When a mystery object appears in the night sky with a blaze of light, how could Twilight not find out what it is?
One lovely night, a mystery object appeared in the night sky. Twilight spotted it and, thanks to her new telescope, is able to track it as it races towards her home. What is it? Where did it come from? More importantly, can she stop it from crushing Canterlot?
Tags may be updated as the story progresses.
Cancelled for being a dinosaur that I don't really like writing.
Ponies all across Equestria missed the momentary blaze of light in Princess Luna’s night sky. Even the Princess of the Night herself missed it for hours after it happened.
Four hours, thirteen minutes, and twelve seconds after the flash first occurred, Princess Twilight is testing her brand new telescope. It’s the finest Equestria could produce, with the clearest image yet on faraway objects. She’s trying to see exactly how far she can get, and potentially find some details on some of the stars in Princess Luna’s night sky. Thus, she’s discovered numerous faint specs that her old telescope simply couldn’t see. She’s all the way up to maximum magnification, examining one of these specs.
Four hours, thirteen minutes, twelve seconds, and two hundred eighteen milliseconds exactly1 after it occurred, the flash reaches Twilight’s telescope lens- and happens to be in her field of view. She flinches from the light- but watches the daylight-bright glare in the middle of the darkness die down to nothing just as quickly as it had appeared. Wait, not nothing- there’s now a faint speck of light where it had come from, rather than the blackness there had been before. She focuses the telescope on it, and charges her horn for a complex spell she’d come up with, for finding the distance to the various celestial bodies.
This spell, unlike most magic, travels faster than the eye can see. About a hundred thousand times faster, if her measurements are correct. All it does is travel to the target of her inquisition and return. It only barely works on the dim specks she saw on her old telescope, now bright and clear, though it can take close to a full day to get back on those2. As long as she logs the time it took correctly, she can then compute the distance to whatever it is she sent it at. She finally releases the spell- and yelps audibly as it returns, almost instantly.
Celestia’s sun reflects this spell so fast it’s like she’s sending it at herself. She considers using a slower spell, one that’s more useful for objects near Equis itself- like meteorites. The one she used to help Luna time a meteor shower for the perfect moment last weekend. It travels at only a hundred times the speed of sight- and had produced a bounce time of about ten seconds off of Celestia’s sun. She doesn’t really want to use it; her first spell bounced off this new object in about half a second, meaning this new spell should take around eight minutes- and offer her a more accurate distance measurement, as an integrated part of the spell, despite being right at its maximum range. She glances at the clock and sends it on its way.
It never comes back.
She curses to herself as she plows her way through blown control runs and fried circuits. She had managed to keep the ship in one piece- only for a rift energy pulse to blow out all of her forward rift sensors and destabilize her rift engines. Now, she’s battling to get the one system capable of protecting the ship from such pulses working before the next one comes by- even without word from the captain.
She’s already decided she’s lucky; the damage that disabled this automatic defensive system was merely a few blown power runs; the control links remained fully functional, even if they don’t carry enough power to operate the shield, they were able to verify complete operability, given she can restore power to it. She’s lucky in that regard, as well- not only is one of the power runs nearly intact, but the container of spare cables remained perfectly unharmed! Bonus, the break in the run is only right outside Main Engineering, where she was stationed as the ship’s chief engineer.
She links the cable and dashes back to Main Engineering to activate the line. The self-test takes a quarter of a second before that new cable takes on its maximum design load. It’s not as heavy as the rest of the power runs- but it’ll work. The computer is smart enough to limit the flow, even if it lengthens the shielding unit’s startup time and reduces its maximum output. At least it’ll still cover the entire ship- and protect them against boarding parties and kidnappers. Most of them, at any rate- any that realize her entire forward sensor suite is out won’t have any trouble getting small craft in close without getting shot at.
She watches the numbers on her control panel for a few seconds, keying in a few com codes- and is thence present to spot the alert that shoots back through the system when something slams into the shield right after it finishes covering the ship. With no response from the Captain, the Exec, or Engineering Two, she takes off to start putting the damaged control runs back together on an intact forward radar array.
While she is away, the internal biosign scan she’d kicked off comes back, displaying its dismal results on the abandoned screen.
Almost three hours after first light, Rainbow lands on Twilight’s balcony. “So, anything new?”
Twilight scowls at her friend. Ever since that steadily brightening dot appeared in the sky a week ago, she’s been working everything she possibly can to find out what it is. Only problem is, it seems to simply absorb everything she throws at it, like it’s not even there. She’d managed to confirm this the day before with a series of spells she custom-built for measuring the empty space- they’d started to get back but, the moment they reached near this speck, they simply stopped. Disappeared.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Twilight answers. “It’s close. Like, close enough a simple sight-speed spell would take only eight and a half hours to get back- if it ever came back, that is.” She huffs indignantly.
Rainbow huffs slightly. “So, far enough we don’t have to worry about it?” she asks.
“No, it’s close enough Princess Luna might be able to reach it.” A sideways glance at the clock tells her to expect her repeated space-spell to cut off in about twenty seconds; it’s another hundred-times-sightspeed. “I’m measuring how fast it’s moving right now.”
Silence holds for perhaps ten seconds before Twilight gasps- and starts scribbling down numbers. Her spell had cut off a full three seconds before she had expected it to. A spell she’d started yesterday had recorded the time difference very precisely- at 3.376 seconds, with an impact time almost exactly twenty-four hours apart. Finally, she stares at her page.
“That thing is moving…” She pauses, scribbles a few numbers, and looks back at Dash. “That thing is moving fast enough to wrap around the entirety of Equis in just over a minute3.”
Ninety-three thousand, four hundred eighty-seven. Dead.
The scary part? If she adds just one to that total, herself, that comes out to her ship’s entire crew complement1.
What had managed to kill almost a hundred thousand humans, but not herself? She’s found numerous corpses in the months since. The medbay had told her that each and every one of them looked perfectly healthy. As near as she or her computers could tell, they had all simply stopped living.
At the same time.
She has cleared the bodies from any rooms still holding pressure. Thankfully, this includes the entire hydroponics bay; at least she doesn’t have to starve. Cold comfort that is, when just about every propulsive or defensive system is shot. She’s been working repairs- and as just managed to seal up the main fuel bus for the few remaining intact reverse engines. Next up, gyros-
The alarms go off again. She dodges to the nearest panel, striking the key to read the problem.
She’s dangerously close to a star. Again. This time, though, not only is it detected earlier by the better-functioning aft sensors, but it’s going to pass behind her, not in front… Without ever dropping her into the truly dangerous zone. At least she managed to get the last-ditch hull shield online last week, before this star came too close the first time; so long as it doesn’t get any closer than a few thousand kilometers, it shouldn’t be able to damage her ship. It’s closer this time than last- but the range is still almost a quarter million kilometers at the closest approach. She’ll be okay- but, just to be safe, she’ll stay in the forward half of the ship until it passes.
Which is interesting. This is the second time she’s passed this star- and her computer tells her that, aside from a perfect emissions signature match, the passes are exactly twenty-four hours apart. Furthermore, the computer notes the arc in its path, the center of which is a matter of light-minutes ahead. Roughly sixty hours of flight time, as a matter of fact- two and a half days. More cold comfort- at least she won’t hit it until she reaches the other side of its odd circle, which the computer places as a solid impact between ship and star.
A few more keys reveal more interesting information. This star appears to be a fairly standard G-class main sequence star, though the speed of its orbit could only mean it’s orbiting a singularity. A singularity her sensors cannot see, and which does not seem to affect her ship’s observable velocity.
Twilight is going crazy. Celestia’s sun had hidden the target of her observations from her view every day. As the thing came closer, it eventually stopped blocking out the tiny dot with the glow of day, but only with its direct passage. These last three times, though, the thing eclipsed Celestia’s sun- and is visible during the day not as a light, but as a shadow. It’s also beginning to be visible to the naked eye, as a faint glint in the night sky. When she searches through her telescope, despite how much closer it has gotten, it’s still a slightly oblong glinting object. Still too far, even after these three months, to get any meaningful appearance estimates… Though she is able to start guessing at its size, and plot its course.
That’s the part she’s worried about. It’s at least as big as Ponyville itself- and it’s headed straight for Canterlot at such speed that she wouldn’t be surprised if it broke the planet apart. It’s still simply ignoring every spell she throws at it- and she expects touchdown in another eight hours or so.
She sends another letter to Princess Celestia. Perhaps the two royal Princesses can capture it in their joint magic when it comes closer than Luna’s moon, in about seven hours, and deflect it? She peers into her telescope again- and something has changed. Celestia’s sun is still behind it, so it’s still a shadow- but there’s a few bright spots on its front, like fire. Is it already hitting the burning layer? She already knows magic cannot touch meteors once they start burning, until they finish… Or strike surface. But it’s a million times too far for that!
“Uh, Twilight?”
“Yes Applejack?”
“You do know you’re sayin’ all that out loud, right?”
“Oops sorry!”
“And you do remember that megameteor we deflected with the Elements last week, right?”
Twilight stops at this. “Huh? Oh, yes, we did… But it’s moving so fast we might not-”
“So we just trigger it sooner,” Applejack interrupts. “Seriously. Come to bed- even the Princesses are napping before we tackle that thing!” Nevermind, she thinks, that they only need to because you’ve kept them up all night.
A sigh and, after another fruitlessly long gaze into her telescope, Twilight finally turns in. Two all-nighters in a row is a little much, as it turns out- she’s asleep almost before she lands on her bed.
Deceleration is holding steady. Now, vertical thrusters; I’m on a collision course right now. She races through the ship, hunting down key components for the vertical thrusters, both fore and aft. She’s managed to ignite a couple of the remaining reverse thrusters, producing an acceleration of about one G- and thank the heavens the gravity generator is still working! Those reverse thrusters should be able to reduce her to orbital velocity for the planet she detected ahead of her fifteen minutes ago, but unless she can get herself out of a collision course, simple orbital velocity won’t save her life. Her ship, even in its current state, has enough structural integrity and armor to withstand a planetary collision at orbital velocities; unfortunately, with the inertial compensator shot, the same cannot be said for anything else.
