//------------------------------//
// 22: From One Life to Another 
// Story: Friendship: Beyond Equestria 
// by law abiding pony 
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Two weeks after the announcement of the ritual combat between alicorn and alien, the arena was packed with ponies and one ornery dragon.  Standing at the top of hastily manufactured bleachers, Spike surveyed the empty circular arena situated between the solar farm and Sparkle Science Labs.  Crowded bleachers and camera drones surrounded the granite tiled arena where holographic alien pictograms were scattered about in some order that he didn’t care enough about to decipher.

The arena was an open space, with the morning sun peeking behind carefully placed clouds.  The vast majority of the ponies present were abuzz with the spectacle to come—after all, it’s not every day that you get to see the power of an alicorn—and many of them were relishing the act of breathing unrecycled air. Spike rubbed his throat, wondering what it would soon feel like. With my luck it’ll be a constant nag.  Casting the thought aside for Future-Spike to worry about, he smirked at the civilians.  Almost a shame really.  Twilly’s going to have to restrain herself in such a small ring.

~“Commander, the weebles are moving south into the miasma swamps.”~  A stallion called Spike over his display.  Spike hummed in contemplation as video feed revealed a throng of wolfbeetles storming out in force.  Woof.  Glad those are headed our way.  ~“See if you can locate the alpha or at least the egg nest.  That’ll give Prism a good target when she sets out.”~

Spike barely acknowledged the obedient reply when Twilight Sparkle flew from between the eastern bleachers to land inside the arena.  The old dragon couldn’t help but to snort in approval at the lack of a respirator on her.  Sis always did lead by example after the Gelapo Incident.  I just hope the lab coats double checked their homework on this one.

He gazed down at the alicorn from his perch, who was in the middle of some stretching exercises.  Alf emerged from the opposite side, his hands and arms either clasped together or spread out in a gesture that Spike could only assume was ritualistic.  This should be good.







Standing on one leg with the other crossed over his knee, Alf muttered quiet prayers to his utterly silent pantheon.  Before the events at the temple, doubt, fear, and isolation had plagued him.  Doubt of his worth, fear of his fate after death, and the stark isolation of a recovering xenophobe being surrounded by candy colored aliens.

With his lower arms outstretched as if trying to catch rain, and his upper arms clasped around his chest, Alf ended the first set of prayers to invoke a prayer upon his soul.  “Hands relinquishing, hands receiving, I beg of you all, grant me your strength so that this bearer of your Spark may prove your power.  That your might is greater than a lone corporeal goddess.”

As with every prayer since Twilight agreed to the duel, no divine strength filled his body, no whiff of favor.  Nothing.

The ghost of abandonment tightened his chest, and his lip quivered.  But that was all he could give now.  Partially because he had wept in solitude, but mostly because hope stood right in front of him.  A new deity, strong, vibrant, and oh so very tangible, was willing to welcome him with open arms.

For a moment, Alf had forgotten he was still holding the Stance of Invocation.  With the expected lack of a divine gift, he dropped his hands and his raised leg and opened his eyes and gazed upon his future goddess.  To his eyes, Twilight was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  He dreamed of the moment he could look upon her with pony eyes, knowing his fate was secure.  However, his basking in Twilight’s divinity was marred by the butchered holy script on holographic display orbiting the arena.

The symbols and words were atrociously drawn, straight lines where slight curves should have been, crosses were crooked, and other imperfections that sullied the eye.  These errors were not by choice, far from it, but Alf couldn’t allow the ponies to correct them. Not even Twilight. There was no question; he had to be the one to write them. Anyone else would have nullified their purpose.  I can build ships, but I can’t draw a single letter correctly.  May Yaruda the Archivist forgive me in his next incarnation.

As Alf watched Twilight, he saw her gaze return to the present, a sign that she was no longer distracted by her personal display.  As if also taking the cue, the high pitched buzzing of an approaching drone prompted Alf and Twilight to start walking towards each other.

Both combatants reached the center with the drone not long after.  The drone stopped at shoulder height before projecting Voyager's avatar below it.  Alf tilted his head in surprise.  Instead of the bland featureless ponnequin he had seen before, the new avatar was now sporting a wavy teal and white mane with bright cherry red fur.  Alf would have shrugged the changes off as unimportant had he not spotted Twilight studying the avatar with greater surprise, along with just a hint of worry.  These ponies have finally gotten bored with bland cogitator entity avatars?  Took them long enough.

“Everypony,” Voyager announced with a noticeable drawl accent Alf found completely foreign.  “The Rite of Yageer is upon us.  Taday, Alf must demonstrate the superiority of the Pantheon ‘er else be wholly inducted into the Princess’ protection.”  Alf briefly cast his gaze around the ponies who had gathered in numbers that stunned him.  He noted many of them were muttering conversations lost to the buzzing shield pylons interspaced on the outside of the arena.  “Each combatant may select one weapon.”  The cherry red AI bowed to the princess expectantly.

Alf watched her recover an air of grace and pulled her horn circlet off and presented it to the drone.  “I’ll need only my hand gauntlets, Voyager.”

After grabbing the circlet in a claw, the drone and avatar turned to face Alf.  He gave a polite nod.  “The repulsion blade I requested.”  The avatar returned the nod as it summoned a second drone that was already carrying the weapon.

