//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Did You Get My Message? // Story: Viral // by AnchorsAway //------------------------------// Data Files Recovered from the Royal Canterlot University of Science Ruins. Presented at the Third Global Conference on the Equestria Quarantine Period. — New Canterlot, Equestria Republic, April 12-16, 1021 A.V. To: professorlakeshore@RCUS.com, ‘Professor Lakeshore’ From: harvestnight@RCUS.com, ‘Dr. Harvest Night’ Subject: Hello from Caballo! ¡Hola Profesor! Hello from sunny Caballo. Just wanted to let you know Orange Blossom and I made the trip safely. The airship ride was a little bumpy, but we touched down this morning in the capital, right at the edge of the Tenochtitlan jungle basin. I can already see the overgrowth in the distance. The trees look so thick against the hills of the capital. It’s hot and dusty, and Orange Blossom is complaining about the heat as usual. Anyway, I thought I would check in with you one last time while I still have mobile service. Plus, I was hoping to see if you knew a good Common to Caballan language dictionary. I should have researched Equestria's southern neighbor a bit more if you should know the truth. I don't quite have the tongue for some of their pronunciations. On another note, we’re meeting our Equestrian Defense Coalition contact, Fourbit, this afternoon at the market. The stallion is a little pompous if you ask me, insisting he and his colleagues from the DC tag along on the research expedition. But at least he got us the funding we needed. Can't argue with bits now, can I? Fourbit already arranged for some overlanders to get us to the jungle basin when we meet up. Then, we should rendezvous our guide and trek it the rest of the way through the basin on hoof. The ruins are only a few days hike judging from the coordinates. So exciting! I really hope I brought enough survey equipment. I know you have your reservations about the Defense Coalition's interest in my research, but if they keep the bits coming, I say more power to them. Even if it means putting up with Fourbit. Either way, he already got us this far, and I'm sure the satellite scan of the basin wasn't cheap. We could have been scouring the Tenochtitlan basin for decades without it, trying to pinpoint the temple. I just know this is going to be our big break if the legends are true. Orange Blossom is hailing a taxi, so I'm going to cut this short. I'll message you again when we make camp for the night. — Lots of love, Harvest Night ~sent from my iPear~ To: professorlakeshore@RCUS.com, ‘Professor Lakeshore' From: harvestnight@RCUS.com, ‘Dr. Harvest Night' Subject: Made Camp Well, I had a hay of a time, but I think I finally got the relay dish set up correctly. The jungle canopy is so thick here. I was hunched over the blasted thing with a flashlight in my teeth for almost two hours trying to get it to track accurately. You can never trust unicorn engineering. Just wanted to fill you in with an update. Thanks again for the Caballan dictionary recommendation. Picked up a copy at the market before we left the capital. We met our guides when we left the vehicles at the edge of the jungle basin, two huge stallions with machetes, Talmai (Hilltop) and Paavo (Tiny, who is anything but). They’re not Caballan, but part of the indigenous Tenochtitlan tribes. Their numbers are so few I was surprised to even meet two face to face. They don't quite seem to be the talkative type, just focusing on clearing a path with their machetes. But it's probably because of the Defense Coalition lackeys Fourbit brought with him. I swear to Celestia, the DC ponies came dressed like somepony out of a Daring Do novel, decked out in ridiculous and impractical jungle gear. Orange Blossom doesn't believe any of these ponies have even been hiking before, but Fourbit insists they are crucial to the expedition. They're eggheads from what I can tell, labbies without field experience. No offense to you, of course, Professor. The lecture hall is your domain. Even with our slow pace, we are still making solid ground. The Tenochtitlan Jungle is almost impenetrable, but Talmai and Paavo seem to know what they are doing. The stallions expertly cut a path through the overgrown and set us in this clearing for the night. You should see the sky right now, it's a spotlight of stars through the hole in the tree canopy. I'll send you a picture later if I can figure out how to use this relay unit properly. Still have a long hike ahead of us the next few days, so I'm going to leave you here. I need to get some sleep for tomorrow. — Your faithful (if former) student, Harvest ~sent from EquiSat Service Satellite Relay~ To: professorlakeshore@RCUS.com, ‘Professor Lakeshore' From: harvestnight@RCUS.com, ‘Dr. Harvest Night' Subject: We Have Company It is probably nothing serious, but I think I should let you know we received some unexpected visitors today. An airship met us at another clearing around mid-day, dropping lines for ponies to rappel down. Fourbit has arranged for almost a dozen armed mercenaries to accompany us to the temple burial site. Fourbit says he only requested them as added security. Evidently, the cartels of Caballo have been pillaging ancient indigenous ruins, selling the relics on the black market. The thought just makes my blood boil, priceless artifacts, some probably arcanic, sold as trinkets to the rich and wealthy. I just wish he would have consulted with myself and