The Majestic Tale (of a Mad-Pony in a Box)

by R5h

The Advent of Betaurus (a)

Now, Rarity asked herself, hunched over her writing desk, how would a lady phrase this? She pictured the most impressive library of Canterlot, with herself sitting not at her own cramped desk, but at one of that library's gorgeously adorned oaken tables. Surely, in a place of such grand literature, she herself could be moved to write something of similar merit.

“Dear Sapphire Shores,” she read aloud as she wrote, quill held by magic in front of her. “I am truly flattered that you would think of me as the best candidate to design the costumes for your next show. However, you must see that the price range you've suggested is tantamount to slave labor, and would leave me in a state of nothing less than paupery!”

The grandeur of the library dissolved, leaving her back in her cluttered workspace. “That... started well, but... too melodramatic,” she decided, sweeping the letter off her desk and into an adjacent trash bin, which held several similar letters. “After all, we'll have to meet halfway.”

She walked to the window and looked up at the moon; judging by its position, she guessed it would have to be around 11:00. She sighed. I really would like to get this done soon.

However, as she looked down to ground level, something caught her eye, if only just; a cloaked, hooded figure walking through the grass near her home. Well, that's one plan down the drain. But, she thought, as a smile came to her lips for the first time that night, I suppose I needed a break.

She opened her door and called out to the figure. “Is it you, dear?” In response, she raised a hoof from under her cloak. “Good!” Rarity said, waving back. “I'll be just a moment.”

Humming a little ditty to herself, she grabbed a scarf from a rack near her door—for warmth and style—then turned off the lights and exited Carousel Boutique.

Even as close as Rarity was, the figure's thick brown cloak obscured any details or sense of identity. She waited until Rarity had closed and locked her door, then set off away from town at a pace just slow enough to look casual to any onlookers. Rarity knew better; this was important business, and so she followed.

“So, what do you want to work on today, Miss Qeta?” she asked the figure beside her.

“Not present. Not past.” Qeta's accent was difficult to place—but then, of course it would be, Rarity reflected.

“Ah, yes.” Rarity had had enough on her mind that the relevant information had slipped away, but now it returned. “Yes, the future tense. We discussed this at the end of our last appointment, as I remember.”

“And we... not did, but other... talk it next time?”

“And we will discuss it next time.” Rarity shook her head gently as the two of them hopped over the fence surrounding Sweet Apple Acres; it was the quickest way to where they needed to go. “Well, we've got a lot of work to do.”

Applejack had a lot on her mind—which made perfect sense, considering how harvest season was only a few days away; she just wished it didn't have to keep her up so darned late. She'd tried to fight it—she'd lain in her bed for hours, keeping her eyes stubbornly closed—but it was pointless, and she had not a wink of sleep to show for it. So, she gave up, got up, and started pacing her room as she tried to compute how many apples she'd be able to sell to Barnyard Bargains while ensuring a good crop for the local market.

After what felt like an hour of this, she'd gotten intimately acquainted with the texture of each floorboard under her hoof, but had achieved nothing else. She snorted with frustration. Maybe I'll ask one of the girls to help with this. Rarity's got a good head for business; I'll try her tomorrow.

A flash of white in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she looked out her window. Is that... Rarity? Outside, in the middle of the night?

Applejack closed her eyes and rubbed them with her hooves. Can't be her—I'm just tired and I thought about her, and now I'm seeing things. But when she opened her eyes again, Rarity was still outside and walking away from the Everfree Forest. Applejack checked her wall clock and saw that it was well after midnight; Rarity would never be out and about at such a time.

Applejack grabbed her hat and trotted out of her room, leaving all thoughts of Barnyard Bargains behind. She slowed only to make sure she wouldn't wake up Apple Bloom, Big Macintosh, or Granny Smith on her way downstairs; once she was out of the house she sped up to a canter, and caught up with Rarity before she'd gotten much further.

“Rarity!” she called. Rarity looked up with an air of uncertainty at the mention of her name, as though there might be other Rarities to whom Applejack might be referring. “What are you doin' out? I've never seen you on a nighttime walk before.”

“What? No, no, this isn't a... well, of course it is! Yes, a little evening jaunt does wonders for the soul, does it not?” She smiled a bit too widely at Applejack.

“Rarity, are you okay?” The mare made to walk away, but Applejack thrust a hoof in front of her. Now that she was up close, Applejack could see the twigs and leaves caught in Rarity's usually spotless hair and coat. “You look like you've just left the Everfree Forest.”

“Well, if I've done something like that, then I must have had a good reason, don't you think? Good night, Applejack.”

“You were in the Everfree Forest, in the middle of the night, alone. There ain't a good enough reason in Equestria for that!”

A faint smile lifted the corners of Rarity's mouth. “I suppose you're right about that. Now good night, Applejack.”

“Rarity, you're not goin' anywhere until you start explainin'—”

“As I said, good night.” With a harrumph, Rarity walked around Applejack's outstretched hoof and continued on toward her home.

Applejack watched her go, wishing she knew what in Sam Hill was going on.

Knock knock knock.

Twilight opened the door to her house and was surprised to see not just the Doctor, but Pinkie Pie and Bon Bon as well. “Morning, Twilight!” said Bon Bon, as the three of them entered the library. “You're looking a bit blue today.” Pinkie Pie giggled.

Twilight wasn't quite sure what to make of this, as she didn't feel remotely sad. After all, how could she be sad on a day like this – a day where they'd be testing the TARDIS's translation circuit and perception filters? She decided to worry about Bon Bon's statement later.

“So, let's get started!” the Doctor said, apparently incapable of keeping a grin off his face. “Translation circuit first, d'you think?” He must be excited too, Twilight reasoned, as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a chunk of TARDIS coral. “You have the book?”

“Yes, of course,” Twilight said, pulling a large Fancy for Beginners book from a shelf behind her. “Did you bring Pinkie Pie and Bon Bon to help with the test, then? Because they don't know Fancy?”