She's removing her mana regulator?  Unable to hide his confusion behind a furrowed brow, Alf enhanced his senses with a subtle handsign to see Twilight Sparkle, and was awestruck by how controlled her magical aura was.  Twilight always seemed to brim with power, as if she had mana running through her veins instead of blood.  Mana that was tightly controlled with what he had assumed was her horn circlet.  Yet there she stood, with casual regality, with her internal mana acting as if she had never removed it.  He felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck.  A fear that would have had him running if the fight was to the death.

Alf caught himself staring at Twilight and was only saved further embarrassment by the other drones arriving with his repulsion blade.  The instant the new drone presented the sword, Alf snatched it as tactfully as he could and turned away from Twilight under the pretense of giving the sword some test swings.

When he heard the clip clop of Twilight’s retreating hooves, he exhaled heavily and truly focused on his weapon.  He rolled the hilt in his upper left hand, finding it perfectly balanced, more so than he expected of such primitive manufacturing technology.  The air sang as he sliced the air, reminding him of dark days and lost causes.  May those perverted souls still wallow in Abandonment.

Gritting his teeth, Alf crushed the memory back by imagining hated enemies as helpless targets standing before him.  A perfect excuse to mask a few more practice swings before feeling like he was stalling.  Calling upon a built-in tranquilizer, Alf felt his nerves calm, his anger fade.  By the time he returned to his starting position, he wore a calm, almost serene face.  Focusing intently on the pony of his salvation calmed him further.

Dropping into a low stance with his legs apart, Alf held the repulsion blade across his midsection.  Augmenting his senses further, he made a simple improvement to his hand gesture by adding his lower right hand to it.  At this distance, Alf’s eyes focused almost exclusively on Twilight which allowed him to see Twilight’s mana now starting to flow faster within her.  Alf dimmed the magic senses so he could better see her face, and found her seemingly hesitant on what posture to adopt.  I will have to let her act first. My blade should dissuade her from melee at the start.  That will give the blade time to work.

Alf grinned inwardly in satisfaction as Twilight lowered her posture with her wings flared out and brimming with so much magic her feathers shimmered in the sunlight.  A shield spell perhaps?  That would leave her horn for offense… perfect.  Alf tightened his grip, waiting for the word to be given.

As if reacting to an invisible countdown, Voyager’s avatar made a downward chopping motion with a leg.  “Let the Rite of Yegaar begin!” it yelled before the hologram vanished and the drone rocketed away.

Alf refused to be distracted, and kept his gaze locked on Twilight.  The instant the drone passed through the arena’s shields, Alf was dismayed to see the magic building up in Twilight’s body snap to a dark forest green.  With a thundering crack of broken stone, the alicorn kicked forward with a single mighty flap of her wings fueling her speed.  Twilight was blindingly fast, giving Alf barely enough time to angle his sword to meet the lavender glowing metal fist raised above her head.

Alf strengthened his stance, only for a circular wall of lavender to appear in front of him.  It disappeared as fast as it had come, but there was no Twilight behind it.  Alf didn’t even have a second to register this when a fist hammered the back of his skull.  His face slammed into the tiles, and the blade was sent clattering to the ground.  Pain lagged behind it all as Alf tried to make sense of what happened through his suddenly sluggish thoughts.  He went limp as his mind tried to fight its way through frozen molasses.

And there Alf would have stayed were it not for his engineered body.  Blood vessels were reformed, damaged tissues knitted back together, and his brain recovered from what little damage his skull had not absorbed.

By the time Alf’s thoughts roared back to normal speed, he spotted Twilight’s shadow lording over him.  Keeping his eyes mostly closed and staying still, he waited until Twilight came closer.  The instant she dropped down on all fours, Alf grabbed her gauntlets and yanked her down as hard as he could.  He held his other hands up and called the blade.  The sword flew to his hands, allowing him to sweep the blade horizontally at Twilight.

The mare yelped out of stunned surprise and instinctively teleported away before her front legs could be amputated at the knees.  Alf struggled to rebalance himself with the sudden lack of anything to grab onto.  Muscle memory kicked in and he used the blade’s inertia to swing his body around and plant his feet on the ground.  He shot up to a standing postion in time to spot Twilight again. The alicorn was some distance away, and in the midst of rebalancing herself, giving Alf a few precious moments to recenter himself.  O She of Purple Radiance.  How I wish Those of Us with Open Eyes could have had you as an ally.

When Twilight was stable on her hooves again, Alf called out to her as she turned to face him.  “You will need to do more than brain injury to rob me of my waking hours.  Those Who Defy were quite good at strengthening my body.”

“Is that so?” Twilight purred with a dangerous air that produced that cold sweat again.  Twilight wore a grin he had seen many times on soldiers eager for battle.  “Then show me.”

The flash on Twilight’s horn was the only warning Alf got.  In an instant he felt the air displaced behind him.  A robotic fist backed by earth magic hammered at his shoulder, only for Alf to spin and allow the attack to roll off of him.  Twilight’s following right hoof was caught by the flat of Alf’s blade, with both gloved left hands bracing the weapon at the point of impact. Twilight’s hardened face of determination morphed into one of approval, making it hard for Alf to keep his face outwardly calm.

A flash and Twilight was gone.  Alf spun to face behind him, barely elbowing the incoming fist aside in time.  Twilight blinked to a different angle, yet again countered by the blade.  Blink, parry, blink, dodge, faster now.  As Twilight rapidly became more and more elusive, Alf struggled to dodge or deflect the flurry of earth powered fists coming in at all angles.  A feral grin was all Alf could see of Twilight’s face as she appeared, attacked, and blinked out again at every parry or dodge.

