//------------------------------//
// The Advent of Betaurus (c) 
// Story: The Majestic Tale (of a Mad-Pony in a Box) 
// by R5h 
//------------------------------//


We again return to The Advent of Betaurus.






“Toro! Toro!” Pinkie Pie had pulled a mustache and a red cape from some hidey hole; she was wearing the former, and waving the latter in front of the Bullbot. “Betauro! Uh, arriba?” She yelped and jumped back as one of the Bullbot's horns swung at her, slicing through her hair. Her efforts hadn't stalled its advance toward Rarity by even the smallest amount.

Of course it didn't work, Applejack thought, ducking under another one of the Bullbot's swinging horns and aiming yet another kick at its head. The Bullbot rocked slightly, but continued to spasm its way closer to Rarity.

“I'm out of ideas!” Pinkie yelled, dashing back to Applejack's side. “How's the kicking it in the face going?”

“Not—that—great—oof!” In Applejack's moment of distraction, a horn had come in under her guard and struck her right in the front. She staggered back a few steps. “Rarity!” she yelled. “Use your magic!”

“I can't!” Rarity wailed, cramming herself further into her corner. There weren't many yards left between her and the machine.

Applejack rounded on the Doctor, who had been pointing his metal wand at the Bullbot. “Do something!” she screamed. “You're the techno-wiz, so stop this thing before it kills her!”

“I'm trying!” His teeth bared, the Doctor slammed a hoof on the wand several times. “No, no, it's too well shielded—I can't break through!”

“What do you mean, you can't break through—oh, nevermind!” Applejack turned back around and charged at the Bullbot. She ducked slightly under a horn, then thrust her rear hoof out with the kind of kick that broke apple trees instead of bucking them. She gritted her teeth as it connected with the Bullbot, which didn't seem to respond. Rarity shrieked.

A slight metallic whine came from behind her. “Oh,” said the Doctor. “Oh, yes! That's it! Kick it again, Applejack!”

“That's what I've BEEN doing!” she roared, half-hopping away on her better leg as she prepared for another kick. “And it hasn't made a lick of difference!” She gulped, then sent her leg at the Bullbot's head again. Again, there was plenty of reaction from her leg and none at all from the machine; however, the whine behind her grew louder.

“I'm getting a lock!” the Doctor yelled. Applejack looked back to see him with a crazed smile—or snarl—on his face, and the wand in his hoof; it was buzzing and lighting up at odd intervals. “I can't break the shielding, but you can! Come on, one more good kick!”

Applejack took a deep breath, then charged screaming at the Bullbot. She slid as a horn stabbed toward her, pivoted on her front hooves, then lifted her rear leg and thrust it out like a piston into the Bullbot's back head. It was enough to send the Bullbot forward several more feet, until it was little more than a few inches from smashing Rarity to pieces.

“Gotcha!” the Doctor yelled, as the whine of his metal wand became earsplitting. With an overhead flourish he pointed it at the Bullbot, which instantly stopped. No more movement, no more flailing: it tottered on two hooves with its horns in odd contortions, one of them no more than a foot from Rarity's head.

A few seconds later, Rarity's eyes and mouth were still wide open, and her barrel heaved as she took in deep breath after deep breath—when the Bullbot finally lost its balance and fell toward her. She shrieked—

“Come with me if you want to live!” Pinkie, still wearing her mustache, darted in behind the Bullbot and—with a speed Applejack could hardly even process—pulled Rarity out from under the collapsing hunk of metal. Less than a second later, it had left a dent in the floor, but Pinkie and Rarity were both by Applejack's side. “Hey, look! You came with me, and you lived! Arriba!” Pinkie exclaimed, jumping so sharply that she collided with the ceiling. “Ow.”

“Molto bene!” the Doctor said, clapping Applejack and Pinkie Pie on the back before pocketing his metal wand. “Good work, team!”

Rarity didn't seem to notice Pinkie's outburst; she huddled against the wall, shivering as if freezing. Her eyes seemed to be looking not so much at the floor as at some empty space beyond.

“Rarity?” Applejack asked, crouching down beside her. “You're gonna be okay. You know that, right?” She did not speak. “Rarity?”

After a long few seconds, she looked up at Applejack. “I'm just... just so useless.” Tears flowed down her face, carrying black mascara onto her cheeks. Applejack sighed, then got a front leg under Rarity and pulled her up to her hooves. She didn't resist the motion.

As her legs straightened with many a painful jolt, Applejack noticed that the Betaurans were gathered at the other end of the hallway, staring at her. They musta watched the whole thing, those gutless cowards. Her mouth curled into a snarl.

“What were you...” Lorio began, before stopping for a moment with his mouth slightly open. He tried again: “Why did you all help her?” Macrin, Qeta, and Adelbrand stood beside and behind him, all wearing similarly baffled expressions.

Applejack's mouth fell open too. “Why did we—of course we helped her! Why in tarnation wouldn't we help her?”

“But... it was her fight,” Qeta said.

“Her fight—and this is my spaceship!” Applejack bucked into a wall for emphasis, leaving a small dent. “What in Tartarus is wrong with you bunch of psychopaths?”

