Two months passed with normalcy more or less taking over. The colony was making strong headway in spreading out away from Seed One. Thanks to the griffins being too busy getting themselves established, there was little diplomatic interaction and the distance made physical encounters nonexistent.
Presently, Prism was holding onto Joe’s camera stalk as the rover plowed itself through a hilly forest that seemed to be a battleground between tree sized mushrooms and actual tree analogs. Looking up, Prism saw the mushrooms were being outcompeted for sunlight, the trees with their branches and leaves eclipsing and shoving their way into or over the mushroom caps. However, a few of Joe’s ground scans showed the mushrooms held sway underground with their thinner roots wrapping around the trees’ roots like vamparitic vines.
The oddity of the forest flew in the face of Prism’s expectations, which were admittedly already far looser than when Seed One first arrived. As Joe stopped moving to use a combination of satellite scans and its own sensor suite, Prism used the opportunity to climb off and inspect one of the trees.
She activated her mic to record her observations. “These trees can’t possibly be getting enough nutrition from the soil, so how is it that are they not just alive, but apparently thriving? Are the two species symbiotic?” The mushrooms of Equuis didn’t need sunlight usually, so maybe they aren’t so different here.
What had looked like bark from a distance revealed itself to be caked layers of spongy green substances. “If I didn’t know better I’d say this was algae.” Repositioning her father’s rifle to clear the way, she took a small sample container off her belt. She used the lid to scrape some inside.
“Pathfinder,” Joe called out, “I have selected four locations for road markers.”
"That was quick.” Prism flew back over and snatched four metal stakes with a beacon on top that Joe had extended out of the hull. “You really think making a road all the way out here is necessary this early?”
“I am not programmed to speculate on civic planning, Pathfinder.”
Prism huffed at the AI as she took to the air and made off towards the first waypoint. “Yeah well, why don’t you try to speculate anyway. And no asking Voyager for hints, that’s cheating.”
“I will endeavor to do so, Pathfinder.” Joe otherwise remained silent as Prism placed the markers. The rover was slow to provide an answer, and only spoke up by the time Prism was placing the third marker. ~“To facilitate ground transportation to the watchpost?”~
Prism absently thought about the obvious answer. ~“Not a chance. These are the C4-9 alarion beacons. They can last for a century without maintenance. Besides, we’re two thousand miles away from the colony. There’s no way in hell we’re actually building a road here anytime soon. Try again.”
She imagined the simpler AI would have let off a few electronic warbles of annoyance. ~“I do not see the purpose of involving me when Voyager is more informed or capable of a satisfactory answer.”~
~“Because I’m bored, and I don’t want to give Firefly the satisfaction of winning the bet.”~ As Prism sunk the fourth marker into the loose soil, she spotted a yellow gem just sitting there alone in the dirt.
Precious gems were not uncommon in Equestria, with many places having them so plentiful that ameture splunckers could gather quite a haul. Avalon was a different matter, such gems had yet to be found at all yet. Much to Spike’s chagrin.
So finding what appeared to be a yellow topaz the size of a finger made Prism coo with interest. “Hello, hello, what have we here?” With Prism’s mechanical hand snatching the gem, she had the presence of mind to take it over to Joe. “Hey buddy boy, can you do me a solid and scan this? I think I found a snack for my scaly uncle.”
The rover’s cameras matched Prism’s own assessment of the object being a topaz. However a few sensor scans forced Joe to reevaluate that. “Assessment: this object is of unrecognizable mineral composition.”
“It’s not a topaz?” Prism dropped it out of reflex like it was a hot potato. “Please tell me it’s not radioactive?”
Joe’s scanners followed the deep yellow object as it fell to the ground. “Negative. Unless it is host to some foreign microbe or energy I can not detect, then it appears safe to hold.” Prism sighed in relief and reclaimed the mysterious gem with a much more careful hand. “If it would please you, I may be able to garner more information on it with my internal testing equipment.”
Prism gave the object a few more moments of inspection before shrugging and placing the gem inside a fist-sized hatch the rover had opened for her. “Have at it. But don't think that let’s you off the hook for having a good debate on why we’re here.”
“As you wish, Pathfinder.”
If Prism was a betting mare, she could have sworn she heard something akin to resignation in the AI’s tone. The two of them trudged on towards the next hill of the forest, spending the better part of three hours surveying the place, and collaborating as to where to put the next markers. It was well past dinnertime when Prism decided to end her work for the day, and parked herself underneath one of the countless trees perched near a sheer cliff. With no need for a helmet, Prism took the opportunity to relax on a blanket and nibble on her ration of steamed wolfbeetle, rehydrated vegetables, and instant mix cola. Surprisingly, wolfbeetle tasted a lot like lobster meat.
The panoramic view painted a hilly landscape that had a great many patches of young trees and giant mushrooms illuminated fully by the twin moons. Other cliffs seemingly consisting more of roots than actual stone, but it was hard to tell in the moonlight. In between the six hills she could see from her angle, it was possible to make out the narrow valleys that divided the hills.
Prism furrowed her brow as she munched on her food and realized that the valleys were like long winding rivers of broken stone, with many glittering flakes of yellow from more false-topazes. Given the fact that there were known locations in Equestria where surface gems could be found with ease; the gems were little more than a mild curiosity compared to the existence of the rivers of broken earth. “Could be a geological phenomena, or tunneling critters. Either way, It looks like we might need to rethink our location.”
“Pathfinder,” Joe called out, derailing Prism’s train of thoughts. “Perhaps our task is to place a physical presence along the fringes of our claimed territory to limit potential border friction when the minotaurs arrive.”
She wolfed down her latest bite of hard bread and rolled over to face the impassive rover keeping watch behind the tree. “You cheated for that answer. I told you not to ask Voyager.”