“I actually spent a semester of college in Fance,” Bon Bon said, rolling her eyes as she affected the most ridiculous Fancy accent and manner possible. “Eet waz, 'ow do you say, vairy good.” Some weird hoof-waving in front of her face completed the effect; Pinkie Pie giggled again.

“Don't worry, Twilight—I barely understand a word! Lay your par-lezz-vouse on me!” Pinkie sat on her behind and folded her forelegs in front of her body.

“All right. Ready?” she asked the Doctor, who pointed his sonic screwdriver at the coral and activated it. Ridges along the coral's face started glowing in a gradient from red on one side to blue on the other. After a moment spent scrutinizing this, he looked back up at Twilight and nodded.

Twilight lifted the book with her magic, opened it to a random page, and found a sentence. “Le livre est sur la table.”

“C'est pas du tout sur la table!” Pinkie gestured at the book. “C'est dans l'air maintenant!” Twilight gaped at the perfect Fancy issuing from her friend's mouth.

The Doctor's smile widened, and he pointed his sonic screwdriver at the piece of coral; within a few seconds, the red and blue light had faded away. “Could you repeat that, exactly as you said it?”

“A-he-he-hem.... It's not on the table at all!” Pinkie gestured at the book in the exact same way. “It's in the air right now! And I thought you were going to speak Fancy, Twilight!”

“Très bien!” the Doctor exclaimed. “I think we can call that test a success!”

Pinkie scratched her chin with a hoof. “I don't get it.”

“Oh, but the circuit did! The circuit got everything!” The Doctor lifted it triumphantly. “I set it up to translate between English and Fren—er, Fancy, so that anything you said in English would come out as Fancy, and anything Twilight said in....” He sighed. “Can I just call it French?”

“That's not a word, Doctor,” Bon Bon said, perched on the stairs to the library's second floor and smiling a little. “And what's English?”

“But... oh, fine. Anything Twilight said in Fancy would come out as English, or, I dunno... Equestrian.” He flipped the circuit in the air before shoving it into his pocket. “Course, it only does two languages right now, but once it's hooked up to the TARDIS, any language will get translated into the listener's native tongue! You can forget what 'language barrier' even means!”

“Sounds wonderful,” Twilight said, replacing the book in its slot. “So, if we're done with that test, then next on the list is the perception filter, right? So the TARDIS doesn't get noticed wherever it lands?”

“Oh. Well.” The Doctor grinned again. “We already know that works.”

“Um... I don't follow. Did you do a test without me?”

“Not at all!” The Doctor shook his head, still wearing the smile that Twilight, by now, was starting to find somewhat annoying. “Do you notice the necklace you're wearing?”

“What necklace? Where?”

Bon Bon snorted. “Around your neck, dumbo. Where else?”

“I think I would have noticed if I had a necklace around....” Twilight realized what she was saying. Of course I wouldn't have. That's the whole point. She looked down and narrowed her eyes. There's nothing here but some old piece of cord, and that's not what I'm looking for. “I'm sorry, I really don't see it.”

“Keep thinking,” the Doctor said.

“Okay, but....” Her mouth opened into a nice O shape. Of course! That piece of cord is the necklace! “Very clever,” she said, not willing to look up; she kept her full attention on the old useless piece of cord—the necklace, she reminded herself. “You got the perception filter around me without me noticing. Great prank.” She sighed with exasperation, as if she didn't feel stupid for having been duped.

“Very astute.” The Doctor beamed at her. “Take it off.”

“Not a great test, if you ask me,” Twilight said, putting on a smirk as she pulled the necklace off. “After all, the filter needs to be able to hide something a bit bigger, and... bluer....”

She looked down again, and noticed that she'd been painted in bright blue plaid. Her jaw dropped. “How—what—what?”

Pinkie, Bon Bon, and the Doctor burst out laughing. “How did you do this?” Twilight screamed.

“Borrowed Bon Bon's body paint,” Pinkie gasped. “Got the necklace on you last night. You didn't notice a thing. No one else did either.” She jumped into the air and clicked her back hooves together. “Best... prank... ever!”

“Does it wash off?”

“Aww, you wanna get rid of it already?” Pinkie pouted. “I think it makes you look really classy.”

“Does it wash off?” The paint had covered her for hours, she realized, and the full horror of this fact was sinking in. She could feel it seeping into her coat, stiffening, making it harder to move.

“Of course it does.” Bon Bon rolled her eyes again. “That's why I use it. Just take a shower.”

Twilight barged upstairs, past Bon Bon. “Spike!” she yelled. “I need you to prepare me a shower now! A big one!”

“A big one?” His voice came from further up the stairs.

“The biggest!”

“It does wash off, right?” The Doctor asked, as soon as he could hear the hissing sound of Twilight's shower from upstairs.

Bon Bon shrugged, and hopped down to the ground floor. “Probably. Though I never keep it on for more than a few hours when I'm using it.”

Pinkie zoomed right up to Bon Bon's face. “Wait, you never said anything about that! She's been painted for hours!”

Bon Bon didn't flinch. “Eh, she'll be fine. And hey—we know the filter works.”

“But—you—but I—oh, now I feel terrible!” Pinkie frowned, and her hair seemed to lose some of its luster. Oh, who am I kidding—of course it actually lost luster. The Doctor smiled; it was easier than trying to explain the mechanisms by which Pinkie worked.

Knock knock knock.

“I'll get it!” Pinkie dashed to the door, her hair re-pinking as she went. She opened it and beamed at Applejack, who was standing just outside.

“Uh... hi, Pinkie. Is Twilight home?”

“Yes, but she can't talk right now, and it's all my fault!” Pinkie bawled. “Oh, and also Bon Bon's. But mostly mine!”

“Right... she is okay, right? I kinda need to talk with her as soon as possible. It's....” Applejack grimaced, and leaned in close to Pinkie. “It's about Rarity. I think she might be in trouble.” She whispered these words, with the intention—the Doctor presumed—of keeping the others in the room from hearing anything. He'd heard every word. Maybe it's something about being the Element of Honesty that makes a person no good at being secretive; Derpy can't keep anything quiet either.

“You can tell me all about it!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed.