Twilight’s teleports grew faster, and her punches harder at the excitement.  Alf’s blood roared in his ears as fear gripped him, making each move more desperate.  To the side, to the blind spot, back to the side, down low, up high, it was all Alf could do to predict or blindly dodge. Alf narrowly deflected a jab from the front, and began recoiling his blade as soon as Twilight teleported, only for her to remain in the same spot with a right hook.  The punch nearly collapsed his left ribs had he not rolled with the hit.  Before he could even think to counterattack, Twilight blinked out.

Twilight soon became a blur of light and magic that Alf could no longer follow.  A late parry was punished by a glancing hit to his thigh, nearly dropping him to one knee.  A follow up wing slap hit Alf’s face like a steel wall.  He lost his balance and tried to stabilize himself, only for Twilight to blast him with a point blank kinetic bolt.  The attack sent him spinning and he smacked into the arena’s shield.  He dropped to his hands and knees, his sword flying out of reach.  Alf coughed blood onto the tiles and tried to brace himself for the coup de grâce.

But it didn’t come.

His healing body was struggling to fix him as fast as it did last time, but Alf managed to stand up and look behind him.  Twilight had not moved from where she had punted him, save to stand normally.

“Am I going to have to get even rougher with you before you capitulate?” Twilight called out with concern tinting her voice.

“You need not concern yourself, She of Divine Lavender, I am more than some mere kicking sack.”

“You’re not doing a very good job of convincing me of that,” Twilight shot back as she waited for him to telekinetically collect his weapon.  The disappointed frown on her face lifted slightly when Alf waved his fingers for her to continue the fight, sans one sword.

Twilight’s horn lit up with a portal materializing above her.  Its twin opened up right under Alf’s feet.  He fell through, and found Twilight’s horn glowing like the sun with the next spell.  Alf hastily made the hand sign of the Steel Field.  Twilight’s spell disintegrated with the stored mana exploding into a cloud of light.

Twilight growled more out of annoyance than surprise or pain.  Alf grabbed at Twilight’s horn with his only free hand, using the flash as cover.  The rush he felt at an assured victory died in the same moment.  The very idea that he could actually win stayed his hand, freezing him in place.

Alf’s stupor was broken by Twilight grabbing his offending hand with both of her own.  “Word of warning, Alf, that only works on unicorns.”  Twilight’s robotic strength pried Alf’s fingers off her horn one by one.  Alf reacted by kicking out at her, only to be met by skin as hard as rock and nearly breaking his foot in the process.

Twilight swung Alf like a lasso once before flinging him clear across the arena.  Alf flipped over and landed on his feet, skidding across the tiles.  Alf noted dismally that his sword was still too far away.  She won't give me the time to recall it. Twilight followed his gaze towards the weapon and grabbed it by the hilt with her magic.  

“I was wondering when you would finally strike back at me, Alf.”  Twilight floated the sword to Alf and presented it to him hilt first.  “Whatever you may think of me, I would hope by now you don’t see me as some delicate flower.”

All around him, the crowd murmured in response to the display of raw power, many of them still reeling from the sheer ferocity of it.  Only the veteran soldiers sat there with knowing hard faces.  Both they and Spike watched with pride as well as quite a few flashbacks of the war.  Many of which they could have sorely done without.

Alf hesitantly reclaimed the weapon with a gracious bow.  “I have never fought a living god before… knowingly at least.”  His calm exterior broke into a quivering fear of insulting her.  “I do you and the pantheon an injustice.”

Alf didn’t need to be a pony to see the mounting disappointment on Twilight’s face, something that matched his mood as well.  I misread her completely.  When we first fought, I thought for sure Purple Brilliance was a spellweaver that focused on ranged tactics, yet all she does is attack close in.  Alf ground his teeth at the sight of the repulsion blade in his hands.  I should have gone with a Defiance Shield or a Nullifier.  At least then I could have put up a worthy fight.

“I don’t like it Alf,” Twilight called out, pulling him back to the present.  “But the rite isn’t over unless you get one good hit on me...  a better one at least.”  Twilight leapt into the air with her horn glowing once more.  “Perhaps you’d fare better against this!” Twilight started firing a torrent of weak mana bolts, peppering Alf like a hailstorm.

Finally cracking a weak grin, Alf jabbed the blade’s tip into the tiles and knelt down behind it.  Twilight’s flurry of bolts zeroed in on the target alien, filling his view with all encompassing lavender light.  The homing bolts reached their mark only for the glowing sword to part the sea of spells like light wrapping around a gravity well.  The shield behind Alf exploded in color as it held fast against the princess’ onslaught.

Alf squeezed the hilt and twisted it so a large number of bolts sank into the sword rather than be reflected away.  After half a minute, Twilight halted her attacks.  The tiles behind Alf were scorched black, the shield behind it wavering yet standing strong.  All but the bravest or most trusting of ponies had entirely evacuated that section of the stands.

Alf had to blink to clear the spots from his eyes.   Once he could see again, he saw Twilight charging up another spell.  “I must thank you for the gift, Colonial Princess,” he spoke just loudly enough to be heard.

“A gift?” Twilight inquired as she charged a new spell.

“Yes,” he replied with the first feeling of legitimate calm he felt all day.  “You were indeed better off attacking me close in.”

“If you say so.”

The whispered reply had not come from Twilight standing at the other end of the ring, but from directly behind his ear.  It took him a long moment of internal debate to decide whether the whisper was real or a trick.  In the end, it was the booted hooves plowing into his back, smack in between his shoulder blades, which answered the riddle for him.