“It is against my programming to violate your orders, Pathfinder,” the rover replied with an irritating lack of emotion. “I merely extended your inquiry towards your colleagues: Pathfinders Firefly, Ruby, and Engineer Silver. After taking the common elements in their responses, I forwarded the results.”
Prism huffed in annoyance and started breaking down her rifle for maintenance to busy herself between bites. “I should have known you'd have no concept of the spirit of the law.” Assuming it was a rhetorical statement, the AI deigned to forgo a response.
It wasn’t too long before Prism had polished off her meal, reassembled her rifle, and cleaned the place up so she could stargaze on her blanket. She had studied the alien stars off and on ever since arriving on Avalon, but only now did she get a real chance to sit back and look at it without a telescope.
With the Pathfinders and a paltry two astronomers in the colony, there were only a few constellations. Mostly due to disagreements between the two groups. Yet between them, they worked out the more functional constellations for navigation instead of painting the night sky in dozens of them.
Prism let her large wings stretch out and just soaked in the warm natural night air. No recycled air, none of the permanent winter of her birth-world, just her and temperate nature. All the stress just bled out of Prism. This is the life. Just me and the unknown. The gentle swaying of leaves in the breeze completed the perfect night.
“Pathfinder,” Joe called out, ruining the peace in the process. “Your vitals indicate you are close to sleep. I strongly suggest you enter your cabin.”
Prism wilted in mild exasperation as Joe anchored his six legs into the ground and unfurled the metal tent underneath him. “Darn it Joe, we haven’t seen anything bigger than a housecat ever since we got in this forest. Just keep the sonic field active and I’ll be fine.”
“As you order, Pathfinder.” The AI kept the tent mode active just in case, but complied by extending a foot long antenna near the camera stock. Prism activated a new feature in the goggles she wore, which granted her a personal display, and created a sonic dampening spell over her ears.
Once the rover AI received confirmation that Prism’s protection was in place, Joe started producing a constant monotone sound that had been proven to scare away everything that had ears. For her part, Prism allowed herself to fall asleep under the rover’s watchful eye with her rifle nearby.
Since it was Twilight’s morning off to spend with Sawbones, Praxia presided in the Command Center going over the latest critical construction project plans with a few civic engineers. Spike watched nearby with an impassive eye. With his soldiers either on quiet patrols or in transit to operation areas, he currently didn’t need the holographic table Praxia and the engineers were surrounding.
The table was depicting a representation of the colony: Seed One off to the edge with the rows of houses center stage. By now, all of the houses were complete and stretched beyond the edge of the table, allowing the last of the colonists to leave and the dormitories to be repurposed or demolished. The engineers present before Praxia were of a mind to repurpose it into a new pediatric clinic.
“As you well know, Regent,” the lead engineer Gear Ratio stated while pointing with his hoof at a list of materials needed. He was a blonde earth pony with a ruddy brown coat. “Renovation should be trivial since we can repurpose most of the dorms into individual medical rooms. Since the Princess is going to be continuing the procreation initiative for the foreseeable future, having a scalable clinic for the newer generations will be of paramount importance.”
Praxia had learned early on to remain outwardly impassive to supplicants whether she approved or not. The young royal changeling propped herself up onto the edge of the table to scrutinize the structure in more detail. “I’m not worried about the materials needed, Gear Ratio, but in the structural soundness of the dorm itself.”
She continued speaking while waving a hoof to pull up the old blueprints of the dorm. “Let’s be honest with ourselves. We built the dorm in a hurry to get ponies out of the ship so they weren’t bunked on the floor. Its location is not optimal for future needs, and it was never meant to be a permanent structure to begin with.”
Gear’s assistant, Parabolic Curve, was a short haired unicorn mare with a nasally voice. She was sporting a large baby bump with twins on the way. “But, Regent, the first foals are expected in four months. There’s no way we could build a whole new clinic of that scale quickly enough to be of use.”
Praxia mulled over the dilemma while tapping her chin. “We can if we divert the printers away from building the geothermal plant, and repurpose the rover workshop.”
At that, Spike pushed off the wall he was leaning on and stepped forward. “That can’t happen, Praxia. My work order for some the R-series Light Combat Vehicles just got started yesterday. We need those if we’re going to keep pushing against those xenomorph swarms massing across the Xenomass Swamps.”
Praxia gave Spike a disbelieving, yet courteous look. “I may not have a military mind, Commander.” Praxia had been deliberate in using his title while on the job. “But wouldn’t aircraft be better suited to assist infantry in a swamp?”
Spike crossed his arms and spoke with a stern tone backed by his care for his soldiers. “Sure, but a trooper can’t duck for cover behind an aircraft flying over his head, let alone hold back a charging swarm of wolfbeetles from overrunning a squad if they manages to get close enough.”
“A fair point,” Praxia admitted without further protest. “Can you simply postpone your efforts for the next few months then?”
“No can do. These xenos breed like rabbits spliced with tribbles. The longer we take in clearing out those nests, the more marines I’m going to lose. Twilight and I are in full agreement that this campaign needs to happen asap.”
I can’t very well countermand Sensei's decree. Praxia already had a plan B, but she wasn’t going to like it. “Very well, Commander, I will leave your printers alone.” With a shared curt nod between them, Spike pulled back to wait and listen for his field operatives, leaving Praxia to resume her talks with the engineers. “I’m sorry, but Pie Graph has spent every work hour since we landed designing this clinic, and I still believe renovating the dormitories would be a step backwards.”
“We’re going to have to pull triple shifts to get enough built in time,” Gear Ratio grumbled with obvious displeasure. “Especially when most of the mares on my crew won’t be able to work in a few months.” He resisted the urge to point at Parabolic Curve.
