//------------------------------// // Chapter 12 // Story: The Conversion Bureau: Threshold // by Guardian_Gryphon //------------------------------// Earth Calendar: 1/21/2102 11:25 GMT Earthgov Council Facility Harrisburg Pennsylvania Councilor Sulerahmen was not a habitual worrier, but she found herself concerned for the third time in as many days. The sensation stemmed more from the friction and tension the media was drumming up, than anything else. If the pundits continued to spread rumors and panic, more people would stand to die from the riots and chaos than had actually perished in the inciting anomaly incident. Innara tapped an area of her desk, and a blue-hued holographic keyboard appeared. With practiced speed, she tapped out a message, fingers drumming against the surface as they passed through the hologram. If it hadn't been for the Naval leak that allowed the drone footage to be aired, speculation might have been stemmed until damage control was in-place and explanations were lined up. She knew the message was likely too little too late, but no other options presented themselves. ' >>TO: GNN-Newsroom@News.net >>CC: Pressroom@Earth.gov >>BCC: MKorvan@Earth.gov //Subject: Drone Footage ]]With regard to the footage circulating that was pulled from an Earthgov Naval reconnaissance drone; at present the existence of a likely-habitable environ on the other side of the barrier has been confirmed. It has also been confirmed that the barrier can not be crossed safely, in any way shape or form, at this time, due to environmental factors that have not been fully researched. ' Innara lingered for a moment, evaluating her words, before pressing the send key and dismissing the holographic window in favor of other pertinent work. She was able to scrounge several unmolested minutes to peruse a brief on the status of the Azores refugee camps, before there was a two-tone and sharp rap at her door. "Please enter." The Councilor looked up to see a young courier enter the room breathlessly, his suit stained with enough sweat to inform her that he had been running, and his brow furrowed enough to indicate that his purpose was not merely time sensitive, but urgent. "Madam Councilor, this just arrived by secure transmission from UES Yorktown. Eyes only." The young man passed Sulerahmen a ruggedized DaTab with a secondary blast-proof and tamper-proof gray casing. The plastic bore a violently orange stripe stamped with white text; 'RESTRICTED_D-001.' The designation marked the contents as confidential, diplomatic classification, level 001. The highest level of secret classification for any department. Such information, usually text communiques with accompanying data, was considered so important that it could not legally be transmitted wirelessly, except between military transmitters and receivers. When such a communique or data needed to travel away from these channels, it had to be copied to a secure DaTab, and the case locked with biometric access denials. Councilor Innara had received several-dozen such DaTabs over the course of her career, but only two other level 001 packages. The courier inclined his head politely, then removed himself from the room as swiftly as he had arrived. Despite their high clearance, and extensive training, such agents were never allowed to know anything about the contents of the packages they ferried from point-to-point, for the sake of compartmentalization. Innara placed the secured device on her desk, then tilted her head up slightly and spoke to the computer, "Seal this room, and deactivate all data-recording internal security measures. Sever all external information connections, and disengage communications reception. Initiate electronic countermeasures." The stringent opsec protocols surrounding a 001 package mandated a sealed chamber, and the blocking of all wireless data transmission via active jamming. The Councilor stared at the tablet for a moment, before lifting it and depressing her thumb against a small, softly lit circle. The pinprick sensation of nanotubular tissue extraction was but a small price to pay for a nearly unbreakable biometric access denial system. With a soft trill and the hiss of maglocks, the case opened across a central seam. Innara slid the two halves of the shell apart smoothly to reveal the screen of the device, blinking the words 'Standby mode, touch to begin' softly as blue-hued text. She laid one finger softly on the device, and the words vanished; replaced by a numeric pinpad. The Councilor swiftly entered her authorization, and after a moment a vast quantity of information filled the screen in overlapping windows. At the heart of it was a single-paragraph text communique from Dr. Lawrence Thornton. Sulerahmen read the message three times before the meaning finally sank in. She sat back heavily and did her best to keep her heart-rate under control. The information on the DaTab was not merely going to eclipse the drone leak. It was going to eclipse most of Human history. Earth Calendar: 1/21/2102 12:32 GMT ACV-10 UES Yorktown 5 NM West of the Barrier (Earth Side) "You want me to describe it to you in simple terms?" Doctor Wainwright stepped around the holographic column; his face coming out from behind the entwined helixes of represented DNA, and into the light of the medical bay. Admiral