Fifteen hours later, three Princesses, two Pegasi, two Earth ponies, and a Unicorn, all confused, stand on the upper balcony of Twilight’s castle. The thing in the sky has been slowing down inexplicably; Twilight’s latest estimate places it as hitting the burn layer about as fast as a meteor might, in another hour. She’s gotten some pretty good telescope views of it- even if the glare from the flame sticking out the front hides much of its appearance. As near as they can tell, it’s some kind of giant, metal dragon-like creature. Even now, none of the Princesses can touch it with their magic; it all simply bounces off, it seems. Thus, Twilight and the non-Princess ponies present are standing ready with the Elements of Harmony- which won’t be of much use until it hits the burning layer.
Vertical thrusters working. A few of them, at least- estimate 0.8g maximum lift. She rushes for the bridge to light them off- but before she quite gets in the hatch, she feels the buffeting effect of reentry strike the ship. What- NO! Not the atmosphere! She makes a mad dash to the command chair, spends two seconds buckling in, and strikes at the controls, igniting the vertical thrusters. Accelerative impetus… 0.81g. Not bad. A few numbers on the navigation panel, however, indicate that it won’t be enough- she’s already caught in the planetary gravity field, and will have to rise to avoid a mountain. Lateral thrusters not responding, boosting forwards not an option, reverse thrusters still running. She can’t do anything!
But wait, she can. She can jettison weight. A few strokes on the control panel and fully 15% of the ship’s mass is released to crash into the mountain instead of herself.
A 15% that will leave the still-running rift shield before two of the four giant missiles hit the mountain, the other two landing on flatter terrain. She estimates she’ll be able to glide her ship overtop the rest of the continent to crash in the ocean- a much gentler collision than on land. Her available vertical thrust is just barely insufficient to hold her ship up against the local gravity field- and besides, it’s easier for the automatic to work repairs on- or under- the surface than in orbit, anyways.
Just a little behind schedule, the object now clearly visible in the sky hits the burn layer. The Elements charge up to deflect it- but the giant rainbow beams bounce off of the air some distance away from it. Four pieces of it are seen falling off- and magic has no trouble reaching them, even if they might be a bit heavy even for the Elements to move. Two of them are almost completely ignored, crashing down on uninhabited land like giant arrows. One of them, the Elements manage to deflect upwards- and slow down enough- that it comes to a rest lying across the top of Canterlot’s mountain. The fourth one, also deflected upwards to avoid the mountain, passes overtop… And lands just outside of Ponyville, like a giant arrow. A quick glance reveals to Twilight that it has struck a couple of buildings on the edge of town- but the ponies seen fleeing that part of town suggest nopony is hurt. They focus back on the bigger piece- which seems to be holding itself up with more dragonfire as it passes directly overhead.
At which point its size fully strikes them- and its shape, as well. It’s wide enough to reach between Ponyville and Canterlot, and twice as long. It has a wide head, connected to its larger body, with two wings reaching out the sides of its body, from which the four giant arrows had fallen. They watch it pass them completely, staring at the oddly circular shapes all over its back, all dark… and similar to the firebreathing ones on its head.
Interesting. The energy that the rift shields continue to deflect has intercepted her jettisoned weapons, altering their landing points- as if protecting something on the mountain. Her ship manages to clear the mountain under its own power, gliding through the air towards the ocean. Once she splashes down, she intends to return to this same shore and settle her ship near it, mostly out of the ocean; she wishes to minimize wave- or water level- damages to the local ecosystem. Her vertical thrusters may not be able to produce enough thrust to lift her ship back to space, but they should be more than enough to create a cushion of air for her to float it on.
The initial impact goes exactly as expected. At the speed of impact, and with the amount of vertical thrust still thundering, her ship skips across the surface of the ocean a few times, exerting jolts as high as eight gees on her, even through the gravity generator’s best efforts- and her command chair’s built-in crash couch. Fortunately, she can handle much higher than that- and when her ship stops skipping, that’s because it’s slowed down enough to develop that cushion of air… And is hovering instead. She uses the single functioning gyro to turn around before a short 10g burst from the main engines sends the whole ship skittering back towards shore. The forward radar array detects a few terrain features she can settle her ship on, over water, without displacing too much liquid- and she orders it done. With a supply of water, she should be able to restart one of the onboard fusion plants. So far, she’s been relying on solar power, either active or stored; now, solar production will be vastly reduced, not only by the planet’s shadow but by its atmosphere.
Her ship glides smoothly into place, tilting slightly to the sides to control lateral motion, before it settles gently onto the ground.
“It’s stopped!” Twilight yelps.
“Where?” Rainbow asks.
“It’s… on the South Luna Ocean, just outside Las Pegasus, but magic still can’t seem to touch it.”
The Sparkle Friendship Initiative’s Friends in Harmony Party arrives on the beach with a flash of purple light- and, immediately, the noise of a party cannon.
“I still don’t think that’s a good name for us, Twi,” Applejack states.
Rarity watches some of the confetti sinking slowly to the ground, whipping out an umbrella to keep it out of her coat. “Why did you have to bring that?” she asks Pinkie.
“Uh, girls?”
“Yes Flutter…. Oh.” Twilight blinks, having followed Fluttershy’s outstretched hoof with her eyes, pointing to the massive, circular thing on the front of one of the wings. They had missed it earlier, thanks to the fire of its approach.
The air is boiling. Twilight can’t think of anything else to describe it, seeing the giant ring thing shift and spin. She can literally see, not just sense, the magic bubbling off of it as it does- and promptly returning to it.
Rainbow snaps her jaw shut. “How powerful…?”
Twilight blinks. “I don’t think even an Alicorn can manipulate that much power.”
“Is it just me, or does it seem to be struggling?” Rarity asks.
Another few seconds of looking later, Twilight responds. “Yes, it does seem to be… But that’s more than enough power to destroy Equestria if it loses control!”
“Eh, but magic is easy to vent safely.”
Everypony looks at the Draconequus. He hadn’t been there a second before.
“What? It’s as easy as-” He snaps his fingers almost demonstratively, breaking off midsentence when an invisible wall of air not far in front of everypony vibrates. The invisible wall, Twilight notices, that she had not been able to teleport past- and that had absorbed or reflected every spell she launched at it. Discord looks at it. “Huh?” He snaps his fingers again, this time teleporting himself past that barrier.
Only, he didn’t get what he was expecting.
Everypony’s jaws drop as the draconequus’ teleport, normally unstoppable even by powerful Alicorn magic, ends far short of its target. In fact, he finds himself smashed against that invisible wall- except there’s now a patch that isn’t (quite) invisible. It’s a transparent blueish color, rippling back to invisibility as he physically bounces off of it, falling flat on the ground.
All six ponies rush forwards. “Discord! Are you okay?”
It takes him a minute to recover from the impact, even with Twilight’s helpful spell.
“Ow,” he mutters, holding his head as he rises to a seated position. “What’d I hit?”
Pinkie Pie pulls a Pinkie. “You hit this thi-AAAAAHHHH!”
She had rocketed up into the air, expecting to strike off of the barrier like a brick wall. Instead, she had passed straight through it, with only the tiniest ripple through the air- and fallen perhaps three meters to the ground in a most un-Pinkielike manner. As Twilight might put it, it’s not like Pinkie Pie to obey the laws of physics.
Applejack charges forwards, not thinking for a second about the possible implications of Pinkie’s sudden obedience to physics. “Pinkie!” The air ripples again as she passes through, though she seems unbothered. “You okay?” She holds out a hoof to help Pinkie up.
Pinkie tries to spring up a couple of times, failing both times before she takes Applejack’s hoof, returning to her own with Applejack’s able assistance. “I’m…” She pauses, and her head hangs slightly. Her poufy mane stays poufy, even though everypony gets the distinct impression it should be going straight. “Okay.” She tries a couple of her trademark hops, but stumbles on each of the landings. Why do physics have to be so stinking difficult? She walks slowly back towards the rest, Applejack at her side.
Almost as soon as the air ripples again, Pinkie rockets into the air, bouncing with her exuberance. “I’m back! Woohoo!”
Discord blinks, finally shaking off the last of his dizziness, and hops back to his feet. He then steps cautiously through the barrier, to another faint ripple, and looks back. After a shrug, he snaps his fingers… Once, twice, thrice, all in vain. Frustrated, he steps back through, snaps his fingers- and finds himself lying on the ground again, unconscious.
Princess Twilight flares her wings while he recovers. “Maybe I can help it control that power.”
Before anypony fully processes what she’d just said, she steps through the barrier. Her horn instantly starts tingling- but she expected this. If Pinkie’s and even Discord’s magic stopped working when they passed through, there must be some kind of antimagic artifact somewhere. Artifacts can be destroyed- or, since she can see so much power easily boiling its way through this artifact’s effect, perhaps she can use magic near that thing anyways, and disable the artifact? She canters forwards, towards the circular thing- only to screech to a halt when Rainbow races in after her.
“You’re gonna- woAH!”
Rainbow had decided to follow in the air- and suddenly lost control of her flight once she crossed the barrier. Her wings beat wildly, but she still crashes- or, more accurately, hits the ground running, recovering in time to avoid faceplanting. Twilight notices that her wings are still providing lift, though it seems not enough to hold her up.
“It’s like magic doesn’t work on this side of the barrier,” Twilight informs. “Even alicorn magic. But if I can siphon and control some of that power, I can change that.” She looks up at the circular thing again- and they both start trotting towards it. It isn’t long before their friends all catch up; Fluttershy, as she entered on her hooves, seems as bothered by it as Applejack.
Docking tractors… Locked. One fuel tank repaired, H2O harvesters starting up, dropping the miraculously undamaged feed. She’d been worried she’d have to carry it up in buckets before she could fix the feed. Power grid… Wait. Power grid, charging faster than it had when she was at dangerous proximity to the local star. Why?