Praxia fixed him with stern gaze and a raised eyebrow. “Nopony ever said this life was going to be easy. But if I recall correctly, Gear Ratio-” with a few swipes of her hoof, Praxia brought up the engineer’s personal file to confirm what she already knew. “You’re an expectant father, along with much of the construction staff. I can sympathize that this is above and beyond what the princess already calls upon each of us.” Praxia sighed inwardly. “You can use the dormitories as temporary bedding and nursery.” The engineers’ faces brightened with hope and thanks. “But make no mistake, the dorm has to go. I want that clinic finished asap.”
Parabolic Curve stepped forward to lightly grab Gear’s foreleg and tug him back a bit. “We can get it done, Regent.” She turned to address Gear Ratio. “We’ll just have to improvise.”
Satisfied, Praxia dismissed the construction hologram with a small spell. “Excellent. I look forward to watching your progress. If there’s nothing else?” she asked dismissively. Both engineers took the hint and excused themselves.
Once the pair were out of earshot, Praxia sighed morosely at the ire she had undoubtedly earned from Twilight. She told me straight up to get rid of the dorms, now how am I going to explain this?
“Regent Praxia,” Voyager announced, “the griffins are hailing us.”
The atmosphere in the Command Center grew chilly with Praxia sensing the heightened animosity from the surrounding operators. “They remain quiet for months only to speak up now?” she asked no one in particular. “Bring them up, Voyager.”
Praxia fully expected Thorn or some unfamiliar adjutant, yet the being that appeared on the large screen stunned her to her core. The female caller was certainly griffin shaped, and even had black feathers on the front half that could be seen, but she more or less had the face of a pony. However, a jagged black horn sat almost out of place on her maneless head. “This is Adjutant Gleaming Scythe. I have matters to discuss with your princess.”
Praxia spared a quick glance at Spike who appeared equally shocked. Is she a half changeling like me?! Taking a moment to recollect herself, Praxia did her best to sound professionally neutral. “Colonial Princess Twilight Sparkle is indisposed at the moment, but I speak with her full authority.”
Gleaming Scythe appraised Praxia with a quizzical lifted eyebrow. She took a moment to look at the other ponies’ reaction to that declaration. Yet Scythe was only satisfied when she saw Spike off to the side who was not voicing any disagreement. “Very well, Regent.” A ghost of approval flashed across Scythe before resettling on a decidedly unamused scowl. “I come bearing a grudge. Our scouts have confirmed numerous plundered old ruins with pony-made dig sites around them. Whatever artifacts you’ve stolen belong to the Griffin Dominion. Return them immediately.”
“They belong to you?” Praxia asked with professional mockery. “Adjutant, I assure you, anything we dug up over there was perfectly legal considering it was not your land at the time.”
“You would serve your master well in not playing these games, Regent.” Gleaming Scythe appeared flustered, but more or less kept an even tone. “Our surveillance satellites have detected no less than fifty of these dig sites spread across both continents. Well over half of which are in the Dominion. You obviously expected us to take these lands in particular and raided these sites ahead of time.”
Praxia telekinetically pulled an empty rolling chair over and sat down to give Scythe a false patient look. “Are you trying to tell me that you have retroactive rights to anything you own today?”
Gleaming Scythe glared at her pony-like counterpart. “I know a logic trap when I see one, Regent. This is not a matter of potential future land conquests. There were no sign of xeno civilization from Equuis observatories nor from orbit.”
“And yet that’s exactly what it is,” Praxia rebutted sharply. “The world is a big place for only three nations to share. You could have founded the Dominion anywhere you wanted.” Praxia fixed her with smug half lidded eyes. “It’s not our fault we guessed correctly.”
“You would jeopardize what peace we have so flippantly? I doubt your-”
“I’m jeopardizing the peace?!” Praxia interrupted with a shocking amount of ire and a stomped hoof. “What we did was well within the bounds of both our laws, you’re the one who calls us and starts making demands and threats. Don’t sit there and tell me Admiral Thorn wouldn’t have done the same thing had he arrived first.”
Gleaming Scythe was positively fuming with her eyes going bloodshot. She waved a threatening claw forward and moved to speak, but something drew her eyes off camera. She partially deflated her animosity and turned back towards Praxia. “On behalf of the Admiral, we will take this… slight no further and drop our claim. I trust you will have the same grace should you find the tables reversed someday.”
Without letting Praxia get another word in, Scythe ended the transmission with a cutting gesture.
Praxia exhaled and resisted the urge to collapse backward into her chair. That was unexpected. While Twilight and Cadence had given her a plethora of lessons on diplomacy, both with a soft and firm hoof, this had been her first trial by fire.
“Good job, kid,” Spike called out as he lumbered over with a sly grin on her face. “I was half convinced I’d have to step in.”
Praxia blushed under the praise, and instinctively used a touch of disguise magic to hide it. “Thank you, I - I hope I didn’t further the rift between the colonies.”
“Hardly.” Spike glanced back up at the view screen which had switched back to various sensor feeds across the continent or around the colony itself. “Thorn was prodding us for weakness, and you did well enough in my book.”
Praxia’s wings buzzed from the excitement of doing both Spike and assuredly Twilight proud, but her thoughts quickly settled on Gleaming Scythe. “Do you know what she was, Commander? A hybrid like me maybe?”
“She looked the part,” Spike admitted, scowling at the implications. “Question is: why?”
Far beyond the land and ocean, Gleaming Scythe knelt in front of Admiral Thorn’s desk in his private office. Thorn was currently staring out of the panoramic window, gazing upon the majestic mountain range the colony was perched upon, and the green valley below. The office had a number of artifacts of personal importance to Thorn. A broken rifle, a small sculpture of two griffins interlocked in claw-to-hoof fighting with a unicorn and earth pony complete with a painstakingly crafted landscape as a base, a portrait of the last Emperor, just to name a handful of them. A few of the highest medals a military officer could achieve in the Empire were among them, but largely, the rest of the artifacts’ meaning were lost to all but him. Although, there were rumors that Gleaming Scythe knew of them more than most.