Twilight had bucked Alf with such force that he went sailing across the arena.  He careened through the image of Twilight still channeling a spell, only for that alicorn to break apart into motes of mana upon impact.

Alf rolled across the floor, but he still had the strength to arrest his tumble by stabbing the tiles to slow down.  Twisting a different part of the hilt, Alf saw a few blue lights flicker to life on the hand guard.

Using magic to project her voice so she sounded conversational among all in attendance, Twilight gave Alf a warrior’s command.  “It is not real combat if all you do is defend.  Merely losing more slowly.  If this ritual combat must demonstrate the power of your Pantheon, then come at me with all of their strength.  Do not hold back simply because of who I am!”

Alf hissed in pain as he dragged his sword back up to a ready position.  “We both know my gods are dead… my faith in them is useless now.”  Now that his sword was charged, much of Alf’s fear bled away into indignation of their abandonment of him.  “But I can still use my strength.” His pained expression gave a hint of smugness.  “And my strength lies within fabrication.  Observe.”

The glow of Alf’s blade shifted to a dull blue.  He adopted an aggressive stance with his large sword heaved above his head, and he started to swing down in a slicing gesture.  Twilight prepared herself for a spell of some kind, yet mid-swing, Alf vanished.  He reappeared behind and above her.  She reflexively blinked out as the repulsion blade carved a divot into the tiles.  Twilight reappeared a few feet away and turned to face him.  “Since when did you know how to teleport?”

Alf grinned widely and chuckled as he wrenched the sword out of the tiles.  “I don’t.  But you do.”  In a flash, Alf grasped the hilt with all four hands and made a vertical swing before blinking from existence.  Twilight traced the lines of his teleport spell and grabbed the blade with both hands the instant Alf rematerialized.  Metal screeched against metal as alicorn-backed earth strength wrestled against Alf’s augmented power.

Twilight found herself having to give more magic into her hold than she expected, making her smirk in excitement.  So much so, she dumped in much more mana into her gauntlets, and the blade started to groan under the strain.  

I can’t win like this.  Alf teleported away and reappeared on the other side.  In his haste, Alf misgudged the distance and his swing only met empty air.  He stumbled from the failed swing and shot a look back at where Twilight was just in time to see her blink out.  The sound of wings upon the air drew his gaze up towards the center of the arena.  

Twilight was hovering with her horn awash with magelight.  “Color me impressed, but you’ll have to do better than stealing my teleports.”

The glow on Alf’s blade crackled after he made a swing, only to stay where he was.  He abandoned his stance to stand normally and leveled the blade tip straight at Twilight.  “How about your bolts instead?”

The air around the repulsion blade writhed before a blizzard of mana bolts roared out of the blade.  The torrent of magic raced to strike at the alicorn.  Twilight allowed the first barrage of magic to strike true.  Within seconds, dozens of bolts pounded at Twilight with enough force to plaster her against the arena’s shields.  Alf immediately halted the assault by cutting the air away from her.  As the last bolt hit her, Twilight fell only long enough so her large wings would not strike the shield in mid-flight.

“Did I tell you to stop?” she chided while wiping some blood off her lip with a hoof.

Sensing the trap, Alf regained his sense of victory.  Not of combat, but of the afterlife.  She let me hit her…  Adopting the same pose as before, Alf unleashed a swarm of mana bolts.  This time however, Twilight responded by giving a heavy flap of her wings that pressed her against the shield dome, but also created a mana-charged tornado that blasted straight through the barrage.

Alf went wide-eyed at the storm coming straight for him.  He dropped the sword and made a hasty handsign directed at the spell.  A blueish wave of anti-magic shot out, obliterating Twilight’s counterattack.

Diving straight through the center of the counterspell, Twilight shot towards him like a meteor.  Alf scrabbled to pick his sword back up, only to feel like he was suddenly dunked inside a pot of honey.  The world around him blurred past as he was caught in a familiar trap.  A chrono field.  She found a way—

He never got a chance to finish that thought.  The world around him slowed back down to normal speed only for him to feel Twilight’s presence directly behind him.  Twilight used her weight and legs to force Alf to the floor.  She pinned his arms against the ground with her wings.   Finally, she telekinetically grabbed the sword and held the blade across his neck.  “Do you yield?”

It took Alf a few seconds to recover from the time dilation and suddenly being pinned on the ground.  When he finally registered the predicament he was in, Alf gave a relieved curt smile.  “You truly do fight with the grace of divinity.  The pantheon recognizes your superiority.”

Twilight climbed off of him, allowing Alf to stand.  “The rites have been satisfied. Know that I will serve you faithfully for all time, my goddess,” Alf proclaimed while bowing low.

“I have no doubt you will,” Twilight replied with a satisfied smile of her own.

Yet Twilight’s gaze did not linger on Alf.  He watched her turn her eyes skyward to a seemingly random point in the sky with a sly yet almost respectful smirk.






Far away, nestled in the wintery peaks of the Steel Toothed Mountains, Admiral Thorn sat in his office with Gleaming Scythe standing nearby.  The breathtaking view of the wintery peaks was obscured by a wide satellite feed of Twilight Sparkle staring almost straight at his satellite with the same smirk he remembered her wearing on old battlefields.  Though the battle was over, it played back again in the admiral’s mind.  He steepled his claws, his face a mask of concentration.  With a snap of his claws, the camera zoomed in on the alicorn.  Twilight’s attention was brought towards Sawbones as he offered her a water bottle.