She punches a few buttons. Rift Reactor online… Yes, that explains the power levels; that is the system that allows the ship to hold an unassisted warp jump for generations. But how is it running? The rift reactor feeds off of the energy flows in rift space- and doesn’t work in n-space, at all. Normally. A few more button presses confirm her suspicions: Atmosphere is similar to Earth, approximately 1.02 gees of gravity, at an angle of about two and a half degrees from shipboard. Microbiology… Clean. It’s safe to step outside without a suit, at least within the limits of her ships’ defensive barriers. After all, not many safe objects can deliver five meganewton impacts to the antikinetic energy barrier. That’s well within system tolerances- that barrier alone can tank most small craft (1500 ton range) slamming into it at lightspeed.
So she heads out on foot. She arms herself first, though- a sniper rifle more for the scope than for the firepower, a small autopistol to frighten away anything local that wishes to eat her, and her sword for dealing all of the damage. She decides to head out through the starboard wing- that one’s on solid land, and should deposit her right up close to one of the warp engines, through which the rift reactor is harvesting energy. As near as her few sensors in the area can tell her, it is completely safe- but she wants to check in person, in case she has to order a full engine shutdown to prevent damage. She hates ordering full shutdowns- especially when it’s standard procedure for a ship this large to hold the warp engines on ready standby at all times, in case of a surprise attack. Speaking of which, once she gets the rift sensors back online, a little bit of power to the stabilized rift engines should be enough to jump the ship into orbit- or, with the rift reactor and warp engines all running, into a neighboring galaxy.
But that’s for another time, another day. For now, the airlock is opening, to let her out onto the sandy beach four hundred meters below and two hundred to the side of an active warp engine.
“Wait!” Twilight yelps, stopping suddenly, only a few minutes after they entered.
Everypony stops around her. “What?”
Twilight points with her hoof, towards the ring. “What’s it doing?”
Everypony stares. The shifting masses of energy have increased- but the thing underneath is spinning even faster, glowing brighter… As if charging. A low, sourceless hum can be heard building in the air around them.
“Uh, should we run?” Applejack asks.
“Look!” Fluttershy exclaims, pointing at a Minotaur-like creature standing up close to the round thing. The creature is in the giant thing’s shadow from the sun, but the ring thing’s glowing is making the creature visible again. Fluttershy’s attempt to take off fails. “What about…?”
Her voice dies out in terror as the ring thing suddenly disappears into a whirl of light- and a chasm of moving magic, perfectly aligned with the giant thing’s body, alongside the crack of thunder. The ground quakes underneath their hooves, but the minotaur-thing seems more relieved than worried- if she’s reading its body language correctly, from this far away.
She’s glad she’d come out to look at it. The nearby sensors are too badly damaged to notice- but the engines were unstable. Nothing a regular operational cycle won’t fix, at least- so she’s invoked one. She watches the energy buildup as the engine charges up from standby, and lets out a breath when it finally comes on. Normally, this power level- being minimum- would almost instantly propel the ship backwards to lightspeed… But the forward warp engines flicked on at the same moment, balancing the enormous thrust expertly. She watches the thrust pillar driving away from the engines, flickering only twice before it stabilizes itself the way it’s supposed to, disappearing smoothly into the air. Nevermind that there is no air within thirty feet of that energy plume.
The test cycle holds for twenty seconds before the engine returns to standby. She watches the pillar fade down to the smooth roll the engines are supposed to have. She nods to herself and heads back into her ship, to make sure the other engines have stabilized properly.
Twilight stares. Discord, who had recovered from his second encounter with the wall and run in after them, falls flat on his face.
Forget the power that had been boiling off of it. It had just demonstrated the ability to freely use more power than it would take to vaporize the entirety of Equis… and when it finished, the boil had not returned. Instead, the visible mana had reduced to a ring around the edge of the thing, constantly rolling back in on itself. Rolling, not sparking, not flashing, not curling. Rolling, smoothly and steadily.
Mana does not work this way. The boil had been a high-powered version of what a unicorn could feel if another unicorn started losing control of a spell halfway through; their mana basically goes haywire. Such is the nature of mana- it goes everywhere, often destructively, until it dissipates. Unless, of course, it is directed, whereupon they can use it for far more beneficial tasks. Teleportation is considered by many to be the mark of an expert spellcaster; even the slightest mistake in such a spell will often destroy whatever is being transported. Self-teleportation is often reserved to the select few powerful enough to get into Celestia’s school for gifted unicorns- and, usually, to those of them that get in.
Whatever this is, it’s already demonstrated enough raw power to teleport the entirety of Equestria someplace- and the ability to somehow control all of that power. Even now, that calm roll can only be an ongoing spell.
They’re still staring when it suddenly goes dark. It goes in two stages, though- the mana whips out of sight in less than a second, before the spinning surface underneath seems to bleed some sort of energy- certainly not mana- as it stops spinning, the glow fading down to blackness.
She drums her fingers on the control panel. She has ordered repair priority for the interstellar drive components; even though most of these are still in working condition, they are providing the power to keep the ship running and she wants them to stay that way. Second priority is all of the ships’ rift sensors; if these engines are working in N-space, she needs to know why.
She’s even ordered a full maintenance cycle on her ship’s main rift engines. These massive coils, not far from the heart of the armored mass, are the components that launch the ship into rift space- the components theoretically capable of interdimensional travel. It takes weeks for a cold start- hence why the ship has two of them. That way, one can be shut down for maintenance while the other keeps the ship well beyond lightspeed; objects in rift space will almost instantly fall back into N-space without an active rift engine. It only takes one for an emergency evasive, a high-speed jump chain, or even a long-range jump- though both must be working in tandem to pull off some of the ship’s more spectacular maneuvers. When that rift surge had hit the ship upon her arrival, one of the two had gone into emergency shutdown- several of its control coils had blown- while the other held only barely shy of such. Even now, it’s only barely functioning- and providing the ship with a link to rift space.
With this link, what rift sensors she has are functioning. The rift shields are functioning, the warp engines- and rift reactor- are more than just hunks of meaningless metal. The automatic system is currently working on the disabled engine. Once it’s online, she can shut the other one down for its repairs and sleep soundly at night. She can also utilize some of her ship’s fancier features- like the one that should let her explore ‘as a native’ without changing her own form- without having to worry about overloading damaged components. Even cycling the warp engines had been hard on them, in this state. So she lives, and she waits. She has so many repairs to make.
Twilight rubs her forehead, staring up at the… Well, whatever it is. She and her friends are staying in their camp, resembling an earth pony camp. Applejack, Rainbow, and Fluttershy have been teaching herself, Rarity, and Pinkie how to live without their magic.
Which reminds her. She turns her head, to look at the invisible wall marked by that picket fence they erected. They had originally set up camp on the other side of that fence, outside the invisible dome. Only, one does not simply camp this close to the San Palomino Desert. One great example had come just last night, in the form of some kind of giant scorpion. Twilight had tried casting spells at it, but the powerfully magical creature had shrugged her panicked attacks aside, much like Tirek had her more powerful blasts. Thinking back, she should have kept herself calm and teleported everypony to safety. In the event, she’d been too frightened to even think about it, let alone pull it off.
So they had abandoned their tents and run away- straight through that invisible wall. Twilight had stumbled shortly after crossing, tumbling on the ground- and had happened to see when the giant scorpion had decided it would make lunch out of her.
Only, it hadn’t been able to. Its claw had cracked as it suddenly lurched backwards in a blaze of blue lightning… Right about when it would have touched that barrier, as well. The creature had roared defiance and struck hard with its stinger- only to lose the aforementioned organ to the next flash of lightning, also along that same invisible wall.
All six friends had been staring at it open-mouthed when it suddenly lost the ability to generate a third flash in a blaze of blinding fire and a crack of thunder.
They had yet to figure out exactly what had so easily erased that thing from the desert, left an oblong crater two and a half kilometers long, and scorched their fur, though one thing is certain.
It had come from inside the barrier.
Good thing they had run to the side- relative to the barrier- while they tried to fight the thing, before they ran; their original camp had remained undisintegrated, though a little trampled, and Rarity’s tent had caught fire.
She stares at the readouts. She’d made it, though only barely in time. Rift One had reached criticality and stabilized hardly seconds before that monster had made its blow with the stinger. The surge of rift energy it had brought with it had been far more dangerous than the physical stinger itself; nothing hostile could pass through the perimeter shields, no matter how slow it moved, once she had manually restored function to a couple of other shield systems. The damaged Rift Two had taken the load to keep the rift shield online against that surge- and had blown another control coil, dropping instantly into emergency shutdown.
Good thing Rift One had just come online. It had wobbled as it took the load, but had managed to keep everything running and restabilize as it completed startup procedure and spun up to regular operating power. Even as it had done so, the ship’s close-in defense grid had registered a threat and responded in kind. That scorpion, through a stroke of bad luck, had dealt damage to her ship. The point defense laser that had fired at it had gone full power, dishing out plenty of power to vaporize a heavily armed (and armored) assault shuttle capable of landing as many as two hundred armored soldiers… Or carrying almost eight hundred unarmored passengers. Suffice it to say, the creature hadn’t stood a chance- and, honestly, neither had the desert behind it.
She decides it’s probably a good thing the point defense weapon had been the first to bear. Had the ship-to-ship plasma cannon come to bear first… Well, there’s a reason the thing is rated at almost four hundred teratons. That defense grid does not play with foes capable of disabling the main warp coils, no matter what state they were in beforehand.
And that’s not even counting what would have happened had such an enemy shown while the ship was in space, where her one functional spinal Thunderer cannon could operate. THAT guided energy projectile could punch through anything, and had blown the top off the scale with its destructive potential. They’d never been able to measure it, though it’s estimated to be somewhere around ten to the ninety-first power tons of TNT. It had quickly earned the popular nickname ‘Starshot’ for how closely it resembles shooting a white hot star at the enemy. Unfortunately- or fortunately, depending on how one looks at it- it’s also powerful enough it cannot operate in atmosphere, else destroy the ship.