“Privately!” Applejack hissed.

“Riiiight, privately.” Pinkie turned to the Doctor and put on an absurd British accent. “Would you excuse us, good sir? We have matters to discuss... in private.” She doffed an imaginary hat and held it in front of her chest.

“Oh, of course. Private. Right, yes, I'll just... be outside.” The Doctor turned around and walked out of the building, and kept walking in that direction until he was pretty sure they weren't looking at him. Then, he sat casually beneath the window, which no one had bothered to close. Now, are they going to look out the window? The way he figured it, if they didn't take that precaution, he practically deserved to hear what they had to say.

“Now, I know this might sound absolutely incredible,” Applejack began from inside the library. “But I was up late last night, and I saw Rarity walking out of the Everfree Forest.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. It's as if they haven't invented suspicion on this planet! But his attention was quickly drawn to the story Applejack told. Sounds like Rarity's up to something dangerous... or maybe it's just some illicit tryst or something else as dull, and she's simply as bad at keeping things under wraps as anyone else in this town.

“Don't worry, Applejack!” Pinkie Pie said. “I'll help you get to the bottom of this! I won't fail a friend! Not again!”

“When did you—what exactly did I miss?”

Rain had been scheduled for the following day, so clouds obscured the stars as the sun went down. There was no moon to obscure; it was a new moon that night. The houses of Ponyville provided decent enough light at the town center, but outside of it a pony could hardly see ten feet ahead of their own face. You couldn't ask for a better night to be stealthy, the Doctor thought, as he tailed Pinkie Pie and Applejack. And yet....

He'd never considered himself a master of stealth, in humanoid form or as a pony; the bright colors and flashy suits he'd worn so often made the idea laughable. Additionally, he'd heard Pinkie suggest the plan to follow Rarity into the Everfree Forest without her—or anyone more malevolent—noticing, and had heard Applejack agree; surely this implied that they knew how to move unseen.

But even by his low standards, they were terrible. It wasn't just the bright colors of their coats—which, to their credit, they'd covered with black catsuits; Applejack had even draped black cloth over her hat. It wasn't just that they spoke to each other in what they seemed to think were hushed voices, which he could hear from yards away.

It was the ostentation. Pinkie Pie seemed to be making a game of ducking suddenly behind bushes, darting from cover to cover, and stopping to look around suspiciously. Applejack, who seemed to have no experience in stealth, mostly followed her lead, with the occasional annoyed grunt here or there.

Meanwhile, the Doctor trotted twenty feet behind the two of them, keeping quiet and looking for all the world—if anyone in the world could see him—like he was on a casual nighttime stroll. Not remotely suspicious. Just walk on in like you own the place, that's the secret.

“We're here,” he heard Pinkie whisper, as they—and he—approached Carousel Boutique.

“I know, Pinkie! Stop talking!” Applejack said. The Doctor smiled to himself. Rather defeats the point of keeping quiet if you have to order it out loud. Unlike them, he kept a safe distance away from Rarity's house, so that while no one would be able to observe him, he could observe the building at leisure.

For several minutes, however, there was very little to observe. The lights at the boutique kept glowing, Rarity diligently kept sewing, and Pinkie Pie and Applejack kept talking.

“What do you think it is?” he heard Pinkie ask.

“Dunno. That's what we're here to find out, isn't it?” Applejack replied, in a voice that wasn't much quieter. If this keeps up, I'm going to have to start giving lessons.

“But what do you think? I think it's aaaaaaaliens.”

Applejack paused. “Crazy Everfree Forest stuff, more like. Granny's always warnin' us to be careful about planting too close to the forest... says it's not natural—”

“Ssh!” Pinkie hissed.

Applejack snorted. “You're shushing me? Really?”

“Ssh! Someone's coming!” The two of them backed away from the house, and the Doctor backed away from them, for a cloaked, hooded figure was indeed coming into the light. He—or she, or it, or any number of possible pronouns—walked up to the door, lifted a front leg, and knocked.

The silhouette of Rarity stopped sewing. A few seconds later, she walked to the door and opened it. “Just a moment, dear; I've got something I really have to finish. I won't be a minute!” She smiled and closed the door. The figure took a few steps back and sat down.

The Doctor began tallying. Okay, so like most intelligent life on this planet, it's quadrupedal. And feels the need to disguise itself—and yet Rarity recognizes it anyway. And there's no coercion going on—no obvious coercion, he corrected himself, then frowned; the tallies weren't adding up as quickly as he'd like.

True to her word, Rarity emerged from Carousel Boutique about thirty seconds later. “I do apologize,” she said to the figure as they walked away from the building. Pinkie and Applejack followed them, and the Doctor followed after. “But I really had a doozy of a deadline to deal with, and it would have been... dishonorable, you might say, to shirk it.” She chuckled—well, that seemed the wrong word for Rarity; perhaps she laughed daintily. The Doctor's frown dug in. Why is Rarity so at ease with this stranger? Oh, please don't let this be just a tryst.

But this mystery would have to wait, for a greater one presented itself—the mystery of how, despite everything, Pinkie and Applejack still escaped detection. The Doctor supposed that the figure's hood might have been obstructing its ears, and Rarity seemed blissfully unaware of anything but her conversation with that figure, but even so... he winced at every broken twig and every muttered word.

The situation only got more embarrassing once all parties entered the Everfree Forest, where there were more twigs to break, more roots to tangle the hooves, and more trees to block what meager light there had been. The figure had produced a torch to light its and Rarity's way, and they stepped nimbly over and around the mess of roots. Pinkie and Applejack, on the other hand, were stumbling and falling into trees left and right.

“Not so loud!” he heard Applejack mutter after one particularly bad fall from Pinkie. “We don't want them to hear us!” The Doctor sighed internally and rubbed under one eye with a hoof.

Such embarrassments continued for something like twenty minutes, and the Doctor was beginning to think that he should go home and cut his losses—but then he noticed that the light through the trees seemed to be getting brighter. He looked up and saw that the trees above him had been sheared off at their tops. Then, as he kept walking, at their middles. Before long there were hardly any trees around him, only stumps.

