Mankind Triumphant: The Last Six

by BlueDWarrior

Chapter 2: Reclamation

My dear girls... it will soon be time. The curtain on your grand production will soon be raised. I can only hope the playwrights will be kind to you all in the end.

        "Alright guys, here is our assignment," said a man clad in black and gray camouflage. A team of three men, each of slightly different build, rolled up to a rather out of the way mansion in a black and charcoal gray van-like wheeled vehicle.

The three of them jumped out rather quickly; after of course ascertaining there were no vultures around to snipe their job, or themselves. They strode to the door with purpose, as the technical expert hooked a wire from his computer to a panel near the front door of the mansion/laboratory in order to open the place up.

"The Entry Codes and everything else look legit. That lady that commissioned our work knew what she was talking about," the technical expert explained, as he undid the electronic locks on the mansion with little to no effort.

"At least I don't have to try and jimmy the door open like the last time. Doors of the rich are always a pain in the ass to open when you don't have the key codes," a rather large man, in the same black and gray camouflage said, positively towering (in a relative sense) over the other two of his partners.

"Yeah. But this might be a relatively easy job. Apparently we're only supposed to be bringing back data and some light equipment, that's why we got Rich's custom data-van tonight," the team leader said, as they all went inside.

        The looked around for a few minutes at the dark mansion. It really did look all the world like a normal rich person's house. Humanity had done quite well for itself in the five centuries since The Cataclysm as they called it, at least that is what those in charge told everyone. Life was still pretty damn hard for most, since either drones of the Slave Ponies, as most of them called them, handled all the manual labor. Therefore, especially if you weren't technically inclined, you had to develop some really worthwhile skills. The three of them had indeed made a name for themselves under the banner of the Eastern America Reclamation Corporation, as the best reclamation team under their employ.

        Due to the nature and speed at which Humanity had progressed (at least materially) since that day, things tended to get... left behind. Or property changed hands, whatever have you. Therefore, in the last fifty years, the idea of the 'reclamation company' came about. Their mission was simple: hire some people to go and get stuff before vultures or squatters could claim it for themselves. Tonight's job for the intrepid crew: Thomas, the tactical leader, Richard the technical and computer expert, and Harold, the muscle and bit of a demolitions guy. All were in their early thirties, had graduated from the same school, pretty much had been together for most of their (young) adult lives.

"Man, this place is dusty. Though I'm surprised it isn't a colony for bugs by now," Harold said as he looked around the dark and dusty home.

"Yeah, I don't know when the agriculture colonies plan to start re-releasing insects into the wider world. It must be a pain trying to corral and direct the Slave Ponies all the time," Richard said as he began securing and encrypting the connections to the data-van parked outside.

Thomas just sat in a chair after dusting it off with his hand, contemplating the wider world they found themselves in. "You know what I've been thinking all this time: I wonder what really happened in those years after the Cataclysm. I mean everything is green again outside of the cities and colonies thanks to the Slave Ponies. But, I dunno man, it just seems like a hell of a price to pay to preserve ourselves."

        Richard and Harold thought about it for a short while themselves, as Rich's laptop continued to synchronize itself with the data-van. As the synchronization neared completion, Richard offered his thoughts on the subject. "Well like anything else on this planet, it's kill or be killed. But, I guess this is the curse of sapience: to second guess killing something else to ensure your survival. What happened that day, even if the White Horse was an invader, just felt... wrong."

Harold never really cared much for history, and really didn't see a side worth taking in that conflict; yet, he to some extent agreed with the sense of wrongness Richard felt. "I mean it's easy for us to sit here and say 'Well that's good for her ass, she shouldn't have done what she did!' But it couldn't have just been that simple, could it?"

The three of them debated as best they could the scenario and whatever alternatives might have been available to humanity at that time. All of them felt that they did not have a complete story; but all the original authors and actors in that production were either long dead or locked in some kind of magically-laced coffin.

They were interrupted by a shrill beeping from Richard's laptop, signaling the synchronization was complete and the encryption was set. It was time to get to work copying whatever data and moving whatever equipment they could.