She shudders, thinking once again about just how much firepower had almost been unleashed on an unwitting scorpion before she turns back to her control panel. Rift One is on and fully functioning- meaning, she doesn’t have to worry about overloading damaged components. She activates a couple of rift scanners she’d spent much of the last week patching together- and lights off that semifancy be-a-native system, among others. It’s time for her to get started in retrieving the ship’s largest and most powerful weapons- and given where they’ve landed, simply feeding power and recalling them isn’t likely to do very well. Especially since, if the computer simulation is correct, one of them has landed on or near a small town, point down. Unless she wants to risk killing a large number of natives, she’ll have to make sure the missile’s sublight drive zone is clear before she orders the recall.
A second of thought later, and she decides to make similar checks on the others; one never knows what kind of adventurers might come to start looking at the intergalactic weapons of mass destruction, and it wouldn’t do to kill off any possible native versions of Indiana Jones. The party that the scorpion thing had been attacking has demonstrated sapience, after all.
She watches as her first new order goes flawlessly, and that party- which had seemed to be similar to Indiana Jones- abandons the effort. Exactly where they disappeared to once they finished cleaning up their camp and left her ships’ rift shield, however, she’s not certain. Even so, it’s nice to know the appropriately-nicknamed ‘invisible wall’ is effective against the locals.
A full week later, she steps her brand-new native body- the genetics for which had been cooked up by hours of computer simulation, rather than being sampled from real natives- out of the rift tunnel. Most people would have been stuck in a stasis chamber so they could project their conscience into this otherwise lifeless body.
Not her, though. Her more powerful- and flexible- mind lets her skip the stasis chamber entirely, operating both forms simultaneously- though it’s still not indefinite, and the ‘native’ form will still die as soon as she disconnects. Nice thing is, the computer had still been able to feed her mind an understanding of how to use her new form- sampled both from computer simulations and from observations of passing natives. So, she trots gently forwards, towards the enormous weapon she sees sticking up into the sky. It looks like it’s nose-down, just like the simulations suggested. Once she checks the drive zone, it should be a simple task to channel it enough power, through her ship’s powerful wireless technologies, for it to leap into the air and return to its docking location.
As she travels, she eventually runs across a dirt path. It appears to be running in the rough direction of the weapon, so she follows it. She’d been lucky she had fine enough scans of the area from her momentary pass overtop to locate an area she’d be unlikely to cause an uproar by her arrival. Unfortunately, the nearest such zone she’d identified has placed her almost ten full kilometers from the missile.
Twilight lets out an audible ugh as she flops back down on her desk. Not one of them had known why, but a week ago, all six had suddenly gotten the urge. Applejack had muttered something about work on the farm, Rainbow about Ponyville’s weather team. For Rarity, it was her boutique; Pinkie just wanted a good party with plenty of ponies. Twilight herself had felt a sudden urgence in taking up her duties as a Princess, from her castle. Fluttershy had been the weirdest. Rather than feeling the need to go somewhere else, she had mentioned a feeling that she simply shouldn’t stay- like something didn’t want her there.
So they had abandoned their investigation, packing up their camp and returning home. Here, she’s been trying to further the investigation from afar, but to no avail. She’s asked Fluttershy about exactly where that feeling had come from, but also to no avail. Apparently, she understood it as clearly as if one of her animal friends had told her, though she knows not what had spoken- nor how she had understood the invisibly wordless message so clearly without activating her magic.
Thus, it’s a complete dead-end. When she sends spells its direction to garnish what she can, they simply disintegrate against that weird, invisible barrier. The one even Discord couldn’t penetrate.
When she considers it, returning home hadn’t been much of a loss; it isn’t like they’d been able to really do anything while they were there. They’d been unable to reach any of the mana-manipulating things they’d seen- though Rainbow had almost gotten off the ground inside the barrier before they left; her determined refusal to stop trying to fly had left her wings blurring like a hummingbird while she hopped slightly, almost floating back down to the ground. After a few days of practicing that, her return to Ponyville had been riddled with Rainbooms and overshots, but she’s recovered from that by now.
So, for the last couple days, she had diverted her investigation to the giant spear that had fallen off of it, landing on the edge of town. They had confirmed, nopony had been hurt; however, the Carousel Boutique had been a total loss. Unlike the main bulk of the thing, this giant spear is susceptible to her power- though it’s still heavy enough even the Elements can’t lift it. It’s also thick enough her scanning spells are having difficulty penetrating its hide, to see the inside- and she hasn’t yet found anything she can pry off, by magic or otherwise.
Though, the construct on its back looks strikingly similar to the things on the main bulk that had been manipulating such massive amounts of mana. She’d tried scanning it too- but as near as she can tell, it’s just a whole bunch of metal back there- though very thick, with some layers somehow impervious to her scans. At least those layers aren’t unbroken. She can’t shake the feeling she’s only seeing the tip of the iceberg, though- like all those layers of metal are supposed to do something.
She yelps audibly when she feels it. The feeling is weak- far weaker than it should be at only ten kilometers, but it’s definitely there. Something is using strange magic, so powerfully contained its signature is nearly undetectable, even with all of the amplification spells she has on her observation room, even with her castle’s natural amplification to that same room. Even with all that, it’s still definitely strange. She takes a second to zero in on its position… And almost as soon as she’s done, it disappears completely. She takes off to gather her friends.
Five minutes later, when they teleport to the site, all they find is an empty field. No traces of any abnormal magic can be found- and they end up returning home disappointingly empty-handed.
It’s a nice little town, she decides, pausing on the hill to look it over. Her missile… Yep, like she thought. It seems to have landed on the edge of town, scattering debris onto the streets and destroying a couple of buildings. She can’t tell for sure, but it looks like the natives are keeping a safe distance from the weapon.
At least, what they probably think is a safe distance. It is designed for genocide against a star-faring race. Then again, it hadn’t been charged, or armed, before she ejected it- so a detonation right now would yield only about eighty kilotons. Still, she’d rather not have to deal with a missing country… And be forced to rebuild the missile. So she resumes her walk. She plans to skim around the edge of town; the snippets of language she’d picked up while those six natives had floated around were unfamiliar to her, and not enough for her ship to build a translation matrix.
Suddenly, her path is obstructed by one of the natives- bright pink, with poofy mane and tail. She’s already decided they look distinctly equine- despite the glaring differences, like the ball-and-socket joints in their shoulders. The native yaps something incoherent at her, and she puts on her best confused look. The pink native keeps yapping at her, so she eventually tries a different tactic.
“Sorry,” she finally mutters, during a pause. “I don’t know your… Okay.” The native had stared at her for a second while she spoke, and left a trail of dust as it ran away, before she had even finished talking.
Then, she realizes, she’s figured out where at least one of those six had disappeared to. She resumes her journey, detouring around town- hopefully not through too many backyards- to reach the missile. She’d rather not be arrested just yet; if she is, she’ll just gate back to her ship, dye her mane, tail, and fur, and try again, from a different starting point. She doesn’t know what the local law enforcement looks like, though, hopeful that she won’t have to find out.
That is, assuming they have law enforcement.
Five minutes later, she’s traveled about a quarter of the way around town when the pink native reappears in front of her, yapping more nonsense. A blue, winged one- with windswept rainbow mane and tail, an easily recognizable member of that investigative party- joins the pink one. This blue one seems more confused and bored than the pink one’s exhuberance, sparing a couple of words- possibly a greeting, though the tone suggested an apology- before trying to get the pink one’s attention.
Then, she realizes something important. They’re all girls- so far, at least. Another similarity to equine… So, they’re mares… Just as her ‘native’ form is. Only, they’re probably fertile.
The pink one yaps in response to the blue one, then turns back towards her, yapping incomprehensibly. The blue one appears to facepalm- or, facehoof, I suppose- before trying to get a word in edgewise.
She sighs, looking absently at the bottom of her right forehoof, wondering how painful such an act might be, while she facepalms back aboard ship. She tries stepping around them, but the pink one is adamant- so she sighs, staring at the ground in front of her for a second before she raises her head. “I still can’t understand you,” she states- and takes advantage of the distraction, kicking to a full gallop as soon as the pink mare turns her back.
Interesting, the pink mare has three balloons on her flank; a glance as she blows past at thrice what most natives ought to be able to reach reveals a cloud with a rainbow-colored lightning bolt coming out of it on the blue one’s flank. Her own is blank- she hadn’t seen any of their flanks clearly until now. She finds herself wondering, as she makes tracks away from the two, if it’s specific to them- or if it’s something every native has.
She breaks her gallop fairly quickly, glancing back- the two natives seem to be staring after her- before she turns to resume her trot towards the missile.
Alas, she is interrupted again. This time, she’s much closer to her target- and the interrupting native is wearing armor and holding a spear. This one also sounds male.
However unintelligible his words might be, his body language is the opposite. She sees immediately that he’s a guard, with the intent to stop her. So, the natives do have law enforcement. She stops, looking at him; he makes a statement, but she fails to understand.
“Do you have a translator?” she asks.
At this, the guard scowls disappointedly, looking down at his spear for a second. After a glance to the side, he then makes to use sign language, using his spear to help him. Holds it horizontally, like a fence, before driving the tip- momentarily- into the ground. Into a quite visible line that had been drawn on the ground, actually- her eyes follow it around, where it holds the same distance from the weapon all around. She’d been about to cross it when he stopped her.
She smiles at him, nodding her understanding, and backs away, turning to trot around the missile, staying outside the line. The guard eyes her for a few seconds and, apparently satisfied he’d delivered the message, turns to head his own way, also along the line. He’s not the only one maintaining guard.
This would certainly explain the unpopulated circle she’d noticed before. They’ve clearly got an eye out for safety- and, unless she misses her guess, their line is well outside the missile’s sublight drive zone. Makes sense, given how tall it is. She proceeds to the other side, just to make sure; the sublight drive zone sticks out on both sides of the weapon.
