Deep space Rendezvous
24 October 2551 1300 Military standard time
Deep Space
The UNSC Commonwealth was one of, if not the most decorated ship left in active duty. It had been one of the first to fight the Covenant in space, supposedly holding its own against a Covenant ship of almost equal size (an impressive feat considering fleet engagements with the Covenant were only considered even when the Covies were outnumbered three to one by larger ships). It then went on to fight in some of the biggest battles of the war. Not as a major contender, but it was there nonetheless. The ship had such a long and hard history that Captain Michael O’Neal was proud to be her last commander. By the same measure, he was also somewhat insulted that the old warhorse’s last mission before being scrapped for parts would be to go pick up one of ONI’s lost toys.
They had gotten a lock on the probe’s beacon almost as soon as they had arrived. The pickup technique was a standard affair used on small vessels whose thrusters had malfunctioned, and the crewmen who would help carry it out waited with the bored anticipation of people who had already seen just about everything that could go wrong. Everyone else had vacated the hold, which was now open to the vacuum of space, the probe now clearly visible out the large, open hatch.
As the probe drifted into the open hold of the ship, someone noticed that it had a hanger-on that had been hidden on the far side. “Hey Sarge, I think I found something.”
“What is it? Covenant?”
“If it is, it ain’t no Covenant I’ve ever seen. Looks more like a glowing horse. I think one of the sensors got caught in its, er… mane.”
“Sam, Jake, get a couple of rifles trained on it. If it so much as twitches, shoot it.” After another minute or so of maneuvering, the probe was secured to the floor with thick cabals. The job was remarkably easy despite everyone taking pains to avoid the strange being that had apparently decided to hitch a ride. “Aright Captain, package secured. Feel free to repressurize the hold. Also, it seems we have picked up a hitch-hiker from it. Should we space it, or put it in holding?”
“What kind or hitch-hiker? Is it Covenant?” the captain replied.
“Unsure. It looks like a white horse,’cept it’s got wings, a horn, and the weirdest mane and tale you’ve ever seen. The stuff’s the consistency of Silly-Putty™, three or four different colors, and it’s got this blowing-wind effect going on.”
“Put it in cold storage. ONI will love to have a sample.” The blast doors that separated the cargo hold from the void outside closed and with a hiss the atmosphere was vented back into the room, though gravity would take a few minutes to be restored. Almost immediately, the horse stopped glowing.
* * * * * * *
When Princess Celestia woke up, the first thing she realized was not that she was completely weightless. Nor was it that she was surrounded by strange creatures in an unfamiliar environment. The first thing she realized was that there was not nearly enough air in her lungs. Her deep, noisy inhalation was accompanied by a chorus of “Oh Shit!” from half a dozen mouths, immediately followed by a series of sharp cracks and painful impacts on her side.
Focusing magic in her horn, she sent a wave of force in the general direction of her assault, and was rewarded with more panicked shouting, particularly the phrase “Hold your fire!” shouted with authority. When she finally decided to open her eyes, she was met with a scene almost as alien as Discord’s rendition of Ponyville. There was metal everywhere, particularly behind her, where she found her mane attached to the machine Luna had found. Scattered about the very large room were half a dozen apes in strange full-body suits. They gripped ladder rungs affixed to the walls as if they had no idea which way was down.
With a start, she realized that she had no idea which way was down. She wasn’t falling, but that was because she wasn’t moving at all. She was just floating there, perhaps three feet from the nearest surface. That must be what those ladders are for. They’re for the apes to move around on.
glancing at where she had been hit she could see several nasty welts along her side, most already sporting large, often-overlapping bruises. A few of them were even bleeding. Whatever those apes did had managed to inflict actual damage on her. Looking around again, she saw that two of them weren’t holding on to the ladders, but floating around as though stunned with strange, boxy devices slowly drifting from their reach.
She could practically feel the fear and suspicion coming from the others, so she decided to explain her situation and hope they would understand.
* * * * * * *
Sargent Muller got over his shock surprisingly quickly, and was already trying to explain what was going on while requesting reinforcements with heavy weapons. He had just finished when the horse spoke. “Please, do not be afraid. My name is Princess Celestia, and I have apparently gotten somewhat lost. If you would be so kind as to assist me in returning home, I will see to it that you are properly rewarded.” Her voice, as it was almost certainly female, had a kind authority that seemed to be designed to sooth and reason. It was like she was talking to a child, and the effect was rather insulting to Muller. Particularly since she had just been hit by half a clip of assault rifle ammo and taken out two of his men from almost fifty yards away.
