//------------------------------// // Human Intervention // Story: X-Com Equestria: Apocalypse Unknown // by Crimson ONayl //------------------------------// The semi-organic hull was coming apart under the sustained barrage from the human ship. In truth, the Micronoids believed that that they had wiped out the last of the humans; after X-Com came to their dimension and destroyed all that they had built there, they had counter-attacked. Shutting down the dimension gates manually had been a stroke of genius, preventing the elite soldiers and powerful ships of X-Com from defending their planet. Their Uber-Ship had crushed all in its path, swiping aside the puny ships of the local defence forces and brushing off the lasers and missiles thrown at it. It must have been a majestic sight; a ship the size of a town hovering over the Mega-City, blazing away with dimension lasers and missiles at anything that dared resist. Ultimately, the humans achieved what could be called a pyrrhic victory. They stopped the aliens from taking Earth… By nuking their last and only city. The entire Earth was now completely uninhabitable; the rest of the planet polluted by the destruction of an ancient alien colony ship 40 years ago. Humanity had fled into the one city, leaving much behind, but surviving what could have been the apocalypse. And now this last bastion had been destroyed, denying the Micronoids a new world, their own having been rendered barely inhabitable long ago. Full of anger and spite, the Micronoid Uber-Ship took to space and obliterated the Lunar colony; before moving on to Mars and turning the mining operations there into dust. They then returned to their home dimension, thinking the last of humanity had been crushed. How wrong they were. They had still won, humanity was dead with no hope of recovery; but when the Micronoids returned to their home, they found X-Com, the remnants of MegaPol, and various human survivors waiting for them in a capital ship to rival their own. The moment the aliens appeared, the human ship began firing its main weapon; a bizarre combination of laser and plasma weaponry. The laser shot had burned through the shields immediately and the plasma shots soon melted the emitters permanently; scared and defenceless, the aliens decided to forgo any attempts at returning fire and simply tried to run. The humans pursued, firing relentlessly. *** Commander Otto Xander leant on the railing that separated the captain’s chair from the rest of the bridge and observed the immense UFO, feeling a rush of vindication as he saw several large chunks flaking off the parts of hull closest to them. His fingers tightened on the railing as the bridge lights dimmed again, a sympathetic response to the power drain of the Zeus Cannon firing. The torn hull of the UFO seemed to melt and shift as the laser hit, then came apart in a spray of atomized metal and organics as the plasma bolt followed the laser home. “Captain! Dimensional energy surge coming from within that UFO, they’re creating a gate to get away!” Captain Roderick Blaine nodded his acknowledgement at the ensign and turned to Xander. “If they’re trying to get away, then they’re going down for sure. I’m telling you this Commander, I’m going after them.” Xander grimaced and nodded. “OK, I’ll get a team together, if they crash…” Blaine didn’t shift his gaze from his console and readouts displayed on it. “When they crash Commander, you had better do a good job of clearing them out. Don’t fuck up again.” Xander sighed and commandeered an intercom console. *** “X-Com and volunteer forces gear up and prepare for Skyranger deployment. UFO is fleeing this dimension and we’re all hungry for blood. Make them pay. Xander out.” Xander’s voice echoed throughout the spacious hangar, interrupting the hurried movements of troops and civilians as they rushed from place to place, trying to make sense of the chaos that filled the hangar. The hangar was a mess of people, equipment and tents. With several Lightning Interceptors dotted among the sea of people and tents among the chaos; and a single Skyranger, sitting proudly in front of the bay doors, wings folded inward and name displayed in bold white text: Mercury. Flight-Lieutenant Roderick ‘Crow’ Mkoll was sitting in the cockpit of Mercury, silently going over what had been lost. It couldn’t be put into words or coherent thoughts. Earth was gone, the human race was dead. Mega-Primus was just another ruined and irradiated city sitting on Earth’s surface. Any hope for the Lunar colony and the Mars mining colony surviving had been dashed with the footage of that UFO descending upon the Lunar colony and the obvious lack of any facilities on Mars, all of them having been turned into so much red dust. But they were getting their revenge. Even with their modern ships destroyed and dimensional weaponry inactive from lack of power, they were going to take the fight to them, and wipe out the aliens once and for all. It was fortunate that the MacArthur had large cargo holds, several of them still filled with 80 year old technology and weaponry; Relics from the first alien war. Both sides where now in remarkably similar positions. Both in their greatest ships, both extinct save for those on the ships. Mkoll smiled as he opened the Skyranger ramp. Although both sides may be in similar positions, the humans were the ones chasing the aliens to their doom. *** “Alright then folks, we have fourteen seats in this bird, that’s one-four, I’m going to pick and then it’s first come, first served for those of you that want some revenge.” Jester stood at the base of the Skyranger ramp and faced the small crowd of armed humans. She could see a variety of weapons and armour; there were a few men in the distinctive flight-suits of MegaPol’s Griffons, each clutching a machine gun to their chest. Some of the volunteers wore the red and blue of Mega-Primus’ finest, Lawpistols buckled around their waists; one volunteer stood out in a suit and dress trousers, red-tinted shades giving the figure an air of mystery. Ironically enough, the organisation with the most distinctive logo and reputation didn’t have a recognisable uniform; each of Jester’s fellow X-Com comrades wore and wielded what they wanted, and they were going on the Skyranger no matter what. Slinging the laser rifle over her shoulder, Jester began singling out the X-Com troops from the rest of the rabble. “Titus, up and at em’ bro.” She pointed at a tall man in thick armour, a tall rectangular shield in his singular hand. The spider-like arms of the servo harness on his back folded neatly into set grooves. The big man grinned as he strode past his sister. “Still calling me ‘Titus’ Atlanta?” “Har-dee-har, shut up Tank and get on the damn ship. You! In the red, I didn’t catch your name during the exodus, but you’re insane, and a good shot; so get on board.” The red-armoured soldier rested the autorifle on his shoulder and smirked. “Rook O’Nayl; yeah, a rookie called Rook, funny that; and insane? Why I’ll just have to take that as a compliment.” With a chuckle, Rookie O’Nayl followed Tank up the ramp. “Cheery fellow, alright; AJ, Ryan aaaand… where’s Cameron?” Ryan shifted his grip on the obscenely large anti-tank rifle and shrugged, the woman next to him smiled. “Oh he’ll be here aaany second now, he had to relive himself.” Sure enough, the final member of the X-Com team ran up to the crowd panting and clutching his side. “Sorry Jester, the closest WC was literally a mile away.” “Whatever.” Jester walked up the ramp and strapped herself in before shouting:- “Eight seats left! Come and get em’!” The bodyguard with the shades, 4 MegaPol officers, one of the Griffons and a Sirian in distinctive green robes claimed 7 of the seats. The eighth seat was taken by another Griffon, but was booted out by a figure in an augmetic frame and trenchcoat. As the too-slow volunteers tromped off the Skyranger, Otto Xander strapped himself into the seat he’d stolen and turned to the Sirian next to him. “You guys really fucked up you know that? Bunch of alien worshipping cultists; I hear your temples were razed first.” The olive skinned Sirian looked Xander dead in the eye as he spoke. “You know what? I can understand why you feel the need to be hostile, after all; most of the Cult of Sirius were a bunch of alien worshipping madmen. What you don’t know Commander, is that we used to stand for something much, much better than that; when I was initiated, some 15 years ago now; we were looking for signs of the aliens from the frontier wars. We wanted to find them to make peace dammit. Then that fanatic succeeded Roscoe Ulysses Sirius and started worshipping the human-hating buggers.” The Sirian patted the scabbard at his belt. “You probably know of me outside my