“Wahooooo!” called a voice joyfully, and people walking the main street of Brightly looked up to see the form of Darter diving downwards, his silver-tipped pinions flashing as the afternoon sun caught them.
Pulling out of his dive at just over head height, the young pegasus slalomed between the electrical poles that studded the thoroughfare, throwing in the occasional roll as he did so, and the beacon of happiness that shone from young pegasus brought smiles to the lips of everyone who had the privilege to the see the sight.
Darter pulled up and away as he cleared the last few wooden barriers, pulling back up where his sister and Ram slowly cruised along at roughly a hundred meters in the air.
“Why didn’t you guys join me?” Darter asked, instinctively pulling an Immelman turn so that he could pace alongside the other two.
“You know I’m not as fast as you,” Skylark answered, her normally shy smile replaced by one at least as wide as that of her brother. “Besides, someone had to make sure Recon was doing okay.”
“Cool pony name!” enthused Darter, side-slipping a bit so that he was nearly touching the green on green wingtips of the new pegasus.
“Hey, not so close,” Recon advised, missing a few wingbeats before recovering. “This isn’t as easy as you two make it look.”
“Give her some room,” Skylark added. “Are you okay, Recon?”
“I… I am,” responded the pony who had been Warrant Officer Ram until a couple of hours ago. “This… this is incredible. I’m flying, actually flying. Wait, how am I flying?”
Recon staggered again as her mind locked up, refusing to accept the reality that her eyes and body were relaying to her. The pony started to fall out of the sky, only to be grabbed by Skylark a moment before gravity turned the descent into a crash.
“Don’t think about how to do what you’re doing, just concentrate on what you want your body to do, and it will do it,” Skylark said with a soothing voice, calming their bodyguard in much the same way her father would calm a spooked farm animal. “Me and Darter are here to catch you.”
“Roger,” Recon replied, responding to the positive reinforcement and letting her new body’s instincts handle the job of staying airborne. “The question stands though. How are any of us flying without magic?”
“It’s gotta be the apples,” Darter supplied, doing a complete aileron roll around the other two ponies to wind up where he started. “They had enough magic to make you into a pony, and we had an apple each too.”
“Makes sense. Hey, there’s my captain’s office,” Recon said. “I’d better report in.”
“You want us to make sure you land okay?” Skylark asked, mothering the new flyer a bit.
“Well, I am supposed to be watching you kids, so it kinda works out if you land with me,” Recon replied, beginning a long slow glide down.
A few minutes later two winged ponies touched down with all the heaviness of a feather, while the third landed in a heap more akin to a sack of potatoes than a winged creature of the air.
“You’ll get better the more you fly,” Darter said, “almost no one does a good landing the first time.”
“Thanks,” replied Recon, picking herself up off the ground. “I’ll try to be quick, but if this takes awhile I’ll get the captain to give you a ride home.”
“Won’t need it,” Darter tossed back, fluffing his wings out with a smile.
Chuckling to herself, Ram, or Recon rather, walked over to the door of the small cabin that Captain Malinski had rented out as his headquarters for the duration of their unit’s stay in Brightly. Recon let the clopping of her hooves echo in her ears for a moment, marvelling at how natural the sound was, which led to her mind again wondering how she was walking on four legs, which led to her stumbling as her conscious mind ran at cross purposes to what her unconscious mind was busy doing.
The stumble turned into several quick, staggering steps as the pegasus tried to regain her balance, causing her to lurch directly into an orderly who was bringing her captain a very late lunch.
“Dammit!” cried the orderly as fur and feathers directly impacted into their knees, sending the contents of a cup and a paper bag up into the air briefly to splatter down directly on Recon’s back.
“Gah, what the hell?!” Recon exclaimed as the slightly cooler than hot drink seeped into her back fur and the remains of a large sandwich slid off her shoulders to plop onto the ground.
“Everything okay out there?” called Malinski from inside, hearing the commotion.
“Just a small collision, Sir,” called back the orderly.
“Are you sure? Because it sounded like—” Malinksi paused as he opened the door and took in the scene before his door. “My pumpkin spice latte!”
“Sorry sir. Entirely my fault. I’m still getting used to this,” Recon said by way of apology.
“Ram? Is that you?” the captain asked, arching an eyebrow in suspicious surprise but recognizing the voice of his subordinate.
“Yes sir,” Recon answered sheepishly. Flavoured coffee dripping off of her was not how she had seen this moment in her head.
“You encountered something magical and interacted with it, didn’t you?” Malinski asked, with an air of disappointment.