"Alright, here we go. Eastern American Genetic Laboratories, boy you think they would have come up with more clever names for these companies. Then again since they are de facto government, it should probably stand to reason they'd want to project that," Richard mused out loud, as he began reactivating the main system's computers.

Harold scoffed a bit at the concern for aesthetics the tech-head was showing. "Yeah, watcha gonna do sometimes. Oh well we get paid pretty well for not being in the management class, all things considered."

"That we do Harry, that we do. Too bad we have to play nice to keep our little slice of pie," Thomas reasoned out loud. He hated dealing with his superiors and the seemingly pervasive and infectious smugness throughout the managerial classes.

Richard agreed with the disdain for their employers and their seeming nonchalant attitude regarding their 'lessers'. "'Do what you can to get by.' It's all we can do to avoid the deep urban slums. Boy you think we would have sorted that out since then."

Harold chuckled to himself a bit. "'More things change, the more they stay the same.' Heh, at least they thought to preserve the 'greater works of Humanity' before they smashed the big reset button."

        Eventually their banter was quelled by the lab's central computers coming to life, lighting the windowless room up with the LCD lights along the ceiling.

"Welcome purveyors of Science, to the Eastern American Genetics Laboratories: where we are making a better world through the Code of Life," a rather dull masculine voice said as the pre-programmed greeting played through the computer room.

"Wonder how long since anyone alive heard that little message here," Harold thought out loud as he watched the mostly unreadable (to him) diagnostic messages scroll past the main monitor.

"According to the lady that commissioned our work for the evening, at least 70 years. Apparently her grandfather's crew were the last real workers in this facility. She didn't say what they were working on here, only that we were to bring back as much information as we could, and some of the physical equipment if we could manage it," Richard answered as we watched the booting computer for any oddities.

This is just plain weird, these computers should be producing some kind of errors or something in the last seventy-odd years... but it's like these computers haven't even been off for a day... Richard thought to himself as he saw absolutely no errors being reported from the system as it loaded swiftly into the base operating system.

Richard was still surprised by the relative easy by which he was accessing all the information. "Alright, according to her, the relevant files should be... in... this... directory. Boy for what seems like highly sensitive information, the protection on these files is relatively simple. I can only assume this place was under heavy guard in order to prevent outright access."

As he began copying the files into his laptop and transferring them back to the data-van, he and the rest of the crew were surprised by a sudden fanfare and mild pyrotechnic display on the main monitor of the system's computers.

I guess this is where the job gets interesting. Thomas thought to himself, as he searched for a chair to sit in.

        "Greetings to the Future! If you are watching or reading this message, I'm in all likelihood dead! And, seeing as the exact information and means to unlock is only known to my family, that means either the viewer of this message is family, or has been commissioned directly by my family to access these files and records," stated a rather energetic elderly sounding male through the system's speakers.

"Uh, I'd wager this isn't supposed to be happening..." Harold said as he put a hand on a sidearm just in case any drones or anything started showing up.

Richard scratched his head as he found nothing wrong with the situation, other than the odd message they were all watching. "Well, it's hard to say. Nothing is interrupting the transfer of the information, nor is my laptop or data-van being compromised by some outside access. Whoever rigged this up intended to have a independent message for whoever accessed this stuff."

"So I guess we get treated to a little show while we wait for the data to transfer for our client. Well might as well, doesn't seem like there's anything else for us to do anyway," Thomas said as he reclined a bit in the cushioned chair he found.

        The elderly male voice then started again. "First, a bit of a History Lesson..." The statement immediately met by a groan from Harold but the voice continued undaunted. "Everyone knows about the day that changed the direction of Human development forever: The Day of Fire, The Great Cataclysm, Equestrian Armageddon. According to the History Books, on that day, the culmination of all of human technology to that point single-handedly erased the threat of Equestria and her allies from the face of this and possibly any other world. From there, the remains of the White Horse, the so-called goddess that orchestrated an invasion of our Precious Earth was used to forge the new race of docile Ponies that help us reclaim the lands we sacrificed in our efforts to repel Celestia's threat once and for all."

