeling of familiarity as it drew closer.  The glowing bird twittered excitedly and flew circles around her head, ethereal flames trailing from her tail.  “It’s him, Applejack!”

“That’s great, but we still haven’t found RD.”

Philomena (Twilight was certain now, even if Applejack looked stubbornly unconvinced) squawked and zipped ahead a few paces ahead of them, hovering expectantly.  The ponies followed him, and unfortunately the phoenix was leading them back into the thicker parts of the wood.   

“I think he knows where Rainbow is,” Twilight called back.  Philomena was adept at dodging the angry swipes of the trees, and his small size made him difficult to keep up with.  At least his burning feathers kept him visible through the branches and falling leaves.   The trees also seemed a little put off by him, unsure of the cold, magical fire. 

Several harried minutes later they were looking up at a wriggling bundle of branches and vines, patches of blue fur and multicoloured hair poking out from between the coils.  At least there was no mistaking her, even in the dark.  

Getting her down was another challenge entirely, the trees seemed exceedingly reluctant to release their latest prisoner and their fear of the fire appeared to diminish accordingly.  Twilight ground her teeth as she channelled more energy into the burning wood held high in front of them.  Applejack flung more and more wood at her, the wet branches smoking fiercely and adding a thick haze to the mist.

Twilight levitated the branches upwards while Applejack defended their position and the wood groaned and cried around them, torn between two decisions.  It was a delicate balance between tormenting the trees and being careful enough to avoid burning their friend, but perseverance and a fair helping of luck had her down eventually, albeit a bit bruised from falling without being able to open her wings yet. 

Once on the ground Applejack bit and tore at the remaining vines, heedless of the bitter, sticky stuff getting in her mouth.  Rainbow Dash sensed escape and was wriggling frantically to try and speed the process along, which only slowed them down in the end.  When her hooves were free at last she scratched at the bits on her muzzle, and was finally able to speak again.

Together again and able to move they ran for the edge of the forest, desperate to leave the frightening place far behind.  The trees seemed to sense their captives were finally getting away and redoubled their efforts to recapture them. 

In the end the three ponies and a phoenix prevailed, bursting out from the border of the wood in a flurry of leaves and twigs, chased by a hundred thrown pieces of wood and sticky barbs.  They ran some way into the mists, breathless and panting, and found themselves up against another rocky standing.  They scrambled thankfully up the side, dislodging grit and small rocks, aware the trees couldn’t follow them.

“That was awful,” Twilight moaned.  “Let’s agree to never do that again.”

Applejack was licking at several long scratches she’d gathered during their fight, and Twilight fussed at her own with her magic.  Rainbow Dash was trying to get the sticky residue from the trees off her fur.  Big patches of her wings were smeared with the stuff, and it had soaked into the feathers thoroughly, grounding her for the moment.

“I think we should head on,” Twilight said, peering up into the misty darkness, trying to see the stony mountain they were aiming for.  “I don’t really feel like sleeping again.  Who knows how fast those things can move.”

“Can you find the way in this mist?”

“I hope so,” she said.  In the distance they could hear the moan of the wind through branches and the rattle of dead leaves.  Through the fog the sounds were muffled and lonesome, the sort of sounds that would send shivers up a pony’s spine.  “We daren’t stay here much longer.”
	
> Chapter 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Riley had been staring at the monitor for some time now, the scene outside seemed all the more frightening after a few hours’ rest.  The adrenaline had dissipated completely leaving him feeling drained.  The handful of slender, pale humanoid things scuttling around the outside of the ship were worrying him deeply and installing a deep sense of terror.

They were, for all intents and purposes, now trapped.  Admittedly it was of their own doing, but that didn’t change the fact that they weren’t going anywhere until the things outside went away.  He was starting to question the wisdom of locking themselves in.  It seemed the better of a set of bad choices at the time, but now he was not so sure. 

Their initial plan had been to wait it out until daylight and hope the monsters would hide away under the bright light of day, but something gave him the feeling they would find a way in before then, and once that happened things seemed sure to become particularly unpleasant.  His stomach felt sick and empty.  It had been a while since they’d eaten much more than field rations.

Davis took his turn to sleep, snoring remarkably daintily for such a large man.  Riley was feeling relatively refreshed and alert after a few hours’ rest and encouraged Walas to recover at the same time.  The exhausted marine didn’t require much persuasion at all.  

“It doesn’t take three men to watch the monitors.  If anything happens we’ll wake you both straight away.”

Cronenberg and Riley sat in silence, watching the monitors and peering nervously out of the viewports into the dark.  The creatures knew to avoid the windows, but they didn’t seem to know about the cameras and sat in plain view around the back of the ship.  Every now and again they could hear thin claws clattering over the hull, and once Riley caught a burst of movement at the top of the front window, a flash of white skin in the reflected light. 

“What do you make of them?” he asked Cronenberg.

“Weak, sir.  Look how skinny they are, not a muscle in there.  They got big teeth, but they never attacked us.  Not directly.  Lured us out one at a time.  Tricked us into doing their work for them.”

Riley nodded in agreement.  “There’s at least five of them out there, maybe six, I can’t be sure.  I wonder if we should just go out there, guns blazing.”

Cronenberg looked sceptical.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sir.  Bastards took out half of us already.  They’re dangerous.  Even if they are feeble.  Some sort of mind tricks.  I couldn’t trust my own eyes, if I went out there again.  Not in the dark.  Likely to shoot one of you, as much as them.”

Riley chewed his lip thoughtfully.  “There’s something there beyond simple trickery, they know what we want to see, what would distract us, or make us snap.”

“Mind readers, sir,” Cronenberg said, without a hint of amusement.  “They can read minds.”

Riley frowned, such superstitious nonsense ran against his deeply scientific beliefs.  Since his arrival on the peculiar planet, however, he had found his understanding of the universe deeply disturbed.  Even if he didn’t call it magic there was clearly a whole new field of science that they didn’t understand, yet.  Maybe telepathy wasn’t so far-fetched. 

“What did you see?” he asked, thinking.  

“My son, sir,” Cronenberg admitted after a long pause.  “He was in the forest, playing.  Only it couldn’t have been him.  He died, four years ago.  Raid on Poseidon-8.”

“I’m sorry,” Riley said, looking away.  There was something deeply unnerving about the beefy marine’s sorrow.  His usual view of the soldiers that he flew with was as machines, strong, dangerous, and emotionless.  Expendable.  Seeing their softer side was always an unwelcome reminder that they were people too, deep down. 

“Do you know what the others saw?”

“Walas said he didn’t see anything.  But I ain’t never seen him so white, sir.  He was terrified of something.”

A particularly loud clang reverberated around the quiet space, and they both jumped.  Another slithering sound and one of the creatures dropped back down into view behind the ship, a rock held in its spindly fingers.  Riley relaxed, it would take a lot more than rocks to break through armour built to shrug off Thala weapons.

“What about you, sir, what did you see?”

“Nothing,” he said, truthfully.  “And I’m not afraid to admit I was bricking it out there.  But I didn’t see anyone.  I saw one of them, in the trees above me, not more than a metre away. But it wasn’t messing with my mind.”

“Why?”

“I’m not certain, but I wonder if my implants bother it.  Perhaps whatever link it forms to get into your head doesn’t work on me.  Everyone else saw things, either their deepest fears, or someone they love.  All except me.”

“So you’re immune to their trickery.”

“Maybe it’s metal?  Nothing much has happened since we’ve been in here, either.  Perhaps they can’t penetrate metal, and the metal in my head acts as a barrier as well.”

“Makes sense, sir,” the marine nodded.  “But how’d they get everyone else?  Ship had a crew of at least twenty.”

“Twenty-three, in fact.  But I think it’s fair to assume that they were all outside already, they wouldn’t have had any warning, like we did, no cause to fear.  They didn’t know how dangerous this world was.  They’d have set up a defensive perimeter, but they wouldn’t expect mind-readers.”

“Do you think anyone else will come after us?”

“Unlikely, they won’t risk losing anymore resources.  I can’t find out though, we never got chance to put out any comms-net relays into orbit before we came down, we don’t have any contact with the base camp from here.  We certainly can’t rely on help coming.”

“Can you make us shields or something?” Cronenberg asked, picking up his helmet from where it lay on the ground.  They had very little metal in them, made instead of lightweight layered composites designed to absorb and distribute the impact of high velocity rounds.

“I don’t think so,” he said.  “And it’s a big risk.  The theory’s just that at the moment – a guess.  We have no real data.  I think, maybe, I should go out alone.  See if I can at least get one or two of them.  If that works I can run back in, and maybe we’ll risk it with metalwork.”

Cronenberg looked deeply dubious, and Riley suddenly felt as if he could read minds, too.  He was aware that compared to them he appeared weak and feeble, although personally he thought he had handled himself quite well in their fights so far, except perhaps the last one.  He had survived over a decade of fighting with their space-borne enemies, as well, and he had seen quite a bit of action on that front.  He was no weakling, not by a long shot.

He frowned and set his jaw firm.  Perhaps it wasn’t such a great idea, he had no plan beyond trying to shoot a couple of them.  They were fast and small, so even that was going to be difficult.  He suspected that five against one was poor odds, even as feeble as they looked.  Their teeth were long and sharp, and if their strategy was to draw them off one at a time then it stood to reason that they were capable of handling one marine at a time. 

“Sir, look,” Cronenberg said, interrupting his thoughts and gesturing to the monitor.  “Another three have come.”

His heart fell.  It was starting to look like the longer they waited the more problems they were going to have when they finally did try to leave.  Something strange was happening outside, however.  

“What are they doing?” he asked, somewhat rhetorically.  He moved to a viewport and peered out of it, just able to see the edge of a group of nine of the things, standing in a cluster and in a state of deep agitation.  They were talking to one another, and the external microphones could pick up a high, screeching chatter, punctuated with clicks and hisses.  

As one the group turned to face the dark forest, and without warning a cloud of buzzing black things rushed out at them.  

“Changelings!” the marine hissed loudly.  The other two soldiers were awake very quickly at their mention.  

There weren’t as many as before, and there didn’t seem to be any sign of a queen.  The newcomers appeared to outnumber the slender white creatures – imps, Riley decided – at least three to one, and the two species fought viciously, the imps holding their own despite the imbalance.

Riley was re-evaluating his conclusion that the imps were weak, they seemed to be effective fighters against the horde.  Their sharp, pointed fingers cut through chitin and flesh alike, and soon the sticky green fluid was splattered about again, many changeling bodies still on the churned up ground.  The imps had not fared so well, either, only two of them were left fighting, the others still on the ground.  

Riley was starting to feel a glimmer of hope in his chest, and the other three had narrowed their eyes.  There were still plenty of changelings left, but they had fought them before, and they were an altogether far less intimidating enemy.  It would be a hard fight, especially in the dark, but Riley fancied their chances a lot better.

“Gear up, lads, when those two have gone down, we go out there and finish off the changelings.  We hold our position at the base of the ship, when it’s clear we run for it.  I’m not waiting for more of those imps to come back.”

“Sir,” they agreed as one, strapping on helmets and body armour with practised efficiency.  Weapons clicked as their moving parts were checked twice. 

“Wait,” he said, holding out an arm and watching the monitors with interest.  From the trees there was a soft light coming, and the small speakers in the bridge repeated the sound of shouting, in Equestrian this time.  Riley’s ears pricked up and he leant closer, trying to pick out the sounds.  The light in the forest grew and grew until a small group of armoured ponies burst forwards, all unicorns, and all with their horns aglow.  Riley very nearly cheered.

Hot blasts of plasma flew forwards, catching the changelings and the remaining two imps head-on.  They fell rapidly.  

“Twilight!” Riley called with childlike excitement, even though she couldn’t hear him.  The lavender pony had appeared behind the unicorn regiment, apparently directing it.  It was a little bitter to admit they had been rescued by the ponies, but at that moment he couldn’t have been happier to see them. 

“Sir,” warned Cronenberg.  “Seems awfully convenient.”

“It’s her, I know it.  And look, they’re all down.”

Outside the changelings had been driven away, no sign of them save the dead and dying ones on the ground.  The dead imps lay inert on the ground, pale white bodies almost glowing in the harsh electric light.  Twilight was galloping across the clearing to the ship and stood in front of it, bathed in light, real and whole.  She called up to them, her voice clear over the speakers. 

“Follow me, before more come!”

“Sir, she’s not real,” Walas warned.  “She’s a phantom.”

“No, this is real.  They don’t affect me,” he said firmly, tapping his head.  Squinting out through the window at her.  She was glaring back impatiently, looking around nervously all the time.  “This is our chance, fall out.”

Davis moved to stand behind him, blocking the door.  

“Don’t you see?  She’s followed us here, maybe she realised what we’d be facing.  This is the one chance we’ll get.”

“You can’t change the plan, sir,” Walas said.  “We wait here, until daylight.  This isn’t safe.”

Outside there was a muted scream, thin and pained over the speakers, and Riley whirled around to look out of the crazed, scratched viewport.  Twilight had one of the imps on her back, evidently not as dead as it looked.  It was bleeding, a dark red blood, almost black, but it also had its sharp fingers locked around her neck, barely hanging on as she thrashed about, trying to dislodge it.  Riley’s vision burned and a fiery rage pounded in his veins. 

Riley darted around Davis, smashing the door release catch and leaping through the door as soon as it had opened wide enough.  The marines were taken aback, unable to react in time and he was out before they could stop him.  He slithered down the slanting metal floor until he could drop out of the huge tear in the side of the ship, landing heavily on the soft earth underneath the craft. 

The air smelled thick with the now familiar scent of the changelings, their acrid blood wafting on the breeze.  Trees creaked in the darkness, a stiff breeze blowing them about,  Barely stopping to look around he rushed around the crashed vessel to the front where Twilight was on her knees, gasping for breath.  The monster on her back was still holding on, although it looked equally unwell.  He sprinted across to it, clubbing it hard over the head with his rifle again and again until it let go with a shriek, sliding off to one side. 

He kicked its scrawny body to the side, out of reach of his friend.   Twilight was gasping for breath, frantic and distraught.  He dropped his gun and held her head in both hands, lifting her up to look at him.

“I’m okay,” she wheezed.  “Just need a moment.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and gently felt the side of her neck, there didn’t seem to be any cuts.  “What are you doing here?”

“Came for you, silly,” she said with a weak grin.

He closed his eyes and let go of her.  “Thankyou, honestly.  But you shouldn’t have.  That was dangerous.”

“Sir!” came the shout of Cronenberg.  Twilight looked up and struggled to her feet, slightly unsteady.  Riley glared at the three, and they tried their hardest not to look guilty.

“Good to see you join us,” he snapped acerbically.  “Are we good to go?”

Walas and Davis were inspecting a couple of the fallen imps, poking at them with their guns.  

“There’s not a mark on them,” Walas called, looking back over his shoulder.   “Where are the rest of the ponies?”

“This one either,” Davis replied, rolling it over with his boot.  As it rolled onto its front its eyes snapped open, small and black.  Too fast for the eye to see it had leapt up and torn Davis’ throat out with razor-sharp claws.  The marine gurgled and jumped back.  

At the same time Walas cried out in pain, the imp at his feet now clamped across his chest, teeth deep into his shoulder and neck.  Walas was a big man and ripped it away then kicked it hard across the clearing.  Blood poured from his neck and he stumbled, raising his weapon and gunning down the imp as it scrambled back at him.  The little creature’s slender body was utterly devastated by the rounds and it fell down, truly dead this time.

Walas didn’t have much time to react however, as another two of them leapt on him, finishing the job their fellow had failed to do.  Cronenberg was running at them, bellowing as he fired his weapon at the pair.  The rest of the imps around the field had woken up at the same moment and were bounding across to the marine, surrounding him in a tight knot of slashing claws that fell to the ground sluggishly. 

“Run!” screamed Twilight, knocking the imp that jumped her away with a burst of magic and galloping off into the trees.  Riley took one look at the scene behind him and rushed after her, heart pounding hard in his chest.

“This way!” she called from up ahead, a glimmering light in the trees.  “Hurry!”

“Where are you going?  Where are the others you came with?” he yelled, trying to read his navigator at the same time.  It seemed confused and pointed the wrong way as he fiddled with it.  “What about the others?”  

“This way!  Hurry!”

His heart pounded harder, this wasn’t right at all.  

“Twilight, stop,” he pleaded, slowing to a jog.

“This way!”

The light glimmered brighter in the trees, some way off now.  He stopped completely, looking around nervously.  She was gone, only the light from the crash site illuminating his back.  Things creaked and rustled and cracked in the trees around him.   He whispered weakly, “you’re one of them, aren’t you?”

There was no real reply, only the same repeated plea.  He shook his head, furious with himself all of a sudden.  The whole thing had been a trick, they could project their mirages onto him all the time, they just chose not to.  In the clearing, with so many of them, they had constructed an elaborate ruse, complete with fake changelings and ponies.  They’d got seven out of eight now, leaving just one. 

“Well you’re not getting this one,” he snarled to the darkness, then turned about and fled through the forest, his legs moving as fast as possible, following the directional indicator on his wrist like a life-line.  The fear seemed to snap, adrenaline and anger combining to numb his thoughts and he ran with a single-minded purpose.  He tried to remember how far it was to the edge of the trees, thinking back to the meandering route they had taken, confused by the monsters even then.  

It seemed like it should have been further, but after half an hour of the hardest running he had ever done in his life he found himself standing under the stars once more, no trees above him anymore.  There was no reason, of course, that the imps couldn’t follow him out here, but it certainly felt a lot safer and he slowed his pace, fighting back the darkness that plucked at the edges of his vision with each laboured beat of his heart.

In the gloom it was difficult to make anything out, but his navigator claimed he was still heading back towards the base camp.  The thought of travelling through the thick forest that surrounded the ponies’ town on his own was a daunting one, but without getting any sort of communication back to the admiral he was left with few other options.  It left two real choices, wait until daylight before attempting it and risk spending more time outside alone, or head straight back and risk the forest in the dark.

The third option, he realised dimly, was to head towards Canterlot, and seek out Twilight and the others.  At least he wouldn’t be completely alone that way, although it would delay matters significantly, and he was on borrowed time from the admiral already.  Williams would not take kindly to him delaying the mission because of cowardice. 

No, he reasoned, he was going to go straight back.  They were relying on him, and he wasn’t going to let them down.  The desire to be around Twilight and the other two couldn’t be allowed to factor into his decisions.  They couldn’t help him much, at any rate.  He could travel lighter and quieter without them.  

What if they didn’t return in time, though?  If he could get back before daylight then they stood a good chance of being able to dust off the planet before the three ponies returned from Canterlot, particularly if they also had to travel through the forests as well.  Furthermore, if Canterlot really was as pleasant as Twilight’s endless stories of her childhood had led him to believe then they’d be in no rush to leave. 

He shook the thought aside, if they never saw one another again then that was for the best.  It had already got too complicated.  More would only make it worse.  

Still, it wasn’t easy to bear. 

An hour later he was sat up on a small hillock, leaning back against what seemed to be the collapsing remains of an old stone wall.  He had stumbled across what had once been a small village on the side of a hill, he decided, the foundations of stone buildings just discernable through the grasses.  He wondered how old it was, as there was very little left. 

He had dared light a small fire with some twigs and bits he had scavenged, and the meagre warmth helped comfort him a little as he huddled close to it, nibbling on his last energy bar.  It was going to be a miserable day or two of hiking without food, he realised.  There was precious little wildlife around to hunt, save a few night birds in the sky, and none of the plants he passed he really recognised.  A lot of them looked similar to earth varieties, but eating unknown fruit from an alien planet was pretty much asking for trouble to find him. 

At least the moon was up, he reasoned, glowing brightly in the sky.  It illuminated the surrounding countryside, allowing him to see some distance if he shielded his eyes from the relative brightness of the fire.  There were too many small hills and lone trees for things to hide in to allow him to feel completely comfortable or at ease, but it was unarguably better than the forests.  So far nothing good had come of being in a forest.  At least when they had been out in the open not a lot seemed to happen to them.

Some movement high up in the sky caught his attention again, and he could just make out the shape of a large bird, soaring slowly in the sky above him somewhere.  It was pretty much invisible from beneath except for the shadow it cast over the stars.  He watched it circling lazily, wishing he could fly with it.  Getting back to the camp would be easy from the air.

He poked sullenly at the fire, trying to control its burn so that it didn’t either get too large and draw attention or go out completely.  Lighting it from the damp wood and twigs had been difficult at best.  Unbidden his thoughts turned to the three ponies, wondering what they were doing.  He looked out across the plains, over the low fog that was forming in patches, wondering which direction they were in.   In the far distance the imposing bulk of the mountain they were aiming for rose up from the plains, dark and tall.  He wondered how they would get up it, the sides appeared to be sheer.  Could the ponies climb?  Rainbow Dash could simply fly, but Twilight was afraid of heights and Applejack had no wings at all.

The bird was still circling, although much lower now, seeming larger in the sky.  He squinted up at it, switching vision modes through a variety of enhancements to try and make it out.  It looked a bit like a large raven, although it was impossible to tell accurately from such a distance.  One thing that seemed odd about it was how slowly it was moving, it couldn’t be much higher than a large tree anymore, yet it was moving at a speed which suggested it was a long, long way up.

Some nagging feeling in his stomach made him gulp nervously and his skin crawled.   It was still getting bigger, far larger than any normal bird.  Hurriedly he kicked at the fire, trying to put it out, but in his haste he simply spread it wide and it flared up briefly like a beacon before burning away.  He stamped at the glowing embers, crushing them into the ground and extinguishing them.

He looked up and shouted out in alarm as an impossibly huge bird descended rapidly for him, just pulling up out of a steep dive, its long talons outstretched.  It screeched with an ear-splitting sound that echoed back and forth across the plains.

Riley dodged out of the way, grabbing his pack as he did and rolling down the side of the hillock, bumping and cursing the whole way.  As he dived he felt the tip of a talon scratch across his face but he had no time to stop and investigate as the world tumbled past, over and over like a wild fairground ride.  

There was another screech and a powerful gust of wind rushed past him as the unrealistically large bird banked hard overhead, turning around nimbly in the air despite its size.  He looked around wildly, desperate for cover, but his very reason for camping there in the first place had been because of a lack of places for other things to hide. 

There was nothing for it this time, and as the bird came at him he glumly recalled all the things he had promised to do before he died, how he always said he would leave the service before he got too old.  There were not many old people who had been in the space fleet.  They tended not to live that long enough to get old.  For reasons exactly like this, he now realised.

The bird did not eat him there and then, however, and simply grabbed him tightly in its talons, each one long enough to wrap around him completely.  With powerful beats of its huge wings it took to the skies, ascending rapidly and making his ears pop.  He laid as still as he could, hoping it wouldn’t decide suddenly that it didn’t want him after all.  Another thought came to mind, of a type of bird on Earth that would prey on snails by picking them up high and dropping them on stones to crack their shells.  He gulped nervously. 

The flight itself was quite pleasant, he realised, after he relaxed a little.  There was little he could do at this point, so he simply gave up trying and watched the darkened landscape with detached interest, spotting the rivers and lakes pass by far below, the moonlight reflected brightly from their flat surfaces.  He couldn’t see a huge amount of the ground since the bird was holding him at an angle, looking at the horizon behind them.  

If he turned his head carefully he could just about see behind him, and it seemed as though luck was with him this time since they seemed to be heading for the mountains, specifically they were going straight towards the Canterhorn, its bulk growing larger by the minute. 

The wind tearing past him was fast and very cold, and by the time the bird landed somewhere on the side of the mountain he was numb all over.  The cut on his face throbbed uncomfortably, but he had still not been able to investigate it, pinned in as he had been.  The bird dropped him from a few metres above the ground and he landed in a moderately soft pile of twigs and fur, the contents of his pack digging into his lower back uncomfortably.  There was a crunching from somewhere underneath him and he recognised the sunbleached shape of old bones, mostly smaller animals. 

Riley realised now where he was, a nest, food for the bird’s young, most likely.  He cautiously peered around, worried about appearing too alive in case the bird decided he was in need of further assistance in changing that particular situation.  The creature itself was nowhere to be seen, however, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. 

He sat up, trying to will some feeling back into his senseless limbs.  The nest, at least, was sheltering him from the wind and was much warmer, helping him no end.  Cautiously he crawled across the uneven, squishy floor of the basket, wincing at every crackle of sound, and peered down over the edge.  

His breath caught in his throat when he realised how high up he was.  The nest must have been perched nearly at the very top of the immense spire of rock.  Down below he could see a couple of other nests, one of which had two smaller versions of the bird in, asleep and unmoving.  The parent was in a third, snuggled up amongst its feathers and watching over the plains far below. 

With a start he fell back, certain it would see him.  He looked over the other side, spotting the shape of a vast city down below, cut into the side of the mountain.  There was no mistaking it as Canterlot, Twilight had spoken endlessly of it.  He fancied he could probably draw an accurate map from her descriptions alone.  A river ran down through its middle, dropping in a vast waterfall off the side, fed by another cascade that came down from somewhere below him and he briefly wondered exactly how so much water was coming from so high up. 

The nest was pushed up firmly against a vertical rock face.  He squinted into the night, trying to make out its texture but it looked flat and featureless in the darkness.  He dared not use his torch for fear of alerting the parent bird, but it didn’t look as though there was any escape in that direction.  Even if there had been good footholds he knew he was no climber and without gear he’d surely fall to his messy death below.

“Alpha to Collins, come in, over,” crackled his earpiece, and he jumped in shock, not expecting to hear any voices up here.  The signal was weak and intermittent to the point of not existing, but it was definitely the base talking and the sound of their voices cheered him up immediately.  Up at such an altitude he must have some amount of line of sight back to the ships and very favourable atmospheric conditions.  

“Collins to Alpha, over,” he whispered, hoping they would be able to make him out. 

“Channel secured.  Your beacon has come back online.  What is your location and situation?”

“Am I glad to hear you guys,” he said cheerfully, forgetting protocol for a moment.  “Transmitting location, situation is tenuous.  Currently stranded at the top of the mountain.  I am in possession of the warp core.  My team has been lost.  I have been taken prisoner by giant bird.”

Ordinarily he might have struggled to say the last phrase without laughing, but after their time on the alien world things like this had started to see almost normal.  The operator on the other end of the channel apparently thought the same and didn’t question the sensibility of the statement. 

“Acknowledged, lieutenant-commander Collins.  Admiral Williams has instructed that your mission is of the highest priority.  You are instructed to take every measure possible to return the device to base.  Resources are extremely scarce but we will send a local pegasus wing to your location to assist.”

“Understood, Alpha.  Be aware the giant bird is of some fifteen metres wingspan and very fierce.”

“Acknowledged.  Pegasus wing will be briefed.”

“What’s the situation there?”

The voice on the other end of the connection switched to a less formal tone, and he could imagine he was talking to a real person once again.  “Dire, sir, the town is under renewed attack from unknown aggressors.  Situation looks bleak.  Casualties include fifty-three units and one frigate.  The remainder are grounded.  At the moment we are relying heavily on local assistance, but they are beginning to break apart and have taken heavy casualties.   If you don’t hurry back soon, sir, there may not be a town to return to.”

“Can you clarify?  What’s attacking?”

There response was a few garbled words and a lot of compression noise.  He repeated his question a few more times, but nothing came of it.  He cursed under his breath, fiddling with the communicator on his wrist to no avail.  After that there was not a lot to do other than wait and hope the ponies they were sending would be able to reach him in time.  He had no idea how soon the young birds would wake up and want their breakfast. 

He lay back against the wall of the nest, watching the other side with narrowed eyes.  He resolved to stay awake, despite how tired he felt.  The bird could come back at any time to swipe him away, and he was determined to at least put up a struggle.  If it came to the worst then a quick jump off the side might be a less messy death than the alternative.  His stomach felt tight at the idea, the despairing thoughts of a hopeless mind. 

The soft call of a pony woke him, and he opened his eyes to find someone – somepony – peering closely at him, face mere inches from his own.  He stifled a gasp and scooted back a foot.  She smiled widely at him, now he was awake and presumably not dead. 

“Hi!” she whispered cheerfully.  “I’ve come to help you!”

He looked around, peering behind the grey pegasus.  Now that he thought about it she seemed familiar, frazzled blonde mane and tail still recognisable in the glow from the moon.  “I know you,” he said. 

“Yup, you do, I delivered your letter.  I deliver everypony’s letters.  Derpy Hooves, at your service, mister!”

The pegasus’ cheery manner was a little contagious and he offered her a weak smile.  “Where are the rest of you?” 

Her face fell and she looked down suddenly, as if remembering something she had previously forgotten.  “They’re all gone,” she mumbled sadly, pawing at the dusty, twig-strewn floor with a forehoof.  “There were monsters in the air, but we were told it was very important we get you, so we flew through them anyhow.”

He looked at her closer, she had a deep scratch all the way down her left side, the fur stained with her blood, dried in long streaks from the wind.  She held one of her hindlegs at an angle, another deep scratch visible across the knee.  

He shuffled closer, inspecting her injuries with his flashlight on its lowest setting.  It didn’t look all that deep, just very long, and the exertion of flying had caused it to bleed a lot.  “How did you get away?”

“I’m the fastest,” she told him, sitting down in the nest.  Her pretty eyes were wide and wet.  “I flew away.  I left them behind.”

“Do you know how to fight, Derpy?” he asked, trying to catch her attention. 

She shook her head sadly, blinking her huge eyes to clear the tears that were building.  He felt immensely sorry for her.

“Then you did the right thing,” he said, trying his hard to sound soothing.  “You should never have been through any of this, thankyou for coming to help me.”

“What if they’re…” she stopped and whispered the final word even quieter, barely audible, “…dead?”

“Hey now,” he said quickly, reaching out and taking one of her forehooves in both hands, giving it a tender squeeze.  “Don’t think about it, a lot of people, a lot of ponies, have died in this horrible mess.  But a lot have survived against terrible odds as well.  There’s every chance they fought on and survived, all so you could escape and fulfil your mission.”

“Mission, yes,” she said, sniffing noisily.  He glanced nervously over the edge of the nest again, looking for signs of movement.  “I won’t fail my mission, they’ll see.”

“They?”

“The other ponies, they don’t think I can get anything right.  But I got this right, I found you!”

Derpy seemed easily distracted from her problems.  He wasn’t very confident in her ability to help him, however.  She was not the largest of ponies, and he was quite heavy, not to mention she was clearly injured.  “Did you bring rope or anything?” he asked, a little hopefully.  She was carrying a very small set of streamlined grey saddlebags and he found it hard to imagine there was anything very useful in there.

“No,” she said with a shake of her head.  “Just food.  But I can carry you down!  You’ll be just like a big parcel.”

The food she had brought turned out to be cake, which, while not the usual sort of supplies he was used to, was very welcome and quite delicious.  Derpy seemed to devour her rather large piece in seconds, and he wondered where it all went.  He supposed being a delivery pegasus required a lot of calories.  It certainly cheered her up no end, and a short rest had let her get her breath back.

She was fiercely adamant in her ability to carry him, and in all honesty he couldn’t see any other way to get out of the current situation.  The cliff face looked just as sheer as before, and to make matters worse the moon had moved around in the sky so that the side of the mountain he was interested in was getting rapidly darker. 

He returned from peering out over the edge of the nest.  The bird appeared to be asleep, at least he couldn’t make out the glitter of its beady eyes anymore.  He maintained hope that its hearing wouldn’t be acute, evolved as it was for hunting from high up where sharp vision was a far more important attribute.

“How do we do this?” he asked, looking at her expectantly.

“Um,” she said, looking at him.  “The plan was two of us to carry you in a harness.  But we lost that.  And there’s only me.”

“But you think you can carry me?”  He looked at her nervously.  If she stretched out to her full length she would still be shorter than him, ignoring her tail.  There was no practical way she would be able to support his bulk, but then it didn’t look as though the pegasi should be able to support their own weight, either.

“Easy!” she chirped loudly.  She immediately clamped a hoof over her mouth.  “Sorry.  Maybe you could lie on my back, between my wings, and hug me with your forelegs?”

Somewhat haltingly he did as she asked, feeling a little ridiculous.  He was barely six foot tall, but that was still far taller than most of the ponies were long.  He awkwardly rested his weight on her and she grunted slightly, pushing back up with her legs.  She was warm and soft, and so close to her he could smell the same sweet, subtle scent that all the ponies seemed to produce. 

“Are you certain about this?” he asked nervously as she experimentally spread her wings, giving them a gentle flap to test.  Under all that fur he could feel powerful muscles tensing.  Maybe this could work, after all.

She nodded then craned her neck around to look at him over her own shoulder.  “Yup, I’ll get you back safely, I promise,” she said, still confident.  She wobbled across to the edge of the nest, twigs and woody material crunching underhoof.  She pushed herself up onto the rim with a grunt and they both peered down into the gloom.  He had a sickening vision of the spires of the city far below and his stomach lurched uncomfortably.  He had done several parachute jumps in training, and this felt very much like that, only far less secure. 

“I don’t think this is going to…” he said, about ready too call it off, but he was cut short by Derpy kicking off with a powerful push from her hind legs, her wings spreading out to catch the wind.  He tried his very hardest not to scream like a little girl, but a few squeaks came out anyhow, and in the circumstances he wasn’t sure anyone could really blame him.

The wind tore at his hair and he hung on around the pegasus’ neck for his very life as she fell like a stone, pointing nearly straight down, her mane whipping at his face and neck.  The roofs and buildings of Canterlot came rushing up to meet them and he could feel the powerful muscles in her chest and sides trembling as she tried to pull up into a glide. 

Agonisingly slowly they began to level off, skimming the tops of the buildings, almost close enough for him to touch.  He marvelled at how such small wings could keep so much mass afloat.  There was more than simple aerodynamics at play here, that much was clear.  

“We’ve have to land,” she shouted back at him over the top of the roaring wind, breathless and panting.  He nodded enthusiastically, trying to loosen his involuntary stranglehold on the poor pegasus.   “You’re a very heavy parcel.”

He didn’t have a lot of time to be offended as they came in for a landing on a long, wide street.  It was covered in bits of fallen stone and debris, and they were still travelling dangerously fast.  Derpy wisely decided that this was a terrible place to land and aborted at the last minute with a lurch that nearly brought his cake back up.

Her whole body trembled as she tried desperately to ascend, but with his extra weight she just couldn’t gain altitude.  The street was twisting, the crumbling buildings rushing by and getting closer and closer on each side.  He clenched his jaw, seeing the end of the avenue coming up.  At the speed they were going they’d both end up a broken mess on the stone buildings.

He glanced around, urgently looking for a way out.  They seemed to be coming up on a very old street market of some sort, collapsed wooden stalls lined the street, some still standing after all this time.  It was hard to tell at the speed they were going and in the very dim light, but they looked fairly rotten, and they were definitely softer than the alternative.

“Veer right!” he called loudly and she obeyed immediately, straining to keep them off the street.  He swallowed hard and leapt from her back, curling into a tight ball as he fell. 

The first impact was the worst and shaved off the majority of his speed, the ancient, soft wood exploding around him into splinters the size of his arm.  He hit the ground hard, rolling several times until he hit the next stall.  He took out another two after that before finally coming to a rest.

For a moment he lay still, not daring to move.  Everything hurt, his ears were ringing and he could hardly breathe from the shock of the initial impact.  One at a time he stretched out his limbs, praying each time that they’d respond correctly.  His legs both worked, which was an enormous relief.  The first crash had been right across his back and he was wearing a bare minimum of armour.  Breaking his spine would have been the end for sure. 

Shakily he lay back on the hard, splinter-covered ground and grinned up at the dark sky.  He was alive, and on solid ground.  A panicked fluttering brought a grey pegasus landing right on top of him and he laughed like a maniac, hugging her tightly while she squirmed. 

“You’re alive!” she cried happily into his chest, strong, trembling hooves finding their way underneath him to hug him back.  “You’re alive…”

“I’ve never felt so alive,” he added, releasing her.  “That was beyond terrifying.”

“You should eat less cake, mister,” she said, sitting up like a large dog and poking him reproachfully in the belly with a hoof.  She was sat on his legs, but she hardly seemed to weigh a thing.

“I warned you I was heavy,” he objected, still unable to wipe the smile from his lips.  “Thankyou, though.  That was very dangerous.”

“Nah, it was easy,” she said boastfully, dusting herself off.  “Could have carried us back to Ponyville, no problem.”

“I’m sure you could,” he laughed.

He sat up carefully, wincing at the pain it brought.  He didn’t think there was a single bit of him that didn’t hurt.

Derpy slid off his lap and gasped in alarm.  She was pointing at his side.  He followed her gaze, squinting in the darkness.  He could feel something warm and wet, and he gingerly felt the area with trembling fingers.  

There was a big piece of wood sticking out of the side of his abdomen.  A sense of terror began to fill him and he shakily felt around behind him.  It had not gone all the way through, but there was no telling how deep it had pierced.  He swore and fumbled around with his other hand for his torch.  He clicked it on, briefly blinding himself and peered down to examine the wound.

There was a lot of blood, he realised, the entire jacket under the hole was covered in it to the hem.  Derpy was watching him in horror as he carefully shrugged his other arm out of the jacket, pulling it off and around his bag.  It was then only attached to him by the shard of wood, and he grimaced.  He should really pull it out and cauterise the hole to save bleeding to death.  If it had done any damage to his organs then he would just have to hope they could deal with it back at the camp.  For now stopping the flow of blood was most important.  

He pulled at it tentatively, and a wave of pain more intense than anything he had ever experienced caused him to arch his back and moan through clenched teeth.  He stopped pulling and panted, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“I can’t do it,” he said, reaching for the omni-tool in his rucksack.  “You’ve got to pull it out.”

The pegasus squeaked and held up a wing in front of her face.  “It’ll hurt you!”

“I can’t leave it in there, Derpy,” he said, fixing her gaze.  “Please?”

She inched closer, reaching out a trembling hoof.  

“As fast as you can,” he said, bunching up the arm of his jacket and biting down on it.  Time seemed to slow, and he could feel the vibration through his insides when she touched the end, taking it carefully in her grip.  He nodded, still looking away, and there came a jerk and a pain even more unbearable than the first.  He screamed in agony, the tough fabric falling from his mouth.  

His cry seemed to echo around the eerie, deserted city, bouncing off the walls for what seemed an eternity.  As the sound died away it was answered by a screech from high up above them, the sound of the huge bird searching for them.  Derpy flung the bloody stick aside and turned back to Riley with a wild, panicked look in her eyes.

He was busy, his hands shaking as he used the medical tool to burn the insides of the ragged, bleeding hole.  The flow of blood lessened, but the pain continued on and on.  

“Roc!” Derpy cried, nosing his shoulder urgently.  “We have to hide!”

He tried to stand but that action caused him to double over in pain again and Derpy pushed herself under him, helping lift him to his feet.  He grabbed his pack and jacket on the way up, the stick still swinging grotesquely from the fabric.  Everything was swaying and he could hardly focus ahead.  

The pain was intense to the point of almost passing out, but up above the louder and louder screeching of the roc above them kept him awake as his aide helped him along, aiming for a gaping black doorway in a stone building nearby.  Together they hobbled through it and to the back of the cluttered room inside where he slumped against the wall and fell to the floor, one hand pressed tightly over the wound. 

“Are you okay?” Derpy asked anxiously, nosing at him in the dark.  “Please!”

“I’m okay,” he managed, every word and movement a symphony of pain.  He had never suffered so, and he was worried about just how much it hurt.  He had seen other men injured in similarly horrific ways during his service, and they hadn’t made it look this bad.  Had he damaged something more seriously?  Wasn’t adrenaline supposed to stop it hurting? 

Outside in the street the cries of the roc could be heard getting stronger and then quieter, then stronger again as it flew circles overhead, searching for him.  It continued for some minutes until a new sound shattered the air: a roar so loud that it caused plaster and brickwork to crumble and fall around them, sending clouds of dust billowing. 

Riley covered his ears against the awful sound, and Derpy cowered against him, a shaking bundle of fur and feathers, her wings wrapped around them both. 