She just reaches the other side of the missile before another interruption appears. This time, it’s a purple native, bearing both wings and horn. The one that had seemed to guide the expedition party. She lets out a soft sigh as, just like her friends, she starts yapping in incomprehensibilities. Eventually, though, this purple mare pauses- it seems she just asked a question, and is expecting an answer.
“Sorry, I didn’t get that,” she states- and turns her head slightly to check the drive zone. All clear- so, back aboard ship, her fingers strike in the command.
The purple mare sighs, facehoofing just like her rainbow-maned friend, and mumbles something more, turning to watch something approach. She looks too- and spots a yellow native, bearing a pink mane and wings, flying over. This one lands some distance away, appearing to hide behind her own mane as she walks slowly up to her purple friend.
Only, she never gets there. The yellow mare is only about halfway to her destination when the purple one lets out an ear-curdling scream, leaping into the air and away from the missile. Interesting, she decides- she’d reacted like that at the very moment the rift bridge was successfully formed, initiating the energy transfer to the weapon- and kicking off the missile’s own rift engine. That engine can boot in a matter of seconds- though it is nowhere near as powerful as her ships’ engines, only designed to offer the missile the ability to navigate through rift space to its target. She winces at the scream, noting how the yellow mare leaped backwards as well, apparently alarmed by the scream rather than the activation of the rift engine, and looks up at the missile.
Lights have flicked on all along the length of the weapon, illuminating the shadow-laiden side of it in an eerie yellow-red glow while the low hum of the missile’s countergrav-based sublight drive kicks on. She hears some screaming around, sees guards running everywhere- away from the missile, that is. One of them pauses to usher her away, but she stands her ground, watching the missile rise fluidly from its tomb with hardly a rumble. The guard that had been pushing on her stops as he turns to stare up at the weapon. Finally, the tip clears the ground and the missile rotates in midair, swinging up to point towards her ship as it accelerates in that direction.
Satisfied, she turns away from the guard, dropping open a rift gateway back to her ship, and steps through it- though she’s not so certain that tumbling is stepping, per se. The purple native reacted fast enough, it seems, to grab onto her and tumble through the gate with her- though not fast enough to accomplish what seems to have been her goal, preventing her from going through it in the first place. Good thing the technology doesn’t care how clumsy you are; these gates are completely safe regardless. The gate closes silently behind them as they tumble to a stop on the empty transporter deck.
Well, she thinks, perhaps now I can get enough samples for that translation matrix?
Eighteen decks away, on the bridge, her fingers flit across a panel- and all the doors out lock shut. A fresh rift gate also appears on the platform, linking back to the grassy field she’d first come out on; translation matrix or not, she will not play prisoner.
“I’m certain there was something here!” Twilight declares. “I felt it from my observation room!”
“I’m not doubtin’ ya,” Applejack answers. “Whoever did it, though, must have moved on by now.”
Rainbow lands unexpectedly. “So, do we happen to be looking for a brownish earth pony with-”
“No earth pony could have done this!” Twilight states. “It felt like really high-level magic- so high even alicorns would have trouble with it!”
Rainbow launches into the air again, scowling as she goes, and muttering under her breath. “With a brown mane and no cutie mark.” She knows as well as any that a grown pony with no cutie mark is physically impossible; foals simply stop growing at a certain age, until they get their marks, at which point they continue their growth cycle.
“Could it have been Discord?” Fluttershy asks, after watching Rainbow race off.
Twilight shakes her head. “I’m sure he could use higher-level magic than alicorns can, but he doesn’t. He usually sticks to pouring massive amounts of power into low-level spells- and even he can’t completely erase the traces of his magic.”
“Are you sure you felt something here?” Rarity asks.
Twilight sighs, hanging her head. “Yes, but further search will probably be fruitless. It did disappear quickly.” The mares share a look, before turning to head back towards Ponyville at their various paces.
Some minutes later, Pinkie Pie spots a brownish earth pony walking towards town. She stares from her position in town for half a second- nope, not somepony she recognizes. This must be the somepony new her Pinkie Sense had been going off about when Twilight showed up about that magic thingy! She races forwards, stopping in front of the new pony. “Hello, my name is Pinkie Pie and welcome to Ponyville! Are you coming to stay or just passing through?” The pony looks confused, though- but Pinkie Pie is not one to give up easily. “Welcome to Ponyville,” she repeats. “My name is Pinkie Pie. Are you moving here or something?”
Her response is something unintelligible… Idea! She races off to fetch Rainbow Dash. Maybe she can understand it? Rainbow does have a griffin friend Gilda, after all…
When she gets back, with Rainbow in tow, the new pony has already left. Only, when Pinkie glances around, she realizes the new pony has only started trotting around town. Weird. Anyways, she drags Rainbow over.
“Pinkie- ugh…” Rainbow groans, following the overexcited party pony again. Looks like her target is the unfortunate brown mare she’d noticed earlier… Yep, no cutie mark. Probably a poorly-done dye job- makes her wonder what this pony’s natural color is.
“There you are!” Pinkie yaps, straight into the new mare’s face. “Why did you run away?”
Rainbow sighs. “Sorry about her,” she states to the new mare, before turning on Pinkie. “So why did you drag me out here? She looks pretty boring to me.”
Pinkie turns on her. “She doesn’t speak Equestrian- maybe you can understand her!” The party pony then whirls back on the wordless mare.
Rainbow facehooves. “You do know Fluttershy is the one that can understand everypony, right?” Pinkie ignores her, yapping incomprehensibly- even to Rainbow, who knows the language she’s using- at the new pony, who appears to be trying to get around them.
Finally, the new pony says something- exactly as Rainbow expected, she doesn’t understand a word of it. Pinkie rounds on her- probably to ask- and the new pony takes off like a missile.
Rainbow stares after her. Not only did she just run way fast, but she had left a small shockwave behind her, as if she had kicked off of the air to do so. What’s more, Rainbow had felt no magic… And even a unicorn couldn’t have kicked off of empty air. The mare zips away, rivalling Pinkie’s best speed, for only a few seconds before she stops to glance back at them- Pinkie has joined Rainbow in staring at this point- and resume her journey. Rainbow then estimates the path- and realizes where she’s headed to. While Pinkie whistles off to Sugarcube Corner, Rainbow makes tracks- and very nearly a rainboom- to Twilight.
Here, she informs Twilight there’s a strange mare with no cutie mark and a language she doesn’t know headed for the spear, before she heads off to get Fluttershy, to act as translator. Fluttershy can understand anything, be it animals… Or even a language she doesn’t speak. They’ll be able to hear what the new mare is saying, even if they won’t be able to be understood in return.
Upon hearing of this new mare and what she’s doing, Twilight decides she might know something about the giant spear. After confirming Rainbow’s intention to fetch Fluttershy, she takes off to find this new mare.
That mare sure moved fast. Almost as soon as Twilight arrives, a guard reports the appearance of a mare- same description, including the language barrier- that had almost crossed the line, but had seemed to understand his instruction. The brownish mare has also set off on a circle around the giant spear, staying outside the line. Twilight sets off the other way around it, racing the wind- and spots the strange mare, dropping herself onto the ground some distance ahead. “Hello!” she begins. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, and you’ve got to be the first pony that’s not bowed since my coronation! Anyways, this thing landed here not too long ago- do you happen to know anything about it?”
The brown mare mutters something incomprehensible and looks towards the giant spear.
Twilight facehooves. Exactly as Rainbow said. Whatever- Fluttershy is coming. She turns to watch her shy friend’s approach- and notices, in her peripheral vision, that the brown mare is also looking.
Fluttershy lands gently, covering herself from the new mare as she approaches. But, Twilight realizes only a moment too late, the conversation won’t be nearly as peaceful as expected.
Power. Oh Celestia, the power! It surged up way too close all of the sudden, going from nothing to far too much for her to stabilize properly in less than a quarter of a second. Twilight screams in combined fright and surprise, leaping away from the source- which, she realizes a moment later, is the spear. Many points along it have started glowing, and a hum has begun. The power continues to build, though- and she notices something like a weak version of the roll they’d seen on the big thing developing on the back of the spear.
So… those layers of metal are a spellcasting device? Wow. The spear then slides out of the ground, slowly at first, but it accelerates, with no magic aura at all. In fact, the magic doesn’t seem to be employed in moving it! It finally clears the hole, swiveling to point away from Canterlot as it begins moving that way. Twilight looks back down at the brown mare, where she is turning away from the guard… Wait, is that a gateway? She races down, breaking her own speed record, in an attempt to stop the mare. Gateways are incredibly dangerous- so bad, in fact, there’s only one known successful invocation of one that didn’t result in whatever passed through it being shredded- and that by Starswirl himself.
She’s too late, though. She also overshoots herself- and ends up only managing to tumble them both through… She survived. However, she’s not sure if that’s a good thing; her chest feels like it’s on fire. As she works her way out from the crumpled heap, she notices the gate has disappeared again… Wait. It just reappeared- and she sees a grassy field beyond it. She’s tempted to rush for it, get through it- but it’s a gateway. Those things are notoriously unstable. She stumbles to her hooves- well, three of them. Her right forehoof she holds against her chest, where her heart feels like it’s trying to rip itself out.
The brown mare stands upright, shakes herself out, and turns towards her, beginning to say something- and cutting off suddenly, turning to gallop for something on the wall as the gateway disappears just as quickly as it had come. The earth pony stops at that wall for a second- and gallops back, a cup of something floating in the air next to her. No magic aura, just… She’s not sure what that platform it’s on is, but she seems to be manipulating it almost like Twilight might manipulate her own magic. She offers the cup to her, motioning for her to drink.
Twilight sits down, rubbing her chest- the pain is getting worse- and looks at the brown mare inquisitively. She moves the cup- weird smelling stuff- right up to her head, again making a motion as if drinking… Though Twilight notices the undertone of urgence this time.
