//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: Fuse // Story: The Harmony Initiative // by Madame Hellspawn //------------------------------// One Week Later The doll slumped over when Twilight’s magic released it. The corners of her lips dropped, but she was determined to get it to stand upright. “What’s that?” Spike asked. “Dazzle.” Twilight answered simply, trying to adjust the pony into an upright position. She gently released it with her magic, but he slumped over on the shelf. The alicorn released a sigh, setting the plush stallion back on all fours as best she could. She released again and he stood, as proud as a plush crochet doll could. Twilight admired the spot on features and even the miniscule patch of fabric that made up the cutie mark. Not even a second later and he fell flat on his muzzle. “I thought Sweetie Belle made that for Spitfire?” “Spitfire has her own way of coping.” Twilight rubbed her eyes with a hoof. She hoped Spitfire would take it, or at least thank her for bringing it and then promptly reject. Instead she looked more pained than anything and just shook her head. Judging from the carefully knitted doll, Sweetie Belle had put countless hours making sure Dazzle’s features were accurately represented in crochet form. Twilight did not want to have her efforts go to waste. “You should consider getting some sleep,” Spike suggested, grasping her hoof in one of his little claws. He gestured to the bed, but Twilight shook her head. “Why not? You’ve been up for days!” Twilight yawned. “I’m waiting on those reports from Starlight. I would have liked to overlook the science team, just stand by and watch, but Starlight said I’d be a bit distracting.” Much to her disappointment, being the only alicorn in the base as well as the commanding officer meant her subordinates often felt pressured. She had tried to reassure everypony that she was understanding and that she was capable of more than just giving orders, but it seemed that only the griffons and a small hoof-ful of the changelings truly believed that. She knew Gilda most certainly did, especially after her little ‘celebration’. Twilight cursed herself for not setting some ground rules there, but at least the ponies managed to get the mess cleaned up and fix the bar’s countertop. Still, Twilight would be patient with her ponies, griffons and whatever other species was crammed in the farthest corner of Equestria. They would come around eventually. All she needed from them was a little more time. There we go. Twilight smiled, watching her magic aura unravel around Dazzle and letting the stallion stand all on his own. He stayed this time, hooves planted as firmly as a doll would allow. “Staying up isn’t going to make the reports come any faster.” Spike released Twilight’s hoof. “C’mon Twi, there’s been no action for a week! That’s a good sign right?” “No, Spike,” Twilight sat and looked down at the dragon. He started for his own bed set up just beside her own. Her eyes stopped following him when he disappeared behind her. “That just means The Invaders are planning something. The fight isn’t over. It won’t be anytime soon.” News reports flooded from all over Equestria detailing the attack on Vanhoover. Ponies reported soldiers of advanced technology and the like fighting against the aliens. Princess Celestia and Luna had yet to speak about the matter and Twilight found herself fretting at the thought of what they would reveal or if they would reveal anything at all. She saw no harm in having ponies know about The Initiative, but she was sure that panic was going to set in throughout Equestria like wildfire. It was something that had interrupted her dreams as of late. Twilight was unsure of how she wanted Equestria to react to the news when it came. What would happen? Would ponies frantically try to flee the nation? Where would they go once they left? Would the princesses even allow the citizens to leave? Her mind reeled with thousands of questions. How would The Invaders respond to the news, if they could even understand it? It may very well narrow down their search for whoever it was setting back their advances. The Initiative may have a base in one of the most secure places of all of Equestria, but if the aliens were to find out where that was, she doubted being able to successfully repel an attack or even follow up with a counter. It was too early in the war and they hardly knew anything about the enemy. “Commander to Engineering! Commander to Engineering!” Ooh, that’s it. Twilight straightened her body and stood on all fours. She turned to her left, looking at herself in the mirror. She grabbed her brush and fixed the stray strands of her mane and tail, hoping nopony would notice the dark bags forming under her eyes. She headed for the door, granting a last glance at her quarters. “Are you coming Spike?” He was already fast asleep in his bed, snoring loudly and peacefully. Twilight’s lips curved up. “Well goodnight to you too.” *** The memorial was as quiet as it could be with a mare flying in circles above the obsidian obelisk standing in the center. Watching her golden coat shimmering with the fake moonlight was mesmerizing, especially without her bright blue and yellow uniform hugging her body. Soarin watched as she completed a