//------------------------------// // III - Far Too Loud // Story: From Lylat, With Love // by Cobalt Swirls //------------------------------// Corporal Ivan Sinclair flicked his tail back and forth as he adjusted his position in his seat. The comms room was typically quiet at this time; one or two technicians would enter the room for routine maintenance or check-ups on various spacecrafts. The coyote tapped his claws lightly against the keyboard while his left hand supported his bored head. To say he was tired was an understatement, he was fighting the urge to face plant into the dashboard and fall asleep. His job was slow to say the least, but even so he couldn’t complain. It was good, honest pay and without it, he’d be out on the streets. It was certainly more honest than his former work with a group of thieving pirates. He took a little pride in knowing that he didn’t actually take part in the killings that went on. Rather than plant a blade into someone’s back, Sinclair’s understanding of the trade market made him exceptionally useful at forging business ledgers. Electronic ones were a cinch; a few hours of computer cracking and the whole ledger could be forged and the money redirected. It was when his targets were smart enough to use book ledgers that things got dicey. Those up close and personal assignments often required a great deal of surveillance, and more often than not, a disguise or two. Alas, those days were far behind him, traded for a life of babysitting others, while they lived their lives to the fullest. Sinclair tilted his chair back and observed the monitor in front of him. His dusty brown fur lay neatly groomed underneath his coat while his keen eyes traced over the screen. It was littered with color coded dots that represented the classes of the individual ships. Most were either white or green dots which were privately owned and trade ships respectively. Blue dots could be seen in bulks, indicating friendly military ships, while rare purple dots signaled high class flag ships. Red dots were self explanatory. /Incoming Transmission: Cornerian Defense Fleet/ The coyote scrambled to collect himself and adjust his uniform. Once he was convinced he looked halfway decent, Sinclair accepted the transmission, causing the General’s face to appear onscreen. “G-General Pepper sir!” he saluted. “At ease corporal. I have an assignment in which I believe your expertise in surveillance might be of use.” “Sir?” “Please locate the vessel, The Great Fox.” “McCloud’s ship?” Pepper nodded. “The very same.” The coyote wasted no time in entering in the ship’s personalized serial number. McCloud’s vessel appeared, along with information regarding the ship’s status and position. “Alright, I’ve got it pulled up on the monitor. She’s currently departing from the Zoness Fueling Station. Looks like they’re about to jump through hyperspace,” said Sinclair, not bothering to take his eyes off of the hologram. “Establish communications with the Great Fox at the earliest possible time. I’m assigning you to a specialized support group tasked with assisting Fox McCloud and his associates with his current objective.” “May I ask what that is, sir?” “I’m afraid my time is rather limited, however, the rest of your team will provide you with the details. They will explain everything from the purpose of your selection to McCloud’s ultimate destination.” “When will I meet this team?” “They are en route as we speak. They should arrive at the center within the hour.” The dusty coyote took a moment to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t entirely sure why the general had selected him as opposed to a much more qualified member of the Cornerian surveillance analysts. It wasn’t a necessarily difficult job but there were definitely people with much more flashy credentials then he. “Affirmative sir. I’ll establish a holding track on McCloud’s ship and keep him posted, but I’ll have to wait until the vessel exits hyperspace.” The old war hound nodded. “Do so. Open a stable line of communication as soon as possible. The team’s well-being is paramount in this mission. We can’t afford to lose them.” Sinclair gave his most top-notch salute, but is face and expression soon dropped, a notable mixture of worry and anxiousness. “Something troubling you, son?” Pepper asked. “N-no sir. I’ll contact McCloud immediately. It appears he has reentered normal space,” Sinclair replied. “Alright, see to it then. Pepper out.” The general’s image vanished and the digital map of Lylat reappeared. Sinclair silently opened a