Thorn listened to the gentle opera playing just loudly enough to be enjoyed, yet without distracting any conversation. Without turning away from the view, he called out towards Gleaming Scythe in a calm reassured manner. “So, Adjutant, what do you make of your discourse with Regent Praxia?”
Scythe’s blood chilled every time she heard him speak those words, or those similar in meaning. Not so much out of fear, but from the rush of adrenaline. “That Twilight Sparkle has managed to keep her from adopting that old Equestrian pacifism. She’s bold, but I could sense her fear behind that mask.”
“As expected. Out of all of the princesses, Twilight is the most forward thinker.” Thorn slightly turned his head and eyes towards his subordinate. “However, you were unable to exploit Praxia’s fear.” Gleaming scowled at herself and averted her gaze. “Do you know why?”
“Because she was operating from a position of strength. She and I both know that my demands would have never seen reparations being made. If anything it made me look foolish for even trying.”
“Good. The ponies will learn to underestimate you, use it.”
Scythe was slightly mollified by Thorn’s reasoning, but not entirely. “What about Twilight Sparkle and Spike the Dragon? Surely they’re old enough to see through that.”
“Don’t overestimate your opponent, Adjunct.” Thorn turned to face her fully with a calculating light smirk. “If such advanced age alone dictated skill and competence, there never would have been a need to flee our homeworld in the first place.”
With a snap of his claw, Scythe stood at ease. “But Twilight was not the one we took measure of today. So tell me in your own words, what do you think of your counterpart?”
A malicious sneer marred Scythe’s face. “She’ll make a fine rival. Just what mother intended.”
Thorn’s neutral expression turned slightly sour. Scythe’s bravado cooled in an instant at the perceived disapproval. “You may have your rivalry. You can show your superiority at will, but you are under no circumstances to jeopardize the survival of the Dominion or the ponies.”
Scythe blinked slowly at him, her mouth agape for a moment. “I - I thought we were meant to surpass them, either by dominating or eliminating them.”
Thorn’s disapproving scowl only deepened. “And here I thought you at least, could see past the propaganda of the Old World.” He turned away from her to gaze back out of the window. “Strife is a necessary aspect of the universe, Adjutant. You believe that much, do you not?”
“O-Of course, Admiral.” Scythe Briefly averted her gaze downward to express her submission.
“So tell me. Where do you think that strife will come from if we destroy the ponies?” He turned back towards her with cold calculating eyes. “And don’t say the minotaurs, because what would stop that mentality from destroying them as well?”
Gleaming Scythe didn’t need to think for very long. “Ourselves.”
“Precisely.” A modicum of approval slipped through his words. “We were a divided people before the Sun War, and I won’t let that happen again, do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal, sir.” There was a long pause hanging in the room after those words, as if Thorn was expecting her to ask him the right question. “You’re worried about those ruins the ponies poached out from under us.”
“Their actions are not what concerns me.” Again Thorn was silent, brooding in a higher level of thinking that would elude Scythe for decades to come. “Leaving our homeworld and finding evidence of alien civilization is as expected as it is terrifying for one reason.”
Again he let the statement hang, allowing Scythe to come to her own conclusion. “Are you saying interstellar empires could be out there?”
“Aren’t we one of them?” he asked rhetorically. “Ignore the fact that we’ll likely not reestablish communication with the other griffin colonies for decades if not a few generations down the line.” Thorn moved over to a liquor table and poured a glass of his favorite non-alcoholic. “The fact is, whether the builders of the ruins return or a different empire all together takes note of us; in all likelihood, we don’t stand a chance to resist them.”
Understanding further dawned on Gleaming Scythe. “So that’s the other reason you want the ponies alive. Strife has always accelerated technological advancement. Especially for the military. It’s why the world was able to put the Seed programs together so quickly.”
“Glad to see your mother’s efforts on you continue to bear fruit.” With drink in claw, Thorn walked back to his desk, sat down, and started going through some paperwork. “For the time being, I want you spearheading the search for any ruins the ponies might have missed, starting with any we discover outside our borders. Technological secrets, historical records, I want everything you can find on these forerunners. Since I promised we won’t try hacking the ponies’ networks, we’ll have to find out the hard way. I don’t like having blind spots in my intelligence.”
Gleaming Scythe clicked her heels and saluted, knowing she was being dismissed. “By your command, Admiral.”
Earlier that day, a certain pathfinder was happily dozing away under the rising sun. Prism awoke to nothing more threatening than sun glare in her eyes. A fact that Joe would have been eternally grateful for if the AI was capable of emotion.
Since her environment suit kept her warm overnight, Prism stayed on her back and stretched hard to get her joints to pop. Ugh. I forgot how much of a pain it is to sleep on hard ground. All that time in the colony’s made me soft.
“Good morning, Pathfinder. I have mapped the next twenty miles of potential beacon locations for your approval.”
Prism waved a tired hoof at the rover while stifling a yawn. “Sure sure, let me wake up and eat first. We still have some of those pancake MREs?”
“There are only two left, did you not want to save them for special occasions?”
Prism had yet to open her eyes, and was currently enjoying the last of her morning wing stretches to get the sleep out of her. “Nah, it’s fine, just pop it out for me.”
“As you wish.”
At that, she heaved herself up to a sitting position and started rubbing her face, an act that had become far more popular with the advent of robotic hands. It was then she felt something different on her forehead. Not anything obvious, but one does not rub their face for over two decades without sensing something amiss.
And right now, she couldn’t help but notice a very slight bump. Her fatigue evaporated and her heart started pounding. “Joe, I need a mirror please!”
