//------------------------------// // 17: An Alien's Idea of Subtlety // Story: Friendship: Beyond Equestria // by law abiding pony //------------------------------// In the middle of the new pediatric clinic, Twilight Sparkle lounged on an exam table watching Sawbones performing standard maternity tests on her swollen belly. The newly minted observation room was small, and still smelled of fresh paint fumes that the air conditioning was struggling to filter out. The bare cement floors lacked the tiles that would one day cover them, and the countertops still had rough edges as the construction crews were in a mad rush to get the basics in place. Sadly, the exam table didn’t even have the wax paper that it normally would have as those were on short supply even in the main sickbay. The room did have at least one good thing about it: the window. Twilight could see a few clouds racing inland from the ocean wind, and granting a surprisingly good view for a common observation room. “You know, doctor,” Twilight started in a playful voice, “you keep insisting on personally seeing me every time I get a checkup, and I might think you have a thing for me.” With thinly veiled amusement behind a mask of professionalism, Sawbones looked away from her belly to meet Twilight’s eyes. “I would never violate the code of professional conduct in the hospital, my illustrious princess. Outside of the clinic is an entirely different manner,” he added with a smirking wink before slipping back into full doctor mode of warm bedside manner. “As for you two though, everything looks healthy. The foal should be due any day now.” He gave Twilight a stern warning frown. “Which means I can’t allow you, as your physician, to let you go scampering off with Alf to fetch a sword.” “Can’t say I didn’t expect it,” Twilight replied with little disappointment. “But I figured Alf might be the kind of person that would feel better if my excuse for not joining him came from a doctor as well.” Sawbones hummed in agreement. “He wouldn’t be the only one, that’s for sure. But in a tangentially related topic, it still surprises me that your bump is so comparatively small.” He studied the pregnant alicorn with a fascination that was rewarded with a chuckling laugh out of Twilight. “Well, doctor, I may be a lot larger than the average pony, but my foals are all normal sized.” With a short self-deprecating laugh of his own, Sawbones pulled his eyes away from Twilight’s belly. “Fair enough. Looking at the pictures in your file is one thing, but to witness it first-hoof is another.” He pulled back to collect his thoughts. “Given your size and experience, I’m sure the birth will be rather easy for you… compared to other mares at least.” “Glad to hear it.” Twilight pulled herself off the table. “Is there anything else, doctor?” Sawbones hummed aloud and made a show of giving physical commands to his personal display. “Now that you mention it. You mentioned last night that we’re waiting for a gamma ray signal from Alf’s god or some such.” Twilight’s face flushed red at being reminded of the romantic night, but her logical mind identified Sawbone’s tone had not wavered from being professional. “Did I? Well, yes, that’s true. I’ve already got our satellites in place across the globe waiting for it. Why do you ask?” Sawbones gave her a mildly confused eye, but quickly shifted to one of patience. “Are we sure it will be safe? It should go without saying that ionizing radiation is very dangerous, especially with so many new mothers coming to term soon,” he punctuated by pointed at Twilight’s own baby bump. Smiling in both understanding and shared concern, Twilight absently rubbed her future child. “Every structure in the colony larger than a shed is heavily shielded against any radiation, aside from the greenhouses I suppose, but Alf said we should be watching out for a signal. Not some sort of major threat. That would defeat the purpose of wanting us to go to the source.” Being one of the few with the security clearance to watch Alf’s confession of the vision, Sawbones felt his concern was centered on emotion rather than the facts. “And yet we don’t really know what this Rea person considers a signal. Maybe his kind are naturally immune to gamma rays.” “Even if they are, the biosphere isn’t,” Twilight countered patiently. “So unless Rea is willing to cause damage to the ecosystem…” Twilight’s speech halted after remembering how desperate Rea sounded by Alf’s account. “Would a being that lived entirely on the astral plane even consider that?” Sawbones asked, mirroring the question that ran through Twilight’s mind. “Tell you what. I’ll put out an order for all work crews who are about to be parents to take the day off. They’re due for a break enough as it is.” Sawbones breathed a sigh of relief, but didn’t let all the tension bleed out. “What of Commander Spike’s expedition to the west?” “Jaybird transports are equipped with mana shields. They can be configured to repel such radiation if need be. Trust me, we’re prepared. But again, I’m not expecting anything anywhere close to that.” Sawbones gave a self deprecating grin. “Well, you know me. Always worried about everypony’s health.” Close to an hour later, a door swished open in the Command Center, allowing Twilight Sparkle to canter inside. Within, most of the twenty operators were chattering away quietly as they provided satellite oversight for several military operations in the northern mushroom forest where Prism encountered the giant wasps. Spike was out in the field with the rest of the platoon, riding aboard one of the military air transports known as Albatross. Several other transports carried a platoon’s worth of soldiers. In addition, each Albatross carried racks of Firelancer robotic warriors under their bellies. Lastly, well over a dozen combat drones provided air support for everyone. Twilight looked up to the wall mounted screen giving a distant bird’s eye view of the assault force heading north west in the dead of night while a massive swarm of wolf beetles was congregating in one of the valleys. Several long scars ran through the forest in the wake of the wolfbeetles eating their way through the foliage to their current location. All of the mushrooms had been consumed as if by locusts while large chunks were missing all throughout. Twilight stepped towards her throne, “Voyageur, assessment.” The AI spoke as she sat down. “The migratory swarm has continued to show signs that it is forming a nesting ground ten miles south of the dig site. Zoological evidence warns that a nest of this size could have a feeding ground that overlaps designated miasma research sectors in the marshes here.” A quarter of the map segmented itself off of the primary satellite display to show the scattered and abandoned cleansing machinery surrounding the xenomass pools in blue with a large orange circle blanketing the entire area. “That’s bigger than yesterday’s forecasts,” Twilight said rhetorically. She scowled at the data. Guess I have no justifiable cause to veto Spike’s operation. We need to find someway to mitigate that corrosion. If we don’t we may never dislodge that nest during the next miasma outbreak. Twilight frowned deeply as she remembered Spike’s sale’s pitch, ‘This whole planet is one big Everfree Forest. Better to curb this swarm now than to let those beetles harass our citizens and farmers.’ Just having this operation is bad, but the timing makes it worse. That gamma signal Alf talked about should be going off any second now. Assuming nearly dead gods are punctual. No sooner had she thought that a loud alert sounded. Both Twilight and most of the operators looked up to find an orange and black flashing radiation warning symbol on the wall-screen. “Alert! Radiation spike detected planetside,” Voyageur announced as the AI commandeered half of the situation map to refocus on nearly a quarter of the planet away. “The colony was impacted by a gamma ray burst. Declaring Condition Orange for all personnel.” Twilight freaked a little. “A full on GRB?!” she said to just make sure she wasn’t hearing thing. “Just how much radiation are we talking here?!” The live picture of the planet revealed a second large pulse that spanned the entire globe. “Ten years worth of radiation has flashed from an undetermined point on the Feladan continent. Zeroing in now.” Twilight all but leapt on the radio button on her personal display and dialed in to the whole expeditionary force. “Attention, all personnel. We’ve been hit by two… make that three orange level radiological events! Initiate radiation shielding until further notice!” Radio chatter for the military exploded in questions and hasty orders to get turned back to the colony while the Jaybirds’ onboard shields flared to life. Voyageur’s voice echoed throughout the entirely colony, warning everyone who had wandered outside to return the colony. “Voyageur, isolate the source of that GRB!” Twilight chided herself as she watched her subjects race to safety from the numerous cameras that littered the exterior of the colony. Thanks to heeding Sawbone’s concerns, there were only a scant few ponies outside, save for the pathfinders and military. So much for Rea being discreet. On another corner of the globe, Admiral Thorn was personally overseeing the construction of a second aviary. He was standing on a balcony that was isolated on the side of the mountain. The aviary was of concrete that was displeasing to the eye, but expediency was needed over aesthetics. The only exception to that was a mural honoring heroes of the past and the shipwrights who built the griffin seed ship. Thorn fully expected the structure to be completed to exacting specifications, so his real purpose was to observe the mural as it was made. The team of artists, experts hand-picked by Thorn himself, toiled away under his watchful eye. Like the ponies, griffins had their own version of a personal display, via slimmer glasses. When the radio in Thorn’s ear chirped, he lowered his glasses to see his adjunct Gleaming Scythe thump her shoulder in salute. “High Admiral, the Equestrians are closing in on that throng of xenomorphs. Did you want a live feed to your HUD or are you returning to the war room?” Thorn thought about it for a long moment. “…We’re not at war with the ponies, so there’s no rush. Just be sure to record every aspect, every detail.” Scythe didn’t bother hiding her mild confusion. “As you wish, Admiral.” Thorn remained silent, but kept the channel open, prompting Scythe to think for a reason why she hadn’t been dismissed. With Thorn’s watchful eye observing both the artists and Scythe work to follow his will, the half griffin-changeling hybrid eventually came to a conclusion. “Watching art take shape in person is a form of art in of itself.” “Go on,” Thorn answered simply, but allowed a modicum of approval through. Scythe resisted the urge to scratch her head and bought herself time by making several adjustments to the spy satellite. “The art of war is difficult to follow all at once, with so many pieces moving at the same time, while a painter works with one brush at a time.” Thorn waved a claw for a little more elaboration, making Scythe furrow her brow in mild frustration. “Since we’re not at war, watching the ponies is not a high priority?” “There we go.” Thorn rewarded his protégé with a satisfied half-grin. “We must focus on construction and growth, Adjunct. War can wait since no one is pressing for it, and it would serve no productive purpose as of right now.” He spotted an aide bringing him a bottle of water and snatched it up with a thankful nod. “Just as watching a commander use his forces can tell us about him, watching our people toil in daily life can be equally useful in telling far more about them than reports, misleading polls, or worthless yes-birds.” “A leader is not a leader without knowing those he commands,” Scythe recited from memory. “Very good, Admiral. This delay will at least buy the cryptographers time to decode their radio chatter. Do you think Twilight and Spike will change their tactics much?” Thorn knew she was fishing for wisdom, and was more than happy to share it. He took a mini tea bag out of a coat pocket and dropped it into the water bottle and started shaking it. “Oh I should think so. They’ve already made a departure from Luna’s outmoded tactics by utilizing drone soldiers. Out of all of them, I have found Twilight’s adopted brother to be quite the interesting opponent.” “They couldn’t have been here for more than a year,” Scythe replied with mounting curiosity. “You think they were designed before leaving the homeworld?” Thorn’s reply was cut short when klaxons wailed throughout the entire colony with Thorn’s display flashing the universal radiological warning symbol. An automated voice, called out in between wails of the sirens, “Danger! A Gamma Ray Pulse has been detected. All personnel are to proceed to designated shelters immediately.” Thorn didn’t catch the voice starting to repeat the warning as he abandoned his tea and fled towards the closest building further down the side of the mountain. He didn’t have to go too far and joined in the crowding workers rushing inside a roof access door. The griffins demonstrated remarkable order in their flight down the stairs, deeper into the protection the warehouse provided. Through