Twilight raises her left forehoof to take the cup- her horn isn’t responding. Only, she can’t seem to grasp it with that either. Reluctantly, at the brown mare’s continued urging, she applies her right forehoof to it to, praying that the gateway hadn’t somehow damaged her magic. She empties the cup in a single swallow. For all its weird smell, it’s completely flavorless… and suddenly, her insides feel like they’re on fire. The brown mare watches concernedly as she doubles up with the pain, but seems to relax, even as it gets worse, settling herself down on the floor.
Then… The pain just fades away, to nothing. It takes the fire in her heart with it- and her horn begins to tingle. Had that been some unpleasant medicine for something that gateway did to her? Why hasn’t the brown mare taken any?
Eventually, Twilight finishes articulating her jaw wordlessly up and down. “What was that?” She finally asks.
The brown mare looks at her with a politely inquisitive expression, saying something she can’t understand- maybe a question? Rainbow was right, though- Fluttershy might understand, but she doesn’t stand a chance.
She hangs her head. “You probably don’t understand a thing I’m saying, do you?”
Another polite expression, showing some confusion, along with some worry.
Worry? Twilight immediately sets about calming that worry… or getting distracted in the process. Within seconds, she’s managed to forget all about the mystery pony as she examines and pokes at everything in the room- all weird stuff she hasn’t a clue what is. She even manages to forget that her magic won’t work.
Wait! Was that a magic surge she just felt, ever so momentary?
She watches calmly as the native recovers. The native had experienced gate shear. Rift gates are incredibly stable- yet incredibly dangerous at the same time. Anything living that passes through will invariably be segregated from its soul. Her auxiliary form is immune to this effect, simply by being an auxiliary form- it doesn’t have a soul in the first place. The good news is that the effect takes time to manifest- and is fully curable, up until the affected entity dies, often between thirty seconds and a minute after the event. It so happens she’s never experienced it before, but everyone that has described it as a burning pain in their chest. Of course, the antidote is reportedly as painful as it is fragrant, until it does its job- after which it’s just as painless as it is flavorless.
The purple native stares at her for several minutes, jaw opening and closing somewhat erratically as she attempts to make sense of the situation. This she finds amusing- she’s probably trying to decide exactly what just happened, and possibly wondering why she didn’t consume any antidote herself.
Finally, some words are spoken. She doesn’t understand them at all- and a fleet-fingered glance at the control panel indicates her computer doesn’t either.
“Did you want to go back home?” she asks.
More words neither she nor her computer understand, accompanied by a hung head- presumably related to an acknowledgement of the language barrier. She begins to worry- this native is probably going to panic soon, once she realizes where they are.
Only, she watches as a flash of worry crosses the purple face- replaced almost instantly by curiosity as it casts around the room. So, she’s gotten a curious native. Might be helpful. Then again, now that she’s distracted, she’s far less likely to notice sensor scans- and orders one done. She’d noticed before that some native creatures seemed to manipulate rift energy in some manner or another- that giant scorpion so long ago had been a prime example. So, while the native in her transporter room examines the (locked) control panel, her ship’s rift sensors perform a high-fidelity scan. Perhaps, if she can read their weird links to rift space, she can tune her rift shield to avoid interfering with them?
While the scan runs, she reviews the footage of her arrival back aboard ship. Her computers had faithfully analyzed it for all important details, presenting them to her in bulleted form, almost immediately upon passing through- but now, watching the video, she notices something her computer had missed. The look of fear, of terror, on the native’s face before they passed through the gate.
Like the native understood the dangers of the gate, and didn’t know she was using an auxiliary form.
Then and there, she decides not to make a general allowance for their weird links within her ship’s defensive fields; there’s a reason they exist, and it’s not to be turned off. However… She runs the footage taken from the investigative party’s departure from the edge of the shield. There had been a bright flash, a surge of rift energy- and they had disappeared. Rift sensors had not shown any penetration into rift space- and had not recognized the signature.
If she assumes that was some sort of short-range remote teleportation ability, much like her ship has (though it’s instantly lethal to everything living, including auxiliary forms)... She can tune the shields to allow that, specifically on the transporter pads. They can already be tuned to allow other ships to send in components in those specific spots with the touch of a button- so that shouldn’t be hard. She’ll just have to find out if this purple native has this ability- and if so, convince her to use it… Preferably on something inanimate, like…
Oh, that’s easy. Like the styrofoam cup she drank the antidote from. The tuning of the shield for another ship’s (or station’s) transporters can have adverse effects on the first jump- usually resulting in the complete destruction of whatever was transported. As such, there are-
Right! There are procedures- during the tuning, standard procedure is to transport the water in a pitcher in one ship to a bucket in the other! So happens she has almost eighty such pitchers floating around- and dozens of buckets… And, with that H2O tap extended, effectively limitless water. The main benefit of water is its utter harmlessness if it is destroyed- or more accurately, torn into thousands of unmoving fragments, usually spread over a 15% greater volume than intended, but on the intended position. The worst that had ever happened in recorded history was that the waterproof surface of the transporter pad got wet.
So, her fingers fly, punching orders into the computer. If this native is capable of that, and she can tune it properly, she could give the native an escape route! What’s more, if she pulls it off right, the native will know she can escape! … Though only from the pad. Minor detail.
A few more strokes on the control panel later, the Rift Engine spins up a touch, feeding the additional Rift energy into the transporters- which power on to transport in the required materials, leaving them on the pad.
Twilight, after exhausting the limits of her imagination on what this panel with a light breeze coming out of its many holes could be used for, finally notices the addition of something new in the room. There! The circular… things, where the gate had been… Right. The gate. She glances momentarily around the room; the strange mare- still not having had any of that potion- is starting towards those circular things. So, she refocuses.
She doesn’t remember that bucket being there. She’s pretty sure the pitcher is also new- and the water she watches appear in it is definitely new.
Only, she doesn’t feel any magic happening. But wait! This tingle in her horn feels almost like a wall between her and her power. Perhaps that wall is also preventing her from feeling nearby spells? Hmm… Maybe that circle thing is a hole in that wall? She bounds over, pausing just outside the ring, and sticks her horn in.
She can feel when it crosses the barrier. On that ring, the wall isn’t as solid- it’s more like a fence. A pretty solid fence, but still a fence. She steps all the way onto it, powering her horn- which stutters a little, but smooths to a steady glow. She then focuses on what is perhaps the most important part- teleportation. Enough of her mind is still processing enough priorities to inform her she needs to verify her escape route before she continues exploring. Though, she admits, she was probably reminded by the evident teleportation of that water in. Except, simple teleportation isn’t what she’s worried about- more importantly, she’s worried about teleportation all the way back to the Castle of Friendship. That should be well within her abilities… Huh? It’s letting her spell get through- but for some reason, the Castle of Friendship is a lot further away than it ought to be.
She powers the spell anyways, though- and, four seconds later, finds herself in her throne room, completely exhausted. She rises to her hooves, glances around- and sighs. She hadn’t been able to save that strange mare- but, on second thought, that mare had seemed at home there. Perhaps that’s where she lived…? But that doesn’t explain the gateway- she wasn’t a unicorn! Unless somepony else was opening it for her… Either way, she’d opened it- and stepped through it- like she does it every day. Maybe… She locates a piece of parchment and a quill, and starts drafting a letter. It’s prohibitively difficult for her to teleport all that distance herself- but a letter is far easier. As a matter of fact, in a few minutes, she will have recovered enough to send it over! Given how everyday that mare had treated the gateway, perhaps they can meet in her castle, make friends, and use the gate to return to that… room?
She finishes her draft, strikes out a few words and sentences, rewrites some others. Then she pulls out a fresh sheet and makes a second draft. This letter will be perfect in every way, and nopony will prevent that. While she works, she drafts a letter to Princess Celestia, neglects to subject it to such studious re-review, stamps it, and sends it to Spike. She used to be amused by how it would float through the air, doors opening and closing for it, to wherever he happens to be; now, she ignores it, focused on editing her welcome letter- and invitation. She’s tempted to separate the two, or to invite Pinkie to help- but no, that wouldn’t be helpful. She’s a Princess, making it her duty to invite this foreign pony! Pinkie… She’d have to tell her. Her quill makes a mistake- but this isn’t even her second-to-final draft yet, so she corrects it instantly.
She’d have to tell Pinkie at some point, and Pinkie would throw a party. She simply can’t stop that from happening- both physically, and as a friend. Besides, Pinkie’s parties are fun- but if there’s one thing that should happen before the party, that’s getting to know the pony a bit… Enough to know what kind of party would be best, at least- no, wait! At least enough to understand the pony. To cross the language barrier. THEN a party becomes reasonable! But, should she keep the meetings secret from Pinkie Pie, or try to convince her of that…?
She spends a minute considering, rereads her latest draft, and makes her decision: Find out which one the new pony would prefer. Adding this question to the letter only takes a minute before she edits the draft, correcting mistakes, rewording sentences, paragraphs. Finally, she moves on to make her next draft.
Almost a full hour later, she finally sends the letter- took a lot more power than she’d predicted when she started- right before Spike steps in, carrying one from Princess Celestia.
“Afternoon, Spike,” she greets.
He nods. “You too, Twilight. The Princess sent a reply.” He offers her the scroll.
She nods. “Let’s hear it, then.”
He pops the seal, opens the scroll, and clears his throat. “Dear Princess Twilight,” he begins.
Two minutes later, he finishes off the letter, and Twilight’s head can be found on the Cutie Map, her forehooves above her horn. She’d told Celestia about the mystery pony and its weird home, but hadn’t connected it to the thing resting on the South Luna Ocean. Celestia had not outright declared that there was a connection, but she had suggested the possibility. Of course, the language issue is another problem- and she had touched on some of the things she’d mentioned in her letter. As is her way, Celestia had pointed out something Twilight had missed: The futility of writing a letter in the first place. If the new mare can’t speak Equestrian, she almost certainly can’t read it. Bonus, whatever unicorn was teleporting those supplies for her probably doesn’t know where to send a reply, even if they could read it!