What is this? He looked back behind him and saw the plane formed by the broken tops of trees. It's almost like... like something massive fell from the sky. “No way,” he breathed.

He looked forward again and saw Rarity and the figure in a clearing, surrounded by the wreckage of trees and utterly unaware of either Pinkie or Applejack behind them, or the Doctor behind them. To be fair, what was in front of them was much more eye-catching: a monumental wall of metal that extended several dozen meters to his right, and further than he could see to his left. He could see the outline of a door several feet up on the structure, many small dents near its bottom, and—unless he was very much mistaken—scorch marks on the forest floor below.

“Oh, this is brilliant!” The last word, somewhat to his regret, came out as a yell. Pinkie and Applejack turned around and noticed him; Rarity and the figure turned around and noticed all of them. Even by my not-at-all-a-master of stealth standards, that was bad. He beamed at the group in front of him, trying to keep up the illusion that he belonged there.

“What in the—” Applejack began.

“Who you?” yelled the figure, lifting a hoof from under its cloak. “No move!” The Doctor had time to register that the hoof was sheathed in some sort of machinery, before a bolt of light fired out of that machinery and over the Doctor's head. That was a warning shot, he realized, looking behind him to see a new scorch mark on a tree trunk. A warning shot from a laser!

The sudden movement had shifted the figure's cloak, and the hood fell away, revealing the creature's head. It reminded the Doctor of a bull from Earth, with a crucial difference; this 'bull' had four brown horns, two on each side that curved out and forward. She wore a bright blue ringlet on her upper right horn and an expression that looked apprehensive on her granite-blue face. Her head was tilted slightly downward, as if she were getting ready to gore the lot of them.

This was Christmas, Mardi Gras, and the Golden Jubilee all at once. The Doctor wasn't even grinning; his mouth was open in an expression somewhere between astonishment and complete joy.

“You mean don't move, Qeta, but please stop!” Rarity rushed forward and pushed the raised hoof, and its weapon, to the ground. “These are my friends!”

“Friends?” Qeta's accent was rough. Well, how could it not be?

“What in—” Applejack began again, pointing at Qeta's extra horns. “What in blazes are those? Rarity, we thought you were—who is this, where are we, what is that—” she pointed at the metal wall “—why the heck is he here—” she pointed back at the Doctor “—and what in Sam's unholiest of Hills is going on?”

“I'll tell you what's going on!” the Doctor exclaimed. “First contact!”

“First what?”

“They're aliens! Don't you see?” He laughed and pointed at the metal 'wall'. “That's their spaceship, this is the landing zone, and that bull is a visitor from another planet! Oh, I can just take the year off now, because this is history being made in the biggest way!”

He gradually became aware that everyone in the clearing was staring at him in bewilderment—that was, everyone except Pinkie, who shrugged and said, “Well, duh—of course they're aliens! But what's Rarity doing here?” She gasped. “Is she a bull too?” She grabbed Rarity's cheeks and pulled, as if expecting to reveal horns hiding behind them. “How long have you been a bull, Rarity?”

“Not quite.” Rarity tried to smile, but the stretching of her cheeks made this a difficult facial maneuver. “Please let go.”

Pinkie did.

“Thank you.” The smile came back on, much more easily this time. “Qeta, this is Pinkie Pie, Applejack, and the Doctor. And all of you, this is Qeta, a Betauran.” Qeta lifted her head as her name was spoken; perhaps it was a gesture akin to a nod.

“As for what is going on, I've been helping these Betaurans with some lessons in the Equestrian language. Enough to get around, you know, and properly introduce themselves to our planet at large. They've made it clear that they wish to do so on their own terms—which, I'm afraid, has been properly scuttled now that you've all shown up, so congratulations there.” She gave Applejack a sarcastic smile.

“Well, excuse me for cuttin' your fancy lessons short!” Applejack started pulling off her bodysuit with sudden, angry movements. “You had me worried sick about you, wanderin' out of the Everfree Forest in the dead of night—I didn't know what to think! You could have at least said somethin' last night!”

“Well....” Rarity's smile turned into something more like a grimace. “I promised, didn't I?”

Applejack's eyes narrowed. “Rarity, we're your friends. You can't tell us, but you can keep secrets for a bunch of bulls you can barely talk to?”

“A little something called the benefit of the doubt, darling. And really, doesn't everypony... or perhaps every Betauran,” she amended, smiling at Qeta, “deserve to make their own best first impression?”

Qeta imitated the smile. “Much to teach you. It be... will be very good for ponies.” The Doctor hadn't heard such broken English in years—or broken Equestrian, as the case might be. Well, there's an easy way to fix that. He reached into his pocket.

“But—” Applejack protested.

“Whereas you've made your first impression by sneaking around like common burglars!” Rarity narrowed her eyes. “After I've put so much work into diplomacy! And what are you doing now?” she asked, as the Doctor stepped forward with the lump of coral he'd tested earlier that day. Well, this will be a true test of the system.

As he raised the translation circuit in front of Qeta's face, she stepped back and lifted her gun-hoof off the ground. It wasn't quite pointed at him, but even so she was more nervous then he wanted her to be. “Tell her it's nothing to be afraid of,” he told Rarity.

“Um... uqad jaleka, Qeta,” Rarity managed, as the Doctor grabbed his sonic screwdriver, held it in his mouth, pointed it at the circuit, and activated it. If I can get the right psychic resonance... The lines on the circuit started pulsing through the whole color spectrum.

“Jaleka, Rarity? Deqad—trust him?” Qeta asked. “I'm not sure we should.”

The Doctor dropped the screwdriver back in his pocket before grinning. “Speak for yourself, Qeta.”

Her eyes widened; her leg slackened and returned to the forest floor. “That was... you just spoke in perfect Betan. What is that thing?”

“No, he's... er, he's speaking Equestrian,” Rarity said. “And as a matter of fact, so are you, and rather well at that.... Just what did you do?” she asked the Doctor.