the still open call, Thorn witnessed Gleaming Scythe giving rapid fire orders to all the soldiers and civilians too far away from the colony. Shortly thereafter in the pony colony, Twilight Sparkle’s eyes darted to and fro over the list of personnel who had been outside of the colony. Thank goodness the pathfinder rovers can shield them from radiation. But the same can’t be said for everypony out there. “Sawbones,” she called over the radio. “How are things in sickbay?” There was a long delay, just enough to pull her attention back and worry over him before he at last responded. “Not as bad as I thought it’d be, Princess.” His face popped up in her display to formalize the call. “I just examined the five ponies from greenhouse A1, who were exposed to three pulses before making it inside, and oddly enough, they show absolutely no sign of radiation damage, let alone sickness.” That gave Twilight such pause that her brain and logic short circuited. It didn’t help the blank look she was giving him when a nurse rushed to Sawbone’s side to speak. “Doctor, Hard Tack from the solar farm’s tests came back. He has next to no ionizing radiation in his system. Are you sure the standard environment suits are only certified to shield against normal background levels?” Twilight physically shook the funk out of her brain. Although the nurse’s head did not join the call, she had heard the mare all the same. “They are,” she said to answer for Sawbone before addressing him. “Are you actually suggesting every last one of our sensors are malfunctioning all at once?” Sawbones shared a few words with the nurse before she scampered off back to the burn unit. “More like these GRBs are not what they seem. But I’d feel a lot better if I could examine the soldiers upon their return since they’ve been out there the longest.” Twilight rubbed her chin while furrowing her brow. “You may not have to. Voyageur, analyze the power draw of the albatross’ shields. There should be spikes of demand during each gamma burst.” “Processing…” Having heard one half of those conversations, many of the operators in the command center were just as on edge as Twilight was. “The shields were activated after the second burst. Power consumption during such time has remained steady. There are no recorded spikes of consumption during the bursts.” Twilight grumbled at the mixed messages, even as every sensor rattled off another major warning right as she grumbled. As if to derail her thoughts, one of the operators called out to her. “Princess, I’ve managed to isolate the source of the GRBs!” “Show me!” Twilight responded curtly as the wall-screen zoomed in on an expansive desert clear on the far end of the planet. Large sand dunes covered the landscape like ocean waves, save for sporadic weathered rocky outcroppings. In time with the gamma bursts, a one hundred diameter circle of sand jostled and was pushed away from the center, creating a miniature crater. The operator switched away from visible light. “Infrared reveals a sizable hotspot some twenty meters below the surface. Whatever it is, it stretches just over a kilometer. We’ve got what looks like either some flat ship or an actual facility down there.” “Why would a bunch of Alfs build on top of rutting sand!?” cried another operator. Twilight narrowed her eyes in contemplation. “Call it a hunch, but I don’t think the forerunners were going to be using it for very long. Voyageur, is there any residual radiation in the surrounding plants and soil?” She half expected the answer he’d give, but a ruler had to be sure. “If these bursts are real, there should be plenty.” “Scanning… Nothing beyond normal background levels. Should I stand down further radiation alerts?” Twilight Sparkle grumbled in sheer annoyance. Hell of a way to say hello. “Go ahead.” She turned to the chief operator overseeing the military campaign. “Tell the Commander to finish returning home. There’s no telling what other effects the source of these pulses will have on our sensors. The natives can wait for now.” Twilight addressed different operator. “And relay those coordinates to the pathfinder team, they’ve got a long flight ahead of them.” Down near the Pathfinder garage, three shuttles were parked while a throng of ponies, a changeling, and one alien loitered awaiting the end of the radiation alarms. Aside from the yellow spinning lights, the audio warning had been squelched, allowing everyone to chatter amongst themselves. Without knowing how far the signal would be from the colony or what dangers might lurk in the area, a sizable contingent of soldiers were prepped and ready to go, just in case. Sitting on one of the wall mounted couches, Prism Flash and Firefly lounged next to a stiff royal changeling and a brooding Alf. Alf busied his mind by scrutinizing the soldiers who were exercising that age old skill of hurry-up-and-wait. Given the alien’s chilly exterior, the two pathfinders were just fine focusing on the changeling that felt rather out of place. “I still can’t believe momma let you come along,” Prism said with a mix of bemusement and concern. “We’ve got no idea what or where the blades could be.” Praxia tried her best to put on an air of self-assuredness by sitting up straight and keeping her voice calm. So glad ponies don’t have emotion radar. “Sensei always says that a ruler must know her subjects to rule them with care and understanding. Plus some danger is actually beneficial, so that you can function more effectively during a crisis. To quote Commander Spike, ‘It’s good for you. A big explosion every so often keeps the mind sharp.’” That got a laugh out of both pathfinders with Firefly having to wipe a tear from his eye. “Yup, that sounds like the commander alright. I remember my first explosion and hearing one of the Commander’s famous pissed off speeches. Best ten minutes of Boot I had.” Prism had resorted to covering her laughter with her hooves. “You mean the one where Grass Head accidentally ignited the latrine’s methane separator? And sent crap flying so far it smacked Spike in the back of the head?” Praxia’s eyes widened in shock as the two ponies redoubled their laughter with Firefly cackling even harder. “Yup. He was so pissed off I swear his eyes were on fire. You could hear him tearing Grass a new one over a mile away.” Praxia scrunched her muzzle trying to think of some similar story to share. But it was the large throng of soldiers possibly within earshot, and unfamiliar company that stayed her tongue. Even as the two pathfinders continued to regale tales of mounting absurdity, embarrassment at sharing such a story shrank Praxia into her suit and couch. With the others losing themselves