Orange Blossom before calling in hired guns filly-nilly. Whoever these ponies are, they're taking orders from Fourbit. I swear that cocky little stallion is starting to ride on my nerves. This is supposed to be my expedition, not his. It would have been nice for him to tell me before recruiting a bunch of hotshots with guns. But I have to play nice, he is the one shelling out the bits after all. Either way, it looks like we're stuck with the mercs for now. At least they came better prepared than the Defense Coalition ponies. But the weapons seem a little extreme: auto-crossbows, MAG rifles, night vision. Most of the ponies are probably ex-royal military judging from their demeanor. I've only heard stories of the Caballan cartels, but could they be so bold as to attack Equestrian researchers? Either Fourbit knows something we don't, and isn't sharing it, or the cartels must be desperate for bits. Much akin to Talmai and Paavo, the security team doesn't talk much. They like to huddle in their own little group around the campfire at night. Talmai and Paavo are keeping an eye on them, but the DC ponies don't pay them any attention. Orange Blossom was able, however, to strike up a conversation with one of the mercs, a stallion named Romulus. I think it was only because she has a thing for cute bat ponies (not that you heard it from me of course). After a little persuasion, and maybe some of Orange's cider stash, we finally got Romulus to open up a bit. Turns out he to used to be part of the Night Watch, one of Princess Luna's royal guard. Orange Blossom was dying to hear if he had any personal stories or secrets about the Princess, but he clammed up as soon as the subject came about. Seems he left the Night Watch unexpectedly. Doesn't look like anypony wants to talk tonight. I'm not sure why, but everypony is a little on edge. Even Fourbit. I need to get some sleep. Didn't catch a wink last night. — Harvest ~sent from EquiSat Service Satellite Relay~ To: professorlakeshore@RCUS.com, ‘Professor Lakeshore' From: harvestnight@RCUS.com, ‘Dr. Harvest Night' Subject: Statues Attachments: image1.JPEG, image2.JPEG, image3.JPEG We found these statues late this afternoon, and I had to convince Fourbit to stop. I was able to take some photos and sketches (he wasn't happy, but obliged). Tenochtitlan tribal history isn’t my main forte, but I sent copies to a colleague or two inside the history department who would be interested in them. Though you might like to take a peek at them as well. You should have seen Orange Blossom nearly jumped out of her skin when she stumbled on the first one. Definitely gave her quite a fright. So many teeth. They definitely match the legend's description of the basin. Less exciting news. Talmai and Paavo left the expedition and are turning back. "Xibalba! Xibalba!" they kept shouting to us when they saw the ancient statues. "Xibalba" isn't Caballan, but part of the indigenous Tenochtitlan tribal language. It is an almost dead language, spoken by only a hooful of their descendants. Paavo translated, said it means "Place of Fear." He practically begged us not to go further, that we were trespassing on dangerous ground before turning back. Sounds to be more of the superstitious legend to me. The mercs got quite a laugh at Talmai and Paavo taking off through the brush, all except Romulus. That bat pony kinda creeps me out to be honest, always watching everypony with his bright, orange eyes. I'm not sure what has his head on a swivel. He's still his usual quiet self. Fourbit thankfully has the coordinates for the ruins mapped. He's lucky our hunch on the location paid off. He says we shouldn't encounter any more problems making it the rest of the way without Talmai and Pavvo. I hope he's right and doesn't get us lost. This is the last place I want to be wandering about without a map. The canopy is so thick we need lanterns half the time just to keep from tripping over each other. Probably why I keep getting these chills, too. I can't wait to get to the ruins and collect my samples. I want to get out of this dark jungle. Hope to hear what you make of the statues when we pitch camp tomorrow night. Things don't seem to be going exactly to plan, but I still have high hopes we can make it to the ruins. We're so close. — Harvest ~sent from EquiSat Service Satellite Relay~ To: professorlakeshore@RCUS.com, ‘Professor Lakeshore' From: harvestnight@RCUS.com, ‘Dr. Harvest Night' Subject: Orange Blossom is dead I tried to save her. Came out the trees in the middle of the night, hundreds, maybe thousands of bats. Vampire bats, big as diamond dogs. We were all asleep when it happened. Orange and I crawled out our tent at the sound of the commotion. I should have held her back. The mercs were shooting everywhere. There was nothing I could do. The bats swarmed us both, but they pulled her into the air. I swung at them, trying to pull them off of her, but it was no use. I would be dead, too, if it had not been for Romulus. He shot into the mass of bats carrying Orange higher into the trees, dragging me toward the campfire. She was nothing but a torso by the time they dropped her. The bats would not get close to the fire and left before dawn. I buried what was left of Orange Blossom. She didn't deserve this. I should never have let her come. One of Fourbit's mares are dead, too, as well as five of the mercenaries. Two others sustained bites, Bitter Root and Persimmon. They're sick. Both running fevers