Laren inclined his head. The Doctor sighed and gestured to the floating column of light, "If our DNA is equivalent to the Library Of The Council, then theirs? Theirs is more like the sum total of every written word in history." The group clustered around the holotank stood in awed silence. Thornton looked positively exuberant, Laren was reserved, and the Captain seemed content to scowl in mild confusion. Thornton broke the pause, gesturing animatedly at the shimmering twisting blue-shifted shape in the air before them, "The computer has found some correlating base pairs between us and them, which begs serious questions in conjunction with the fact that their language is nearly identical to ours." The scientist shook his head and snorted in appreciation, "Six helical structures. Three times the solidity of our genetic material. I doubt if you could ever hope to infect them virally, much less alter their genome in any way without a very, very powerful delivery method. They must have incredible radiation absorption capabilities." The Captain raised his head at the mention of 'virus,' and turned to Wainwright, "So there is no risk of biological contamination?" The doctor shook his head, "Not with these visitors, no... but I have found evidence in their bloodstream of antigens created in response to past bacterial infections. They may not be susceptible to most viruses, but they have bacterial diseases and sickness wherever they come from. Its likely these contaminants are very very dangerous to us at present." Admiral Laren cocked his head and took a step closer to the tank, "Could this become a problem in the future?" Wainwright signed and tapped one lip thoughtfully with his right index finger, "Mmm.. No I wouldn't say so. Given a few months to study blood samples from a larger group of them, we could integrate immunities to their diseases into our standard medical packets, air filtration systems, and atmospheric detox towers. But its a good thing we looked before leaping on this one; some of this stuff is nastier than bubonic plague, and twice as transmissible... their immune systems are just an order of magnitude stronger than ours, so they don't notice the difference." Thornton nodded absently, then swiped at the hologram, which cycled to a another DNA readout, "I'm also quite interested in the... well for lack of a better term, the Gryphons. Seven helices of DNA per strand..." Wainwright pointed at the first base pair and raised an eyebrow, "You're looking at the first genetic material we've ever seen that we don't, and never will, have the technology to alter, or properly read." Laren glanced at the Doctor, his lips twisted downward in concern, "Meaning, Doctor?" Thornton interjected, "Meaning we should not exchange any bodily fluids with any of them if it can be at all avoided, most especially the Gryphons. All of their immune systems are powerful enough to do fatal damage to our own bloodstream and organs if there is significant liquid bio-material crossover, via..." The scientist coughed awkwardly, "Eh.. well via any method whatsoever. A quarter-pint of even the Equine's blood is likely enough to kill someone in a matter of minutes." Laren sighed in a mixture of concern, awe, and fascination. "So noted, Doctor. So noted." Equestrian Calendar: 2nd Month, 9th Day, Year 1002 PB (Post Banishment) Two Hours After Noon 2 NM East of The Barrier (Equestrian Side) The ship was best described as a 'Junk.' Not merely because of its ribbed sails, and sharply curved body, but because the nomenclature was a humorously applicable double entendre; the craft was cobbled together from old decaying birch wood, badly maintained hemp rope, and rusty nails. For all its faults, the vessel was seaworthy, and sported a pair of large ballistae. The crew were an excellent match for their ship; shades of gray and rust color, bedraggled, ill-maintained, but unexpectedly dangerous. Captain Drek was not merely the master of the nameless craft, but also the Alpha of the small pack of Diamond Dogs that served as its core crew. The canine creatures under his sway were mostly the Troll subspecies; gray furred, large fanged, and evocative of nothing so much as a giant, ambipedal, maimed bulldog. The minority remainder of the crew was a motley collection of disgraced Lupines and Vulpines who needed income sorely enough to be apathetic as to the manner, and legality, of its acquisition. 'Pirates' was not entirely an applicable term; the crew preferred smuggling and illegal fishing by far; what few warships were in the Equestrian navy were mostly tasked with stopping piracy outright rather than bothering with less violent offenses. Illegal fishing, while the least profitable of potential endeavours, was also the safest; en masse fishing for gathering food was forbidden within Equestrian borders, but the sea was vast and the illegal sub-tropical fish found off the Nation's coast sold for a higher profit than the cold-water species which could be legally gathered further north. In all his years as a Captain, Drek had never once run afoul of the authorities while fishing more than twenty miles from shore. The Troll relaxed his grip on the tiller slightly, and took a deep breath of the salty air. The morning had been clear, but around noon a massive bank of fog and rain clouds had