"I wonder what kind of point he's making because he's just spouting what any kid in school would learn..." Harold thought out loud, as he was clearly chafing having to think about the subject.

"So then, what if I were to tell you that story was... incomplete?" the elderly voice then asked rhetorically.

Harold noticed this, and decided to answer the question at the entity that clearly couldn't respond. "Well, on one had I'd say you’re full of crap. On the other hand this has to be leading somewhere so whatever."

The voice then continued on. "Although everything went along more or less swimmingly for the last few centuries, Mankind was not content to simply rest on its laurels. Therefore, an idea began to be contemplated: what if the remains of Princess Celestia could be used for other means? With that, my team was commissioned to figure out an answer to this question."

"How is the data transfer looking, Rich? Looks like this little story is starting to get interesting..." Thomas asked, looking at Rich switching his focus from his laptop screen to the main screen of the labs.

"We're about 30% complete on the file transfers. Although you're right, I wanna know what this recording is talking about too," Richard replied, interested in the story from a scientific aspect himself.

The voice continued some more. "For ten years, we began applying various concoctions based upon Celestia's very blood. Very potent stuff that; a few ounces on the skin and the magic inherent would overwhelm a person's very genetics and transmogrify them into a full-fledged Pony. Some speculated that the original Ponification Program used during her, ahem, campaign was a generic equivalent of this. Who knows honestly? In any case, no matter what derivative or counter-agent we attempted to devise, the result was always the same. The subject would eventually turn into a Pony, and not just a Slave Pony either. Since it was Celestia's Blood and not the Neo-Ponification Serum with the magical counteragents, the resultant Pony would be one of the three original sub-species, and have full cognitive and magical abilities. Of course, the government corporations could not abide by that. All of the test subjects who underwent the procedures were summarily executed in cold blood."

"Ugh, the price of progress... it all just makes me ill sometimes." Thomas said as he cringed a bit at the thought of the newly-minted Ponies being shot in cold-blood, or worse.

"We're 75% complete on the file transfers, cap'n," Richard reported as the voice on the main computer started back to speaking.

"Personally, I nor my main assistants on the team could abide by this senseless waste of life. Even if the test subjects were convicts or those the ruling classes deemed expendable, it was highly unethical to say the least. Eventually, I registered my complaints with my superiors at the central office. Their response was very swift and curt. The project was completely shut down and anyone related to it directly were either to be Neo-Ponified or killed, whatever was more convenient at the moment. Of course I could not abide by dying or being Neo-Ponified by their hands, so I did what any sensible mad scientist would do. I attempted to end my life by my own hands and buried my research so deep not even they could find it. By the fact you are watching this message in the manner I intended, means I was successful in the latter. And most likely, successful in the former as well. I do hope that whichever family member that comes into possession of this data uses it wisely. What is contained therein has the potential that change the world. And quite possibly, if I may be so bold, to correct the devastating error that was made in our names all those centuries ago."

        The voice then cut off, and a little while later a short fanfare played, denoting all of the files had been transferred into the crew's laptop, and thereby recorded into the data-van outside as well.

Well, all the files except... one.

"So we're good to go, although it looks like there is one file remaining. You think we should open it?" Thomas asked, looking at the lone cubic icon in the file explorer on the main screen.

"We can take a look at it once I de-sync the system. I don't get a good feeling from the fact the system let us have everything except it. If it turns out to be legit, I'll copy it manually," Richard said as the he started the de-sync to preserve what they had so far.

After a few moments, the de-sync was complete, and Richard strode up to the main computer's control panel to open the leftover file. "Let's see what the good professor left behind..."

As soon as he opened the file and it was processed, were they treated to another fanfare.

After a few moments of processing, the familiar elderly voice started up again, this time with a slightly different tone. "Hrm, there is one more thing that you all want to know, yes? I wonder what that could be, what that could be..."

"Man this guy seems a few screws short of a full do-it-yourself-set," Harold said, folding his arms at the deceased professors mannerisms.