activities with the Cult; I’m Dominic Whitlow, champion fencer.” O’Nayl snorted. “Only fencer now.” Dominic frowned and opened his mouth to reply but was hushed by Crow over the intercom. “Alright folks, the UFO has passed through the new gate and is on the other side, Captain Blaine wants us to launch now and try to establish a foothold; that UFO was too heavily damaged to do anything other than crash, so expect ground attack imminently.” There was a long pause. “Dr Bezial has also asked me to remind you that this could be an entirely new world on the other side of that gate. We might be going to the Ethereal homeworld for all we know; but just remember if you see a native alien race, assume friendly until proven otherwise.” The dull whirr of the Skyranger’s jets rose to a scream as Mercury lifted off the deck and slid out of the hangar bay doors. The people in the hangar stopped to watch the heavy dropship lift into the air; some observers muttered prayers, others curses; some people shouldered weapons and envied those aboard, and others smiled inwardly, feeling as if they’d been spared for the next hour at least. *** “Brace for transition nausea.” The blunt nose of the Skyranger entered the shimmering energy field that formed an orb around the pyramid-shaped gate. There was a sudden sense of serenity. A bizarre lull in the screaming engines and unnerving rattling that accompanied a laden Skyranger in flight. The energy field washed over the outer skin of the aircraft and sent crackling arcs of static through the interior, rookies and volunteers alike yelped as they attempted to dodge the blue arcs. The veteran X-Com troops attempted to calm them, reassure them that the arcs where normal and harmless. “Look, just ignore them. Let’s find something else to think about, like…” Jester struggled to find a topic. Tank cut in. “Half of us don’t know each other and we need to know who’s who when we land; so, introductions, starting with the Griffon, name and title, go!” The Griffon was pressing himself back into his seat with his eyes shut tight. “Officer William Kronsky, Howling Griffons Air Strike Team.” “Good work Will, tall dark and sunglasses go!” “David Fitzpatrick, Ex-President of Mega-Primus.” Tank was speechless, his mouth struggled to form words as Xander took over. “War truly is the great equaliser Dave, didn’t recognize you with the glasses. OK, next up, you four.” Xander indicated the 4 MegaPol officers. “Officer Beth Jones.” “Police Sergeant Dan Sterling.” “Officer Victor Kerlav” “Pilot Brad Vickers.” “A pilot eh? tick around and don’t die, we could use some more of them. Who’s next? rookie, you’re up.” “Rook O’Nayl, X-Com Rookie.” Xander paused for a moment, thrown off by the soldier’s name. “Is that really your name?” “My parents wanted to call me Isombfiplicity but then decided that a Hybrid name would just be shortened to Felicity and I’d become confused about my sexuality.” Rook deadpanned. “Crow, Jester, Tank, O’Nayl needs a nickname ASAP; I’m an old man and likely to get confused.” “You know my rules Otto, I don’t give nicknames until they’ve done something memorable and unique.” Crow stated over the intercom. “Dammit Roderick look at the camera! He has all red armour and purple hair, that’s pretty damn unique!” Rook seemed to be enjoying the spectacle. “I was going for the unique look, glad you like it.” He lowered his voice and spoke in a stage whisper. “Don’t tell the engies what I did to the armour, they won’t like it.” Tank and Jester, who had been debating in hushed whispers; broke and faced the group. “Crimson.” They said in unison. “Crimson O’Nayl? I’ll take it.” Jester nodded enthusiastically. “You damn right you’ll take it, Rook.” Tank put on a mock frown. “I was all for calling you Felicity but you’re lucky Atlanta has a conscience. She said tha-“ A blinding flash and the screech of stressed metal silenced the trooper. From the outside, the Skyranger appeared to dissolve into nothingness; from the pilot’s cockpit, the world appeared to peel away to reveal a picturesque winter landscape, complete with snowy village in a valley. The sight was marred only by the crash-site of the UFO; a smoking tear in the pristine white blanket of snow. *** Winter had struck Gold Valley hard this year, as it had every year since the beginning of recorded history. The many large hay farms, whose growing produce gave Gold Valley its hue and name, had finished the last of the harvesting work, and the year’s produce had been safely stored in tall silos. It was about this time of year that the Gold Valley Trade Company came into its own, keeping the town of Harvest and the outlying farms fed during the cold winter months. The town of Harvest was always busy, even under the blanket of snow. Ponies of all types and colours went to and fro, ducking into the shops and stalls that covered the marketplace in the middle. The farms of Gold Valley had been established long before Harvest, so Harvest had been built with the farms in mind. A large ring of houses formed the outer edge of the town, occupied by salesponies and bean counters that worked in the middle ring of Harvest. The middle ring was full of bulk trading companies and smaller shipping firms. The farms of Gold Valley sent their produce all over Equestria and beyond; from Canterlot to Saddle Arabia, you could always purchase G.V. stamped hay bales. The centre of Harvest was dominated by a sprawl of market stalls in the circular space of the marketplace. The marketplace was also ringed by several small brick-and-mortar grocers; where the people of harvest would buy their food, and where the farmers would sell their produce. It was one ordinary winter day in Harvest. Ponies walked, ponies talked and ponies shopped; each one of them wrapped up warm in scarfs and saddles. As was always the way with such events; it seemed improbable that everyone had gone about their daily business as usual beforehand. It started with the smallest of tells. An almost inaudible hum in the air; pegasi feathers bristled, unicorn horns ached; all appeared to be mere symptoms of the biting cold. By the time it was obvious that what was happening was so much more, there was nothing that could be done. Pegasi dropped out of the sky as their wings seized up and clouds stopped being tangible to hooves. Earth ponies in the marketplace looked on in confusion and horror as unicorns fell to the ground scratching and pulling at their horns, writhing in agony; soon, the marketplace was littered with the twitching forms of unicorns and pegasi, their racial aspects rebelling without warning. And as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The relieved ponies had little time for speculation or confusion as a blinding flash lit up the sky; amplified by the snow all around. An immense disc snapped into reality out of nowhere, shattering the sky with a deafening peal of thunder. The ship was plummeting toward the ground, leaving a trail of oily black smoke and shedding debris as it came. Several large pieces of wreckage fell into Harvest; one chunk dove into the ground on the outskirts of the town and was carried into the outer ring by its momentum, crushing a number of houses as it went. Another piece landed dead centre of the marketplace and stuck fast, embedded in the ground. A third piece of debris came in at a particularly low angle, hit the middle district and bounced back up, cartwheeling through the marketplace and back into the middle ring on the other side of the town. The main body of the ship crashed into the fields several miles away from Harvest and dug a kilometre-long furrow into the ground behind it. It came to rest scraping against a solitary farmstead, still standing despite the immense quake of the ship impacting the ground at speed. Unfortunately for Harvest, and the ponies inhabiting it, those chunks of debris weren't empty. *** Crow’s hands flew over and around the multiple control panels in the cockpit of Mercury in an attempt to bring its systems back online. The transition to another dimension had forced an immense amount of power through some of the more delicate electrical systems of the Skyranger and caused the power plant to cut out. There had been no time to shield the Skyranger against this, and all of the X-Com built ships that were resistant to the energy surge had been annihilated. 