in more exaggerated stories, Praxia eventually pulled her eyes over to Alf. It was only now that she noticed he was watching two unicorns chatting while gnawing on some granola bars. Praxia’s ears folded back at the prospect of smoldering disgust. “H-hello, Alf, you don’t look so well.” The morose alien was slow to respond, and the question had not gone unnoticed by the pathfinders. All three of them watched Alf as he fidgeted with his hands. “It is… strange. To see an act that I know used to be abhorrent, and yet now seems normal. Mundane.” Alf wrestled with himself to try and find words that didn’t come. In the end, he was spared having to say anything further when Twilight’s voice boomed over the hangar’s intercom. “Now hear this. The destination of the Blades has been located. Coordinates are being uploaded to your individual displays. The full expedition team is required. Local mission command is granted to Regent Praxia. You light out in ten minutes.” Praxia steeled herself and gulped down the lump in her throat. Can’t be too different than leading a work crew. Thankfully for her nerves, the troops knew what to do, and were filing into the trio of large transport aircraft that could hold two main battle tanks a piece. Currently though, that cargo was limited to two rovers and the camping equipment for the expedition. Prism and the others boarded the smallest transport of the bunch which held more holographic mapping space for mission planning. Right in line with Twilight’s strict schedule, all four aircraft roared out of the hangar and began to climb in altitude to cruise their way to the Blades. Prism and Firefly ended up sitting next to each other while Praxia and Alf sat on the opposite side of the passenger cabin. Firefly nudged Prism once the initial rush was over. “Hey, PR, this was kinda bugging me ever since I saw the list of equipment we were bringing. How does your mom know how much to pack when we didn’t know where we’d be going?” A prideful smile crossed Prism’s face as she leaned back in her seat to get comfortable. “Momma once told me of a lesson that took her over a hundred years to take to heart. ‘When it comes to certain things, plans are worthless, but planning is everything.’ She woulda just downsized the crew if the place was closer.” Twilight’s holographic head manifested in the center of the cabin. “Alright, everypony listen up. There are some details about the site that you’ll need to know heading in.” Admiral Thorn all but burst into the War Room where a circular table bore a hologram of a desert. Standing around it was Gleaming Scythe and two of Thorn’s top advisers. The room was well lit thanks to the evening sun pouring through the large windows. “Report!” Gleaming and the others snapped to attention with the guard at the door barking, “Admiral on deck!” Thorn waved the formality off with a curt wing gesture, allowing the half-changeling to answer. “Admiral, the false gamma waves are originating from this location in the eastern continent.” One of the advisers pressed a series of buttons on the side of the table to cause the hologram to visualize the gamma pulses as ripples in the air. “The computer was having difficulty cutting through the interference the pulses were causing so I borrowed the data feed from the Equestrian satellite to show us this-“ As she talked, the two advisers gave her a stare of abject shock while Thorn gritted his teeth in controlled anger. “You did what?” he said in a low icy threat. Gleaming had just finished displaying the underground facility on the map when Thorn grabbed her by the collar of her uniform. Her shock finally matched that of the advisers. “You hacked the Equestrians after I gave my word that we wouldn’t?” “I-it wasn’t a hack, I swear it!” Gleaming mewled under his frosted fury. “The transmission was barely encrypted, we just listened in.” Pulling back the snarl in his beak, Thorn released her back and proceeded to smooth his uniform back up. By the time he was done his neutral expression had returned. “I will deal with your reprimand later, and that of your accomplices.” He addressed one of the advisors with a return to his usual calm demeanor. “I will not use that data, strike it from the servers.” “At once, Admiral.” The advisor glanced at Gleaming Scythe who did a miserable job recollecting herself, but she managed to stand straight. Turning to regard the landscape on the table, Thorn spoke towards the other advisor, “Captain Flechette, what do we know about the source of these gamma pulses?” Flechette chewed on an unlit cigar as the craggy aged griffin scanned the table. “Other than its location? Not all that much. These pulses may not be actual ionizing radiation, but whatever it is, it’s wreaking havoc with our other sensors. Infrared, radar, and a few others are getting ghost signals and false returns. I strongly suggest all activity outside of Rodomir be put on hold until we can stop the signal for good.” Thorn hummed approvingly. “I take it, it was you who ordered two squads from the Jaegers to mobilize then.” “Aye, sir.” “Very good. We can’t let whatever this is, blind us for very long.” Thorn paused to think, narrowing his eyes at the puzzle before him. Gleaming Scythe was moderately shy, keeping to the edges of Thorn’s peripheral vision. “Computer, is there any movement coming from the Equestrians?” Instead of any verbal response, the map fragmented into two pieces. One stayed centered on the desert while the majority of it blurred as it raced across the planet to reveal the coastal colony. That which interested Thorn most were the two convoys, the military one that was still returning back home, and the new one that was only now leaving the airspace around the colony. The first adviser leaned in to speak, only for Thorn to wave for him to stop. His eyes shifted to Gleaming who was doing her best to stay silent. “What do you make of this, Adjunct?” With staying out of his sight no longer an option, Gleaming Scythe did her best not to dwell on unpleasant thoughts. She studied the scene more closely, hoping she didn’t miss any details. “The original army sent out is still returning to Elysium.” Getting into the groove of figuring out the puzzle, Gleaming grew more confident in her tone. “And this new force is by far too large to be a rescue party. I’d say they were expecting something like this to happen.” She looked to Thorn for approval. The group watched as she entered a few commands into the side of the table to draw a line between the pony colony and the gamma source. The new convoy was smack dab on that flight path. The admiral did not demonstrate any reply, approving or otherwise. “Brynhild?” The