“Dragon!” she hissed in his ear.  “There’s a dragon as well!”

“Great,” he squeezed out between clenched teeth.  He gently pushed her away and fumbled around in the near absolute darkness for his pack, looking for the medical kit again.  There were painkillers in there, the serious sort, designed for soldiers who needed to get up again and carry on fighting, no matter what.  They were dangerous, but he could barely stay awake through the pain, and that wasn’t helping anything.

The roar came again as he pressed the injector against the underside of his arm and pressed the trigger.  With a cool stinging sensation he felt the drugs enter his bloodstream, and almost immediately the sensation of pain lessened as chemical inhibitors bound themselves to the receptors in his brain, blocking the signals effectively.  He breathed a dreamy sigh of relief.  

Outside there was some sort of auditory battle going on, the dragon and roc screaming at one another.  He couldn’t see what was happening, but from the intensity of the sounds Riley strongly suspected the unseen dragon had the upper claw.  His conclusion was punctuated by an enormous gout of flame that split the sky, and while he couldn’t see it directly the reflections outside the doorway and empty windows were enough to demonstrate its intensity.  

Derpy clutched him tighter and he wound an arm around her, giving her a gentle squeeze and stroking the tangled hair on the back of her neck.  “It’s okay,” he soothed.  “They don’t know we’re here.  We just have to keep quiet until they’re gone.”

“I’m scared,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Me too,” he admitted, quite truthfully.

“I couldn’t really fly us back to Ponyville,” she said with a sniff, quite unexpectedly, and he patted her neck. 

He gently untangled himself from her and crept on all fours to the doorway.  Everything felt numb and strange, there was little sensation under his hands and feet, the strong chemicals acting a little like an anaesthetic as well as simple pain inhibitors.  Unsteadily he raised himself up against one of the windows beside the door, peering out into the street. 

There was no sign of the roc, nor the invisible dragon, and there was only the strange smell of what he could only imagine dragon-fire smelled like.  Almost sweet, with an undertone like burned fruit.  The sound of soft hooves on stone behind him alerted him to the sound of Derpy following, coming to peer out next to him.

“What do you see?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“Nothing,” he said.  “I need to find Twilight and the others, they were on their way here.”

“You have to rest!” 

He shook his head, stopping here would spell death for him, there was nothing here, no people, no ponies, no help.  His only chance was to find Twilight and hope she had a plan for getting back.

“I don’t like it here,” she said eventually, slinking back from the window.  “It’s too empty.”

“Isn’t it just,” he said.  “Twilight seemed to think it’d be a bustling city.”

Derpy nodded.  “It was.  I was here only a year ago, for the summer sun celebrations with my daughter.  She loved it here.  I just don’t know what’s happened to it.  Where have all the ponies gone?”

“I don’t know,” he said.  “You left your daughter behind to come and help me?”

She nodded again, sadly this time.  “She is very brave.  My little muffin.”

“Is she with her father?” he asked softly.

Derpy shook her head.  “No.  He father left a long time ago.  It’s just me, and Dinky now.  She is with Miss Cheerilee, right now, with lots of the other foals.  They’re all very afraid.  There’s so much violence and fear back in Ponyville right now.  I hope they are all okay.  I couldn’t bring myself to live without her.”

“I’m sorry you had to leave her behind for me,” he said, a heavy sadness in his heart.  “I’m so sorry for all of this.”

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice brighter again.  “I will see her soon, I know it in my heart.”

“You sure will.  If you want to return right now then you may, I won’t keep you here, you owe me nothing, and you’ve already done so much for me.  I’ll be okay from here.”

There was a pause in the darkness, and he could imagine her looking torn.  “I don’t know if I could get back safely,” she said, slowly.  He wasn’t entirely sure she believed him.  “It’s very dangerous in the skies right now.  Especially around the town.  I think I’d rather travel back with you.  If that’s okay.”

He nodded and patted her shoulder.  Things were going to be okay.  His mind was as clear as it was going to get considering the cocktail of drugs he had introduced into his bloodstream, and they were alive.  They would find the other three ponies, and then they’d be on their way back.

“Derpy,” he said soberly, turning his torch on a dim setting for the road outside and catching her attention.  “If I don’t survive, will you promise to take this rucksack back to the town and give it to the humans?  It’s very important, it’s the reason I’m out here.”

She nodded, a deep frown on her face.  He resolved not to fail, not to make her carry another burden.  

“We’d better get moving, before these painkillers wear off.”  He reluctantly climbed to his feet, swaying a little before steadying himself against the wall.  “This place looks huge, I don’t know how we’ll find them.”

“I could fly around and look for them,” Derpy suggested, and he shook his head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.  There’s at least two very big, very angry things in the sky already.  We should keep to the streets and the shadows, and just hope there’s nothing else nasty in this city.  You say you’ve been here before?  Where should we look?”

“The palace,” Derpy said without hesitation.  “They’d go to the palace, to find the princesses.  But I don’t think they’re here.  They would never let it get so untidy.  Very careless.  Broken things everywhere.  Tsk.”

They crept out into the moonlit streets, keeping to the shadows and following the derelict streets inward, towards the imposing face of the mountain and the cascading waterfalls that glittered in the night, forming a beautiful lunar rainbow where the spray caught the moonlight. 

There was a deathly stillness to the city, and a layer of dust and detritus that suggested it had been that way for countless decades.  Neither of them wanted to make any sound and trod very carefully, trying not to stumble over the blocks of masonry that littered the cobbled streets.  As well as the general decay from time there were signs of fighting.  They found broken arrows, their wooden shafts rotting away and blackened, melted spots in the stonework, scars and cracks in the brickwork.

As they walked the painkillers were already starting to wear off, and Riley could begin to feel the ache of the wound, a deep, crushing feeling.  He limped, and Derpy helped him along, steadying him with a strong wing against his good side.  Up ahead the palace gardens loomed, tiered beds overgrown with weeds and sprawling vines.  Derpy explained how beautiful the gardens used to be, and the parties the princesses used to hold there.  It was a far cry from the crumbling, overgrown thing it had become, thick with brambles and briars and dark corners.  She rambled on and on, seeming more desperate to talk as he fell quieter with each pained step, and the distraction was welcome, her soft, musical voice something to focus on. 

The palace itself was raised up above the city, overlooking it with its many ornate spires and dark windows.  It was like something lifted straight out of a fairytale, magnificent even in its dilapidated state.  Just looking around Riley could get a sense of the grandeur and life the place had once held in its carved marble embrace.

A long, curved staircase took them up to the gates of the palace itself, long since fallen from their enormous hinges.  The space inside was dark and unlit, the floor scattered with dust but free of any large stones or other clutter.  The place appeared in better repair than the rest of the city, whether down to maintenance or simply sturdier construction he couldn’t tell. 

There was an odd scent in the air, too, a musty, organic smell, and Riley hesitated, suddenly nervous of what was inside.  So many things had attacked them that he was wary of ambush at any point now.  He didn’t think he could survive another encounter, he was literally on his last breath. 

“I’ve been here before, too,” Derpy said wistfully, looking up at the ceiling far above them, lost to them in the darkness.  “At the annual gala.  Twilight Sparkle and the other five heroes were here, too.  Everything went rather wrong, but it was very funny.”

“I think she told me about that,” he said, smiling at the memory of the stories she had told him.  “They caused chaos, by the sound of it.”

“Not this sort of chaos,” she said sadly.  “The happy sort.”

They continued forward, despite the peculiar musty smell that was growing stronger with each step and he had the sensation of not being alone any longer.  Riley gently pulled her sideways until they were against the side wall, scooting around the edge of statues and marble pillars, but hidden in the shadows.  The silence felt heavy and ominous.

“It is highly unusual to see such a plump pony here,” said a slow, lazy voice from somewhere ahead of them.  It was no ordinary voice, however, the volume and pitch were extreme.  The low bass rumble seemed to shake the air around them, dislodging small pieces of stone from high up that clattered down around their heads.  Riley had a sudden sinking feeling in his gut that they had wandered into the worst possible place in the city.

He shone his torch into the darkness up ahead, but it was like a candle in a cavern and did nothing beside reflect off a few shiny objects in the distance, twinkling like a starfield in a million different colours.  Two very large, very close things suddenly flashed at him, partially obscured by large eyelids. 

“And what, or who, may I ask, is this?” 

Riley could feel the air in his chest vibrate with each thunderous syllable.  Derpy whimpered somewhere behind him.  There was no mistaking what sat before them in the darkness, the dragon from earlier, the one who had driven off the fierce roc.  The phrase ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ leapt to mind.

“Here, let me help you with that light,” the air rumbled.  A sudden spit of flame roared across the open space, impacting with a cluster of enormous candles set against a pillar.  It burst into flames, illuminating a small corner of the space.  More and more flames licked out, each roaring like a mountain river after a storm.    

Before them stood a beast bigger than Riley had ever seen before.  He towered above them, and yet he was still lying on the ground, mighty pointed head resting on his forepaws.   His hide glittered darkly in the flickering candlelight, and terrifying, curved fangs protruded from his scaled lips.  A long, forked tongue licked at the air.  He lay on a bed of gems and precious metal, a true hoard.  Riley had never seen so much wealth in one place. 

At least now he knew why the city was deserted.  Riley consoled himself with the fact that the monster could speak, which suggested that maybe he could also be reasoned with.  “We mean you no harm,” he said clearly and loudly. 

The dragon laughed, raising his head and shaking the very foundations with his mirth.  There was nothing Riley could ever have done that could hurt something so large.  “That is very true, strange being.  Tell me, what are you?”

“I am a human,” he said, drawing the word out.

“Ah, man,” the beast said.  “I thought you looked familiar.  I recall some old, dusty legends, almost lost to time itself.  You are, I believe, a fairytale made real.  Quite odd.

“What is your purpose here?  I understand it is you who enraged that rascal up on the rock, yes?”

Riley nodded mutely, every word seemed to knock the breath from him, yet all signs suggested the dragon was speaking quietly.  “She and I have an agreement, of sorts. I allow her to stay there, and take her pick of the local vermin, and in return she must not bother me with her petty problems and grievances.  Why do you give her cause to disturb my slumber?”

“She intended to eat me,” Riley said a little indignantly, his voice a few registers higher than he was expecting.  “I had no wish to disturb you.  Please, allow us to leave you in peace.  I did not know this city was occupied.”

“Nonsense,” the dragon rumbled.  “You must stay, I have not had the pleasure of polite visitors for quite some time.  Eighteen years, to be precise.  Usually, those who haul themselves up to this desolate, barren place have only one simple goal, the acquisition of valuables.  My hoard, you see, is quite the target.”

“I can assure you, we have no such intention,” Riley stammered, trying to ignore the glittering piles.  He was not a man generally interested in material wealth beyond what he needed to live comfortably, but some primal instinct deep-rooted in his soul couldn’t help but want to get closer, to touch and let it run through his fingers. 

“I see your heart, human,” the dragon rumbled, low and threatening, his eyes narrowed to slits and burning with a light that seemed to come from deep inside.  “However, I do believe you harboured no interest in my prize before you set eyes upon it.  I hold that it is a commendable and natural instinct to wish to acquire such brilliance.”

“What do you do with it?” 

“Why, admire it, of course,” the dragon said, as if it were obvious, and dragging his tail dreamily across the surface of a pile to scatter coins and gemstones the size of Riley’s hand.  Riley’s gaze at last travelled past the treasure and he spotted the enormous stacks of books that he had first mistaken for pillars.  They stretched up into the darkness, towering above them.  

“Ah,” said the dragon, following his gaze.  “I see you have spotted the true valuables in this hall.  Knowledge, a far more important treasure.  The key to a thousand doors, and the basis of a once powerful civilisation.”

“It’s an impressive collection,” Riley admitted, growing bolder and stepping out into the light.  Derpy stayed hidden, terribly afraid of the dragon.  Riley was feeling more confident by the second, the ancient beast seemed more interested in talking than anything else.  “May I ask, what happened here?”

“Here?” the dragon repeated, the simple question making the floor vibrate.  “Do you mean, ‘in this hall’, or ‘why is the city empty’?”

Riley looked around awkwardly, the dragon had the carefree nature of someone without any restraints on their time, he had all the time in the world by the look of him.  He, on the other hand, needed to get a move on and find the other ponies before they stumbled across the palace and got caught up with this strange monster as well.

“In this hall everything happened.  A long, long time ago now.  Little of note has occurred here for over two hundred true years.  Unless, of course, you count my magnificent hoard.  This used to be the seat of power in the nation once known as Equestria.  The goddess of the sun and her nocturnal sister resided here, directing the fate of the countless creatures that inhabited this realm.”

“Celestia and Luna?” he asked, recalling their names from Twilight’s gushing stories.  The dragon looked wistful and smiled, an almost vicious curl of his lips.

“Oh, now there are some names I haven’t heard mentioned in a hundred years.”

Derpy gasped behind him.  

“Does that surprise you, little one?” the dragon rumbled, peering around Riley with his head at an angle, one great slitted eye peering into the shadows.  Derpy shrank further back.  “I haven’t forgotten about you, I can smell you, in the shadows.  I can smell your fear.  You have flown long and hard, have you not?

“My, are you two not a conundrum.  From where have you travelled that the name of Celestia, goddess eternal, still carries weight?  No land near here, I am certain of it.”

“We’ve come from Ponyville, seeking some friends,” Riley said, moving sideways to hide the terrified pegasus.  

The dragon’s reaction was sudden and deeply unexpected.  He hissed angrily, drawing back from them with fire licking around his mouth and his eyes glowing brightly.   “Do you mock me, mortal?” his voice thundered, and Riley put his hands to his ears to block out the terrible sound.  “That place has not existed for three hundred years, to mention it in these halls is an insult.”

Riley swore in English and the dragon glared down at them, thrusting his head forwards again, his eyes still alight and intense.  His entire will was focused on Riley and his head throbbed with the intensity of the dragon’s gaze.  “It’s the truth,” he insisted loudly, trying to quell the shaking in his legs.

“Tell me your name, mortal,” the dragon snapped.  “I would have it before this conversation takes a darker path.”

He straightened his back, ignoring the ache inside.  “Lieutenant-commander Riley Collins, first Jovian space fleet.”

“Those words mean nothing, Riley Collins,” the dragon hissed.  “I find your presence here abhorrent.  You are not of this place.”

“Correct,” he said.  “I come from another planet, a billion miles from here.”

The dragon clearly sneered, disbelieving.  “You are a fairytale, human, you come from no place.  You are an illusion, an apparition.  Some witch or deviant has sent you here to taunt me.”  He looked around, head whipping back and forth, and when he spoke again it was in a voice that shattered the very air.  “Show yourself!”

Riley frowned deeply, his legs had regained some of their strength again and he stood tall.  “I assure you, dragon, I am as real as you.  And I have had some considerable experience with illusions of late.”

Their host’s head snapped back around, eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.  “The name Ponyville has not been uttered by any living creature for hundreds of years.  Tell me, what makes you different?”

“I can’t answer your question,” he said.  “All I can do is assure you that it’s very real, and is currently under attack from many strange things.”

“Forgive me if I am disinclined to believe you,” he replied, bringing his head even closer.  His hot breath wafted across Riley’s face, but instead of the smell of rotting meat or sulphur it was the same scent of burned fruit.  He seemed to calm slightly, muscles visible relaxing.  “However, I will honour you with the time to explain yourselves.  Little pony, step out here where I may see you.”

Derpy shrank back against the stonework.  Riley fancied she had hoped the dragon had forgotten about her, and for his part he would have been happy if that had been the case.  The innocent young mother didn’t deserve anymore hardship.  Instead he held his hand out to her.  “Come out, he won’t harm you.  I’m beside you.”

The dragon sneered again, as if the thought of Riley being able to protect her held any weight at all.  Fortunately he kept his scaly mouth closed.  Derpy cautiously crept forwards, keeping low to the ground, legs bent.  She scuttled over and pressed herself against Riley’s side, leaning into him.  He could feel her trembling like a leaf and instinctively put a hand on the side of her neck, hoping to calm her.  His fingers worked their way into her fur, scratching gently, and he felt her relax under his touch. 

The dragon cocked his head to one side and studied her closely.  At last he spoke, his voice softer now, barely even echoing around the hall anymore.  “It has been three hundred years since I saw you last,” he said slowly, and Riley realised the great beast was in shock.  “I didn’t think I would ever meet you again, not in this lifetime.”

Derpy looked up at him, curiosity beginning to override her fear at last.  She clearly had never met this monster before.  Riley watched with cautious interest.

“I have had many names over the countless decades,” he continued softly, staring at some point behind them in distant recollection.  “For I am many things to many different tribes.  But the first name I ever took has always held a special place in my hearts.  

“My name, Miss Hooves, is Spike.”

Derpy stood with her mouth hanging open, a look of incredulity on her face.  Riley blinked in confusion, the name meant little to him.  Spike turned to Riley, his gaze fierce and intense.  

“Now, my mysterious human friend, you will tell me everything.”
	
	
	
> Chapter 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the blazes was that?” Applejack exclaimed in alarm.  From somewhere far above them came a thunderous sound that shook the very rock around them.  All three ponies stopped in their tracks, looking around nervously. 

They were in the tunnel usually reserved for the train.  Under their hooves dull rails lay, a little rusty after a long time unused.  Water dripped all around them and a small stream had formed down the side of the tunnel, burbling quietly to itself.  The climb had been tiring, and much longer than necessary due to the gentle gradient the train usually had to follow.  

It had taken a bit of convincing to persuade Rainbow Dash to even enter the tunnel, she had been very reluctant to go into the dark hole.  Twilight had needed to assure her many times that there were clearly no trains running, even pointing to the rusty track as evidence.  It would be extremely unlikely that a train would come after no service for so long.  Rainbow had countered that most of the things that happened to them seemed unlikely on the face of it, and she didn’t really have much of an answer for that. 

Eventually they’d just ploughed ahead, and she’d reluctantly followed them when Twilight’s magical light had gone along for the ride as well.  The phoenix had seemed unbothered by the whole situation, apparently just relieved to be free of the trees.  Anything after that was probably a bonus.  Twilight wondered just how long it had been trapped there, waiting for a death that would never come. 

“Guys, I don’t like this,” Rainbow said, moving to stand behind Applejack, her wings partially extended in preparation for flight.  Their voices sounded strange in the confined space, echoing from the hard rock walls and racing away down the tunnel.   

“It’s fine, RD,” Applejack said, moving aside.  “Just an earthquake or something.”

“Earthquake!” she cried in alarm, wings out wide.  “What if the tunnel comes down on us?”

“Relax, Rainbow,” Twilight said calmly.  “The engineers who built this railway knew what they were doing.  There’s often tremors in these parts, and it’s never fallen down.”

As if to punctuate her words there came another rumble through the ground, and a few slivers of rock rattled somewhere in the darkness behind them.  

“…much,” she finished, a little lamely. 

“If you’re so worried, then why don’t we pick up the pace a bit?” Applejack suggested with a sly grin.  “Y’all been moving so slow for the last two miles.  Ah’m about ready to fall asleep.”

“Applejack, wait,” cried Twilight.  She began to regret coming on a hiking trip with two of Ponyville’s most athletic and competitive ponies.   Rainbow Dash was never one to turn down a challenge and for the meantime the threat of losing out to the farm pony had overcome her fear of the dark and earthquakes and she had sprinted off up the gentle incline. 

Twilight initially rushed after them, still panting from the exertion just at the pace they had been going.  She soon realised that neither of them had any means of producing light, and she smugly stopped and returned to a gentle trot, basking in the brilliance of the light spell she was casting.  Sure enough in another couple of minutes she found the other two standing around sheepishly. 

“Tired?” she asked smugly, head held high as she trotted past them.  She could pretty much hear them rolling their eyes, an action that usually didn’t come with sound effects. 

“Do you know where we are, Twilight?” Rainbow asked.  “Are we nearly at the end?”

“Five more minutes,” she replied.  “Not far now, at all.”

“You said that two miles back, sugarcube.”

“Well, if you two wouldn’t fool around so much, it would have been right, I expect,” she said, sticking her tongue out playfully.  Applejack huffed.

As it turned out at least another hour passed before they actually reached the station at the top of the incline.  It was only a service yard, but it was also the first time they had seen the stars since setting out half a day ago at the base of the tunnel.  Trains managed it much quicker.  Rainbow complained bitterly, saying she wished she had flown up and waited for them. 

“Why didn’t you, then?”

“It’d have got boring,” she said.  “Waiting for you.  Alone.”

“…in the dark, with monsters around,” Twilight finished for her, and Rainbow scowled. 

They walked the next mile to Canterlot in relative calm, it was nice to be out of the cold, muggy air in the tunnel and able to see the stars again.  Twilight was a little pensive, now they were so close to the famous city they could no longer deny that it was dark and different.  The life had gone from the place, the towers and spires and minarets no longer lit with magical fires or decorated for whichever festival was currently upon them. 

Twilight worried about it deeply.  If Celestia had been there then things would clearly be different.  There was no question about that.  She wouldn’t have let it fall into such a state.  It felt to her as if the whole population of the once-great nation had disappeared.

As they drew even closer she could see the damage that had been done, buildings flattened, huge parts of the walls crumbled and crushed, gaping holes filled with absolute darkness.  Twilight could feel her spirit being dragged down the closer they got.  Somehow she had hoped in her heart that they’d find at least a little bit of life here in Equestria’s capital city, a little spark in the centre of a country that seemed otherwise empty of ponies, but there seemed to be nothing. 

They walked in silence through the empty streets, stepping gingerly over the rubble and scattered rubbish.  A shrill wind blew through the alleyways and the smell of the old world was thick in the air.  Nopony had lived here in a long, long time. 

She was slowly coming to understand that somehow the rest of the world had moved on, without them, and something terrible had happened in that time.  After it all, they had simply been left behind.  In her heart she knew what she had done, but it was too hard to admit out loud quite yet and so she quelled the thought, pushing it down fiercely.  She wasn’t ready to think about that yet. 

“Twilight,” Applejack said as they trotted solemnly down one of the main thoroughfares, once a vibrant market in the day and beautiful nightspot in the evening, now just another crumbling ruin.  “The palace is the other way.”

“I know,” she said quietly.  “I have to see it.”

Applejack watched her for a while.  “Your old house?”

She nodded, not sure she could speak without her voice wavering.  There was a heavy weight in her stomach, pulling her down and making her feel a little sick.  

As they got closer and closer she broke into a canter and then a full gallop, sprinting fast down the last street until skittering to a stop, the loose cobbles under her hooves rattling in the dark.  Her horn flared brighter, illuminating the ruin before them.  The walls had crumbled, collapsing in on themselves, and the roof and floors above had followed suit.  The small garden her father had so carefully tended all her childhood had vanished, buried under weeds and crumbled stone.  

“Ah’m sorry, Twi,” Applejack was saying from somewhere that might have been a thousand miles away.   She barely noticed the warmth of her two friends as they stood beside her, a foreleg and a wing around her.  

“This is my fault,” she whispered.  “I did this.”

They shushed her, as she knew they would, but that didn’t change what she had done, her involvement in this terrible time. 

The three plodded on in an uncomfortable silence towards the palace.  Twilight’s head was down, and the others didn’t understand what she had done, nor how to help her. 

Even the palace, a place that once thrilled her, even as an adult, was now a reminder of a better time, something that couldn’t be reclaimed.  The steps up through the gardens were torturous, far harder then the climb through the tunnels had been, even though they were a fraction of the height.  Twilight trembled, she didn’t know what to expect, what would they find there?

“Twilight,” Applejack said as they stopped at the top of the steps, a short walk now from the front of the palace, the dark entryway almost inviting them in.  “We don’t know what we’re going to find in there.  Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

She nodded weakly.  

“You remember that we’re with you, alright?”

She smiled for their benefit, although she wasn’t sure how convincing she was.  “I’m fine.  We’ll get in, have a look around and see if we can find out what’s happened, then we’ll go back to Ponyville.  I’m sorry to have dragged you out here, it would seem it’s be a wasted journey.”

“That’s the second time in the last few hours that name, plucked from the very depths of time, has been mentioned,” the doorway said in a low, sonorous voice that reverberated in the cool night air.  

All three stopped immediately and Rainbow looked about ready to run for it. 

“Don’t be afraid, my little ponies.  Come on inside,” said the same voice, soft but powerful, commanding.  

“Hello, Twilight,” said another voice, much smaller and quieter this time.  She looked back at the doorway to see Riley standing in front of her, lit by a flaming torch he held high in one hand.  It seemed unreal, somehow.  He looked so calm, despite the terrifying voice from behind him.  He beckoned to her, and vanished mysteriously, melting back into the darkness. 

She swallowed hard and trotted forward.  Applejack followed a little way behind, and Rainbow Dash even further still.  Inside it was dim, but lit at the far end of the great hall by huge clusters of candles that threw a soft light over everything.  Riley stood in the pool of light with another pony lying comfortably on the floor next to him, tail swishing idly on the dusty marble.  Completely dwarfing them both, however, was the bulk of a dragon, sitting curled around his impressive hoard, the flames from the candles reflected in every polished scale. 

She gasped and fought the reflex to flee.  They’d faced down dragons before, they could do it again.  Nervously she stepped forward, every hoofstep loud and echoing in the giant hall.  

“Welcome, Twilight Sparkle,” said the dragon, a strange draconic smile on his face.  

Anything she was about to say evaporated on her tongue.  “How do you know my name?” she gasped. 

“How do you not know mine, might be a better question,” he said, sounding as hurt as a thirty-tonne dragon could.  

“What?” she said with a bewildered tone and glancing behind her for backup, but the other two were lurking by the entrance, some distance off.  “Please, mister dragon, I’m sure we can arrange some sort of deal if you would let your prisoners go.”

The dragon laughed and rose from his bed of gold with a tinkling sound.  Twilight stayed rooted to the spot, his gaze never left her as he moved toward her, low to the ground and as sinuous as a snake.  “Don’t you recognise me, Twilight?  Brighten your light, take a good look.  Still no?  Of course not.  Three hundred years has not been kind to this little assistant.”

“Spike?” she asked, not believing her eyes.  He was close now, and her light flared to illuminate his giant head, long and pointed muzzle almost close enough to touch.  He was the correct colour, a deep purple, accentuated with splashes of green down the centre of his muzzle and in the scales along his spine.  A long arched neck brought his head down to her height and he looked at her first with one eye, then with the other. 

“Spike!” she cried joyously, jumping forward to embrace the tip of his nose.  “I told them you were alive!”

Spike nuzzled her carefully, his head as large as her body.  “Oh, Twilight, it has been so very, very long.  I had almost forgotten what you looked like.”

Twilight sat back on her haunches and let out a deep sigh.  “So it is true.  We have been gone for…”

“Three hundred and eight years, yes,” Spike finished.  “Why, Twilight?  I thought you’d… died.  Everything had gone.”

“I made a mistake, Spike,” she said, tears in her eyes.  “I made a terrible mistake.”

“Sshh,” he soothed, the sound coming like the rushing of a mighty river, however soft he might have intended it.  “Where are the others?  I can smell two other ponies out there.”

Twilight called to them and they reluctantly came closer.

“It’s good to see you again, Applejack, Rainbow Dash,” Spike said as they approached.  He hunched down, trying to look as harmless as possible.  “I see you have found Philomeena, as well.”  He turned to the bird, hovering brightly behind Applejack, and gave a light chirp from somewhere deep in his throat.  The phoenix squawked in reply. 

“He says ‘thankyou’ for freeing him,” Spike said with a smile, turning back to the three ponies.

“I don’t believe it,” Applejack was saying, shaking her head.  For once she had taken her hat off.  Rainbow Dash just stood in silence, mouth ajar and staring openly. 

“You got big, Spike,” she said eventually.

“Yeah,” he said sheepishly, and Twilight could suddenly see the baby Spike she remembered so fondly.  “I guess three centuries will do that to a guy.”

There was a lot of chatter at once, and Twilight shushed them and made them sit down calmly before they continued.  Riley and Derpy came to join them, sitting a little way apart.  Spike’s head joined in with the group, the rest of him lost somewhere in the darkness behind them.  The occasional tinkling sound highlighted when he swished his tail in interest. 

“I think, Twilight, the first question is, ‘what did you do?’”

The unicorn sighed again.  “I think I know, now.  I took Ponyville out of time.  It’s a power that the alicorn princesses have.  It’s how Celestia controls the sun, she adjusts the speed of the passage of time here on Equestria.  I didn’t know I could do it, too.  It looks like I found out how, a few nights ago.  But, instead of simply slowing it, I stopped it completely, just in the local area.”

“That sounds plausible,” Spike said softly.  “There was nothing there, Twilight.  Every year I travel there, on the anniversary, to see if anything changes, but nothing ever does.  It was a black void, not even light could survive in there.  A great dome of nothing, in the middle of the country.  Nothing that went in would ever come out again.”

The dragon held up his right foreleg, and Twilight saw with a gasp that he was missing some fingers.  “I tried to get back in, of course, as soon as you’d cast your spell, but I couldn’t.  Nothing could.”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight began, but he waved her away. 

“It hasn’t hurt for hundreds of years.  Only the loss of my friends, that still hurt.  But finally you’re back!  Although, I can’t help but notice there’s only three of you.”

“The others are well,” she assured him quickly.  “Pinkie is doing whatever she usually does, Rarity and Fluttershy needed to stay behind at the hospital to help out.  Ponyville’s in a bad place right now, Spike.  There’s a lot of ponies hurt.”

“I remember,” he said sadly.  “Discord’s minions were inbound, including that big flaming dragon-thing he’d found, they’d been attacking the town for a few days before that.”

“It’s got worse,” Twilight said glumly.  “Although I think that might be a story for another time.”  

She looked around at her friends, gauging their reaction to the story so far.  Rainbow and Applejack looked interested but a little lost, occasionally glancing at each other, checking if the other was making any more sense of it.  Riley looked pained and tired, and Derpy seemed more interested in him than anything else.  He gave her a weak smile when he saw her watching.  She returned it before turning back to Spike, “how did you escape?”

“I don’t think I can exist out of time,” he said.  “Either you knew that and teleported me out just in time, or the universe itself knows it and popped me out.  All I know is that I ended up here, at the palace, back in the very room you hatched me, in fact.  I went straight back as fast as I could, of course, but it was too late by then.”

“I think the arrival of the humans broke my spell,” Twilight said, blinking away the dampness from her eyes.  “Without them we’d have been lost forever.”

Riley took the opportunity to join in with the conversation, and she was alarmed by the strained sound of his voice.  “That’s also quite plausible,” he said.  Twilight narrowed her eyes.  “Our warp technology, that is, the machines that let us jump between different worlds, it’s closely related to the passage of time.  It’s entirely possible your spell is the reason we appeared at your planet.  We were running away from an enemy at the time, but we were running blind.  Your world was a beacon in the darkness, and we locked onto it.  I bet my right hand that was your spell.”

The group was silent for a moment, the crackling of the old candles strangely loud in the old hall.  Derpy was watching Riley with deep concern, and Twilight narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to work out what was going on.  She wasn’t entirely sure why Derpy was even with him. 

“This is Celestia’s home,” Twilight eventually said, her burning desire to know what had happened finally overcoming her reluctance to actually find out.  “Where… where is she?”

The dragon sighed, resting his head on the floor and closing his eyes.  

“With Discord, and Luna, and several other minor gods.”

“Where’s that?” she asked, frightened of the answer.  She was a little annoyed to see Riley stroking Derpy’s mane soothingly.  The poor mare looked distraught and worried, but Twilight was sure he should be comforting her, instead.  After all, she was the one who had nearly ended the world.  And was that a tiny sensation of… jealousy, as well?  She shook her head and looked away.

“Gone, I’m afraid,” Spike replied.  “I don’t know why, exactly.  I think your spell did something to them, something I don’t understand.  It worked, driving Discord out, but it also drove out the other gods, too.”

Twilight stuttered, unable to comprehend.  She couldn’t have done that, it wasn’t possible.  Gods were immortal.  You couldn’t just poof them out of existence.  Celestia had been there for thousands of years, it was ridiculous to think that little Twilight Sparkle could have… incapacitated… her.

“I’m sorry if it’s hard to swallow,” Spike rumbled.  “It might not have been you directly.  Maybe they went of their own accord, or maybe it was something Discord did?  We can’t be sure.”

“What do we do?” she managed to get out.  She felt weak, her lower jaw trembled of its own volition.

“Try to restore some order,” Spike said slowly.  “You are the princess now, Twilight.  You may not be a goddess – yet – but it’s your duty to restore Canterlot to what it used to be.  You must take the throne, move the sun and stars and give hope and stability to the ponies in this land.”

Twilight giggled nervously, looking around surreptitiously for a way out.  A lock of hair broke lose from her mane and stuck up at an angle.  “I’m not the pony for this.  I can’t do it.  I’m not royalty!  I’m just… me.”

“You’re the element of magic, Twilight, ah can’t think of anypony better,” said Applejack.  

“And you’re kind of awesome, when you’ve not got your nose in a book,” Rainbow Dash added.  

“But I can’t rule a country!”

“For now we just need to save Ponyville,” said Applejack pragmatically.  “We can worry about the rest of Equestria once that’s safe.  If you want to repopulate the rest of the land you’re going to need those hard working folks, anyhow.”

“There are more ponies around than you think,” Spike told them, drawing a huge forearm through the air in a great arc.  “They’re scattered and a bit lost, but it’s not as bleak as you’re imagining.  They’re mostly by the coasts now, the heart of the continent has largely been deserted, timberwolves, changelings, and other things rule here now.  They just need safety and stability to come back to, and somepony to direct them.”

“Okay,” Twilight breathed, shaking her head.  “Let’s pretend that last bit’s going to happen to somepony else, and concentrate on the little things.”

“The Elements,” said Rainbow Dash.

Twilight nodded and turned to Spike.  “When I cast the spell, the Elements all vanished, too.  Do you know where they are?”

He shook his large head, disturbing the dust on the floor.  “I don’t know, I’m sorry.  They might have gone, too.  They’re immeasurably powerful artefacts, made by things far older and more powerful than any of us, even the alicorn sisters.

“I’ve had a lot of time to study the history of the Elements, Twilight.  There’s not been a lot for me to do, so for hundreds of years I’ve travelled the world seeking books and knowledge, most of it now accumulated here in this hall.  The alicorn sisters and the Elements were a particular interest of mine. 

“I think it’s likely they were cast away, their physical manifestations destroyed again.”

“Like when we first retrieved them?”

“Maybe,” he said.  “Although as I understand it they were simply hidden back then, not physically absent from this plane entirely.”

“What are you saying?”

“That I don’t think you should rely on their assistance this time,” he warned.  It was a sobering thought, there were few things more powerful than the Elements of Harmony.  Twilight knew a little of their history, they were spirits of the world, she and her five friends merely shared a link to them, an affinity that allowed the Elements a channel through which to act upon the physical world and the bearers a chance to steer their actions.

“The Elements are fragments of creation itself,” Spike said, resettling his bulk in the darkness with a tinkling of treasure.  “Pieces of the oldest magic left over when the world was new, pieces left behind to ensure a balance between the things that inhabit the planet.  They’re not alive, as such, but they are aware, and they follow their own rules and play their own game.  Perhaps this is their new idea of balance, maybe Ponykind has had its time, and now it’s the turn of another race?”

“That’s a very dark thought, Spike,” she said sternly, starting to lecture as if he was still the little baby dragon she remembered.  He chuckled darkly.

“I’ve had a long time to brood, Twilight, longer than you can imagine.  Forgive me.

“The Elements can be controlled, to an extent.  You special six can impose your will upon them, if you are strong enough.  At the very least they can be steered in the right direction.  But first, you need to find them, if you do mean to rely on them.”

“Where do we begin?” 

Spike shrugged, a ridiculous action for such a large creature.  “The problem is, I think, that if you were to find them now, you might not recognise them.  They probably won’t be in the form of torcs or tiaras any longer, they were simply beautiful pieces of work wrought by master jewellers of a bygone age, imbued with the spirit of the Elements and designed to hold them close to where it mattered, the heart.  And in your case, of course, your horn.”

“So you think they’ve been reabsorbed into the world?  What do your books say?  Where did they come from?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “There’s very little written about them.  Their true origins have been lost to time itself.  They existed in the form we knew them as for many hundreds of years, and the records just don’t go back that far.  Who knows what shape they took before that.

“If I had to hazard a guess, however, I’d say they’re maybe around here somewhere.  This rock on which the city is built is not natural, it has existed for longer than I know, but it doesn’t belong here.  It’s charged with magical energies that nopony has ever been able to understand.  The princesses adapted small parts of it and built Canterlot on top, but there’s an unending supply of mystery just under the surface.  My instinct is that, if they’re anywhere, they’re down there.”

“There’s caves down there,” Twilight said, nodding.  She uneasily remembered her time trapped down there with Cadence while the first changeling invasion took place.  “Huge ones, like a termite nest, sprawling forever.”

“Indeed, and those that ponies have explored are just the very surface.  Countless caverns and older civilisations are underneath, each layered on top of the other.”

“But we’d never find our way,” she said sadly.  “And we don’t have the time to just wander around.  Experienced explorers have spent lifetimes digging around already.”

Philomeena had been standing quietly, his fire barely glowing, and most of them had forgotten that he was even there.  He burned brighter now, spreading his wings and alighting.  He squawked at Spike, fluttering around his head.   Spike chirped back again, and some sort of conversation was taking place.  Twilight watched in amazement, she remembered the pet phoenix Spike had kept for a year when he was younger, before it left to be with its family.  She had no idea he was able to communicate, however. 

When he spoke to them again his voice was thick with excitement, and Twilight could suddenly see the same baby dragon she loved again, the real Spike underneath his wise and ancient appearance.  “Philomeena says he can lead you to Celestia.  She is here.”

“How?” Twilight asked, looking at the bird.  If it was true then stumbling across him in the hungry wood was a huge stroke of luck.

“He shares a very strong bond with her, I think,” he said, watching the bird.  “Celestia hatched him in the same way you hatched me, Twilight, and they’ve been together for millennia.  A phoenix is a very magical creature, more so even than me, it’s unsurprising he can feel her.”

“Then we should go right away!” Twilight said earnestly, rising to her hooves and hopping excitedly in place.

“I think you’ll have to go without me, I’m afraid,” Spike said with a sad smile.  He opened his huge wings a little way, stretching them from wall to wall, highlighting his enormous bulk.  “I’m too big, now.  I’ve not been able to fit down there for hundreds of years.”

“Oh,” she said, a little crestfallen.  

“I’m sure the others will go with you,” he said, looking at them in turn.  Applejack and Rainbow nodded enthusiastically, she’d have struggled to keep them away if she’d wanted to, she knew.  She looked at Riley hopefully, but he looked away, the ugly scratch over his face glinting in the candlelight. 

“I need to get back, my mission is done, and they need me back at the ships.”

Twilight looked sad, having him along would have made her happier, she felt safer with him around.  She also wanted desperately to introduce him to Celestia.  She also realised that if he left now then she would never see him again.  He would be long gone by the time they returned to the town.  “Please?”

“I suppose I have no real choice,” he admitted after a long pause and grimace.  “I wouldn’t be able to get back without your help.  It’s too far.  I’m afraid I’m not feeling my best right now.”

Derpy stood up protectively and glared at Twilight, the effect lessened somewhat by one eye glaring at something else.  She blinked a few times in frustration until they both aligned correctly.  “He needs to get back to his people.  He’s hurt.”

“What?” Twilight exclaimed, trotting over. 

“It’s okay,” he said quickly as she starting peering at him intently.  “I’m just feeling a bit unsteady.”

It didn’t take her long to find the bloodstain around the torn hole in his jacket and gently pulled it apart with her magic, stifling a gasp at the mess underneath.  The square bandage he had placed over the hole had soaked through, stained almost completely red now, with a sickly yellow smudge in the centre.  The visible skin around it was red and inflamed.  

“Why didn’t you say something!  What happened?” she asked, in a shocked whisper.  “Does it hurt?”