“Ooh!” Pinkie yelled. The Doctor looked up to see her standing on top of the spaceship. “You took the translation-majig and set it to go between their language and our language! So they hear us speak their language and we hear them speak our language, and vice versa!” She scratched her chin with a hoof, pouting. “Or did I cover the vice versa already?”

“Exactly! Also, how did you get up there?”

Pinkie shrugged. “Running start.”

“Sure.” The Doctor twirled the translation circuit on one end on his hoof, then replaced it in his pocket. “Anyway, I'd say this speeds up the 'first impression' process by quite a lot. Wouldn't you say so, Rarity?”

“Well, I suppose so, but—” Rarity began.

“Oh, Archdukes, this is easier,” Qeta interrupted. Now that she had the ability to speak in her own native language, her words flowed much more quickly. “It is so nice not to have to speak that crazy language! All those stupid starts and stops—no offense,” she added, looking at Rarity. Rarity frowned in response.

“Oh, right! Sorry about the warning shot, but I couldn't really tell you to stop moving when I could barely talk to you—thank you so much for fixing that!” She beckoned them toward her with a hoof, then walked to the spaceship. “So come on in, everyone! You have so much to see, so much to do....” She jumped up and banged on the door outline. “Macrin! You'd better come see this!”

A few seconds later, the door receded into the ship's metal wall, then slid to one side and out of sight, revealing a slightly taller Betauran. His face was longer and bluer than Qeta's, and showed what could only be irritation. “It's Lieutenant, Comm Officer, not Macrin, not while we're on duty—” He looked up from his scolding to see the assembled group. “Don't move!” he yelled, raising his hoof, which bore the same sort of weapon as Qeta had. “Get on the ground and don't move!” He jabbed downward with his other hoof.

“Shut up, Macrin, they're friendly!” Qeta jumped up to the door and pushed Macrin's weapon-hoof down, as Rarity had done to her. “Everyone, this is Macrin, the lieutenant of our mission. He acts mean, but don't worry; he's a big softie at heart.”

“A warrior of the Archdukes is not a softie,” he muttered. “And you speak as if these horses can understand us.”

“Oh, we can!” The Doctor grinned, and Macrin looked at him with a wide-eyed expression that probably meant surprise; he wasn't quite sure. Well, even with the circuit, I suppose there's still the body language barrier. The Doctor gave him a little wave and hoped it would be interpreted correctly. “Hello, I'm the Doctor, this is Applejack, that's Pinkie Pie on top of your ship, you probably know Rarity, and by the way, apparently it's a bit rude to call them horses—they prefer 'ponies'.”

“This one's the reason we can finally understand each other,” Qeta said, pointing at the Doctor. “And I was about to invite him and his friends on board, to repay our debt!”

“Absolutely not,” Macrin said, glaring at the group. “All of you, except for Rarity—leave, and do not speak of what you saw.”

Qeta tapped her horns against his, perhaps coquettishly; the Doctor wasn't really sure about this either. “Oh, come on! We've got the language barrier figured out—there's no need to be a secret anymore, Mac!”

“There was a plan, Qeta,” Macrin growled. “We'd take it slower this time, not jump in like a bunch of falling spears and get shattered! Taking a tutor was justifiable, but this—”

“Come on, Macrin, let them take a look.” The corners of Qeta's mouth pulled straight back toward her horns, which the Doctor supposed was analogous to smiling. “For me?”

After a few more seconds of hesitation, Macrin knocked one of his horns against the door frame—apparently a gesture of frustration—then turned to the group. “Fine. Welcome aboard the Duchy, noble Equestrians. Let us speak, and understand each other.” He pushed a button within the ship, and a length of steel walkway reeled out of a slot beneath the door, the end of which fell to the ground to form a ramp. The Doctor was first up, with Rarity not far behind. Pinkie Pie swung down from the roof and through the door, and finally—with some hesitation—Applejack climbed aboard.

As soon as the Doctor made it inside the door, his grin grew even wider. “Oh, marvelous,” he said. “Just absolutely—and I've been saving this one up—molto bene!”

“It's a big gray hallway, Doctor,” Applejack said as she entered, her eyebrow raised.

“Well... yes... but that's the thing! Big, gray metal hallway, completely unfurnished save for a few doors on the sides—and there's a lieutenant, a mission from their rulers, efforts at learning the language... you don't see it?”

Applejack shook her head.

“Come on, it's obvious—this is an early, relatively unsophisticated spaceship, big enough for interstellar travel—no? Really?” The Doctor didn't feel at all put out that he got to explain it. “They're explorers, on their planet's first interplanetary mission! Boldly going where no one has gone before! Honestly, they're heroes.”

“Oh, you're so sweet,” Qeta said.

“Yeah, some heroes,” Applejack muttered.

“Well, come on, everyone!” Qeta beamed, gesturing deeper into the ship with her head. “You've got to meet the Captain, and the Engineer, and the Pilot, and the Doctor—well, our Doctor, not you Doctor, though frankly you have a terrible name when it comes to ambiguity—no offense.” The Doctor shrugged to indicate that none was taken, then wondered if that translated. Oh, it's been ages since I've gotten to wonder about that sort of thing. He beamed again.

“So what are you waiting for? Let's get moving!” Qeta stepped into the corridor proper and plowed forward. The Doctor followed her, still smiling, until—

Bang. Bang bang.

He stopped and looked back at the door, from behind which the sound had come.

Bang bang bang.

“Oh, for the justice of—who else just found us?” Macrin walked toward the door, but Applejack stepped in front of it. “What are you doing, small horse?”

“The Everfree Forest has some of the most dangerous plants and animals you can reckon. If you think your little flashlight can take some of the stuff out there, you've got another thing coming.”

“Out of my way!” Macrin pushed past Applejack and pressed a button beside the door. “I am a warrior of Gaius, and I will decide to whom the thing comes.” The door opened, and he aimed his weapon out at—nothing at all. “Show yourself!” he yelled, panning from side to side to cover the whole clearing.

