//------------------------------// // Test I: Psionic Strength // Story: Research Project: Sparkle // by Axquirix //------------------------------// There was a long, low groaning sound. Twilight’s ears picked up, and she glanced around herself. Was something moving the cell? Was it falling apart? What was that noise, and why wouldn’t it stop? Yellow light began to filter into the room from behind her, providing stark contrast against the cold blue glow that most of the ceiling emitted. She span around, to see the two halves of the separated wall splitting apart. A gap! She could escape! She began to run towards the opening, before she stopped, her hooves sliding across the smooth steel floor as she fought for some grip. What if this wouldn’t let her out? What if it let something else… in? The gap drew wider as the two massive shutters were drawn away, and the intensity of the yellow light lowered. She could now easily make out that there was a thick sheet of glass filling the hole, which she had somehow missed before. She could also make out that, beyond her tiny cell, there was a walkway made of similar metal. A few of the exoskeletal monsters lurked around, near more circular doors, but they showed little interest in her. The large number of brown, tan and peach-coloured creatures immediately behind the expansive window, however, showed a lot of interest. And with dread, Twilight realised that she recognised the style of their long, white coats – they mimicked the ones worn by researchers at Canterlot University when things were about to get messy. Her cell wasn’t square because it wasn’t a cell. It was a tube. A testing tube. Twilight Sparkle silently swallowed, quivering with fear. --- “Observation shutters withdrawn,” the systems operator said carefully. From what he knew of Dr. Vahlen’s little ‘experiments,’ she didn’t like anything to go wrong, and saying the wrong thing had happened was a good way to make it go wrong. “Affirmative,” another operator a few consoles across replied, “what’s the readout on Dr. Shen’s device?” “Green lights across the board,” the first operator spoke up, “subject currently displays no psionic amplitude.” “Confirmed,” a third operator spoke, “inhibitor is experiencing zero psionic load. Doctor Vahlen, we are ready to proceed.” Doctor Vahlen was stood front and centre among the amassed researchers, her iconic clipboard held in her left hand and resting on her hip as always. She glanced at her notes. “First on the agenda,” she spoke aloud to the team behind her, “we determine the subject’s psionic limits. Engage the panels, sixteen kilovolts.” “Engaging panels,” the operators spoke. --- The shutters at either end of the room separated slightly with a loud clunk, moved outwards from the wall, and swung wide. Two long, mechanical arms entered the chamber, and they unfolded, bringing forth two large, circular pads. Each was the size of a tabletop, and both were pointed directly at the unicorn sat in the centre of the room. Twilight sat still for a moment. They weren’t going to crush her, were they? She cautiously wondered whether it was safe to dismiss the idea, or if she needed to start moving, fast. Then the humming started. A low, almost beastly, quiet buzz. It began to rise in intensity, becoming more and more grating against the mare’s ears, until finally, it reached a height that Twilight could barely hear herself think above, and held steady for a moment. Suddenly, both pads came alive, arcs of blue-white lightning crackling along either surface, each lash of blinding light filling the cell with thunder and the smell of ozone. Twilight, panicking, helpless, and afraid, could do nothing but look between either electrode as they began to close in. --- “Panels charged, beginning interrogation…” the operator spoke, a note of uncertainty in his voice. Dr. Vahlen watched. Normally the shutters would be closed to prevent the research team from seeing anything graphic, but today they were left open. Today she was looking for something different. She remained utterly expressionless as she observed, and it made most of the accompanying scientists nervous. “We’ve got psionic activity!” the second operator called out, “Load at 4.6Vh and rising!” There was a faint glow around the subject’s horn, and it seemed to be concentrating, hard. The panels continued to move in regardless, unimpeded through the shielding provided by Dr. Shen’s inhibitor field. “Scale up the inhibition,” Vahlen ordered, “Continue engaging the panels.” The two operators glanced at each other for a moment before complying. As the psionic damping lowered, the alien’s horn began to glow brighter, and the panels began to match the glow, faintly. Their movement was slowed slightly, but far from stopped. “Load still rising,” the first operator spoke, “scaling up damping field to forty-five per cent… forty-six… forty-seven…” “Don’t let it stop the electrodes,” Vahlen commanded, “but continue to monitor the load. We need to know