Spike turns his head, looking at the stack of parchment next to the Cutie Map. “That the letter?”
Twilight looks at it. “Uhhh…” She teleports it- all of it- away for disposal. “No. That was the drafts.”
Spike sighs- but somepony else had just walked in behind him, in time to witness the stack.
“How many?” Rainbow asks. “Two hundred?”
“... Twelve, actually.”
“Egghead!”
She’s relaxing in a beach chair, on the roof of the Observation Deck at the back of her ship- the highest point, as a matter of fact. She might have been worried about the native teleporting herself first, instead of testing with the water- except that, unlike most technology-based teleporters, the native had the sense to wait until it had a firm grasp of the tunnel- meaning, until tuning was complete- before actually performing the jump. She should have come out the other side completely unharmed- physically, at least. She does hope, once again, that the natives’ teleportation ability isn’t nearly as deadly as her ship’s.
She takes a sip of the drink resting in her chair’s armrest, smiling out at the ocean she’d landed on. Too bad all the beach space contained inside her ship’s defensive barriers is overshadowed by the ship itself.
Either way, she’s satisfied with her ship’s repair state; her fusion plants are online once again, though the rift reactor continues to supply the ship with all her power needs. If need be, her ship is fully capable of traveling amongst the stars- even self-defense. Enough sensors are online nothing can sneak up from any angle; most of her shields are back online (though most are on standby), and she’s got at least a few of each weapon functional. She’s even recalled one of the giant Starcracker missiles; watching that reattach itself had been a fairly amusing show. All of her warp engines are working, and the second of the two main Rift Engines launched into its startup procedure just fifteen minutes ago.
She takes another sip of her hot chocolate… Hmm, it’s getting cold. She swirls it for a second, tapping the mug with her pinkie, and takes another sip- oh yes, that’s the ticket.
She smiles gently now, gazing down at the point where her ship’s shields meet the uninterrupted water. She would have picked a beach further from her ship, except she’s not entirely certain how the local rift fields would react to her presence- or vice versa. She’d figured out why the rift reactor works here; the Rift Wall, normally sturdy enough a rift engine is required to pierce it, is thin here. Rift energy seems to seep through it, encapsulating the entire planet in a cloud of energy. Normally, this gradual seep would build up to unmanageable levels and, after about five hundred years, result in the planet’s destruction. However, it would seem that problem was solved.
Another sip of her drink- and now, the cup’s getting pretty close to empty. A tap on the tablet control panel next to her other hand, though, orders an instant refill through the transporters.
Whenever rift energy crosses the barrier into N-space, it simply must be tuned, else it will instantly disappear, scattering across the universe. As such, whenever these seeps occur, the energy tunes itself. The particular tuning it does is unique to the location; it is extremely rare for the collected energy to be harmless.
Thus, of course, this world is a one-of-a-kind, as far as she’s aware of. Not only is the seeping energy tuned in such a manner as to be harmless, but it appears to magnify the speed at which the locals heal- making it beneficial. Bonus, the natives have found their own solution to the oversaturation problem. It would seem that they- sentients and monsters alike- have adapted some manner of rift energy manipulation. Most of them seem only to use it for self-healing, but she’s seen some weaponize it- and those sentient ones seem to be the most advanced, what with that teleportation ability. What’s more, whenever they use it, the particular energy they use is, once it completes its task, vented back into rift space- exactly what her ship is doing.
A beep from the tablet draws her attention, and she lifts it up as she takes another sip… Cold again. Another swirl and another tap of her pinkie finger fixes that for this cup, while a couple touches on her tablet’s sidebar fixes it for future cups.
Finally, she reviews the alert that had come through. It’s a fairly standard inbound teleport penetration notice, on the pad; if it were elsewhere, the internal defences might have kicked in. A tap shows a camera view of the arrival… A stack of pages, but no natives. Interesting. Another sip, and she puts the cup down for a minute, passing orders to her ship. Each page is to be scanned on both sides, and analyzed for written language; once this is done, the pages are to be stowed in a dry stasis capsule. They might be important, after all.
Orders passed, she sets the tablet down and returns to her drink… Cold again. More swirling, more tapping. She’s very specific about what temperature she likes it.
A half cup later, the pling comes again- but it’s a different tone, indicating a task complete. She raises the tablet, lifts an eyebrow, and sets her mug down, after another sip. She strikes a few controls before she stands up, leaping off the edge as her chair, drink, and tablet are teleported back inside.
It’s the morning after Twilight sent her letter, she’s waiting in the throne room. They’d planned to meet here again today, to discuss the next step of their investigation. And, by the sound of it, they’re getting here. She opens the door for them.
Rainbow is first in the door, with Applejack and Pinkie right behind her. “Hey Twi-!”
All four- now six- ponies in the room freeze. The air is glowing, right in front of Rainbow- and right where Twilight had arrived the previous day, after her strange adventure. It doesn’t glow for long.
In a momentary blaze of light, a thick book appears in midair, dropping solidly to the floor. Rainbow looks down at it. “What-?” she asks, cutting off as she stares at it.
Rarity, at the wrong angle to read the title, instead comments on the ribbon tying it shut. “That’s a beautiful ribbon,” she smiles. “Where’d you get that?”
Twilight hops off her throne, trotting towards them as Rainbow mouths something.
“What?” Applejack asks, also at the wrong angle. “Is it a new Daring Do novel?”
Rainbow shakes her head, recovering. “Nah, just the egghead got an egghead’s letter.”
“Oh?” Pinkie asks, bouncing up and down. “Somepony sent her a book? What’s it called?”
Rainbow looks back up at Twilight, and down at the book, where she reads the cover directly.
“A Letter to one Twilight Sparkle, from Aria Vioda, Starship Athena, Commanding.” She looks back up at a now open-mouthed Twilight. “Who…?”
It takes Twilight three days to read her book-letter. Not only does it have around ten times as many pages as any book its thickness has a right to have with parchment far cleaner than any she’s seen before, but the writing is far smaller than the finest hoofwriting she’s ever seen- yet still perfectly legible. She’d spent almost two hours marvelling at the pages and the text, until she got to reading the first page- and realizing the book itself is discussed in section eighteen.
Of course, Celestia had been informed. Both the older Princesses had been surprised to find that not only had that brown mare understood Twilight’s hornwriting, but she had also been able to write this entire book in response to Twilight’s letter in under a day!
Then, of course, Twilight has realized why sixteen of the forty-two sections are missing from that initial table of contents. The first of these, as section three, had rambled on for three pages about why she had used the term ‘sections’ instead of ‘chapters’. The second, section six, had rambled for six pages on what makes a good quill. Even Twilight had been bored by that.
The last, as section forty-one, had bumbled away almost a hundred pages about the importance of a concise message, as opposed to the eighty-three pages of rambling Twilight had originally sent. She’d almost fallen asleep by the time she finished. Twilight found the final section, forty-two, to be the most important one. It was also quite wordy, but the message contained was clear.
Firstly, that brown mare- ‘Aria’- would like a party. However, while she’s been able to figure out the written language from Twilight’s letter- a fact that raises Twilight’s eyebrows- she still knows next to nothing of the spoken language. Supposedly, that problem should be solved- completely and permanently- within a few minutes of the start of the party.
Second, the use of the gate to return to her ‘ship’- Twilight’s not so sure that description fits- is completely off-limits. Apparently, she’s the only pony that can safely pass through those gates; for all others, it’s very dangerous. She does note- across two pages- exactly how lucky Twilight is to have survived the gate at all, let alone long enough to take the cure.
Third, Aria isn’t from this world- and, as a result, Equestrian magic is new to her. She’s interested to know exactly how it might interact with her whenever she wanders beyond her ship’s protective barriers without an auxiliary… which she says her ‘brown mare form’ is. Apparently, this ‘auxiliary’ is just a body, with no soul- rather, the life is projected into it from elsewhere. This does not make it a zombie, though, as the life- and conscience- controlling it is a real, live entity. By the description, this ‘auxiliary’ lets her be in two places at once without time travel. So magic can’t be channeled through the auxiliary- so what? It had taken Twilight a few hours to drag her mind back down from the clouds. Magic or not, if she had one of those ‘auxiliary’ forms, she could study twice as hard- or, study just as hard all day long and also spend the day having fun- or going on adventures- with her friends.
To her surprise, Princess Celestia expressed an interest in that kind of ability as well- though, only if the second form could also use magic, even if only by channelling her normal power. Celestia and Luna had both declined to answer why they’re interested.
So, Twilight had started on her response. She’d set herself a one-page limit for this one, after that incredibly long-winded reply; clearly, she’d met somepony that could out-ramble her… And let on absolutely nothing in the process. So, if she keeps her next letter concise, perhaps she won’t get quite so ramble-y of a response?
It’s not going very well- the stack of discarded single-page drafts next to her is already taller than her throne.
She snaps the book shut, letting out a hearty laugh as she does so, before taking a sip of her… cold chocolate. A momentary swirl, with the tap of her pinkie finger, fixes that, before she checks the control panel next to her.
The weather’s nice out today- so she’s stationed atop the Observation Deck once again. She’s spent much of her time through this last week reading her own response to that Twilight Sparkle’s letter. It had taken her close to four hours to read the translated letter; much of it had turned out to be rambling nonsense, but she’d ordered it saved anyways; no telling what info her ship’s powerful computers might be able to pull out of it, especially when correlated with future streams of rambling. Writing the response had taken hardly fifteen minutes; she had only to jot down a few notes on what she wanted it to contain and what general pattern she wanted, then those same computers became the Rambler Supreme for her. Honestly, she never knew one could talk so long on why magic is called magic without repeating themselves- or saying anything at all!