full loop and launching herself into the air, stopping short of the room’s ‘ceiling’. She allowed herself a moment to relax before her body flipped over and she spun in a graceful nosedive towards the ground, bringing herself up mere inches from the grass. Despite being a Wonderbolt himself, Soarin had to admit that watching a routine that he had actually performed time and time again, but with just one pony, was mesmerizing. The way she stretched her body during turns and her relaxed composure as she spun and flapped her wings gently brought a smile to Soarin’s face. When his eyes met Spitfire’s, she brought herself down onto the soft bristles of grass with a graceful landing. “This what you’ve been up to?” Soarin asked with a grin. “Someone’s got to keep the kid company,” Spitfire said with a faint smile. “He was always sensitive like that.” Soarin watched her expression soften and felt his own grin drop. She looked back at the monolith behind her, erected with only a single name inscribed, although too small to see from the entrance of the faux-meadow the two pegasi stood in. As selfish as many would have considered it, Soarin found it relatively easy to move on, while others stayed behind and allowed the loss of one heavily affect their day to day lives. The Wonderbolts were synonymous with family among the ranks, Soarin never doubted that. What he did doubt was keeping himself in the same rut day in and day out. Pegasi culture was, in a sense, foreign to him in that regard. They were a proud race and it showed. Sure, it was hard at first, and there were a couple of sleepless nights in the medical bay after the wounds had settled, but Soarin knew there would be more names to add to the curved obsidian slab. He knew little about wars, but the things he did know was that there was always going to be casualties. More than one anyway. It was best to accept that fact than to try and avoid it. “We’re missing you down at the rec room,” Soarin said, motioning his body to expose the door behind him. “Was wondering if you were coming back.” “I will,” Spitfire answered, a tinge of uncertainty in her voice. “I just…” “What?” “I’ve been thinking a lot about something,” she said digging into the dirt with a forehoof. “About us. The Wonderbolts I mean.” “Like what?” She grimaced. “Soarin, we’re performers. We’re not soldiers or anything. Do you think maybe we should...I don’t know...leave?” “No.” Soarin said simply. Spitfire looked down, her eyes veered off to the side and she chewed the inside of her mouth. “I get it Spitfire. You’re scared. I’m scared too, but if we leave this, we should leave our duties as wonderbolts behind as well. We were meant to bring hope to the ponies of Equestria and ensure their happiness. What we’re doing here isn’t all that different.” “Do you really believe that?” “Without a doubt.” She gave a warm smile, the kind Soarin saw only one time before in the time they had known each other He could still see the uncertainty in her eyes, but she was trying to believe what he had said. He longed to see that again in the weeks he had spent in the medical bay and even in the times after, when Spitfire seemed to hardly have any time for him and the rest of the Wonderbolts. There was a mix of feelings stirring inside of him. She was somepony he could depend on and somepony who had always been there for him. Had there ever been a moment where it was the other way around? Soarin could not remember. She had every right to be scared now. He would be there for her, to help her cope. "I'm here for you Spitfire," he said with a smile. "The other Bolts are too. You're the captain after all." The golden mare snickered and rubbed her eyes. "With the way you talk, I'm starting to think you should be the captain." "No offense, but I don't think anypony could yell at the rookies like you can." Her expression softened and her body seemed to relax. There was an odd gleam in her eyes as the faux-moon hung high and shone down upon the lone grave. She approached hesitantly. "C'mere." She moved forward, reaching a hoof out towards him. He accepted the hug, but Spitfire added her own spice to it. Their lips connected, Soarin's heart stopping when he felt her's against his own, but he could not pull himself away. There was a storm of emotions, all of them sublime and lovely. He felt guilty for allowing himself to enjoy this moment with his superior, but he did not want it to end. What would the other Wonderbolts do when they found out? If they found out? No matter how hard he tried to will his body to move away, he could not. He put his fears to rest, relaxing and letting his wings fold at his side, pulling Spitfire closer. *** Zeldamar pulled the trigger of the rifle in her R.A.A.G.S. grip, but was left with the disappointing click of the bulky weapon. She jerked her head up and let the goggles press uncomfortably against the end of her stiff mane. Down the range, several burn marks scorched the dummies from various distances, a few even trailing against the walls and windows, but it was not those things that had caused her to grimace and cast a scowl out to the unicorn watching from the observation window. “I thought I asked for an enchanted amethyst at full charge!” She shouted to the charcoal unicorn. “What happened?” “It