He ground his teeth as she poked at it very gently.  “Yes,” he managed, pulling his jacket back over it.  She withdrew her magic guiltily.  

“This is very bad,” she said, fidgeting on her hooves and worrying her lower lip.  “Very bad, indeed.”

He put on a brave face, setting his mouth in a firm line and glaring at her, but she could see the sweat on his skin and the tenseness in his neck muscles, borne from the pain he was trying to fight past.  There was no way he would make it back to Ponyville, she was sure, he looked pale and ill in the candlelight.  

“It looks infected,” she said, pulling the jacket away again, despite his feeble protestations.  She was aware she was beginning to panic again, an unsteady feeling in her legs and bubbling in her stomach.  “Badly.  You need treatment right away, Riley!  Normally there’s magic to help this, to clean out the blood, but I don’t know about humans.  Usually Sunbright’s Seventh Salve would do, but I’m afraid of side effects.  Hmm, maybe a combination, the standard Aetherfian treatment followed by the Seventh?  Morning Light’s Episensinali?  No, too many leylines, not enough time to tie them.”  Twilight paced, head down and horn still aglow, muttering to herself. 

“Some of Korigan’s later work was on spells for zoological care,” Spike said helpfully, turning ponderously away to his piles of books, Equestria’s largest surviving library by the looks of things.  Twilight followed him anxiously, her hooves ringing out around the hall.  

“Yes,” said Twilight eagerly, mind working quickly.  Spike pointed to books with his claw and before long she had a whole ring of them around her, spinning in the ghostly light of her magic.  “Yes, yes, Korigan’s work studied the effects of wide ranging spells across all mammals, usually less effective but safer for the untrained novice and applicable across the board.  A few minor modifications to her buffer spells and it should integrate with the seventh.  Brilliant, Spike!  You’ve kept to your studies, I see.”

“Riley!” she called excitedly, clattering back over to him.  He shielded his eyes from the brilliance of the light she was emitting.  She dropped the books unceremoniously behind her, and barely heard Spike sighing like he always used to when she would leave the library in a mess.  “I’ve got it!  It won’t cure you, but it should help.”

“Wait,” he said, holding up a hand.  “I’m not sure you should be…”

She ignored him, pulling the jacket apart again and concentrating hard on the multiple spells she had to cast at once, feeling the familiar tingle all over her as she drew magical energy from the charged air around her, letting it fall deep into her core before it came rushing up and up through her spirit, the torrent of potential and the thrill of casting new magic making her giddy.  She focused the spells, weaving them expertly into one perfect canvas before releasing them gently.  

It was as if she could feel the spells working on him, the magic coursing through his bloodstream, stripping away that which shouldn’t be there, bundling it up into little packages and crushing them into harmless mush, purifying everything.  She even applied a little repair work to the wound itself, magically stitching the worst of it together to lessen the bleeding.

Of course it wasn’t perfect, the spell had been severely limited to avoid accidentally damaging anything else, there were so many differences between the patient and the things the magic was designed to fix.  A lot of the sickness remained, but it was buying him some time at least, time to get him back to his people and their unbelievable machines. 

“There,” she announced, opening her eyes.  To her satisfaction he was looking down at the wound wordlessly as the redness was already starting to subside.  He was breathing easier, and he finally seemed to relax a little.  “Did it help?”

“Yes,” he said, sounding unsure.  “I mean, wow, I feel great.”

“Well, it’s not really that complicated,” she started explaining.  “It’s mostly based on the work of an eminent…”

Applejack tapped a hoof on the stone for her attention as she launched into a full ramble.   “Twilight, ah’m sure it’s very interestin’ and all, but perhaps you could explain it later?  After we’ve got through this mess.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she stammered, ducking her head slightly and hiding a bookish smile.  She gave a nervous laugh.  “I just get carried away, sometimes.  I think you should wait here, with Spike,” she said to Riley, trying to sound commanding and princess-y.  “It wouldn’t help you at all, crawling around dusty ruins with me.”

Riley stood, shakily, leaning heavily on Derpy once again, and Twilight wondered if she should try to help instead, but one look at how much trouble the athletic mail-mare was having supporting him gave her the impression she would just make a fool of herself and possibly hurt him even more.  

Spike led them slowly out of the palace and down through the decaying city, his footsteps surprisingly delicate despite his great size.  He barely fit down some of the streets, and the tips of his folded wings dragged along the walls of the buildings to either side, dislodging plaster and tiles with a noisy clatter. 

“Mister Dragon, please stop!” Derpy called forlornly from the back.  Twilight turned to see Riley slumped on the ground, gasping for breath again, a thin sheen of sweat over his skin.  

She rushed back to him and felt his forehead with the back of a hoof, he felt dangerously hot.  His eyes were unfocused and distant, and he barely seemed to notice she was there.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” she said rapidly, peering at his injury again.  It had returned to being red and sickly looking, and his skin was a deathly shade of white all over.  “His body is rejecting the magic, the structures I create can’t survive long enough to keep the infection at bay.”

She felt around the wound, and the skin there was even hotter.  He moaned in discomfort and she drew back, suddenly very afraid.  His condition was deteriorating by the second.  

“Spike, can you take him back to Ponyville?” she asked, looking up at her giant friend.  “You could fly there very quickly.  His own people could help him, I’m sure of it.”

“Twilight, I can’t fly that fast, I’m not built for speed.  It would take hours.”

“That’s too long,” she whined helplessly, her voice wavering.  “I don’t think he’ll survive.”

“Can you cast the spell again?” Derpy asked, chewing her lip anxiously and fussing over her new friend. 

“I can try, but the same thing will happen again and again.  I’d have to keep doing it over and over, and even then it might not be enough.  Maybe I could be a little less cautious and increase the strength a bit, but there’s many risks and other factors…”

“You can’t let him die,” the pegasus whispered sadly, nudging him with her snout.  “I promised I would bring him back.  I promised!”

Twilight blinked a few times to clear her mind, taking deep breaths and preparing the spells again.  This time there was little satisfaction in a job well done, she knew it was merely a stop-gap measure, extending his life by minutes at a time.

“Urgh, Twilight,” he said, finally seeming to notice her as he returned to the lucid world once more.  “I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

“It’ll be okay,” she said, forcing an artificial brightness into her voice that she certainly didn’t feel.  “You can come with me, and I’ll just keep renewing the wards, and we’ll get you back to your people afterwards, and they’ll fix you.  I can keep your condition from deteriorating.”

He swallowed hard, clearly still in some discomfort.  “I don’t think I can make it.  You would do better to leave me here.”

With some effort he sat up, resting one knee and leaning heavily on the other while Derpy fussed around him like a nurse.  He shrugged his backpack off, and Twilight helped him with her magic.  With an unsteady arm he gave it to Derpy, and she took it in her mouth.  “Remember, you said you’d take it back to Ponyville,” he said to her softly, holding her gaze.  “You mustn’t forget.”

“No!” she exclaimed, offering it back to him with wide eyes, realisation dawning.  “You will take it yourself, mister.”

He smiled weakly and pushed it away again.  “Then at least carry it for me.  I’m not sure I have the strength anymore.”

Derpy reluctantly allowed them to strap it around her back.  It sat between her wings, looking somewhat ridiculous on a pony.  The former mail-mare seemed undeterred, probably used to carrying strange shaped packages all day.  

“I hate to rush you,” Twilight said unhappily.  “But we should hurry.  The going will be slow with you injured.  We have to get Celestia and/or the Elements and get back to Ponyville before it gets worse.”

He got wearily to his feet and nodded.  Derpy announced she was coming, as well, and Twilight hid a mild scowl again, he was her human, and she could help him perfectly well, thankyou-very-much.  She knew that was a lie as soon as her subconscious had thought it.  She felt terribly helpless.

Spike led them on to an ornate building that once served as the entrance to a museum built on the site of an old crystal mine, nestled against the sheer face of the mountain above them.  Twilight vaguely remembered visiting as a young filly on a school trip, dull, grey days out listening to a very tedious teacher waffle on about the economics and politics of the gem supply to Stalliongrad or some other far-off place.

Behind it was an entrance to the top of the old mines, Spike informed them, but that was as far as he could go, he was far too large to even fit through the main door, let alone the actual mines behind.  He told them he would wait in the same spot for their return.  Twilight replied that they could be gone for a long time, and he pointed out that he had waited three centuries already, another few days was not going to be a trial.

Philomeena circled restlessly in the halls of the old museum, a bright spark in the darkness, casting a warm orange glow over the dusty artefacts and fixtures.  Twilight could see that a lot of the display cabinets were broken, their contents scattered or missing entirely.  She frowned, not wanting to imagine ponies sinking to the depths of looting.

Applejack broke them through a few doors at the back and into the darker recesses hidden under the museum.  The soft, ancient wood shattered with a sickening crunch under her kicks.  The phoenix led them down into the old mines, lit eerily from pods of glowing crystals that looked a little organic, as if they grew from the walls.  Old minecart tracks ran underhoof, dull and pitted now after centuries of neglect.  

As they dove deeper there was a sense that very few things had remembered about the place in a long, long time.  The unending caves and caverns lay unvisited and forgotten, still and empty, no hooves had echoed in their halls in many generations.  

Their layout was bewildering.  Twilight had long since given up trying to remember the countless twists and turns they’d taken, they had left the tunnels that the museum used well behind, and several ‘condemned’ notices had needed removing recently.  Philomeena seemed to know where he was going, or if he didn’t then he was hiding it very well behind confident turns.  She wished she could understand him when he twittered at her a few times.

Seeing Spike so big was something of a shock, she admitted to herself.  Although she had maintained he was alive and well to her friends she realised that in her heart she had very nearly given up hope.  Her heart ached when she thought of the hundreds of lonely years, years without her.  He had always been around for her, and now she had missed most of his life. 

Riley was struggling again, she noticed, and they called another rest stop for her to renew her spells.  Each time she cast it she was getting a little more experienced, at least, and he seemed to look a little better each time, perhaps with some more practise she would be able to help him recover properly, instead of just sticking a magical bandage on the problem.  She just wished she could do more, she felt shamefully impotent for a pony supposedly destined to become Equestria’s next ruler.

In the back of her mind she was also aware that the moment they returned to Ponyville Riley was likely to disappear, he had found the artefact he was looking for after all and there was nothing stopping the interlopers from leaving.  The thought brought her a deep sadness, and she wished she could spend more time with him, especially since the current circumstances were not the sort of quality time she was imagining.  When he was lucid he seemed reluctant to talk to anypony, and the rest of the time he simply shambled along in a vague daze, propped up by Derpy who fussed over him like a new mother.

It was hard to even keep a steady rhythm up in the twisting, uneven tunnels.  The floor sloped sharply in places and many areas had never been finished off properly, the raw edges of the rock ready to trip and often painfully sharp on their hooves.  A few occasions had involved scrambling down rockfalls, slithering and slipping from one boulder to another in the dark while Riley would curse softly under his breath in his own language.  While she couldn’t understand him the essence of whatever he was saying was quite clear.

In a few places the tunnel roof had partially collapsed, leaving them with an excavation job and a difficult clamber over the fallen stone, a thousand tiny crystals each glittering in the etheric light from her horn, just another obstacle to their path.  The going got slower and slower, and she became more and more frustrated. 

They stopped for a longer break after many hours, resting on the sloping floor of a cavern that stretched up above them to unseen heights.  Their voices, soft as they were, echoed on and on, and any loud sound made the space ring like a bell.  It was difficult to make out the true extent of the cave, but Twilight thought it didn’t sound so large.  In the darkness a thousand tiny lights twinkled and glimmered, little phosphorescent crystals in the rock, each possessing a tiny glimmer of magic of their own, left over from when the world was born, some believed.

She poked around on the ground, looking for a dry spot.  The deeper they had gone the wetter everything seemed to have become, even to the point where a few times they had been forced to splash through small puddles and had avoid a yet another new hazard: slippery stones.  

Nopony had escaped without some bruised shins from kicking stones and there were more than a few cuts and scrapes after somepony had lost their footing and gone slithering down an incline in the dark.  Derpy was limping particularly badly.  She watched Riley stroking the soggy pegasus’ fur soothingly with his deft fingers and she forced down another small flash of envy that grew deep inside.  It had taken her days of pestering to get him to accept her friendship, yet he seemed to have had no reservations with the newest addition to their group.  She looked away bitterly, the dark path her thoughts were taking was not healthy, and certainly not helping their current predicament.

Philomeena flew in circles up above them, calling softly as if chastising them for stopping.  Rainbow Dash was grumbling to herself, having learnt not to complain too loudly anymore after everypony had told her in no uncertain terms to stop whining at least once.   

Twilight finally found a comfortable spot and sat down, resting her sore, tired hooves.  The others sat around her on their own dry patches, keeping close for the light she was producing.  Applejack had brought an old oil lantern they had found in the museum, but it had very little fuel and she was keeping it in case of an emergency.

“I didn’t think it would be this far,” she told them apologetically.  “Philomeena, is it much further?”

The bird cooed back to her from up above, a useless response.  He probably couldn’t understand them, and they certainly couldn’t understand his replies.  Twilight sighed and levitated a piece of soggy biscuit from her saddlebag and nibbled on it.  Around her she could hear the others doing the same.

“I’m sorry about this,” she said to Riley.  His reply was a grim smile, twisted by pain.  She looked away guiltily, feeling as if she had dragged him down there.  If only she had taken more time to learn about their physiology, maybe there would have been something she could do.  The humans had learnt about theirs, afterall, they had helped Rainbow Dash, almost miraculously, and many of their medicines and machinery had helped out at the Ponyville hospital to great effect.

“It’s not your fault,” he said.  “I appreciate the effort you’re putting in to help me, although I worry that you’re wasting your energy.”

Twilight looked at him in confusion and he fixed her with a baleful gaze.  “I don’t think I’m getting out of here, Twilight.  Promise me you’ll help Derpy get my pack back to the others?  They’re relying on it.  Can’t let all this have been for nothing.”

“Don’t be silly,” Twilight said on reflex, and she realised she was grinding her teeth a little.  She forced herself to relax.  “You’ll be fine.  It’s under control.  We’ve got a working system, and I’m getting better at it all the time!”

“I appreciate the encouragement,” he said, very quietly, and Twilight’s heart began to pound uncomfortably hard in her chest again.  “But I think we all know that’s not the case.  Coming down here has been nearly impossible, every step has been agony.  There’s no way I’m getting back up there.  I just can’t do it.”

“I’ll carry you myself, if I have to,” she said, almost pleading.  There were some murmurs of agreement from around.  He smiled sadly, and she knew that if it came to it she wouldn’t really be able to.  She was not built for strength.  Maybe if they all took turns they could manage it, with exceptional luck, but even then it was highly unlikely.  It was all they could do to get themselves down the dangerous tunnels without getting hurt, getting back with such a burden would be impossible.  Their only hope was that they could somehow find Celestia and return her to the world, maybe she could get them out.  It was a long shot, a very long shot.  They had no idea what the situation was, or if they were even going to be able to find her.

“We should get moving again,” she announced, and the others groaned.  It had not been all that long since they started their short break.  “We need to make the most of the time we’ve got.”

The next hour passed slowly and they didn’t make anywhere near as much progress as she was hoping.  They had come to yet another blockage and she angrily tossed rocks out of their way, shunting them with far more magic than was necessary.  The sound of splitting rock echoed down the long tunnels, bouncing up into the galleries above their heads and coming back seconds later.  Somewhere in the distance an almighty crash rumbled through the air and ground, a length, drawn out, shuddering sound.

“Whoa, there, Twilight,” Applejack said, looking up at the rocky ceiling above them with alarm.  “Ah don’t want to be buried down here.”

She felt a touch on her shoulder and turned to see Riley watching her with a worried expression.  “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said, and she sagged visibly, everything was going wrong.  Nopony – nobody – should get left behind, if they could only get to Celestia, she could solve everything…

“I’m feeling better,” he said, giving her a bright smile.  “Just take it carefully.”

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, he didn’t look any better, and she felt sure he was just saying so to try and calm her down.  She had little time to question him however, as Applejack shouted out in alarm, “water!”

She stopped and listened, and sure enough there was a distant sound coming down from somewhere up ahead, a low, threatening rumble with an undertone of hissing, rushing water.  It was getting rapidly loudly, and the thin trickle of water running down one side of the gallery they were in was rapidly growing in size.  Very quickly it had overflowed its small channel and was swirling around her hooves.  Her ears popped, as if she had just descended quickly in her balloon.  

“Run!” yelled Applejack, darting back the way they had come with a clatter of hooves on stone.  The others were running with her, Twilight following as the water rushing around her feet threatened to knock her down.  Derpy was half airborne, half scrabbling as she pulled Riley along with her just in front.  Behind them the roaring of a large amount of water had grown deafeningly loud and Twilight found herself slipping in the white foam at her hooves, suddenly carried along, spinning and swirling as the water pulled her about like a leaf in a mountain river, battered by small fragments of rock rushing by.

Applejack had managed to scramble up onto a higher ledge, almost out of the water and was hanging on with her strong legs as she called out to them.  She heard Rainbow Dash shout out as she collided with a rocky outcrop, unable to fly properly in the dark, tight space.  There was a splash, barely audible and Applejack was calling out to her, stretching a limb out to catch the pegasus as she was swept by.  Twilight tried to grab on as well but missed, and there was no fighting the powerful pull of the torrent around her to go back.  There wasn’t any time to recover, and within seconds her friends were out of view, no sign of them other than a forlorn cry, barely heard over the cacophonous sound that filled her world.

Twilight looked around frantically, desperately trying to stabilise herself in the water and avoid the rocks that loomed out of the dark.  She inhaled more water with every panicked gasp she took, her head ducking under the water as she tumbled, body aching with an urgent need for air.   She had never been a strong swimmer, and this was well beyond her abilities.

Riley, Derpy and Philomeena were nowhere to be seen, and she called their names with increasing desperation, spluttering as she spun in the water, completely disorientated.  Her world was in chaos, she couldn’t even tell which way was down, and the deafening sound was drowning out her voice and her thoughts.  Her light faded, flickering fitfully as she lost concentration. 

She was going to die, she realised, alone and so far away from everypony.

Suddenly there was a pressure on her leg and something caught her, spinning her around violently and holding her against the onslaught of the water.  She struggled to the surface, kicking with her hind legs until something else caught her.  A strong limb was wrapped around her barrel, holding her tightly.  She rekindled her light and nearly sobbed when she saw Riley and Derpy right beside her, the human holding her against his chest, impossibly strong arms keeping her steady.  She gratefully hooked her forelimbs around his neck and he held her out of the worst of the water as she choked and coughed up what was in her lungs.  

“The water’s rising,” Riley yelled into her ear, barely understood over the crashing water.  “We’re in an air pocket, can’t stay here.”

“I can’t swim!” she told him, crushing him tighter in her panic.  The world was still spinning and she was breathing too fast, beginning to hyperventilate.  “I’ll drown!”

“I won’t let you,” he said firmly, squeezing her to remind her he was there.  “Just keep your light on.  Close your eyes and keep hold of me.  I need my arms.  Derpy, keep close.  Take a few deep breaths and hold it, we go on the count of three.”

Twilight tried to calm down and do as he said, holding her last breath so full that she feared her lungs might burst.  With a sickening lurch he pushed away from the wall they were hanging on to and back into the maelstrom of swirling water.  She kept her eyes squeezed shut and hung on tightly as he pulled her along with him, her light burning bright to guide their way.  Derpy was following closely, one foreleg hooked around his chest on the other side and wings working deftly in the water to stabilise them both.  

Twilight risked cracking her eyes open to look around as they bounced from one side of the cavern to the other, Riley guiding them expertly between handholds and sheltered eddies.  Derpy looked strangely calm under pressure, and her eyes were both clear and pointing in the same direction for once.  Twilight ground her teeth together again, not caring if it made her look like a madmare.

She felt a shock as they collided with the tunnel wall, and Riley grunted as he absorbed the impact, sheltering her from it.  At the same time the timbre of the sound was changing, the crashing, turbulent waves giving way to a slightly different sound.

“Falls!” cried Derpy over the roar, and Riley acknowledged her and indicated another haven as the gallery widened out, the flow of water behind them subsiding a little and allowing a short respite.  Twilight dared open her eyes completely, taking deep breaths now she could see it was safer.

Off to the side the water dipped and vanished into a dark abyss, the surface slick and shiny.  “Twilight, more light?”

She grunted and flared the light brighter, throwing deep shadows into the cracks and openings high above them.  They appeared to be in another wide gallery, the ceiling stretching far up high.  Many tiny openings looked back at them, dark and much too small to squeeze into, even if they could get all three of them out of the water and airborne somehow. 

“I don’t see any way,” Derpy said, looking around.

“No idea what’s over those falls,” he said, panting hard.  His voice dripped with reluctance as they drifted nearer and he shook his head.  “Very bad idea.”

Twilight swallowed nervously, all of a sudden she saw where they were going, and it wasn’t a nice thought.  She held on tightly as Riley took them over the falls, plunging down and down into the empty space beyond as her stomach fell away underneath her.   She screamed as they fell for what seemed like a lifetime.  Every nerve in her body willed her wings to open, but sheer terror incapacitated her. 

All of a sudden they were underwater, first hitting the surface with a smack that knocked the breath out of her.  Immediately Riley was pulling them upwards with powerful strokes of his arms, kicking hard and she gasped for breath again as they broke the surface.  Derpy was nearby, treading water like she had been born in it. 

She looked around, brightening her light more and more until it wouldn’t go any further.  Still she couldn’t see the walls or ceiling, they were floating in the middle of a large expanse of water, relatively still apart from the ripples radiating out from their plunge and the falling column of water nearby.  

The water was frigid and she could feel her limbs going numb.  Riley had wrapped an arm around under her forelegs again and gently persuaded her to let go of his neck, turning her in the water until she was facing away from him.  He swam backwards, pulling her gently with him, carefully keeping her head above the water.  She was certain she felt something brushing against her legs, long and sinuous and she trembled, afraid of everything.  It was like some frightful nightmare she couldn’t wake up from.

It seemed like an age passed before she saw the blessed reflection of her light from a rocky wall, and soon there were stones under her hooves in the water and they were scrambling up a shore of sorts, loose pebbles clattering underhoof.  Riley fell back against the stones, half sitting, half lying, breathing heavily.  She could feel his heart beating hard against her back.

She lay panting in Riley’s arms, leaning back against him.  He was warm, despite the freezing water, and the strong embrace he held her in was safe and calming.  He stroked her soaked mane, brushing it back from her eyes tenderly.  She realised she was shaking all over, uncontrollable shivers that shook her entire body, and would be sobbing if she wasn’t so afraid.  He was making soothing noises, words that she didn’t understand and didn’t care to.  His closeness was all she needed at that moment and she huddled against him.

Derpy was shaking herself off nearby, looking around with interest at their new surroundings.  There was little light, except what Twilight was producing and the glimmer from a few crystals high above them, protruding from a rocky bulge.  Ripples from the water lapped at the rocks, sloshing softly.  In the distance they could still hear the roar of the waterfall, splashing down into the subterranean lake, the sound thin and strangely distorted by the huge underground space.

Riley was carefully disentangling himself from Twilight, and she tried to avoid resisting, as much as she wanted to stay there.  “We need to move on,” he said calmly.  “It’s not safe.  The waterfall’s woken something in the water.”

She sat up with a jolt, remembering the slithering feeling around her legs.  The water lapped at the shore innocently, little ripples from some disturbance, or maybe just from their earlier passage.  Derpy led them up the shore until they were a good twenty paces from the water’s edge and up against sheer rocks.  Twilight searched the lake nervously, shining her light brightly.  She convinced herself she could see shapes just under the surface, loops of sinuous bodies undulating across the surface, although in reality she could see nothing at such an oblique angle.

Nothing tangible appeared, only the ripple of the water.  “That was frightful.  I thought we’d had it, for sure,” she said at length.

“Promised I’d keep you afloat,” he said with a smile, ruffling her soggy mane.   

“Where are we?” said Derpy, flying a little way above their heads and peering into the darkness.  “There’s a tunnel up here.”

Twilight sniffed at the air, cold and stale.  There was no breeze at all, everything was perfectly still.  There was something nagging at her, however, and she cast about with her magic, exploring the leylines nearby and following them as far as she could see.  There was something nearby, something magical, something big.  

“There’s magic here,” she said, curiosity and interest helping distract and calm her at last.  “Something huge.  I can feel its power, the magical structures that drive it are all around us.”

“Is it what we’re looking for?  Can you find it without the bird?” Riley said, sitting down on a large boulder and pulling up his torn jacket to inspect his wounds.

Twilight inhaled sharply as she remembered how ill he was, in all the excitement and terror of the moment she had forgotten, and now she felt ashamed.  It was amazing that he had been able to do all of that when he was knocking on Death’s door, humans really were fascinating creatures, strong until the very last. 

His bandages were soaked, the blood had leached from them turning them a sickly pink colour.  The skin underneath was pale, far too pale.  The wound itself had stayed mostly closed, although as she watched she could see fresh blood welling up from within.  She hastily cast her spells again, fortifying whatever effects still remained.  The adrenaline from the wild ride was starting to wear off, and he was in pain again. 

“Which way, Twilight?” he was saying, tapping on the side of her neck to gain her attention.  She focused on him, finishing the spells.  He looked unbearably tired again, worn out and exhausted.  “Where do we go?”

“I…” she looked around, trying to reconcile the magical sensations with the physical layout of the world, most non-magic users, and even many unicorns, didn’t realise that the two worlds were completely different shapes.  The leylines didn’t look the same, at all, and it was very hard to follow them in the physical plane.  “I’m not sure.  Down the shore, this way, I think.”

A sudden sloshing caught her attention and she snapped her head around, shining her light against the shoreline.  Her heartbeat had increased twofold almost immediately and she felt a little dizzy.  There were a couple of larger waves coming, splashing against the stones with wet slapping sounds. 

“There’s no time,” he said suddenly, jumping to his feet and pulling her up with him as if she weighed nothing.  “Derpy, where does the tunnel go?”

“A long way!” she called back.  

“Good enough.  Twilight, fly up.”

She tore her gaze away from the water and looked up, it was only a short flight, but her wings were soaked and heavy, and her confidence shattered right now.  She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned back to see something long and black working its way towards them.   She gave a quiet scream, and another shot out of the water, writhing up over the rocks towards the sound of her voice.  

“Go!” Riley shouted at her, leaping forwards and distracting the mysterious, wriggling tentacle.  A short knife had appeared in his hand and he was standing in a crouch, watching the things carefully as they snaked towards him, all the while stepping cautiously backwards.  

Suddenly she felt strong hooves grabbing her sides, pulling her wings open, and she looked up to see Derpy tugging at her.  “Come on, Miss Librarian!”

She took to the air, shaky and unsteady on her cursed wings.  Underneath her the human had dodged a thrust from one of the tentacles, and she could see a third slithering towards him.  Each one was tipped with a sharp point, glittering white in the bright light from her horn.  

As the limb missed him by a hair’s breadth he turned and locked an arm around it, twisting his entire body and bringing his full weight down on it.  Like a sprung trap his other arm brought the knife plunging down into the fleshy tube, tearing and sawing at the tough hide.  A sickly black liquid pumped out of it and the appendage thrashed wildly, drawing back into the pool with a splash.  

Riley turned to face the next one, but both were coming at him.  He narrowly ducked the first and took the second flat across his back, knocking him forwards with a grunt.  He fell across the rocks, losing his footing on the slick surface and stumbling.  His fall was the only thing that saved him as the point of the second tentacle clattered off a rock where his head had been. 

On his back he kicked out fiercely, knocking the other away with a meaty thud, again and again as it lunged at him with lethal intent.  Somewhere down on the shore there was a grinding of stones and a muffled, gurgling growl of frustration.  Twilight turned her light towards it, still struggling to stay alight.  There was an amorphous blob of something working its way up the stones, a sharp beak snapping in the middle of the mass and four or five thick tentacles propelling it from behind as it fought with Riley. 

He had got his knife back into another tentacle and was struggling to remove it, hanging on as it thrashed and bucked, pulling him with it and actually helping him to his feet.  With a cry he let go of the knife, losing it to the monster.  Now unarmed it looked as though he was in serious trouble and Twilight finally snapped out of her daze and flapped across to hover above the monster’s head, kicking at its beady black eyes with her hooves. 

It howled in anger and brought a tentacle at her with alarming speed.  Through some sort of instinct she didn’t know she possessed she managed to knock it to one side with her hindlegs, kicking off it to gain a little height and easily dodging the second swipe.  Derpy had taken her chance and dived down to Riley, grabbing him unceremoniously by the back of the jacket and heaving him up and out of harm’s way with a strained grunt.  

Twilight shot across to them, barely stopping in time to avoid colliding with them.  She took his legs, helping take a little of his weight from Derpy.  Between them they managed to get him up to the opening she had found, dumping him heavily on the rocky floor.  

“What kind of world do you live in,” he was saying, gasping for breath, not moving from where he was sprawled.  Down below there was an angry squealing from the squid-thing as it flailed against the rocks below, unable to climb.  “Everything here tries to kill me.”

“It’s not normally like this,” Twilight said hastily.  “It’s Discord.  He’s unsealed Tartarus.  All the dangerous, bloodthirsty things in the world used to be trapped in there, free to fight amongst themselves in another world far, far from ours.  But now they’ve been free for three hundred years.  Even the intelligent monsters that used to remember the rules have forgotten.  For instance, the roc you encountered should have known it can’t eat ponies.  Or humans, I suppose.  They’re not usually that barbaric, but nopony has taught them.”

Derpy came trotting back over to them.  “I’ve found a light,” she said, blinking at them slowly.  “It’s really pretty.”

“What?  How are you so calm about all this?” Twilight demanded, exasperated.  

Derpy looked taken aback and shrunk back from Twilight, looking down at her hooves as if she had done something wrong.  “My father used to tell me that there’s no use getting worked up about things you can’t change.  You just have to get on with life.”  She nodded, as if that was all there was to the matter, and Twilight stared at her in silence. 

“But you nearly drowned,” she stated flatly.

“No, I didn’t,” she responded, somewhat pragmatically.  “You nearly drowned.  I can swim very well.  I go swimming every day.  I can hold my breath for ages.”

“Where next?” Riley asked, interrupting before Twilight could get any more worked up.  She glared at Derpy, she had no right to be so good at all this, not after she broke everything in sight back at home. 

“Well, I’m not going back there,” Twilight said with a shudder.  The wet slapping sound of the monster’s tentacles was still echoing around from time to time.  “So, onwards, I suppose.  What’s this light, Derpy?”

They followed the pegasus a little way up the tunnel, and Twilight noticed that the walls were regular now, no longer the uncut stone of the higher tunnels.  In places she could see patterns, intricate carvings of shapes and symbols from a language she didn’t even recognise, let alone able to understand.  They were a long, long way underneath Canterlot now, some of these bits must be many millennia old.

Derpy was peering through a crack in the wall, a crack through which a soft blue light filtered, soft and gently pulsating like a giant heartbeat.  Twilight peered through with interest, whatever it was had to do with her earlier feeling, many strong magical fields flowed through the area, the rock and air was saturated with it.  

“Stand back,” she said, picking up a large boulder with her magic and preparing to throw it at the thin stone wall.  It piled through with a crash that echoed on and on and on.  The squid thing screeched, thankfully behind them, although Twilight was worried about where they would go next.  They certainly weren’t going back the way they had come, but who knew what other horrors lay down in the depths?  Maybe this was a case of better the enemy you knew than the one you didn’t.

When the dust had cleared and the rattle of falling stones had died away they stepped through into the room beyond.  Twilight was pleased to note that this actually was a room, not just a water-worn tunnel through the rock.  The edges were square, with plenty of pleasing geometric shapes in the architecture.  That meant that ponies (she hoped) used to come down here, and that in turn meant there must be a way in and out somewhere. 

The glow was coming from an opening in the far end of the room, still throbbing invitingly, soft and warm despite its blue colour.  She let her light go out, there was enough to see by now.  Beams of cyan light shimmered in the clouds of dust that hung in the air, kicked up by Twilight’s overly enthusiastic entry.  Riley was leaning against a wall, hunched over slightly, in pain again.  Twilight sighed and rubbed at the base of her horn, the constant use of magic since they started their descent into the mountain was giving her a terrible ache. 

“I don’t think it’s much further now,” she said to him softly as his laboured breathing returned to normal.  “I have a good feeling.”

“I’m glad,” he said.  Twilight hid the frown that tried to creep onto her face, he may still have had a funny accent but she had known him for long enough now that she could tell when he was being insincere, and this felt like one of those moments.  The way he seemed to have resigned himself to death was deeply upsetting, she felt as if she was having to carry hope for the both of them, and that seemed very unfair.

“Before I came down here, after our meeting with your admiral, I was very upset, and I wanted to give up.  Applejack gave me a talking to and told me that I had to stop moping.  She was right, you know.  And you should stop moping, too.  Never give up!”

“I’m not ‘giving up’,” he nearly growled at her.  “I’ve done everything I came here to do.  I’ve got the warp core, and I’ve kept you alive thus far.”

“But you’re giving up on going home,” she said, looking away.  

“Not really, I’d very much like to, if I can.  But the odds are poor.  It’s simple probabilities.  

She frowned, his logic was correct, but it was an awful way to live one’s life, judging everything on the mathematical chance of success.  

“I’m sorry I said it in the first place, I didn’t know you’d take it to heart so badly.  I’m just being pragmatic.”

“You’re being silly,” she said stubbornly.  “When we find Celestia she’ll be able to get you back, or fix you, or something.  I don’t know.  But you can’t just give up, Riley.”

“That’s putting a lot of faith in a god that’s been missing for three centuries,” he pointed out.  “Assuming, of course, that this whatever-it-is you’ve found is actually her.”

“Well, why don’t we find out?” she said, pulling him away from the wall and towards the doorway.  Derpy was nosing at a dusty bowl on a low stone table against one wall.  It looked as if it might have had some fruit it in once upon a time, but now there was just a small mound of shrivelled grey, practically petrified things, unrecognisable after so long under the thick blanket of dust that covered everything. 

“This way!” she called, trotting ahead of them.  Riley called out to her to be careful, and Twilight was inclined to agree, their encounter with the beast in the water proved that things were still alive down here, even after so very long.  Things they had never seen before.  

They rounded a corner and found themselves on a balcony opening into a great hall.  Two staircases curved off to the sides, coming to face themselves again at the bottom.  Immense carved pillars ran along the length of the hall, holding up the vaulted roof high above them.  The light was produced by a great portal of some kind at the far end, raised on a pedestal and surrounded by ornate carved figures and low altars, the surface glowing so brightly it appeared white.  The light from it illuminated every corner of the room.  A very old carpet was underhoof, crumbling as soon as they stepped on it and producing little puffs of strange smelling dust.  On the walls hung the shreds of old tapestries, mostly torn down by their own weight to lie in crumpled heaps along the edges of the hall.  Stained glass windows lined the walls, although what they looked out onto was anypony’s guess. 

Derpy hopped up onto the edge of the balcony and then jumped off, gliding down to the floor below in a lazy spiral.  Twilight and Riley took the stairs, the human leaning heavily on the banisters for support.  Twilight rushed over to the portal with barely contained excitement, she had never seen one so large before.  It towered above her, at least ten times her height and just as wide.  

She had seem similar things before, of course, and had even made small ones herself, large enough to drop a pebble through, but the amount of magical energy required to keep something this large open was almost unimaginable, at least to her.  The very air around it seemed thick and excitable, strung tight like a lyre string, humming with arcane energies. 

The downdraft from Derpy’s wings ruffled her fur and sent tiny little flecks of prismatic light flashing across the surface of the magical gateway as the pegasus hovered beside her, peering into the portal.  

“What is it?  Is it the princess?”

“No, silly,” Twilight said, prodding it gently with her magic.  “It’s a portal, but different to one I’ve ever seen.  I’ve no idea where it goes.”

“There’s muffins in there,” Derpy said slowly, sounding a little distracted.  “It goes to muffins!”

Twilight stared, there was nothing there.  “I don’t trust it,” she said, but it was too late, Derpy had already reached forward with a foreleg.  With a soft hissing sound she vanished in a flash of blue light.  Twilight jumped back in alarm, just in time for Riley to catch up with her.  

“Where does it go?” he demanded in a strained voice.  

“I don’t know,” she replied axniously, another worry to add to her collection.  “It could be anywhere, it might not even be a portal at all.  Let’s keep calm and think about this rationally, what would it be doing down here?  Why is it so large?”

“Rational, my ass,” he snapped, and Twilight realised with a shock that he was incredibly angry, an emotion she hadn’t really seen from him yet.  “She’s got the goddamn core.”  

She shrunk back from him a little, he was a little scary, face twisted in an angry scowl and breathing hard through his nose.  “She said she saw muffins,” she began.

“I don’t give a – a something – what she saw.  I can’t fail this now.  Not when we’re so close.”  He snarled something furious in his own tongue.  “I should have just made her fly straight back, not drag her down here on this ridiculous trip, just to look after an invalid.  I’m an idiot.”

“It’s not a ridiculous trip,” Twilight said quietly, affronted.  “This is important.  Celestia is our ruler.  We must find her.”

“She’s got precious little left to rule over!” he snapped back. 

“It’s every bit as important to me as getting your thingy back.  In fact, I’d go so far as to argue that this is more important.  We need Celestia to put an end to this mess.  You just need your bag so that you can run away, when you could have a much better life by just staying.  There’d be no war here.”

“It’s not running away,” he growled.  “We go to save lives.  That’s our job and duty.  Furthermore, you wouldn’t appreciate us staying.  I know you’ve got some deluded idea that you can domesticate us all and convince us to spend our time playing under rainbows and eating cakes and spreading love, but I can tell you for free, we don’t work like that.  I’d give it a couple of years before you find you need something considerably stronger than Tartarus to hold us.” 

“You do yourself a disservice,” she said, stamping a hoof.  “I’ve seen your caring side, you can’t pretend you don’t have one.  You’re the same as us, inside, you’ve just had a hard time, and you can’t see that there is good in the world.”

“I’m having a hard time, right this very moment,” he snapped.  She wilted under his angry gaze, cowering down.  Maybe he was right and humans had an unstoppable dark side.  It was as if a switch had been flicked, and the Riley she thought she had been getting to know had simply vanished, replaced by something much darker that wore the same skin.  

Her distress must have been plain to see.  He pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to look away, closing his eyes with a deep sigh.  “I’m sorry, Twilight.  I’ve not had a good day.  I know this is important to you, but I suggest we drop this subject until later.  

“Can you find out where the portal goes, or should I just jump in and hope for the best?”

“No!” she said hastily as he took a step towards it.  “No, that would be unwise.  Just give me a few minutes to investigate.  Please.  It’s complicated.”

He crouched down nearby, giving her a respectable distance to work.  She closed her eyes, feeling around the area for magical influences she might recognise.  Many years of study underneath Celestia had left her with a very good sense of the princess’ magical imprint, and she was fairly certain that neither Celestia, nor Luna, had built this thing.  That was surprising as she wasn’t aware of any historical figures who could have outperformed them.

Celestia had been here, however, or was still here in some way.  The familiar feeling of her magic, which Twilight had always associated with rich cream, was tangible around her, wisps of it tangled around nearby leylines, like tufts of sheepswool snagged on a prickly bush.  She followed them eagerly, more than a little lost in the wild magical flux from the portal, an onslaught of power that left her drunk with the chaotic, raw powers.

“We’re very close,” she murmured, and when she opened her eyes again they were glowing white hot, twin searchlights that almost overpowered the light from the portal.  Riley fell back in surprise, watching her a little fearfully.  “The power from this gateway is beyond words, I can see everything.”

“Twilight, are you okay?” he asked.  “Are you with me?”

“Yes,” she replied simply.  “They’re buried, much, much deeper.  At the very root of this mountain, many miles down.”

“Derpy?”

“I think she’s with them, although her magic is negligible and hard to see against the glory of Celestia and Luna.”  She paused.  “…and… him.”

“Him?”