"Ah! That must be it! You all must be wondering just what I could have been working on that I would be literally willing to die to prevent it from ending!" the elderly voice said, now far more excited than a recording should have been.

"Well we weren't wondering that, but let's go with it anyway," Thomas said as he rose up out of his chair.

"Well, we should discuss this matter in a more private setting, who knows what might be trying to pry in. You all, do come in," the elderly voice said, making a motion as if he wanted the three men he couldn't be seeing to come through the screen.

The three men in question looked around confused, until they heard the wall itself on the back end of the lab moving, revealing an elevator.

Richard looked at the floor plans of the building, confused to why there was an elevator where none was clearly labeled. "You know, the fact that this place has hidden rooms should not be surprising; and yet, it is."

Harold had his side-arm drawn, ready for anything that might have popped out, as he went over the elevator. The elevator doors opened automatically, revealing nothing except a fairly well carpeted car ready to take them down underground. He turned around at the other two to ask the obvious question. "So do we take the good professor up on his offer, or what."

Thomas thought for a few moments. "On one hand, every logical bit of my brain is saying 'Turn around, you have what you came for, just leave and forget it.' On the other hand, fortune favors the bold."

"So... that means?" Richard asked, as he folded up the portable computer and put it in his backpack.

Thomas answered curtly. "We go."

Richard merely shrugged as he and the other two men entered the car, and took long ride down.

        After a couple of minutes of riding the elevator, the three men exited the rather spacious car, only to find something that blew them away.

"I... I don't even..." Richard stammered out barely, his team leader and the muscle left totally speechless.

The labs underneath the grounds looked completely state of the art, as if they never stopped running in the last seventy-some-odd years since the last officially documented day of operation.

"This place... this place..." Richard continued to stammer as the three of them walked through the labs, careful not to trip over anything.

The familiar elderly voice started up again, this time with a visage of a man in his early seventies on a giant monitor what looked like a video wall.

"Here is where the true magic was made during the active period of these labs. I believe you all are wondering 'What does he mean by magic and why would there be a lab underneath a lab to begin with?' Well I will answer that for you," the voice started. The three men each found chair, but didn't bother to sit as they were fearing they'd have to bolt for the elevator at any second. The visage continued speaking. "Down here is where we conducted the actual trials with the mixtures of Celestia's Blood. As you already know, each trial I stated, and if you had already skimmed the files I gave you the trials listed, ended in failure: none of the concoctions we devised resulted in anything except a Pony. At least... all but one particular formula,"

All three of the men wondered exactly what that could have meant about a formula that didn't result in failure. They all had their ideas, but were still in bit of shock over the whole finding a clandestine lab beneath another clandestine lab.

The old voice continued. "Yes, Formula #CLS-042. The results we achieved were nothing short of absolutely stunning." Video then appeared on the wall below the face speaking, as a visual aid to anyone watching. "As stated, all of the Formulas to this point only resulted in Ponies. However... this formula, was different. We ended up using it on six female test subjects, each one in their late teens. From all walks of life, one was the dispossessed daughter of a manager somewhere, another was a street urchin known for her already extreme strength given her age and frame. All probably would have ended up dead, Neo-Ponified, or in someone's service. Anyway, a long story short, when we applied this particular serum, we were stunned by the final result. A human!"

The three men sat there with jaws on the metaphorical floor as they watched the video. All six of the ladies were given the potion, and, judging from the time lapse, several months passed with no visible mutation except a change in hair and eye color. They had all sat down to try and process what the recording was telling them.

"As I stated. Physiologically, all of the ladies that were used as test subjects for this run remained human as far as we could ascertain. However, that was not the only shock. The six girls, roughly two months after the application of the serum, began displaying abilities that could only be described as Equestrian Magic."

Richard nearly fell out is his chair when he heard the face say that. "THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE! HOW COULD A HUMAN USE PONY MAGIC!"

"Calm down and let the good professor explain it..." Thomas said, as Richard sat back down in his chair, still in disbelief.