2000 feet above ground level; roughly, it was difficult to get accurate readings on an alien world; but they were not particularly high and nose-diving without power. Crow’s deft hands brought the starter motor sputtering to life, and slowly coaxed the main power plant back to life. 1000 feet. With full control restored, Crow pulled at the controls and angled the wings to tilt them back to a horizontal orientation; kicking the primary jets into full power, the Skyranger appeared to rotate, hover still and shoot forward in a swift example of near-impossible aerial agility. Crow brought Mercury into a wide circle around the town, paying particular attention to the plumes of smoke being sent up by the three chunks of UFO in the town. Squinting out of the canopy, he could make out a number of brightly coloured figures in the wide open area in the centre of the town; all seemingly backing away from a piece of UFO embedded in the dirt. Without warning, the chunk of debris fell into several pieces, revealing its contents to the humans above. It was a large piece, at three stories tall, and wider than the MacArthur’s hangar; and it was packed full of aliens. As the shard’s walls crumbled into rubble and dust, a megaspawn strode out into the daylight, crushing several stalls under its wagon-sized feet. It paused to regard the ranks of ponies watching it, fear clearly etched on their faces, even from Crow’s altitude. The megaspawn roared something unintelligible and fired its shoulder mounted weaponry into the helpless crowd. The ponies, upon seeing some of their number dissolved into their component atoms by the hostile alien; panicked and ran. Running without order or sense, driven by sheer instinct; survival the only thing considered. More aliens clambered out of the wreckage behind the megaspawn and joined in with the one-sided battle, firing indiscriminately. The ponies were unable to defend themselves against the stranded invaders, and were cut down in droves by the disoriented shapes of Anthropods and Skeletoids; stumbling out of the wreck firing Devastator Cannons with wild abandon. *** Mercury’s nose lifted as Crow brought it in low over the marketplace and prepared to land; the feeling of tilting and the lurch of deceleration was felt by the passengers as the intercom crackled to life again. “Consider this a priority one engagement. I’m putting you guys down in a small alien town, there’s snow everywhere and the locals are under attack by the Micronoid aliens. Be advised, the local aliens are all civilians and appear fairly equine in appearance.” Xander unbuckled and stood up, the servos and pistons supporting his frame locking to keep him steady. “Copy that Crow, take us down and stay on the ground, I want to use this as a command station.” Tank pulled himself out of his seat and brandished the mechanical limbs on his back. “I’m ready for some more revenge!” Kronsky, in his red and gold armour, stood and cocked his weapon. “I second that; but I’m unsure of what an ‘equine’ is." “Like horses, Kronsky.” Kronsky whirled to face the suited figure of Fitzpatrick, a confused look on his face. “The fuck is a horse?” Fitzpatrick laughed. “Horses, Kronsky, are what medieval cavalry ride on; you should know that, I made sure that was part of the curriculum when I was in power.” Kronsky sighed. “Oh forget it, shoot what looks familiar, and don’t shoot the ‘horses’.” Jester giggled as she pushed the Griffon toward the ramp. “Now you’re getting it, you’ll be shooting like an X-Com vet in no time!” The air in the Skyranger was sucked out and replaced with the frigid air of the alien world and the ramp cracked open. With a thump and another lurch, the Skyranger planted its wheels on the alien dirt and the ramp slammed down, revealing a scene of panic and chaos. They were on the edge of an open area dotted with stalls covered with all sorts of produce. There were few natives in sight, only brightly coloured flashes between stalls as stragglers ran from the emerging aliens. The megaspawn hadn’t moved from its position in the middle of the collapsed wreckage, and was still searching for more things to kill; the blue figures of several squads of Anthropods moved between the stalls and began to enforce a perimeter, killing any natives that came close. Tank hefted his shield to cover his face, ignited the plasma lance on mechanical one appendage, began charging the pneumatics of the impact hammer on another, and simply brandished the snapping ‘grabbers’ of the others. With a great roar, he charged down the ramp toward the megaspawn, shouting as he went. “Shit’s about to get biblical! Get the ‘Pods and I’ll deal with Goliath over there!” He bellowed, gesturing toward the megaspawn. Cameron and Kronsky crunched through the snow underfoot as they dashed behind several stalls and braced their weapons on the wooden tops. *Zap* Cameron’s plasma pistol made short work of the first Anthropod to see the hollering Tank running toward their lines. Several more Anthropods turned at the sound of their fellow’s cry, only to bet cut down by beams of plasma and hails of bullets from the duo. Jester’s metal arm clamped around Rook’s arm like a vice and dragged him down the ramp. “With me Crimson! We’ll go left and get a pincer going!” “Could ‘a just asked!” Was his reply, freeing his arm and cocking the long autorifle cradled in his arms. Fitzpatrick pushed his sunglasses up his nose as the glare from the snow forced him to squint. “I’ll stick with you cyclops.” A short laugh from the woman next to him was his reply as he and AJ started running to the right, taking pot shots at the aliens as they went. Xander stood at the top of the Skyranger’s ramp, leaning on one of the pistons that controlled said ramp. He experienced eyes surveyed the scene, and a plan quickly began building in his head. “Sergeant Sterling! Take your men and form a perimeter for Ryan while he sets up! Dominic, I’ll assume you want to use that sword, move up to Cameron and Kronsky and get them to suppress the enemy while you move close. I’m staying on board.” Xander sent his next orders over the squad-net radio. “If anyone sees an opportunity for psychic intervention, call it out! I can control, stun, read and kill. Now get out there and show them why you don’t fuck with humanity! FOR EARTH!” “FOR EARTH!” The squad echoed. *** Fallow Fields was one of the lucky ones. Lucky in the sense that he was fortunate enough to be nowhere near the first aliens as they started shooting and coming out of their pod-thing; but his luck seemed to have run out as another metallic object landed in front of the store he had dived into. The object looked vaguely like an airship gondola without the gas envelope above it. Fallow briefly entertained the hope that it was the guard; that they had somehow formed a quick response and arrived to face the monsters in an experimental airship. This hope was dashed as a panel in the gondola-ship fell open and yet more alien creatures stepped out. These newcomers looked very different to the first aliens Fallow had seen; their faces where more expressive, and they wore armour. They also seemed to lack the physical similarities between the aliens that emerged from the pod, barring the fact that they were all bipedal. Fearing that they were here to help the other creatures, Fallow had flung himself behind the counter and closed his eyes, praying to Celestia that they wouldn’t find him. He was then surprised to hear a number of voices, male in pitch, speaking perfect Equish. He angled his ears to try to catch a snippet of their conversation. “-on’t fuck with humanity! FOR EARTH!” “-OR EARTH!” Humanity? Earth? What were these creatures talking about? Where they ‘humanity’? What was Earth? A pony? A place? Each word prompted a host of new questions. That last part sounded like some kind of war cry; it was certainly echoed by a number of other voices. Risking a peek over the countertop, Fallow was confused by what he was seeing. There was one of the new aliens charging toward the massive alien in the middle of the marketplace; the charging alien had a large chunk of metal in his grasp, and his other forelimb appeared to be missing; on the alien’s back was what looked like a giant mechanical insect, with one limb glowing, another held back as if about to hit something, and the other two simply being held ready above the alien’s shoulders. As he watched, some of the smaller blue aliens fired their disintegrating weapons at the charging alien, only to have the shots ricochet off of or be absorbed by the metal shield. Some of the other new arrivals, crouched behind some of the abandoned market stalls, stood up and raised their own weapons. One weapon that looked like an L turned on its side flung incandescent bolts of energy toward the blue aliens, each individual shot striking a different target and taking them down with a shriek of pain and hiss of sizzling flesh. The other weapon looked like an iron pipe, with two smaller pipes sticking vertically down, and a large cylinder between the two smaller pipes, this weapon bucked and barked in the wielder’s grasp, sending yet more of the blue aliens down jerking and twitching as tiny