“It was just an apple,” Recon replied, trying to justify her actions. “Just an apple… off of a big, glowing… tree.”
“She’s not in trouble, is she?” Darter asked, swooping up to hover in front of the big captain’s face. “We didn’t mean to get her in trouble.”
“We gave her the apple,” added Skylark shyly, the pegasus presence beginning to draw eyes. “Oh, you left the rest of it, Recon. Here you go.”
A half eaten apple arched out in a parabola towards Recon, only to be intercepted by the captain in an automatic grab. Malinski looked at the fruit for several long moments, the crisp white fruit still fresh and inviting while the rainbow hued skin warned of the magical nature of the apple in his hand.
The urge to take a bite was strong. Surprisingly so, and the captain began to raise the apple to his lips before the sound of flapping wings reminded him what the probable consequences of his actions would be.
“Orderly, could you please run Darter and Skylark home,” the captain gently commanded, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards as he noted drips of his drink falling from the pegasus in front of him. “Officer Pumpkin Spice and I have some things to discuss.”
“Yes sir,” snapped the orderly, its seriousness somewhat ruined by the snort of amusement that preceded it.. “Come on you two. I’ll show you what the inside of a Sea King looks like.”
The two youngsters headed off in the direction indicated, the distraction allowing both the captain and his officer to enter the small two room cabin.
“Towel?” asked Malinski, handing over the length of fabric after a grateful nod. The captain watched the warrant officer clean herself off as best she could as while he took his seat.
“How was the acclimation? Any ill-effects?” he asked, once the pony finished removing the remains of his snack from her body.
“No sir,” Recon replied, pulling herself to a four-legged stance of attention. “Everything seems to be as previously reported. It takes about an hour to get used to the change before normal function returns. Higher abilities take longer to master.”
“As my pumpkin spice found out,” the captain noted, accepting the soiled towel back and tossing it into a hamper. “You know, we do have standing orders for personnel not to interact with anything magical for a reason. Which is why we are letting Foxfire and her family be while they work out what those swords meant.”
“Swords, sir?” Recon asked, confused.
“Something for later,” noted Malinski, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice. “Anyway. At ease, and permission to speak freely. Why did you take a bite of the forbidden fruit of the tree?”
“Instinct. Habit. Maybe some automatic reaction,” Recon replied, thinking for a moment and Malinski noted with amusement that the new pony was using one of her wings to rub her chin in thought. “It just felt like the right thing to do. Sorry sir, it’s all I can think of.”
“Fair enough for now. We’ll do a full debrief later, but for now get yourself over to Medevac and have her give you a full checkup,” commanded the captain.
“Yes sir, “ Recon responded, snapping out a salute with her wing.
“Get going, Pumpkin Spice,” humoured the captain. “I want to see you back before dinner for that debrief.”
“I choose ‘Recon’ as a name, Sir,” politely corrected the mare, fluffing out her camouflage coloured wings. “Seemed to be appropriate, and I really don’t like that drink.”
“Before dinner, Officer,” cautioned the captain, getting up to see the pegasus out. “And you really should try it sometime. It’s quite good.”
After his new pegasus officer had left the captain was left to ponder the remains of the apple that had transformed his officer. It sat there, innocently looking back at him while he looked at it as if it was about to grow mismatched horns and a fang. Finally, the urge to do something became overwhelming.
Pulling out a knife, the captain carved into the remains of the apple, and avoiding the temptation to lick the juice off his fingers, extracted five ordinary looking seeds. Nodding in satisfaction as he set the seeds down on a piece of paper towel, he picked up the handset of the old punch button phone on his desk and placed a call.
“Sergeant? It’s Captain Malinski. Get over to Medevac’s clinic and talk to Pumpkin Spice, I mean Ram, I mean Recon. Herne damn these shifting names,” cursed the captain fervently. “Either way, get over to the clinic and talk to Warrant Officer Ram. She’s now a chocolate brown pegasus with orange highlights in her mane and tail.”
Surprised squawking came from the receiver of the phone, to which the captain answered, “I know, which is why you are going to ask her where her tree that did that to her is. Once you have the directions you will post a guard on it, but not before bringing me several apples from the tree. Do NOT eat any of the apples, and do NOT let anyone else eat any apples or near the tree. Understood?”
More surprised squawks came from the phone to which the captain added, “you don’t have to understand it, just do it, and I’m fairly sure as long as you don’t eat any apples you’ll be fine.”