"As you can see from the video below you, the girls were indeed utilizing Equestrian Magic. None of the researchers dared to speak of this to anyone outside of the labs, hiding the girls in plain sight as assistants or whatever have you. However, not every researcher could be so tight lipped. Eventually word leaked back to the main laboratory of the success of CLS-042. When word started coming back down about beginning trials to use the formula as a super-soldier program. Well safe to say I completely lost it. No corporation or government entity, even though in most cases they were one in the same, were going to use my girls as some kind of military experiment. Perhaps the idea was selfish, in hindsight, but I saw those girls as my daughters. As time went on, thought, it became harder and harder hide their existence as successful trial subjects. Meanwhile, what I could only surmise was a Pony-like mentality was starting to emerge in the girls. However, I was absolutely stunned to see it did not cause any active mental conflict, instead it was as if the Pony mentality and the Human mentality were complementing each other.

"I was at a loss, these girls could prove to be the beings that could have finally rectified the error we had committed collectively so many centuries ago. At the same time, if they fell into the wrong hands, they could have been killed or reprogrammed as some kind of living weapon. I couldn't have it, and I wouldn't have that. Eventually, I resolved to not going to let this opportunity go to waste. I had the girls placed in stasis pods, their bodies and minds hopefully would be preserved until a later date. I also instructed my true biological son to escape the labs with the only bits of information that could have begun to undo the locks I placed on this underground facility. No one besides myself, and now whoever is watching this, would know of the exact nature of this facility. As a final act of defiance, I destroyed every record and every trace of CLS-042, so that it would not be reverse engineered and used for dark purposes. I suspect I met my demise, since I am telling you all this through a recording. I will now show you all the final proof that all I have asserted is indeed true."

The video wall then lowered, to reveal six stasis pods. The three men rose up to look at each of them, and what they saw shocked them to the core, or at least even MORE than they were already.

"Mother of God..."

"I... I'm seeing it with my own eyes, but my mind just won't process it..."

"This... this is... crazy..."

A warning sign then flashed across each of the video monitors on the front of the panels.

Please give 2 meters clearance. Final checks are about to be conducted.

The three men all backed up the requisite distance, as they saw some more monitors light up with the apparent conditions of all six of the ladies in stasis.

"Stasis Subjects One through Six: Condition All Green. Brain functionality All Green. No cellular damage reported. Beginning revitalization sequence," a rather shrill computerized voice reported.

"Gents, it looks like we're about to see the reawakening of six Sleeping Beauties," Thomas said, somehow finding it in himself to make light of this dramatic situation.

Something not lost on Harold. "Man if I had a credit for every time you made a joke in this type of situation, I could probably BUY the whole damn company we work for."

"Revitalization complete. Brainwave sequences All Green. Subjects regaining consciousness," the electronic voice reported again, as the six pods began to open.

What laid before the three men who entered the compound were six girls, all apparently ranging in age from their very early twenties to their late teens. All builds, and most striking of all, hair colors in seemingly every hue of the spectrum.

The first to wake up, as it were, was a sky-blue-haired girl with yellow and white streaks all through. "Ugh, what decade is it, I feel like I've been asleep... for... ever..." She almost fainted right then and there but Thomas caught her before she landed on the floor.

As the other girls were waking up, he sat the sky-blue-haired one in the chair he was just sitting in. "Well, little miss. Um, the Year is 499 A.C. if that helps any. New Year's Day is in 3 days last I checked."

"That means, we've been asleep for... um..." the sky-blue-haired girl thought before it struck her, and her eyes went wide. "SEVENTY YEARS! WE'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR SEVENTY YEARS, well give or take a few months. BUT STILL!!!" Thomas quickly grabbed her hands to try and calm her down before she got overexerted flailing about in surprise.

"Well to be honest it doesn't feel like it's been that long... although the fact there is no one here except these men in camouflage implies otherwise," said another of the ladies, possibly the oldest of the group; her hair a more 'blue' blue, fading into white ends.