Her check of the control panel comes up empty- no response has come up yet. Now that she’s read her own letter, the main message- that rambling is boring- is way obvious. Maybe she did it too much…? It’s also possible the ponies are taking their time reading it. They clearly hadn’t realized one thing- that ribbon that tied it shut, made of woven steel, had carried her entire letter, in concise form, in some fancy cursive Equestrian. In terms of readability, it’s pretty good- though one has to look closely to realize it’s not a decorative pattern but actually words. It had taken only six sentences, on that- and much of that was spent clarifying what in Equestria an ‘auxiliary’ is.
She is looking forward to, whenever the reply comes, meeting this ‘Pinkie Pie’ mare. Though, Twilight had mentioned her gate had been detected; something about a ‘thaumic flow’, too hyper-controlled to be anything except top-level spellwork. Makes sense- with the way her ship tunes rift energy, it is extremely destructive, if not contained. As such, in its systems, containment- and safety- are of paramount importance. That attention to containment could easily have been mistaken for an expert spellcaster.
So, she contemplates- what next? A couple taps on that tablet activates another auxiliary form. She’s now got a few dozen of them, waiting in their stasis tubes, all to match her initial ‘brown mare’ appearance. This one, she trots down to one of the main bays, hopping into a small stealth aircraft. The invisibility it demonstrates is imperfect; much like many game ‘cloak’ effects, if one looks closely, they can still see the ripple as it moves- and, even, the shape. When it crosses between someone and what they’re looking at, they may notice the loss of focus. Nevermind that this optical projection camouflage tends to break down with too many viewpoints, and is useless against viewers it can’t see. It should be enough to get her down near Ponyville, outside the prying eye, without that betraying thaumic emission. An alert pony- or party of ponies- would likely still see it; however, with good routing…
While the vehicle blasts its way out the open bay, crossing the barriers into Equestria without a care in the world, her chocolate mug earns itself a refill. Perhaps she should try testing her magic compatability before she hears back from Twilight? It’s not like she would- or, really, could- suggest anything different.
She lets out a sigh as she opens the canopy. She’d known she’d be seen at some point on her way; she hadn’t expected it to be by an entire squadron of flying natives… that had very quickly surrounded her as she approached the top of the mountain where the other dangerously-positioned Starcracker missile is resting. She waits until the canopy finishes retracting, the stealth auto-disabling, before trying to interact with them.
“Did you need something?” she asks the armor-wearing natives… Probably related, in profession at least, to the one that had been helping maintain a safety perimeter around the first weapon.
They share a look, and say something she doesn’t understand. She confirms; her computer doesn’t either.
“I still don’t understand you,” she states.
None of them seem to understand, but they do seem to get the idea- and start gesticulating. As near as she can tell, they want her to land… near the missile. She glances towards the drive zone as she goes… Nope, it’s not clear. There’s ponies practically swarming the side of the weapon, all in a prime position to be killed by its sublight drive. She flies her craft down, as indicated- and as much as they seem to want her to move faster, she won’t. It wouldn’t be safe; even a small aircraft like this has rather large danger zones around the engines… that grow by an order of magnitude when it accelerates. At least the natives should be able to see these whirling dangers while the stealth is disabled- but they could very easily miss how the danger zones change when it moves.
They seem to want her to land- but the ground isn’t flat enough for that. She instead climbs out, jumping down to the ground. The canopy closes behind her, the craft floating in place on autopilot. She looks up at them.
Most of them land around her, and guide her down the length of the weapon… Uphill, towards the center.
Then they stop, and bow towards a particularly large native… White, this one. With a crown.
She bows as well.
She hears the white one say something- and her escorts rise…
Back in her ship, she scrambles for her tablet, punching in some hurried commands. She just lost connection with her auxiliary in the middle of meeting what she suspects is royalty! … She reads the diagnostic message on the connection failure. Connection was disrupted by an outside source; reconnection attempt was made, but failed. Auxiliary has been lost.
She sighs, and switches to live video. Her escorts seem to be in somewhat of a panic, trying to figure out why her auxiliary randomly collapsed in front of their ruler… While the aforementioned ruler is wearing an expression of outright shock. A touch on the recorded video… Ahh, yes. She’d lost connection- resulting in the collapse- a second after the ruler’s horn started glowing. She hopes she hasn’t terrified the ruler, and touches the recall order for that little craft.
Princess Celestia stares slack-jawed as her Guards try to save Equestria’s latest visitor’s life. She hears it’s not working… At all. The nearest medic- a unicorn- has finished his diagnostic and already declared her to be, apparently, in perfectly good health, physically. Just… shutting down.
She knows of a couple spells that could have that effect on somepony. That could sever their soul from their body. Dark arts not taught anymore; she’s made certain of that.
She didn’t know a standard translation spell was one of them.
They’re in the middle of carrying the body away when her visitors’ strange flying contraption suddenly twists in midair, throwing itself upwards before accelerating away with a blast of sound- and air.
She then stops herself. Twilight had said something about those ‘auxiliaries’ not being truly connected to the controlling soul, hadn’t she? Had her translation spell been enough to break whatever tenuous connection they use?
She hopes that’s the case. She really hopes she doesn’t have to ban a translation spell as lethal.
This one, the Guards didn’t dare get close. They’re all pegasi; they could feel the truly immense wind currents whirling around each of the four strange things holding it up, unlike the two little, strange things that held the last one up.
And one doesn’t have to be a pegasus to see the way the foliage is rippling away from it, fully three hundred feet below. Or, for that matter, the heat waves in the air beneath it, despite the hint of snow in the air.
This doesn’t even count, as it gets close to the investigation site, how the unicorns tried scanning it- and reported that their spells seemed to be simply bouncing off.
Of course, Celestia was alerted- though, she was already on her way. Unlike the last one, this one made no effort to hide its approach, though it did approach from the far side of the mountain as Canterlot, keeping its approach hidden from most of the residents therein.
Princess Celestia and her Guards watch as it nears the angled terrain next to the giant spear. Whereas that smaller one might have been able to perch itself on one of the flatter spots, as they’d expected it to do, this thing is simply too big for that- so they expect it to just hover, like the first did.
However, to their utmost horror, it doesn’t seem content with their expectations. After taking a hover some three pony-heights above the ground, some kind of beam shoots down from the bottom of it- and the ground moves. Mere moments later, when the beam disappears, a rectangular patch of ground at least twice the size of the machine and directly below it is perfectly flat- and level, to boot. Additionally, the truly massive mana surge that beam brought has simply disappeared- completely tracelessly.
Not that the unicorns have stopped screaming.
As a matter of fact, the only pony left on the peak that happened to be both in possession of a horn and not screaming her head off would be Princess Celestia herself- and even she almost screamed.
The massive flying machine, showing total disregard for the panicked screams, descends smoothly, landing on four legs that emerged from its smooth underside.
Then all the wind dies down to nothing all of the sudden, the four strange things that had been holding it up tilting forwards to a horizontal position. This itself brought more screams- but nopony got sucked in, so those screams disappear fairly quickly.
Then a little door on its side, just a little behind one of the massive lift things, pops open, a staircase unfolding to the ground below, and a brown-coated mare with no cutie mark trots down it. She pauses to bow to Princess Celestia, and says something incomprehensible.
She smiles apologetically at all of the ponies she can see while she trots down the stairs from one of Athena’s combat dropships. She hadn’t wanted to take the outsized assault shuttle to her second meeting with what she hopes will be a friendly head of state; unfortunately, it was the only small craft in any of the bays equipped with its own rift engine. It’s not nearly as powerful as her ship’s engines, though- and, for that matter, reliant upon a live feed from her ship’s rift engine to remain operational.
But regardless, that means this shuttle was the only thing she could bring out here that would be equipped with rift sensors. That it had a terraforming device built-in… Well, had she known it would terrify the natives, she wouldn’t have used it.
She does find it amusing how only the ones with horns seem to be absolutely terrified. The rest just seem more just frightened, as she might have been, had she witnessed the Mark IV High-Speed Rift Terraformer in action without knowing a thing about it ahead of time.
At least the pony she suspects is their ruler isn’t screaming her head off; at least some of the white pony’s attention still seems to be available. As she reaches the bottom of the steps, the shutdown procedure on the shuttle’s atmospheric engines coming smoothly to a stop, she turns to this strange mare and bows, and speaks. “I apologize for the scare,” she begins. “I didn’t know the terraformer would be a terrifier.”
The white mare’s horn glows briefly- and, exactly as she’d expected, she loses connection from her auxiliary, which collapses on the ground.
But this time, not only has she got full sensor scans of the entire event, she’s also got a dozen additional auxiliaries on hand- or is it hoof?- in the stasis pods she’d had crammed into the passenger bay.
So, while her ship analyzes the sensor results and simultaneously battles to reconnect that one auxiliary, she wakes in another one and pops the hatch again. Of course, the stairs had not retracted, so that, at least, is a non-issue.
She hopes to show these ponies that whatever their leader is doing isn’t killing her.
And besides- after just a few seconds of analysis and battling, her ship has been able to stabilize the disabled auxiliary- returning it to the ‘unassigned’ status they have when freshly produced. It won’t survive there for long- only about three hours- without the support built into the ‘auxiliary chambers’ they’re made in, but if she makes physical contact with it, she should be able to wake it right back up again.
Nopony moves.
Most have them have just become witness to an occurrence that nopony is normally privy to.
That is, Princess Celestia herself… cussed.
The strange, brown mare comes trotting out of her strange machine again… even though she’s still lying on the ground. A few ponies move now, looking back and forth between the two. The two mares look exactly identical, all the way down to the missing cutie mark.
The new one casually trots up next to the first, reaching out a hoof to touch it. After a second’s touch, she withdraws her hoof, and bows down to Celestia- while the first wakes back up, returning to do the same.
Most ponies present, including all those in the medical profession and Princess Celestia herself, faint.
The two mares look around, seemingly amused, before one of them trots off to the side someplace, looking up and down the giant spear.
Well, she considers, at least something good actually did come of my noisy approach: The drive zones are clear.