projectiles slammed into them. Fallow was no dumb country bumpkin, he knew what these were. The first alien weapon looked like a highly advanced pistol that could be fired multiple times before reloading, the bolts it fired looked almost like magic missiles, and Fallow wondered if this was the case. The other weapon was clearly a miniature cannon, or a rapid fire version of the rifles sometimes used by the guard. While the two aliens were firing their weapons, another alien in a green cloak augmented with metal plates on the shoulders stood up and vaulted over the stalls; after the alien regained its footing, it drew what was clearly a sword from the scabbard at his hip and sprinted towards the group of blue aliens. The blue aliens were unwilling to stand up to try to stop the sword-wielding alien, so afraid were they of the alien’s deadly accuracy. There was a group of new aliens all wearing blue and red cloth escorting one other alien carrying a huge rifle, the barrel of this rifle was longer than Fallow was; the red and blues carried small pistols and one had a stocky looking rifle with bulky parts, and was feeding little red cartridges into a receiver underneath it. As Fallow watched, the group reached one of the shops neighboring the one he was hiding in. The alien with the long rifle slung it over his back and ran at two of the red and blue wearing aliens that were leaning against the wall of the building; these two caught the running alien in their forelimbs and threw him up onto the roof of the one-storey shop and out of Fallow’s sight. The four red and blue aliens then spread out around the building; two the ones with pistols ran down the alley between the buildings, one went into the shop with the alien on the roof; and the one alien with the bulky rifle walked into the shop that Fallow was in. Motionless with fear, Fallow stared at the alien as it leaned against frontal wall of the storefront. It hadn’t yet seen him. It fed one last cartridge into his rifle then grabbed a sliding piece of metal and pulled it back and forth with a loud series of clicks. *Cha-chuck* *** Sergeant Sterling finished loading the shotgun in his hands and paused to look at the alien shop he found himself in. It was remarkably similar to illustrations of human shops built before the world moved into Mega-Primus. The walls were made out of wood, as was the door. The door was a little shorter than he, and he had to stoop to get in, but the latch was easy enough to open. There was a wooden counter top with several displays of fresh fruit and vegetables, as well as several jars of preserves. There was also a pair of impossibly large eyes staring at him in total fear. The native had two large, expressive eyes and two pointed ears; the ears had flattened against the natives head as Sterling saw it. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m here to help.” The brown muzzle and green mane of the alien disappeared under the counter as Sterling spoke, startled by his voice. Sterling heard some mumbled words and started moving closer to the counter, switching his radio on as he went. Dr Bezial would love some samples of the local dialect. The counter was within arm’s reach now and Sterling could just about make out the words being said… “-if you’ll just go away. I’ll donate to charity if you just go away. I’ll adopt a foal if you’ll just go away. I’ll see my family if you’ll just go away…” The mantra continued, the native promising various things as long as Sterling left. He was shocked. What were the chances of that? A brand new world and a brand new sentient species and they spoke perfect English. Buoyed by this new knowledge, Sterling attempted to placate the native. “Look here, I swear I’m not going to hurt you, I’m here to protect you. My name’s Dan, now I don’t know about your customs, but where I’m from it’s considered rude to not exchange names when you meet someone.” A hushed response, whimpered more than spoken. “Pardon?” “Fallow, F-f-Fallow Fields.” Sterling smiled as the native’s head appeared above the counter once more. “Well then Fallow, I’m a human. What are you?” Fallow seemed uneasy with Sterling’s shotgun, and didn't answer until he lowered it carefully and slowly to the floor. “I’m an Earth Pony.” Dan’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s ‘earth’ as in ‘soil’ right? Not ‘earth’ as in ‘Planet Earth’? “Is that where you’re from then? I heard you all shout it.” “Indeed it is… well, was. Look, I can understand your fear, but would you mind if I hopped over the counter? I’m kind of in the open here.” Fallow didn’t reply verbally, but after a moment of internal deliberation, nodded his head. Sterling grabbed his shotgun, stood up and dived over the counter before Fallow could change his mind. “Cheers mate, and not a moment too soon.” This close to the native, Dan could get a good look at it. Covered head to… hoof? He was pretty sure they were called hooves; in brown fur, with a short mane of green as well as a green tail. There was also a strange patch of multi-coloured fur on the native’s side; when appraised from a distance, the coloured patch looked like a field with a plow next to it. Fallow was also getting a good look at Sterling. His eyes flickered over the shotgun in his hands before focusing on his hands themselves. Fallow’s eyes then flicked up to Sterling’s face, taking note of the short blonde hair, little nose, flat facial structure and small ears. Then it was Sterling’s clothes being scrutinized; the blue body of his coat and trousers offset by the red shoulder pads and epaulettes. Both the human and the pony finished their examination at the same time and shared a short laugh about the bizarreness of the situation; before stopping sharply as they realised how eerily similar their two races were. *** “Mother of God Xander you wouldn’t believe what that Sterling fellow’s found.” Otto stepped through the hatch separating the cockpit form the troop bay and peered over his friend’s shoulder at one of the small screens on the ‘command console’. A small note tacked above this particular screen told him that this was the helmet cam footage of ‘D. Sterling’. The image was fuzzed with static, but sound was coming through clearly. “-rth as in ‘Planet Earth’?” “Who’s he talking to?” “Just wait sir, hopefully the static will clear up.” Another voice was picked up by Sterling’s microphone, one that Xander didn’t recognize. “Is that where you’re from then? I heard you all shout it.” Otto leaned closer to the screen, as if closer scrutiny would help clear the static fuzzing the image. “Who’s that talking?” Mkoll shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” The static cleared up as just as Sterling vaulted over the counter-top of the alien shop. The view skewed about wildly for a moment before slowing and focusing on an alien face. “Mother of God.” Xander breathed. “Is that one of the locals?” Mkoll nodded in affirmation. “Yup’, call themselves ‘ponies’ and speak perfect English; better than you actually.” “Har har, it’s not my first language; but really? Ponies?” Mkoll fiddled with a few more controls and gestured to another, larger screen. “Take a gander at this, Xander,” A smirk, “This is the footage from before the crowds scattered and we landed.” He pushed a button and the scene came to life; Mkoll waited for a good angle, then slowed the footage down and pointed at some of the finer details. “You see these fellows here and… here?” He asked. Xander nodded. “What about them?” “Look closer.” Mkoll urged.” Xander leaned forward as far as his servo-frame would allow, before the mechanics ground to a halt with a crunch of metal. “I’ll give you a clue; think of the legend of the Greek hero, Bellerophon.” A ten-second silence followed. “Holy shit, it’s got wings, like Pegasus!” Xander exclaimed. “Uh huh, and that’s not all; look at this lady over here.” Mkoll pointed to the second pony he had initially indicated. Xander raised an eyebrow and looked at Mkoll. “Lady?” “Oh for crying out loud now is not the time! My family kept horses before T’leth exploded, I helped care for them!” Otto chuckled and turned back to the screen. He stared intently at it for a moment before his eyes widened; he turned back to his friend with a look of shock on his face. “That’s a fucking unicorn Crow.” Roderick Mkoll nodded and grinned. “Bezial’s going to explode, he’ll be so delighted. *** *Thok!* *Thok!* *Thok!