second adviser was a wire thin female that sported a rank that belied her young face. She eyed Gleaming briefly with contempt. “Judging by the fact that the first force is still retreating, it would seem the ponies have committed too many troops to properly secure the home front should it be attacked while both are out. Or, they could be suffering sensor glitches as well, and are not willing to carry out any action against the local fauna until the gamma situation is dealt with. I’d hazard a guess that their sensors are not as clouded as our own.” At last, Thorn nodded in his version of high praise. “Twilight’s profile indicates that she, above all others, over-engineers the sensors on anything she commands, and their use of true AI would give them the processing power to pierce the interference far better than we could. She can be quite predictable at times. In any event, we must act to silence these false pulses before they start doing something far worse.” Thorn focused on Brynhild and jabbed a claw at her. “I want you to lead a platoon and deal with this problem, with or without the ponies.” Brynhild thumped her chest in a crisp prideful salute. “It will be done, High Admiral.” With a nod of acknowledgement, Thorn turned his gaze towards Gleaming Scythe. The half-griffin appeared outwardly stony. “And you’re going with her, as her third.” “Third? But I-“ Gleaming caught herself before shoving any more of her foot in her mouth. “I-I am yours to serve, High Admiral.” Although Thorn was under no obligation to speak of his motives, though there were times when explaining oneself did more than leaving it unsaid. “You’ve shown a gap in your understanding of honor. The issue presents an apt learning experience for that failing. I expect you to follow the captain’s orders to the letter.” Luckily for Gleaming, her feathers concealed her reddened cheeks of shame. “As you order, Sir.” Satisfied, Thorn turned his attention back to the table, but addressed Brynhild. “You have two hours to get a crew together. I don’t want the Equestrians to have time to squirrel away anymore secrets of these precursors.” The flight across the world was more or less uneventful. The ponies’ aircraft flew too high for any local animals to even notice them, and the constant pulses of false gamma rays did not interfere enough to keep them from navigating away from hazardous weather. By the time they arrived on the scene, it was close to midnight, the two new moons granted little in terms of light. Flood lights blared over the sands around the source of the gamma bursts. Praxia rocked on her hooves a little as the craft came to a quick halt. She was scrutinizing a hologram on her personal display of the terrain with the outline of the facility below. “This layout certainly doesn’t look like a crashed ship. There’s only one story that I can see, not a series of decks, crushed or otherwise. But then again, the gamma interference could be washing out any sign of something deeper.” She directed her statement towards Alf who looked at her quizzically, not having a display of his own. “Are you sure Rea said it was a ship that crashed here?” Not being able to see the hologram, the beige colored alien rolled his shoulders. “Rea the Polite Judge views… viewed the world through the eyes of our people. It is possible she simply guessed.” Scrunching her muzzle in contemplation, Praxia returned her attention back to the hologram. “Well whatever this place is, we’ll find out soon enough.” She gave the place one last look before tapping four places on the map in a circle pattern. “Pilots, I have designated your landing sites. I want all personnel establishing base camp as soon as the ramps open.” A string of acknowledgements rang out followed by the transport lurching under Praxia’s hooves. Prism and Firefly exited the cockpit door and strode over to join the changeling. “That griffin air group is almost here,” Firefly announced with mounting concern. “The leader, Captain Brynhild claims they are not here to fight us, but I don’t trust her,” Prism cautioned with a hoof swipe. Praxia looked to the wall and plucked four helmets off, and gave them to their respective owners, even Alf who had pushed himself off the couch to join the meeting. “We can trust Thorn at least, since he gave us his word.” “But not everyone under him,” Prism paused as she slipped her helmet on before removing her display goggles. She waited a little bit longer as the system switched the display between the two devices. “Momma said someone was snooping in on our satellite comms. As if there was that wide of a selection of suspects.” Alf clicked the uncomfortable helmet into his environment suit. The comparatively primitive technology of the ponies left much to be desired in comfort to him. “Should I expect a fight?” The shuttle came to a landing with a soft red light signaling the air would be cycling soon. Praxia finished donning her helmet. “Yes and no. Just follow our lead and you should be fine.” “Do the griffins even know about this guy?” Firefly asked while jabbing a wing at Alf. After checking to make sure everyone had their helmets on, Prism Flash slapped the button to open the side-bay doors. “We’ll find out soon enough.” The opening bay door allowed strong cross winds to blow sand into the cabin. Shadows danced amidst harsh floodlights as ponies stormed out of the much larger transports. Praxia made landfall with her display already focused on the civic planning phase. She had a drop-down list of tent types and large equipment pieces outlined. Completely at home with planning out work camps, Praxia blended that experience with the added need for exterior protection from possible threats. With a few waves of her hoof and some motes of magic, the grey changeling outlined the best location for all the tents, automated turrets, power generator, excavation site, and a few other matters. These choices were uploaded in real time to the engineers and officers of the expedition who were quick to comply. As for Firefly and Prism Flash, the two pathfinders moved immediately to scope out the sand at the dig site and performing an inspection of the surroundings area for signs of dangerous fauna or flora respectively. As for Alf, who had no real job until the ponies made their way into the underground facility, he watched in silent heartache. The movement and sounds of the camp being assembled and ponies yelling back and forth brought back memories of the old shipyards Alf used to work at. He yearned to do something, to be useful in some meaningful way, but he held himself back. They have trained and coordinated to work together in their own way. Training