was at full charge ma’am!” Kirin explained. She levitated a small data pad and swiped at the screen with her hooves. “I triple checked everything!” Sure enough, the screen showed the initial readings of the enchanted gem. Charged at full capacity, almost breaking the threshold of recommended enchantment power. “I don’t get it,” Zeldamar sighed, throwing down her goggles and placing the experimental rifle down on the table. The braces of her R.A.A.G.S. undid themselves and dropped to the floor with a thunk. “The rifle should be able to consume the arcane power at a reasonable rate.” The door to the firing range slid open. Kirin trotted in, data pad held in her golden hornglow. “It’ll be alright Zel.” The unicorn levitated the rifle, disassembling it to its bare fundamental modules. It was one thing Zeldamar had prided herself in; creating a new line of weapons approved not only by Starlight Glimmer, but by the Commander herself. The one thing she was not proud of however, was their lack of functionality. In the time since getting patched up by the doctors, Zeldamar, Kirin and four other ponies had brainstormed possible ideas on how to replicate the alien weaponry, although in a more primitive manner in comparison. The team spent countless hours watching footage of the soldiers in action on the field, in hopes they could better understand the intact weaponry as well as successfully open up and dig through the fragments brought to them. Progress had been slow, but it was still progress nonetheless. “If I had to guess,” Kirin examined the crystal housing chamber. It rotated in a field between the two. “I’d say it has something to do with heat distribution. The aliens are able to harness the power sources without them overheating. That and the focusing lenses in this are cracked.” Kirin levitated another component of the rifle, a piece that surrounded the crystal’s chamber. It’s vents still steamed after the numerous shots Zeldamar fired down the range. Her horn lit up brighter, giving the amethyst a quick scan. “Hmm. Crazy hot, but still has the magic in it. Lot’s of juice left over.” “Is that it?” Zeldamar stood up, taking on a more dignified pose. “How about we water cool it? Ooh! Or use nitrogen?” “And protentially freeze it?” Kirin thought it over. “I mean, we could try and do that, but I don’t want to test this damn thing anymore.” Zeldamar frowned. “I’m not about to give up this project.” The zebra pointed her hoof down the range. She motioned to each of the burn marks and the destroyed dummies lying in a heap of burnt fabric and hay. “Imagine soldiers going out on the field with this stuff. This could be a turning point in the war!” “I’m not saying we should stop altogether,” Kirin defended, reassembling the weapon in her magic. The pieces snapped and popped together before she set it down with ease on the table just before the range. “I’m just saying we need a break. Come back and look at this stuff with fresh eyes.” “Nonsense!” Zeldamar waved a hoof and headed for the door. She climbed the steps with ease, Kirin following behind her until they reached the top. The facility was mostly empty, save for a few workers hard at work conducting tests and filling out reports. As if to reflect the late hours of the night, the lights were dimmed accordingly, the few left sitting at their desks resorting to their lamps for proper light. The set of tables overlooking the firing range were packed to the brim with various components and a blueprint concepts scattered throughout. A single porcelain mug sat, steaming from the hot coffee waiting inside. Zeldamar was grateful that it was still a little warm. Sugar packs surrounded the mug, far too many for the average zebra, griffon, or pony. Fortunately, Zeldamar was not the average zebra. “What we need is a little more of brainstorming,” Zeldamar said, her hoof edging towards the mug. Kirin’s magic swept it away and the zebra cast a scowl to her friend and assistant. Kirin raised her brows. “Um...Pardon me, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “And why not?” “For one,” Kirin started to clear the tables, keeping the mug levitated just outside of reach and rolling over two chairs for herself and Zeldamar. “That much sugar in coffee will kill you, assuming tampering with the alien tech doesn’t. Second, if you want to keep working on this stuff, at least get some rest and wait for the rest of the team to wake up so we can all help out.” “Seriously?” Zeldamar hopped up on the seat, spinning slightly before she stopped herself. “The sooner we figure this out the better.” “It’s just an overheating issue with the enchanted gems we’re using.” Kirin lowered the mug and Zeldamar quickly grabbed it, taking a sip. Or two. Kirin frowned. “So far, that’s all it is. We figure that out, we could have this stuff tested further. Hell, we might be able to ” “You could do without the covered barrel,” A voice called out. Zeldamar spun around, as did Kirin, searching for the source. Another zebra sitting at her desk looked over from across the facility. Her black stripes almost blended well among the darkness surrounding her. White bangs sprouted from her short cropped black mane, reaching down above her emerald eyes. She held a sweet grin, but was more focused with her work than