* The 80 year old rifle had been kept in near-perfect condition in the vacuum storage section of the MacArthur’s hold. The large-calibre rounds tore through the tough skin of the Anthropods with ease; realising that they had been flanked, the blue monsters bounded back through several rows of stalls. O’Nayl knelt down in the ditch that he and Jester had claimed, steam hissing from the water-cooled barrel of his rifle. Jester swore and fiddled with her laser rifle some more; it was bad enough that the cold air sapped some of the power behind each laser bolt impact, but Jester’s rifle had given up after a handful of shots. “Jester we should move, they’re falling back.” Crimson’s blood was up, and he was out for more aliens. “Yeah, gimme a sec.” Jester hissed in exertion as she struggled to open the rifle’s casing without outright destroying it with her bionic arm. Crimson peered over the scorched lip of the ditch they were in; the result of a piece of wreckage cartwheeling through the market, and it drew a pocked line through the otherwise-pristine coating of snow. “Just ditch the thing, it’s 80 years old and a total write off. You've still got that pistol haven't you?” The rifle was tossed to the ground with a yell of frustration. Jester pulled the laser pistol from her pocket and fired half a dozen shots into the air. “Fine then, at least this thing works.” Jester checked the situation in the market for herself. The Anthropods had fallen back through the stalls but were still under fire from Cameron and Kronsky by the Skyranger, plus AJ and Fitzpatrick had added their fire to the fight. Unfortunately, the Anthropods had a free shot at Tank, and he had been knocked to the ground. He now crouched with his back against a fallen stall, his shield protecting him from the Anthropod’s unrelenting fire. Looking back towards the Skyranger, Jester saw a green-robed figure dashing from stall to stall, sword in hand. As she watched, the sword flared into life, a green field of rippling plasma played around the blade. Dominic, the champion fencer, vaulted the last stall between him and the Anthropods and stuck his hand behind his back. Flourishing his sword, he cut through the pair closest to him, ducked out of the way of a clumsy punch thrown by a third before running the culprit through. With a cry of surprise, Dominic dived to the ground, a bolt of blue energy sizzling over his head, singing his hair. The Anthropod cautiously stepped closer to the prone man, attempting to find a better angle. *Crack!* The sound tore through the air milliseconds after a two-inch bullet tore through the Anthropod. Across the marketplace, atop a short building; Ryan slammed a new round home in his anti-tank rifle and sighted through the scope again. His breathing slowed and his finger tensed before… *Crack!* His rifle spoke another deafening word and sent an Anthropod crashing to the ground in two pieces. “That was too close, thanks sniper.” Ryan smiled as he pushed another large round into the receiver, there were plenty more targets to hit, and he had a bag and a half full of rounds. *** Fitzpatrick had to stop firing after the Anthropods had pulled back, unable to get a clear shot, and knowing that the lawpistol he carried wouldn’t pierce more than one wooden stall. AJ, on the other hand, kept her rifle tucked tightly to her shoulder; firing once or twice every few seconds, a few shots and another Anthropod would slam into the ground. The menacing glow of her mechanical eye bathing her rifle in red light; the advanced optics of her eye allowed her to track the heat-spoors of the fleeing Anthropods right back to their new hiding spots; and her laser rifle could bore through wood in a few shots. AJ felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Fitzpatrick looking at her with a finger over his mouth. Silence. AJ nodded and tilted her head. Why? Fitzpatrick pulled her into an open store, leaned out of the window to check the left and right sides of the building, then joined her in the front of the store. He then pointed to the ceiling above and then at his ear. Listen, up there. AJ did so, straining her ears; at first she couldn’t hear anything over the cacophony on the on-going firefight; but, after a moment, she could hear something. *Click-click* *Click-click* *Click-click* She grabbed Fitzpatrick by the collar and pulled him close to her. Putting her mouth next to his ear, she whispered her realization. “Skeletoids.” Fitzpatrick nodded and pushed a new clip into his lawpistol. Going back to back, the president and the trooper pointed their weapons at the ceiling and fired. *** Slapping another drum magazine into his machine gun, Kronsky took a moment to glance around to see where he could best lend his aid. The MegaPol officers had split up, two going deeper into the middle ring of the town, one stayed behind to cover Ryan; and one had dived into another shop. Tank still had another 30 metres to go to reach the Megaspawn, and was pinned to a stall by heavy fire coming from… AJ and Fitzpatrick? No, not them; but the fire was definitely coming from that area. Leaning out further, Kronsky could make out a number of banana-yellow figures clustered on a group of roofs on the East side of the marketplace. As he watched, one of the groups abruptly jumped and scattered, some of their number falling as a number of slugs and laser bolts tore through the roof beneath their feet. The Skeletoids took to the air unsteadily at first, before calming and steadying themselves; their anti-gravity implants not making for the most stable of flights, unlike Kronsky’s Griffon MkVIII Flying Armour. Turning to the soldier next to him, he pulled at his arm to get Cameron’s attention. Cameron ducked his head down and started swapping power cells in his plasma pistol. “What is it?” “Skeletoids over on the roofs over there, I’m going to jump to Jester and Crimson, then get some height and see what I can do.” Kronsky replied. Peering over the stall, Cameron acknowledged the Skeletoids and decided to take some pot shots at the ones displaced by AJ and Fitzpatrick’s fire. “Go now, while I have their attention.” Kronsky nodded and crept away from the stall they were taking cover behind. Behind him, Cameron continued to fire his exotic pistol, bringing several of the skeletal monsters crashing down into the snow; alerted thusly to the new threat, the Skeletoids sent a hail of disintegrating bolts his way. While Cameron hunkered down behind the stall, Kronsky took a run up and ignited the thrusters in his armour with a squeeze of his palm. Rocketing into the air in a graceful arc, Kronsky oriented on the red figure he could see in the large trench that bisected the marketplace. Another squeeze of the palm, and his descent was slowed enough to make a stable landing on his feet. “Crimson! Jester! Look across the marketplace! At the roofs of the shops! Pin them down and I’ll get a flank on them!” A brief nod was all he got as confirmation before he took off again. The hulking megaspawn took offence at such a bold move, and attempted to blast him out of the sky with its rapid fire Devastator Cannons. With its attention diverted, the monstrosity didn't notice the X-Com trooper sprinting at it, freed from his hiding place by the suppression of the Skeletoids, and with most of the Anthropods slain, Tank had gotten up and closed the distance between him and the gargantuan alien. With a desperate bellow Tank swung the impact hammer into the Megaspawn’s leg, shattering the bones within in a series of stomach churning cracks. The alien staggered but remained upright, turning to face the comparably tiny Human. With his impact hammer discharged, Tank wouldn’t be able to get off another strong hit like that for at least another 7 seconds, and there was no way he could dance around the creature for that long. There was a whoosh of jump jets over his head and Tank heard a number of sharp, wet impacts as the Megaspawn was struck by a number of machine gun rounds. *Crack!