“I must say, Admiral, that alien was rather disappointing,” Scythe stated with mild annoyance.  “Twilight Sparkle had to let herself get hit for him to do any damage.”

Thorn hummed as he scrutinized the replay. A thin grin tugged at the edges of his beak. “Twilight may have had her public reasons for doing this with the alien, but she was also doing this fight to send us a message.”

Gleaming Scythe grumbled as she tapped the satellite feed to zoom in on Twilight’s face. “She wants us to know the ponies remain one step ahead of us. None of them are wearing rebreathers.”

A barely audible hum escaped the admiral.  “Slightly, yes, but only because we are not doing parallel development, and she assumes that we are.”  He pointed at Twilight and Sawbones.  “They may not have masks on, but every last pony is wearing full eye and ear protection.” He tapped his chin and lapsed into brief silence. “Either Twilight Sparkle has overplayed her cards, or purposely let us know that our alien friend might not be so useful to the Equestrians as originally feared.” Thorn took a sip of his alcohol-less wine before toasting at Twilight on the monitor.  "Ever the diplomat."

Gleaming’s wings vibrated out of shock and concern.  She did, however, keep her face more controlled, an act made easier while the griffin distracted himself.  “How can you be so sure?  Assuming this duel reveals that this Alf character is a warrior instead of a scientist or some other expert, even common soldiers know how their weapons work.  He could give them critical ideas on how to develop them.”

The sword was the first thing that popped into Thorn’s mind, but he dismissed it almost as quickly.  The enchantments on that weapon were nothing special, I believe Princess Luna used a similar weapon. Thorn stood up and came closer to the video feed.  With a few finger commands he had the camera zoom back out and then focus on several of the holographic pictograms surrounding the arena.  “Tell me, Adjutant, do these look familiar to you?”

The hybrid changeling stiffly marched around the back of the admiral to get a better look at the pictures.  “…They do actually.   If I’m not mistaken, these are some of the hieroglyphics we discovered on the excavated ruins.  A rather crude recreation though. Almost childlike.”

“No doubt drawn by the creature’s own hand,” Thorn added with a small approving nod.

Gleaming was quick to sense that minute bit of pride, making her feel slightly more worthy of being his right hand.  And one step closer to being named his successor. Although she dared not show it in front of him, she felt a burst of delight after dreaming of that moment.     

Thorn's eyes gleaned in satisfaction as he commanded the computer to replay the fight as a whole.  “The xeno is a warrior, but he is no soldier, and certainly no academic."  His eyes danced over every holy symbol the camera caught.  "A priest or scholar would have made sure those sigils were absolutely perfect.”  Thorn hummed wistfully as his mind churned.  “Due to the fight’s ritualistic nature, I’ve come to the conclusion that the xeno was the only one allowed to write the sigils, seeing as Twilight Sparkle would have never abided such imperfections.

“In addition, he made no effort to even look at them the entire time he was preparing for the fight.  As far as the xeno was concerned, the imperfections either didn’t matter, or more likely, that he was ashamed he didn’t have the skill to correct it and simply had to hope they were good enough.”

Gleaming noticed a satisfied grin cross the old griffin, a face he wore every time he was solving a worthy puzzle.  “Are you suggesting the ponies just so happened to pick up some basic laborer or homeless being?”

“That is my assessment, yes.”  Thorn reversed the camera feed to play the fight over again, this time focusing solely on Alf.  “The creature is obviously religious, but has very little in the way of refined education in the matter if he can’t even get the written word correct.  And if he has a poor education on a matter so basic and something he cares for deeply enough to convince Twilight Sparkle to duel him in ritual combat…”

Gleaming was prepared for the admiral trailing off, knowing he wanted her to finish the observation.  “Then the possibility he knows anything of real value is minimal at best.”

A deeper nod of approval this time, giving the changeling a mix of relief and pride at yet another passed test.  “Precisely.  I’d wager he is an unskilled laborer.   A factory worker may see the machines in front of him, but will never know how they were built or work, doubly so for the complexity a star spanning empire would command.”

Gleaming Scythe didn’t like dismissing the alien.  “He may not have anything useful to give the ponies for now, but what about information he could have picked up on before being trapped in that time bubble?  Things like good mining locations or a possible cache of technology that survived the ages.”

“Those are risks, of course, but given the heavy presence his enemies had on this world, the likelihood of a cache being here is negligible. It is more likely any such cache would be located somewhere out in space. And the ponies are in no condition to exploit such knowledge. So as far as being a wealth of advanced information for the ponies, Alf is not one, at least directly.”

Suddenly, a blinking light appeared on the edge of Thorn’s heads-up display with a scientist’s name appearing.  Thorn pressed a talon on the dot, allowing a black feathered tom to appear.  “Doctor Urian, I trust you have good news for me.”

The physician saluted crisply, his eyes briefly skirting towards Gleaming Scythe.  “Yes, Admiral.  The final round of live testing for the eye screen was a complete success.  With your permission, I can start implantation procedures colony-wide.”

Thorn glanced at the multiple images of those in attendance of Alf and Twilight’s duel.  Every last pony wore protective goggles and helmets, including Twilight.  “Excellent.  I wish to have my implant immediately, I’ll be needing it shortly.  Also, I want you to gather all notes you have on the function and construction of the eye screen and send it to me.”

The scientist cowed a bit.  “May I ask why, sir?”

Thorn narrowed his eyes in an implied warning.  “All you need to know, doctor, is that your legacy will reach further than you expected.”

“I… see.”  Urain recovered by saluting.  “We’ll be ready to proceed as soon as you reach the bionics division, sir.”