Prism rushed over to the rover’s primary camera, stumbling over her hooves in the process. As soon as the rover had its sights on her, the camera feed was fed into her personal display. Prism’s train of thought was jarred badly off track by how disheveled her mane and fur looked. There was being practical in the wilds, and then there was cavepony, and she looked decidedly like the latter. “Fix hair later. Focus, PF.”
Using her hands to brush her horridly disheveled mane out of the way, Prism had Joe zoom in on where a horn would be. At first glance, it appeared to be her usual smooth forehead, yet the highly advanced tactile sensors in her fingers told her otherwise. She had to get the camera to view her from the side while pushing her fur down to make anything visible, but there was no mistaking it. Prism grinned massively at the minute bump that was almost hidden by her fur, but it was there all the same.
“Ah ha!! I knew it! All I needed to get a horn was some weeks away in the fresh air!” Prism decided to ignore the logical side of her brain telling her that was in all likelihood complete bollocks. “Yup, definitely the fresh air.” Prism started dancing in place, strutting around the rover like a little filly in a toy store with unlimited cash.
While her family was paramount in her life, there was one central cause for her exuberation. The most important door agelessness would open up for her: never ending exploration. There would be no old age to one day cut her pathfinder career short. Even in the time it would take for the colony to be large enough to think about colonizing the stars, she wouldn’t even be close to her prime as an alicorn. That above all else got her blood racing so much that morning caffeine could be skipped today.
“Hey Joe!” she cheered while jumping on top of the rover and thrusting her face into the camera. “Do you think even an alicorn could die of old age before exploring the whole galaxy?”
“Current data suggests that would be an impossibility. Should I inform Central of this development, Pathfinder?”
Prism’s first instinct was yes, but she caught herself before responding and gave it some thought. She waved her head back and forth and squinted one eye. “Ehhh, nah. It’s smaller than a pimple right now, and our mission is supposed to last another month. No need to bother momma with something smaller than a zit right now. I mean, it’s not like momma didn’t know it was going to happen anyway, being the 4-D chessmaster she is.”
“I fail to see why chess mastery has any bearing on this line of inquiry.” The AI was further confused by the exasperated look Prism gave it, so it deliberately switched topics. “I have finished my initial analysis on the false topaz, Pathfinder. Shall I present my findings?”
The question brought Prism’s emotional high down a few notches. As much as she was ecstatic about her growing pimple of a horn, there was little she could really do about or with it. “Alrighty, show me what you got while I eat.”
With practiced ease, Prism cracked open her ration pack and started chowing down while occasionally glancing at the mineral readings the AI plastered on her personal display. Most of the data was of elemental composition, molecular structure, and other information that would be far more fascinating to a dedicated geologist. Ultimately, it was part of her job to find more intriguing objects for study, and leave the more mundane items for later teams.
Yet something caught her eyes right after she polished off the hash brown. “Electrical resistance is unreadable? What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly that. My tests were unable to find any electrical resistance.”
Prism jumped up to look the rover in the camera. “Are you telling me that thing is a superconductor!?”
“That is implausible, Pathfinder.” The AI was as emotionless as ever. “It is far more likely one or more of my scanners are misaligned or damaged. A superconductor can not exist at such warm temperatures.”
“Quite illogical of an AI to ignore the facts,” Prism teased, causing Joe’s camera to zoom in and out on her face out of a logic error it often saw in her. “Relay the findings to Central. I think we found something worth delaying our road work, wouldn’t you say?”
“The repair of my testing equipment?”
Prism rolled her eyes and head and fixed the AI with a scowl. “No dufus, we gotta get more of them gems to see if that one is one of a kind. Gimme one of the sample boxes, I remember seeing some in the valley last night.”
“As you order, Pathfinder.”
In a rush, Prism wolfed down the rest of her breakfast and resorted to using only mouthwash in her race to get down to the valley. With the morning sun not yet high enough to bathe the valleys in its light, Prism used a flashlight to try and get the gems to reflect glints of light.
The tactic worked brilliantly, revealing numerous crystals strewn across the length of the valley. With no apparent wildlife to speak of, Prism was free to collect quite a number of them. After collecting half the box’s worth, she started to become more discretionary with her selections, going for larger samples over just anything she found.
She spotted quite a large chunk of the crystal perched in between two boulders. “Found the motherload right there.” Prism threaded through the jagged terrain as low to the ground as possible, diving and squeezing past with the thrill of flight.
Upon arriving, she saw the large sample of yellow crystal was only loosely held in place between the boulders. Yet as she reached for it, a deep thrum started up. Being in the air, she’d have missed it entirely were it not for dozens of tiny pebbles and rocks started to clatter in all directions.
~“Pathfinder,”~ Joe called over the radio as it remained on the original hill where Prism had left it. ~“I am detecting a major seismic disturbance headed this way.”~
Prism unconsciously dropped her box of samples, and reactively grabbed the larger crystal when it fell towards her as it was dislodged from the boulders. It took her a moment or two to fully register the AI’s warning. ~“Wait, what do you mean ‘headed this way’? Earthquake epicenters don’t move.”~ She clutched the ten pound crystal close to her chest and abandoned the box while slowly flying away from the ground.
~“Then I suggest you bring your complaint up to the quake itself. I recommend keeping a safe distance in the air.”~
The rumbling of the earth was intensifying by the minute with the noise of shattering grinding stone echoing off in the distance. Her eyes went wide at how fast the new and far greater rumble was approaching.
Without a second thought, Prism launched herself high into the air, straining her large wings as fast as they could carry her. It wasn’t long before she made it well above the ground, even higher than the hills, and joined Joe who was flying by virtue of its twin rotor engines.
Once she was safe and sound in the air, Prism allowed herself to rest easy for a moment. “That’s some crazy earthquake.”