“Discord is down there, too,” she said with a gulp.  When she next blinked the power had dispersed and her eyes had faded back to their familiar deep purple.  Riley visibly relaxed.  

“How do we get there?” he asked, climbing painfully to his feet.  

“I think the portal leads to a prison of sorts,” she said.  “A place like Tartarus, but much more specific, separate fields for each, um, inmate.  I wonder… I wonder if I sent them all there, when I cast my spell.  I can almost remember it, but not enough to be sure.  I used the Elements somehow, their power is beyond even the goddesses.  With their potent energy perhaps I could have done this.  The princesses possess the power to banish one another, it stands to reason I might also have inherited that, I just needed the power source.”

“You imprisoned a god?”

She swallowed nervously.  “Not just one.  Three gods.”  She turned her head up to the ceiling, fighting back the sense of panic that rose hotly in her throat.  “Oh, Celestia, you should never have given me this power.  I was not ready.”

Riley seemed unconcerned.  “If you locked them up, then you must have the key to unlock them again,” he argued.  “Can you do it?  Can you bring them back up here?  And Derpy?”

She could see the words he really meant to say.  “And your precious satchel?  No, not from here.  We’re going to have to go down there.  And the only way is through the portal.  I suspect, although I don’t know for sure, that it’s pointing at Discord right now.  He’s up to something, I can’t think of any other reason why Derpy would see muffins otherwise.  She loves the wretched things.”

“This guy is the cause of all these problems, right?”

“Yes, he unleashed Tartarus and set them on us.  He is wicked beyond forgiveness.”

Riley chewed at his lip, shaking his head slightly.  His expression had softened significantly.  Twilight spotted a valuable opportunity to needle him.  “There, I can see your softer side that you insist you don’t have.  You’re worried about Derpy, as well as your mission, aren’t you?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again straightaway, then sat in silence, a look of deep contemplation on his face.  At last he spoke, “she has a kid,” he said, then looked directly at her, his gaze steady.  “Waiting for her, back home.”

“Yes, she does,” Twilight said, feeling a little smug, the softer side was showing through after all.  She had won, again.  

“I used to have a son,” he announced suddenly, and she felt like she had been kicked in the chest.  She sat down heavily on her haunches, staring at him mutely.  She started to say something, but he didn’t stop talking.

“He never even saw his second birthday,” Riley said morosely, looking down at the floor, shoulders slumped.  His voice was slowly and very hesitant, as if he knew he shouldn’t be saying it.  As he got into his story he became more confident.

“I’d been called away, when it happened.  The Thala broke through the defence net.  A lucky shot took out a repeater relay and left a whole colony off the grid.  It didn’t take them long to lay waste to the station’s defences after that.  

“There was no hope for my son, and his beautiful mother.  The nearest frigates were half an hour away by warp, and outclassed to match.  Their fate was sealed, the Thala would break in minutes later.  We’ve seen it a thousand times before – they’d eat about half the population there and then, the rest they would load aboard their cargo ships, battered and broken.  The survivors would be the unlucky ones, they’d be hosts for newborn Thala drones, a living food source.  It could take weeks to die.

“In the end it was my own father who was their saviour.  He was the governor of the colony, an ex-marine, and he’d seen what was coming.  He blew the main reactor, destroying the entire colony in a microsecond.  They wouldn’t have felt a thing.  When I returned there was nothing but an airless crater.

“Sometimes, Twilight, it is better to give up.  But this isn’t one of those times.  My unit, the wing that crashed on your planet, is one of the most experienced fighting forces in the galaxy.  We’re needed out there, each day we spend here is another day that could have helped save someone from the pain of losing their family.”

Twilight didn’t know what to say.  There were no words that were suitable, no sentiments she could express that could help.

“Maybe now you can understand why I wanted you to leave me behind, to leave me to die.  One life isn’t important, not when it’s offset by a thousand tortured, dying souls.  You just can’t allow sentiment to interfere in something that big.  I don’t know how long I’ve got left, but I know I have to spend my last hours trying to fix this as best I can.  I have to get that core back.  I have to do whatever is necessary, I hope you understand that.”

He stopped and looked away from her, some unreadable expression his face.  “And I hope you can forgive me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to cry, nothing seemed fair anymore, her world was in flames, but then so was his.  Could she fix both of them?  She could at least try, she owed him that. 

“I think I can adjust the portal,” she said, trying not to choke. “I think it’s designed to be moved, if only I can work out how.”

She forced out the sadness, channelling her being into magic with single-minded purpose.  The shapes and patterns in the portal’s magical mechanics resolved to familiar designs and she pushed gently at it, nudging key parts carefully.  In the end it turned out to be quite simple, with the amount of energy the artefact was putting out she had a lot of magic to play with and the mechanisms to reset the position of the portal’s endpoint were then trivial to activate.  The portal flashed a few times, the white light flickering as it realigned itself.

“There, it’s connected to some sort of atrium now, a key position rather than a holding area.  I think it’s safe.  I hope.”  She looked at the portal suspiciously.  It didn’t look any different, the same pulsating blue-white glow spilled from it, glistening off Riley’s sickly skin.  She helped him to his feet, conscious of the deep sorrow in her chest.  He didn’t speak again, lost in his own despair, she imagined.  She felt extremely bad for causing him so much pain, she shouldn’t have prodded him so.  He looked strange, now, sadness and what she could only assume was guilt.  He wouldn’t look at her.

She held out a hoof to him and after a moment’s hesitation he took it in his long fingers, holding it gently.  He looked at her at last, his face a perfect picture of a resigned man.  She nodded and they stepped forward together, touching the surface of the portal and vanishing with a fizz of residual magic.
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight gasped for air she didn’t really need.  She had never actually been through a portal before, she had imagined they would be instantaneous, a transference of matter from one place to another without going through the spaces in between, a bit like her teleport spell.  That hadn’t turned out to be quite right. 

Instead, it had been a prolonged experience of perfect dark, no light, no sounds, nothing.  It was hard to tell just how long it had taken, or how long it had felt like it had taken, there was simply nothing to keep time by.  She knew from textbooks and her own experiments that the process was instant from an observer’s perspective, so it must have merely been an unexpected effect of sending an entire consciousness through space.  Riley looked equally confused, still holding her hoof in one hand.  She was glad of the contact, the place they had stepped into was very unpleasant. 

They stood alone on a smooth stone platform suspended above an abyss that glowed with a dark red light, some mists swirling far, far below.  Twilight could smell the air, hot and dry, and very, very still, like it hadn’t been disturbed in hundreds of years.  The roof of the cavern was invisible, lost to the darkness far above their heads.  The walls were likewise invisible, so far away that they were hidden by the light haze that hung in the air.

What was visible, however, were several towers of light, glittering like cut glass in the red light that spilled from all around.  Most of the columns were empty, but several contained dark and mysterious shapes.  Twilight walked forwards with a deep sense of uncertainty, the sound of her hoofsteps swallowed up by the vast space around them.  Riley followed a few paces behind, and when she glanced back at him he looked similarly awed.  The place was like nothing she could have imagined, and she wondered where it actually was.

The platform was a long catwalk between the pillars and as they drew close to one they could start to make out details of the creature trapped inside.  Twilight didn’t recognise it, but it paid a great deal of attention to them, its many eyes watching, unblinking.  It turned to follow them as they passed, and she shuddered, trying to ignore it.  There were many other things trapped down here. 

“Twilight Sparkle,” said a weary but strikingly familiar voice.  The sound of it commanded her to stop, a voice with absolute authority, tempered with a motherly tone that made it very hard to ignore.  

She turned at once, dropping to her knees to prostrate herself in front of the prison that held Celestia, guilt and fear overwhelming her.  

“Rise, Twilight,” she said, stepping forward until she could move no further.  “I am very glad to see you here.”

“Princess,” Twilight stammered, barely able to stand.  She had not had time to rehearse this conversation, or even to anticipate how it might go.  “I’m so sorry…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my little pony,” she said softly.  “You did as you should.  You protected your loved ones.”

“But at the expense of so many others,” she wailed forlornly.  “The world is in ruins, and it’s my fault, princess, all my fault.”

She felt Riley crouch beside her, his hand on her neck, concerned.  For once even his touch did nothing to help her and she trembled on the cold stone, facing her judgement like a child.

“She’s right, you know, my dear Celly,” said another voice from behind them.  “It really is her fault.  Her fault that we’ve been stuck here in this insufferably dull place for so very, very long.”

Twilight turned slowly, terribly aware of to whom the voice belonged.  A patchwork of animals looked back at her, a lopsided grin on his awful face.  “Why, hello, Twilight Sparkle,” Discord said casually, as if they were old friends who had met in the street.  “I’m also very glad to see you.  I’ve been stuck with this dull old witch for three hundred years.  Can you imagine it?  Me!  I’ve been sooooo bored.  But now you’re here that’s sure to change.  We should celebrate!”

A small puff of confetti appeared somewhere above his head, showering down in the column of light like some perverted snow-globe.  She swallowed her fear, remembering how many times he had haunted her dreams, and how many terrible things she held him responsible for.  She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him with undisguised malice.  With alarm she noticed a small patch of grey behind his towering body.  

“Derpy!” called Riley, waving to her.  “Are you okay?”

Derpy waved cautiously back at him, keeping as far away from Discord as she was able in the limited space.  

“Ah, you’ve seen my little guest, she dropped in to see me just a few moments ago,” Discord was saying with a joyous air.  “Unfortunately, she’s not done anything terribly amusing yet, and I’m still quite awfully bored.  I do find myself somewhat… hungry, though.  It has been three hundred years, afterall.  That’s a long time to expect a fellow to survive without even a snack.”

“You leave her alone,” Twilight shouted at him angrily, shaking a hoof in the air.  “You beast!”

“Can we get them out?” Riley was asking her, crouching down beside her.  His voice was strained and unsteady, and she searched his pained face.  While he was arguably more concerned about his backpack, he was also clearly worried about the pegasus trapped with an evil god, a hungry evil god.  

“Twilight,” said Celestia, drawing her attention back.  “You can release me, there is a dais close to where you entered. On it you will find an enchanted crystal.  From it you can learn a spell that you may use to dissolve the barriers.  It will be a difficult spell to cast, but I have faith that you possess the skill to do so.”

“Of course, princess!” she said, and galloped back the way they had come, leaving Riley slumped on the floor, still looking shocked by the whole situation. 

“Alternatively,” wheedled the smooth sound of Discord’s voice, “you could free me.  Ask yourself, what little can Celestia do against all the combined might of Tartarus?  Very little, I’ll tell you what.  She’ll wave some friendship at them in the vague hope they’d shamble on back to their shackles.  Maybe in another ten years she might have returned some order to the world.  Maybe.

“I, however, could put a stop to all this in the blink of a metaphorical eye.  To boot, you’d get that intriguing little device this pony carries, as well.  Isn’t that quite the deal?”

“Is this true,” Riley said, turning to Celestia.  She eventually gave a tiny nod, hanging her head wearily. 

Twilight was listening in from up the catwalk, and she was pleased to see that Riley remained silent.  “Don’t listen to a thing he says,” she called, rushing back over with the crystal held in her magic.  “He’s a despicable, untrustworthy liar!”

Discord held a paw up to his chest with an outraged, hurt look on his face.  “Oh, Twilight Sparkle!  You wound me.  A lovable, mischievous rascal I may be, but a liar I am not.”

His voice changed suddenly, dropping to a lower note, filled with sincerity.  “Release me from my prison, and you have my golden word that I will reseal the gates of Tartarus.  And you, strange human, I will return your property to you.  This is a promise.”

“And Derpy?” Riley asked, holding the draconequus’ gaze.  

“I was hoping to keep her,” Discord said slowly after a pause, looking hopefully at Derpy.  He gave an overly dramatic sigh.  “But, if you insist, you may have her back too, I suppose.  I don’t see why, though, you’ve got your own pony, right there.  Wanting two is just plain greedy, I say.”

“We’re not negotiating with you,” Twilight snarled, head down, eyes narrowed and her fur almost standing on end along her back like an angry cat.  It had at last begun to dry in the hot cavern and was sticking up in matted clumps.  “You truly are the mad-god in more than just name, if you think for a second I’m going to release you instead of Celestia.  You would turn on us the moment you were out.  You should stay here for eternity, and if I have anything to do with it that’s exactly what’s going to happen!”

“Twilight,” said Riley softly, barely audible, and she turned to look at him.  He was sat on the hard floor, holding his arm to his stomach.  “Can you retrieve just Derpy?  I need her.  I’m afraid… I don’t have long left.”

She frowned and looked back to Discord.  He was holding Derpy tightly, hugging her as if she were a pillow and stroking her mane with a claw.  He had a smug grin on his face, and was watching Twilight shrewdly.  Derpy’s eyes had separated again, and she looked wild and afraid, trembling in his grasp. 

“I’ll admit that I have little power over you, human,” he said.  “But I have been watching you ever since you arrived here.  I’ve seen many of the things that have transpired, and I can see your short, sad little life draining away, drop by crimson drop.  But alas, my heart, it aches, for there is nothing I can do to help you.  I am powerless.  

“Except, perhaps, I could return you to your people, straight away.  We could be there, right this very instant.  Now that sounds like a worthwhile deal, doesn’t it?  Your life, for my freedom.”

“No,” said Twilight morosely, trying hard to keep from looking at Riley.  Her voice was unsteady and shaky, no matter how hard to tried to stop it wavering.  “I can’t.  Not you.  Not again.  Not even for…”

“He will die here, Twilight Sparkle,” Discord said steadily.  He put Derpy down carefully and sat on the floor of his cell, crossing his legs and resting his head on his hands and his tail wrapped around in front of him.  Derpy fainted, falling into a crumpled heap in the bottom of the cell.  When he spoke again his voice was calm this time, no theatrics, no manufactured drama, a side to him Twilight had not yet seen.  “Perhaps it is time for me to bring your attention to some things.

“I didn’t do this, Twilight Sparkle.  The problems you face on the surface, I did not orchestrate any of them.  I let my friends and children out, three hundred years ago, just for a few days.  You can’t imagine how miserable it is for them, never seeing the daylight, trapped in an eternal night time.  You ponies were the ones who resisted them, made them fight for their existence.  And you banished me here and sealed yourself away for all of time.  In my absence the denizens of Tartarus ran free and wild, out of control.  

“I never meant for this to happen.  I am not a mass murderer, Twilight.  I only want to cause chaos, not extinction.  It is natural.  Chaos is part of nature.  It is my nature.  It is what I am.  I can not stop it, asking me to would be like asking you to stop breathing, or stop being a bookworm.”

“I don’t believe a word you say,” Twilight hissed, but her voice was not as steady as she wanted.  “Not a word.”

“I am not a liar,” he repeated levelly, calmer than she had ever seen him before.  “Every word I have spoken has been the truth, always.”

She turned to Celestia, unable to continue looking at Riley and Discord, she felt dangerously close to doing what he asked, if only to save Riley’s life.  “I don’t think I can cast this spell twice,” she said morosely.  “Not for a while, at least.  It’s too hard.”

The graceful alicorn, once a mighty ruler of Equestria, looked small and weak now, a resigned look on her face.  “I know, my faithful student.”

“What do I do?  Can you help Riley?”

“Yes,” she said.  “I can take him to his people.”

“I’m not going without my bag,” he said weakly from behind them.  “I can’t.”

She felt like shouting at him to stop being stupid, but all the things he had told her came rushing back and she understood that he would rather lie here forever than return without it.  She sighed deeply, her head already aching.   

“What do I do, princess?” she pleaded, looking up at her mentor longingly. 

“That is for you to decide, Twilight,” Celestia said cryptically.  “Sometimes you must make difficult decisions.”

“Really, now,” Discord said, leaping to his feet again.  “I don’t think this is a difficult decision at all.  Release me.  Wait here for a bit.  Release your beloved Celestia.  Easy!  Not that there’ll be anything for her to do once she gets out, of course, we’ll have everything sorted out by then, nice and tidy.  In fact, it’s for the best.  I hear she’s not feeling so potent, these days.”

Twilight looked between them anxiously.  The crystal felt heavy in her magical grip as she absorbed the spell trapped inside and prepared herself to cast it.  The ramifications of her decision would stretch forwards for centuries, she was sure, and now it was a decision that had far reaching consequences for not just her but an entire species beyond the stars as well.

The magic flowed into her from all around.  This ancient place deep without the bowels of the earth was so heavily saturated with it, raw and hot and uncontained.  Every hair on her body felt as if it were standing on end, her skin crawling.  It concentrated in a point just above the tip of her horn, too hot to look at and hovering on the very brink of her control.  She closed her eyes, terribly afraid and unsure. 

“Forgive me, Princess,” she whispered, and let the spell fly.  No sooner had it left her horn then her legs felt weak and she fell to the ground in a heap, exhausted and feeling deeply wretched.  She daren’t open her eyes, daren’t look up at Celestia.

“Ahh,” said Discord luxuriously, much closer now.  He was stretching his long body out, cracking joints and shuddering in bliss.  “It’s wonderful to feel the stone under one’s paws again.  My, it smells musty in here.  Someone should open a window.”

He clicked his fingers and a great blue square appeared in front of them, clouds and grass visible through it.  Fresh air blew in, ruffling Twilight’s fur.  “You have my deepest thanks, Twilight Sparkle.  But now, I have a promise to keep.  Do come by and say ‘hello’, when you find your way out!”

With another click of his fingers he scooped Riley up, a stretcher appearing underneath him, incongruous amongst the ancient magical setting.  Derpy was sprawled sideways over his chest, legs dangling off either side limply.  “Well, toodle-pip!”

He leapt through the window, Riley and Derpy in tow, and with a flash it closed.  Behind it was Celestia, looking down at Twilight with a sad smile. 

“I’m so sorry,” Twilight sobbed, hiding under her hooves.  Her head hurt and it felt as if she had betrayed her mentor.  All of the exhaustion and fear and panic of the last few days had finally caught up with her now she had stopped running. 

“Do not fret so, Twilight,” Celestia was saying.  “You made the correct choice.  Discord is a nuisance, but you must not mistake his actions for evil.  I believe he will do as he says.”

Twilight looked up at her finally, blinking away her tears.  “How can you be sure?”

“I have known him for a long time, Twilight.  It’s not the first time he has tried something like this.”

“Is he really more powerful than you, princess?” Twilight asked nervously.  She couldn’t bring herself to believe it. 

“In some ways, yes,” she said, sitting down and folding her legs comfortably underneath her.  “In this instance, most certainly.  The creatures and monsters out there are all his children.  They will listen to him, he inspires, commands and controls them.  Furthermore, he holds the very keys to Tartarus.  To reseal it is simple.”

“But you’re Princess Celestia,” she whined.  “You control the sun.  You can do anything.”

“Oh Twilight, surely after all this time you understand that is not the case.  It hasn’t been the case for many hundreds of years.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, standing up and leaning forwards anxiously. 

“I think you know,” she said, blinking slowly and speaking calmly.  “You know the reason you have become an alicorn.  My time on this world is coming to an end.  The age has come for me to rest at long last.  For generations I have searched for my successor, for some pony strong enough and caring enough to lead Equestria forward.  I believe you already know this, in your heart, even if you don’t want to admit it aloud.  

“I am afraid my plans of helping you come to accept this truth gently have been laid to waste, however, and I am sorry for that.  My entrapment here has shortened the time I have left.  Raising the sun, for example, is a mantle that must soon pass to you, my faithful student.  I no longer possess the strength to continue that particular task indefinitely.”

Twilight gasped aloud and searched Celestia’s face, desperate to see a hint of mischief there, or something to indicate she was just testing her.  “You’re… dying?”

“Not at all, Twilight.  I’m always here, I am a part of this world, as are you, and as were the guardians who came before me.  My mortal body will fade, but my spirit will always be here.  One day, the same will happen to you, and when it does, you will welcome it gladly.”

“How long?” she whispered, barely able to speak.  This was all so sudden, so unexpected.  

“How long do any of us have to live?” she countered whimsically.  “We cannot see the future.  But do not fret, it will be a good, long time.  Many lifetimes, were you not now an ageless alicorn yourself.  I will still be by your side, but as a friend instead of a teacher.  I will do my best to help you in your new duties, and Luna will still reign during the night for as long as she is able, for her time will soon come, as well.”

Twilight sat back down again and considered the ground in front of her.  A few lifetimes didn’t sound so bad after all.  And if Celestia didn’t have to do quite so many princess-y things anymore then they’d have a lot more time to spend together.  Maybe she could move to Ponyville with the rest of them!  That would be fun. 

“Small steps,” Twilight said aloud to herself, forcing her mind to slow down.  There were other things to be done first, like a world to recover from the brink of destruction.  She didn’t want to imagine what chaos Discord was currently unleashing on the world.  She hoped that Celestia was right, and that he would keep his word.  There would still be a lot of work to do to recover the tribes from the coasts and encourage them to move back into the heartlands, but at least if there weren’t packs of monsters lurking behind every shadow then that would be a lot easier. 

“I’m going to try and cast the spell again,” she announced, standing up and lowering her head, fiery determination coursing through her veins.  Celestia said something, but she was already deeply embroiled in the magical gymnastics required.  The same feeling was there, growing at the tip of her soul, but this time it was unstable and swelling far beyond her control.  

With a crack it collapsed, dumping the remaining energy back into her horn.  She cried out in pain and fell back a few paces, groaning.  Bright spots of light flashed in her vision and she felt very dizzy.

“Patience, Twilight,” Celestia scolded gently.  “You must wait until you have recovered properly before attempting such a spell again.  It was not designed to be cast by somepony so young and inexperienced.”

“Yes, princess,” she said automatically, still rubbing at her temples.  

“We have time, let us talk for a while.  Tell me about your adventures.  Discord and I have been able to see fragments, but I would like to hear your interpretation.”

Twilight blinked away the dizziness and began recounting events from the past couple of extraordinarily long days.  Her meeting with Spike was of particular interest, and she was fascinated to hear all about the humans, their technology, language, customs, everything. 

“I’ve not had a lot of time to study them, I’m afraid,” she said.  “Besides Riley.  The others we travelled with seemed nice enough, but hardly any of them can speak our language, and I never had the chance to attempt to learn much of theirs.”

“You seem to hold some affection for him,” she observed with a smile.  Twilight felt her cheeks flush, was it that obvious?

“A little bit,” she mumbled, feeling like a filly with a crush at school.  “He’s intriguing.  He’s so strong and fearless, too, he’s always protected me and helped me, even though I don’t think he’s meant to.  They have a very strong hierarchical organisation, you see, and he’s fiercely obedient to his superior, who doesn’t think they should interfere with our lives.  But I am glad he did, I don’t think I would have made it this far, without Riley.  And it’s only natural I should feel something for him.

“You can’t deny the humans are quite cute, as well,” she said with a slightly bashful grin.  “Especially when he’s thinking about something and he gets that far off dreamy look…”  

Celestia nodded and gave her another warm smile.  “Indeed.  Although, isn’t he leaving here soon?”

“Yes,” she said with a sad sigh, all too aware of the fact.  “He has to go.  His people need him.  More than I do.  

“It’s a great shame, though.  They have so many wondrous things, princess!  They can’t make their own magic, but they’ve built machines to do it for them.  They have flying craft that can circle the entire planet one hundred times in a day!  Medicine that can regrow bones in a single night, machines that can take tiny photographs of you.  Endless marvels, what I wouldn’t give for a lifetime to study them.”

“They certainly sound fascinating, my dear Twilight,” Celestia said with a smile.  Her old student was firmly back in academic mode, her favourite place to be.

“I think Riley, and maybe all of them, could really benefit from the lessons you taught me, princess.  They seem so… friendless.  I want to help them, I want them to stay here.  I wanted them to help us, as well,” she said.  “And they told me they couldn’t.  I was angry at the time, but I understand clearly now, they have far greater problems than we do.  It was very selfish of me, to demand their help.”

“We must each fight our own battles, Twilight,” Celestia said wisely. 

Twilight imagined Riley saying exactly the same thing in his calm, measured way, upset at having to tell her something she didn’t want to hear.  That was just like him, she decided.  She tried to steer the conversation away from Riley a little, she was starting to realise she was gushing about him to the princess, and looking at it from her viewpoint it probably seemed a little… odd.  Alien… pony… weird.  She swallowed guiltily.

“Princess, do you know what might have happened to the Elements of Harmony?  They vanished when I cast… that spell.  Spike thinks their physical manifestations might have been destroyed.  Can I get them back?  I’m worried we might need them before today is over, with Discord on the loose again.”

Celestia paused thoughtfully and replied that she wasn’t aware that they had been lost.  “This information shines a new light on matters.  Firstly, their fundamental essence cannot be destroyed, so have no fear of that.  The most likely explanation is that Discord has them, as I assume you were wearing them at the time you banished him.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she suddenly looked more alert.  “We have had a long time to talk, he and I.  He has not mentioned them.  In hindsight that is suspicious in itself.”

“Discord has the Elements?” Twilight cried, standing up suddenly.  All the hard work she had put into trying to tame her wild mane was immediately wasted as she paced nervously, upsetting it again.  “Oh dear, oh dear, this is very bad.”

Celestia looked thoughtful again, her eyes narrowed.  “I am afraid in this instance I have to agree with you.  I have a terrible suspicion he is up to something.”

“Does he know you’re… weakening?”

“Yes,” she said, a little reluctantly.  “It may be that he wishes to rule in my place, instead of you.  If he can hide the Elements from you then that is a powerful hand he holds in this game, and a move that will make his task much easier.  I had hoped he might go peacefully, at least for some time, but if not then you and your friends are going to have to take action against him.”

Twilight’s heart sank.  She had been convinced that finding Celestia would be the end of her arduous journey, that the princess would help fix everything and they could return to normality once more.  Normality plus some humans.  That would have been perfect.

Now it looked as if the responsibility for the future of Equestria had been placed firmly in her hooves again.  Not only was she to rule in Celestia’s place, as if that weren’t going to be difficult enough, but first she was going to have to defeat Discord, again.  She didn’t even know if her friends were even alive, she realised.  A hot, nauseous feeling churned in her stomach.

“I can see some things from here,” Celestia told her when she burst out with her worries.  “Small snatches as the ether shifts to and fro and little pieces of the real world become visible.  Discord is much better at reading it than I, a lot of what has happened I have had to rely on him for.  But I think your friends in Ponyville are well, although they look exhausted.  Applejack and Rainbow Dash have managed to return to the surface safely.”

Twilight relaxed, slumping on the floor again.  “Thank the sun,” she murmured.  She would never have forgiven herself if anything had happened to them, after dragging them down after her.

“That’s a saying you’re going to have to forget, soon,” Celestia told her, and despite everything she grinned.
	
> Chapter 14
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Riley’s heart lurched when Twilight’s spell freed Discord instead of Celestia.  He had been convinced she would release her mentor, she had precious few reasons to do otherwise.  Yet here they were, the peculiar creature standing before them, looking around with an almost equally surprised look on his face, as though he hadn’t really expected it to work, either.  

Riley swallowed nervously, a strong sensation of guilt worming its way up his chest, threatening to crush his heart and overcome him.  This was what he wanted, after all, his mission was to return the warp core and get the hell away from this forsaken planet before something even worse turned up to try and eat them.  

Manipulating Twilight’s emotions to achieve his goals, however, and outright lying at times – that felt extremely wrong.

He forced himself to focus, pushing through the pain and feverish heat that seemed to cover every inch of his body.  Discord was speaking melodramatically again, almost gloating by the sounds of it.  The creature really was a complete jerk, Riley decided.  There were few other words to describe him.  

His body jumped in surprise as a medical stretcher suddenly appeared under him, jolting him painfully.  He found himself floating, and then the inert form of Derpy was draped over him unceremoniously, knocking what remaining breath he had from his lungs.   He tried to hold onto her as they lurched through the air after Discord’s departing tail, the gurney swinging wildly from side to side and threatening to dislodge them both.  

They were floating through a strange landscape, hovering above an endless green meadow speckled with daisies in the most picturesque way imaginable.  Far in the distance snowcapped mountains twinkled in the bright sunshine, and the sky above was a deep blue, small wisps of cloud way up high.  Everything seemed too bright, the colours too much.  The air was cool and refreshing and impossibly pure.  Riley was certain it was not real.

Suddenly Discord was floating next to him, smaller now, closer to his own size.  His horsey face was awfully close, inspecting him from all angles with an unreadable expression.

“My, my,” he drawled.  “You are a peculiar looking thing, aren’t you?  So… fleshy.  How do you keep warm?  So little fur!  What does Twilight Sparkle see in you, hmm?”

“I thought you said this would be immediate?  Was Twilight correct?  Are you a liar?”

Discord narrowed his eyes and leant forwards with a sneer.  “It will be.  I am a creature of my word.  Although, if I may say so, is this not a case of pot and kettle?  I may be as honest as a looking-glass myself, but I can tell a good lie when I hear one.”

Riley squirmed slightly.

“As much as I approve of your trying to confuse these little ponies, pretending you have a child is quite a leap to take.  And kidnapping her townsfolk?  I would certainly like to be around when she finds that one out.  Even I can’t create that sort of mayhem lightly.”

He mumbled something about it being necessary, but Discord didn’t seem to be paying much attention, content to dance around in the air instead.  Riley felt wretched for lying, but the situation had been looking increasingly dire at the time and getting Twilight emotionally involved in retrieving Derpy (and therefore the warp core) had seemed the be best course of action.  In hindsight he was genuinely regretful of what he had done, but what was done was done, and if all went to plan then they would be leaving for good soon anyhow.

“Get a move on,” he said flatly.  “I have no interest in having you lay bare my sins.  You promised to get me back.”

“But we are going back.” Discord spiralled around him, his snakelike body coiling in the air like a piece of trailing thread.  “No time has passed in the real world.  This is one of my planes, although it’s really been let go since I’ve been away, chatting with dear Celestia for three hundred years.  Just look at this grass!”

In the distance a small army of antique green lawnmowers had appeared, clipping along at a fair pace, seemingly under their own power.  As they passed beneath him the ground changed from lush green to dusty yellow sand, and still unbearably brightly coloured.  A few cacti had sprung up nearby with their sharp spines glittering, and a heat haze shimmered across the dunes.

“Get on with it,” he muttered.  As interesting as this new character was the absurdity of the situation and his sickness were combining to make the whole experience feel rather more like an uncomfortable dream than any sort of reality.  

“Hasty, aren’t we?  I was going to talk to you for a bit, try to get to know you.  I’ve only seen you through a hazy window from my miserable cell, and I have so many questions, you wouldn’t believe it!  I was, I admit, also going to try to explain myself to you.  

“Dear Twilight Sparkle and I have something of a feud, you see.  She doesn’t like me very much at all, mostly because of a few small, unfortunate misunderstandings we shared in the past.  But I’m really not such a bad guy, once you get to know me.  

“She’s doubtless told you how I’m the ‘Scourge of Equestria’, or some such waffle.  Twilight, that is, princess Twilight Sparkle, has always been a little bit of a loose cannon, so to speak.  I know she’s told you about some of her… incidents over the years.  Humorous as they may be, she is hardly the picture of stability, and I for one am very puzzled as to why dear Celestia thinks she’s a good choice for the future ruler of Equestria.”

Riley snorted, thinking back over the few days he had known Twilight, and her adorable but at times somewhat peculiar approach to life.  Discord certainly made a point, but then at the same time it was hard to believe that he would get a truly balanced opinion from either of them and reminded himself to take Discord’s words with a liberal pinch of salt.

Discord continued eloquently.  “I would feel terribly hard done-by if you were to leave this lovely world of ours without at least a little bit more of a balanced view, and who better than to give it than yours truly?”

Riley rolled his eyes, he felt as if this could go on for a long time.  “Look, I really couldn’t care less.  I just want to complete my mission and get off this planet before I go completely insane.  I’m a little worried that might already have happened.”

“Oh, fine,” Discord said flippantly, performing a few more aerobatics.  Derpy was stirring on Riley’s chest and he squeezed her gently, more for his own comfort than anything else.  He was feeling unnervingly detached from the situation to the point where an impossibly cute flying pony could actually help to reassure him that he wasn’t dreaming. 

“I understand some of your plight, that your whole species is fighting for its survival, and, by the looks of you lot, it isn’t doing very well.  I’m not heartless, you know, and I would give you a gift, a trinket that might help you.”

Riley felt affronted.  “We don’t need help,” he said hotly.

“Well, think of these as a mere curiosity, then,” Discord said, materialising an ornate carved wooden box in front of them.  In the distance a second window had appeared and they were approaching it quickly.  “They are, after all, part of the reason you are with us today.  These are some of the very things that drew your marvellous flying machines here in the first place.  Magic.”

“What are they?” Riley asked suspiciously.  Derpy had her eyes open and was watching Discord cautiously.  Riley gently scratched his fingers through the fur on the back of her neck and she wriggled against him with a very quiet giggle, relaxing a little.  It was, he thought, very much like having a large, flying dog that could talk to you, unquestioningly friendly.  

“They’re magic crystals,” Discord told him, as if that explained everything.  He opened the box before Riley’s eyes.  Six large, beautifully cut crystals glittered inside, nestled amongst some expensive looking cloth, reflecting the light into many angular patterns.  “Pretty little things, aren’t they?  They form a complete set with some very interesting magical properties.  I think you would find some of their capabilities very useful, or at least of considerable academic interest, if you’d rather fight your own battles without them.”

Riley narrowed his eyes, peering past them at Discord.  They were very tempting, the same instinct that Spike’s hoard had awoken in him certainly seemed to have taken notice again.  

“Equestria is full of crystals like this,” Discord continued by way of explanation, snapping the box shut again with a wave of a taloned claw.  “Over the centuries the ponies have invested a considerable amount of effort in digging them up out of the ground.  Many of them get enchanted with various mundane spells, often by students of the magical arts, I am led to understand.  All seems rather pointless to me, but there you go; ponies in a nutshell.  Lovely to look at, a little pointless when you get into the detail.”

Riley stifled a grin despite his determination to remain apart.  The guy was good fun, even if he was a little unhinged, but then everyone on this planet had come across as a bit strange in some way or other.

“Ah, it looks like we’ve arrived!” Discord sang brightly as they approached the gaping window.  Riley found the box laid on his chest, lid sealed shut.  “Please, take them, a parting gift from me to you.  If you hadn’t convinced Twilight Sparkle of the wisdom of freeing me then I would likely be stuck in that dreary place for another three hundred years, and this time I wouldn’t even have had the questionable pleasure of Celestia’s fascinating company.

“So, good luck, Riley the Human.  It’s been a pleasure meeting you, and I hope you have a smooth journey home.  If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of herding to do!”

Discord vanished with a cheery wave and a popping sound, and Riley found himself lying in the centre of Ponyville, on his back on a stretcher with Derpy just climbing to her hooves, standing guard over him.  

“Are you okay, mister Riley?” she asked, looking down at him.  He smiled up at her and nodded.

“I’ll be fine, Derpy.  Thankyou for sticking by me.  I couldn’t have done it without you.  Go see to your kid.”

“Thankyou!” she chirped.  She deposited his backpack on the ground next to him and bent down to nuzzle his neck affectionately.  He tensed, caught off-guard, and then with a rush of air she was gone, weaving off through the early morning darkness.  He watched her go before letting his head fall back to the hard ground under the stretcher.  His neck tingled pleasantly. 

He could hear booted feet running his way and the shouting of commands, and suddenly hands were around him, pulling at his clothes and lifting him swiftly.  He finally let himself fall into oblivion, the darkness overtaking him.

Sometime later he awoke, surrounded by black.  He blinked in the gloom, unable to see anything.  Around him was the steady drip, drip, drip of something, and he imagined for a horrifying moment that he was back in the cave, water rushing in from somewhere, but then he realised he was lying on a firm hospital bed, clean white sheets around him.  A wavering light came towards him, a feeble torch, barely bright enough to light the way. 

“Hello?” he called out.  The steady drip continued and the light turned to him, seeking him out.  He had a terrible sinking feeling in his soul, just when it seemed his journey had come to an end he found that something new had gone wrong.

Very, very wrong. 

“What’s happening?”

His mouth felt dry and talking was hard.  The words didn’t seem to come out properly, slurring around his thick tongue.  The light drew closer, and he could detect the sound of footsteps.

No, not footsteps, hoofsteps.  Three, to be precise, and a marked limping sound.  “Derpy?” he hazarded hopefully. 

The light flared and Twilight burst into view, her horn aglow.  He tried not to scream, she was only a foot from his face, having covered the distance far too quickly.  One eye bored into him, the other gummed shut, her fur burnt and horn cracked, bloodstained fur as black as soot.

He scrabbled backwards, desperately trying to get away from her but the bedclothes were tangled tightly around him and he couldn’t move.  In the sickly flickering light from her shattered horn he could see more of the ward around him, a hospital bigger than he remembered, far too big to see all of, rows and rows of beds as far as he could see.  The bed next to him was occupied and had a dead man in it, lifeless eyes staring straight ahead.  With a shock he realised it was Williams, still in full dress uniform, as torn and bloody as it was.  

He looked up, and regretted it immediately.  A familiar pony hung from the ceiling above him, her twisted, broken body dripping a pool on the floor, a steady sound, impossibly loud.  Her beautiful grey feathers were torn and missing, wings bent and snapped at awful angles. 

Riley screamed, although very little sound came out.  Twilight had hopped up on the bed, one lame leg dragging uselessly behind her, and as she crawled towards him she mouthed a word over and over, silent except for the hiss of her laboured breathing. 

“Liar.”

“Collins!” shouted a voice and he jolted properly awake, sitting up in the infirmary ward and pulling painfully at the intravenous line in his arm.  Strong hands pushed him back down and fiddled with his connections.  His frantic breathing slowed, his heart hammering in his chest.  Nearby a machine was beeping an alarm, his sudden rise in pulse rate had triggered something.  

“That’s not happened in years,” he murmured, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of the hospital gown.  He knocked the cluster of wires that were attached to the transceiver pad on his head, sending a spasm of electrical pain through his nerves.  He winced and the hands were there again, fussing over him and trying to stop him poking at things.  

He still felt very disorientated.  Unwelcome dreams had been extremely common in the early days when he had first undergone the surgery to have his cybernetics linked up, the confusion the brain experienced for the first year or so had all sorts of unpleasant manifestations.  Some people developed uncontrollable tics, some lost acuity in one or more natural senses, some simply went insane.  For him he had been cursed with horribly graphic nightmares whenever he slept deeply.  Over time he had learnt to control them, but from time to time one still snuck through.

“I’m alright,” he said a little irritably as the nurse continued poking and prodding, peering in his eyes with a torch and sticking a cold thing in his ear.  “Bad dream.”

They finally stood back and left him alone, and he lay staring at the ceiling, letting his breathing finally calm to a resting rate.  He tried to blank the images from his dream but they lingered in his minds’ eye; Twilight, betrayed, accusing, hurt.  

He blinked hard a few times and shook his head fiercely.  It annoyed him that she had managed to have such an impact on his psyche to be able to break into his dreams in such a dramatic manner.  There was no reason for him to feel so much guilt, no reason to have such an attachment to her, and plenty of reasons not to.

He focused his attention on his surroundings, a welcome distraction.  The ward was lit with the harsh light of a field hospital, minimal but effective.  The thick canvas overhead undulated very slightly in the breeze outside, the striplight swinging gently.  He was hooked up to a large bank of machines, and his entire midriff was bandaged properly and cleanly.  A thick bundle of cables ran to a transponder strapped to the side of his head, and he could feel the interface talking to his implants, monitoring his body from the inside.  Maybe that intrusion was partly responsible for letting the gremlins past his mental defences.

Nothing seemed to hurt much, thankfully, and from what he could see of the displays around him he was recovering well, the damage had evidently been simple to repair.  He looked around hopefully, wondering when someone would come to see him.  The two male nurses who had restrained him initially had shuffled back off to deal with some other patient.

A third nurse came to poke her head through the curtain.  On seeing he was awake she drew them back, and Riley saw he was in a larger ward.  There were twelve beds, occupied by another four humans and seven ponies in various states of recovery.  He was pleased to see they were still helping the natives, despite the mandate that required them to avoid getting involved in an alien species’ affairs.  He supposed it had been waived in this case, since there were so many other parts of that rule they had inadvertently broken.