just how powerful this specimen is.” --- Twilight was scared out of her wits. Not by the panels, oh no. She’d managed to overcome whatever was blocking her magic, just enough to slow their advance, and she was stopping them more and more. In the time she’d bought for herself, she’d noticed the really scary thing. That creature. The one at the front, in the white coat with the green stripes down the sleeves. The way it watched her. Twilight would have given anything for it to be cackling with laughter, or chuckling, or even giving her the knowing smirk of a powerful overlord that has an insignificant yet troublesome insect in its clutches at last. What she got was nothing. The mouth was a straight, flat line. The eyes just watched. It didn’t move, didn’t speak. Didn’t care. To this creature, she was little more than a piece of meat to be cut apart and studied. Not a person to be feared, or gloated at, or interrorgated, but an animal to be studied. As if that were bad enough, Twilight began to realise with horror that she almost recognised these creatures. They were, in many aspects, similar to the human residents of the world through the Crystal Mirror. Their heads were smaller, their bodies were broader, and they were all various shades of tan and brown, but the resemblance was definately there. And yet they were still subjecting her to this frightful, torturous study, no sympathy or concern visible upon their faces. As the alicorn fought harder, sweat running down her face from the failing effort to hold the crackling lightning at bay, she realised how truly, properly alone and removed from her own kind she was, that her current, only hope was a woman that thought her so alien that it didn’t see her as even sentient. Or worse, so cold that it didn’t care. *** “Did you learn anything, Doctor?” Officer Bradford asked the researcher, as he watched the hologlobe in the control room idly. “A number of things,” Dr. Vahlen replied, “before the specimen gave out, we managed to obtain a rough estimate of its psionic strength.” “’Gave out?’” Bradford turned to face his colleague, “You mean you tested it to death? I thought you said this thing was too valuable to lose?” Vahlen frowned. “Not to death, Officer Bradford, the specimen hit its psionic limit and fainted from the strain. Dr. Shen’s device did admirably, and by using it to impede the specimen’s psionic effect, we managed to gauge its strength before fainting. The subject reached an output of two hundred and seventeen Vahlens before falling unconscious, and was still managing to affect its surroundings at an impedance factor of seventy-nine percent. By comparison, the highest psionic strength we’ve seen in one of our own soldiers has been eighty-two Vahlens.” Some would have called the doctor’s decision to name the standard unit of psionic power after herself to be self-aggrandising, but as far as she was concerned, there was a long history of this happening throughout science. “Two-seventeen? You mean to tell me that thing is more than twice as powerful as our best soldiers?” Bradford’s voice raised a touch, but it wasn’t anger, neither was it directed at Vahlen. “…Two-seventeen so far, Officer,” the doctor admitted, “but it’s possible that the continuous nature of the experiment wore it out before it could achieve higher. It may be able to use stronger forces in shorter bursts.” Bradford mused for a moment. “Just for comparison, where do Ethereals fit on this scale?” Vahlen checked her notepad. “We’ve yet to gauge an Ethereals’ maximum strength, but it is believed to be around the seven hundred region. Though, with the new damping system, we may be able to gain a more accurate estimate at lower risk to the facility’s personnel. At any rate, the highest we’ve seen an Ethereal demonstrate while unimpeded and in combat would be a power of four hundred and sixty Vahlens, exactly.” The immense power that Ethereals were capable of required any captives to be regularly injected with potent sedatives, to keep them from simply escaping confinement and freeing their compatriots to attack the facility from within. “So this new alien is at least half as powerful as an Ethereal?” the man in the jumper asked. Doctor Vahlen hesitated again. “As powerful as we’ve seen an Ethereal get, yes. It certainly beats any Sectoid Commander by at least half as much strength as they are capable of.” Officer Bradford looked back up at the hologlobe, folding his arms. Musing, he murmured to himself, “Why would an engineer need so much power?” “Heavy lifting, perhaps,” the doctor interrupted, “the specimen’s psionic abilities seem to rely more on its physical surroundings than on any opposing subject, though we will also be testing its capability at psionic combat while under damping.” “I’d be interested in seeing that, when will you start?” The officer asked. Dr. Vahlen smiled, a rare thing. “My team has already begun setting up,” she replied, “but I’ll let you choose which soldier should oppose it.”