“Shut up.” Those two words seemed to completely stun her. The effect was compounded when multiple doors around the hold opened up, releasing a dozen men into the room, each of which was armed with what any peacetime operation would have considered “excessive firepower”. “I don’t care who or what you are.” He continued speaking, more so that the new arrivals would not simply start shooting than to inform the intruder of anything. “You are under arrest for infiltrating a military vessel and assaulting military personnel during a time of war. You will be taken into custody until your sentence or trial date can be decided. Any attempt to resist will be met with lethal force.”
The “princess” just stared at him with what he assumed to be incomprehension, even as men approached to bind her with improvised restraints which were little more than some steel cable left over from restraining the probe. She didn’t even flinch when they roughly yanked her mane off of the probe. The two troopers she had knocked out were already coming back around, and damage to the probe from stray rounds was purely superficial, so there were no loose ends to tie up there. Escorting the prisoner to the brig was uneventful, as she remained silent throughout, and even transferring her from Zero-G to Normal-G went smoothly.
* * * * * * *
After a few minutes of floating and being pushed along, a brief, dizzying ordeal as her weight and direction came back, and a few more minutes of walking, Celestia reached what she assumed to be where they kept prisoners. It was a long, fairly wide hallway with a series of doors along one side. She was taken to a door about halfway down the hall, which when opened revealed a room that would have been just big enough for one of the apes to live in with bare comfort. Compared to her regal frame, however, it was hardly big enough to move around in.
before leaving, one of the escorting soldiers (for it was certain that was what they were) spoke to her. “Sorry if the accommodations don’t quite fit. You’re the first non-human prisoner we’ve ever managed to take intact.” He seemed genuinely sorry, if barely, and moved on to a different topic rather quickly. “So what do you eat?”
“What?” The question had caught her off guard, as it was the first time anything here had shown any interest in her well-being, aside from simply not killing her. That thought chilled her to the core. These… humans had weapons that could harm even her, and they could no doubt kill her if they truly wanted to. Facing the possibility of death was not something she did very often, and the fact that the humans were so impersonal about it made it even worse.
The one who had spoken, however, didn’t notice her inner thoughts, as he simply asked again. “What do you eat? You know, for food? We don’t have a cryotube big enough to stick you in, so we have to keep you awake for the trip back to Reach, and I don’t think you can go two weeks without eating. So what can you eat?
She hadn’t understood most of his explanation, but she realized what he was asking her. “Oh, fruits, vegetables, flowers, baked goods; really I can stomach anything organic except meat. And the room will do for now, just, please answer one question for me?”
“Sorry, but prisoners get food and board, no questions allowed. We’ll be heading into slipspace in a few minutes, and your first meal will arrive shortly after that.” With that, she was ushered into the room, and the door was sealed behind her. For the first time since she had arrived here, Celestia had time alone to think without the humans and their weapons.
Her first thoughts, of course, were of home. I hope Luna’s okay. She was never able to raise the sun on her own, but she’s smart. If she can keep her head together, she’ll manage it. Oh, I hope everypony is all right. Twilight will be worried sick, and with the wedding coming up …
Her thoughts were interrupted by a quick feeling of acceleration. Then came a sensation she remembered from when the human’s machine dragged her through its portal, though instead of pain it was followed by a low-key humming that seemed to simply exist without any source. Soon enough, a slot in the door opened up and a tray with a plate of dry salad and a bowl of water was passed through before the slot was closed again. This all served to remind her of her own situation.
What are these Humans? Surly any race which has become that powerful should have reached some form of harmony, yet so far they have treated me with little more than suspicion and barely restrained aggression. The one in charge even mentioned war.
Are they some sort of great aggressor, like the shade that attacked my sister? No. If they were, they would have killed me outright. Clearly they are at least capable of peace. This all is so strange… I must think on it. At least they have given me two weeks. That should be plenty of time.
The meal tray was removed half an hour later, and another was offered approximately eight hours after that. She never caught a glimpse of her jailors in that time. The whole thing was operated as though they couldn’t trust her not to attempt an escape of some fashion at those times, even though there was nothing aside from her own manners to keep her from magically forcing the door open at any time. The only reason she did not, aside from a self-admitted fear of the humans’ weapons that alone would not stop her, was the fact that that would be a major breach of what little trust they had offered her.