what Zeldamar and Kirin were talking about. “An open barrel and more vents would do the trick, as would more focusing lenses. I'm sure you want it to be accurate.” “And you are…?” “I’d prefer to leave it at Samanya if you don’t mind.” She grabbed a standard issue pistol in her hooves, turning it and examining every angle of it. “I know it's not my place to snoop, but I saw your blueprints when I walked in.” “And?” Zeldamar leaned in her seat, ears swivelled in Samanya’s direction. “What did you think?” “I already gave my two bits,” She said. “I’m sure you two can figure out the rest.” Zeldamar looked at Kirin. As if reading her mind, Kirin’s horn lit up and a pen levitated before her, as well as a new sheet of blueprint paper. *** “How’re the ribs?” “They’re fine.” “Is the wound completely healed?” “We went over this already ma’am.” Doctor Redheart gave a second glance to the patch of bandages covering Solemn’s side as if to see if everything truly was alright. The pain had subsided days ago, but the aching from every small movement still took some getting used to. She turned to Overnight Vigil. “She’ll be fine. Luckily for her, the armor took in most of that hit.” The white earth pony looked down at her clipboard before looking Solemn over one last time, as if she were still injured in some way. “Do you eat well? Breathing any issue? Anything wrong that I should know about?” “Nothing,” Solemn answered. Her mother’s lips shifted to the side, but remained quiet all the same. She felt like a filly being taken to a doctor’s appointment. Again. She appreciated her mother’s concern, but each day she visited the medical bay, she had insisted on essentially shadowing Solemn while the doctors did their occasional checkups and made sure everything in Solemn’s body was in working order. Ever since her first field operation, Solemn spent most hours in the medical bay where the nurses and assistants kept a close eye on her. The personnel were still unsure of how to properly treat the kind of damage the alien weaponry caused. So far, normal medical procedures worked just fine, but it was the aftereffects they were mostly worried about. Soarin had been sick for a few days, even after his predicted recovery time. The doctors were sure it had something to do with the alien’s weapons and not a fault of any of the spells or enchantments in the equipments. Luckily for Solemn, whatever ailments that befell Soarin never revealed themselves in her. “Alright,” Doctor Redheart said stepping out of the way of the examination table. “You’re good to go. Remember—” “Come to you whenever I’ve got a problem ,” Solemn finished. “I’ll be fine ma’am.” “You should be good to head back to your designated quarters.” Doctor Redheart perked her head up from her clipboard. “Back in the barracks I mean.” Solemn nodded simply, keeping herself from releasing a relieved sigh. She did not mind the medical bay at all, but she felt like a prisoner with free reign of the prison itself, although the moment she stepped outside, there would be trouble. “Just remember to take it easy for a little while too,” the doctor led the two unicorns out of the room. “At least until the aching subsides.” Solemn nodded again and watched as the doctor trotted down the cool blue hallway, following the curve of the walls. Despite the benches lined up against the wall with all the reading material on the stout, smooth circular tables, Rime took to leaning against the cold surface of the wall just beside the door to Solemn’s examination room. Her teal mane flowed freely, stretching down to her shoulders. “You know,” Rime said with a grin. She pushed herself off the wall and trotted over to the two. “You could have waited with me out here.” “I’m just making sure she’s okay,” Overnight said innocently. She put a hoof before her mouth. “Oh, I didn’t embarrass you did I?” “Well,” Solemn pursed her lips. “Not really. I mean, I don’t think so.” “Pretty sure that’s a yes.” Solemn gave her mother a coy smile. The group started down the halls with no clear direction in sight. It was something they had done often, as had many others who were stuck in the medical bay or just exploring all the facilities before somepony decided to send them back to their respective facility. It was something that had quickly become part of the morning routine for Solemn more so than for Rime and her own mother. The ambient blue lighting and the rubber mats on the floors that followed the curve of the corridor. There was a quiet bliss in the wide halls of the medical bay, coiling around in its wide circular shape for reasons Solemn could only theorize. She imagined that the medical bay was centered around a massive rocky pillar which held up most of the underground network Initiative Headquarters was nestled in. Parts of the pillar had to be hollowed out to allow for hundreds of rooms the facility seemed to have. The coolness of the air made Solemn feel like winter had finally ended and spring was finally there. “I’m going back to my quarters if you two don’t mind,” Overnight said, motioning with her head towards the lobby doors. Meticulous mechanisms sealed the double doors, unravelling and sliding apart with soft hisses and turning gears as they opened, allowing a group of workers to enter, chatting