over a hundred degrees and I have a feeling Bitter Root is slipping into shock. I can't tell what it is, not out here. We need to get them to a real doctor. I told Fourbit to call off the excavation of the temple, that we needed to abandon the expedition. He made a mobile call. They are going to have an airship create a clearing due south of the ruins with artillery. It is faster to head for the evac point than to go back the way we came. I should never have agreed to this. Damn the grant money. I'm coming home. ~sent from EquiSat Service Satellite Relay~ To: professorlakeshore@RCUS.com, ‘Professor Lakeshore' From: harvestnight@RCUS.com, ‘Dr. Harvest Night' Subject: None They came again despite the bonfire. The bats are huge. Fourbit is dead. So are three of the DC stallions and another mare. The mare screamed the entire time they ate her. More than half of the mercenaries were carried off. The bats shrugged off the cross bolts as if they were only twigs. Only the arcane blasts from the MAG rifles could kill them. Persimmon, the bit merc, is dead. She wouldn't stop thrashing. It was the fever. Bitter Root has disappeared. The others assume he stumbled off and died from the fever. Nopony can find him. I can’t fix this. The fastest way to the evac point is through the ruins. Another DC mare has stepped in Fourbit's place. She insists on excavating the burial site. They lied to us. They came here for something. I do not want to do this anymore, Professor. I'm scared. They are forcing me to help the recovery team. I want to come home. ~sent from EquiSat Service Satellite Relay~ To: professorlakeshore@RCUS.com, 'Professor Lakeshore' From: EquiSat Relay Services, LLC Subject: Automated Emergency Message This is an automated message. An Equisat relay user has activated their unit's distress function. This message has been transmitted to every emergency contact address listed at the user's request. Begin User Message: It wasn't a legend. I don't have long. We should have never come here. I was wrong I was wrong I was wrong. The burial site. They pulled it out. It wasn't pon##**#*#%**#*: Unit Error - LOS. Loss of Signal. End Message. They had offered him bits, of course, but he knew exactly what it was, as did they. It was hush money. "We're very sorry for what happened to Dr. Harvest Night," the two ponies had told him, standing before his desk piled high with term papers. "We know you two were close. The Equestrian Defense Coalition director would like to personally donate a fund in her name to your department, Professor Lakeshore. Her research was quite valuable to the organization," they assured him, their words cold as if reading from a script, which Lakeshore had assumed they actually were. The Defense Coalition was not known for its compassion. "I'm sure the Royal Canterlot University of Science could make great use of the donation: as could the Arcanic Science Department, Professor. Such a tragedy, but everypony on the expedition knew the risks of digging around a cartel hotbed," the well-dressed ponies revealed. "We can assure you that our members in the Royal Government are exploring every avenue of justice with the assistance of the Caballan embassy. We'll find the ponies responsible and make them pay for their crimes." But it was nothing but lies, and Lakeshore would not take a single bit. He couldn't. Not for Harvest. Not for the fabrications about what had happened to the expedition — how they died. Lakeshore knew there hadn't been a cartel attack. He hadn't shown the DC ponies the proof: seven emails filed away on his computer terminal. Now, eighteen long months of searching for the truth had only yielded multiple dead ends, false leads, and ignorance on the part of the Defence Coalition. All except the sole mercenary, the former Night Watch. But even that, as it turned out, was useless when Lakeshore finally tracked the reclusive bat pony down. All the proof the aging Professor now had left was sitting on his computer screen, seven emails from who he considered his brightest student, somepony he had treated like a daughter. Seven emails he had combed through, again and again, looking for something, anything that could tell him what happened to Harvest deep in the jungles of Caballo. But there was nothing. No clue, no secret, no revelation contained in those messages. He had to accept she was really and truly gone. Lakeshore ran a hoof over his study desk, locked away in the back halls of the university. Dusty piles of neglected papers, tests, and exams were a stark and constant reminder of the time he had spent chasing her ghost, all for nothing. The soft glow of the computer monitor washed his tired face with its sickly beige light, the shadows of wrinkles like painted lines on the Professor brow. Maybe it was time to move on, he wondered, scratching at his silver-streaked beard. Lakeshore's bloodshot eyes wandered over the last e-mail one last time, a cry for help he had not been able to answer, a plea frozen in time. With a final click, the image evaporated, the monitor humming itself softly to sleep, and the room returned to the dark of night once more. And from the stacks of paper around him, Professor Lakeshore levitated the semester's term projects down one by one. He wasn't giving up. Not by a long shot, he reminded himself, grading papers by the light of his horn. Lakeshore knew the past always had a way of revealing her secrets. He just had to be patient. For Harvest.