rolled in. The drizzle, combined with the thick gray murkiness, more or less guaranteed that his small craft would go unnoticed for the rest of the day. The first indication that something was wrong turned out to be the compass. While Drek's ship skimped on many things, a compass was an absolute necessity for seafaring; the one Drex had purchased and maintained for the vessel was perhaps the most expensive item on board, its binnacle rimmed in gold with a ruby sheath for the north-pointing needle. Said needle had begun to spin crazily, as if it had been smoking copious amounts of Poison Joke along with the dregs of the crew the evening before. Drex reached out, an expression of confusion twisting his muzzle and revealing a snaggled fang; he tapped the glass casing of the instrument once, then repeatedly and more fiercely with one dirty gray claw. The device, rather than righting itself, only became more agitated, as if someone were trying to boil off the water on which the piece of magnetic metal floated within its housing. Drex's attention was torn from the compass, abruptly, by a shout from the Crow's Nest. The lookout, a crippled Vulpine with a ragged unkempt tail, was gesturing frantically and yelling, "CAPTAAAAIN!" The Troll looked first to the lookout, and it took him a moment to come out of his stupor; he realized the Vulpine was trying to direct his attention to something else. Drex peered intently into the fog. Slowly but surely, a shimmering illusory form appeared, an obstacle he could only describe mentally as a 'wall.' Drex's paws flew to the tiller, almost reflexively, his gnarled claws biting down hard into the already scratched and splintered birch. Despite his feverish attempts to correct course, the ship's momentum was too great; the vessel plowed directly into the barrier, passing through it as if it were no more substantial than the fog bank that had masked it. All at once, the murk was gone, replaced by the acrid scent of something new and disturbing. The sky above was suddenly a shade of upsetting teal, and the waves below considerably choppier. The Captain cast a furtive glance over one shoulder to behold the barrier, and beyond it the fog bank they had been sailing through. For nearly a minute, no one aboard stirred; all were trying to make some sense of the events that had abruptly transpired. The calm was shattered at last by the advent of the first mate from below decks. The smaller Troll was obviously intoxicated to the point of immobility, a half-full beaker of strong Gryphon meade clasped firmly in one shaking paw. He blinked in the almost-sunlight, then turned a dazed look on his Captain, "Whatever happen, we swears, it wasn't our fault." He punctuated the sentance with a jarring hiccup. Drex sighed in frustration. Earth Calendar: 1/21/2102 14:18 GMT ACV-10 UES Yorktown 5 NM West of the Barrier (Earth Side) The large ovoid table was obviously a temporary fixture. The Yorktown was a ship of enforcement and war, therefore it lacked most basic diplomatic amenities. A stark cubic gunmetal compartment had been abruptly appropriated for use as an embassy while the visitors' blood tests were being processed. Flags representing the carrier group's emblem, and the Yorktown crest, had been hurriedly affixed on either side of the door, and the Earthgov emblem had been hung on one of the back walls. Chairs, some stools stolen from the mess-hall, and a large mobile computer cart complete with big screen, holo projector, and a full data-link rounded out the impromptu facility. Admiral Laren, the Captain, Thornton, the XO, and a young lieutenant with a DaTab stood in full formal dress on one side of the table, waiting. Laren's stony visage betrayed no real sentiment, and the Captain seemed genuinely relaxed; Thornton and the young female Lieutenant, however, were sweating with anticipation and doing their best, in their own quirky ways, to look more composed. There was a clank and a hiss as the compartment door slid open, and Luna entered flanked by the Gryphons, Flux, and Zephyr. The young Lieutenant stiffed to the point of comedic effect. Thornton settled for nervously straightening his tie for the thousandth time. Before the moment could become awkward, Admiral Laren stepped forward and offered a hand in greeting to the Princess, "I'd like to officially welcome you aboard again. Talking through a piece of glass just seems overly impersonal." Luna seemed slightly unsure what to do with the proffered hand, so she placed one hoof delicately into it. For Laren, the contact was like an electric shock; the realization of the significance of his act, combined with the unexpectedly soft texture of the Equine ruler's hoof nearly caused him to forget himself. He remembered his decorum, however, decades of Naval experience reasserting his composure forcefully. He shook Luna's hoof once firmly, then stepped back and gestured to the empty spaces and stools on the visitors' side of the table, "Please, sit." As Luna and Zephyr lowered two stools to their minimum height, and shuffled them into position. the Captain felt compelled to offer his own greeting to Sildinar, extending a hand, "I'm Captain Wallace. Welcome aboard." Sildinar shook the proffered hand first, followed by Brelik, who squeezed just enough to make the Captain slightly