amongst each other. “My back is killing me right now and I could do with some sleep.” “We’ll be in the mess down here,” Solemn responded. Her stomach grumbled in satisfaction, as did Rime’s. “I guess I’ll see you later? Do you need help getting back?” “I’ll be okay.” Overnight brought Solemn in for a quick hug before walking past the double sliding doors. Rime and Solemn continued down the halls in silence. The mess hall in the medical bay was often quiet, save for the clattering of the assorted pots and pans in the rear of the kitchen. Rows of glossy white tables with equally spotless benches settled on either side. Vents hung high on the ceiling and the walls gave way to the occasional morale boosting posters, often depicting a hazy black figure clad in armor standing in a backdrop of stars (Welcome To The Initiative!). Each of which was faded, some even covered behind planted ferns and shrubs. The left side was home to a counter stretching down most of the wall, ended by a door leading to the kitchen. As Solemn edged closer to the counter, she took note of the ponies serving the food; doing so with little evidence of enjoyment. Their faces were blank as they put together hayburgers and slapped fries and mashed potatoes on the plastic trays, working like an assembly line before the line of ponies at the end of the counter took the trays and wandered off. Solemn thought about how dreadful it must have been to have a job like that. A part of her was grateful for being assigned to something a little more exciting, if it was a little bit life threatening. “Wish there was more variety with the food around here,” Solemn admitted, taking a tray in her arcane grasp. “It seems like yesterday they were serving the same thing.” “Probably because they were.” Rime took hold of a tray packed with everything on it. “Any ideer wher’ t’het?” Solemn scanned the tables. There were plenty of spaces to sit, but she spotted Lone sitting by himself, rubbing his neck and wincing as he swallowed down his water from a clear glass. It was another part of the routine Solemn found herself in since arriving at the medical bay. Lone was unique company. She often let him do most of the talking since she could not understand most of what he talked about and he liked to keep his muzzle deep in books. She started off towards the edge of the table where he sat. “Rime, Solemn,” He nodded weakly. “Thought you got tired of me. Eh..It’s nice to see you too Rime.” “Doctor Redheart had me called in a little later than usual,” Solemn answered bringing her tray down across from the charcoal stallion. Rime dropped hers harshly against the table. Lone winced from his reaction to the sudden noise. He raised a hoof to his neck and rubbed. “How’s...uh...how’s the neck?” “Drier than the moon,” He answered. “At least I sound a bit more badass when I talk though.” He proceeded to exaggerate his voice, deepening it as low as possible before breaking into a coughing fit. “Well, you get the idea,” Lone said, still coughing between his chuckles. “How about you? The ribs doing alright?” “Doing better than yours, I’m sure,” Rime joked. “Still doesn’t make sense to me. Same armor, same weapons, yet my armor craps out on me, but Solemn’s takes all the damage.” “There was a wall,” Solemn said simply. She was not so sure that it made much of a difference in the end. According to Swift, Lone had been out in the open, nearly strangled to death by some ‘floating metal squid thing’ when he was shot. Solemn had the cover of the alien ship’s outer hull, despite it falling apart when she was hit. Still, more of the armor was damaged. She still had the damage on her body to prove that it happened, but she gave it a few weeks before it would go unnoticed even by herself. Solemn had her doubts about using alien alloys for armor, but she figured that the scientists would find out some way of making it work for ponies. She would hate to have to be the one to field test the armor though. “By the by,” Lone said, taking a bite of his hayburger. He looked at it with disgust, drawing slices of onions out and tossing them down on his tray. “Don’t know if you’d care for it, but Cherry was—” “Don’t care.” Rime cut off. “Even if it was an apology?” Lone tried, shrugging a shoulder. “Might not be the brightest pony, but let’s be real here, he’s been hanging around some of the craziest loonies from the Griffon Empire.” “He doesn’t belong here.” Rime took a bite of her burger. “I’d be surprised if he makes it out of the next operation. He's gonna get himself or one of us killed” “With the captain training him with the other rookies in the Proving Grounds?” Lone sipped from his water, recoiling before putting it down. “Huh...Warm. Uh, anyway, Aegis is kicking ass down there from what Swift told me.” “Good. Maybe that’ll put some sense in him.” Solemn cast a worried glance to Rime, but she was too busy staring down at her food. “Maybe. Fifty bits says he’ll stay.” “Are you two serious right now?” Solemn shook her head. Lone and Rime stared at her innocently, as if there was nothing wrong with what they were talking about. “You’re not actually going to place bets on something like that are you?” Rime and Lone exchanged glances. Solemn could see it on Rime’s face; the consideration. “I get