Instead, she waited, thought, and ate when food was offered (since it would be rude to turn down a free meal, whether she needed it or not). Aside from the food, she received no contact from the humans for the duration of the trip, and her thoughts wandered to and fro, always ending back at the enigmatic humans.
* * * * * * *
UNSC Commonwealth
24 October 2551 1400 Military standard time
Location: Slipspace
“So let me get this straight. This thing was apparently dragged through slipspace for five days, left unshielded in deep space for hours after that, absorbed half a clip of assault rifle rounds like they were paintballs, knocked out two trained marines from fifty yards away, and then politely asked for directions?” The ONI spook assigned to the Commonwealth was staring at Sargent Muller with his usual impassive look replaced by one of near-complete incredulity. Captain O’Neal was also present at the debriefing, and it was him who the spook then spoke. “Keep it in its cell; no one is to contact it or respond to any attempted contact from it. Aside from scheduled feeding, everyone is to ignore its existence. And before you object, captain, this is an ONI matter: that thing arrived with our probe, so we decide how it’s handled. Got it?” The captain added a curt nod to his angry glare, and the debriefing was over. As they left, Muller could have sworn he heard the spook mutter exasperatedly, “This just keeps getting stranger and stranger.”
* * * * * * *
Outpost Epsilon
31 October 2551 1700 MST
Viery Plateaus, Reach
Most of Reach was celebrating an ancient Earth holiday today, and had been in some fashion for most of the week. While technically the UNSC military did not allow for holidays, someone in the system had apparently decided that this was the perfect day to deliver a very important shipment to Outpost Epsilon: weapons. For the past few weeks, various prototypes had been cycled through the outpost for testing. Harness-mounted heavy-weapons-systems were an early success, but aside from the awkwardly long sniper rifle which got away with an enlarged trigger similar to the rocket launcher, most firearms needed a complete reimagining. Clips onto which existing gun models could be latched ended up with a frighteningly high rate of misfires. Guns with enlarged triggers were impossible to fire while standing, as only one limb was free instead of the standard human two, though the sniper rifle, designed to be fired from a prone position anyway, was given a pass.
The design that was eventually settled on more resembled an arm cannon than a traditional firearm. It was completely integrated into the right foreleg of a combat suit, and was jointed to allow a normal range of movement. To be fired, you had to hold your foreleg completely straight to align the barrel and firing chamber, and then twist your wrist clockwise to pull the 'trigger.' Some weapons even had a variable rate of fire depending on how far you twist.
Aside from some minor accuracy issues, the main complaint was that once put, on it was rather difficult to take off. While the production model had a firing chamber that could be removed and replaced with a different model, effectively allowing a soldier to carry several different "guns" at any one time, switching them out was still too complex a process to preform while dodging bullets. This also required a greater standardization of ammunition, since the barrel could not be switched out with the chamber. Though this new weapon had a slot into which a blade could be fitted, there had still been no way to make sidearms, like pistols and sub-machine guns, which could be used by the "ponified" personnel
Beyond the arrival of new equipment, there were a few points of interest concerning the abilities of the ponies themselves. Rainbows were accidentally discovered to be spicy enough to be considered chemical weapons. The normal ponies possessed ridiculous strength and endurance, and pegasi could literally kick lightning out of clouds, though, as far as anyone could tell, they were doing it by blatantly ignoring the laws of physics. In the shadow of all this, the unicorns seemed down-right pitiful, and were probably getting a little bit resentful because of it.
* * * * * * *
Author's Notes:Finally. The first meeting between Equestrian and human. So much for first impressions...And no, Princess Celestia doesn't get vague prophetic visions on a regular basis. Only in strange situations, such as when captured by a strange civilization in another universe. And they only come when she's asleep.
RETCON: The not-really-prophetic-because-it-doesn't-show-the-future vision has been removed, because it doesn't actually mesh with what I'm going to do. Instead, we have a special delivery for Outpost Epsilon. And before you ask, no, I don't know if the interchangeable firing chamber thing would work in real life. It works here because ponies. Deal with it.
As always, Please review and offer feedback so mistakes are avoided in the future.
Disclaimer:Pain described by the princess is to be considered relative to her point of view. Just because getting sprayed by assault rifle fire feels like getting hit by paintballs to her, doesn't mean it will feel like that to you. Reader discretion is advised.
Post-revision notes: Do I really need to do these for every chapter I revise? It’s not like anyone would really notice a few details shifting.