I lack, I would just get in the way. The annoying idea that he had wasted the two days after his recovery in moping instead of trying to find a place with the ponies wormed its way in his thoughts. Assuming I shouldn’t just pierce my heart when I get the Blades. Firefly stood right in the center of the highest point in the facility. The sand between him and the future entry point was only four meters deep. “Flyswatter,” he announced to his six-wheeled rover, “Are we close enough to detect any real radiation?” Unlike Prism’s rover, Flyswatter did not have rotor engines, and instead had a more extensive sensor suite. Including ground penetrating sensors as per Twilight’s orders. “One moment good sir,” Flyswatter replied in a Hackney butler accent. The rover extended four prongs away from its main chassis on boom arms and shoved the ends into the moderately soft sand. The data feed went straight into Firefly’s display giving him every detail. This up close, the closest sections of the complex were mostly stone with metallic traces laced all throughout. Most importantly to Firefly, there was nothing to indicate any lingering real radiation. “Well at least the place isn’t too hot to go inside. But why exactly would anypony want to build with rocks when they got all kinds of super science materials?” The scanner picked up a multitude of structural breaks and fractures, with one of the closer ones easily being large enough to accommodate a pony. “Bingo. Boss Bug’s gunna want to see this.” Prism yawned sleepily as she rode atop Joe’s new rover body as she made the first patrol around the perimeter set by Praxia. The camp was nestled in the middle of two large rolling sand dunes. Aside from the harsh wind blowing across the twenty meter high peaks, there was nothing to greet them. Her brief yet harsh brush with the two gargantuan siege worms danced at the edge of her mind, brought along by mild similarities between the tall sand dunes and the broken ridge. A frigid chill of night desert air sent a shiver running down her back. “Joe, drop some seismic sensor stakes, would you? I don’t want to be worm food any time soon.” “Acknowledged, Pathfinder.” Prism watched as the rover drove on to plant more sensors as she looked for any tracks the winds might have spared, or animal droppings. Anything that might signal a potential threat. The bitterly cold desert night bit at her exposed muzzle, while her environment suit and armored duster kept her warm otherwise. There was little more than sand to greet her as the dull yellow, steel, and red maned pegasus. She crested the southern ridge to find nothing more than sand as far as the eye could see, except for one thing: lights. A collection of ten airborne lights were flying slightly off angle from the center of the pony encampment. When the lights failed to deviate away from the camp, Prism’s face soured into a scowl. ~“Hey, Praxia, it looks like the catbirds are wanting to talk face to face.”~ There was a brief pause before the hybrid changeling replied in a tense yet collected tone. ~“So I noticed. The princess said she’d come up with a plan of action soon.”~ Back at the pony colony of Elysium, Twilight Sparkle was only half enjoying her breakfast in her private office while Spike did the same across the desk. The fluffy pancakes and river of syrup couldn’t distract her from the ongoing report she was receiving from Voyageur. The AI had fabricated a holographic representation of the globe with three satellites, one of which was of griffin origin. “As you predicted, Colonial Princess, there was a zero point three lumen reduction in the lascomm between scansat alpha and commsat oh one. This reduction is indicative of known griffin interception technology code named: paperclip. This lasted over two minutes and five seconds during the time data of the burst source was being transmitted. My estimations bring the probability of willful interception to near one hundred percent.” Twilight calmly sipped some tea before waving the hologram away with a hoof. “Thank you, Voyageur, that will be all for now.” There was an electronic pop to signify the AI going back to passive observation. Eventually, Twilight gave Spike a mild scowl. “It looks like someone in Rodomir took the bait after all.” Spike jabbed a waffle with a fork to try and vent a little frustration. It was bad enough his operation had to be postponed, but now he wasn’t on the front lines against possibly hostile griffins. “So much for the High Admiral’s honor. Tosses it away when it’s inconvenient just like the rest of the Admiralty.” Twilight chewed on a bite of sunny side eggs, humming at the news. “I’m not so sure. As illogical as griffin honor can be at times, Thorn always stuck to his principles during the war. At least the principles we knew he subscribed to. Watching us with visual spying is one thing, but directly intercepting a laser transmission after he gave his word like that would be out of the question. He may run a tight ship, but I’d put money down that it was that changeling hybrid: Gleaming Scythe.” Spike halted in his meal to give her at first a puzzling look, but it morphed into one of understanding. “Yes… She’s his adjunct, so Scythe would have the clearance to both intercept and decrypt without asking anyone above her pay grade.” Spike gave Twilight a conspiratorial smirk. “You wouldn’t be trying to insinuate that her changeling half makes her less honorable are you?” “…I only mention this because you’re family, Spike.” Twilight collected her thoughts while taking a few bites of toast and eggs. These words did not come easily. “I had to work with Praxia very closely to prune such dishonest thought patterns out of her before they could cement themselves in her adolescence. I strongly suspect her mother’s direct influence in this, but I have no evidence. “As good of a teacher as I’m sure the High Admiral is, I doubt he would have been willing to do what was necessary.” Twilight glanced up at Spike who was giving her a half-frown. “There are times when a hard approach is required to curb such behavior, as well as soft times. Thorn doesn’t seem like the sort to take a soft and nurturing approach when it’s needed.” “Half an education is better than none.” At that, Spike let off an agreeable smirk. He let some tension go, and yawned while rubbing some fatigue out of his face. “Either way, I suppose you’re right. So then what’s the real angle in letting them eavesdrop if you knew it was going to happen?” Twilight scoffed and teased a lock of ethereal starry hair with a bit of magic. “Partly so they have some idea of where these false gamma bursts are coming from, and thus less likely to