“How are you feeling?” the nurse asked primly, propping the head of the bed up and inspecting some of the machinery.  

“Better,” he replied, looking around some more.  He tensed his stomach experimentally and could at least feel some pain there, so it wasn’t completely healed.  “How long have I been out?”

“About six hours.  You’ve taken to the treatment well, you had an infection that the antibiotics and your own nanites have largely cured.  You also had some strange compounds in your blood, some of which are still there.”

“Ponies,” he said by way of explanation.  “They tried some of their medicine on me.”

“We suspected as much.” She consulted some charts.  “It doesn’t appear to be doing you any harm, fortunately, and in fact may actually be helping you.  Your recovery has been remarkably swift, lieutenant-commander Collins.  You were lucky that the trauma missed any organs.  About a centimetre further would’ve lost you a kidney, and we’re all out of spares.”

“Lucky me,” he said with a grim smile.  It felt strange to be speaking common English again.  He realised it had only been a few Earth-days since they landed, but it felt as if an age had passed.  So much had happened.  “Do you know where my belongings ended up?”

“Yes, Admiral Williams has taken custody.  He asked to be informed when you awoke, so I would imagine someone’ll be along shortly to debrief you.”

“Very good,” he said.  A small amount of pride rose in his chest and blossomed into an overwhelming surge of emotion.  He had completed his mission, against almost insurmountable odds.  He had battled several kinds of monsters and survived, met a dragon and been transported into the depths of an ancient mountain where he’d met two rival gods.  Things had looked bleak, but he’d pulled through, despite the cost.  This was what he lived for, the reason he fought so hard.

Riley was getting restless by the time the admiral himself turned up.  While his injuries didn’t hurt as such they did itch terribly and the damage internally would take weeks to clear up properly so he could feel a strange sort of pressure, almost an ache, deep in his gut.  With nothing to do to distract him it was difficult to ignore it. 

He saluted Williams, and the older man sat next to him, checking over his charts with a detached sort of interest.  Riley knew he probably didn’t understand most of it, and anything he did need to know he would have been told already, so it was all for something to do.

“Good to see you, Riley,” he said warmly, setting the tablet down.  “You had me worried for a while.  The techs kept getting tiny squirts of data from your implants while you were out in the field, the weakest signal imaginable.  That you were injured was apparent, but they couldn’t work out the details.  Then you went completely dark, and the next we heard of you was when everything lit up again, and you turned up slap bang in the middle of the camp.”

“It’s been an interesting few days, sir,” he said.  “Has the core been tested?  Is it viable?”

“We think so, the engineering team from Alpha One has given it a precursory inspection, but I’d rather you be personally involved in its final re-commissioning.  We can’t afford to mess this up.”

Riley sat up a little further, preparing to get out of the bed.  “How long’s the window?”

“We’ve got five hours to get off the ground.  We’re aiming to transfer to satellite orbit, the moon is going to be behind the planet for another day at least so that gives us some time to prepare.  The techs seem to think the sun might be calming, as well.”

“What about these attacks I heard about?”

“They ceased, almost the exact moment you returned, in fact.”  Williams raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

Riley sighed and shook his head, a silly, tired grin on his face.  “Where to start…”

He recounted the major events of the excursion from leaving the camp to his capture by the roc, and from there back to the camp, trying to be as specific as possible without lapsing into what would undoubtedly sound like a rambling fairy tale.  That ended up being quite tricky to avoid.  

“I was able to convince Twilight Sparkle of our pressing need to return,” he said simply, a bitter taste on his tongue.  Twilight was unbearably trusting, which just made his treachery feel all the worse.  There was no real reason for her to find out, but he knew what he had done, and even that was enough. 

“Discord returned me here.  He is deeply peculiar, and clearly very powerful in ways we don’t yet comprehend, but in my opinion he seemed genuine enough.  He kept his word to me, and the attacks have certainly stopped.  I suspect the ponies’ view of him is somewhat skewed.”

Williams tapped his chin thoughtfully.  

“Did you also inspect the crystals in the wooden box, admiral?”

“Yes,” he replied, looking up.  “Again, the techs have only had a very precursory look at them, but I hear they are extremely interesting.”

Riley nodded.  “Discord said they would be of interest to us.  Do you know their findings?”

“I gather they possess some qualities not unlike the warp core you went to retrieve, in fact.  Some sort of quantum coherence engine, they think, encoded into the crystal structure.  Excite them with particular frequencies of light and they come alive.  The science bods are certainly very excited about them.”

Riley nodded, he was curious to get to look at them as well, his implant had felt very peculiar when Discord had dropped them on his chest.  Whatever they were, they were a lot more than just pretty glass, that much was clear.  “I look forward to being able to study them on the return journey,” he said. 

“Are you well enough to begin work?” 

“Absolutely,” he said, swinging his legs out of the side of the bed and carefully disconnecting some of the sensors on his head.  His nurse re-appeared and looked like she was about to object before noticing the admiral still sitting there and snapping her mouth shut quickly. 

Riley clenched his jaw tightly, his abdomen felt very uncomfortable when he moved, a deep pressure in his core that made him feel sick.  He tried to focus on other things to distract himself, in particular he felt calm enough after his little dream to allow his thoughts to return to Twilight, and he wondered how she was doing.  He had ditched her there, he realised guiltily, just another mean thing he had done to add to the list.  If she couldn’t cast her spell again, or Celestia wasn’t able to teleport her out, then she was going to be in trouble.

He hastily pulled his new clothes on, shrugging out of the medical gown and leaving it crumpled on the bed.  Williams would be strongly against the idea of helping her, he knew, and of course he had no idea how they could assist in any case.  Short of drilling into the mountain there was little they could do, and they certainly didn’t have the equipment, nor the manpower or time, for such a task.  

The only other option seemed to involve asking Discord to help.  He at least had demonstrated the ability to move them around seemingly arbitrarily, using a much stronger version of the ‘spell’ Twilight used to teleport herself, or some variant thereof.  Riley suspected, however, that he wouldn’t be particularly helpful.  Although he had been perfectly civil to Riley (in his own strange way) it seemed like his relationship with Twilight was rocky at the best of times. 

In the end there was nothing for it but to trust in Twilight’s ability to release Celestia successfully, and for her in turn to transport them both here.  It didn’t give him cause to feel any better.  At least mounting a rescue mission might have helped earn him some redemption points back.  Once the adrenaline had worn off from the near constant fight for survival he was feeling a lot more human and his poor treatment of Twilight suddenly seemed a lot less forgivable.  At the time the mission had seemed like the most important thing in the world, and simply using those around him as a means to an end and as tools had seemed justifiable. 

“I’ve got a team of three men for you,” Williams was saying as they walked out of the infirmary, Riley trying to find the right awkward gait that didn’t bother his injury too much.  “I believe you’ve worked with two of them before, the third is a young fellow straight out of the academy.  A bit like you, by all reports, top grades in everything.  I’m sure you’ll get along well.”

“I’m grateful for the extra help,” he said.  “Have preparations been made for departure once we’ve returned warp capability?”

“Yes.  Crews and resources have already been reassigned to the remaining functional vehicles, it’s not going to be comfortable, but we can get everyone out safely.  We should be ready to dust off approximately forty minutes after we get the go-ahead from your team.”

“Great, we’ll have the fleet off the ground in a couple of…”

They were interrupted by a young sergeant running up to them and whispering urgently in William’s ear.  Riley took the opportunity to look around.  The camp seemed much the same as before, albeit with a few more scorch marks and signs of fighting.  It was difficult to tell if the town itself had sustained much more damage, their own camp had expanded slightly and the rest of the town was mostly out of view in the darkness.  There was the smell of fresh woodsmoke in the air, however. 

Williams nodded to the sergeant who saluted and sprinted off.  All around them men had started running, unpacking weapons from the cargo bays of ships and redeploying defences.

“Sir?” Riley questioned, looking around.  He could hear some of the radio chatter in the air but he hadn’t got his radio on him yet.

“They’re back,” Williams said gruffly.

“Discord?” 

“Unknown.  You’re the only one to have a positive ID on him yet.”

“You’d know,” Riley said.  “He’s pretty distinctive.”

“Head of a horse, body of everything else, yes.  They’ve been decoding some of the books from their library while you’ve been away.  I’ve seen some of the reports.”

Riley nodded.  They’d spot him.  “Orders, admiral?”

“They seem disinclined to engage us directly, it’s only through trying to assist the natives that we’ve taken any real casualties.  God damn it, we need to get out of here as soon as possible, before this gets any worse.  Head over to Alpha Three, get the warp core up and working, get us off this rock.”

“Yessir,” he said with a sloppy salute.  It was good to have something familiar to do, a more mundane task for which he was well-trained.  Running around the countryside being kidnapped by demonic birds and tricked by imps was certainly not one of his key strengths.  Getting the fleet back in the air was his real job and he was already thinking through the logistics.  No doubt others would have drawn up the flight plans by now and signed off the risk assessments, but it didn’t hurt to exercise his brain a little.  

They’d have to take the lead warp ship, Alpha Three, up into orbit as soon as possible so that it could begin the tedious process of fixing its location.  No doubt Williams would want to send at least another two craft up with it, one supply and one defence, the skies seemed clear but after their brief stay in Equestria they had learnt not to take anything the planet showed at face value.  The remainder of the fleet would follow shortly after, ascending in measured intervals, always leaving a safe haven at either end until the very last possible moment that the final ship dusted off.

A few of their ships were never going to fly again, he knew.  They had been damaged too badly to be viable, their crews and cargo had been rearranged to fit amongst the others, and many spare parts had been scavenged for repairs.  He could see a few technicians finishing the decommissioning, stripping out anything that could make them functional and attempting to permanently destroy that which was to be left behind.  That the native population had even seen their technology was unfortunate, leaving it around in a working state would only make things worse.  It was a shame they would have to leave the hulking carcasses slowly sinking into the ground, especially in the centre of what was clearly a very picturesque town during more peaceful days, but they hadn’t the time to move them. 

The engineering bay of the third ship in their fleet had been cleaned up significantly since he was there last.  The propulsion units had been repaired and serviced and all the clutter and junk cleared away.  The warp computer he had worked so painfully hard to acquire was sitting on the worktop with various monitoring tools and pieces of diagnostic equipment laid about, and three technicians huddled around them, working at the consoles. 

He greeted them, recognising two as the admiral had promised, and sat down at the spare stool to see what they had discovered so far.  The core had suffered a fair bit of water damage and some fairly severe knocks and scrapes, but was in serviceable condition.  The other three had already begun carefully stripping away the outer casing and draining the insides.  Fortunately the thing was designed to be airtight and so the water had not penetrated into the very delicate innards or they really would have been in trouble.  

Most of the diagnostics they had been able to run so far had come up clear, and all that was really left for him to do was double-check their workings and run some of the more delicate routines himself, relying heavily on his implants to give him the lightning reactions he needed to be able to rattle through them at a colossal rate. 

They reassembled it and gave it a final round of functional trials.  It would be their only functioning warp drive, a risky situation to be in, particularly if its stability had reason to be doubted, caused by, for example, being dragged through a flooded mine.  If it failed to calculate the exact impulses they needed then they could find themselves re-materialising almost anywhere in the universe, or even becoming stuck in hyperspace forever.  Neither situation left them in a good position.

Fitting it in place of the damaged core in their own ship was simple enough, the service engineers had done an excellent job of clearing out the remains of the damaged one and everything was ready to drop straight in.  Nearly four hours had passed since they started, and Riley was very pleased with their progress.  It left them with a window of just over an hour to get the fleet airborne, ample time assuming nothing unexpected happened.

He flicked through the radio channels, trying to get a sense for what was happening.  Chatter was low.

“Enemy is simply waiting, sir,” the officer he spoke to said.  “We’ve deployed defences around the perimeter, the locals have done the same, as much as you can call it a ‘defence’.  They’re holding about two hundred metres out.  Seem uninterested in us.”

Riley frowned and ducked out of the ship, minding his head on the low hatchway to the engineering levels.  He peered into the darkness, trying to see what was happening, looking for the distinctive shape of Discord.  He was a little worried for the ponies; it seemed obvious what Discord was doing.  He was waiting.  Waiting for the humans to get out of the way, as he had promised.  What he intended to do once they were gone…  Well, you didn’t need an army for a welcome-home party, that was certain.  He set his jaw and tried to ignore his guilt.

The sky was beginning to brighten off to one side, heralding the slow approach of dawn.  Behind him the crews of Alpha Three and two other ships were beginning pre-flight checks, running the engines through their warm-up procedures and checking life support systems.

“Mister Riley!” wailed a familiar voice in the distance.  He looked up into the sky and spotted a grey pegasus coming in fast.  Too fast.  

He ducked as Derpy pulled up sharply in front of him, bracing her legs against the hull of the ship with a loud clang.  She half slithered, half flew down the remaining few metres.  Riley helped her to her hooves and she fluttered her wings in frustration.  

“Twilight Sparkle’s back!” she announced excitedly, tugging on his hand to pull him along after her.  He tried to protest but she had already taken off and wasn’t letting go. 

“Whoa, remember what happened last time!” he called, but thankfully she didn’t actually try to get him airborne, content to just drag him along at an uncomfortable pace, hopping and skipping after her like a child on his mother’s arm.

She led him back to the library, that great oak tree in the centre of the town with the quaint house inside.  It always looked much smaller from the outside than it really was, the lush green boughs disguising its true dimensions.  Derpy rushed him through the door so quickly he barely had the time to duck to avoid bumping his head.

Rarity was standing at the top of the stairs and beckoned to him.  He hurried up them three at a time, finding Twilight lying on her bed, a pillow over her head.  

“What’s the matter?” he asked Rarity, worried. 

“She’s exhausted herself,” Rarity told him softly.  Riley studied the white unicorn’s face, she didn’t look much less exhausted herself.  Her sleek white fur was matted and stained with all sorts of things, and her red, tired eyes suggested it had been at least a day since she had last slept.  

“It is possible for a skilled unicorn to cast spells, even when one may no longer have the energy to do so.  Poor Twilight has rather overdone it, I’m afraid.”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled from under her pillow.  “I just need to sleep!”

“Are you okay?”  He spoke quietly, kneeling beside the bed and trying to peer up under the pillow.  Rarity was gently combing her mane with a large brush, trying to soothe her. 

“No,” she whined, peeking out at him.  He gave her a warm smile and he was sure she returned it.  “I’ve got such a migraine.”

“We can probably find you some painkillers.  I think the infirmary has been learning a lot about your kind while we’ve been gone.”

She dropped the pillow over her head again.  “Thankyou, but I just need a few hours’ sleep, this has happened before.  Celestia always said I didn’t know when to stop.  Besides, I’ve already asked too much from you.  You must go and help your people now, Riley.”

“I already have.”  He paused, suddenly feeling lost for words.  This was likely the last time he would see her, or any of them.  There was a strange silence and he tried to think how to phrase the next sentence.  “I’m leaving in twenty minutes.”

As if to punctuate his words Alpha Three started its main burn outside, the howl of the engines at full throttle audible across the whole town.  The treehouse trembled slightly as the other two ships added their deafening accompaniments, a low bass rumble felt through their surroundings. 

Twilight tore the pillow away from her head and pushed her head up, startling Rarity.  After so long he had come to recognise the emotions on their faces very well, and Twilight’s was a picture of dismay and sadness.  “So soon… but… I thought.  Oh dear, I thought we’d have more time together!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, truthfully.  It did hurt, very much, in fact.  He had grown far more attached to her than he had intended to.  She was a lovely person… mare.  This was exactly the reason why he had been so determined to keep his distance, but she had blown that all away.  His heart ached, chest tight around it. 

Twilight watched him morosely, bloodshot eyes glittering wetly and the most adorable pout on her lips.  He swallowed the lump in his own throat and looked away, suddenly afraid of his own emotions.  It did seem very unfair. 

“I’m going to miss you,” he told her once he felt he was in control again.  He looked back up.  Rarity had respectfully moved away and he heard her descending the stairs softly and the sound of muted conversation with Derpy below. 

“Oh, Riley,” she sobbed, pulling herself across the bed and wrapping her hooves around his neck, the side of her face pressed against his.  He got to his feet awkwardly and perched on the side of the bed, embracing her fondly.  “I feel like I’ve hardly had any time to get to know you.  It’s been all running and screaming and terror.”

“That’s often when you learn who a man really is,” he murmured, trying to keep the guilt from his voice.  “But I know what you mean.”

“There’s so much we could have learnt from one another.”

He chuckled lightly, she was always the academic at heart.  “I think you’ve already taught me a few things.”

Twilight pushed herself back, her hooves still resting on his shoulders, now facing him, her face inches from his, large, beautiful eyes seemingly depthless.  He found himself resisting a very real, and slightly frightening, desire to kiss her that crept up from somewhere inside.  “Will you ever come back to visit?  Once your war is over?”

He turned his head away, not wanting to see the renewed sadness in her eyes, nor let her see his.  “No.  We can’t.  We don’t know where we are.  We can’t ever return, once we leave.”

“Oh, Riley,” she said again, beginning to cry and leaning into him once more.

“This is very sweet,” said a smooth voice from behind, interrupting them.  “Does this mean I can have the other cutesy little pony, after all?”

Twilight hissed and jumped back to stand on her bed on all fours, glaring at Discord.  She had lowered her head, pointing her horn at him threateningly. Riley narrowed his eyes and climbed to his feet in a flash.  Rarity was halfway up the stairs and Derpy was cowering behind a bookshelf. 

“You.”

“Indeed.  Me.” 

“You liar!” Twilight yelled angrily, her voice shaking.  “As I thought, your promise is worth nothing.”

“Twilight, Twilight,” Discord said, slinking closer and picking up Rarity’s hairbrush.  Twilight stood frozen in outrage as he started to brush her mane.  With a snarl she broke out of it and snapped at him, stealing the brush away.  He leapt nimbly back, avoiding her angry swipe.  “Lie?  To you?  I would never!  Tartarus is sealed.  It has been for hours.”

“Then how have you laid siege to the town?” Riley growled.  He was angry at being interrupted, he had precious little time left now, and he didn’t intend to spend it with this lunatic.  “We had a deal.  Take them away and piss off.”

“I will be out of your hair the moment you leave,” Discord said.  “Why not just go?  I won’t stop you.  You don’t belong here.”

“I’m not budging until you take your monsters away.”

“Monsters is a very harsh word, Riley,” he said, leaning forwards and glaring.  “These are my friends.  My pets.  My children.  Most of them are back where they usually live.  I suppose I just happened to miss a few, on the way.  It’s difficult, you know, rounding them up after three hundred years.  There’s a lot of new ones I don’t remember, and they’re so terribly unruly after so long.  Is it that surprising I missed a couple?”

“You’re up to something,” Riley accused, pointing a trembling finger.  His core felt hot and he had to fight hard to stop from grinding his teeth in rage.

Discord managed to look extremely innocent all of a sudden, his eyes growing in size dramatically.  “Moi?”

Another roar began to shake the ground as the next ship began its launch sequence.  Discord watched him with a smug expression.  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Not for another ten minutes, no.  And there’s still enough firepower in those ships left out there to tear every one of your ‘pets’ to shreds, so I suggest you leave.”

Discord laughed in glee.  “Fighting words!  Fancy yourself a duel, little man, hmm?”

Suddenly he was in front of Riley, and before he had chance to properly react he’d punched him with a comically large red boxing glove, snapping his head back.  On instinct he lunged out with a balled fist, missing completely.  Another punch hit the back of his head and he stumbled sideways, trying to dodge.  Discord was flitting about, never in the same place twice.  Fortunately the ridiculous boxing glove was as soft as a sponge and absorbed any real impact the blows would have had, but it was demeaning and intensely irritating at the same time.

Discord seemed to tire of his game very quickly and stood back, laughing heartily to himself.  “Ah, fun times.  But I didn’t come here to spar with you.  I came to make Princess Twilight Sparkle an offer.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped, muscles straining in her neck.

“Oh, you will,” he said with glee.  “It’s very simple.  It has to do with retribution.”

“What?”

“I can’t even begin to express in words just how torturous three hundred years in that ghastly prison were.  The first few decades, not so bad, a bit dull, but dear old Celly can be quite the conversationalist when she wants to be.  But she also suffers terribly from being very uninteresting, and once you’ve heard her stories once you’ve heard them a hundred thousand dreary times. 

“After the first century had passed I think I had discovered at least eighteen new, previously unknown, types of boredom.  After the second century I had almost gone mad.  The third, however, was the worst, when I discovered despair.  I knew what you had done, you see, and I also knew that if nobody had worked out how to fix it by then, it was never going to get fixed.  You would be trapped in time for eternity, and I would be trapped with her for another one.  That sort of crushing despair can really upset a fellow, let me tell you.

“So, my offer is this.  I won’t crush your pithy little town, and all those you hold dear, if you banish yourself.  Deal?”

Twilight spluttered, shaking her head hard in case she was dreaming.  “Ridiculous!”

“She’ll do no such thing,” Riley said.  “You have no right to demand anything of these poor people.  They’ve suffered enough, suffering brought about by your doing.  If you have a shred of honour or decency you’ll leave and stop tormenting them.”

“Honour, you say?” Discord glared malevolently and Riley suddenly saw the trap he was wandering into.  “I suppose, if I want to be decent and honourable, I should model myself on someone.  Say, how about you?  An upstanding pillar of ethical behaviour.  You’d make an excellent father one day, I would imagine.  Have you ever considered tying the knot?  Buying the cow?  Getting hitched?  No?  What.  A.  Shame.”

There was an awkward silence in which Discord simply smirked, the most evil smile on his lips.  He was enjoying this far too much.  Riley clenched and unclenched his fists by his side, trembling with anger.  Twilight was looking between them, a distressed and confused look on her face.  

“This wonderful, honest, caring man used you, Twilight,” he said gleefully, disappearing and popping up beside Riley, one thick, hairy lion paw around his shoulders.  He shrugged him off angrily.  “This whole time.  ‘Oh, I’m dying, but don’t worry about me!  Do it for my people!’  He knew exactly how to play you, dear Twilight.  So desperate to make friends with everything under the sun, and then some.  Trying so terribly hard to atone for that period of crushing loneliness you called a childhood. 

“He wrapped your heart around his fleshy fingers, even persuaded you to free me instead of your beloved princess.  I couldn’t have hoped for a better saviour.  Did you know he lied about your precious ponies, too?  They’ve got several of them, alive and dead, up in their marvellous spaceships, right this very moment.  He knows this.”

Twilight was looking at Riley, but he couldn’t find the strength to return it.  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.  “I had a job to do.” 

The unicorn sat down on her haunches, fidgeting with her hooves in front of her.  Her mouth worked a few times, but no words came out.  “…everything?”

“No,” he said hastily.  “Just… some of it.  I wasn’t married.  I’ve never had any children.  When you asked me about the kidnappings, I didn’t know, I swear.  I found out soon after, but I’m bound to keep it silent.  I’m sorry.”

She looked even more distraught, and he wished she would say something, even if it was just to shout at him.  

“I’m so sorry, Twilight!  I know it’s wrong, and I knew it was wrong at the time, too, but I had my orders.”

“This is marvellous,” gloated Discord, sailing around them in tight circles, whipping up a breeze.  “The one thing he really didn’t lie about was when he said ‘I’ll only end up hurting you’.  That was classic, and so very apt.  You really should have listened, but I’ve very glad you didn’t.” 

Riley turned on him furiously, lashing out and swearing angrily in English, but the creature dodged him easily, still chuckling as though it were all a game.  “Don’t hate me, I’ve only revealed the facts!  You two have made all the mistakes.”

“So, what do you say, little Twilight?  Banishment?  It’s really not that bad.  It’ll give you some time to reflect upon all these things that have happened lately.  Who knows, perhaps in a few thousand years somebody will stumble across you, and you can come out to play for a bit.  It wouldn’t be so bad.  I’ll even put old Celestia and Luna back in there with you too, if you’d like.  You can pretend to have a tea party, for as long as they last.  

“Maybe you can bend that academic mind to finding some more types of boredom, while you’re there.  Once you’ve got them all you can look for the elements of despair, and work out the intricacies in the theory of ‘I’m never going to see the sun again’.”

Twilight remained silent, and Riley wasn’t even sure she was listening to her tormentor any longer.  She looked spent, her head was hung at an angle that suggested she had finally lost the will to care.  His heart ached and he felt more deeply ashamed than he had ever felt in his life.  

“I think I have learnt another friendship lesson, today,” she eventually said, voice unbearably sad.

Discord jumped up into the ceiling space.  “Perhaps you need some time to decide, princess.  I’ll leave you two alone, I believe you still have a few minutes to spare, human.  Enjoy your last chat.  Goodbye!  And thankyou, so very, very much.  Thankyou.”

He bowed theatrically in the air, and with a wink of light he was gone.  

Riley hesitantly reached a hand out to Twilight but drew it back again, unsure of what to do.  Outside another frigate was running pre-flight checks, the familiar pitched tones of the engines in final check stage just audible.  As an engineer he wasn’t used to situations that couldn’t be repaired, but this one felt unsolvable. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated helplessly.  Twilight sagged further.  “I can’t do anything to make this right.  I’m sorry.  But please, don’t give in to his demands.  Fight him.”

“I don’t think we can,” she said with a sigh, forcing herself shakily to her hooves again and fixing him with a calm, businesslike stare.  “So I’ll ask you one last time.  Will you, the humans, help us?”

His stomach twisted again and he wanted to scream in frustration.  “You know that’s not my decision.  And you know the answer.  We really do have a war to fight elsewhere.”

She sighed, as if she had already known the answer.  When she spoke again it was quiet and slow, and she avoided his gaze.  “You should go now.  Before you miss your opportunity.  I hope you one day find your peace amongst the stars.”

He remained motionless, choking back some very unmanly tears that threatened to overcome him.  At last he fished something out of his pocket and laid it on the bed, a small brown envelope. 

“Goodbye, Twilight Sparkle,” he said, his voice breaking.  He turned and left quickly, rushing down the stairs and out of the front door.  Rarity watched him sullenly as he passed her, and Derpy looked unsure.  She hopped after him and he forced himself to slow down before he injured himself.

“Are you leaving, mister Riley?”

“Yes,” he squeaked, wiping at his eyes.  “Thankyou for everything, Derpy.  You’re a very special pony.”

She looked tremendously sad and uncertain.  She moved to hug him, but he ducked out of the way quickly and ran again, not trusting himself to maintain any sort of composure.  

Running helped, and the sight of the brilliant specks of light high in the sky, trailing vapour, gave him strength.  He was going home, back to the military life he was used to, back to order and structure and work.  It was going to be okay.  This was just a brief, tumultuous week that may as well have been a dream for all the sense it had made.  In time the hurt would lessen, it always did, and the memories would fade, relegated to the occasional drunken tale in a bar somewhere, of importance only to the reminiscing of old, bitter men.

When he arrived at Alpha One he found the ship preparing for take off, one of the last two on the ground, and the other was beginning its main drive with thunderous enthusiasm.  Williams gave him a disapproving look as he hurried into the bridge – he was late.

Their ship had lost its two pilots during the conflicts and he was the next qualified officer, so he strapped himself hastily into the main seat, clipping his safety harness in a hurry and trapping his skin painfully in the clasp.  It had been a while since he’d flown anything other than a simulator, but it was very much a skill you practised so much that forgetting it was like forgetting how to walk.

“Sorry, admiral,” he said crisply, finally in control of his voice again, although it was going to take a long time before his tender emotional state would settle down, but he could hide that for now.  His fingers flew over the controls.  “Synched and board’s green.”

“You have control,” said the copilot, a woman he didn’t recognise.  She was curt and efficient, smartly dressed and composed, a far cry from his red eyes and dishevelled appearance he realised.  He reached for the joystick, but everybody was suddenly very distracted by the arrival of an enormous dragon outside, his great wings beating in the air as he lowered himself to the ground, somewhere further into the town.  

Williams breathed something and immediately ordered them to lift off, Riley was the only one to have met Spike, the others incorrectly assuming he was just another new threat. 

“I have control,” Riley acknowledged, snapping out of it.  He was almost glad to obey, Spike was going to be very angry with him when he found Twilight, and he really didn’t want to be around for that.  From her stories Spike was like a brother to her, and now he was a very large, very dangerous brother.

He pushed the throttles forward until the engines strained against gravity, the spaceframe shuddering around them like an animal tensed to leap.  All systems were showing acceptable performance, the repairs had gone well, everything was running perfectly.  

A flash of light outside caught his attention and he looked up.  With a gasp he slammed the throttles back to rest and the whine of the engines dropped away with a crackle of discharged electricity.

“Lieutenant-commander Collins, I gave the order to take off immediately.  What seems to be the problem?”

“Area not clear, sir,” he replied calmly, swallowing a nervous lump.  Twilight Sparkle had appeared right in front of them, her eyes aflame and staring straight at him through the scratched screen.  He swallowed nervously.  She was shouting something but the sound all around them muffled everything.  He flicked on the external microphones.

“…out here, right now, Riley!” she was shouting.  

“Collins, lift off, now.”

“Sir,” he said hesitantly, unable to obey.  Twilight marched forwards, coming right up to the nose of the ship.  Automatically he shut the engines off entirely, attempting to dust off would kill her for sure, the heat at such a short distance would be tremendous.  He wondered at her sanity, one look at the blackened, smoking craters under where the departed ships had been would have told her everything she needed to know.

Or, maybe that was her intention, he realised.  She didn’t want them to leave, after all.  She was putting her faith in him to disobey orders to save her life.  With a sigh he unbuckled his restraint and made to leave, but Williams stuck his arm out, blocking his way.  “Back to your post, Collins!”

“I’m sorry, sir,” he squeaked.  “I will not murder someone.”

“There’s no time.  She’ll get out the way.”  Riley did not sit back down and Williams’ expression turned harder.  “If you leave this bridge you are not returning.  We will leave you here.”

Riley paused and then gave a curt nod.  “Understood.”

He took a deep breath, pressed past Williams’ arm and thumbed the door stud.  It opened with a hiss and hit its stop with a clang.  He rushed through, running entirely on autopilot now and barely aware of his own actions.  He had just countermanded a direct order, and had been told he was going to be abandoned, but somehow none of that really seemed to matter. 

Behind him he could hear Williams calling orders to the co-pilot, and with a mighty shudder the ship’s engines restarted.  Assuming they meant to take off immediately he knew he had less than a minute to get clear. 

The door in the cargo bay seemed to take forever to open, all the while the engines pulsated through the deck as they worked their way back up to operating levels.  When the gap was wide enough he forced himself through it, falling gracelessly to the ground a couple of metres below.  The wind was knocked from him but there was no time to rest, the exhaust vents above him were already glowing red and he could feel the intense heat from them.   

With a clang the cargo door slammed shut again.  Twilight was suddenly in front of him, right in his face and shouting something.  He couldn’t hear a word over the roar of the ship and he grabbed the unicorn roughly around the barrel, picking her up bodily and part stumbling, part running as fast as he could.  

Twilight struggled angrily, but he held fast.  Behind them the heat had grown intense and the sound was so loud he was sure he could taste and see it.  As the frigate began to rise into the air he gave one last lunge forward and stumbled to the ground, hunched over Twilight as best as he was able.  The back of his neck stung from the excruciating heat and there was a horrible smell of burning hair in the air. 
	
> Chapter 15
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight waited until she heard his footsteps retreating out of the door and Derpy hurrying after him before she fell back down onto the bed and sobbed loudly.  She couldn’t remember feeling so miserable before, the world had lost its colour and if her heart were to simply stop at that very moment she fancied she could not care less.

Rarity’s hooves came thumping up the stairs and her forelegs were immediately around Twilight, hugging her close and stroking her back.  Twilight bawled loudly and unashamedly.

“What a monster,” Rarity was saying, shaking her head angrily.  “Unimaginable!”

Twilight gasped for breath, having to fight hard for every word she said.  “He said he would.  It’s my own fault.  I should have listened.  I shouldn’t have tried.  I’m so pathetic.”

“That’s no excuse, darling!” Rarity exclaimed, squeezing her tightly.  “He’s a conniving rascal, and good riddance to him.  How could he sink so low!”

Twilight just cried more, it was unstoppable, a vast reservoir of tears she didn’t know she had.  Rarity continued making soothing noises, and while she was very glad of her friend’s company and comfort it wasn’t really making a dip in the ocean of despair she currently felt.  

She finally calmed enough to wipe her eyes and snout, sitting up but letting Rarity keep her tight embrace.  “I feel such a fool,” she sniffed.  

“Hush, darling,” Rarity said.  “You are nopony’s fool.  How were we to know how manipulative they could be, hmm?  But it’s over now, they’re gone.”

She gave a short, humourless laugh.  “I’ll still miss him.  Even when he’s gone he’s still going to haunt my heart, I can tell.  And we could have learnt so much from one another.”

She noticed the little envelope he had left, and bitter curiosity drew her to it.  She opened it carefully with her magic, and Rarity watched suspiciously, ready to snatch it away if it threatened her in any way.  

Inside were a couple of small photographs, each about the size of her hoof, printed onto glossy pieces of card.  One was of the four of them, Rainbow Dash grinning triumphantly as she pushed Applejack’s hat over her eyes, Riley grinning at her antics.  The other was just her and Riley, that first moment when they had gotten a bit tangled in one another, both looking a little abashed.  The image was so clear, so perfect, it brought the memory rushing straight back.  He’d left her shortly after that, and she knew now that it was intentional.  He had been trying to distance himself from her, trying to avoid getting into the kind of dire situation she was now suffering from.  He knew, she realised, he knew that something like this would happen, but she’d forced it ahead anyhow.

She dropped the photographs on the bed and burst into tears again.  Her chest hurt as if she were being crushed in a vice.  Rarity tutted and swiped the photos away out of sight, massaging her back lovingly again.  

“It will always hurt to lose a friend,” she said sagely, nodding.

“I think I was falling in love with him,” she sobbed hysterically. 

Rarity drew a small hissed breath and her ministrations paused very briefly, and Twilight felt even more wretched.  

“I’m so pathetic,” she wailed again and Rarity just patted her back wordlessly. 

She was dimly aware of the soft patter of hooves on the stairs, and through blurry eyes she could see Derpy standing sheepishly on the threshold to the room and looking deeply unsure.  “Umm, miss Sparkle, there’s a lot of ponies outside who want to come in.  Is the library open?  Shall I tell them to go away until tomorrow?”

Twilight sat up and sniffed back her tears, no doubt they wanted her to do something about the ring of monsters surrounding the town, to save the day, like she always did.

Only, this time, it would be different.  She was sure the moment she stepped outside Discord would appear to mock her some more and demand her answer.  To fight, or to be banished.  If she fought then they were certain to be crushed, the town was exhausted, damaged and demoralised, they couldn’t hope to prevail against his assembled might.  

If she surrendered then Equestria would be left without a strong ruler, Celestia had admitted that she could no longer protect the lands.  Could the two princesses repel Discord in their weakened state?  Could Luna even rule on her own, assuming they did win the fight?  And for how long?  There were too many questions and unknowns.  

What was clear to her, however, was that she needed to get over what had happened and be strong for the ponies that looked to her.  Even if it looked like all paths lead to failure she had to do something.

“If only we had the Elements of Harmony,” she said with a sigh.  “But we never worked out where they were.  I don’t know where to start.”

“Mister Riley has got them,” Derpy said casually, preening her wings.  

“What?” she snapped, looking up sharply.

“The six pretty crystal thingies that you used to wear?  Discord gave them to him as a present.”

“What?” Twilight shouted again, standing up sharply.  She spluttered and tried to think straight.  “By the stars above, I understand!”

“What?” Rarity echoed, wide eyed and alarmed.  Twilight was practically vibrating with energy, hopping up and down in place on the bed.  She had brought it with her from Canterlot, there was nothing quite like your own bed, after all, but the old springs were complaining bitterly.  She wasn’t as light as she used to be as a filly when she had last jumped up and down on it.

“Don’t you see?  He’s removing everything that can oppose him.  He wants me banished, but if that doesn’t work then he wants the Elements removed.  He can’t destroy them, so he’s given them to the humans, to take away forever.  That’s why he’s let them go, why he encouraged it!  He’s done everything they asked for, just to get them to leave.  They can’t ever return here, so the Elements would be lost to us for all time.  

“Oh this is very, very, very, extremely bad.  We have to get them back!”

“Twilight,” Rarity began, but whatever she was going to say was lost as Twilight hopped across the town in a series of rapid teleports. 

She came to stand right before Riley’s space-ship, blinking away the remains of the headache she had.  There were more important things at hoof now.  She could see him up in the big window across the front, and he looked down at her, surprise written on his face.  The frightful racket the ship was making abruptly lessened and she shouted at him, demanding he come out and face her.  

He blinked at her, uncomprehending, and she strode forwards until she was as close to him as she could get.  The ship quietened down, the engines shutting off completely with a low crackling whine that tailed off.   Suddenly he was moving, and a few moments later the big door at the back of the ship opened up and he fell out on the ground in a heap.  

She cantered towards him beneath the belly of the metal beast and cowered slightly as it roared again, the ground shaking and the air vibrating with the intensity of it. Riley spotted her and before she knew what was happening he had picked her up in his strong arms and was running.  She flailed and tried to get free but he was much stronger than she. 

She flattened her ears against her skull in an attempt to cut out the painfully loud noise all around, but nothing helped, the sound was felt through her bones now, not her ears.  Suddenly Riley fell and they landed heavily on the ground, his body covering hers as an intense heat licked at the ground around them, dirt and leaves whipping past them so hard they stung. 

When the sound died away she realised he had saved her life, in her haste to get to him she had failed to think through what was about to happen.  The captive inferno the ships seemed to contain had left a scorched, smoking crater in the lawn, a testament to their other-worldly power.

“What in God’s name were you doing?” he yelled, and she could barely hear him over the ringing in her ears, despite his face being only inches from hers.  He sat up, releasing her roughly, and the sound from the ship was already dying away as it ascended rapidly into the lightening sky.  “Stupid, stupid, stupid!  You nearly got cooked alive.”

She found her wits at last.  “The Elements of Harmony!” she cried back.  Her own voice sounded strange to her numb hearing, thin and distant, like hearing somepony else through a door.  “Where are they?”

He looked at her in confusion and her temper flared irrationally.  “What?”

She poked a hoof in his chest and he took a step back, holding his arms out to the side.  “The crystals that Discord gave you.  Where are they?”

Riley pointed up at the departing spacecraft, and Twilight screamed a wordless howl of frustration.  Of course they were up there, where else would he have put them.  He must have intended to keep them from her, after all.  What better place away from the mare who was afraid of heights.  No, that was ridiculous… 

Focus, Twilight.

“You have to get them back,” she snapped, advancing on him again.  “They are the most powerful artefacts on this planet.  They weren’t his to give and they are certainly not yours to take!”

This time he stood his ground.  “What are they?”

She stamped at the ground in impotent frustration and forced her breathing to calm, getting worked up wasn’t helping matters.  She spoke quickly, but didn’t care, he could keep up.  “They’re a… a weapon, I suppose.  They’re the only thing capable of stopping Discord.  He means to rule Equestria.  With those out of the way there’s nothing to stop him.  This world is doomed without them.  He’ll rule for a thousand years of chaos and strife.  It’ll be the end of everything ponykind has built over the last millennia.  We need them!”

Riley searched her face, looking for any hint of treachery.  She glared back, she would not sink to lies.  “And it will all be your fault.  If there’s any noble spirit left in your soul then, by Celestia, you will help us for once.”

There was a pause during which they just glared at one another, and she was preparing to leap at him and knock him down, having to glare up at him all the time made her angry, too.  She was sure he did that purposefully, too, grew so tall just to spite her.  

Eventually he nodded and pressed a hidden button on his jacket collar, activating some sort of radio, and Twilight watched anxiously as he apparently spoke to the thin air in his own language.  She didn’t understand it but there were a few choice words she was starting to recognise, and he began to use them more and more as his expression turned sour. 