nervous; he hadn't been expecting the wickedly sharp ends of the beings' talons to come into direct contact, and he had to fight a strong impulse to shy back. Brelik followed through with what Wallace assumed to be a small grin of appreciation for his fortitude, then fell to setting up his own stool. After several seconds of fiddling and straightening and adjusting, everyone was at last seated around the table. Laren cleared his throat, and leaned forward, "So, I'm sure we all have questions that need answering while we wait for an official Earthgov response. Guests are, on this world, traditionally given the honor of being first so.." Laren gestured expansively, "I'm sure between the four of us, we can answer most basic questions." Luna inclined her head with a small smile, "Such is the custom with guests on our world as well. We gladly accept your invitation. My first question concerns your world; how many of you are there?" Thornton raised his hand as if he were in school, then slowly dropped it. His sheepish expression spoke to his embarrassment, and he quickly did his best to cover for the slip, "Ahhh... last census data placed the world population at almost exactly nine point five billion... How many live on your world? And how many races are you for that matter?" Flux spoke up, stammering at first but swiftly stabilizing, "There are.. ahh.. about six billion of us as near as we can guess, but that counts all races. As for the known races with civilization, there are nine, if you think of their majesties, our monarchs, as a separate race. In addition to the Ponies, Alicorns, and Gryphons; we know of, or have regular contact with Dragons, Minotaurs, Zebra, Changelings, Diamond Dogs, and Buffalo." The awed moment of shock spoke to the impact the words had on the human envoys. Laren shook himself abruptly, as if clearing his head, and glanced between Flux and Thornton, "If its amenable I'd like for you two to sit down after we're done here and compile reports for both governments on all applicable... species, involved in this." The way Laren said 'species' gave the Equestrians a vague, but disquieting understanding of just how strange their advent was to human observers. Sildinar interjected with the next question, "To my eyes, this seems to be a ship for war. Is that true?" Zephyr mumbled, with good-natured scorn, "Well of course, they *shot* at me..." Captain Wallace was quick to respond, "An action we are sorry for. Yes, this is a ship of war, and of keeping the peace. We use powerful AI to evaluate incoming threats, and automatically respond in order to ensure the safety of the crew." Flux raised an eyebrow quizzically, "A-I ?" Thornton nodded, "Artificial intelligence. The logical and creative power of a human mind, within the construct of the positronic lattice of a quantum computing device...." He trailed off as he saw the Equestrians' expressions, which ranged from utterly confused on Luna's part, to indifference amongst the warriors, and curiosity plastered all over Flux's muzzle. The lieutenant spoke up, "It's aahhh... a machine that simulates parts of a mind, but much faster." Flux's curious expression swiftly morphed to one of abject awe, "How is such magic *possible?*" Thornton half snorted, and half laughed, "Magic? No no no. Science. Machines. Electrical circuits, silicon, and bioneural gel-packs, and positronic latticework. Titanium, transparent aluminum, nanites, carbon nanotubes... Everything we have, we have created with machinery." Luna looked genuinely disturbed by the revelation, "Then you know nothing at all of magic?" Laren shifted uncomfortably, "I wouldn't say 'know.' There are... ahhh..." "Legends?" The Captain offered helpfully. "Myths." The Lieutenant said without glancing up from her DaTab, where she was furiously typing to keep pace with the conversation. Thornton interjected, "I think we had best use the term 'anecdotal history.' After all, Gryphons were supposed to be a 'myth,' and yet there are two in this room." Laren exhaled and shook his head slightly in wonderment, "I suppose we're going to be making a great many surprising discoveries soon enough." Luna nodded her agreement, "The very fact, as Flux has point out, that we speak the same words, and use the same numbers, must mean that we shared some strong point of commonality once." Thornton winced, "Finding it though? That's going to be the rough part." Wallace shook his head once, "Until the two eggheads have had time to sit down and hash things out, I think we should stick to questions we can answer in the here and now." Sildinar and Brelik both nodded once sharply, smiling in appreciation of the officer's blunt manner. The Captain continued, "Now what *I* want to know is; which of these other races you've listed are friendlies, and which are potential problems? That's a *big* barrier out there," he gestured out beyond the opaque bulkhead in the general direction of the anomaly, "And I think Centcom is going to want to know what might come out on any given day." Brelik's rumbling baritone surprised everyone, "As to our kind, and the Ponies, Zebras, and Buffalo you have nothing to fear so long as you act peaceably to us. The Dragons vary by color and clan, but few enough should have interest in crossing. For now. Your real concern should be Diamond Dog