* Ryan’s rifle spoke again and took off the Megaspawn’s shattered leg in a spray of blood and bone shards; the creature toppled backwards, crushing some of the UFO debris behind it, and lay writhing on the ground with its guns pointing uselessly in the air. Tank clambered over the loose debris and dug his mechanical claws into the fallen beast’s chest; using them for purchase, he pulled himself onto the chest of the Megaspawn and plunged his plasma lance deep into the heart of the alien weapons platform. The Megaspawn fell silent and still instantly. ***   Seeing their great ally fall, the Skeletoids began to scatter and fall back into the dense network of alleys and narrow streets that formed the middle and outer rings of the town. Only to be confronted by an armoured Human in red and gold armour. Speaking in strange chitters out of their bizarre circular mouths, the Skeletoids tried to raise their heavy Devastators at Kronsky, only to start swinging wildly in the air at the sudden change in centre of gravity. An extended burst of machine gun fire cut through all but one, who was spared by a loud click that rang through the cold air. Buoyed by its good fortune, the Skeletoid attempted to fly away, only to be tackled out of the air by the angry Human. Kronsky shifted his weight around until the Skeletoid was rushing toward the ground with him on top; a brief spurt of thrust and Kronsky’s descent was halted. The same couldn’t be said for the Skeletoid, that continued its descent until it slammed into the snowy ground. The last thing it ever saw was the blue plated boot of a Griffon Jump Jet Trooper. The marketplace was clear. Crimson and Jester having slain the rest of the fleeing Skeletoids; the few that escaped their fire were cut down by AJ, Fitzpatrick and two of the MegaPol officers; all of them having flanked around to cut off the middle ring as an escape. Taking Crimson’s hand, Jester pulled herself out of the steep-walled ditch and made her way over to the Skyranger. As she passed between the stalls, the occasional shot rang out as another trooper found a downed alien and finished it off. Making her way up the Skyranger’s ramp, Jester slid open the sealed door to the cockpit. “Immediate area’s clear Xander, AJ, Fitzy and the cops are scouting out the next piece of wreckage.” With a hiss of pneumatic bionics, the 108 year old turned to face her. “Good work,” a broad smile was on Xander’s face, “Sterling’s made a brand new friend. Come and see.” The pair made their way off the Skyranger and into a nearby shop. Stepping through the threshold, they were confronted with a shotgun barrel an inch from their faces. A moment later, and the barrel was raised. “Sorry guys, can’t be too careful with those bloody Bananatoids flying about.” Sterling shouldered his shotgun. “Come and meet Fallow.” Jester raised an eyebrow and looked at Xander questioningly. Met only with a grin and silence, she followed Sterling into the back room of the store. “Wow…” Jester breathed. The brown and green pony looked up at her. “Ummm… Hi?” *** The crosshairs had settled evenly in the middle of the pony's head; the horizontal bar linking the enormous eyes together. Ryan had spent the last minute or so after the Megaspawn went down to scout out the shops lining the marketplace for any alien stragglers or hiding natives. So far, he’d turned an Antropod into green paste, saving a native’s life while he was at it; in addition, he’d found at least 6 shops with more survivors in them, and up 8 more with signs of life. Deciding to be cautious, and not trusting his own quick reflexes, Ryan was holding a shell in his off hand, ready to slot it into the rifle at a moment’s notice; he didn’t want to accidentally shoot one of the natives just because he saw a flash of blue after all. Ryan tensed as he heard the scraping, clanging sound of someone climbing up to his roof; but relaxed when he heard the muffled curses of Brad as he clambered up a rickety drainpipe. Brad dropped to his belly and crawled alongside Ryan. “See anything of note?” Ryan pulled his head away from the scope and pointed at the shops he’d seen the natives in; before pointing at the shop that he’d killed the Anthropod in, and making a slashing motion across his throat. Brad just looked at him blankly. “Okay, I get you killed something over there, but what’s with the first shops? Can’t you just talk?” Ryan sighed and pulled away at some of the insulating cloth wrapped around his throat, revealing what looked like a large metallic choker. “There are natives in the first shops, and I killed an Anthropod in the last shop I indicated.” A small red light in the choker flashed along with Ryan’s grating mechanical voice. Taken aback by the harsh tone, Brad nodded in affirmation. Seeing this, Ryan sighed again. “I wasn’t annoyed, but I can’t change the tone of my voice. It always sounds either sarcastic or mean.” The words seemed to ease Brad a little. “OK, sorry, I just had no idea. At first I thought you were doing that on purpose-you know-the whole ‘dark and silent sniper’ look?” Ryan laughed; a truly strange sound, lacking any sense of realism, and sounding almost mocking. “Har, harharhar, har.” Brad raised an eyebrow and looked at Ryan. “Fuck you.” Brad laughed and rolled over to get at the radio on his belt. *** “Hey commander there’s a couple of shops on the far side of the marketplace with locals in them, want me to go and try to persuade them to come out?” Brad’s voice came through the radio cut with static and interference. “I doubt they’ll come out to another alien with a gun Brad. Also, see if you can’t find what’s causing all this interference, it’s starting to piss me off.” Xander flicked the transmit switch built into his exoskeleton off and turned back to the trio in front of him. Jester had been introduced to Fallow and they were currently just… chatting; Just talking away about recent happenings like two people at a bus stop. Except it was a pony and person in a shop on an alien planet talking about the aliens that they’d just saved them from. Xander shook his head, the lack of a language barrier made the whole affair quite surreal. He decided that he would send a short summary of the skirmish and his plans back to Captain Blaine and the MacArthur. As he stepped out of the store he paused, something felt… off. Expanding his mind and letting his consciousness free, he psychically searched the immediate area. There was AJ, Fitzpatrick and the cops, they’d found the piece of wreckage and discovered that it was naught but a shield emitter, guarded by one measly Anthropod. Said Anthropod was ducked down behind the solid emitter and spraying blindly over the top to try to keep the Humans at bay. Xander incinerated his mind with a glancing thought. Pulling his mind back a little, he became aware of Jester tapping his body on the shoulder. Despite his body’s lack of direction, it remained upright thanks to the supportive exoskeleton. Reeling his mind back, Xander opened his eyes. “What?” Jester jumped a little, startled, before replying. “I said Sterling and I are going to go with Fallow to talk to the other ponies hiding in the stores; is there anywhere you want us to send them?” Xander looked around, taking in the weak-walled shops and shattered stalls; his roaming eyes eventually settled on the silent shape of Mercury. “Send them to Mkoll and the Skyranger for now, we’ll find a proper defensible location soon; but until then… Well, these shops aren’t going to stop a Disrupter or Devastator.” Jester rapped on the wall of the store next to them with a robotic hand. A small crater appeared in a shower of splinters and frost. “Very true, OK then; you can go back to your funky mind-stuff.” Xander snorted. “Oh gee thanks, I was hoping you’d give me permission.” Jester gave a cheery wave over her shoulder as she walked off to re-join Sterling and Fallow. “Let it never be said that I’m not a kind and considerate tyrant!” Settling back into his frame and closing his eyes once more; Xander again slipped away from his body and began roaming the town. In his mind’s eye he ‘saw’ Crimson and Kronsky walking along side-by-side, patrolling the first ring road around the marketplace. Deciding to check up, he attempted to descend into Crimson’s mind, only to be blocked by a bizarre sense of nothingness; concerned, he sank into Kronsky’s mind instead, and sent a thought-message. *Kronsky, it’s Xander, could you ask Crimson if he’s a Null-Psy please?* Kronsky jumped a little, then relaxed and spoke to the empty air. “Uh, sure thing.” He turned to the quizzical Crimson, who was observing him jumping at and speaking to nothing. “Crimson, Xander just asked me to ask you if you’re Null-Psy.” Crimson’s expression changed from one of confusion into one of sudden realization. “Oh! So that’s what I felt just now; I thought it could have been a Psimorph so I blocked it on instinct.” *Whatever, I wanted to check how everything was with you two.* “He wants to check how’s things.” Crimson shrugged. “Meh, fine, no sightings and no psionic twinges; other than you of course. Has AJ reached that chunk yet?” *Yes, it’s empty.* A little lie, but one X-Com soldier was easily worth a dozen Anthropods, and this particular one had been outnumbered to begin with. “They have Rook, he says it’s empty.” Crimson nodded. “Good good, listen sir, could you do us all a favour and check what’s in the last shard? Kronsky said that it looked less like random debris and more like a jettisoned cargo-pod.” “I got a pretty good look when I was jumping around.” Kronsky cut in. *Fair enough. Give me a minute.