“I’m sorry.  They won’t give them back, Twilight,” he said with a sigh, dropping his arm to his side again, and Twilight glared at him even more fiercely.  It was very frustrating to not know what he had said.  Had he even tried?  Or was it just a ruse to placate her?  

“They’ve already investigated them.  The admiral won’t give them up lightly.  Besides, even if they wanted to they’re already on their way, they can’t turn back now and risk losing their window.”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned forwards threateningly, horn tingling pre-emptively.  “Did you tell them how important they are?”

He shot her a withering look.  “Of course, but that won’t make a difference.  Look, I know how these people work, Twilight.  They won’t give them up, not if they’ve worked out how valuable they could be.”

“But we’re doomed without them!” she wailed, loosing control of her voice again.  Her wings flared of their own accord.  “Doomed!”

“Well then I’m doomed with you, I suppose.”  She looked up at him sharply and he had a silly, cheerful grin on his face.  Considering the circumstances it was too cheerful to be sincere.  She looked around and realised that with his ship all the humans had finally gone, the only ships remaining were the derelict ones.  

The hustle and bustle of the past week had died away, too, no more aliens standing around chattering in their odd language, no more guns, no more exciting machinery.  Even the air seemed thinner, quieter and emptier, the odd but somehow familiar smells of oil and humans missing now.  

“Oh,” she said, realising what had happened.  He had marooned himself, all because she had nearly killed herself by standing under his spaceship.  “Oh dear.  Oh Riley, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean…  You’re trapped here, because of me, aren’t you?”

There was a flash of something on his face, but she couldn’t read it.  “It’s okay,” he said, kneeling down next to her.  She looked doubtful, suddenly feeling a lot less incensed, all the righteous fury had evaporated in the blink of an eye.   “Really, it is.  I feel… strangely free.”

“I don’t think that’s going to last for very long,” she said glumly.  “If I don’t do what he wants he’ll take everypony here.  He’ll burn everything, or worse.”

Riley held her gaze firmly and she felt that little flutter that she remembered from before.  No amount of anger or betrayal could dull that.  “If we could get them back, are you certain you can stop him?”

“Yes.  We’ve done it before, we can do it again,” she told him confidently.

“Then there is one way, maybe,” he said, very hesitantly.  “I really, really don’t want to go back there.  But I’ll do it, if it’ll give you a chance.”

She looked up hopefully, willing to clutch at any straw, no matter how thin and dry it might be.  “They’re going to need at least another twelve hours before they can safely enter hyperspace.  If I can get up there in time, maybe I can dock with them before they realise what’s happening and get them back.  I know exactly where they’ll be in the hold.”

Twilight looked upwards sceptically.  The little pinpricks of light that represented the human fleet were just bright stars now, moving imperceptibly against the lightening sky.  It didn’t look hopeful.  “I don’t think even Rainbow Dash can fly that high up.”

“There’s one more ship,” he said.  “I hope.  The one I went to get the warp core from.  The command module can be detached, it’ll get us up there, if we can power it, but we need to get to it first.  It’s risky, there’s a limited chance of success.  Also, there’s… things… around there, creatures I’d rather not meet again.”

Twilight hummed thoughtfully, it wasn’t much, but it sounded like the only plan they had.

“Spike is here,” she said, turning to look in the direction of her former assistant.  “He can take you there.”

“Twilight!” came the voice of Rainbow Dash, and they both looked up to see her flying straight for them.  She tackled Twilight in a flying hug, knocking them both to the ground, and Twilight laughed in joy, it was a relief to see the pegasus again.  Applejack galloped up moments later. 

“Thank Celestia you’re okay, hun!” she said, taking her hat off.  “We were so worried about you.”

She nodded to Riley and he nodded back.  

“Hey, big guy,” Rainbow said with a grin, stepping aside and letting her friend back up.  “Thanks for looking after our girl, here.”

He nodded again, hesitantly, not daring to say a word.  Twilight forced herself to look calm, the others didn’t need to know what was happening, not yet, at least.  It was, however, a gentle reminder that things were not as cheerful as they seemed, and she sighed.  

Spike was resting over in a clearing, he had said he wasn’t comfortable trying to land next to the library, there wasn’t a lot of space as the townsfolk had already made a start on repairing the town, industriously setting up scaffolds and cutting wood.  There was nowhere for a dragon of his size to settle without getting in the way and squashing things, not to mention the distraction he caused.

“But I’m tired, Twilight,” he whined quietly when she approached him.  “It was a hard flight from Canterlot, we rushed here.  I have to sleep a lot these days.”

“You always had to sleep a lot,” she said fondly, forgetting for a moment that he was three hundred years old.  He gave her a silly grin, sharp teeth glinting in the morning light.

He had gathered quite a crowd of ponies all around.  They had been afraid of him at first, but once he settled down and spoke to them they had grown more confident and were coming closer, forming an inquisitive ring.  A few foals were playing around the end of his spiked tail, daring each other to touch it.  None of them believed him, when he told them he was the little dragon who used to help in the town’s library, Twilight’s number one assistant.  

“It’s important, we’ve found the Elements, but we need you to help fetch them.  One last flight, I promise.”

He reluctantly agreed in the end, after much cajoling from the ponies.  “If I must.”

Riley told her that he needed some parts from the remains of the downed spacecraft first, and despite her displeasure with him she followed anyhow, curious to find out more about their technology.  She was trying hard to remain angry with him, or at least keep her distance, but he seemed genuinely sorry and there was no denying he was stuck here now.  That had to count for something, she decided, he had no reason to follow some hidden agenda now. 

Or did he?  Twilight realised that he was proposing flying up to join his fellow humans in orbit.  Would he just stay there?  She growled in the back of her throat, angry at whatever fate had brought her here.  Everything seemed so conflicted, her heart was torn in two directions, half wanting to hate him for putting their whole world in danger, and the other half wanting things back like they had been, wanting to trust him again, against her own better judgement.

Rarity finally caught up with her as she followed him, and Twilight hastily explained what was going on before she could accost him.  She looked about ready to give him a piece of her mind, glaring at his back unflinchingly.  Twilight suddenly felt a lot sorrier for him.  If he didn’t pull through with the Elements then she suspected Discord was going to be the least of his problems.

Twilight was easily distracted, and when Riley began poking around in the remains of the downed ships she quickly put her differences aside and joined him in his prodding.  This time he didn’t tell her to stop, at least not until she stuck her snout in a little too far and got in his way, then he bopped her on the nose with an oily finger.

The human technology was so intricate.  Everything was made up of other smaller pieces, and as he dismantled them they had even tinier components inside.  She gave up trying to work out what everything did, and he didn’t seem to be in the mood to explain as he was going, partly due to a lack of words in her own language and party because of time constraints.  Rarity had backed off to a safe distance – grime covered everything – and at one point when he disconnected some tubing a burst of slimy blue fluid sprayed across the room, only just missing her.  She left quickly after that.

Half an hour later they emerged, Riley completely covered in dark smudges and Twilight with her own share of mysterious smelling dirt.  At least Riley would be able to change his clothes, she could hardly shave all her fur off.  Poking at it just smudged it deeper into her coat.  Rarity would surely know what to do, right?

“That thing powers the whole craft?” she asked, looking at the relatively small device he was wheeling on a trolley.  It was about the size of a pony, a peculiar contraption surrounded by metal tubing and dangling cables.  

“No, this is just a backup supply for life support functions.  We stripped out the main generators.  They’re much bigger.  This will provide enough power to get the command module airborne if we overdrive it.  It’s only got to last an hour.”

“How does it work?”

“Induced atomic fission, it forces the decay of a specific isotope of radium and heats a nano-fluid to drive a few billion very small heat engines.  They’re pretty reliable, and the fuel source lasts for a couple of thousand years if left dormant.”

It didn’t mean a whole lot to Twilight, particularly as he resorted to using the human words for a few things, but then she realised with a guilty thrill that he was going to be stuck with them for the foreseeable future, and she would have plenty of time to get him to explain everything he knew.  It could be the beginning of a whole new era of science, she thought eagerly. 

“Can he carry this safely?” Riley asked, looking at Spike’s formidable claws.  Twilight had wrapped it up in many layers of blankets and tied some ropes around it to hold the package together, but she could see his reason for concern.  

“I can pretend it’s an egg, if you want,” Spike said, picking it up delicately between two claws.  He lifted if effortlessly off the trolley as if it were a leaf and Twilight fancied she saw Riley swallow nervously.  

“It’s our only chance of getting your crystals back,” Riley said loudly.  “Just, be careful, please.  It’ll be a lot messier than an egg if you drop it, as well.  We’re talking a crater the size of this town.”

This time it was Twilight’s turn to gulp nervously, and she kept a careful eye on it as they sailed through the air, high above Ponyville.  Discord had sent some winged beasts after them, but a few rounds from Riley’s rifle had scattered them and Spike could fly very quickly in short bursts when he wanted to, darting one way then another with stomach churning drops and banks.

“I’m coming with you,” Twilight said firmly, repeating herself for the third time.  Riley was arguing with her again, he thought she should have stayed behind.  She told him that she didn’t trust him, and he seemed willing to accept that.  Secretly, she just wanted some time to talk to him, and that wasn’t going to happen back at Ponyville with Rarity hovering around angrily. 

“I’m not leaving, you know,” he said after a long moment of relative silence, only the rush of wind in their ears.

“I never thought you would,” she lied, avoiding looking at him.  The scenery far below was interesting, after all.  Even if it was a long way down.  A very long way down.

He continued, “They wouldn’t let me back in, anyhow, not after that.  Williams doesn’t forgive easily, I’d be punished severely when we returned.  Probably wouldn’t be allowed to stay in the fleet anymore.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.  

“I guess I deserved it.”

She looked up at him at last, he looked upset, more so than she had seen him before.  “Are you going to be okay?”

“I hope so.  I’m a bit worried.  Even if we do win your fight, what then?  Where will I go?  I haven’t got a future here.”

“You can stay here, of course,” she said, inching closer to him on Spike’s scaled back.  His impressively large spines were between them, forming a large green wall.  She saw that Riley was clinging onto one of them like a frightened child clinging to its mother.  Off to the other side Spike’s wings moved up and down with slow, powerful strokes.  Underneath that, nothing, just a few clouds.  The air was chill and whipped past them. 

“Can you forgive me?” He paused.

“If you stay true to your word, perhaps,” she said, wishing she didn’t have to shout over the wind noise.  She had neglected to account for that when she had imagined them having some time to themselves.  She was pretty sure Spike could hear them as well, they had to talk so loudly. 

“I promise.  But I don’t think I could stay here, if you didn’t.  The things I said just sort of slipped out.  I was under orders to do whatever was necessary to succeed, and I know that’s not an excuse, and there were probably better ways to achieve my goal, but I wasn’t feeling my best at the time.  I am truly sorry.”  

“I wish you had told me about the ponies your admiral captured.  They were my people.”  

“They are still your people,” he said.  “They’ve taken them for study, not to be executed.  Things will be different for them, of course, and they may well be unhappy, but they will still have a life, which may be more than we can say for ourselves if this plan doesn’t work.

“I promise, I haven’t lied or intentionally misled you about anything else.  I tried my hardest to be transparent with you in everything.  You must know that, to the best of my abilities.  I honestly do care about you, and your people.”

“I know,” she replied, looking down to hide a small smile.  He looked relieved, and she felt another burst of warmth in her heart.  It was going to be okay, finally.  Maybe their friendship would always be a little tarnished, but it might fade, given time, the scars would become hidden under better times.   

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do here,” he continued.  “I mean, basic logistics aside, I’m the only one of my kind on the entire planet.  I can’t fly, I’ve got no magic, I can’t eat grass and flowers.  I just don’t fit in here, Twilight.  What if I get ill?”

“We’ll worry about that after we’ve solved the current problem,” she told him firmly.  

Riley remained unconvinced, staring thoughtfully into the distant clouds, squinting against the wind that blew.  The sun wasn’t visible yet, but they could tell it wasn’t very far away from the intensity of the glow spilling up from the horizon.

“There was always a plan before.  I knew where my life was heading, I knew what I was doing every step of the way.  There was always a way out.  Now there’s just… nothing.”

Twilight tried to imagine herself in his position, marooned on a world full of humans.  The prospect didn’t seem that bad, she decided, there would never be a dull moment, that was for sure.  

“I’ve never felt so alone,” he finally said, closing his eyes.

“You’re not alone!” she exclaimed, leaning between Spike’s spines.  “Maybe we don’t look like you, but that’s not what’s important.  It’s what’s inside that matters, and we’re all the same there.  You’ll never be alone, Riley.”

He thanked her softly, but she felt like he didn’t really believe her, and her chest hurt.  “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about a shortage of things to keep you busy, either.  We’ve got three centuries of chaos to clear up.  You’ll have plenty to do, I promise.  And if you get ill, well, we’ll just have to manage.  At least you probably can’t catch many of our coughs and colds.”

“I feel like I’m going to, it’s freezing up here.”  She forced a bright laugh, hoping to bring some warmth back into their conversation.  The thin air wasn’t the only thing that felt cold. 

Spike began their descent under Riley’s guidance, dropping down through the clouds gently.  The mist formed tiny droplets all over Twilight’s coat, changing her colour temporarily silver and making her shiver.  It was an unpleasant experience, lost in the mist for what felt like an eternity.  Down became very subjective, and she could easily convince herself they weren’t flying straight. 

She knew she could put her trust in Spike, however, and sure enough the clouds began to thin until they were flying just below, skimming the underside and almost close enough to touch, or so it seemed.  Riley was looking less morose now, alert and confident, like the man she remembered.  He was peering cautiously over Spike’s sides, scanning the thick trees below.  Twilight did the same on her side, swallowing the terror in her gut.  Although she wasn’t sure what she was looking for Riley assured her she’d know it when she saw it. 

“I see something,” Spike called back, arching his long neck to turn one glittering eye on them.  They both squinted into the distance, trying to make out detail.  There was something in the trees, a smudge of darkness amongst the green tops.  Riley agreed and Spike surged forward with a burst of speed. 

“Wow,” Twilight breathed as they dropped lower and closer to the crash site.  There were two furrows, dark and shadowed.  One was long, suggesting an oblique impact as the craft crashed through the trees, uprooting and snapping them.  The other was much shorter but appeared to have been on fire at some point.  As they drew near she could see the twinkling of artificial lights surrounding a dark wreck.

“Can we circle it a few times?”

Spike did as Riley asked and Twilight watched his face as he peered anxiously into the clearing, searching the trees for the imps he had told her about in hushed, frightened tones.  She was sure she hadn’t heard of anything like them before, but Spike had told her about them from books he had read, and she could see how afraid Riley was.  It was unusual to see him terrified, he never seemed afraid of anything, even when the lights went out and the water rushed in he had seemed calm and collected, unconcerned by it all.  To see him so afraid of something else was deeply unnerving.

“I want you two to stay out of the way,” he announced as Spike circled downwards, almost brushing the tree-tops with his long wings.  “Let me down, and then fly away.”

“I’m coming with you,” Twilight told him immediately, holding her head high.

His voice was firm, a short scowl on his face. “No, you’re not.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, I can do that myself.”

“If anything so much as twitches while I’m down there then I’m going to shoot it,” he said, patting the rifle slung around his shoulder.  “I don’t want you anywhere near me.  The most likely thing I’ll see is you.  That’s exactly how they got me last time.”

“Last time?”

Spike turned his head back again, eye glittering in the dim light.  “They prey on your loved ones, those closest to your heart, or your deepest fears.  That’s how they lead you away into the light.  I’ve read all about them.  They can’t affect me, though.  I’m far too big.”

Twilight watched Riley with new insight, he had seen her, of all ponies?  The thought warmed her soul, as much as she wished it didn’t.  She had already had her hooves burned once after she let herself become too close.

“Are you completely sure of that?” Riley asked, hesitating to turn and look at them both.  “I’ll admit I’m terrified, particularly of going down there on my own.  But I’m equally afraid I’ll hurt one of you.  I’ve seen what these things can do.  They took my whole team out.”

Spike nodded.  “You and Twilight do what you have to do, I’ll stand watch.  I don’t think they’ll approach with me here, even if they are still around.  Hopefully the Discord has rounded them up already, anyway.”

Riley looked extremely unsure, and even Twilight couldn’t suppress the dread weight that started to form in her stomach.  Spike was making his final approach by now, crashing down through the small trees that had avoided the fires.  The forest around looked extremely dark and foreboding, the twisted branches above their heads in stark contrast to the dimly lit sky beyond.  With a gulp she spotted a few darker patches on the ground, stained with old blood.  The area was generally a mess, broken pieces of human technology scattered everywhere and shattered, burned trees ready to injure an unwary hoof.

She heard Riley adjust his weapon and in one fluid movement he had slid down from Spike’s back, the rifle held up high as he pressed himself against the dragon’s flank, scanning the trees intently through the little scope mounted on the top.  Twilight slithered down after him, heart pounding hard.  His nervous energy was infectious.  Without a word he gestured for her to follow him and began hurrying in a crouch towards the stricken ship.  Spike had delicately placed the carefully wrapped bundle beside it and was carefully cutting the cords with his sharp claws. 

“Stay here,” he commanded her while hopping up into the great tear down the side of the ship.  Twilight turned her back to the hole and watched Spike.  He was alert, his great head swinging back and forth, scales gleaming dully in the bright artificial light.  There was no sign of movement, although the seeds of fear Riley had planted were quickly growing into small jungles and everywhere she looked she convinced herself she could see shadows.  

Spike shuffled closer, his body forming a protective wall around her and the entrance to the ship.  He growled softly, although for a creature his size that was still a deeply resonant sound that shook the ground beneath her hooves.  She peered over his tail curiously.

“Celestia!” she cried, relieved to see the elegant, bright form of her mentor.  She had escaped from the underworld at last, and come to find her.  The alicorn’s coat glowed like the morning sun itself, radiant and strong, illuminating the gloomy clearing and bringing warmth and light and hope into her heart. 

“Stay there, Twilight,” Spike growled, voice low.  “Whatever you can see’s an apparition, and you well know it.”

“But it’s her,” she said happily, spreading her wings and preparing to leap over his tail.  There was no question about it.  Celestia had never looked so beautiful before.  Spike raised his tail, blocking her path, and she batted it with her hooves, annoyed with him.  

The sharp sound of Riley’s gun nearly made her jump out of her skin as bullets hurtled over her head.  Celestia’s brilliant white fur was abruptly stained red and she fell to the floor in a heap, much smaller all of a sudden.  Twilight screamed in horror, but before she could properly react Riley had jumped down behind her and grabbed her.  He pulled her roughly back with him and into the dark interior of the ship.

Twilight scrabbled to get away but his grip was firm and unrelenting, fierce to the point of hurting.  Everything seemed dreamlike, he had just shot Celestia!  She turned, about to unleash her righteous fury on him.

“Focus, Twilight,” he was shouting at her.  “This is what they do.  Whatever you saw, it wasn’t real.  It was one of them.  I warned you this would happen, don’t make me regret allowing you with me.  Now come, we have work to do.” 

She blinked hard and shook her head, everything felt so confusing.  She tried to remember why she had even come on this trip, it seemed like madness now.  What if he was wrong?  Celestia hadn’t looked like a trick of the mind.  She had helped get Twilight out of the underworld, shooting at her was very unfriendly.

“Focus!” he shouted, shaking her roughly, and she finally snapped out of it.  

He had her help him manoeuvre the delicate and weighty power module up into the dark innards of the frigate.  The floor and walls were at a very awkward angle which made everything twice as difficult as it should be and Riley swore in his own tongue several times as he banged his head and back on things.  For her part she concentrated on the task at hand, trying not to thing about the things outside, whatever they were.  Even inside she could hear Spike’s angry growls, keeping them at bay. 

Riley seemed to take an age to install the machine.  Twilight wished she was able to assist better, but she felt like a hindrance more than a help.  Whenever he asked her to help hold something in place she felt as if she was letting him down when it wasn’t quite steady enough or in exactly the correct position.  He didn’t smile once.

When he finally emerged from the small hole he had crawled into he was scratched and smudged with grease, but he nodded to her and announced they were good to go.  He moved further into the front of the ship and she followed.  They appeared to be in the very tip of it, looking out through a wide, narrow window, scratched and pitted after years of service.  Twilight ducked under a console and peered into the gloom with interest.  There were four reclined seats, festooned with levers and switches, and every available surface in the compact space was covered in displays and buttons.  

With a sudden whirr and a flash of light the entire room lit up like a Hearthswarming decoration, tiny little lights everywhere in a multitude of different colours, although the predominant shade was red.  Many small screens had lit up with small shimering diagrams and text was scrolling quickly across them.  Riley was busy flicking switches and tapping at keyboards, evidently intimately familiar with matters.

“Can you hold Discord off for a few more hours?” he asked as he worked.  Somewhere underneath her hooves the deck of the ship shuddered and a few loud clunks could be felt.  She looked around, realising he meant to try and leave her behind again.  She wasn’t about to let him out of her sight, she had decided.  This was also the only opportunity she was going to get to have a ride in their marvellous space-ships as well, a little voice in the back of her head reminded her. 

She hopped up on one of the reclined chairs and sat awkwardly, head bowed to one side to avoid hitting it on the console above.  “I’m coming with you, of course.”

He turned and looked like he was going to argue, but in the end simply sighed and turned back to fiddling with controls.  “It’s going to be difficult, uncomfortable and there’s a pretty limited chance of success.”

“Then you’ll need all the help you can get,” she said stubbornly.  “You promised me a ride in your spaceship, too.”

“I said no such thing,” he exclaimed indignantly.  “You promised yourself a ride.  I really think you’d be better off staying here.”

She shook her head resolutely and twisted to lie on her side, watching him defiantly.  He sighed again and stood up to slide the door closed.  It locked shut with a clang.  Some more bangs and clanking noises came from underneath her, felt through the chair, hidden machinery twisting and turning with intriguing noises. 

“At least strap yourself in properly,” he said, pushing her onto her back gently.  He rummaged underneath her, pulling out some straps with buckles and clips on it, and a little awkwardly he helped attach her to the seat.  She questioned if it was really necessary.  It was certainly uncomfortable, her physiology was quite dissimilar to the humans, and while her joints would bend that far it was an unpleasant position to be strapped in.  The bands he clipped around her chest were very tight and the pockets her hindlegs were in crushed her almost painfully tightly.   

“Absolutely necessary.  Without the rest of the ship to drag around this’ll pull thirty gees.  We won’t hit anywhere near that, but if you even remain conscious during the initial burn I’ll be impressed.  I know I didn’t used to on my rookie flights.”

He gave one last tug on everything and then patted her on the shoulder with a grim smile.  “Welcome to flight camp.”

“Rainbow Dash is always threatening me with that,” she said glumly.  “Maybe I should have taken her up on the offer.”

“Oh, trust me,” he said with a more honest grin.  She was suddenly a bit worried that he seemed to be enjoying this.  “Whatever she does to you will be nothing in comparison to this.”

She tried to pay attention to the buttons he was pressing but quickly realised she hadn’t a chance of guessing what any of them did.  Somehow in her mind she had imagined there would just be a big lever for forwards and maybe something to steer it with.  This was far more complicated.  

“One final thing, under absolutely no circumstances must you use your magic.  I’ve experienced first hand what it does to the electronics in my head, if it has anything like the same effect on the computers that stabilise this craft then we’ll be dead in the air, or worse.  Understand?”

She nodded mutely.  The temptation to use her magic to try and loosen the straps had almost won.  He had strapped himself into his own seat in seconds and then thumbed another control.  “Spike, can you hear us?”

“Very loudly!” came Spike’s deafening voice from outside, heard clearly through the thick walls of the ship.  

“Would you mind detaching us from the main body?  Carefully!”

With a lurch and a shudder they suddenly moved, and Twilight swallowed a nervous squeak as Spike put them down on the floor of the clearing with a jolt.  Riley instructed him to stand back and with a deafening roar the craft rose shakily into the air.

Twilight felt exceptionally nervous all of a sudden, everything around them was shaking and the noise was filling her entire head with its constant howl.  She felt trapped, the belts around her chest and legs were too tight, forcing the blood into her head so that her pulse throbbed in her temples and horn.  She squeezed her eyes shut, cutting off the view of the swaying treetops outside.  She felt a gentle pressure on her foreleg and opened her eyes again to see Riley watching her with concern, his hand squeezing her gently. 

“Are you sure about this?”

She swallowed her fear and nodded, giving him a weak smile.  She had wanted this, after all, and there was no way she was letting him get away without her now. 

He returned her nod and gave his attention back to the consoles and displays.  She watched as he pushed a lever forwards, causing the pitch of the pervasive sound to change to a much higher tone.   They lurched forwards as though somepony had kicked them from behind, and she was forced back into the seat, harder and harder with every passing second.  

Riley glanced at her again, also forced back in his seat.  The muscles in his neck were corded tightly and he had a silly grin on his face.  She was barely able to turn her head.  Outside the trees and meadows were a solid green blur underneath them, and the hills in the distance were approaching faster than should be possible.  They banked gently, the crushing forces tailing off as Riley brought them to cruising speed.  

Not more than a few minutes had passed when Twilight realised with a shock that they were no longer over land.  In such a short period of time they had travelled to the coast and beyond.  Riley was grinning at her, clearly enjoying her astonishment.  “We’re moving at five times the speed of sound,” he told her smugly.  

Twilight shook her head in disbelief, it was a meaningless number.  “I think Rainbow Dash would kill to experience this,” she said, a little breathlessly. 

“Well, if we survive this, maybe I’ll give all you guys rides when we get back.  But for now, we need to punch out of your atmosphere and transfer to a lunar orbit as soon as possible, there’s not a lot of time left, solar radiation is already starting to rise dangerously.  Try to tense all your muscles as hard as you can.  It’ll help you stay awake.  And remember – no magic.”  

Suddenly the view outside shifted as they turned to point straight upwards.  Twilight was glad she hadn’t eaten recently as she fought the urge to be sick.  Riley began tapping at different consoles and pulling on different levers, and with a whine from the engines the same unpleasant forces returned, crushing her back into the chair with even more ferocity than before.  The colour seemed to leech from the world, fading darker and darker until she finally gave up and passed out.

When she came to again she felt as groggy as if she had just woken from a deep sleep.  The accelerative forces had gone, and so had the brightness from outside.  Now there was just blackness.  As she looked closer, however, she could see it wasn’t completely black, there were a million uncountable stars out there too.  The view was limited through the small window, but it was still breathtaking. 

“Welcome back,” Riley said softly.  The sound had gone, everything was quiet now, the roar of the machinery blessedly absent apart from small electronic bleeps and ticking sounds.  He had unclipped himself and leant over to loosen her own belts.  She felt very peculiar, and realised now that it wasn’t just disorientation and sickness from the takeoff experience.  Her nose felt stuffy and all the blood seemed to be in her head. 

“We’re weightless,” she said in awe, watching her tail floating between her legs.  It was mesmerising.    

Riley nodded, turning sideways to hover beside her.  “How do you feel?  You’re the first pony to visit space.”

“Like I’ve got a cold,” she said.  Her voice sounded strange in her own head, loud and nasal.

“No gravity to drain your sinuses,” he said.  “You get used to it.”

“How long was I unconscious?”

“About fifteen minutes.  It’s quite normal, everybody does it the first few times.  Look,” he said, turning to thumb a control.  The stars outside panned across the viewport and the moon burst into view, strangely large and very, very bright.  She gasped. 

“Can we see our planet, too?”

“Not as well, we have to stay within the…” he lapsed off into a human word again, and shrugged.  “There’s a protective boundary your planet creates that shields us from the sun.  We have to stay within it, which means keeping to the dark side.”

The ship rotated again, almost ponderously.  The moon slid out of view and the stars skimmed by until the sun shone in on them, an unbearably bright light.  She held a hoof up to her eyes to shield them, but without the familiar pull of gravity she overshot and hit herself on the forehead.  To her dismay Riley had seen it and was chewing his lip, clearly trying not to laugh. 

“There she is,” he said.  “We named your planet Sleipnir, after a horse-god from our mythology.”

The window had become slightly tinted now, and the glare from the sun was less severe.  She squinted into the darkness and realised that they were looking right at it, a huge slender crescent of blue light in the darkness.  The atmosphere reflected the sunlight brightly.  

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, leaning forwards.  Riley had wisely left her partially strapped in, and so she didn’t go careening wildly into the window.  

“When we get back I’ll show you some photos of my own world, seen from further away.  Yours will look almost identical.”

“I would like that,” she murmured.  It was hard to pay attention to him when there was so much to look at from outside.  Many ponies had theorised on what the planet would look like from space, and there had been some misguided attempts to launch magical rockets in the past, but nothing had been particularly successful.  Seeing it in person was an almost mystical experience. 

“Soon we’re going to have to shut off most of our electrical systems,” he warned, turning back to various consoles.  “We’ll be leaving the protection of the magnetic field.  Until we get into orbit around the moon.  Once we’re on the far side we will come back online.  We can’t risk damaging the generator.”

“Is that safe?”

“Not really, no,” he said reluctantly.  “But it’s the best we can do.  We should have about thirty minutes of air without the scrubbers.  Plenty of time.”

They spent a frightful half hour floating through the void of space, and while Riley told her they were moving at a ridiculous speed without any nearby frame of reference it was impossible to really feel it.  The ship was deathly quiet, only the gentle hiss of their breathing and the occasional ping of cooling metal broke the silence.  Riley had told her to stay quiet and to relax, they needed to conserve what air they had.  Twilight found her thoughts wandering wildly, running back through all the things that had happened in the last week.  It seemed so much more than their usual adventures, none of those had involved three centuries and alien races.  It also gave her time to dwell on the facts at hoof, that she was floating in a small metal box an unthinkable distance from home, breathing a small bubble of air that was running out.  It was getting uncomfortably hot in the small cockpit, the cooling systems were also offline. 

“I think we’re good,” Riley announced softly, leaning forward to work the controls again.  With a gentle whine the cockpit lit up once more, the lights and controls twinkling all around again.  Twilight hadn’t realised how much she could miss the sound of the machinery.  A soft and thankfully cool breeze flowed again, wafting her mane around her face in the weightless environment.

“There they are,” he said some time later.  She squinted out of the viewport again, but there was nothing visible, just the great bulk of the moon off to one side, impossibly large.

“We’ll be there in four minutes,” he said.  “We’re going to have to fly in silently or they’ll spot us.  I still have override access to their systems, once we’re closer I can lock off the cargo bay and we should be able to dock safely.”

Twilight nodded.  “What should I do?”

“Stay here,” he said firmly.  “You’ve had your joyride, now I need to do what I came for.  It won’t take…”

Riley trailed off.  Twilight stretched her neck, trying to see what he was looking at on the screens.  The diagrams and human words were meaningless, but there certainly were a lot of them. 

“What is it?”

“Thala,” he said, with dread.  “Evidently they’ve followed us after all.  The fleet’s engaged them.  My god, it’s a warzone…”

Twilight’s heart skipped a beat.  “I thought you said they couldn’t follow you?”

“We didn’t think they had.  They must have been delayed, it can happen, unbounded warp travel is an unpredictable thing, the trails we leave are very twisted.”

Riley had a deep frown on his face, but it wasn’t fear this time, she was glad to see.  “We’re all in a lot of trouble,” he said glumly.  “If they’ve found out where you are…”

Twilight swallowed nervously.  She remembered the long, winding tale that they had listened to at that first formal meeting.  Riley didn’t need to finish his sentence.

“What do we do?”

“Carry on,” he said.  “I think the fleet is still trying to enter subspace.  If my predictions are correct then they’ll be ready very soon, if the Thala don’t get them first.  I’m trying to scan the inter-fleet communications to work out what’s going on.  I don’t think there’s a lot of them, so they might be able to fight back.  If they can drive them off then there’s no danger to your planet, they won’t know where they are any more than we do.”

“But damn.”  He swore in his own tongue again and slammed his fist against the arm of his chair angrily.  “As if this wasn’t already difficult enough.”

She was about to try and say something optimistic, but an alarm rang out loudly in the cockpit, startling them both.  Riley swore again and leapt back onto his seat. 

“Tighten your straps,” he barked.  “They’ve spotted us.”

Some computerised voice was speaking to him, but she couldn’t understand a word.  It sounded urgent.  She tried her best to tighten the belts around her chest but without magic it was tricky, most unicorns used their magic almost exclusively for fiddly things, having to resort to hooves was frustrating.  

She barely had time to brace herself before they lurched to one side, the howl of the engines back again.  Something bright flashed by overhead, disappearing off into the distance rapidly, then several more.  Riley threw the ship into another steep curve, diving fast towards the surface of the moon that loomed before them.  

Suddenly there was another vessel outside, much larger and dark black.  Twilight hadn’t seen a lot of human technology, but even to her it was obvious that this was a different type of construction entirely, long and thin with organic looking projections all across it.  It banked hard to try and match them but the nimble command pod could easily out-turn it.

Riley was speaking urgently in his own language, and from a speaker somewhere she could hear another human answering back.  They twisted and turned hard and she fought to stay awake this time.  She was afraid that if she passed out she would never wake again.

“Brace,” Riley yelled, and a split second later her world was in turmoil as something crashed into the vessel from behind.  They were sent tumbling and spinning wildly, the moon disappearing from view almost as soon as it appeared.  Riley managed to get the craft under control again and they skimmed across the surface of the moon, so close she imagined they could touch it.  

The scene outside passed in a blur for the next few minutes while Riley danced with their attackers, trying to make their way toward the human fleet.  When they were finally close enough the other human ships started to take notice and their return fire gave them a brief respite as the Thala ship took its turn to dodge and weave.  

They were decelerating hard and Twilight was straining against the restraints, trying hard not to be sick.  She imagined that would be quite unpleasant without gravity, not to mention the constant twists and turns.

As they got closer she could finally see the other ships, arranged at all angles in the sky.  Several were trailing smoke and fire into the void, and all were firing constant volleys into the darkness as their enemies flitted around.  

Riley was still speaking to the humans on the other end of the radio, and their tone of voice had turned angry while Riley was clearly trying to keep his calm and formal.  They were drifting closer and closer to the bulk of the ship in front of them, and on the back was an illuminated aperture with flashing lights strobing around it.   

With a crash they connected with the larger ship and Riley was out of his seat as soon as it had stopped shaking.  He hastily undid Twilight’s bonds and helped her out of the chair, keeping a firm hold on her as she scrabbled against the floor, unable to move without gravity. 

“It’s too dangerous to stay here,” he explained.  “Our ship isn’t fully inside Alpha One’s shields.  You’re going to have to come with me.”

When the door opened there was a sudden rush of warm, humid air from the ship, smelling strongly of oil and machinery and humans.  Riley pulled her after him, and she found herself floating sideways and unable to correct.  Every time her hooves touched a surface she would scrabble for purchase and only succeed in knocking herself at a new angle.  She found her wings helped a little, more as drag anchors than anything.  She felt very sick and was finally coming to regret insisting on following him up here.

The frigate rocked beneath them and Riley stumbled, losing his grip as well.  She found herself tumbling wildly, very disorientated.  The thunderous sound of the guns echoed through the metal around them.  Finally Riley stabilised himself and caught her, pulling her closer.  They floated through into the cargo hold, a large, open space braced with metalwork and lined with palettes of boxes and crates strapped to all surfaces.  There was a rack of shelves full of weapons and other miscellaneous containers that he seemed to be making for. 

“Hold on,” he told her, pushing her against a support strut.  She clung to it with both forelimbs, wings splayed for balance.  Riley pushed away from her and sailed across the space, twirling in place to land his feet against a crate.  She watched him as he pulled himself deftly across to a storage unit and began rummaging.  

“Here,” he called to her, tossing something at her.  She resisted the urge to catch it in her magic, instead reaching out with a hoof.  They looked like a pair of human boots, but oddly bulky.  “They’re magnetic boots, they’ll help you stay on the ground.  See if you can wear them somehow.”

She tried poking her rear hooves into them, and while they fitted into the ankles the human boots were not really designed for her.  She fumbled with the catches on them, trying to tighten them so they would stay put.  Experimentally she placed them against the metal floor, and with a clang they attached themselves.  Some clever technology understood when she was trying to prise them up again and deactivated the magnets inside.  It felt very strange, particularly as her front hooves didn’t have them, but at least she could stay orientated in the same axis now. 

The cargo bay echoed with the sounds of the battle outside, and also with the loud voice of a human talking to them.







“Open the door or we’ll cut through it,” came William’s furious voice.  Riley tried to ignore him.  “You’re in enough trouble as it is, Collins.  Don’t give them reason to hang you for this.”

He ignored the voice, focusing on his task.  “God-dammit, man, we can do without fighting you too…”

A sudden explosion cut off anything more the admiral was trying to say and the deck beneath him shifted suddenly, throwing him off balance again.  If he was going to be stuck on their planet for the rest of his life then he wanted to at least have a few necessities and he continued his hunt for equipment, shoving medical supplies and clothes into his backpack with renewed urgency.  The crash had sounded very much like another craft locking onto theirs.  

The Thala tactics were well understood after so many years of fighting them.  They would often ram another ship in an effort to damage it and latch onto its hull.  They could form a seal and would then break an ugly tear in the armour, gaining entry that way.  They didn’t have long, if that was the case.  He could only hope they would be able to get away before it happened. 

Fate was not on their side today, though, it would seem.  Another explosion shook the ship as Twilight came clomping over to him, ungainly in the magboots.  They were usually given to passengers that were unfamiliar with spaceflight, to stop them injuring themselves or others.  Most humans didn’t look much better, he knew.  

The lights flickered and dimmed.  An enormous bang came from the sealed cargo bay doors, leading back into the ship.  Riley heard the ominious sound of Thala voices behind it, sharp and clicking.  He was familiar with their language but the muffled sounds prevented him from understanding.  The banging came again and the door warped and shook.  He could hear gunfire from behind.

Riley grabbed a couple of the assault rifles from behind him and thrust one at Twilight.  She looked at it in alarm, backing away slightly.  “Point it at whatever comes through that door, and squeeze the trigger,” he told her.  “We just have to hope there’s not too many of them.  They can’t see well in the dark, so keep to the shadows.”

They tried to get back to the docking port, but before they could take more than a few paces the door was knocked out of its frame with a squeal of twisting metal and the chitinous carapace of the aliens behind came rushing forward.  Riley was in familiar territory again, and squeezed the trigger, falling back on old training. 

There were five of them, and two fell as they rushed towards the pair, their curved heads and glittering fangs gleaming in the flickering lights.  Running on two slender legs they were very fast and closed the gap in little time.  Riley brought down another before they were on top of him.  Twilight had dropped the rifle and had backed away behind him, quite sensibly, he observed.  

He swung the rifle in a wide arc, ducking as a curved blade hissed overhead.  The butt of the rifle caught the drone across the jaw, knocking it to the side with an inhuman squeal of rage.  The second one knocked him to the ground, jaws snapping at his face and neck in the gloom.  He wrestled with it, trying to knock it away from him as they sailed through the air.  Eventually they collided with the ceiling and he kicked out with a leg, pushing them both in another direction.  

The drone had one of its powerful, spindly hands wrapped around his upper arm, and was resolutely refusing to let go, he punched at it again and again, hurting his hand on the hard armoured surface of what passed for a face.  The multiple beady eyes shone brightly and it retaliated, swiping at him and tearing at his legs with its clawed feet.  He saw his chance as a support strut came rushing towards them, behind the Thala’s view.  He timed his thrust and at the last moment grabbed it by the neck and pushed backwards with all his might.

Its head impacted with the hard metal edge, and there was an audible crunch as the carapace crumpled.  The thing howled in pain and anger, thrashing wildly at him and finally releasing its deathgrip on his arm.  He kicked back and was finally able to turn his weapon on it, shooting it between the eyes. 