Trolls, and Changelings. They may well see your world as an exploitable opportunity." Luna nodded, "Much of this depends on charting the barrier within Equestria as well. If the sea cuts off most access, then you have considerably less cause for concern. If not, then you should strongly consider guarding the barrier." Laren grunted, "Given *that* response? I expect full scale patrols will be established within a matter of days." Sildinar inclined his head slightly, "This begs a similar question from us; do we have anything to fear from your world?" Thornton shook his head, "As far as we can tell, we can not cross the Barrier, nor can our materials. Further experimentation is needed to determine how extensive that rule of physics is, but if indications are to be trusted, then we can not cross, but you can." Flux sighed, "A sobering thought." No one else seemed to notice, but Laren caught the tiniest flit of concern and sadness passing over Luna's muzzle. He made a mental note to query her on the matter after the meeting. Thornton filled the void with a redirecting question, "Magic... Could you explain what you mean by that? You keep mentioning it..." In response Luna's horn flared with a blue, cyan, and silver luminosity. A field of similar light encompassed one of the empty stools, and the object rose into the air, supported only by the field of magic and its tinkling wind-chime-like sound. Thornton stood and gaped, "Incredible...." Flux shook his head and chuckled, "Basic telekinesis. As near as we can tell, your world has less magic to draw upon than ours... in Equestria, I can change a rat into a miniature approximation of a Dragon. The Princess raises and lowers the moon every dusk and dawn. Her sister, the sun." The Captain shook his head, "Well... not here she doesn't. Our sun and moon are celestial bodies, as is our world, floating in a vast vacuum with many others like them." Zephyr snorted, "Well, now I've heard everything." Luna spoke without regard to the audacious Pegasus' words, "In all the time we have been here, your sky has remained this ashen color. Is this unseasonable weather?" Thornton sighed and shook his head slowly, "We wish it were. Once our people had polluted our sky terribly. We sought a way to fix this, but the experiment failed. In failing, it changed our sky permanently. Plants died soon after, then the decay traveled through the food web at unprecedented speed. Now we eat synthetic food, and aside from microbes we are the only life on this world." Luna smiled in wan sympathy, "Mayhaps there will be a way for us to aid you in the days to come." The Admiral grinned and sat back, "Who knows? I've already seen more miracles today than in the rest of my life put together. And it's only two hours after noon." Flux tapped his hooves together nervously for a moment, before speaking up once more, "So what happens now?" The Admiral nodded at the screen, "Once we receive instructions from our central military, and the ruling civilian Council, we will hopefully proceed with proper diplomatic protocol. I expect they will want you to come ashore." Luna cast a glance at Zephyr, "Ready yourself to courier a message back to the Azimuth, and have it relayed to Canterlot. I shall compose it within the hour." Laren stood and straightened his dress jacket, "I have to say... this has been something I won't soon forget. I will assign you all a junior officer to escort you to any part of the ship you wish to see, that isn't off limits, as well as set you up with access to part of our database." Thornton smiled at Flux, "As you suggested Admiral, I'd like to get started with my compatriot here." The Captain gestured to the door, "Shall we?" Earth Calendar: 1/21/2102 14:23 GMT Bedraggled Junk 2 NM West, Northwest of the Barrier (Earth Side) Drek's first mate, a smaller and wiry Troll who went by Bluestone, was finally beginning to sober. Drex reflected that this was not much of an improvement, however, because 'sober' for Bluestone was 'three sheets to the wind' for most others. Bluestone was bent over the the ship's compass, tapping it absently with his meade bottle, "You know, Captain, we have never noticed how unique pretty gems in compass were." Drek rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation, "Unique? Compass is *broken.* If we ever get back home, someone's head will roll, we promise that." As Bluestone looked on in a stupor, Drek fell to pantomiming the salespony in a whiny pitchy voice, "'Compass is freedom!' He says, 'Compass can take you anywhere,' 'Compass always point to north..." Drek rounded on the Binnacle and shouted at the top of his lungs, "WELL IT DOES NOT POINT NORTH *NOW* DOES IT?!" Bluestone shrugged, "If Drek wants, we can always send Pony up the long river." The phrase was a dark euphemism that spoke to Bluestone's inner sadist. On first glance, the Troll seemed little more than a drunkard, but when roused to it he had a deep-running addiction to causing suffering in others and enjoying the fallout. 