* Ascending his thought projection back into the air, Xander searched for the debris/cargo-pod. The trick was to not look for the pod, but to look for the gaps in the buildings; destroyed establishments left a much greater psychic scar than recently added construction; or, indeed, a fallen cargo-pod. He cast his mind out, sensing the thought-presences of several hundred of the native ponies. His mind traced the groove left by the shield emitter wreckage, and slid around the many pockmarked holes in the walls and the dirt; left there by the intense fire-fight. When he eventually found the piece, he could easily make out why Kronsky thought it to be a cargo-pod; the simple answer was: It was a cargo pod. The more pressing issue was: ‘What’s in the cargo pod?’ His mind easily slipped through the negligible psychic barriers of the barely alive hull and into the space within. At first his mind felt nothing, and it seemed as if the pod was either empty of simply full of equipment; then, without warning, the pod seemed to erupt with life and thought processes and instructions and instinct and hunger and anger and psionic capability and- Xander hurriedly reeled his mind in and wracked his brain to try to think of what could be in there. Something that was dormant but woke to psionic stimuli… Lots of little things… dormant then suddenly awake and hungry… His face fell and his heart sank as he realised what that cargo-pod was full of. *** Unbeknownst to the Human soldiers, one of the rulers of the land was already on her way; she had left in the middle of a court function, and would likely have irate nobles to deal with later, but what she had felt construed an emergency and damn any ponies that got in the way of her helping. It was the one tell of a dimension jump. A sudden loss, then overload of magic; followed by an impossibly bright flash of light and a clap of thunder that seemed to shatter the sky itself. Celestia had felt the dip and swell of magic to the East of Canterlot, and then seen the bright flash on the horizon. She had already taken to the air and was out of the city limits before the thunderclap reached her ears. If anypony were to look up as she passed over, they would see nothing but what appeared to be a blazing ball of fire, rocketing across the sky. She felt confusion, then curiosity, then purest terror from the East as she travelled. Dreading what could have caused this, and not knowing that it was the result of the alien debris landing, settling, and then splitting open that caused the rush of conflicting emotions. Driven by emphatic fear, she put on another burst of speed. Then the rush of emotions slowed, and for a moment, Celestia began to fear the worst was happening; but it was an unnecessary fear, as the emotions quickly changed to hope and joy, mixed with a hint of apprehension. This confused Celestia for a moment and she slowed; she knew she was still far out of sight. It had been the Humans arrival and swift actions in cutting down the attacking aliens that caused this rush of positive emotion; but Celestia wouldn’t discover that until later. Time passed, and Celestia continued to blaze her way across the sky, hoping she would arrive in time. The emotions changed from hope to relief, and from apprehension to thanks. She was much closer to Harvest now, and could feel a strong magical force seething around the town, blasting out emotion with wild abandon. Few knew that Celestia could feel emotions, and there was no way she’d tell anypony after the changeling fiasco at the wedding; but it gave her a drive to be kind and empathetic. The force felt curiosity, then pain, and then a terrible and all-consuming fear began to well out as the force receded to a single point. *** The little blue foal had ran out of the street with no warning, and had almost been blown away by the twitchy pair of Humans; fortunately for both parties, the foal was quickly recognized for what it was, and was allowed to continue. The foal abruptly stopped and turned to face the two humans; two bipedal titans, one in red and one in blue -a blue so similar to the biped that had been chasing it- the foal’s legs locked in fear and froze at the sight. The red titan turned to its blue companion and spoke: “Get out of sight Kronsky we’re scaring it.” The blue titan nodded and shot off in a cacophony of roaring jets and squealing armour; the red titan turned back to the foal and let his weapon swing free. Crimson approached the foal with his rifle hanging on its strap and his arms out and open, palms out to appear less threatening. He assumed that the stabilising fins and flaps on Kronsky’s armour gave the Griffon a nightmarish silhouette, and sent him off accordingly. The foal remained still as a statue, unwilling to move lest he incur the Human’s wrath; the foal had seen what that weapon was capable of, and even though it hadn’t been used against any ponies, he felt justified in being afraid of it. With a snarl, his pursuer reappeared, stumbling out of the alley that the foal had dashed out of; sighting its quarry, it raised its Disruptor gun and fired, only to have his target disappear in a flash of red. Crimson had seen the Anthropod appear and had no intentions of letting the foal die. With his gun hanging limply at his side, he couldn’t shoot the alien in time, and was too far away to tackle the creature directly. The foal, on the other hand, was well within reach and was snatched up in Crimson’s arms as he dive-rolled to move the pony. He felt a warm impact on the back of his armour, and a sudden coolness on his shoulder blade; with little time to ponder before the Anthropod got over its confusion and weapon cycled, he and the foal would be an easy shot. Keeping the small foal tucked in his right arm, Crimson snatched at the rifle dangling at his hip with his left hand; finding purchase, he raised the heavy rifle one-handed and pulled the trigger in the general direction of the alien. A click greeted him. The old rifle had been jarred heavily during the roll and the ammunition feed must have been knocked loose; he had barely a split second to react, dropping the foal and pulling a plasma knife from its sheath. Drawing the blade and igniting it with one smooth movement, Crimson drew his right arm back and threw with all his might… The knife sunk deep into the wall next to the Anthropod and extinguished itself. The Anthropod regained its senses and raised its disruptor to point at Crimson; on natural paternal instinct, he stepped in front of the foal to protect him with his own body and armour. Shot after shot slammed into his breastplate and Crimson staggered back, narrowly avoiding stepping on the poor foal. As the Anthropod adjusted its aim and prepared another volley, it was thrown off balance by a thunderous impact barely 10 metres away. A wave of heat washed down the snowy road, melting the snow as it went; again, Crimson moved again to shield the foal as the heat washed over him and his armour. When the heat wave had passed, there was a large crater shrouded in atomised dirt and steam to his left, and the Anthropod had dropped its gun in shock. Crimson charged at the blue alien, his head down and his arms forward; the alien saw him and moved to grab his wrists, locking the two in a grapple; each matched by the other. A brief moment of stillness followed before the alien shifted its weight and swung Crimson into the wall of the nearest building. The wooden wall cracked, splintered and bent under the assault but just managed to hold; in retaliation, Crimson pushed off the wall for extra momentum, and pushed the Anthropod onto the hilt of the knife embedded in the wall. The synthetic leather sheathed grip failed to do anything more than enrage the alien and it roared; its foul breath washing over Crimson and coating his face in spittle and flecks of meat. Crimson pulled the Anthropod off the wall, spun them both 90 degrees to the left and hooked a leg around the alien’s ankle. With a deft flick, he tipped the creature onto its back and followed it down, pinning its arms and legs with his own. Back in a stalemate position, Crimson racked his brain for ideas to subdue the Anthropod before it bucked him off. Crimson closed his eyes and focused, attempting to keep the alien as still as possible, moving only to re-pin the creature’s limbs. For a moment, nothing happened, then a small trickle of blood began running out of Crimson’s nose, and the Anthropod redoubled its efforts to throw him off. This continued for about 4 seconds, before the Anthropod fell still and didn’t move again. Crimson opened his eyes and rolled off the dead alien; he lay on the ground for a while, simply catching his breath, before sitting up and wiping the blood from his nose. Looking down at his breastplate, he was shocked to see that there was almost nothing left of the red armour, only a web of half melted strands of plate surrounded by holes revealing his undamaged undershirt. Crimson laughed to himself as he unbuckled the plate and pulled it off. “Typical