"If it has been that long, then I guess Gramps has already passed on. I honestly don't know how to feel about that," a muscular girl with orange and gold hair rather sternly. She looked around as if she were being annoyed by something, which the three guys found mildly unsettling.

"It's sad, but inevitable. I wonder what happened to the assistants after we were put in the pods. Since it's been seventy years they've probably all had children and passed on as well," a quiet looking girl said as she patted her clothes down, knocking out the wrinkles, hair green as grass mixed with sunflower yellow 'patches'.

"Ahh, that's too bad. I thought we could have spent some time reminiscing. Maybe if we find their kids or grandkids we could. Then again none of them would probably know what went on down here anyway. Oh well..." said another girl, curly red and pink hair all over her head.

"I just want to get back into the rest of the world. Even while we were awake we hardly set foot outside this place once we got here. And now we've spent the last seventy years asleep down here? I'm ready for a change of scenery, a MAJOR one," an ill-tempered girl with indigo and platinum-blonde streaks said as she looked around at the lab and her fives compatriots and the three strangers.

The six girls eventually began talking to each other, as the three reclaimers huddled up to figure out how exactly to proceed in this situation.

"Well there is very little protocol on how to handle the reclamation of humans. Even if they are human experiments," Richard said, scratching his head all the while.

Harold, similar to the rest of the evening, felt absolutely torn. "Ugh, a part of me wants to leave them. But if they are who the ol' man on the computer says they are, we can't. I mean even if they do use Pony Magic... somehow... they are still young women, girls even."

"I can't believe there are absolutely no records of this experiment that have not survived those seventy years. I'm thinking we just ask them and if that fails we try and convince them," Thomas mused out loud.

"Convince us of what?" the curly red-head asked, peering over into their huddle somehow.

The three men looked at the smiling girl, probably not a day over sixteen, and figured they might as well ask.

"Uh... Okay, I'm not even gonna ask how you snuck up on us like that, so I'll just get to the point. We want to ask the six of you to return to our home and I guess base of operations. We are part of a reclamation crew, and we were sent to reclaim information regarding this facility. And it appears we got way more than we bargained for," Thomas said matter-of-factly, hoping the girls were understanding.

The six ladies quickly huddled themselves, and after a few moments of deliberation, the sky-blue-haired girl reported their collective answer. "We've decided that you got a deal. I guess after seventy years, there isn't anything left for us here. And we're gonna need to get caught up on things." The other five nodded in assent.

Maybe the thing about them being part Pony mentally is true... I wouldn't know of any humans out there that'd just agree to go with strangers just like that... Thomas thought to himself.

"Well that's all well and good. But don't you think you're forgetting something?" the familiar older voice asked, face reappearing on the large monitor above the pods.

"Um... I... don't know?" Thomas asked, the other two men looking as confused as he.

"Old Man Eastson? Is that you? In the computer?!" the sky-blue haired girl asked, the other five girls showing the same confusion as the other four there.

"Wait... how? That..." Richard stammered, he knew that brain uploading technology was heavily restricted, due to it being rather unreliable.

"Of course there were some things lost in translation. But I feel that 90% of me is more than enough proceed on," Eastson said, smiling a rather eerie smile all the while.

"I always thought you were a crazy old man, but this just takes the cake," the orange-haired girl said, arms folded across her rather impressive frame.

"Anyway, I heard you all discussing allowing my girls to return with you to your 'base of operations' as it were. Well I do not think any father, or I would guess now grandfather, would allow such of a thing without a proper chaperon?" Eastson then asked of the nine arranged before him.

"Let me guess, you'd be the chaperon?" Thomas asked, wondering what the old bat was thinking with all the processors behind him.

"And what if we refuse your services?" Harold asked, just wanting to get home and crawl in the bed.

All of the doors to the lab immediately slammed shut, including their only way out in the elevator. Blast shutters then covered up the outer walls of the lab, and red klaxons appeared. "Then I blow everything to kingdom come..." Easton stated rather non-chalantly.

"WHAT! WAS THAT 10% YOUR SANITY?!" Thomas yelled, wondering just what in the hell the uploaded man was thinking

"Just agree to what he said" the blue-haired lady said, whispering into Thomas's ear.