Joe was silent for several moments before speaking up. “Pathfinder, I have written a request for a tectonic scanner to be deployed from orbit, but the requisition order will require your authorization.”
Prism mulled over the request, using one of the edges of the crystal to scratch her chin. We’ve only just recently put some of those in orbit thanks to Ruby’s constant nagging. That alone almost caused Prism to deny the order, if only out of spite for Ruby. But at the same time… With the rattling of stones growing ever louder, Prism grew hesitant. “The quake would probably crush the probe. Let’s wait until after things settle down.”
The clamor of agitated rocks and the rumbling earth was growing intensely loud with a dust cloud peeking over the edge of a nearby hill. Prism’s blood froze when she thought she saw some massive wormlike thing moving behind the hill, barely visible just above the crest.
“Uhhh…. Joe, tell me you saw that.” Prism started gaining altitude as fear washed over her.
“Saw what?”
The noise of breaking rock climbed into a full deafening quake as the stone and rock below the pair exploded outward. Prism’s fight or flight jolted straight into flight as an enormous conical behemoth the size of a building heaved itself skyward. It belted off a gut rattling roar as its conical face opened up to reveal it was in fact four massive tentacles spiraled together.
Prism freaked and shot to the side, perpendicular to the leviathan's upward charge. The rover was just as quick witted, but not so physically. Joe’s engines strained to follow after Prism, but one of the monstrous worm’s flailing tentacles scored a glancing blow on the rover.
That glance might as well have been a freight train, and shattered the left rotor engine into scrap metal. The beast ignored the crippled machine as a second colossal worm blasted its way out of the earth in front of it. Both monstrosities bellowed an ear shattering challenge at the other.
The bellowing would have permanently deafened Prism were it not for the rapid response of her ear protection moving to encompass her whole body. Training kicked in, allowing Prism to dive rapidly towards the nearest forest covered hill. ~“Joe, execute order 512.”~
The tumbling machine used data from Prism’s goggles to identify her chosen location. With a few tactical thrusts from its remaining rotor, the rover angled and detached a big section of itself.
Boosting away with a short-lived rocket, the capsule shot past Prism and smashed through a tree before embedding itself in the root clogged dirt. The rest of Joe smashed against the broken ground, only to get swallowed up by the churning stone next to the warring behemoths.
Prism bolted towards the downed capsule, threading through the foliage and destroyed trees to skid to a rough landing near the capsule. She dropped the yellow crystal and pressed a button on the side to discard the rocket, lightening the load so she could carry it with both hands. As she worked to get a good grip, the pod sent an S.O.S. signal to Seed One with an automatic acknowledgement reply coming in almost equally fast.
Good, looks like the important stuff is here.
A stone rattling battle cry echoed throughout the hills, drawing her panicked eyed upward to see the second great worm clamp down on the first one’s neck and was wrestling it down toward Prism. “Oh come on!”
Not being an idiot, Prism bolted perpendicular to the falling skyscraper-sized worms, easily clearing the area with the rover pod intact. Prism fled across the gap between two hills and landed at the third in her path before taking stock of her situation. With the two battling worms focused on each other, she looked down towards the broken valley, and saw the stones rumbled even out here. No way to tell if that means more worms, or if those two are just that stupidly big.
Prism’s search for safe haven was interrupted by Spike’s head materializing in the top right corner of her display. “Pathfinder, what’s the situation?”
Fearful of being distracted, Prism gained as much altitude as she could safely tolerate. “Tatzlwurms, sir, bigger than stupid. Two of them just got into fistycuffs and trashed my rover, and probably didn’t even notice it, bastards.”
Spike’s dower face only darkened. “How big is stupid, Pathfinder?”
“You know the Mare of Liberty? Ya know, before it was covered in a glacier? Try that, but like, after she gorged on Beefcake 9000™ for a month or two.”
The old bronze statue with rolls of- “That’s a mental image I could have done without.” Spike suppressed a shudder of disgust and turned to bark a few orders to others in the Command Center. “You can give a full report later. Right now, you need to enact Protocol Zeta.”
Turning her eyes to the sky, Prism noticed some clouds, but they were far too high up to be viable resting points. Typically, Avalon lacked the low hanging clouds of Equuis, which was more of a product of pony controlled weather. Well that sucks. Unless…
“Already on it, Sir. I’ll keep in touch.” With a nod from Spike, Prism Flash closed the channel to focus on survival.
Pushing back south to the way she came, Prism turned her gaze downward to scout the landscape. Sure enough, she spotted a small lake nestled inside a ring of hills with a small stream feeding it from a distant mountain range far to the southwest. It was one she had charted three days prior.
“Perfect. Provided there aren’t any big fish.”
By the time Prism made it to the edge of the lake, the rover pod’s weight was simply too much to bear any longer. She all but drop it on the bank before letting herself fall in a heap. Her forelegs and wings burning from the long effort. Stupid blue box must be solid gold, cripes that thing is heavy. Prism shakily stood back up. “Can’t stop now. No telling if some creepy crawly is nearby.”
She briefly made sure the pod wasn’t damaged, and dragged it back away from the waterline just to be safe. Once done, she shouldered her rifle and scanned the foliage behind her. A few leaves and smaller mushrooms rustled with a low growl coming out that was barely audible over the backdrop of the titans fighting in the distance.
Gritting her teeth, Prism fired off several rounds into the underbrush, catching or at least scaring off whatever was hiding. “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood to take chances, buddy.”
After scanning the rest of her immediate surroundings, Prism propped her weapon against a nearby stick and faced the lake. Flaring her broad wings out, she started slowly flapping towards the water, pouring her magic into the effort. At first the brackish green water started to ripple in a pony-sized area in front of Prism.