“Good.  That is all.”  With that, Thorn closed the call with a calculating frown.







Early the next day, Twilight and Sawbones joined Alf in his quarters.  The alien was sitting cross-legged on the ground with the six icons of harmony drawn on the floor in a circle around him.  Those symbols took the shape of the six original Elements of Harmony.  Twilight blushed and hid a frown of embarrassment behind a hoof upon seeing Alf showering Twilight’s cutie mark with more reverence than an addict.

Presently, Alf was holding the nanite canister above Twilight’s cutie mark.  “O Blessed Lavender Goddess of Depthless Wisdom and Benevolence, I bind my soul to your will.  Do with me as your desire demands.”

Alf continued on, but by now Twilight was immensely grateful that the alien was facing away from her so she could bury her face into a wing.  By Celestia, please stop, you’re so embarrassing.

Sawbones was not wearing his doctor’s coat, so he had no compulsion against playfully jabbing her leg.  When her ear directed towards him, Sawbones whispered, “Is this the sort of thing you’ve been teaching him?  Is this a subtle way of telling me to—”

“Absolutely not!” Twilight hissed.  “I will banish you to the couch.”

Sawbones closed his eyes and waved a hoof in reverence, “O thou of unfathomably perfect lavender beauty, your very hoofsteps cause flowers to bloom, angels to weep for joy, valkyries to rejoice, and—” Twilight bent down and shoved her muzzle into Sawbones’ own.

“That’s it, you’re on diaper duty for the next month.”

Sawbones cracked a mischievous grin.  “It may ordinarily be the nurses’ job, but I’ve changed more than my fair share of diapers.  I can handle a newborn.”

Before Twilight could think of a better punishment, she noticed Alf had stopped chanting.  She turned towards him to find the alien was watching her.  If he made any indication he heard any of the exchange, Alf made no show of it.  “Goddess of Ponies, with your permission, I will join you at last.”  Alf opened the nanite canister and made ready to drink it.

Twilight masked her embarrassed blush well and gave a curt nod.  “You may.  I hope it goes well for you.” Wish we could have studied these nanites longer.  At least the canister could prove useful.

With one last prostrated bow towards Twilight, Alf put the canister to his lips and started drinking the nanites.  The fluid they were suspended in made it an easy, if vile, experience.  The cogitator entity had gone out of its way to make it taste repulsive.  Alf nearly gagged on it more than once, but eventually downed its whole contents.  He groaned at the end of the experience, shaking his head out of revulsion.

A few moments went by with nothing happening.  A minute.  Three.  Eventually, Twilight and Sawbones shared a questioning look while Alf simply sat there quietly meditating.  “Um, Alf,” Twilight hazarded, interrupting him.  “Aren’t you supposed to be turning into a pony of some kind?”

Alf scoffed at the notion.  “I should hope so.  Why do you ask?”

Twilight remembered seeing the collection of aliens under the ocean where one was in the middle of becoming some sort of sea creature.  “I assumed the process would be…”

“Faster,” Sawbones finished, getting a nod out of Twilight.

“If you are referring to the method you witnessed in the sunken black sailer you found me in, nanites were the original means of transformation.  It was deemed far too slow, so they were abandoned after faster methods were invented.”

Sawbones felt his professionalism spike at the idea of Alf suffering.  “How slow are we talking here?  Should I get something to help with that?  A metabolic accelerator should be safe—”

He was cut off by Alf waving for silence.  “I thank you, but no.  I find it fitting that He Who Aided the Dead granted me these nanites.”  Alf stared absently at the empty canister.  “One last Spark Bearer consumed by the Liar’s Retribution.”  He looked back at the ponies.  “I must use it unaltered. No matter your intent, your efforts would sour this last act.”  His breath hitched as a pain stretched across his upper left arm.  Alf started sweating fluid that dried quickly, turning into threads of silk.  “I would appreciate being put into a bath of oxygenated simple sugars soon, but it is not needed.”  He turned to both ponies after pulling his gaze from his arm.  “That much, at least, is acceptable.”  Alf was almost successful in concealing the fiery pain that lanced through his left arms.  Yet it proved too much too fast, and he bowled over, hissing in acute agony.

Twilight placed a restraining wing against Sawbones who tried to reach for him.  The doctor looked at her, silently begging for permission to do his job.  All he received, however, was a quiet shake of her head.  “Very well, Alf,” Twilight said with no less concern.  “If this is how you need it to happen, then so be it.  I hope you survive this last trial.”

“As do I,” Alf said with strained brevity.

Not wishing to see her strange friend in agony as more of his skin turned into silk, Twilight gently prodded Sawbones to leave with a wing.  “See you when,” and if, “you wake up.”

Twilight had to end up dragging Sawbones out of Alf’s quarters by the tail.  “You’ve got to at least let me give him something to knock him out!”

“No, doctor.”

“What about a blow to the head at least if he doesn’t want meds?”

Twilight reached the door and gave him a sympathetic frown.  “Yes, because that worked so well for me in the arena.”

“...Point taken.”

“And what happened to do no harm or do not medicate laws?”

“You wouldn’t complain about a scalpel being used for surgery,” Sawbones grumped as he allowed himself to be shoved out of the room.  “And not for nothing, but Alf isn’t exactly in the right state of mind after taking a bunch of nanites that could be intoxicating or brainwashing him into saying that.”