X-Com, the armour’s just thick enough.” He smirked. Turning to look at the foal, he was surprised to see that he hadn’t run, nor had he been watching the two aliens beat each other; instead the foal was staring at something else, quaking from head to hoof at the sight. Crimson followed the foal’s gaze and saw what looked like a native pony, only it was as tall as him, had a pair of wings and a long, pointed horn… and its fur and mane was literally ablaze. Inwardly cursing his nature, Crimson darted forward to scoop up the terrified foal and retrieve his rifle; he struggled to reload the rifle one handed for a moment, before everything clicked into place and he again raised the heavy rifle to point at the newcomer. He would have, and probably should have recognised the newcomer as a native, and not out to kill him, had it not been for the aggressive appearance and terrified foal. The human locked eyes with the tall pony. “I don’t know who you are, or what you are for that matter, but I know that you’re not going to lay a single finger on this kid without going through me; and I’d like to see you try.” *** Celestia was astonished. She had seen the foal running from the blue alien and came in to help, only to see that a new alien, this one covered in red metallic armour, pushing the foal behind it before charging the blue alien. The red alien and the blue alien had grappled for a moment, before the red one pushed the blue one under it and closed its eyes. What happened next was terrifying and incredible. The red alien seemed to focus, and then magic began draining out of the air at an amazing rate; but it wasn’t being channeled anywhere it was simply being… suppressed. The blue alien sparked with millions of tiny bolts of magic that were channeled at the red alien, and the red one began to bleed from what looked like its nose. Undeterred, the red alien continued focusing, until the blue alien lost all of the magic suffusing its cranial area, and simply… died? Shut down? The survivor then rolled off of the corpse of the other and lay still, panting heavily. It wiped its faces and examined its holed armour; it then laughed and pulled the plate off. Then it- “Typical X-Com, armour’s just thick enough.” It was an odd sight, seeing such a familiar language coming out of an alien mouth in a strange and unequestrian accent; but it was what it was. Word. Perfect. Equish. The alien then turned to look at the foal, concern written across its bizarrely familiar features. A frown appeared as it saw the quaking foal, and Celestia was sad to see that the foal was looking right at her. Not running at her, thinking that she was here to save him; but paralyzed in fear of her, it was like a mental slap to the face, such strong fear right in front of her. The alien followed the foal’s gaze to the Celestia’s blazing body. A look of hate crossed its face and it lunged for the foal, scooping it up in its arms and snagging the fallen rifle-like object on the ground. Ignoring the heat of the metal object, the alien fiddled with it until several slots on it snapped shut with a sharp ‘click’ and pointed the open end at her. It was definitely a rifle. “I don’t know who you are, or what you are for that matter, but I know that you’re not going to lay a single finger on this kid without going through me; and I’d like to see you try.” The foal wriggled in the alien’s grasp and attempted to push himself deeper into the alien’s embrace. The rifle barrel didn’t waver. Was the alien trying to protect one of her little ponies? Were they at war with the blue aliens? Did they come alone? That last question was obvious. No. There was an immense disc trailing smoke that lay at the end of an impact crater that put a halt to that line of investigation; as well as another, smaller ship made of a different material. These must be what brought the different aliens here, but from another dimension? Did they travel here or did somepony summon them? The large ship had crashed, but the smaller one had landed… did one chase the other? That seemed like the most likely answer. Celestia stamped her hoof and snorted with frustration. So many questions! “Easy there you prick; I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. Now answer me and turn down the heat and I’ll lower my rifle, sound fair?” There it was again; perfect Equish in a totally foreign accent out of an alien’s mouth. Never in all of her many, many years had Celestia expected to see that. She calmed herself down; maybe this standoff was just a misunderstanding. As her thoughts cooled, so did the flames writhing around Celestia’s body; the alien saw this and relaxed a little, but kept the rifle pointed at her. Steadying herself mentally, Celestia had her first conversation with an alien. “I think we both want the same thing, alien; I am Princess Celestia, and that is one of my subjects. I mean him no harm; I only feared that you meant him harm.” *** ‘Her voice is so soothing’ was the first thought that came to Crimson’s mind as he held the alien child to his chest. He lowered his rifle slowly before dropping it completely; taking the foal in both hands, he slowly turned him around until he could see Celestia. Celestia had cooled completely, no longer wreathed in fire, her coat had returned to its usual white colour, and her mane and tail had reverted back to their usual colourful state. The foal’s eyes were tightly scrunched shut. Seeing this, Crimson leaned forward and whispered in the foal’s ear. “She says that she’s your Princess, open your eyes and see.” The foal did so and immediately brightened; seeing a familiar face in Princess Celestia. Crimson relaxed, she was telling the truth; oddly enough, the foal made no move to escape his arms. He suddenly felt very nervous. Was he about to begin speaking with the native’s leader? He wasn’t ready for that! Nor was he trained! This would go down in history as the conversation that started… whatever was to come! What did he do? What should he- “I can sense you fear, do no harm to me and my subjects and I shall do no harm to you.” ‘Still so soothing’ Crimson laughed nervously. “It’s not you I’m afraid of, I’m afraid of fucking up and ruining Humanity’s image. I- oh dear.” ‘Well that's a great start.’ he’d just cussed right in front of their Princess! Was that an executable offense or something-wait, ‘sense my fear’? Crimson narrowed his eyes and focused again, locking out the area immediately around him from psionic powers. Distracted and calmed by maintaining the small null-field; he spoke again. “My name is Rook O’Nayl, I am a Human from a planet called Earth. I came here with 14 others from another dimension, chasing the last of an alien race that wiped almost all of us out. We came here to stop these aliens from doing the same to you; and we will stop at nothing to protect you.” He had meant to stop at his name, race and home planet but the rest had kind of… slipped out. Celestia’s face remained neutral. “’Chasing the last of’? Sounds like you wish to exterminate these others after they attempted to do the same to you. Why? What would you gain?” Rook’s face hardened. “What would we gain? Closure. Assurance that the Micronoids wouldn’t be able to try again. Vengance." The last word came out as little more than a hiss. “Micronoids?” “Microscopic sized creatures capable of powerful psionic influence in large colonies that enslave other races and take over their planets. Or something, ask Dr Bezial.” “Is he one of the ones that came with you?” “No he’s-wait, stop that! Bloody word art… Look just… come and meet Xander, he’s probably the best one to talk to. Him or Fitzpatrick.” *** “Mkoll we have a-“ Oh hey Xander, I think Crimson just foisted off the native’s Princess onto you.” “What!? Well that’s bad enough and the final piece of wreckage in the town in a cargo-pod full of Brainsucker Pods. But I may have hatched them all with my psionic probing.” “What!?” The radio crackles to life between the two. “I’ll guess that was you that took care of that Anthro, commander. The second piece is clear, do you want us to sweep the third piece?” Xander cursed and scrabbled for the radio on his frame. “Everything just happens at once-Yes hello AJ. Also. For the love of God don’t go to the third piece of wreckage!” A confused voice seeps from the hissing radio. “Uh, okay? Don’t go; gotcha… may I ask why?” “No-Just” a groan of frustration escaped Xander’s lips “It’s full of Brainsuckers! And I mean full to the brim!” A pair of boots started up the Skyranger’s ramp. “Commander, there’s someone you need to meet!” Xander turned to look at the seated Mkoll with a pleading look on his face. “Help.” Mkoll’s answer was to push Xander out of the cockpit and into the troop bay followed by a jovial “Don’t forget to bow!”