he’s...different, but aren’t we supposed to—” “I’ll let Aegis sort it out.” Rime decided. “I don’t want to think too much about that idiot.” *** The labs were quiet during the night, troublingly so for Twilight. Were she not the Commander of The Initiative, she would have spent every waking moment in the general research facilities. Starlight led her to a small gathering in a corner of the facility lit by the single beam of light on the ceiling above the ponies: Flim, Flam and Applejack. The screens lit up around them cast a soft glow against the walls and components resting behind them. “Right there!” Starlight pointed her hoof at the display screen, tapping it repeatedly, lost in her own excitement. “See that?” Twilight stared at it, then at the ponies around her, some with more excitement than others. She turned back to the screen and squinted, scratching her head. “What am I looking at?” The triangular structures floating before her on the computer screen did nothing more than just glow their yellow hue. There were hundreds of them in the background, spaced apart by microscopic miles, just floating around in space, glowing faintly as the screen display focused in on just the one. It flashed, a small spark of electricity coursing through it while the thicker rims released what looked like smaller forms of the already microscopic specimen. Twilight took her sights away from the screen and looked towards the division heads. “This—” Starlight pointed a hoof at a separate screen showing the same machines, although closer together. “—is what those canisters in Vanhoover were holding! We initially cracked them open and took samples of the crystals inside—” “But it turns out,” Flim continued. “That the crystal structures were just a ruse!” Starlight looked at him with a raised brow. “Not exactly. Technically speaking, these small cybernetic machines are what comprise most of those crystals. Sky Lance found that they aren’t just mechanical, but actually partially organic as well!” “With our team’s analysis,” Flam spoke, trotting to another screen. The machines lined up and brought themselves together, opening up and glowing with more intensity as they created a bridge between two unknown structures. Electricity coursed through each machine trailing and coursing between each other. Twilight assumed it to be some kind of simulation. “We believe these machines are capable of bridging the gap between machine and organics!” “If we had access to a specialized facility,” Flim broke in. “and further research, we can cybernetically augment our soldiers without the use of unicorn magic! Ponies like the great Air Strike who has so courageously volunteered for our advanced prosthetic program won't have to be magically charged. We’ve even dreamed of a kind of ‘exo-suit’ of sorts that interfaces with the user’s body!” “Exo-suit?” Twilight asked. “Imagine for a moment,” Flam raised his hoof, eyes glistening as he thought of his sales-pitch. “Our soldiers are crippled on the field, surrounded by the enemy and on their last legs! Whatever are they to do?” “But out of the blue,” Flim underwent a similar motion as his brother. “A pony or griffon clad in a superior form of armor; a cybersuit that thinks and feels just like an actual biological body, able to withstand the impact of enemy fire without so much as a drop of blood comes and saves the day, decimating the enemy with unparalleled firepower!” Starlight rolled her eyes. “Ugh! Don’t listen to that nonsense. MY teams in Biology could easily develop ways of using this material to genetically enhance and perfect our soldiers on the field. We’d be able to replicate the aliens’ genetic adaptations!” “So we’d be more like them?” “Yes!” Starlight composed herself and cleared her throat. “In a way. You see, the soldiers will still retain what makes them...well, them! We’d be altering what we already have to work with. We’d use the machines to connect the alien materials.” “Are y’all crazy?” Applejack finally voiced. She trotted between the three ponies, disapproval apparent on her face as she stepped closer to Twilight. “You can’t seriously be thinkin’ ‘bout playin’ with this stuff do ya?” Twilight remained silent. “Oh come on Twi! We’d be givin’ up what makes a pony a pony, or..or what makes a griffon a griffon with all this stuff. We’d be no better than the things we’re fightin’ out there.” “It’s not like that Applejack,” Starlight asserted. “It sounds t’me like y’guys are fightin’ fire with fire.” Applejack sat against the cold metal floor, her right hoof running over the red band around her upper left hoof. Twilight wished she had not spotted it. “We’re s’posed t’be fightin’ them aliens, not tryin’ to be like ‘em!” “Ponies, please!” Twilight looked at the group of ponies before her. “Just give me the respective files and I’ll figure this out sometime later. I need to consider where to put all of our resources, or if I even should. Have you all at least agreed on a name?” “Granted the feats we would be able to accomplish, “ Flim spoke first. “The way the machines can easily meld together, not only with machine and flesh—” continued Flam. “But also create a genetically superior soldier in almost every way,” Starlight added. “They’ve taken to callin’ this stuff—” “Fuse.” Each pony said in unison.