“Which is now out of our control,” Twilight stated with iron after closing the door.  The pair of marines guarding the door inched away from the irate princess.  She gave Sawbones a sigh. “Look, I admire how you wish to help him, but Alf needs to do this for himself, his way.   If he dies from this… it will at least be on his own terms.”

Without preparing himself ahead of time, Sawbones couldn’t drag himself into thinking professionally.  “I can’t stand masochists.”  He walked off still spouting supreme disgust.  “Oh no, I like pain and suffering.  It’s the only way I feel alive because society tells me so!  Not like friends, family, something normal couldn’t do that instead.”

Twilight chased after him, glad he wasn’t making a scene.  And now we’re at the part of the relationship where he loosens up.  In spite of herself, Twilight couldn’t help but to smirk a little.  “Different culture, doctor.  There were plenty of weird ones in the old world.”

He growled dismissively and flailed a hoof.  “Yeah, well, he wants to be part of our culture.”

Twilight shrugged before turning to leave.  “True, but I’m sure he’ll be more receptive once he’s a pony.”

“One can only hope.”







With Sawbones going back on shift at the clinic, Twilight returned home after grabbing Spring Roll from the hospital nursery.  The foal had been one of many who received immune boosters.  As Twilight dropped the diaper bag on the kitchen bar, the little filly was bouncing and wiggling in her mother’s magic.

“Well aren’t you spritely today?” Twilight cooed.  She kissed Spring’s nose, eliciting bubbling giggles out of the little earth filly.  “You were such a good girl for the nurses today, we’re going to go flying.  Whaddaya say?”

Spring Roll just babbled and clumsily flailed her legs.   Heading back outside with the dark purple infant in tow, Twilight pushed off into gentle flight.  Twilight placed Spring Roll on her withers so the infant had a stable platform to feel safe as her mother flew narrow laps around the interior of the dome.

Spring Roll wiggled happily, crying out in baby babble as Twilight’s ethereal mane blanketed her to near blindness of anything else.  Only on the fifth lap did Twilight crane her head around to see there was a problem.  “Hehe, oops.  Lemme turn that off.”

With age-long experience, Twilight dimmed the fount of alicorn magic flowing through her just enough to cause her hair to revert to being corporeal strands.  Using a bit of telekinesis, Twilight then pulled her still quite long mane out of Spring’s face so the infant could see the ground below them.

Twilight fully expected Spring Roll to show fear from being so far off the ground as nearly all earth foals did.  A fear that was detrimental in a society of aircraft, skyscrapers, and future orbital activities.  Studies say early introduction of high elevations can cure it before kindergarten.  Experience from her previous earth  daughters confirmed it.

As Twilight made her laps however, Spring Roll giggled the entire time, her eyes trying to focus on one point on the ground at a time.  She made hard clumsy jerks trying to walk on air.  Twilight hummed pleasantly.  “Do you like being high up?  Do you love flying, my little roly-poly?”

More excited squeals erupted from the filly, giving Twilight a pleased grin.  So she doesn’t have acrophobia; that’s a first.  This should be an easy upbringing in that respect, so no complaints here.  I wonder if it’s that pegasus blood in her…

Both mother and daughter continued lapping the house for several minutes until a high priority call came in.  Twilight halted into a hover as Voyager’s new avatar materialized.  “Colonial Princess, there is a message from Admiral Thorn wishing to engage in trade.”

“Trade?” Twilight asked incredulously.  “And here I was hoping we’d just leave each other alone until the Olympics.”  Twilight alighted back to the grassy lawn and was about to accept the call when a few strands of loosened hair got in her eyes.  Oops, almost forgot to turn the alicorn light on.

Taking a moment to fix her hair to her usual exact style, Twilight nodded at the AI.  “Go ahead, Voyager.”

A large, flat screen appeared in front of her revealing Admiral Thorn resplendent in his dress uniform.  What put Twilight off pace was that he was outside, standing on top of a building with the snowy peaks behind him.  He was wearing a breathing mask, but no goggles.  “Ahh, Colonial Princess Twilight Sparkle… have I caught you at an inopportune time?”

He calls me when he’s not in his office? Twilight recovered from the mild surprise, and caught Spring Roll clumsily falling off.  Clown.  The last thing I need is letting you hurt yourself right in the middle of a call.  She deftly deposited the foal on her back, allowing the baby to entertain herself by chewing on the flowing hair.  “Depends on the nature of your call.  I can multitask well enough.”  Not like I keep a foalsitter on hoof at all times anyway.

Giving only a nod in acknowledgement, Thorn carried on as if the child wasn’t even there.  “It has come to my understanding that you have developed a method of breathing the atmosphere without a need for masks.” Twilight gave him a brief sly grin. “My scientists have recently invented a device to allow anyone to do the same with eye protection.   I feel it would be in both our interests to exchange these technologies, wouldn’t you say?”

Twilight’s ears stood at attention, and she ignored the slobber being added to her hair.  “That it would.” She averted her gaze slightly.  “Voyager, bring me the relevant data of the bio-filter.”  Turning back to Thorn, Twilight adopted a cordial posture.  “What form does your eye protection take?”

Thorn tapped a button on his HUD.  A small representation of a griffin’s skull appeared with rings of bionic implants encircling the bone of the eye sockets.  There was nothing else discernible, other than it projecting a thin golden barrier in front of the eyes.  “An implant that is powered by the owner’s metabolic energy, so even mana exhaustion will not result in failure.  It is designed to last a lifetime and be completely transparent to the user.  As the skull of a child grows, the rings can separate and remain perfectly functional.”