communications log with The Great Fox. At first, no link could be established; the line simply flickered on and off. Suddenly, the transmission successfully connected. What he heard on the other side however, was a maelstrom of chaos. “Pull up! Pull up!” “She’s not getting any juice! Systems are failing across the board!” “Shields offline!” “Reroute the power!” “We have no power!” “Fox, we’re plummeting!” “Pull up!” Twilight Sparkle clutched her groceries in a close telekinetic grip. The brown paper bag, full of foods of every kind, bounced as evenly as her gait across the pathway through town. Beside her, her faithful assistant walked jovially, holding a bright topaz gem in his claws. “Can’t believe it was just sticking half way out of the ground like that!” Spike exclaimed, slowly licking his chops. The gem gleamed in the sunlight as he twisted his wrist back and forth. “I still think you should have left it, Spike,” Twilight began. “Maybe there was a reason it was so far out of the ground. Maybe it belongs to someone.” “Twi, no one in their right mind is going to leave a beauty like this out in the open. It does beg a question though; why was it sticking so far out?” “I really don’t know Spike, I-” Twilight suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Something had caught her eye, something extraordinary. “Spike,” she fixed her vision on the object in the sky. “Is- is that a shooting star?” “What?” Spike squinted hard in the daylight, but sure enough there was a distant object that appeared to be sailing across the baby blue sky. “Huh, how ‘bout that.” His attention was quickly diverted back to the jewel in hand. “It’s visible, even during the daylight hours. Remarkable.” She paused, gazing at the object thousands of feet in the air. That was when struck her like a bullet. The meteor was still visible. “Something’s not right. It should have passed on by now.” By now the meteor was discernibly larger. Twilight’s heart rate shot through the roof. It wasn’t getting farther away. It was getting closer. “Spike! Spike, we have to get out of here!” she shouted in a panic. She telekinetically grabbed her assistant’s tail and gave it a hearty tug, forcing him to drop the gemstone. “No! My precious!” he hissed as he lurched with all his might. Thankfully Twilight gained the upperhoof, and drew him in. In a quick flash, the two bodies disappeared, no longer in the pathway of the falling U.F.O. When they reappeared, Spike’s body took a short fall into the dirt of hillside not far out of town. The soil blanketed his tongue filling it with the bitter taste of sediment and plants. “Plaeh! Plaeh!” The dragon repeated dragged his claws on his tongue in a futile attempt to rid himself of the taste. “What was that all about?” No sooner than those words left his lips, Spike redirected his vision toward the sky. It was here that there that he spotted the deformed shape streaking down the sky. It left a trail of white smoke behind it as it gradually sped through the thick atmosphere. It wasn’t until about 30 seconds later that he and Twilight realized just how truly massive it was. “What in the name of Celestia…” Finally, in the most explosive landing she had ever seen, the U.F.O. slammed into Equestria’s brittle earth. The concussive blast from the landing knocked Twilight off of her hooves entirely. She stumbled, but eventually she was able to gain her ground. When she turned to look at the crash site, she wasn’t surprised to find that it had been completely shrouded in dust and dirt. “Oh dear.” The impact had tossed Fox from his position in his chair into a slightly crumpled heap on the ground. His skull and back ached and it felt like a rib or two had been broken, but he forced himself to stand all the way up. The room was spinning, and it wasn’t until he placed his hand on the nearby wall that he was able to stabilize himself. He coughed loudly to free his lungs of the dust and debris that had accumulated during the crash. As he scanned the room, he could see that most of the crew was no better off than he was. When Fox attempted to call out to his team, his abdomen seized up and sent him into another round of coughing. Each cough felt like a seismic burst of pain. He caught a deep breath, and held it in. When he felt like his body had calmed down, he released his breath and turned to the recovering team. “Is everyone alright?” he yelled across the bridge. “I’m okay,” Krystal sounded off. Her blue hair dangled loosely in front of her face. Her suit had been ripped in some places, and the underlying fur