do something stupid. And partly because I want to take my measure of Thorn. I want to see if that honor of his holds up, now that he answers to no one but himself.” “Heh, alright.” Spike put his plate aside, dug into his pocket, and pulled out a plastic chit and clacked it onto the desk. “I wager an evening of babysitting the new foal in exchange for three of your hours at the VR suites that whoever did the hack, Scythe or otherwise, gets little more than a slap on the wrists and we get some token apology.” The conversation lapsed into silence. Both dragon and alicorn wanted to eat quickly before the food got any colder, and to give themselves something else to think about. They didn’t have long before Praxia’s freezing face appeared in Twilight’s display with flashing text denoting a priority call. With a few commands, Twilight expanded the call to include Spike before hitting the connect button. “How goes your little camping trip, Praxia?” “Sandy and cold,” she deadpanned while suppressing a frown. “There’s a griffin shuttle approaching that’s signaling it wishes to parley.” Twilight hummed expectantly. “I want a live feed of this, but I will leave the actual diplomacy to you.” Praxia’s breath hitched and her eyes went wide. “A-are you sure? I- I know I did okay last time, but-“ “And you’ll do fine this time as well,” Twilight interrupted with calming reassurance. Praxia bit her lower lip as Twilight continued. “Just remember what I’ve taught you, and don’t pull any punches.” Expanding the projected hologram to her forelegs, Twilight reached out and poked Praxia on the snout. Despite the hologram having no physical pressure, muscle memory caused Praxia to instinctively roll her nose a bit and hold her muzzle with her hoof. “I will, Sensei, thank you. But what should I do about Alf and the griffins?” Spike jumped up and circled the desk so Praxia could see him. “Go ahead and let him be seen. The Birds will see him eventually, so you might as well get it out of the way.” Praxia lifted a disbelieving eyebrow and looked towards Twilight for confirmation. When Twilight gave her a quiet nod, Praxia sighed to work herself up. “Well if anything, this should be enlightening, Commander. Over and out.” Praxia’s face disappeared with a video feed of close to two hundred cameras taking its place. Voyageur quickly reformed the multitude of videos into one cohesive 3-D picture, giving the two old souls the feeling of actually being there in the frigid desert night. Praxia felt isolated standing so far forward but she did her best to remain outwardly stoic. It'd be a lie if she said she wasn’t grateful for Prism Flash sticking somewhat close by with her father’s rifle primed and ready. The pegasus was also wearing a full face mask to hide her breathing ability. Oh geez, oh crap, ooooo no. Talking over a TV is one thing, but face to face?! Maybe I should call Alf over here after all so they have someone else to stare at. She wanted to look behind her for moral support from Prism, but she couldn’t risk it now. A hundred paces ahead, one of the griffin shuttles had come to a landing just a minute ago while the rest of the convoy landed much further back. The three figures disembarked and made their way close enough to be resolved against the shuttle lights. Each step was an agonizing wait for Praxia. It felt like not only the eyes of both nations, but that of history itself was bearing down on her. As for Prism, the wait between the shuttle landing and the meeting itself dragged on long enough for her mind to wander towards a brand new VR show’s pilot episode that started airing two days ago. I wonder… Are the writers actually serious about having a silent protagonist? They really need to work on their execution to make that work. The prospective alicorn jarred herself to the present when the three masked griffins came to a halt. Both sides’ helmets were as opaque, but upon reaching talking distance, the griffins were the first to reveal their faces via removing the holographic concealment. Praxia and Prism did likewise. Praxia’s personal display immediately started running the faces through the pre-seeding database the ponies had on griffin personnel, but didn’t need that added information to identify Gleaming on the spot. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised Thorn would send his Second. The fact that Gleaming stood to the left side of the front most griffin didn’t register in time. “Adjunct Gleaming Scythe, state your business here.” “She’s not quite an adjunct at the moment,” the center female griffin corrected with a disposition so sunny it caught Praxia and Prism off guard. Both of them turned to the newcomer who was waving a cheery armored claw. “Howya doing, Ponies! I am the illustrious Captain Brynhild, commander of this little expedition. Maybe you heard of me?” She glanced at Praxia and the other ponies for any sign of recognition in their eyes. After finding nothing but bemused stares, she wilted a little inwardly. “A shame, anyway this stony hunk of muscle,” she raised a talon to her right to point at a burly male griffin who had a gaze that could cut stone. His armored suit only added to his sheer presence. “Is First Lieutenant Daginfinn.” The truck of a griffin gave a very curt nod, allowing Brynhild to jab a claw at Gleaming Scythe. “Little Miss Honor Ruiner over here is in shame at the moment, and is my third. Honestly though, she’s just a glorified clerk.” She couldn’t help herself. Praxia tilted her head in sheer amazement at how bubbly the griffin was. Prism on the other hand, chuckled heartily and shouldered her rifle. “I like your style, featherhead.” Praxia blinked a few times and returned her head to a normal tilt as her brain rebooted. “That - ah - okay then. This is happening.” She cleared her throat. “You say my griffin counterpart is an honor ruiner?” Brynhild cracked a snide grin. “I did say that didn’t I?” She turned to leer at Gleaming Scythe who was forcibly keeping her beak shut before she said anything stupid. “Well our little Change Girl here thought it was a bright idea to take a peek at your satellite transmissions and decode it against the High Admiral’s standing orders.” Prism cocked an eyebrow at Gleaming. “So that was you, eh? I figured as much.” Halfway across the globe, a certain alicorn whooped at a dragon, “Called it.” Back at the desert, Brynhild casually paced in front of her two officers. “Now, as far as I know, the High Admiral can be a forgiving sort to those he sees as both useful and redeemable, and gosh golly gee willickers, I can’t say I disagree.” Gleaming Scythe stared at Brynhild in utter disbelief, not that the white feathered