A minute later, the water was churning as steam started forming, growing into a mist. With her alicorn magic empowering her wings, Prism shaped and condensed the mist into a big puffy cloud over the course of fifteen minutes.
After stopping her spellwork, Prism tucked her aching wings back with a hissing grimace. Working this world’s weather is painfully rough. Nevertheless, one long studious look at her cloud produced a satisfied nod. “Alrighty. Let’s get-” She stepped away from the cloud and towards the rover pod when her hoof came down on something both crunchy and wet. Looking down, in between her boot and some concealing brambles, were the remains of numerous crushed eggs. Prism barely had a moment to register the destruction when the growling from within the bushes returned, only this time it was joined in by a dozen more. “Of course I pick the one spot there’s a nest. Five bits says there’s like a ton more all around me.”
In that moment, Prism was standing at the edge of the water with the cloud behind her, the pod sitting on the ground just over two meters away, and the bushes ten meters from the lake. Prism pulled her hoof out of the egg nest and leveled her rifle while standing on her back legs, using her wings for balance.
To her expert ears, Prism sensed the source of those growls were fanning out across the thick bushes ringing the lake, and bounced her aim between each new growl, but never seeing a target. “You know, horn, if you’d have at least gotten a few inches by now, I could have just levitated that pod over, but nooo.”
With rations, a radio beacon, and Joe’s core memory entombed in the pod, abandoning it was not an option. I can’t risk whatever those things are having some kind of acid or the strength to damage the pod if I just wait them out in the air.
Steeling herself, Prism took to the air in a low slow flight towards the pod. The growling intensified from the bushes with the pseudo leaves rattling to the point where some started to fall off.
Prism made it above the pod, but now she was in even more trouble. Can’t hold both the rifle and the pod at once… Rut this is bad. Acting almost on instinct, Prism started firing full auto into into the closest bushes. Ribbons of amber magefire cleaved the plants apart, with yowls of pain joining the din.
She emptied the magazine in one go, and as soon as the weapon clicked dry, Prism dropped to the ground and shouldered the rifle. She barely got a good grip on the pod when the bushes exploded with dog sized purple reptiles full of gnashing teeth and one hell of a temper.
With the pod weighing her down, Prism didn’t have time to get back in the air, so she hefted the pod onto her back and ran as fast as she could. The lizards were lightning quick though, with several catching Prism before she was even halfway back to the cloud.
The closest one lunged for her, and bit down on her left flank. The bite wasn’t able to cut through the environment suit, but still enough to make Prism stumble. “Sod off!” she barked as she used a wing to smack the reptile in the head to free herself. The delay had given three other lizards the chance to circle around and cut her off from the cloud. With the mass of the pod cutting her agility to a fraction, she couldn’t stop in time to keep from running right into the pack of lizards. Her momentum surprised the lizard in front of her, with both her and the pod crushing the lizard’s head.
However the other lizards were upon her in seconds. From on top of the dead purple reptile, Prism kicked at them, clocking one in the jaw while another uselessly tried to bite her metal boot off. “Get back! I’m warning you!”
The rest of the pack wasted no time in closing in. Prism summoned a gust of wind by flapping one wing hard, rebuffing the pack for a moment. Yet that was all the time she needed to roll back onto her hooves and bring her empty rifle to bear.
The reappearance of the fearful weapon only made the lizards more desperate, eager to win quickly before it could be used again. Prism fumbled in a hasty attempt to change mags before the seven lizards converged. She cursed as the magazine hit the dirt almost acting like a signal for the lizard to attack as one. “Get back damn it!”
Prism riflebutted one lizard and elbowed the next, but two of them got under her guard, biting her chest with enough force to puncture the thin rigid armor protecting the suit’s systems. The other lizards smelled blood and all latched onto her legs with one on her neck.
Bright red letters appeared in the side of Prism’s display. Warning: internal Stopgap detox solution damaged and contaminated.
Prism struggled with all her might to try and free her forelegs just to pry the lizard off her neck, but the other reptiles kept her pinned. Pain screamed out at Prism from her neck and limbs. With what breath she could squeeze out, she uttered three words. “Activate fail-safe Stopgap.”
Through her dimming vision, Prism’s normally green personal display went red as the potent cocktail was injected into her. Included was a dangerous mana-based form of oxygen that shot her awareness up to double of normal.
With teal foam at the mouth, Prism hissed wordless fury and with more strength then she knew she had, clenched her left robotic fist and punched the lizard attached to her right foreleg, throwing off the reptile attached to her left limb in the process. The impact caved in the assailant's skull and sent the other flying off. With both hands now free, Prism gripped the mouth of the lizard that tried to snap her windpipe and pulled the jaws apart. The beast squealed in pain as the metal fingers bent and snapped teeth off with the herculean effort.
Now that she could breath fully, Prism roared her drug-induced fury at her would be killer and broke the reptile’s jaw in two, sending broken teeth flying in all directions. The two lizards that had hung back to watch the kill were cowed by their pack leader being thrust aside, giving Prism enough time to retrieve her fallen rifle.
Gripping the barrel, she brought the butt of the rifle down on the skull of the lizard still thrashing at her right hind leg like a battle axe. She blinded the beast by caving in one eye with the other one impacting the ground after it let go. “I told you to back the rut off!” Prism screamed as she swung the rifle again like a hammer to free her last leg, but the lizard let go and jumped away before she could land a hit.
Free to move at last, Prism adjusted her grip of the rifle to normal and spotted the dropped magazine. The lizards were already fleeing to the bushes by the time she flipped the magazine for the fresh rounds and readied to fire. But that didn’t stop her from standing back up to unload onto the shrubs, heedless of whether or not she was hitting anything.
By the time the rifle went dry, the lizards were gone, leaving four of their number dead on the ground. Prism fell back onto all fours, panting heavily as the mana-oxygen ran its course, leaving her muscles feeling like lead on her bones.