The Doctor could see nothing, just Bon Bon standing in the clearing. There was no one at all. Wait a second. He forced himself to think very hard about what he was looking at. It's just Bon Bon—no one at all... wait.... “Bon Bon!” he managed. “Where did you get a perception filter?”

“Oh! Still wearing it.” She lifted the length of cord up over her head. “So that's why you guys didn't hear me when I told you to wait up. That was moronic.”

“Don't move!” Macrin pointed his eyes—and gun—right at her. “How did you do that?”

“Don't move! I have a light cannon and I'm too stupid not to use it!” Bon Bon replied, imitating his voice. Macrin recoiled slightly. “Relax, you lummox, I'm with them. Sort of.”

“You followed us?” the Doctor asked.

“I followed you following them—” she pointed at Pinkie and Applejack “—following them.” Her hoof moved to point at Rarity and Qeta. “So you're really one to talk, aren't you.”

“And when did I say you were allowed to steal a perception filter?” He raised a hoof and shook it at her, hoping it might convey some measure of his exasperation. “Apart from any ethical concerns, I'm not made of perception filters, Bon Bon.”

“Oh, well... I figured you wouldn't notice.” She flashed a grin. The Doctor did not.

“How did she—” Macrin began, turning to the Doctor.

“If you mean the voice thing, well....” He shrugged. “She does that. As for the quote-unquote invisibility, that would be a perception filter—makes it so that you just don't care that you see something, or notice something, it's just somebody else's problem. And would you please put that down?” He shoved Macrin's weapon to the floor again. “She's a friend of mine... more or less.”

“Rude!” Bon Bon exclaimed.

“Pot, kettle, etcetera! I know I explained that turn of phrase to you.” The Doctor sighed and pressed the button beneath the door-opener, releasing the entry ramp. “Just come on board. You've got so much to see, and you're gonna love it.”

Bon Bon smiled at the Doctor as she entered the spaceship, then looked down the long corridor. The walls were covered in a shiny silver metal which reflected the lights placed along the ceiling. It was smooth and sleek and new. “Now this is a spaceship,” she whispered to the Doctor, careful to keep her voice down; Macrin was bringing up the rear of their party, and somehow she wasn't sure how well he'd react to any surprises about the Doctor—such as the fact that he had a spaceship of his own. “I bet none of the bathrooms in here are time sensitive.”

“Blimey, you know how to hold a grudge. That was once. And anyway, the TARDIS is miles better than this... ratmaze,” he continued, as they turned a corner into another long metal corridor. “What is it with aliens and identical hallways?” he muttered. “It's like they're trying to get lost.”

“It's still better than your thing. You've got a coral reef crammed inside a horseshoe box. This is how you're supposed to do it.” She smirked.

“Oi! That's my pride and joy you're talking about!”

“Oi!” she mimicked. The Doctor rolled his eyes. Bon Bon chuckled a bit and trotted ahead, leaving the Doctor to stew in ship envy. Oh, I like this. I like this a lot.

“Excuse me?” Qeta asked as Bon Bon drew near.

“What?”

“What did that Doctor's phrase mean? The one he said to you, involving a pot and a kettle?”

Bon Bon raised an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

“I'm the Communications Officer. It's my calling to understand your strange and different customs.”

“It's his custom, not ours—and don't talk to me about callings.” Bon Bon grunted. “The whole phrase is 'like the pot calling the kettle black'.”

“And?”

Bon Bon paused for a few moments, to try to figure out what Qeta wasn't understanding. “The thing is that both of them are black, so the pot's a hypocrite.”

“Ah!” Qeta did her almost-smile again. “So what the Doctor was saying is that you should not have called him rude, when you yourself are rude.”

“... yes.”

“Good point.”

Bon Bon shot her a glare. Either the expression didn't translate, or it did and Qeta didn't care; she still looked happy to have figured something out.

Applejack, walking behind them, laughed. “Maybe I'm warming up to you Betaurans after all.”

Feeling rather chilly herself, Bon Bon let herself fall back to the middle of the group. Well, I don't have to care about Qeta. What a relief.

“Help me!” Abruptly, Pinkie Pie's face was in front of her own.

Bon Bon jumped back. “What?” she blurted.

“I-need-someone-to-discuss-the-philosophical-ramifications-of-an-entire-planet-of-new-friends-with-or-I-think-I'm-gonna-explode!”

“Try the Doctor. I really can't care about it one way or the other.”

“What?” Pinkie Pie leaped into the air, mouth wide with astonishment. “How do you not—”

“Can not, not do not,” Bon Bon corrected.

“Whatever—how can you not care? We could learn so much from them, they could learn so much from us—I bet they've come up with new kinds of fun our pony brains can't even comprehend!”

“Is that all you care about? New kinds of fun?” Bon Bon tried to swerve to one side, but Pinkie—facing her and walking backwards—copied the movement. Bon Bon sighed. “Has anyone ever told you about your one track mind?”

“Are you kidding? More like new kinds of everything!” Pinkie beamed. “New foods, new sports, new games, new holidays, new parties—”

“Knew we'd get to parties,” Bon Bon muttered.

“What can I say? I've got a fever, and the only cure is more parties!”

Bon Bon gritted her teeth and thrust a hoof over her shoulder. “The Doctor. Talk with him, now. Not with me.”

“Okay!” Her smile undiminished, Pinkie Pie bounced over Bon Bon's head and landed next to the Doctor. “So how excited are you about a new planet?” Bon Bon heard her say.

“Oh, like you wouldn't believe,” he replied.

Bon Bon groaned and trotted to the very back of the group, where Macrin was eyeing the rest suspiciously. “Are you going to try to talk to me?” she asked.

“No,” he replied, not looking at her.

“Thanks.”

There was a door at the end of the corridor: a door that looked just like the one that had let them in. Qeta, still at the front of the group, pressed the button beside the door; it slid open, revealing another identical door, but backwards, as if they were entering the ship again.

“Oh...” the Doctor breathed. “Dare I say it—separate compartments? Modular design?”

“Beg your pardon?” Rarity asked.