"What?"

"Just agree to what he said, I don't think you or the rest of us are in a position to argue, and I think we'd all want to get out of this rather dank place," she responded, with a stern look in her eye.

Thomas cleared his throat, to get Easton's attention. "After very careful consideration, we have decided accede to your request and allow you to accompany us as well. Although, we don't know exactly how we're supposed to accomplish that."

"Oh that's simple," Eastson started as he turned off the klaxons and reopened the doors. "In the room to your right there should be a black cube about half a meter on each edge. Simply disconnect the cable from the cube and carry that with you."

"Richard, if you don't mind?" Thomas asked of his tech friend.

Richard just threw up his hands and walked over into the indicated room. He returned a couple of minutes later, struggling with the cube somewhat. "Damn, this thing is heavy, what the hell do you have in here Dr. Easton?"

"Oh, it's basically the very 'living' core of my AI-self. I would not suggest dropping it if you want to get out of here in any kind of reasonable timeframe," Eastson replied, his face on one of the sides of the cube facing everyone else.

"May I?" the orange-haired girl asked, indicating she'd be willing to take the load off Richard's hands.

"Sure, knock yourself out," he replied half-thought out. The three men were stunned at the sheer ease by which the girl held the heavy cube.

This is going to be a hell of a ride... Thomas thought to himself as they all walked to the elevator to leave.

Eventually, the six girls climbed into the back of the van with the cube containing Eastson's mind. They then took off on the hour long drive back to the East America First Cluster, where New York once proudly sat.

"So guys, what do you think of tonight's little excursion," Harold asked as he looked back though the bullet-proof window at the six girls apparently just chatting each other and the black cube up.

"I would like to say it wasn't the most insane thing we've found ourselves caught up in, but something tells me we're about get in it deep with those seven," Richard said, going over all the data.

"Yeah, who knows what we might get into with all of them. But, I guess that's just how it goes when you're reclaimers. Sometimes you end up dredging up way more than you bargain for," Thomas said, as he oversaw the autopilot, there being no obstructions or anything on the road.

===== ----- =====

MISSION JOURNAL: DEC 28, 499 A.C.

        Well, tonight was certainly an interesting night. Supposedly we were to just go into this old mansion/laboratory and gather some data. We ended up with the data, six young ladies, and the lead professor's head in a box. I don't know which of the last two is more strange, six healthy young ladies in stasis pods for seventy years... or a professor that managed to upload his mind into a literal black box. Either way, there is definitely more to those girls than they let on just meeting them. Honestly, I went against all my better judgment in letting them accompany us back home to meet our client; but the good Professor Eastson, despite being in a black box, is a good negotiator. The one thing I notice about the girls though: they do have a different air about them. I can't really say for sure if they are really part Pony like the good professor claims. Then again, between the hair and eyes in all colors of the rainbow, well, there is something different about them at least. Anyway I guess I should note down their identities so me and the guys and keep them all straight.

[ Dawn, Age 18 ] Let's see here, Dawn I guess is the unofficial group leader of those six ladies, or at least the one on point. She's about moderate build and measurements. Her hair is, I would guess you can say sky blue, with horizontal streaks of yellow and white; her eyes are the same sky blue, which doesn't seem like a strange eye color on a human, except the blue looks a bit more rich. One of the things I notice about her already is an incredibly inquisitive nature. She spent much of the time walking back to the van talking to Richard about how much technology had and hadn't changed since roughly 430 A.C. when she was put into stasis. I'm guessing Rich is going to have a fun time with her getting her up to speed on how to use current tech should we decide to let them stay.