Hanging the phone up, the captain then punched in another number, absentmindedly gathering up the remains of the fruit onto the plate that had been intended to hold his lunch. “Yeah, this is Malinsky over in Brightly. I’m going to need the fastest courier we have possible to make a delivery direct to the PM. How fast can you get a jet over to Bella Bella?”
More squawking came from the phone.
“Excellent, I’ll have a chopper there to meet the jet,” Malinski said, sucking the juice off a finger. “Let me know if there are any problems.”
Captain Malinski was just about to set the receiver back down onto its cradle when he suddenly realized where his finger was. His comment of “Oh shit” was matched with a sudden itching sensation at the base of his spine, and a moment later his pants became very uncomfortable as the mass of a green and gold tail spilled up and over his waistband.
“Moron Malinski strikes again,” sighed the captain, taking off his regulation trousers and extremely glad he still had fingers and hands to do it with. Curiously, Malinksi wiggled his hips, looking over his shoulder as the new knee length mass of hair shimmied back and forth with his movements.
With an air of self-flagellation, the Canadian army officer picked up his phone one last time, “Corporal Baird, is there anyone in town that can alter pants?”
Evening approached, and with it an early supper as twelve ponies gathered. Five children of Brightly, three born of Equestrian soil, and the four adults who cared for them with body and soul. Food was piled high on tables and drink flowed as chatter went back and forth about the day’s events.
“And then it made me talk…”
“The apples were so good…”
“It was like being fire…”
“Recon is real neat…”
“I carved a sliver off an engine block…”
“And we flew...”
“Hey everybody,” Thunder called, silencing the multiple conversations. “Heh, I wonder if maybe we should start saying ‘everypony’.”
“That’s what we say in Equestria!” interjected Applebloom.
“Then I’ll take it under consideration,” Thunder replied, smiling toward his young charge. “Anyway, I just wanted to thank all of you for coming. It’s been a busy day for all of us, and it’s not over yet.”
“Oh?” responded Iron Heart, golden bronze on one side, snow white fur on the other with her own length of empowered metal.
“I got a heads up from Captain Malinski about an hour ago. Apparently the prime minister is going to be addressing the UN, and he said that it was going to directly affect all of us here,” Thunder concluded, taking a sip of fruit punch.
“He’s what?” demanded a concerned Foxfire, tail giving a few quick lashes of agitation before she calmed herself. “He didn’t run anything past the BAZ council. Darrell would have let me know.”
“I don’t think Trudeau really takes the BAZ seriously,” observed Windweaver, eyeing a bulge in one of her daughter’s saddlebags suspiciously for a moment. “He essentially created it, but I don’t think he really views it as any real check on his influence here… Okay, Skylark. What’s in your bag?”
“Um, just some apples,” replied the pegasus sheepishly. “I grabbed a few before the tree got mad.”
“Uh oh,” said all four adults in one voice.
“How does a tree get mad?” Iron Hoof asked, curious. His gladius in a scabbard made for it at his side.
“Well, um… after we looked inside that big helicopter I sort of… snuck back,” Skylark explained, embarrassment purpling her black furred cheeks.
“We’ll talk later about sneaking around, young lady,” warned Windweaver, adding, “but go ahead, tell all of us what you saw.”
“Well, I was just putting some apples in my bags when I saw some soldiers come to the tree. Some of them started guarding it, I guess, but another one started picking apples,” Skylark recounted, ears and eyes downcast in dread at an approaching scolding. “He tried to climb up to grab a couple more, when the branch under him broke.”
“Uh oh,” chorused the CMC, as one.
“Zapp apple trees don’t take kindly to bein’ ponyhandled,” Apple Bloom added.
“What happened next?” Seeker asked, ears focused forward and eyes wide.
“There was a sort of growl, and light, and then the tree had a shield around it,” Skylark continued.
“Like one of mine?” asked Shield Maiden, interrupting her friend. “Oops, sorry. Go ahead.”
For their part, Windweaver, Thunder, Iron Heart, and Foxfire let the tale unfold from the reticent pegasus while they shared concerned looks with each other.
“Like one of yours,” Skylark agreed, with a nod, and the motion made her ears perk up a bit. “But it wasn’t orange like yours, it was all colours. Like the apples.”
Skylark opened up her bag and upended it. Six spectral hued apples tumbled across the floor, one coming to rest directly against Foxfire’s hoof.
“That’s… “ the unicorn began, searching for the words. “That’s magic.”
“In an apple,” Thunder noted, catching Iron Heart’s eye. “This changes everything.”
“Better turn on the TV,” Iron Heart responded. “We’re going to want to hear what he has to say…”
The cavernous room of the General Assembly was uncharacteristically silent as a fit man in a dark blue suit took to the podium.