“This isn't just one spaceship, it's several docked together! And you've just started starflight! Oh, you Betaurans must be a clever bunch.” He grinned at Qeta, who tried to imitate the gesture; it didn't quite work, and looked more threatening than anything. “No, no, you've got to curl your lips up at the ends... is there any reason this is taking so long?” he interjected, rapping the second door.

Qeta pressed the button a few more times. “Sorry, our systems are kind of on the fritz right now. Just a minor thing, nothing major.”

“Well, let's see if we can speed this problem up.” The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, aimed it triumphantly at the door, and pressed the button. At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly but surely, nothing continued to happen. “This usually works,” he said, sounding a bit put out.

Bon Bon couldn't resist. “That the first time you've said that to a girl, Doctor?”

The Doctor turned around and raised his eyebrows at her. Bizarrely, so did Pinkie Pie. “I don't get it,” she said.

The door opened, with a male Betauran behind it; apparently, he'd pressed the button on his side. He was slightly shorter than Qeta, sporting a bluish-brown coat and a black vest with a silver insignia on the front. Qeta's grin, which she'd managed to make pretty convincing, vanished; she was stone-faced and official. “Captain Adelbrand, sir. I've got an unexpected and wonderful report to make.”

“Captain Adelbrand, sir!” Macrin, who had been in the back of the group with Bon Bon, ran forward to stand next to Qeta. “I strongly object to the admittance of these equines on board our ship!” So much for being official, Bon Bon thought.

Captain Adelbrand raised his eyebrows—the first completely analogous gesture Bon Bon had seen. “That's us, by the way,” the Doctor said with a little wave. “The, er, 'equines'. Should I introduce everyone again, or are we going to be meeting more of you? Because that would make it a bit repetitive and, you know, pointless.”

“You will meet no more of us if I can help it!” Macrin took a deep breath, then began talking very fast. “Sir, these four—” he gestured at the Doctor, Bon Bon, Pinkie Pie, and Applejack “—followed the Communications Officer and her tutor without our knowledge, and upon discovery, this one—” he pointed at the Doctor “—used some technological trickery to allow us to understand each others' languages. Now, Officer Qeta maintains that this is sufficient cause to abandon our veil of secrecy—”

“Of course it is!” Qeta interjected. “We were only ever gonna wait until we learned the language, anyway, right?”

“—but I disagree. Considering our....” Macrin leaned in close to Adelbrand and whispered the next few words, so that Bon Bon couldn't quite hear what he was saying. “... it seems to me that we should not meet with the Equestrians until we can meet them from a position of strength.”

The Doctor raised a hoof and waved it again. “I'd just like to point out,” he said, “that none of us actually brought any weapons. Or places to put them. Right?” He cast a questioning look at the bunch of them. Bon Bon, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie nodded their heads, but Applejack lifted her hat and revealed a lasso tucked beneath it.

“See?” Macrin pointed at the lasso, his eyes wide. “A weapon! They came here to attack us! They—”

“Lieutenant!” The Captain's bark of a word shut Macrin up. “If that is the only 'weapon' they have, then we are in a position of strength.” He looked at the gun on Macrin's hoof, still pointing at Applejack's rope. “I'm afraid I don't see the danger.”

“But—but they—”

“Mac?” Qeta tapped her horns against Macrin's. “You're having an episode again. Deep breaths; you'll be fine.”

Macrin did as he was told, and within a few seconds his demeanor had calmed considerably. “Thank you,” he said to Qeta, before turning to Adelbrand. “But as your lieutenant, sir, I still strongly advise that they be removed from our ship before they see anything more.”

Adelbrand stood still for a few moments, before stepping aside from the doorway. “All of you, welcome aboard the Duchy. My name is Captain Adelbrand, and it is an honor to meet you.”

Honor again, Bon Bon thought, as the group trotted through the door. Someone has a word of the day calendar here, and honor is the word—every day.

“You'd better make the announcement,” Adelbrand told Qeta as she trotted through in front of Bon Bon. “I'm sure everyone's going to want to meet the new arrivals.” Qeta beamed, and sprinted off down a corridor. Macrin did something that looked like a grimace as she went.

While all the Betaurans were occupied, Bon Bon sidled up to the Doctor. “Did you hear what he said, before?”

“What who said?”

“Macrin, when he was whispering. Did you pick it up with your super-hearing?”

“I don't have 'super-hearing'; I just have pretty good hearing... and yes.” The Doctor frowned. “All he said was 'current predicament', as in, 'Considering our current predicament, it seems to me...' and so on.” He rolled his eyes. “He'd have been better off just saying it, not making such an obvious secret out of it. Does no one know how to be stealthy around here?”

Bon Bon frowned too. “Any ideas on what that predicament might be?”

He shrugged. “A few. But they're our hosts, Bon Bon—we shouldn't be suspicious of them.”

“They have things on their hooves that can blow us up, and the crazy guy who doesn't seem to like us is still wearing his. I'm not being suspicious, I'm being sane,” she hissed.

“Oh, how to put this....” The Doctor raised his eyebrows, his face screwed up with thought. “As Rarity said, benefit of the doubt! That's how first contact is supposed to work—never seems to, but you've always got to try. We all need to work together to make the first meeting between our two races as stellar—so to speak—as it ought to be.”

Bon Bon rolled her eyes. “You're such an optimist.”

“Whenever possible.” The Doctor smiled.

“Ur nod taleko noko?”

“Whoa!” the Doctor said, pulling up short—for a wall had opened up in front of him, and a large, metallic, bull-like object had stepped out to block his path. Like the Betaurans, it had four horns, but not four around one head. Instead, it had two heads, one at each end, and sprouting from each head were two long, articulated horns. There was a small speaker grill underneath the head closest to Bon Bon, and—she assumed—under the other one as well.

“Ur nod taleko noko?” it repeated.

“You're a robot!” the Doctor exclaimed. “Brilliant! You lot already have robots!” Grinning, he gesticulated at Adelbrand. “And voice interface, probably! Very well done!”

“Dek noda kot.”

“A... what?” Applejack asked. “And what's he saying?”