He turned, panting for breath, just in time to see Twilight unleashing a bolt of white-hot light at the last drone that was creeping towards her, unsure of what she was.  The Thala had never met the inhabitants of this planet before.  All the lights went out, but the creature dodged the crackling ball of energy which went sailing by to impact with a container behind, sending its contents spinning.  The alarm had stopped, the ship’s electronics overloaded by the magical spell.  Fortunately in the near perfect dark the creature was at a severe disadvantage, the insect-like race’s eyes were adapted for the bright sun of their arid home world.

Riley pushed off the wall with his legs, speeding across the open space.  The remains of Twilight’s spell faded away, the last source of light.  Some feeble emergency beacons were flickering to life nearby, and it gave him a little bit of a view.  He daren’t use his rifle in the shifting gloom for fear of hitting Twilight. 

Another burst of light let him fix their position more clearly and he collided with the floor nearby, hooking his fingers around the edge of a floor panel to avoid bouncing off.  The Thala spotted him and hesitated, suddenly presented with two targets, one of which was new.  It was well known that the drones were of limited intelligence, relying on their hive-mind to direct them, and this one was struggling.

Twilight apparently saw her opportunity and kicked out at the creature with her powerful hind legs, the metal boots adding some force to the kick.  The Thala swung around to defend but was a little to slow and it went skittering backwards through the air, trying to find some purchase.  A sharp report of gunfire put an end to its life and Riley looked up to see four marines pulling themselves through the doorway, powerful torches lighting the hold.  

He briefly considered fighting, the adrenaline fuelling his bravado, but his mind could see the inevitable outcome of that.  He thrust the weapon to the side, letting it float out of range.  The marines made their way over to them, grabbing him roughly by the arms and pulling him with them.  Another had a gun pointed at Twilight, and Riley resisted the urge to punch him.   Twilight gave him a helpless look and he whispered to her to just play along for now. 

They were taken back through the frigate, up to one of the briefing rooms where Williams was waiting for them.  As they passed he could see the signs of the battle, dead Thala drones were scattered in the hallways, blood and burn marks splattered liberally around the surfaces.  It looked as though the humans had just managed to repel the boarding attempt.

Williams was floating with his hands folded behind his back, a very stern look on his face.  A couple of the other marines from the squad hovered nearby, stun rifles ready in their hands.  Riley swallowed guiltily, he recognised them personally, and he was sure Williams would have painted him in the light of a traitor. 

“I could have done with your help when we initially ran into the Thala,” he said, looking a little remorseful.  “They were completely unexpected, waiting for us behind the moon.”

“How did they follow us?”

“We don’t know.  Probably were on our tail all along, but you know what warp travel’s like, sometimes we come out weeks apart.”

“Did we lose many?  What’s the situation?”

“We,” and he stressed the word, as if to infer that it didn’t apply to him, “lost one frigate and a cargo hauler, eighty-five men in total.  The threat has been neutralised, although they appear to be building a beacon some way off.”

Riley choked, eyes wide.  “What?  Here?  Have you engaged?”

“Yes, one craft broke formation, we cannot spare the resources to continue, however.”

“If they finish that then this planet is doomed,” he cried, suddenly short of breath.  “They’ll annihilate the place.  There’ll be nothing left.” 

“If they choose to pursue this race, maybe.  They’ve shown limited interest in the other planetbound races, hopefully they’ll do the same here.  It’s not our problem.”

“If they’re putting the resources into a beacon then they mean to colonise,” he spat.  His heart rate had increased dramatically, the new information spelled nearly certain doom for the peaceful pony race.  They wouldn’t stand a chance against the scourge that would flood in soon. 

“You don’t know that.  We’ll inform the council of this, of course, they will no doubt wish to make contact, and if there is a way we can help then a squadron will be posted here, to protect the natives.”

Riley growled angrily.  “Like they’ll be able to spare a single ship.  We have to stop them!”

“I think once they see the treasures we bring back then it’ll be in their interest to post more than just one ship here, Collins,” he said, gesturing to the marine who was holding his pack.  He handed it to the admiral who began hunting through it.

“In all honesty, if I was you, I would have stayed behind,” he said at last.  Riley held his gaze, refusing to back down.  The admiral retrieved the small ornate wooden box, tossing his pack back to the marine.  “You know what awaits you back at home.  I’ll do what I can, but I can’t overlook this.  The best you can hope for is dishonourable discharge and a life behind bars.”

“I don’t want to return home,” he said, following the pack with his eyes.  “Let us go, we’ll be gone in minutes, never to bother you again.”

Williams sighed and turned away, staring out of the virtual window on the wall.  It showed a peaceful view of the stars and the fleet outsides.  “You really have gone native, haven’t you?  You know I can’t do that.  You are a criminal, you have to face justice.  What is unfortunate is that you’ve chosen to condemn one of them, as well.”  He nodded to Twilight, who watched in uncomprehending silence.  Her gaze was fixed firmly on the wooden box. 

“At least let her go, then,” he pleaded.  He wasn’t sure if she would be able to pilot the ship back on her own, but he could probably get some sort of automatic course programmed in that might give her a chance.  More than she’d have if she was forced to return with them to Earth, at any rate.  There was little waiting for her there except a life of study and tests. 

“Negative,” Williams said, turning back to him.  “She is an accomplice.”

“You bastard,” he snarled, stepping forwards angrily.  One of the marines intercepted him and he pushed him roughly out of the way to get to Williams.  There had been a time when the marine wouldn’t have opposed him, but now he was an enemy things were different.  The marine punched him hard in the gut and he doubled over in pain.

The situation seemed dire, and the burst of pain jolted him into action.  With a grunt he swung his fist back up, slugging the marine hard across the jaw and knocking him to the side.  He lunged at Williams but another guard intercepted, punching him hard in return.  He fell to the floor, nose bleeding freely.  This time when he tried to get back up there were two men holding him to the ground, putting severe pressure on his chest and legs.  He struggled uselessly against them.

“That’s just another thing you’re going to regret.  Just stop it, you’re not doing yourself any favours,” the admiral was saying, but Riley was struggling to hear him through the pounding fury in his ears.  His vision seemed clouded, his thinking simple.  They just had to get away, and if that meant fighting past every one of them then that was what he would do. 

“For someone so clever you’ve made a lot of very poor decisions,” the admiral was saying in the background.  Twilight’s voice cut through it like a knife, attracting his full attention immediately. 

“Riley…”  

He looked up, searching for her.  His fevered pulse slowed slightly as he saw her, cowering as two marines held her to the ground.  She looked afraid and defeated, and his stomach knotted uncomfortably.  This was his fault, he knew.  He had set in motion the course of events that had ultimately brought her here and doomed her to her fate. 

“Magic,” he whispered to her in Equestrian.  He braced himself for the shock to his cybernetics, shutting down as much as he was able.  His body had developed a bit of a resistance to the effects after so much time around Twilight, but it was still difficult.  “Cast a spell.  Anything.”

She nodded at him, understanding at once.  With a flash of light her horn was aglow, and in a moment a crackling bolt of electricity shot to the ceiling, crackling along the false plastic walls and following the path of the metallic structures underneath.  The lights went out immediately and the sound of the ship’s mechanics died away soon after with a baleful whine.  The room was lit by the fitful flickering of the discharge, a disorientating flashing like lightning.  

Williams was shouting orders and marines were reaching for their torches.  Riley twisted around, ducking out of his guard’s hold and elbowing him in the stomach.  The man doubled over in the darkness and Riley made a run for it, grabbing his pack on the way.  Twilight had pushed her guards off, helped by the lack of gravity and Riley led her out through the hatchway and into the flickering corridor beyond. 

She hesitated, resisting him.  “We need the box.”

“Leave it, trust me,” he said, pulling her forwards.  Two soldiers were pulling themselves down the corridor toward them, hand over hand along the supports set into the walls for such a purpose.  Riley leapt for them with a feral yell, but Twilight’s magic got there first.  The lights in the corridor went out completely this time. 

They fled through the ship, hurrying back down to the storage hold.  There was little resistance, Riley could hear over the communication network that they had largely given up on them, the priority now was to get the ship’s systems back online, evidently Alpha Three was in final prep for subspace entry and they risked being left behind if they couldn’t link up in the next few minutes. 

Riley worked as they fled, establishing a remote link to the command module and preparing it for launch.  Fortunately it was far enough from Twilight’s initial blasts at the time to avoid much damage to its computers and bringing it back online proved mercifully trouble-free. 

There wasn’t a lot of time to help Twilight strap herself in properly this time and he had to hope she wouldn’t hurt herself.  Outside the battle had mostly come to an end, the Thala had been defeated.  It looked as though their attack force had been small, whether some of them had become lost in hyperspace or if they had only sent a small scouting party was unknown. 

“We made it,” Twilight said a few minutes later as they floated through the blackness of space, out of sight and out of range of the fleet at last.  Riley had relaxed a little, feeling the exhaustion catch up with him at last as the adrenaline drained away.  He turned to see her grinning widely, and she gave a little laugh of joy, bright and childlike.

“Here,” he said, tossing a small bag to her.  It clinked promisingly.  “I hid them in the hold before they caught us.”

She caught the bag, fumbling with the clips to open it.  He smiled as she breathed a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing in her seat.  “I thought we’d lost them for good.  You could have told me, I was worried sick!”

He shrugged, there had been no time. 

“How long until we get back?  With these we can lock Discord away again.  There’s not a moment to lose!”

Riley stared out of the window, frowning deeply. 

Twilight put her element back into the bag, holding them against her chest.  “What’s the matter?”

“We’ve got a bigger problem than Discord,” he sighed.  His fingers flicked over a keyboard and a wireframe model of another Thala ship appeared on the window, projected from below somewhere.  “That is a beacon, the Thala have brought it with them.  When it’s finished it’ll let them find you.  Planets like yours and mine are very rare, and very valuable.  You won’t stand a chance.  They’ll tear your people to pieces, and this will become another homeworld for them.”

He watched her, trying to see if she understood.  She looked back in dismay.  “We have to stop them.”

“What about Discord?” she asked.

“Whatever mischief he makes will be pleasant compared to the storm that’s coming, Twilight.  You really have no idea, trust me on this.  We can worry about Discord later.”

She nodded, accepting his words.  “What can we do?”

“I’ve studied their beacon ships in some detail, it was the subject of my first doctorate, in fact.  They have weaknesses, if I can gain entry, and somehow survive the hordes inside.  There’s a good chance they’ll be running on a minimum tech crew, the fighter drones will have been part of the offensive that my fleet destroyed.  Might stand a chance.”

“I don’t think I can, Riley,” she said weakly.  She looked small and afraid, slumped in the co-pilot’s chair, mane and tail frazzled and floating about her like a halo.  “This has all been too much.  I’m not like you, I can’t keep fighting and running.”

He ran a hand through his hair, it felt sticky and greasy from so long without a proper shower.  “I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this, all of you for that matter.  But if we turn back now you’ll have about half a year before they start to send scouting parties, then they’ll take a few of you to begin with, a city here, a few towns elsewhere.  

“You’ll fight back, of course, but you’ll do nothing to stop them, it’ll be like trying to stop that squid-monster by spitting at it.  There’s so many of them, for every ten you kill another ten thousand wait in the shadows.  After a year they’ll have taken a whole continent, the planet will be surrounded by their warships and carriers, half your population will be dead or missing.  

“In another year there’ll be nothing left, your entire civilisation will be gone, the surface of your world will be covered with Thala, every square mile.”

Twilight shuddered.  

“You don’t need to come,” he said softly.  “And I won’t make you.  If I can get inside then you can return home, I can set the autopilot to guide you back”

She looked hopeful, and more than a little conflicted at the same time.  “How will you get home?”

“I’ll figure something out,” he said with what he hoped was a casual tone. 

She narrowed her eyes at him and sat up.  “You’re not planning on coming back, are you?  You’d be stranded without this space-ship.”

“There’ll be Thala ships, I think.”

“Can you fly those?”  He shook his head.  “Riley, I thought we’d been through this before.”

“Look, what does it matter?  I’ve got no future anyhow, there’s nothing left, everybody I knew is about to leave, forever.  And I’m okay with that, really, I am.  I can do this, I can save your people.”

“I’m not leaving you to die!”

“And I appreciate that.  But there’s very little chance of this working whether you’re with me or not.  It’s better for you to leave.  Your own people need you.”

“Okay,” she said after a long, heavy pause.  He swallowed a lump in his throat and she continued, a deep frown on her pretty face.  “I feel so drained, and so afraid.  I’m like a leaf in a hurricane, blown from place to place with no control.  It’s horrible.”

He nodded, gazing back out through the window thoughtfully, imagining he could see their target.  “Just one last push.  Then we’ll get you home.”

The fleet’s scanners had shown that the beacon was undefended now, alone apart from its formidable armour.  They’d destroyed them before, they were fairly easy to crack open, but that was with an entire fleet of warships and powerful weaponry.  Doing so with one engineer was going to be different. 

“It looks like we might be in luck,” he said, indicating a grainy image on another monitor.  A small glimmer of hope and excitement caught in his chest, the first bit of good news they’d had in a long time.  

The image of the alien ship was hard to make out, but there was a haze around it and something definitely looked wrong.  “There’s the frigate that attacked it.  I think it’s smashed into it somehow.  This might work in my favour, with any luck they’ll be weakened.”

> Chapter 16
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Technically, that could have gone worse,” Riley said, helping Twilight Sparkle to her hooves again.  “But not much worse.”

“What happened?” she asked groggily, rubbing her head and wincing.  She had a nasty cut where she had hit the edge of a console.  He pulled her hoof away and inspected it closely.  It was already starting to clot, so there was no danger there.  He held her head between his hands and peered into her eyes, trying to ascertain if she was concussed or not.  He immediately gave up, their eyes were so big anyhow, he had no idea how to tell.  

“The power unit we salvaged finally gave up.  It was never designed to run propulsion like that.  We came in far too hot.  On the up side, we’re inside the Thala ship, which means we should have an atmosphere.  They’ve got some sort of containment field that prevents their air getting out, even with holes in the hull.”

He looked around, checking the interior again.  “The downside is that you’re trapped here, with me.  I don’t suppose you have any sort of long-range version of that teleport spell, do you?”

She shook her head, he didn’t look particularly hopeful anyhow.  “No, I have no idea how it would work from so far.  Also, our momentum would be preserved.”

“Ah,” he said.  “That would be messy.”

Twilight fidgeted on the spot, trying to find a place to stand amidst the consoles and machinery.  Gravity was back, although it appeared to be at the wrong angle, or their ship was on its side.  It was hard to tell, the heavy blast shields had automatically closed over the window, preventing any view to the outside.  Limp airbags and rolls of netting hung from where they had deployed in the impact.

“Do you feel okay?”

She pulled a face.  “As well as you could expect, considering the situation.  Every time I go anywhere with you I start to wonder what I was thinking at the time.”

He chuckled and patted her shoulder before unbuckling her.  “If it’s any consolation, I’m glad not to be alone.”

“How are we going to get back?” she asked, glancing over the darkened screens and control panels all around.  There were flashing red warning symbols on some of the monitors, the ones that were still working.  It was clear the command vehicle was wrecked.

“We’ll figure something out.  The other fleet ship will have escape pods, we’ll have to hope they’ve left some for us.”

A frightful banging came from the hull of the ship, and they both jumped.  “What’s that?”

“Nothing good, I’m sure,” he said in a hushed voice.  “I’m not sure how susceptible the Thala tech will be to your magic, but don’t hold back with your horn this time.  We’ve got nothing left to damage, and everything to gain.”

He grabbed his pack and rifle from where they’d been flung.  Twilight stuffed the bag with the crystals deep inside and gave him a look which suggested he would severely regret losing them.  The banging continued.  

There was no power to cycle the door at the back, and the spaceframe had been warped badly enough that they were unable to wind the controls manually.  There was nothing to do but sit back and wait for who – or what – ever was outside to break them out.  Until that happened they were firmly trapped. 

The banging eventually stopped and was replaced by the sound of a cutting torch and grinders.  When the door finally gave way it was with a cloud of acrid smoke, and bright torches cut through like searchlights, catching them in the beams.  Twilight was trembling with barely contained energy, and Riley’s finger very nearly pulled the trigger without his head being involved.

“Anyone alive in here?” came a human voice, and three men stepped forward through the smoke and dust.  Riley nearly laughed in relief, and Twilight sagged visibly. 

“Yes, thank god, yes,” he said, standing up and letting his rifle drop to his side.  “Are we glad to see you.”

They followed the three men outside, emerging into a scene of impressive destruction.  They had entered through a large gap between the Thala ship’s hull and the wreck of Alpha Ten and had continued to crash through several more bulkheads and interior structures before they came to rest.  The front of their command pod was in tatters, the shields and spaceframe crushed inwards and utterly destroyed.  Long scratches ran the full length and many internal parts were exposed.  A few small fires still smouldered.  The Thala atmosphere tended to have a lower ratio of oxygen than humans were used to, so fires were less of a problem, however it left everyone short of breath. 

Riley indicated for Twilight to keep close, and she trotted next to him, practically touching.  The group picked their way back through the wreckage, coming to meet the rest of the human survivors.  An older man stood and met them, extending his hand with thick, calloused fingers.  Riley shook it, and the grip was firm, but not through any intention to show off or show dominance, he was just a very large man.

“I’m Captain Falkirk.  It’s good to see you alive, Collins.  A lot of men were pissed when they left you behind.”

“Not the only ones who were upset,” he grumbled in return, then remembered his manners and saluted.  

The older captain waved him away.  “At ease.   Understand you’re civilian now, no need to salute this old dog anymore.”

Riley snorted disdainfully through his nose.  “I’m barely human if you believe the admiral.”

Falkirk laughed bitterly.  “He sees the natives as an inconvenience, I believe.  Orders is orders, anything that stands in the way is just a distraction.  He’s a good man at heart, and you can’t argue his methods get shit done, but I reckon he’s made a mistake, allowing this beacon to remain under bug control.  Should’ve made more effort to capture it.  Valuable prize.”

“Or destroy it.  Its presence here threatens the planet.”

“Maybe.  It’s looking like that’s our only course of action now.  We can’t hold this position much longer.  We cleared this section of the ship and sealed ourselves in real tight, and now there’s nowt to do but wait.  Lost comms with the fleet, counting on that they’d send rescue, but time is running out.”

“They’re not,” he said bluntly.  “They’re prepping for the jump.”

Falkirk took it well, a bare flicker of anger across his face.  He was an old soldier, he had been at the job for most of his life, he was no stranger to the sacrifices commanders had to make sometimes. 

“Then it looks like we’re on our own,” he said, his voice low and measured.  

Riley nodded.  “Are your escape pods functional?”

“Barely,” he replied with a shake of his head.  “We haven’t had the time to strip ‘em down, but things don’t look good.  We came in pretty damn hard, most systems are out.  This old tub sure ain’t moving from here again.  She’s found her grave, at last, may she rest in peace. ”

Riley swore to himself, it was looking as though they were going to be trapped here.  Twilight didn’t need to know for the meantime, though.  “What’s the situation?”

“Grim.  Seventeen of us left able.  Plenty of weapons, but got no men to hold ‘em.  We’ve set up defence turrets at choke points, so far they’re holding the beetles off.  Theory is we took out the command cells when we crashed.  Figure they’re largely running on instinct now.”

“That’s a good place to be,” he said, nodding and licking his lips.  “We can work with that.  Can you spare some men to attempt a run on the inner cells?  This is an older design of ship, there’s a weakness in their central reactor that’ll let us blow their warp core, disable their beacon and prevent them from leaving.  We can neutralise this threat.”

“You can do it?”

“Absolutely, but we have to get there first.”

Falkirk looked around uncertainly, his men were scattered around, alert but tired.  Riley could see a few injured soldiers nearby, lying on bedrolls with a couple being tended by their remaining medics.  Off in the gloomy distance of the organic innards of the ship he could see several body bags, gleaming white.  

“Honestly, I don’t think you’d make it,” he said.  “Way too far, way too many squibs.”

“I know these ships, captain, it’s a ten minute run from here to the core.  Treble that for the skirmishes we’re bound to have and it’s not unfeasible.  It’s the only chance we have.”

“Or we could see how far we get in the escape pods.  Strip ‘em down, get them functional.  We were waiting here for rescue, but sounds like that’s not coming after all.”  He pointed a thick finger at Twilight who narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.  Riley put a calming hand on her neck, scratching her gently with his fingertips.  She relaxed a little under his touch and Falkirk continued, “now we know we’re on our own it looks a lot better to be marooned on their planet than up here.”

“We leave this beacon here and in a year the place will be swarming with Thala.  There’s nowhere to hide.  We have to do this first.”

Falkirk looked defeated, Riley knew he didn’t need that explaining to him.  The man had seen a lot of battle, he knew what was coming if they just left.  

Riley continued, trying to sound as convincing as possible.  He was never comfortable with trying to persuade his superiors.  “With respect, sir, the only way is to shut this place down before they can get the warp beacon online.  Take out their drive and warp core, and they’re rendered harmless.  They can’t fix that.  They’ll just starve up here, eventually.  

“Once this place is safe, then we can worry about the escape pods, we’ll fix as many of them as possible and get down to the surface.  Take the engineers first, there’s the remains of the downed frigates on the surface, we can try and get one of them working again for shuttle duty to collect any stragglers.  We can work something out.”

Falkirk mulled it over.  Riley was aware how flaky the plan sounded.  There were a lot of things that could, and undoubtedly would, go wrong, but it was the best he could come up with.  The only really crucial goal was to disable the beacon, anything after that was a benefit.  Discord or not, at least life would continue in Equestria.

“Alright.  I don’t like it,” he said at last.  “Not one bit.  But I see your thinking.  We can’t condemn their entire race to the Thala, not when we got the power to stop it, and not if any of us ever want to face judgement with a clean conscience.”

Riley saluted him again and the captain gave him a firm nod before turning to shout orders.  

“What’s happening?” Twilight asked him, not understanding any of the conversation.  He knelt down, keeping close to her, and took the elements out of his pack, entrusting them back to her care again. 

“We’re going to shut this place down.  The Thala are weak and disorientated, so we might have a chance.  There’s some escape pods we can take back to the surface, afterwards.”

“I wish we were home,” she said quietly, leaning against him.  “I don’t feel well.”

He put his arms around her and squeezed her gently.  She leaned her head against the side of his, eyes closed and pressing herself back into his embrace.

He tried his hardest to sound reassuring.  “It’s going to be okay, you know.”

She opened her large eyes on him.  Inches away from his face they seemed to fill his entire vision, and her gentle breath was warm on his face.  “I’m very afraid, Riley, so far from home.  Is this what you feel like all the time?  So far away from your friends?”

“I’ve been close to a friend this whole time,” he said with a silly smile, and she returned it, despite the sadness in her eyes.  “We’ll get you back home, Twilight, I promise you.  They’ll be leaving a team here to defend this area.  You stay here with them, they’ll keep you safe.”

“Promise you’ll come back?”

“I swear it.”

“Pinkie Promise?”

“Uh,” he said intelligently.  

She laughed and nudged his head with hers.  “An ordinary promise will do.  Go on, and good luck.”

He stood, a little reluctantly, then made his way over to where the captain was gathering his men around him.  He introduced him to the ten, and Riley committed their names to memory.  The computer in his head certainly had its uses, as he had discovered at parties shortly after settling in with it, winning any card game he chose to.  Moments like that had almost made the constant headaches bearable at the time.  

“Commander Warshofsky will be leading the mission,” Falkirk announced, handing him a biscuit bar.  He tore into it hungrily, it had been a while since he’d eaten anything.  “Got two decades’ experience fighting the bugs at close quarters, if any man can get you in there, it’s this one.  Godspeed, to you all.”

“Can you maintain your defence with only seven men, captain?”

“Aye, there’s some more turrets to set up yet.  Keep in contact, we’ll disable them when you’re on your way back.”

Riley took him aside by the arm.  “Can I ask a favour?  If things turn bad, get her in one of the escape pods.  She stands a better chance that way.  She shouldn’t be here at all, I was a fool to let her come.  Don’t let her come after me, no matter what.  If they take her… well, you know as well as I do what happens next.”

Falkirk glanced over at Twilight, who was watching them forlornly from where she lay on the floor in a dark corner, clutching the small bag to her chest.  He nodded once, solemn and slow.  “Will do.”

With a last wave to the unicorn Riley followed the other men out down one of the twisting corridors that served as the interconnects between cells in the ship.  The Thala built their craft in a very different way to the humans, in fact ‘built’ was entirely the wrong word for it.  ‘Grow’ would be a more accurate description, everything was extruded from a strange metallic alloy that had resisted most human efforts to replicate. 

The layout was unconventional, rooms were rarely square, tending towards the spherical or hexagonal.  The connections between them were like the branches of a tree, small tunnels joining together into larger and larger channels that would delve deep into the centre of the craft.  At the very centre of it was the core, where the power source and complex machinery of the ship resided.  It was also where the gravity generator sat, and that meant they simply had to keep working ‘down’ until they got to their goal.  

The material of the wall and floors usually emitted a bright cyan light, but in this section of the ship the humans had managed to disable most of the conduits that powered it, usually by cutting into the walls in strategic locations to break the vein-like tubes that criss-crossed everything, ugly stains running down the walls and pooling in the depressions on the uneven floor.  Without power the tunnels were dark and inhospitable to the light-loving Thala, and many of their bodies lay about, bullet-ridden corpses testament to the firepower the humans brought with them.  Their own projectile weapons were generally quite ineffective, they tended to rely on sheer numbers and physical prowess to win their battles. 

Riley catalogued the corpses as best he could, the Thala beacon-ships were staffed by a carefully regulated selection of castes that was tailored to the design of the ship, and so far the proportion of drones, warriors and other breeds seemed consistent, leading him to believe that the ship was indeed as old as it looked, and therefore vulnerable to the attack he had in mind. 

“Fuckin’ bugs,” one of the soldiers was muttering, kicking at a corpse with his booted foot.  “Don’t look so tough from up here.”

“Can it, Lear,” the commander snapped.  Up ahead the bright blue light was intensifying.  “We’re close.  Keep your wits about you.”

Up ahead they came to a barricade where the tunnel had been purposefully collapsed with shaped charges.  Two gun turrets were bolted to the metallic floor nearby, scanning back and forth with a rhythmic whirring sound.  An uncountable number of Thala corpses were sprawled over the barricade, dripping their sickly brown fluids over one another.  Evidently they had abandoned trying to attack.  Riley began to give some credence to the captain’s theory that their hive intelligence had been damaged, ordinarily they would have stopped throwing themselves on the guns after only half that number.  The Thala were blessedly predictable.

They clambered over the barricade, and Riley grimaced at the slime they had to crawl across.  The going was slippery, and the bright azure light beyond hurt his eyes after so long in the dark.  It didn’t last long, however, one of the troopers was busy destroying a junction with the butt of his rifle, and the glow was already fading along the corridor.  

The sound and commotion inevitably attracted attention, however, and the howl of several drones came echoing up the corridor.  Leading them was a warrior, far bigger, and far meaner.  The marines were calm and organised and the ones in front immediately dropped to their knees and began firing, allowing those behind to clear shots over their head.  Riley and another turned their backs, keeping a watch on their rear.  A couple of drones came their way, but they were easy to take out.  The main tunnel led the other way. 

They moved efficiently as a group, four moving ahead at a time while the others covered them, then leapfrogging their team-mates until the cycle repeated.  There were always more men ready with weapons than those moving.  Riley directed the commander with hand signals, relying on his photographic memory of the layout.  He had spent so many miserable months as a student studying the ships that he would never forget them as long as still breathed.

As they approached the core more and more enemies appeared, fighting more desperately.  There was still some leadership caste around, he knew, somewhere something was making decisions still, although it was a far cry from their usual organised nature.

Their only incident came when a group of warrior caste broke through a wall from an adjacent corridor while they were engaged in a close battle with a large horde of mindless drones.  There were seven of the formidable beasts, and they had killed one man before the squad even had time to react.  They were too close for effective rifle fire but with the onslaught from the vicious drones they had been unable to mount a proper melee defence and another two men had fallen.  They were dragged screaming down the corridor.  Warshofsky had managed to shoot one between the eyes, but the other’s distraught wailing had been heard distantly for a long time after. 

Riley limped along, one of them had taken a gouge out of his leg and it was starting to hurt, despite the hasty bandage their remaining medic had been able to apply.

“We’re close,” he hissed, taking them down another wide tunnel.  The way was steep now, and they had to slither and climb more than run.  Fortunately the walls of the corridor were rough and ridged like the inside of some monstrous ribcage, forming steps with ample holds.  They were designed for the Thala’s clawed feet, but the human boots provided plenty of purchase as well.  Fighting on them was another matter entirely, though, and they lost another soldier before they got to the relatively open space at the centre of the craft. 

Thick supports wound their way from one side of the roughly spherical space to the other, organic looking nodules providing places for machinery to attach and for workers to sit.  There were few fighter castes left here, fortunately, and they had a relatively easy time of working their way to one of the platforms in the centre.  Riley worked while two of the soldiers kept the worker drones off his back, kicking and batting the smaller insects away.

Riley’s fingers prised parts of the machinery apart.  It was tougher than it looked, he had only ever laid his hands on one before, and that was in the comfort of an Earth-side laboratory where he had a collection of the correct tools and many assistants.  At the time there hadn’t been the ever-present fear of impending death, either.  With the sound of battle filling the air around him he beat at the panels with the butt of his rifle, desperately delving deeper.

He pulled out a delicate, crystalline structure and smashed it repeatedly against a support beam, shattering it into small pieces that rattled on the chitinous floor underneath.  “There,” he announced, standing up and further crushing it under his heel.  They ground down with a satisfying crunch.  “They won’t be able to replace that, and it’s rendered their beacon useless.”

He let out a deep breath, it was a relief, whatever happened next Equestria was safe from the Thala.  Unless they had snuck a second beacon ship in somewhere else then there was no chance of them ever returning.  

“Incoming,” said Warshofsky urgently, beckoning them to return back up to the top.  The worker drones were buzzing around in a frenzy, alarmed.  Riley began the climb back up, the other two behind him.  “Hurry.”

There was a groan from the far side of the cell and the support he was on shuddered and shook.  He risked a glance back, wishing he hadn’t.  An enormous creature was reaching up, a taloned claw the size of his body swiping towards them.  The other two marines didn’t stand a chance, but at least got off a few shots before they were torn away with strangled cries.  Riley leapt at the last moment, and the tip of a finger caught his foot, pulling him sharply to one side. 

He barely managed to hold on, swinging by one arm.  One of the soldiers above was reaching for him, offering a hand.  He grabbed it gratefully and was pulled up and out of the way of another swipe.  The huge monster was large and the winding support structures got in its way, hindering its advancement.  It was smashing through them regardless, sending fragments of the strange metal flying through the fetid air like darts.  

“Retreat,” Warshofsky was bellowing above the noise.  Drones were flooding in from one of the side tunnels, heading straight for them.  Their leader, the fearsome bug that was scrabbling toward them, seemed to care little for them and batted a few out of its way in its effort to catch them.  

Riley reached the main tunnel and scrambled frantically up the inclined surface, following the boots of the man in front.  With a scream the boots were suddenly gone as their owner was swept off his feet by a Thala warrior.  Riley raised his weapon and fired into the creature’s midsection, breaking its spine in a spray of brown.  It dropped the marine as it fell and both went slithering back down into the hole below, into the waiting jaws of the leader. 

“RPG,” yelled another marine, hefting a cylindrical device over his shoulder.   Riley ducked, hands over his head as the projectile whistled past with a deafening hiss.  Almost immediately there came an explosion that knocked the wind out of him and left his ears ringing.  The hot shockwave spread up the tunnel, knocking detritus loose.  

“It’s still coming,” someone yelled, and Riley forced his trembling arms and legs back into motion, dragging himself up the incline faster than he thought was possible.  As it levelled out he ducked into a side tunnel, pulling the nearest marine with him, albeit with some difficulty as the guy was built like a wrestling champion.  The tunnel was too small for the giant creature to follow, and he watched anxiously as it lumbered past, injured yet still doggedly following the others.  He hoped they had the sense to do the same and find smaller spaces.

The huge man’s name was Andrews, he recalled, a solidly built young marine, his fresh face and lack of scars marking him as a relative newcomer to the game.  He wondered if this was the man’s first real battle.  If so then it was quite an introduction to the service, a new alien race and a battle against immense odds to destroy a major node in the enemy’s network.  

“Follow me,” he told the marine breathlessly, and led them back out into the main corridor, darting to the other side.  A warrior lunged at them but the marine’s quick reflexes saved their skin.  It fell, cut cleanly in two around its spindly midsection, a testament to Andrews’ brutish strength.  Its bladed limbs thrashed for a few seconds before lying still.  

“Up here.”  He scrambled up into another tunnel, halfway up the wall.  If he had kept his bearings correctly then it should lead them the correct way, just by a more circuitous route that would avoid the larger tunnels.  He leant down to help his companion up with a strained grunt, just in time as a swarm of the smaller drones rushed by underneath, apparently uninterested in pursuit and trying only to keep up with their leader.  

The tunnel twisted and turned, but kept making its way upwards, so he was sure he was on the right path.  The bright light all around faded suddenly and they were in near darkness, only the numerous small spots on the conduits and cabling just beneath the surface visible, twinkling like a colourful starry sky.  A low, shuddering groan could be felt through the floor beneath them.  

“The hell was that?” Andrews hissed, flicking his torch on and shining it in Riley’s eyes.  He looked away in annoyance and the man dropped it apologetically, swinging it around.  They were in a small bulge in the tunnel, a slightly wider area that looked as though it was being used for storage.  Many pods were glued to the walls, some with alien symbols etched into the surface, some empty and some radiating a soft inner light.  Slowly the walls resumed glowing again, although it was dimmer than before. 

“Power surge,” he said, swallowing nervously.  “The rocket must have damaged their power reactor, or that great lumbering beast knocked something loose.”

Andrews swore, spinning around wildly suddenly at the sound of skittering feet.  A worker drone popped out of a tunnel and screeched at them before scuttling off.  “How long’ve we got?”

“No idea,” he admitted, running his hand through his hair again in frustration.  “Seconds, minutes, hours, we’ll know more when the next surge comes, they’re not too frequent yet, which is a good sign.”

As soon as the words left his lips there came another shuddering groan and the darkness returned.  He swore again.  “Less than thirty minutes.  Run!”

He slung the rifle over his shoulder and began scrambling on all fours, moving as fast as he could.  At one point they could see a drone in front, but the creature ignored them, running fast through the tunnels ahead.  The ship was aware, he knew, it shared a distributed intelligence of sorts, and it would be panicking now that its own power supply was failing.  The drones would likely ignore them for now.

Riley led them out into one of the larger corridors, eschewing safety for speed.  If they had to get the escape pods working then it was crucial he had as much time to work as possible.

The gamble paid off and they made excellent time, their journey almost entirely unhindered.  When they got back to the barricade he was horrified to find it smashed, and the turrets beyond were silent and inactive, bent and smashed.  

“Twilight,” he breathed, starting to panic, if anything had happened to her he would never forgive himself.  He yelled back at the marine to hurry and leapt over the barricade with a newfound burst of energy.

They careened around a corner to a scene of devastation, the remaining seven men had been slaughtered, there was blood everywhere, and it was difficult to know just how many corpses there were from the remaining pieces.  He shone his torch around wildly, eyes wide and heart pounding like a jackhammer.  He had told her they couldn’t see well in the dark, so she would have hidden there, but all the gloomy recesses he could find were empty.  He screamed her name, but there was no answer.  

> Chapter 17
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Over here,” came a weak voice in English, and Riley homed in on the sound, spotting the twitch of movement underneath a fallen section of wall.  Between them he and Andrews shifted the heavy piece to find Captain Falkirk underneath, battered and bloody.  His right arm was completely mangled, and he was bleeding badly. 

“Jesus,” Andrews said, kneeling and looking to inspect the wound.  Falkirk groaned in pain and weakly batted the man away as he poked at it.

“They rushed us,” he managed between breaths, blinking rapidly and staring straight up.  “Hundreds of the buggers, came barrelling through.  Couldn’t do a goddamned thing.”

He winced again, squeezing his eyes closed.  Riley rummaged in his pack, looking for anything that might help, but his meagre first-aid training and supplies could do nothing for the man.  

“Where’re the others, sir?” he asked, leaning over him to try and hold his wavering gaze whilst trying hard to control his own voice.  “Where’s Twilight?”

“Alive, but gone – taken,” he gasped.  “’M sorry.  My men, the same.  Heard a few pods launch.  Maybe a few made it.”

Riley punched his fist against the floor and tried to withhold the urge to howl in frustration.  It sounded as though they had got the emergency vehicles back online, if only she had still been here they could have left.    

“I’m done for, lads,” Falkirk wheezed, squeezing his eyes shut.  “Get out of here, go after her.  There’s still time.”

Another trembling groan rocked the floor and something fell down behind them, peppering them with shards of metal.  The blue glow from the corridors vanished leaving only the white lights of the human camp.  The thought of Twilight alone, in the claws of the Thala, made him sick and he gave the captain a grim smile. 

“It’s been an honour to have met you, sir,” he said, saluting as he stood.  The captain closed his eyes for the last time.  “Come on, we have to go rescue her,” he said, turning to the marine.

“Fuck that,” Andrews spat.  “Captain’s dead, I’m getting out of here while I can.  You should do the same, mate.”

Riley resisted the urge to leap on him, he was only looking out for himself after all, he had no promise to keep.  He grabbed his rifle and bit back his reply.  “Fine.  Good luck.”

Andrews nodded awkwardly, and Riley suspected he had expected more resistance.  The soldier took one last baleful look at his fallen captain then sprinted off in the direction of the wreckage of Alpha Ten, in search of any emergency pods that would still carry him. 

Riley searched the designs of the ship stored in his head, working out where they would have taken Twilight.  They still had at least one leader left, it would have instructed them to either fix the ship, if it was possible, or to evacuate.  He only hoped that if they were to evacuate they didn’t consider her deadweight and dispose of her.  There was a good chance they would have intended to take her for study, and with the inevitable breakdown in the communication with any luck that order would remain current forever. 

His run through the twisting tunnels was a blur, his fear of the Thala had been completely replaced with his fear of what they might be doing to his friend at that very moment.  He acted on instinct and a keen single-minded focus that almost allowed him to anticipate what was coming before it took place.  He fired his rifle with pinpoint accuracy, clearing a path through the hordes and nimbly dodging badly aimed plasma bolts and whirling machete-like limbs, despite the ache in his leg. 

The general direction of traffic seemed to be outwards, suggesting they were indeed attempting to evacuate, and he updated his plan on the run, heading off at a tangent on the gamble that she would still be in a storage cell awaiting transport.  If the leader had identified her as a member of the new species then it would be keen to keep her safe and alive until they could return to the main hives.  She would form the basis of their offensive strategy for when they were able to return. 

The thought of her under experiment, tortured in horrific ways, spurred him on with an urgency that felt like he was being chased with a cattleprod, a tingling sensation rippling through his entire body from the electrodes in his spine.  Even being pursued by the imps in the forest hadn’t felt so desperate.

The ship was quickly disintegrating, he knew.  The shockwaves were rocking the craft every minute now, barely dying away before the next shudder brought bits of the tunnel down around him.  He stumbled frequently, struggling hard to keep his footing on the uneven surface.  The corridors were getting uncomfortably hot, the oxygen levels dropping even further as the mysterious devices that kept the air sealed in the imperfect hull gradually lost their grip.  The pressure was dropping and he gasped for much needed breath.  

He called her name over and over as he drew closer to his first target.  There was no response, only a couple of disorientated drones dropping down from a hole above him.  He smacked them to one side, breaking one in mid air and catching the second with a whirling kick from a heavy boot.

The storage cell was empty of ponies, just storage pods and bulbous urns arranged in hexagonal patterns across the walls, like some frightful, huge bees nest.  He ran on, trying for the next most likely place, and then the next.  With each empty room the panic in his chest grew and grew into a physical thing, tangible and hard, crushing against his heart and lungs and making every breath agony.  In one he found a dead man, one of Falkirk’s unit, dragged away for food or hosts, but then suddenly abandoned. 