That would bring us just one step away from being adapted to our new home.  “Most impressive.  Glad to see we were not doing parallel research.  Provided there aren’t any listening devices in these implants, I’m sure we can make good use of them.”

Admiral Thorn gave an amused hum and half-smile.  “It was tempting, but you and I both know we’re well past such games.  You may take the blueprints apart piece by piece if you feel the need.  Now,” he announced while waving his claw to dismiss the eye screen hologram.  “Let’s move on to this air filter of yours.”

Spring Roll was getting antsy, so Twilight started rolling the little tyke in midair, causing her to squeal happily.  All the while, she gave a mental command to her personal display to depict the throat filter in the same manner as Thorn did for his eye screen.  Voyager took the initiative to have the infant’s shouting ignored in the transmission.   The hologram Twilight presented was actually the original scan of Prism’s throat when she first acquired it.  “Our physicians have taken to calling it the X-10 after the old gas masks used during the war.”

“That Laughter tenet of yours at play again,” Thorn replied flatly.

“Old habits,” Twilight conceded with a head tilt.  “It’s entirely biological, and with a bit of genetic tailoring, built into the subject’s genes.  And since it is grown from the body’s own cells, there is no chance of rejection.”  Thorn took on a concerned scowl but remained silent.  “Not only does the filter function perfectly enough to allow indefinite exposure to the native air, it has some tangible effectiveness at screening smoke before reaching the lungs.”  Her tone took on just a touch of mirth.  “It’s made some of my former smokers nervous about when and if I allow tobacco to be grown again.”

“I’m sure it has,” Thorn stated with reciprocated good humor.  “How is it with miasma?”

Twilight couldn’t stop herself from wiggling an uncertain hoof.  “I wouldn’t know to be honest.  We were so focused on breathing normal air, we didn’t think to test for miasma resilience.  Even so, I would strongly recommend not talking a stroll through it.”

“A pity, but this filter is usable nonetheless.  I think we can agree on an equal trade here.  I am prepared to transmit all necessary files should you feel the same.”

Twilight had to think about it for a moment, scrunching her face all the while.  Thorn knows if he was not on the level, he’d be creating a diplomatic incident when neither of us can afford one.  His honor wouldn’t allow it.  “Deal.  Voyager, send the collected genetic mapping data to the Dominion.”  At the same time, Thorn tabbed a few commands of his own.

Twilight was a bit surprised to see the hologram of the X-10 break apart into cubes and funnel in behind Thorn’s camera.  Likewise, the files Thorn sent over did the reverse, coming in as a spiral before cubing into the shape of paper filled folders.  Has somepony been messing with Voyager again?  He’s never been so artistic before.

“I’ll have these forwarded to the necessary experts,” Thorn announced, snapping Twilight back to the conversation.  “Should they have any further questions, I trust my people can call your people, yes?”

“Provided the same invitation is offered to us, then for the purposes of the X-10, then that is acceptable.”

“Until next time,” Thorn said with a nod.  He swiped, ending the call.

Twilight briefly amused herself by thumbing through the holographic files filled with potentially fascinating data.  I think I’ll just keep a copy of this for my own perusal.  “Voyager, send this to Clattering Cog. I want this adapted to pony physiology asap.”

“Affirmative, Colonial Princess.”

Now I just have to figure out who’s been messing with your code.  I let court distract me from asking Prism yesterday after the duel.  I know I never authorized anything of the sort.





Thorn scowled at the folders floating in his HUD.  A deep sense of disgust filled him and he reflexively hid it behind a smoldering grimace.  “Doctor Urian, I trust you were paying attention.”

The griffin in question stepped away from the chair that had been off camera.  “Yes sir.  You’re not actually planning on making us use that filter as is are you?”

Thorn shook his head.  “You can put your fears to rest, Doctor. I will not repeat the mistakes of Laboratory Five nor Gnashing Fang in any capacity.  Outside of correcting genetic diseases, I forbid all gene tailoring research.”

Urian visibly sagged in relief.  “That… that is good to hear, Admiral.  But what of Gleaming Scythe? Don’t all changelings engage in such research?”

“That is a matter…” Thorn fumed against foul memories and the needs of the hybrid.  If Twilight Sparkle is freely adapting this throat filter, then that could leave Praxia with nearly a free hoof to do whatever she wants with her brood.  Controlling his bile, Thorn made a short cutting gesture at the scientist.  “She is a special case.  So long as she only performs such research on her brood alone, I can allow some tailoring.”

Urian kept quiet for fear of worsening Thorn’s mood with the wrong word.  Thorn took a moment to recenter himself.  “Let us focus on the task at hand.  You will delegate the administration of the eye screen to Doctor Gelda and her team.  I want you modifying this bio-filter into an acceptable substitute.”

Urian thumbed through the files before coming across the 3D model of the filter.  He scrutinized it carefully for a minute or two.  That gave Thorn time to address other matters until the older griffin spoke up again.  “Yes… that should be of only a minor concern, Admiral.  The use of channels directing the captured airborne particles to the stomach for destruction is quite elegant in its efficiency.  A pity the Equestrians wasted such efforts on making it purely biological.  But now that I have a working model to reverse engineer, it should not take too terribly long.”

“Excellent.  I will be expecting progress reports every week.”  Urian thumped a crisp salute before flying off, leaving Thorn to remain by himself.  Thorn turned his gaze towards the approximate direction of Elysium.  “Don’t slip too far down this slope, Colonial Princess; it will only lead to your ultimate destruction.”  His gaze darkened.  “And a broken rival is a useless rival.”