griffin cared to notice. “But as I’m sure you ponies can agree, actions have consequences now don’t they?” “I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Captain,” Praxia stated slowly. “If she was going to be punished, why is she here instead of in jail?” “Because that’s just unimaginative,” Brynhild dismissed with a swipe of a claw. “Nobody learns a darn thing from jail time except to not get caught next time.” Prism’s eyes lit up like spotlights and she pushed her way in front of Praxia. “Make her do a play or skit!” she half-demanded with a savage grin. “I always wanted to hear Griffin Opera in person.” Brynhild had stars in her eyes and clapped her claws together. “I love that idea! Let me run it by the Admiral.” “Do I get a say in this?” Gleaming Scythe asked finally breaking her silence. “I’d rather do hard time.” She backpedaled away from the Equestrians to argue with Brynhild. First Lieutenant Daginfinn thrust a meaty claw in front of Gleaming’s face before she could get any closer to his commander. “Only if the High Admirals wills it. Otherwise, stand down.” Standing in no position to countermand anything, Gleaming resorted to trying to burn a hole into Daginfinn’s visor with a spiteful gaze. As for Prism, who stood there with a mixture of smugness and no small amount of anticipation for some opera when Praxia shoved her face into Prism’s own. “What the rut was that!?” she hissed so no one else could hear them. Out of everything, Prism was actually flabbergasted at Prixia’s profanity. “Geeze, girl, what’s crawling up your feathers?” “B- W- Fff -ag - rr - Gah!” Praxia turned around in a circle out of sheer astonishment. “A play? Opera!? And I don’t have feathers!!” “You know the griffins and everypony are watching you flip out, right?” Praxia froze. Her haunted gaze lingered on Prism until the tri-maned pegasus poked a hoof behind her. Standing there in a line, were the soldiers she had called up earlier. Upon seeing they had her attention, each of them decided anything but her was suddenly quite fascinating and turned away. Being the changeling she was though, Praxia could sense the dense cloud of vicarious embarrassment so opaque it might as well have been a solid wall to her. The fur on the back of her neck stood up and her ears went flat upon the realization that she was close to the center of attention, and had just made a fool of herself. She might have collapsed into a pit of embarrassment had Twilight not squawked into both of their radios, instinctively jumping Praxia to attention. ~“I like that idea, Little Wing,”~ Twilight announced in a conspiratorial voice at Prism. ~“Making some friends with the griffins could go a long way.”~ ~“Ummm…” Prism’s face turned sheepish real quick from that praise. Twilight’s words gave Praxia the excuse she needed to focus on something other than her social faux pas. ~“That -uh - that wasn’t why I suggested that.”~ Upon hearing that, Twilight finally had her holographic head appear in front of both mares, bearing a confused look that begged for an explanation. Suddenly not feeling like her plan was a good one anymore, Prism rubbed the back of her head and gave a painfully fake grin. ~“W-well, after watching that griffin bug’s little chat with Praxia, Scythe sounded like the kinda person who was like, super giga proud of herself. So when leader bird over there asked for a suggestion…”~ Trying to find an excuse to separate herself from the conversation, Prism looked to the griffins, but they were all busy huddling together to speak with Thorn, and were currently ignoring the ponies. Praxia’s blank stare was replaced by a derisive grin. ~“So you want her to do a play just to embarrass her?”~ Prism said nothing further other than to giggle helplessly and shrug. Twilight squeezed her eyes shut and pinched her nose to ward off the headache that was well on its way. ~“This can still work. Try to make friends, or at least make peace with the griffins if possible, okay? Moving on. How exactly did you want to play introducing Alf to the griffins, Praxia?”~ ~“As quickly as possible!”~ Praxia announced as she whirled around and took a deep breath to calm herself. Yet her announcement was cut off by Brynhild who was stepping up to do the same. “Ponies, the High Admiral agrees to your idea!” Brynhild gave a flourishing bow pointed a wing at Gleaming Scythe who was stewing in her fur. “When would you like to have the opera? Soon I trust. It may take time to get inside whatever this place is, but not too long.” I’ve already made a fool out of myself, no sense in worrying about it now. Praxia nodded at the griffin commander. “That’s agreeable. But I suppose Gleaming Scythe should consider this an honor.” Brynhild gave her a bemused eyebrow lift with the half-griffin scoffing. “You’ll have to explain that one to me.” As they had spoken, Praxia had silently radioed Alf to come forward. The meter and a half tall alien made himself known after stepping passed the lines of equine soldiers. The griffin’s initial reaction was mild shock at seeing what looked like an armored hornless skinny minotaur. Their HUD’s visual scans however, identified the flatish face and second set of arms as no species native to Equin. “I present to you, Alf. A guest and friend of ours we found in a sunken ship. He’s also the one who led us here. More or less. You should be honored that you’ll get to be the first to sing specifically for him.” Alf dipped his head after coming to a stop behind Prism and Praxia. “I bid you greetings, warriors.” A shame I never asked how I should greet the ponies’ neighbors. Brynhild’s jovial mood evaporated at the sight of the alien. The same kind of alien that she and every other high ranking griffin had studied from the multitude of hieroglyphs at a dozen digsites. “My… my. So the elusive forerunners live after all. The High Admiral is going to have a lot of questions for you.” She turned her attention back to Praxia and Prism. “If we are the first ones to sing a song to him, then you ponies really have let yourselves go,” Brynhild’s good humor returned a bit. Prism tsked with a hint of annoyance and called out to them. ”Yeah well we've been busy. Besides, a song for a new friend and species requires a lot of planning and time. However I'm sure your bird bug can manage though.” Prism’s annoyance was quickly replaced with goading enjoyment. That very thought had not occurred to Gleaming Scythe, and made sense to her now. Upon seeing the hybrid getting hot under the collar, Brynhild caught on fast. “Oh I completely agree.” She gave Gleaming a mischievous grin the lines of which caused the hybrid goose pimples. “So… no pressure or anything.”