The rifle clattered to the ground with Prism coughing green foam onto the ground in chunks along with a wad of blood. Her red rimmed eyes hung on the personal display giving multiple warnings of her injuries and climbing side effects of the Stopgap. Thankfully, the painkillers hadn’t stopped working yet.
Coughing up green foam mixed with blood the whole time, Prism flipped the rover pod over and opened the side panel. Her gaze was drawn to the red cross along the bottom of the pod. Flakes of green foam were hacked over the pod as she opened the first aid kit, and she snatched up the orange emergency detox capsule.
Painkillers or not, her legs seemed to resist every effort of hers to drag the candy bar sized vial from the kit and into the socket on her left foreleg right above the robotic hand mount.
“Come on, you stupid thing, get in, get in!” Just when it looked like she was going to slot it successfully, her fine motor control over the hand got sloppy and ended up pushing the vial away and it fell the ground.
“Gaaauuhh! Those things better not be circling back around or I’m as good as toast.” In the corner of her eye, the display flashed more red warnings of muscle degradation already starting with nerve damage not far behind, tactfully reminding her to do what she was already trying to do.
“I get it already!” Opting to lean on her side, Prism used the ground to ease the vial into the proper slot. The suit accepted the vial with a friendly four-note chime and pumped it into her veins.
Relief didn’t come in the more immediately noticeable sense, but that wasn’t the point of first aid detox. Instead the medication only worked to stop the damage from getting any worse and flushing her system of the worst toxins. Sadly, this also meant it was a powerful diuretic.
But that wouldn’t matter for at least an hour. For the time being, Prism wiped her mouth of the green foam that would still be there for days. Note to self: repeatedly punch the guy that invented the mana based o2 and then thank him with kisses.
With leaden misery in every limb, Prism worked for the better part of an hour to drag the pod over to the cloud while saturating the thing with enough pegasi magic to make sure it didn’t drop right through. She was at the very limits of her endurance when Prism was finally able to lethargically flap her wings to push the cloud away from the water and a little ways into the air.
By that time, Stopgap had fully run into the negative aspect of its use. Her muscles burned like fire which only compounded the agony of the biting and tearing the lizards caused. While the mesh skin of the environment suit was tougher than the teeth and jaw of the lizards, it came at the cost of being pliable and stretchy enough for there to be extensive bruising, torn ligaments, several missing feathers, and one seriously bruised ego.
Were it not for the more traditional and less dangerous painkillers, courtesy of the first aid kit, now running through her, Prism would have been a gibbering mess of agony and suffering from both the fallout of Stopgap and the lizards’ injuries. “Do I really need to let Command see me like this? Losing my rover was bad enough.” she whispered to herself between slow breaths. Yes, because protocol says you have to report this, her logical side protested.
“Ba fangoo to protocol.” A part of her giggled at the knowledge the pain meds were making her loopy and couldn’t summon the mental energy to care.
Prism had the foresight to leave the pod right next to her so she wouldn’t have to move too much. Right beside the AI’s blue box, was a radio powerful enough to reach the satellites. Prism could barely perform the eye and foreleg movements necessary to order her display to reopen a channel to Seed One.
“Praise Luna for Rolly Gogers, making old Equestrian rap, and eye command interfaces, woo foo.” Prism did a feeble foreleg shake of adulation, right as Spike’s glowering scowl of a face appeared.
“Damn, Pathfinder, if your vital readings are accurate, you look like you went through the meat grinder and back again. Are you going to make a habit out of this?”
“Leave it to you, Uncle, to kick me when I’m down.” Despite the pain in doing so, Prism chuckled with a snarky grin. “I think I am in La La Land, and I gotta admit,” she drawled with a stupid grin. “And the catering here is horrible.”
Were it not for the direct satellite feed showing Prism was not in immediate physical danger, Spike might have slipped into panic mode. Instead, he was able to focus more on her intoxication. “You hit the Stop Gap again, didn’t you?” Prism did a horrible attempt at trying to play it off with a shrug and a smile. “Don’t worry, girl, I’ll have the medivac floor it. Mind telling me what critter you pissed off this time?” If you even can in this state.
Prism tried to sit up from laying on her back, but all she accomplished was sending torrents of pain through every muscle, making her collapse back down. “I didn’t actually piss off the first two, Scout’s honor!” Prism tried to cross her fingers, which failed miserably, so she opted to cross her index fingers instead and could only touch them together briefly. “But - ah - but as for the little runts, it was their own damn fault for putting eggs on a lake bank. Idiots, am I right?”
“So you claim,” Spike teased, knowing full well that in her present state, Prism was in no position to think rationally. And yet he still had to try. “Are you sure your position is secure long enough for them to get to you?”
“I’m on cloud nine and as high as a kite, that’s about it.” Prism broke into uncontrolled giggling coupled with random ‘ow’ from the laughter hurting her.
Spike’s attention was drawn away from her by a minor alert. He tapped a few commands before addressing her again. “Going by the log data your blue box is sending, it seems like your pod brought a crystal sample with it… Deposited in the emergency rations container for some reason.”
Prism’s bloodshot eyes zapped fully open with her staring at Spike with a brief surge of sanity. “I knew I kept Joe around for a reason.” Mild panic set in, forcing Prism to bite through the pain to sit up. “And before anypony gets any funny ideas, I wanna name that stuff Prismite! I gunna smell like bonkers, I tell you what.” As rapidly as it came, her sanity slipped back down again.
Spike lifted a worried eyebrow. “I think that’s a smell I could do without.” I’m going to have to save this transmission so Twi and I can laugh at it in a few months or so. “For now, just sit tight and wait for evac.”
Prism felt the siren call of sleep and fell down on her back again. “Well don’t mind iffa do.”