[ Jewel, Age 21 ] Alright then, Jewel. Well the first thing you notice about Jewel when compared to the other five of them is that she's clearly the oldest of the six of them, although it couldn't be by too much. The thing is she carries herself with an definite air of confidence and authority. This leads me to suspect she is truthful when she said that before the experiment, she was the daughter of a prominent manager for a Western American mega-corporation. I didn't bother to pry what happened, although I can surmise there was a falling out and she figured it was either this or live on the street, or worse. Anyway, she is built like a typical fashion model you see in the holo-magazines in the upper-crust homes. I think only Peaches is taller than her. Her hair is a more rich blue than Dawn, and the tips seem to fade quickly to white though, as if she constantly dips her hair in bleach an inch or so up. Her eyes are the same rich blue, definitely not a normal human hue but, like the others, you adjust to seeing it after awhile.

[ Stormy, Age 17 ] Hoo boy, Stormy. Little Miss Snarky this one. Well she definitely will tell you exactly what she is thinking when she thinks it. I'd assume she means well, but she definitely needs to learn a little tact. She also has a definite impatient streak, and maybe some mild claustrophobia; it took us a good five minutes to convince her to get in the back of the van. Although, when you're around her, she just seems to give off this... electricity. I wonder if it's actual electricity or just some strange passive psyche effect. Anyway, she's the second shortest of the six, I think only Bubbles (odd name that) is shorter than her. Also a bit flat chested, might be some of the source of her consternation. Her hair is a pretty dark blue-purple color, I think she calls it indigo, with some streaks of very pale platinum blonde; her eyes seems to mimic that color pattern, mostly indigo with a bit of pale yellow mixed in.

[ Demure/Demi, Age 20 ] Well whatever Stormy is, Demi isn't. She's almost apologetic and passive to a fault, compared to how aggressive and forward Stormy is. Despite this, I will have to say she is quite the looker. Definite model material, but most definitely not a model's personality. Who knows, it might be why she attempts to be so non-descript, avoiding attention and whatnot. Demi also seems to share some of Dawn's intellectual traits, particularly interested in history. She's about medium height, roughly the same as Dawn which puts her in the middle of the pack; although, truth be told, she's probably the most stacked of the six. I hope that doesn't reflect too badly on me that I noticed that, but, well sometimes I can't help it. Anyway, her hair is kinda, grass green with bright yellow blotches, like sunflowers growing in a open field. Hah, look at me the poet. I just hope our Pony 'housekeeper' doesn't try and eat her hair while she's asleep.

[ Peaches, Age 18 ] Boy, now this girl is a real piece of work. Peaches is a definitely an imposing figure, despite her gender and age. Built like a cage fighter, quite muscular while retaining her curves; on top of that, she's the tallest of the entire group, and is even taller than Rich. Myself and Harold thought it was just a fluke that she was able to carry Prof. Eastson's cube without much effort, so we tried it for a few moments. That cube must be filled with lead or something, I couldn't believe how heavy it was. And us without our strength-enhancing gear. Yet she, again, lifted and carried the cube like it was an empty cardboard box. To be honest it made us feel a little inadequate. Anyway, before I forget, Miss Peaches has orange and peach colored hair, with some golden yellow tips like Jewels. I wonder if they styled each other or something before going under.

[ Bubbles, Age 16 ] Well, this girl is also a piece of work, and for completely different reasons. She's a true motormouth; though somehow she manages to remain on topic no matter how many words leaves her mouth. She also has a fairly laid-back attitude, like she doesn't have a care in the world. It would be unfair to call her silly or truly uncaring, however. Anyone can look into those rose-red eyes of hers and see a million gears turning. I do hope the spunky-but-otherwise-laid-back red-head routine isn't just some kind of facade, otherwise the rest of us might be in some real trouble. Anyway, like I wrote already she's a redhead, although some bits of her hair looks more of a magenta or rose-red color. She's also the shortest of the six girls, but still has a relatively nice figure. I seriously hope I'm not going to get myself in trouble talking about how each of them look, but whatever the professor did or whatever force got them into his lab certainly knew how to pick 'em.

Anyway, we should be arriving at 'home base' before long. There should be enough sleeping bags and blankets to have the girls sleep relatively to themselves if they so choose. I can't think a few hours have to waking up from a seventy-year stasis they'd want to share a bed with a guy.

This is Squad Leader Thomas Pullman signing out...