“Ladies and Gentleman,” began Justin Trudeau, standing before the 193 members of the United Nations. “Mesdames et Messieurs. I am Justin Trudeau, and I have the honour to be the Prime Minister of Canada.”
A sea of faces looked back at him. Every member desk was filled, each of them having received a discreet word that this was a speech vital to their interests and not to be missed.
“Over a century ago,” continued Trudeau, “a Canadian lay in the darkness of a mine shaft following a terrible collapse that trapped and badly injured him. In his pain and suffering he cried out for help, and through the hand of Providence that call for aid was heard and answered.
“Those who responded did not ask who it was that was crying out in the darkness. They did not ask for passports, or background checks, or even where the call was coming from. Their only response was, “Yes, I will help you.”
“And in the fashion of Canadians, when the man was restored to health and vitality, when the freely offered gifts of friendship had made that once dying and desperate man into a pillar of his community, he paid those gifts forward. He gave freely, as had been given to him. When others cried out in pain or need his response was, ‘Yes, I will help you.”
“Now, three children of the distant land that helped that Canadian have been washed up upon our cosmic shore. They are adrift and lost among the vastness of the dimensions between worlds. Cut off from their home and loved ones, they suffer the pain of loss, of never knowing if they will ever see home again.
“In the face of the anguish and pain they feel, with the example of their Princesses, with the example of John Leung, and that of the people of Brightly, British Columbia to guide me, there is only one response I can have.
“Oui, je vais t’aider. Yes, I will help you.
“Applebloom, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle. I will help, and all of Canada will help you with me. We will find your home and restore you to your parents and loved ones. We will bring to bear all the resources and technical knowledge of this great, wide land that you find yourselves in. Not only that, I call now for the aid of every nation of the vast Commonwealth, of which Canada is a proud part, for their assistance in this endeavor.
“I also ask for the help of all of our many allies around the world, of all the nations to which Canada has ever been a friend to down through the years. We ask for your help that we may return the gift of Friendship that was given to us, so many years ago.
“We ask for this help in the name of all humanity, to help forge the common bonds that should exist between all thinking peoples of the cosmos. I invite you all to join me in saying, ‘Yes, I will help you.’
“To formalize this arrangement, I have brought with me a set of accords for your consideration.
“The Brightly Accords will form a bond of cooperation and friendship between all signatory countries. Accorded nations agree to fully and completely share all discoveries and knowledge regarding magic, magical effects, and ways to breach the dimensional barriers between ourselves, and the home world of the ponies, Equestria.
“In addition, every nation that signs the Brightly Accords also pledges that within the next six months they will pass laws guaranteeing that the rights of any member of Equus Sapiens within their borders will be equal to that of their own citizens, for when we make contact with Equestria again, and the question of that is when, not if, it must be as equal partners reaching out together into a future brilliant with unlimited possibilities for commerce, for learning, and for exploration.
‘I know, I know that I am asking much of you, and much of your great nations. I am asking for an effort as great as that which put a man on the moon. No, greater. For when John F. Kennedy gave his famous speech challenging his nation to go to the moon, his nation already knew much of what needed to be done. All that was needed was to learn how to do those things.
“Today, we do not even know that. We have only taken the first few steps on this great journey beyond the stars, which makes the need for cooperation even greater. Through chance and Providence, Canada has found itself as the leading authority and source of magic and magical discoveries, and many of you have accused Canada of hoarding these gifts, with we admit, some justification.
“But, that ends today.
“In the spirit of cooperation and in light of the sacrifices I am asking all of you to make, I have brought with me digital copies of every piece of information that Canada has on Equestria, her peoples, and the magic that seems to be an everyday part of their lives. Any nation that pledges today to sign the Accords, whether they eventually ratify them or not, will be given a copy of this data.
“Every nation that fully ratifies the Accords will receive full and immediate access to any new information as it is discovered, as well as access to physical samples such as this,” Trudeau paused, reaching down to pull out a rainbow coloured apple.
“This is the fruit of a tree found growing near Brightly, and every gram of it is brimming with magic, from seeds to skin. I have one of these for each permanent member of the UN Security Council, as proof that Canada is willing to share what we have with the rest of the world.
“The ponies of Equestria need your help. Canada needs your help. We are willing to share what we have so that all may benefit. Will you help us and share in the brightly lit future that is sure to come, or will you hide from the light and keep to yourselves? Thank you.”
And the vast chamber of the General Assembly of the United Nations erupted.