Hope was running dangerously thin by the time he finally stumbled upon Twilight, trapped in a cage of some latticework secretion.  He was in one of the larger chambers, and many Thala were milling around with some urgency, including some warrior caste.  There was a general movement of goods, workers were picking up pods in their crab-like claws and scuttling away with them, ignoring him almost completely.  Riley was reminded of ants carrying eggs when part of their nest was opened. 

The scene around him rocked and shook violently, accompanied by the distraught squeals and clicks of the alien race.  The space was plunged into darkness and he slipped from the opening he was crouched in, landing hard on his injured leg.  He stifled a cry and tried to crawl backwards, feeling horribly exposed in their midst.  He switched into infrared vision, trying to make things out amongst the grainy false colour images.  Everything was warm and the colours all merged together, but Twilight was hottest of them all, a glowing white fire in the middle of the blues and greens all around.  

A drawn out, splintering crack caused him to look up just in time as a large piece of the ceiling caved in, the mass of broken metal and gushing fluids raining down painfully hard upon him.  With a cry he leapt back, barely avoiding being crushed to a pulp.  The floor beneath him flexed and cracked, threatening to give way to the cells further underneath. 

In places the walls were starting to glow again, a sickly dark blue that made it hard to focus on anything.  He gingerly climbed over the pile of debris in front of him, praying to any god that was listening that Twilight was not underneath.  To his intense relief he could see her cage mostly intact, there was a large piece of scrap on top, but it hadn’t broken through completely, merely broken the latticework slightly.

Another crash signalled imminent collapse and he realised the storage cell was folding in on itself.  He leapt over the rubble, dodging falling pieces and skidded to a stop in front of her.  The lights dimmed again, fading away to nothing, and he switched back into thermal mode.  At least if it was dark they wouldn’t be able to see him, not that it mattered much, most of the Thala were scattering, fleeing the crumbling cell with all the things they could grab. 

“Twilight,” he hissed urgently, pulling at the lattice cage.  It was crumbling apart, its integrity compromised by the weight on top.  Twilight was not responding, and he reached through the gaps to feel her, anxiously searching for a pulse or some sign of life.  He could feel her breath on the back of his hand and released a deep sigh, the relief draining through his veins.  He kicked angrily at the remaining lattice with his boot, finally breaking a big enough piece away that he was able to reach inside and pull at her.  

She was limp and had some new cuts and scratches but as far as he could tell she was unhurt.  Either they had drugged her with something or she had simply passed out from terror and exhaustion.  He cradled her in his lap, begging her to wake up and stroking her fur desperately as the sickly blue light slowly returned.

He nearly cried in elation as she stirred, fidgeting and mumbling something hazily.  He spoke her name over and over, hugging her to him.  “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“Ugh,” she moaned, cracking her eyelids open.  He released her slightly, letting her breathe.  Her eyes opened further and her pupils contracted.  She convulsed in his arms, scrabbling and trying to look around frantically.  

“It’s okay,” he soothed, holding her tighter to calm her.  Her eyes finally met his and she calmed immediately, sagging against him again.  “Can you stand?  We have to get out…”   

A powerful tremor raced through the ground, knocking them both to the side in a tangle of limbs.  Twilight squeaked in terror and Riley looked up to see the ceiling rushing down towards them, huge pieces of the superstructure bearing down with lethal intent.  Time seemed to slow to a crawl and the past week replayed before his mind’s eye, all the choices and accidents that had led up to this final moment passing in a millisecond. 

The end never came, however, and he found the subtle blue light tempered by the purple haze of Twilight’s magic.  He grinned at her stupidly, blood hammering in his ears.  Pieces of alien ship bounced off the shimmering shield she had projected around them and his head buzzed with the sensation, like someone had struck a battery against his brain.

“This is hard to maintain,” Twilight said from between clenched teeth.  “Which way?”

He pointed, and the debris above them shifted as she moved it out of the way, a little bubble of safety in the middle of the destruction of the Thala ship.  Once they reached the edge he pulled her into a smaller tunnel, leaving the immediate danger behind as more pieces crumbled and cracked. 

“We haven’t got much time,” he told her breathlessly as they hobbled along, Riley half dragging the groggy unicorn behind him.  They were going much too slowly.  “The ship’s disintegrating.”

Turn after turn they took, and at one point they were forced to double back on themselves when a tunnel collapsed almost in front of them, missing their heads by centimetres.  

“I can’t do it, Riley,” Twilight panted at last, sagging to her knees against the ribbed arches of a larger corridor.

“Don’t give up!  We’re so close,” he urged, falling beside her.  His leg ached badly but he ignored it, pushing the discomfort to the back of his mind.  He scooped his arms under her, trying to pick her up, but he was too weak himself and they fell together as the ship rumbled in distress.

“Riley,” she said desperately, pushing herself up on her forelegs so she could face him.  “I… I didn’t come with you because I didn’t trust you, not truly, I just wanted to be by your side.  I want to be with you.”

He hugged her tightly to him, biting back the tears.  “You’re a fool, Twilight,” he said.  “Come on, get up.  We’re not dying here.  We’ve come too far, and we’re so close now.”

She stumbled upright, only for another violent quake to send her to her knees again only a few paces on.  Riley tried to support her weight but the lack of oxygen in his blood was starting to take its toll and he barely managed to hold onto her as they slumped down together again.  He cradled her head in his lap and she looked up at him with sad, glittering eyes. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Riley,” she murmured, a weak smile on her lips.  “I was afraid I was going to die alone.”

Tears pricked at his eyes once more and he tried to smile for her, tried to find some reassuring words, but there was nothing left, no hope, no light, just despair and regret.  The end was coming, so close now, mere moments away, yet he realised that he was no longer afraid of death, only of having failed her.  “I’m sorry, Twilight, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Hush,” she said, reaching a hoof up to caress the side of his head with a soft smile.  “I forgive you everything.  I …”  

“Come on, mate,” said a familiar voice from the dusty gloom, and a strong set of arms was suddenly lifting him up, putting him back on his feet.  He leaned against the wall for support, confused and bewildered.  In a daze he watched the marine, Andrews, pick Twilight up like she was made of paper.  She slumped in his arms like a giant cat and watched the mountain of a man begin lumbering off up the corridor, Twilight’s brightly coloured tail swinging to one side.  Riley rushed to follow.

“Thankyou,” he managed as he drew close.  Andrews grunted and soldiered on.  Riley could hear his laboured breathing, the huge man was struggling as well.  They hadn’t long left, the ship was shaking continuously by now and the lights had gone out completely.  Only the torch on Andrews’ shoulder illuminated the way, piercing the acrid, smoky air with its pencil-thin beam.  Small things scuttled by in the darkness, brushing against their legs, alien vermin trying to run from the sinking ship.

Riley skipped ahead, rifle at the ready, although he wasn’t sure he really had the strength to use it.  He kept turning back anxiously, checking that Andrews and Twilight were still with him and never straying more than a couple of metres ahead.  In the darkness and the haze he could see occasional larger shapes scuttling about, Thala trying to get out before the structure completely gave way.  

Over the barricade they climbed, Andrews stumbling with Twilight’s weight adding to his own.  Riley panted hard, dropping his rifle and moving to catch her.  She slipped out of his feeble grasp, finally standing unsteadily on her own hooves.  In front of them the welcome lights of the human camp were shining warmly and it gave them all cause to feel a tenuous sliver of hope once again.  They stumbled toward it like the undead, heading for the wreck of the Alpha Ten in the hopes of any sanctuary.

“In here,” Riley said, helping her up into the hatchway.

Twilight called out in warning and something smashed into him from behind with an alien screech, knocking him forwards.  He landed hard on the top of his spine, rolling head over heels as a Thala warrior bared its fangs and hissed, a myriad beady eyes glittering red in the harsh arclights.  Andrews barrelled into it like a tank before it had chance to leap, however, the huge man’s bulk knocking it sideways with a crunch of chitin. 

It howled in anger and turned its attentions to the marine, slashing and biting as Andrews punched and kicked and wrestled with it.  

“Run,” he yelled at them, his word cut off with a strangled sound as the creature impaled him on one of its razor sharp claws, the tip of it protruding from his side.  Riley watched in horror as Andrews kicked it away with a howl, sending it several paces backwards, the limb in his chest snapping off with a sickening crunch.  He leapt back to his feet and charged at the creature, leaping onto it with a primal howl, heedless of the jagged blade sticking through his gut. 

Riley tried to climb back off the floor, but Twilight was already ahead of him and he found himself enveloped in the warmth of her magic once more as she lifted him up after her.  He staggered through the bowels of the stricken frigate, heading for the emergency bay, Twilight following half a step behind.  He was dimly aware that there might be other Thala around, but there wasn’t the time or the energy to worry about it anymore.  Whatever happened next was down to luck alone, he knew. 

The ejection capsules were in bad shape, he could see.  The doors to many of them were broken and warped where the spaceframe of the mighty ship had deformed, crushing much of the machinery in the process.  At least four had been launched, although how successfully he couldn’t know.

None of the remaining pods would fire, not without an engineer’s overrides, there were too many safety locks damaged.  That was the reason Andrews had returned, he realised.  The man was unable to operate them.  There was enough residual power to run the diagnostics and he tried to focus as the words and symbols scrolled before him on the monitors.  

“We’re good,” he announced, finding just one that reported its status as green once the interlocks were overridden.  Its door was accessible and the port outside was clear, apart from a few bits of debris.  The guidance systems claimed to be online, and it had air.  He pulled Twilight after him, barely able to focus.  The door to the pod slid up with a hiss of compressed air and to his great relief he could see that the small capsule was still aligned in its tracks.  He smacked his palm against the release stud and the lid hinged upwards, revealing the simple padded interior. 

“Come on,” he said to Twilight, wheezing.  She was swaying on her hooves, her breathing fast and laboured.  With some amount of effort he managed to get her in, pushing her legs down into the footwell and wrapping the straps tightly around her midsection.  She watched him dreamily and he smiled tenderly down at her, pausing a moment to reflect.  He placed the precious bag of crystals on her chest and made to close the lid. 

“Riley,” she said, stopping him.  “What’re you doing…?”

“It won’t support two,” he told her.  She reached out to him and he took her hoof in both hands, squeezing it tightly.  It was strange, he realised hazily, but he felt oddly calm.  Maybe it was just the onset of the drunken euphoria that came with asphyxiation, he couldn’t tell, but so many times in the past few days had he found himself walking a narrow ledge over the abyss that faced with the certainty of The End he realised he wasn’t afraid.  Things felt right.  He had undone his mistake, made the world right again.  “It’s alright, Twilight.  I’m ready for this.”

“I’m not,” she murmured, blinking hard to try and keep her focus on him, barely conscious.  She swayed in his vision and he held let go of her hoof and grabbed onto the edge of the pod, falling to his knees again.  

“I promised to get you home, and I will,” he continued, drawling his words terribly.  “You have to save your own people now, I’ve done all I can.  It’s been a pleasure, Twilight Sparkle.  I’m proud to call you my friend.”

She strained against the straps, trying to reach him, and his heart ached more now than ever before.  “Don’t do this to me,” she said desperately, wriggling fiercely.  “I can’t go without you.  I need you, Riley, more than anything.  I love you.”

He blinked away the hazy tears in his eyes, leaning over her and smiling.  Despite the calamity and destruction all around he suddenly found his moment of calm, all his worries and fears melted away in one idyllic moment, Twilight’s beautiful, deep purple eyes filled his world.  He leant down and kissed her quickly, a brief touch of his lips to hers, then stood up and slammed the lid of the capsule closed.  He could still hear her muffled shouts from inside.

Like a robot he closed the door and thumbed the release button.  With a bang and a flash of light the little pod was gone, propelled out like a champagne cork.  The tiny window in the door showed an empty tube and beyond that a small circular view into the vastness of the cosmos beyond.  A weary sigh escaped his lips, and he slumped down against the wall, finally able to rest at long last.
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 18
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The strange ship finally gained consensus from its multiple confused consciousnesses and burst from the walls of its parent craft, smashing through the hull in its desperate urgency to escape from the crumbling wreck behind.  Bright rocket motors split the darkness of space, an expanding, cooling cloud of gas trailing in its wake.  The beaconship left behind fractured along its length, parts contracting inwards sharply as the gravity generator failed and sent a shockwave out through the collapsing wreck.  

The tiny captive black hole at the centre of the craft was the next to go, its containment fields destabilising to such a degree that the anomaly wavered in its rapid orbit, colliding with the exotic materials in the shells around.  In less time than it took an electron to orbit its nucleus the structure evaporated with a burst of photons that expanded outwards at the speed of light.  They, in turn, collided with the casing of the machine, producing an intense superheated plasma that moved almost as fast.  

It travelled through the innards of the ship, and the speed at which the particles collided with the normal matter the ship was made up of caused a wash of exotic particles to be produced as matter underwent fusion.  The whole process had finished before any external observer would have been able to see it, and the result was an intense, blinding burst of energy across the entire spectrum.  

The shockwave spread out rapidly in an uneven sphere, and the small escape vehicle rode it like a surfer as it passed by, unsettling the delicate balance of signals inside.  For a moment it spun in the void of space, lifeless and dark.  

We hurt.
Agreed.
We are missing something.
It’s dark!
Cargo has shifted.
Collapse makes too much dark.  
Focus. 
Listen.
Dark.

The ship slowly came back to life, although most of its internal lights remained off.  The creatures inside wailed quietly, clicking and humming to one another in distress as the ship around them creaked and groaned.  Something was not at all right, they had been too close to the mothership when it exploded.  The radiation had damaged their shields.  Many of their number had perished in the dark.  Their shared consciousness was fractured and dangerously unstable.  

Dark!  
Destruction within us.

The ship shook itself with a shudder, a little ripple of displeasure.  It had ended up with many of the feeble worker drones, the leader was elsewhere.  It was alone, and its little family was breaking apart.  They had failed to gather the critical mass of leaders necessary for a self-organising colony.  The ship forced its own will upon the unruly children, imploring them to listen to it, pushing through their wild and uncertain and increasingly irrational thoughts. 

Focus, calm, gentle.  We are not alone.  We will prevail. 
Dark.
There is one here!
There’s no more containers…
Dark.
Where is… the… everything?
Dark.

The ship twitched again, almost uncontrollably.  There was something terribly wrong.  Its distraught charges should have been calming, but they were growing more and more disorganised, and yet somehow… quieter, too.  There were fewer voices now, less thoughts clouding its own. 

Unit count… is lower.  
Darkness!

The ship concentrated hard, trying to force the lights back on through willpower alone.  Inside the walls glowed feebly, casting some illumination on the scattered drones.  Through the eyes of its children it could see the cause of some of the distraction.  Many dead drones lay about, bleeding on the ship’s previously pristine surfaces.  It wasn’t built to investigate mysteries, however, and the effort needed was great. 

It briefly turned its attention back to space, realising now that it was off course, the distraction had cost it.  With a frustrated groan it carefully adjusted its heading, turning to face the glittering blue planet nearby, wreathed in inviting clouds and with such a pleasing shell of particles trapped in its perfect magnetic field.  It looked… tasty.  

The ship felt elation, they were going to land.  Its good mood passed through to the drones inside, and they calmed a little, seeing shreds of the imagery, sensing the sweet sunlight of the new world.

Light!  
Hurry

The ship felt a little glimmer of pleasure.  It had rescued the situation, its charges were no longer dying from despair.  That was a good thing.  But still, they seemed smaller, further away… somehow less.  

Dark,
Dark,

Its attention was snapped back from the enticing jewel in the sky that filled its vision.  Something was still wrong.  The thoughts of its children were growing even weaker.  It tried to count the distinct threads, and it was a frighteningly easy task.  Thinking clearly was becoming more difficult, its own mind felt sluggish.  It was certain it had started with more drones, though.  Something was wrong.

With a renewed sense of urgency it focused its remaining thoughts on the light once more, forcing the interior to glow brightly.  There were few left alive, something terrible had happened.  There was still darkness.  A corner.  What was that, in the gloom?     

Darkness…

Its sluggish thoughts lingered too long and suddenly it was aware of a pain like no other, the heat of planetary entry.  The hot air tore at its outer surface, entire pieces breaking off and glowing white hot as they spun away in a wild, uncoordinated dance.  It cried out in agony, desperately firing its rockets to arrest its speed.  Its panic was contagious and soon the interior was pandemonium, the remaining drones running wild, out of control and in full flight mode yet with nowhere to go.  It wanted to console them and calm them, but all of its attention had to be focused on the descent.  There was no margin for error.  

Darkness…




Riley fell, gasping, from the bottom of the ship and crawled feebly away into the trees.  The tumultuous descent had been terrifying, and for a while he had lost all hope that the craft was going to make any sort of viable landing.  As it was he had several new bruises and was lucky not to have broken anything when the thing finally did come to rest after a few vigorous bounces through the trees.

His entire body ached from the effort of sneaking around the ship, and looking back over the past few hours he marvelled at the fact he was still alive, there had been over a hundred Thala on the ship, at least half of which had been fighters of some caste or other.  He had hidden in the shadows, biding his moment, and picked them off one at a time, trying to reduce their numbers.  Without any sort of leadership nearby they were aimless and uncoordinated, unable to comprehend what was going on, and in the darkness after the shockwave from the collapsing mothership they’d been unable to fight back, their senses crippled by confusion and a lack of light.

He spat out the mouthpiece from the respirator he’d found in storage and drew deep, luxurious lungfuls of the fresh Equestrian air.  After the ordeal he had just faced and the horrible lack of clean air it smelled and tasted like the finest mountain breeze imaginable, tainted with the soft, delicate scent of forest flowers and the sweet, pungent aroma of tree sap.  

The remains of the Thala onboard had fled shortly after it landed, but he’d waited as long as he could bear to let them disperse.  It was broad daylight on the ground, and he was weak and terribly vulnerable without the darkness.  He knew he should move, but under the spell of intense fatigue he had only managed to crawl a few hundred paces into the trees before collapsing and rolling onto his back.  He could almost imagine that the soft, loamy ground of the forest underneath him and its blanket of pine needles was a bed in a top-notch hotel somewhere, comfortable beyond all belief.  

It was too hard to motivate himself to care, just being back on the ground made him feel like he had reached the end of his journey, against all odds he had prevailed and was safe and sound on solid earth once more.  Nothing could hurt him anymore, no danger could come close to the things he had faced.  It was over, and he deserved a rest, more than any man before ever had, he was sure.

He lost track of how long he lay there, watching the sunlight dance through the green and orange branches of the trees high above him, occasional leaves floating serenely down through the cool, calm air to land with soft little sounds nearby.  Some part of him was urgently whispering in the back of his mind, telling him to get up, that he needed to get back, needed to get to safety and to water.  His mouth was dry and lips cracked, but he really couldn’t summon the energy to care.

Dimly he became aware of the pattering of soft rain on leaves some time later, and the occasional big fat drop fell from the trees above to splash against him, a few wetting his parched lips.  The bright sun had faded and the trees were receding into the evening dusk, black silhouettes against the fading sky.  The length of the day had shortened, he slowly realised, and the revelation made him glad, it meant that Twilight Sparkle had got back safely, and he would see her again soon, somehow. 

He tried to move but the sharp pain in leg suddenly flared up as if someone had stabbed a hot poker into his flesh.  The endorphins woke him up immediately, providing him with a rush of clarity and he groaned through clenched teeth, abruptly realising what a perilous state his body was in.  Slowly and carefully he pushed himself up on his arms, leaning forwards to inspect his torn thigh.  

Trying to roll his shredded trouser leg up was unbearably painful, every movement a trial in keeping his consciousness.  The gash looked nasty and had started to bleed again after he tried to move.  The bandage he had hastily applied had become tightly ingrained into the wound, drawn into the ragged hole and stuck in place with partially clotted blood.  He gingerly poked at it, biting his lip until that too began to bleed. 

He had no medical supplies, the backpack he had so carefully filled with items in preparation for his forced exile was presently floating in orbit around the moon somewhere in a cloud of debris, if it even existed at all anymore.  He lay back wearily, letting the cool rain mist his face, washing away some of the dirt and grime. 

Many other cuts and sprains and bruises made themselves felt as he concentrated, but none as badly as his leg.  He knew it was infected, the Thala were a heavily symbiotic race, relying on a whole host of strange bacteria and parasitic organisms, many of which were communicable to humans.  Ordinarily he would trust his immune system to deal with the worst of them, but these days, in his weakened state, it wasn’t doing so well.

He knew he hadn’t slept but it seemed as if an uncertain length of time had passed when he next became aware of movement nearby.  He watched hazily as a group of ponies appeared out of the trees, surrounding him in a circle, whispering to one another in low voices.  An older mare stepped forwards, clad in beads and heavy metal jewellery.  Riley thought he recognised her, and she clinked and clattered as she drew closer.  

“The Great and Powerful Trixie has sent a star to us,” she announced formally, kneeling with a cracking of old, arthritic joints.  Riley sighed, it was this lot again. 

“I’m not…” he mumbled, barely able to form words from his dry lips.  

“The Riley is unwell,” she announced, spotting his injuries.  “Rest.  We will care for you.  Her will is clear.  She has sent you to us, so that we may prove ourselves worthy of Her divinity once more.”

He was too tired to complain, and whatever salve another elderly unicorn was carefully applying to his leg with magic was wonderfully numbing, balancing on the threshold of pain but never quite crossing it.  The familiar tingling of unicorn magic tickled at his cybernetics and he found he was floating a few feet off the ground, suspended by glimmering clouds of magical light from all around.  If the ground had been a luxury hotel then this was the clouds of heaven itself.

The forest moved by serenely, the strange tribe carrying him through the evening and into the darkness of the night.  Several of them were humming a complex, twisting melody, full of deep harmonies and hinting at a long history.  The gentle motion lulled him to sleep, the pain lessened at last, and when he woke next it was fully night-time.  The gentle rain had stopped and through the branches he could see the stars glittering brightly.  They had laid him down on a bed of grass under a woven roof supported by rough poles cut from tree branches.  Nearby a small fire crackled to itself, occasionally spitting when a damp piece of wood caught light. 

His feverish state grew worse and worse over the course of the next day, his skin growing hotter and hotter until he felt as though he would catch fire.  He sweated constantly, but at the same time couldn’t control the shivers that shook his body.  The ponies tended to him day and night as if he were one of their own, bringing him water and forest fruits, and on the second night his fever finally broke.

Slightly more lucid at last he began to take proper stock of his surroundings.  The camp was smaller than before, but not for less ponies, they had simply squashed everything tighter together, as if huddling for warmth.  The elder explained to him that winter was coming, and they were uncertain what to expect, the length of the day had changed dramatically.  It was prudent to keep close, to keep everypony on alert.  

After eating a little more and drinking what seemed like a gallon of water he felt well enough to leave his bed, and with the help of a strong stallion he tottered unsteadily around the camp, alarmed at how weak his body had grown.  He could put no weight at all on his injured leg, although the swelling had lessened dramatically and they had been hard at work cleaning the wound while he hovered someplace between unconsciousness and the waking world. 

On his walk he spotted a small heap of Thala bodies in a pile near the centre of the camp, a few ponies were working over them, cutting them up with long curved knives and inspecting this strange new enemy.  He was glad to see they appeared to be a match for them, it was difficult to know how many might have escaped the doomed beacon ship and made it to the surface, but if he could rely on ponies such as the fierce Lulamoon tribe to clear them out then he would sleep a lot better.  There was still the risk of an outbreak if a small pocket with a leader caste survived undisturbed, but at least it was a manageable risk, one against which a firm defence could be prepared.  The Thala could not reproduce in great numbers without drawing attention to themselves, nor could they produce a leader without a large number of drones nearby.

He spoke with the tribe’s elder, Emerald Dream, and was able to ascertain that they believed him some sort of messenger from their goddess, they had seen the flash of light from the explosion, and watched the Thala dropship falling from the sky.  After their last encounter with Twilight and her insistence that she and this Trixie character had been friends they had come to the conclusion that Twilight was some sort of sister-goddess, and were mortally afraid they had insulted her.  

After a bit of conniving he found he had quite a lot of power over the tribe, who believed him to be an angel of sorts, and he had them agree to hunt down the Thala, something they were adept at doing, having lived for generations in the forest, hunting the foul creatures that lived there.  On the third morning he announced his intention to leave, and to travel to Ponyville.  They still believed the town to be some sort of mystical holy place, and insisted on sending an honour guard with him.

In truth he was quite glad of the protection, knowing there were maybe Thala in the woods somewhere, and goodness knows what else to boot.  Discord had removed a lot of his creatures, but he wasn’t sure he trusted him entirely.  The ponies had proven themselves in battle on at least two occasions now, and he felt safe with them, even so.

It was a day’s wearisome travel before they reached the giant circular clearing in the middle of the seemingly endless forest.  His companions grew increasingly restless as they approached and spoke of dangerous forces and an impenetrable, cursed barrier up ahead.  He began attempting to explain the interface between the real world and the bubble of stopped time, but they seemed disinclined to listen, preferring to believe the spiritual explanation they had been raised with.

When they arrived at the timberline and there was nothing to show for it other than blue sky and fields that had gone to seed they were confused and afraid and refused to leave the shelter of the trees at all.  No amount of persuasion seemed to work, and in all honesty he had little patience to try much harder.  His stomach was unsettled with nerves, and he felt rather like a schoolboy again, on route to his first day at class.  

He was looking forward to Twilight’s reaction when she found him alive and well, yet still suffered an element of unease that came from not quite knowing if he had all the facts right.  She had said she was in love, but the moment had been very intense and rushed, she can’t have been thinking completely clearly with the oxygen deprivation and stress.  Back home, in a more mundane setting, she might feel differently.  There was also a possibility she wouldn’t even remember saying it at all, the escape pods were launched dangerously quickly after all, there was no doubt she would have passed out almost immediately.

The closer his feet brought him to the town the more nervous he became.  He was unsure of his own feelings in the matter, there was no doubt he had become very fond of the mare, and there was no denying the strange thrill the brief kiss had produced.  Love, however, was a very strong word and hid a few slightly awkward questions.  What would he say to her?  Would she broach the subject first?  How would her friends react to him being such a part of her life - an alien intruder in their colourful world?  Did he even share those feelings?  Was it right?  He was alone, now, the last human in a world of ponies, so did that even matter?

He limped onwards and nodded at a few ponies he saw along the way.  He was on the outskirts of Ponyville where a lot of the smaller, newer residences were.  Many were in ruins, windows smashed and thatched roofs missing, burnt timbers sticking up like ribs, yet it was clear that the ponies weren’t sitting back and moping, there was busy, quiet industry all around.  Nobody (nopony, he reminded himself, he was going to have to learn how to fit in now) seemed surprised to see him, but he wasn’t sure if they simply didn’t know the full story yet.

Riley was a little surprised to come across the wreck of a couple of the smaller frigates.  There were long, deep furrows in the ground behind them, leading all the way back to the centre of town.  It looked as though a team of ponies had been towing them away before giving up.  He followed the deep ruts for a way until he came to a tall statue, depicting Discord, of all things.  There were a few ponies around, but they kept their distance from it, eyeing it with evil glares.  He walked up close and inspected it, the workmanship was exquisite, but he was puzzled as to why they would have put so much effort into something while their town was still largely in ruins.

“Riley!” came a loud voice from the side and he turned, spotting the familiar orange form of Applejack galloping straight for him.  He held a hand up in an awkward wave, but she was beside him in a flash and he lowered it again.

“Hi,” he said, unsure of how to begin.  He kicked himself inside, if he was struggling to even speak to Applejack then he was sure he’d be a bumbling wreck by the time he found the library.

“Ah’m a little surprised to see you, Riley,” she said eventually, cocking her head to one side.  “We understood you’d… gone.”

“Mmm, we’re hard to get rid of,” he said, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.  She raised an eyebrow quizzically. 

“Ah see you’ve found old Discord there,” she said smugly, crossing her hooves and leaning casually against the base of the statue with her hat at a jaunty angle.  “Ah gather we’ve got you to thank, for getting back these beauties.”

He looked down around her neck, spotting the fat orange jewel that hung from a simple woven gold cord.  He nodded, giving her a lazy salute and she dipped her head back.  “I’m just sorry to have been the cause of so much trouble in the first place.  I have to ask, though, why the statue?”

“This here ain’t no statue, darling,” she said, tapping it with a hoof.  “That’s the beast himself, turned to stone again.  Once things’ve settled back down a bit I daresay they’ll be wanting to cart ‘im back off to Canterlot, but until then he’s got to stay here, glowerin’ at the town all evil-like.”

Riley took a step back, glancing up nervously at the twisted face above him.  Every sensibility in him was shouting that this was a silly idea, you couldn’t just turn creatures to stone, but then again this was Equestria, and he had already seen enough odd things to allow him to accept near enough anything now. 

Applejack noticed his expression and mistook it for fear.  “Don’t you fret none, though,” she said, stepping away, “he ain’t going anywhere.  Ah just wish he didn’t spook everypony out so bad.”

“Quite,” Riley said, looking away with a shake of his head.  “Is, uh, everything else alright?  Did, um, everyone… I mean, everypony, make it?”

“Sure did,” she said, beckoning for him to follow her as she trotted slowly back into town.  “Twilight’s alive and kickin’.”

He sighed with relief, it confirmed his conclusion that she had made it.  Applejack’s voice was strangely flat, however, and betrayed no emotion.  Riley watched her suspiciously, she wasn’t telling him everything.  “What’s wrong?”

“Twilight ain’t been right, since she got back.  We’re all mighty worried about her, to tell the truth.  Your fancy space-ship thing got her back alive, and she came floatin’ down on a parachute just outside the town, but ah ain’t ever seen a pony look so unwell as Twilight did.  Not one that’d live long, at any rate.”  

She halted as she waited for him to catch up, and gave him a long look up and down.  “Ah guess you don’t look much better yourself, but you’re tough as old boot leather, I fancy.  Hard to get rid of, like.”

He smiled but certainly didn’t feel it.  She gave a deep sigh and sat down on the grass, taking off her hat. 

“She ain’t said much to anypony since she’s been back, Riley, we didn’t know what to do.  Rarity guessed that you’d… well, gone, and we all know how fond of you poor Twilight was.  She don’t take loss well.  What with the stress of bein’ princess now, and the town in ruins an’ so many good ponies hurt it was just too much for her.”

Riley willed her silently to get to the crux of the story.  She was scaring him.  “What did she do?”

“She saved the world, of course,” Applejack said with a sad smile.  “Like she always does.  She got the six of us together again, reunited with our elements.  Discord didn’t stand a chance.  Princesses Celestia and Luna arrived, and together the three of them gave the sun a talkin’ to.  Everything fixed, like.

“But then she said she had to sleep, and of course nopony would fault her for that.  Trouble was that she didn’t wake up again, not for days.  The princess said she’d overdone it, used too much magic, and it’d just take a while for her mind to recover.  Secretly, though, I think she just didn’t want to wake up.”

Riley’s chest felt too tight again, his heart pumped erratically, straining against his ribs.  “I have to go see her.”

A large red pony came trotting up and gave her a look, chewing a stalk of grass.  Applejack sighed and nodded at him, throwing her hat back on her head with a smooth and well practised motion.  “Ah think you’d better get to the library, Riley.  Fluttershy’s there, she’ll explain.”

With another nod she left with her brother, returning to whatever construction project they were helping with.  

Riley hobbled onwards in frustration, he desperately needed to get to the library but his leg ached more and more with each step, forcing him to limp along like an old man, leaning heavily on the crooked stick he had liberated from the forest.  As he approached the centre of the town he encountered more and more ponies, and many of them stopped their work to watch him limp by, talking amongst themselves in low voices.  Clearly some rumours had already spread. 

The treehouse loomed large in front of him, huge leafy branches stretching out in all directions.  The windows had all been repaired, colourful glass panes bright in the midday sun.  Several ponies watched him as he stepped up to the thick oak door and knocked.  There was no reply and he pushed it open, ducking under the archway.  The hinges had not yet been replaced, he could see. 

Inside was quiet and still, feeling as though nobody lived there.  He forced the lump down in his throat and willed his stomach to settle.  There was some soft noise coming from upstairs and he hurried up the short curved flight as quickly as he could, wincing with every step. 

“Oh my goodness!” gasped Fluttershy, turning at the sound of him and dropping the duster she was holding in her teeth.  She had cowered down, hugging the floor and only very slowly stood back up, avoiding his glance.  “You frightened me.”

He apologised, looking around anxiously.  The place was very neat, Fluttershy had been cleaning, all Twilight’s belongings were carefully arranged in their places, the books she had been reading neatly stacked, but there was no sight of their owner. 

“Where is she?” he asked, pleadingly.  

Fluttershy picked a folded square of paper up from a side table and passed it to him mutely.  His fingers were unsteady as he unfolded it, and what he could only assume was Twilight’s messy writing met him.


My Dearest Friends,

It is with a heavy heart that I pen this letter to you.  The last week or two (if it’s really been that long, I admit I have rather lost track of time) have been of a somewhat trying nature for me.  I know that on occasion in the past I have “lost it”, so to speak, so I can hardly pretend I have the most stable psyche to begin with, but this has just been one straw too many and I cannot bear it any longer.
I feel worn out and old, which is silly.
I am sorry to have been so cold to you all, but the world itself feels cold to me in return, the colour and the joy I used to see has all gone.  That is also silly, because I know I have you five, the best friends a girl could ask for, but I feel so alone right now and I don’t think anything, or anypony, can change that.  I cannot be the good friend you all deserve while I am in this state.
I hope you can forgive me for leaving, but I need to spend some time away from Ponyville and the hurtful memories it prompts, to collect my thoughts and come to peace with the friends we’ve lost.  I need some time to let the scars heal.  
Spike is with me, so you need not fear for my safety.  I look forward to seeing you all again soon.

Love,

Twilight Sparkle. 

PS: Apologies for my terrible scrawl.  It would seem that dear Spike has grown too large to take letters these days.



Riley folded it up neatly and handed it back to Fluttershy.  If he was honest, he felt a little relieved.  He had been afraid she was deathly ill and unable to leave her bed, but if she was well enough to go travelling then she was in no immediate danger.

“I am glad to see you well, mister Riley,” Fluttershy said meekly as he sat wearily down on the edge of the bed.  He gave her what he hoped was a warm, encouraging smile. 

“And you, too,” he told her.  “I’m glad you and the others overcame Discord, it looks like things are finally working out for you all.”

“Fluttershy!  Riley!” came Rarity’s voice from downstairs.  He had left the door open.  She came racing up the stairs, not at all delicately. 

“By Celestia, you’re alive!” she exclaimed, coming to peer at him closely, in case he was somehow an illusion.  “I must say, I didn’t quite believe Applejack when she told me.  I fancied she was simply trying to get me to stop interfering.  They’re building the most gaudy barn you can imagine, it’s a travesty to exterior design.”

Riley stared at her.  

“Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners.  I am very pleased to see you well, Riley.”

“Likewise,” he said with a nod, not getting up.

“I cannot deny we all feared the very worst when poor Twilight came back alone.  I presume Fluttershy has shown you the note, yes?”

He nodded, and Fluttershy cowered a little further.  “Was I not supposed to, Rarity?  Oh, I am terribly sorry.”

“Don’t be silly, Fluttershy, of course you were to show him.  He is as tightly bound up in this as we are.”

“Oh, that’s okay, then.  Well, I should be going, I promised I would see to mister Greenback’s animals this afternoon.”

The yellow pegasus slunk out of the room with barely a whisper, and Riley couldn’t help but feel guilty that he had somehow driven her away.  He didn’t know her very well at all, but she seemed terribly shy around him.  It was hard to know if he’d upset her, or if she was like that with everyone. 

“You really mustn’t mind Fluttershy,” Rarity was saying, evidently reading his expression.  “She’s like that with every new pony she meets.”

“When will Twilight return?” he asked her, rubbing at his leg.  It was throbbing uncomfortably again, the soothing herbs and magic of the forest ponies was wearing off. 

Rarity sat primly on the thick rug next to the bed, sitting up to speak to him.  “I don’t know, my dear.  I was rather hoping you might be able to help find her, do you not have any magic of your own that could help?  If you can travel to the stars and back again then finding a lonely unicorn in Equestria must be easy.”

She looked hopeful.  He blew a light snort and gestured at himself.  “Hardly.  This is all I own in the world, right now.  Even the clothes I packed have gone.  Absolutely nothing left.”

Rarity looked a little crestfallen.  

“When did she leave?”

“Yesterday morning, before first light.”  She sighed deeply and pawed at the rug.  “It was my fault, I had volunteered to stay here the night and watch over her, but I was feeling low myself, and partook of a bottle of wine.  It, ah, must have caused me to sleep more heavily than is perhaps proper for a lady.  When I awoke, she was gone.”

He looked down at the floor in dismay, studying the fine woven thread that she sat on.  He had been on the surface for three nights, if he had not lingered with the forest ponies he might have caught her, before she left.  Maybe she would even have stayed. 

“I believe you took something from her, didn’t you?” Rarity was asking shrewdly, leaning forwards slightly to catch his eye.  

He looked up in indignant surprise.  “I would never,” he began. 

“You have stolen her heart,” Rarity continued with a sly smile, cutting off his protest. 

“Oh,” he said, slumping a little.

“And she believes you dead, doesn’t she?  She is stricken with grief and heartbreak.  That is the reason she has left.”

He studied the unicorn’s face, and it wasn’t entirely friendly, he concluded.  Rarity seemed to be blaming him for Twilight’s depression and subsequent disappearance, which hardly seemed fair.

“Can’t Celestia find her?”

Now it was Rarity’s turn to snort in scorn.  “Twilight Sparkle is the most powerful mortal unicorn that Equestria has ever seen, and I daresay will ever seen again.  If she wishes to stay hidden, then she will do so, even from the princesses.  Besides, I think it may be in her best interest to have some time away, regardless of you.

“Although it seems a little unfair to allow her to think you gone, she must already have accepted that as truth, thus the worst will already be passing.  She still has a lot to mourn, after all, her family is gone and the place she grew up is empty and bare, and so much has been lost.”

“Maybe I should go after her.”

Rarity gave him a withering look.  “I don’t think you’re in any state to go anywhere, Riley.  You need to rest and recover, a trip to the hospital would be in order, I believe.  You wouldn’t want those wounds to scar.”

Riley breathed out through his nose in a rush of air, almost a sharp bark of mirthless laughter.  He poked forlornly at his tattered leg, thinking that there was no hope of avoiding a scar from that one.  He was pretty sure he’d have a limp for the rest of his life.  He knew his face was quite scratched up as well, although the worst was from the roc’s attack some while ago, and while they had cleaned and stitched it when he returned to camp it had had a long time before that to go bad.  He ran his fingers over it, inspecting.  Perhaps it would earn him a nickname, he wondered.

“Do you love her?”

He looked up sharply at the sudden question, caught off-guard.  Several answers came to the front of his mind, and he wasn’t sure which of them were correct.  Fortunately the noisy and dramatic arrival of Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie saved him from having to answer. 

Rainbow crashed into him on the bed before he had time to react and he found himself wrapped tightly in her legs and wings, soft and warm and fragrant.  She let him go after a second, looking a little abashed as Rarity glared at her fiercely.  

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said with a wide smile, sitting back on the bed.  He sat back up, trying hard not to grimace at the discomfort in his leg.  “It’s been kinda dull without you guys around.”

Meanwhile Pinkie Pie had bounced up the stairs and was reeling off a rapid torrent of high pitched words while jumping around the room.  Riley tried to follow but every third word seemed to be “fun” or “party” and none of it really made a lot of sense to him.  Every now and again she would pause to take a great gasping breath before continuing.

Rainbow Dash was giggling and Rarity rolled her eyes theatrically.  “I think it would be everypony’s best interest if you stayed here, Riley.  Somepony needs to keep the library, after all.  We’ve been taking shifts, but after a long day toiling to rebuild one’s home and livelihood it is terribly wearing to feel the need to care for a library, as well.”