“A robot—a metal automaton, usually subservient, always a pleasure! Sometimes.” The Doctor frowned. “Depends on the robot, and personally... do these come in dog, by any chance?” he asked, tapping the robot's horn.

“Dek noda kot.”

“And we can't understand it, because....” Applejack raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Oh, right....” The Doctor frowned. “That is awkward, yeah....” He pulled the translation circuit and sonic screwdriver from his pocket, pointed both at the robot, and triggered the sonic. A few seconds later, he replaced both in his pocket and tapped the robot's horn again. “Can you hear me now?”

“Dek noda kot.”

“Of course not.” He sighed. “Translation circuit only works on organic matter, and this is about as far from organic as it gets. Shame. What's he saying?” he asked Captain Adelbrand.

“The Bullbot asked if he could take your coat—the first time, at any rate,” Adelbrand said. “The other times, he was saying 'Do not understand'.”

“Oh, kant trok, dear!” Rarity stepped forward, pulled her scarf off, and draped it over one of the Bullbot's horns. “Girls?” she said to Pinkie Pie and Applejack, “If you'd like to just take off your catsuits?”

As the two of them placed their suits on top of the scarf, a thought occurred to Bon Bon. “Where'd that cow go, anyway?” The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her, and she elaborated. “Cow—female bull. Where'd... what's her name... where'd Qeta go?”

“To make an announcement, I believe?” the Doctor said.

He was swiftly proven correct: a second later, a loud voice sounded out from invisible speakers.

As far as Ermi was concerned at the moment, there were two uncomfortable things in this or any world: the feeling of a metal plate digging into one's back, and the lack of hot water in her room for over a week. There might have been others, but as she peered up at the pipes in the Duchy's innards, lying on her back in the space that had been created by the removal of a wall panel, she couldn't think of any of them.

“Attention to all crew!” said Qeta's voice over the intercom. Ermi pulled herself out through the hole where the ship's panel had been: this could be important.

“Believe it or not, we have new arrivals on board, from the planet! And for once, we can actually talk to them—don't ask how, it's complicated—so everyone, drop what you're doing and welcome our guests! Message finished!”

False alarm. Ermi pulled herself back through the hole, adding 'meeting new people' to her short list of uncomfortable things. She bit down on a flashlight attached to her horn. It lit up, allowing her to finally see a cracked pipe, well above her own head. That must be why I haven't had any hot water on Duchy-2 since we got here... but where'd the leaked water go?

“Sealant,” she called out to the two Bullbots who were helping her. Within a second, an articulated horn curled its way in, the sealant disk balanced perfectly on its tip. She grabbed it and, with some difficulty, pressed it around the crack in the pipe; it stuck there like a bandage. Note to self: Check on this in an hour. By then it should have fixed the pipe, and I'll be able to—

“Hey, Ermi!” She found herself being pulled at by her back hooves, and was dragged out of the opening to see Lorio's face. Not only was it beaming, but it was a pale blue color, and not the red of recently-punched skin; in other words, there were two things wrong with it.

“That was painful,” she said, glaring at him. It was true: the edge where the panel had been had dragged across her back.

Lorio's horns—smaller than hers, but with yellow highlights and glowing ridges at each quadrant—pulsed blue, and a square patch popped out of his lab coat's pocket and onto her front. “Painkiller, if you need it. Do you need something for your ears too?”

Ermi brushed the painkiller off of herself and made to duck back into the ship's innards, but Lorio stopped her with a hoof on her shoulder. “Didn't you hear the announcement? Qeta said it's new life! And it can communicate! Think of what we could learn!”

“I'm fine where I am, in fact. Hooves off.”

Lorio frowned, but removed his hooves. “All right, but you're missing out. You're not gonna get any conversation from these.” He tapped the tops of the Bullbots.

“Exactly. I get enough conversation from you already.”

“No, you don't.” He started walking away, still talking as he went. “I'm getting Luso now—and I swear, he's coming even if he doesn't want to. It's good for him, and it'd be good for you.”

“Do that. And Lorio!” He looked back at her: she lowered her head to look at him. “Remember, no dissections even if one of them dies. Some cultures don't like that.”

“And it's the damnedest thing. They're not useful anymore, right? Well, see you later!” With a swish of his lab overcoat, he was out the door. Beautiful solitude.

She twisted over onto her front and reinserted herself into the hole. If water leaked out, and if the artificial gravity hasn't done anything bizarre, then the water should have pooled... there! Light from her flashlight was reflecting off of something she could barely see, beneath a mass of wires—but it was there. That's a priority. No telling what'll happen to the electrics if this stays put—no telling what's happened already, in fact.

“Vacuum!” she called out to the Bullbots. Within a second, nothing happened. She frowned. “I said vacuum. Can you hear me?”

“Do not understand.”

Ermi twisted herself out of the hole. “What do you mean, you don't understand? Vacuum.”

“Do—do not understand.” The Bullbots' horns hung limply at their sides, and the legs were stock-straight. Ermi's mouth opened slightly in concern.

“Is something wrong with my kids?” she asked, leaning down to the robots' eye level—or rather, what would be their eye level if they had eyes. “Don't worry,” she said, patting one on the head. “Ermi's going to make you all better.”

“Do not understand.”

“Ssh.” Ermi pressed her hoof to one of its leg joints. All the systems have been messed up since we got here, but I never expected to see anything wrong with the kids. Maybe there's something wrong with the mechanicals instead of the logic system—

The Bullbot's hoof whipped up and struck her on the forehead. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath—but one of the Bullbot's horns coiled into her mouth, keeping her from screaming for help even if she'd been able to. “What are you doing?” she tried to say, but all that made it past the horn in her mouth was a muffled gurgle.

She felt her body being lifted up by several more horns and dropped on the back of one of the Bullbots. “Help!” she tried to yell, with less success than before.

“Do not understand.”

She was being moved out of the room and deeper into the ship—where, she had no idea. Why? she thought, almost choking on the metal in her mouth, frantically trying to look down at the Bullbot—to tell it, by some sound or gesture, to stop. I don't understand.