and skin had been cut, fairly deep in some cases. Other than these lacerations, she seemed to be fine. Peppy had himself braced against the grey console in front of him. His glasses had a small spider web-like crack along the left lens and his left hand was wrapped across his stomach. His old face flashed a series of pain filled expressions. “I’m-I’m alright! Just a little shaken up.” As Fox panned over he could see Falco sitting down against one of the bridge walls breathing heavily. From what Fox could immediately see, Falco had sustained the most serious injuries. His right wing was broken and twisted in a painful fashion. Blood dribbled down his beak and under his right eye. His breathing intensified as he started talking. “I’ll live,” he tried to reset his wing, only to groan in pain and give up. “I think.” “Running ship and crew diagnostics,” The metallic ring of ROB’s voice echoed over the sounds of electric sparks and creaking metal. “Scanning. Scanning. Scan complete. Hull integrity critical, vampire suction fangs offline, particle field offline, engine temperature critical, power at 6%, twin lasers and hanger bay have sustained moderate damage. Two of four available Arwings are disabled.” ROB suddenly pivoted himself toward one of the relatively undamaged consoles and attached himself to it with a soft metallic clang. “Checking crew lifelines, please wait.” A few still moments passed before the robot spoke again. “Status obtained: “Fox McCloud: Alive. “Peppy Hare: Alive. “Falco Lombardi: Alive. Heavy injuries sustained. Medical attention is advised. “Krystal McCloud: Alive.” Fox could hear Falco chuckled from across the room, even through his heavy injuries. Fox simply rolled his eyes. “Slippy Toad: Incapacitated. Critical injuries received. Warning, fatality is certain if medical attention is not provided.” Fox’s heart skipped a beat. “Slippy! Slippy!” he continued to yell. By now Falco had already gotten up and begun digging through the debris to which the others quickly joined him. The pheasant realized his digging was too impaired with his wing and quickly remedied the issue. He grabbed it with is good wing and continuously yanked it until he and the others heard a sickening crack. Krystal put her hand over her mouth and gasped, slightly horrified at the scene. The wing had been put back into place, but the inside bones were still undoubtedly shattered. It hardly mattered. He continued to dig away at the rubble until he came across a little green hand. “In here!” he shouted. The team worked in unison to reveal their buried teammate. What they saw after was heart wrenching. Slippy face was cut in several directions as was his torso. Every time he took a shallow breath, blood would form near the corners of his mouth. It was safe to assume that at least one of Slippy’s lungs had been viciously punctured. If he didn’t get the help he needed, the little green mechanic would not make it. Fox circled around to Slippy’s head. “Grab his feet; we need to get him to the clinic.” Twilight slowly approached the wreckage of the crashed ship. The earth that had lain in its path had been viciously gouged out and removed. It was astounding that the vessel had managed to remain more or less intact. Large, hot metal plates flaked off of its body and sailed violently into the ground. The machine, or whatever it was, was of absolutely monolithic proportions. Spanning hundreds of ponylengths both high and wide, the beastly amalgamation of hot metal and earthly remnants lurched forward slightly before setting into the dirt. To say it wasn’t of this world was an understatement. It didn’t even appear to be from this time period. The lavender unicorn placed her hoof to her hand and rubbed it. The sound of the crash had been near deafening and her ears rung with noisy excitement. Physical stability on solid ground was something she took for granted. Not anymore. Twilight peered down at Spike to see that he was also quite shaken from the impact. He put his tiny claws to his temples and rubbed them vigorously. Every so often he would peer at the beast, as if to make sure it wasn’t going to suddenly leave without saying goodbye. “Twilight, please tell me you know what this is,” he muttered. Twilight simply shook her head. She hadn’t seen anything like it. Whatever it was, it was uniquely designed. The end closest to her was much thicker than its nose and contributed to much of its girth. Its hind portion contained two large black tubes that seemed to leak a brilliant display of residual fire. “Spike…take a letter.”