'Up the Long River,' was common smuggler-speak for the difficult but monetarily rewarding passage up a wide nameless tributary of some mountain stream, deep into the far North-East. For those who could prepare a worthy vessel, and cargo, the chitinous inhabitants of the black crags paid handsomely for 'live goods.' Even Drek shuddered to think what the dark-ones did to the Ponies they had delivered on and off over the years. Bluestone just seemed to find it vaguely humorous. The Captain was torn from his considerations by a peculiar sight on the horizon. Diamond dog eyes were not well suited to ranged vision, instead having unparalleled ability to pick out closer details in the pitch black of darkness. Drek shoved Bluestone aside roughly, and pulled a worn, cracked telescope from under the wheel. He raised the rusting tube to one eye, and peered at the glint of metal that had caught his attention. To his astonishment, the Troll beheld a small, gleaming steel craft rising from *beneath* the waves. He stood and stared for a long moment; long enough that Bluestone finally leaned around to look into the end of the telescope; an expression of idiotic curiosity gracing his yellowed teeth and squinty eyes, "What Captain found?" Drek slowly lowered the telescope, and continued to stare at the gleaming speck, "Bluestone? If we had boat that could travel *under* waves..." Bluestone looked confused for several seconds, then grinned manically, "Bluestone will roust the crew." Drek's gaze followed his Beta as he fell to making attack preparations. Sometimes Drek thought his fellow Troll enjoyed the killing more than the rewards. ExCET had a variety of resources at its disposal. One of the more peculiar cards in their vast deck were the geological research submarines of the Earthgov Science Academy. Through a deep-cover plant, they had the ability to commandeer one of the small, swift, unarmed craft without the notice of higher powers. The vessels were often useful for inserting teams of agents or soldiers into areas that would otherwise be restricted. ExCET had gathered, and dispatched, one such team very shortly after they gained possession of the first footage from the barrier. The vessel had arrived, surfaced, and the four scientists were standing on the flat, traction-coated fore-deck aiming a bevy of passive and active instruments at the barrier. Below, a pilot, engineer, and two guards manned stations. The operational window was a mere hour, but it was considered the only acceptable risk period where the gains stood to outweigh the costs. Anything longer would pose too much chance of Yorktown's CAP accidentally spotting the tiny craft, anything shorter and no new data would be acquired. The scientists were so focused on the barrier, that they failed to notice the arcane looking sailing ship approaching from behind, its dirty-white birch construction lending it a ghoulish aspect in the gray afternoon light. The first warning came in the form of a six foot long javelin that buried itself in the scientist closest to the railing. By the time the guards had taken notice of the chaos, it was too late. The last thing the stunned troopers saw was the form of a furious canine, descending from above, with bloody teeth and claws. No one even had a chance to fire a weapon in defense. Earth Calendar: 1/21/2102 16:12 GMT ACV-10 UES Yorktown 5 NM West of the Barrier (Earth Side) Flux and Thornton had found in each other, kindred spirits. Though some of the terminology was different, and their fields only had some slight overlap, both shared enough in common to provide a touchstone. Both were lovers of science above all else, both raised in fairly sheltered environs, and both sponsored by great politicians. Their fascination with, what to them was 'alien' biology, drove their conversation for hours before they began to notice a creeping hunger and thirst. The pair exited the conference room laughing and snorting. Thornton was wiping tears from his eyes, "So I said to him; 'no sir... that's a paramecium.' " Flux cocked his head, and Thornton explained, which caused the Unicorn to burst into his own peals of laughter once more. The pair walked slowly to the nearest mess-hall, talking animatedly as they went, of biology topics that would be foreign even to most graduate students. After several minutes of wandering, and more than a few wrong turns, they managed to happen upon their destination. Zephyr, the Ascendant's Captain, and a half-dozen Pony crew members were busy alternately poking at plates of synth-paste, and badgering the human crew with their curiosity-laden questions. The human crew, in turn, seemed content to answer as long as they could also ask in turn. Most were simply dumbstruck and fascinated at the chance to watch extraterrestrial life living and breathing in front of them. Flux raised a hoof and waggled it towards the serving line, "You eat... that?" Thornton shrugged, "You get used to the taste. And the texture... mostly." The pair were halfway to the tray stack, when the entire world dropped out from under them. Laren had just reached the bridge, having set a later time for a private meeting with Luna, when the deck pitched violently beneath his boots. Seconds later general quarters automatically sounded, interspersed with the chilling tone of a breach alarm. The ship's hull and systems AI calmly announced over the PA, "Warning. Internal detonation. Breach and structural damage in compartment one-two, tac one-five-three-A, tac eight." Laren gritted his teeth, and pulled himself back to a stable standing posture, "This is just one of *those* days..."