“But it was single combat—”

“All right, all right, would everyone please just ssh!” The Doctor placed himself between the Betaurans and Equestrians, lifting one hoof in front of Applejack's mouth and another in front of Qeta's. “We can cope with the culture shock later. For now, Applejack and Pinkie, get Rarity back into the main room, make sure she's all right. And you'd all better come too,” he said, waving his hoof at the Betaurans. “We need to clear the air.”

“Come on, Rarity,” Pinkie said, covering Rarity's back with the red cape. Rarity nodded to her, then returned to simply taking deep breaths as Applejack led her back to the main space.

As she crossed the threshold into the room, Applejack saw Bon Bon leaning against a wall to the right of the door. “Oh, you saved her. Nice one.” She could have been describing the grayness of the walls for all the emotion in her voice.

Applejack's eyes narrowed. “So what, are you an alien too? Or do you just not care that Rarity nearly bit it?” As she said this, she let Rarity go; Pinkie Pie helped her down to the wooden floor and patted her back.

“Can't.” Bon Bon put a strong emphasis on the last consonant. “And I did say nice one.”

Applejack gritted her teeth and turned away. By this point, the four Betaurans, the four Equestrians, and the Doctor had all re-entered the room. The latter had gotten into a chair, and—oddly enough—had both rear legs propped up on the adjacent table. After a few seconds of this, he grimaced and jumped down. “That looked more comfortable in my head. Now, about that air clearing.”

“Of course!” Qeta said. “Er, what does 'clear the air' mean? There's no dangerous particulates, or suppressing fire, or—”

“First of all!” The Doctor rubbed his front hooves together. “Compliments to your ship mechanic. That might have been one of the sturdiest-built robots I've ever seen, and trust me, I've got a wide field to choose from.”

“Um, thanks?” Qeta's mouth was slightly open again. “I'll be sure to tell Ermi—”

“But,” the Doctor continued, “with that in mind, does what just happened make any sense? A robot that well crafted, and it simply goes berserk? And in that exact, near-fatal way? The chances have to be staggeringly low, I'd think—not that I've done the math. Yet. We're pressed for time.”

“I know, I know.” Qeta sighed and turned her head away. “I don't know what could have caused this, I really don't. The Bullbots have been a little weird since we landed, but nothing like—”

“Crashed.”

If the Doctor had pulled a gun from under his suit, he wouldn't have gotten more attention. The four Betaurans in the room immediately refocused their stares on him. “What did you say?” Qeta said.

“You didn't land here. You crashed.”

Macrin started forward. “How did you know—”

“Two whole planets to sample from, and not one person here knows how to keep a secret.” The Doctor sighed with a roll of his eyes, then raised one hoof. “Let's see. The landing—non-vertical, and not particularly well controlled, judging by the shearing job on those trees outside.” He shook his hoof once. “And your systems on the blink, particularly the doors between ship modules—more tenuous connections, they'd be the first to malfunction in the event of a violent landing. Which they have.”

“But—”

“And I couldn't help but notice you've been keeping us to the port and aft of the vessel, where the damage to your ship wouldn't be as obvious.” He shook his hoof once more, then cast a withering look at the four Betaurans. “Really, all it took was two good eyes and one good brain, and... well, if I do say so myself....” He cracked an ironic smile, one that didn't break his glare.

“Uh, thanks,” Applejack muttered. It all added up now, of course. How hush-hush they were trying to keep things; how angry Macrin had been—or had he been scared?—about Qeta bringing newcomers aboard the ship.

“Then why didn't you—” Adelbrand began.

“Oh, don't be obvious! Because I could see you wanted to keep it secret, and there was no reason to bleat it about!” The Doctor's eyes narrowed, and his next words were in a quieter, more dire tone. “And then, very suddenly, someone nearly died. And just as suddenly, any possible justification you could have had for keeping that secret—vanished. So you're going to tell me everything you know, everything you suspect, about what's going on, because something is very very wrong with your ship, and it's cruising at five thousand feet.” With each sentence, he had advanced upon Adelbrand; now the two of them were face to face.

“Doctor,” Adelbrand said, narrowing his eyes. “Step away from me.”

The two of them glowered at each other for a few seconds in silence; then, the Doctor stepped backward. “Start talking.”

Adelbrand closed his eyes and composed himself. “We were in orbit around your planet and beginning to descend when something happened. According to Pilot Luso, the engine control failed, and we had to make an emergency landing in this forest. Your kind may have mistaken our descent for a meteor.”

Applejack noticed Macrin's jaw clenching, and saw him take a step toward his captain. Qeta raised a leg to block his progress, and though he glared at her momentarily he made no further attempts forward.

“I suppose we did,” the Doctor said, scratching his neck. “That's embarrassing in my case... I really should have seen that coming—it's never 'ooh, just a meteor'... nevermind. Were all members of your crew accounted for at the time of the crash?”

Now it was Adelbrand who stepped forward. “Doctor, if you're implying that a member of my crew was responsible for this crash—”

“It was probably Luso,” Bon Bon said.

Adelbrand looked up at Bon Bon, who didn't seem at all cowed by his glare. She shrugged, and continued, “I mean, who'd be better at crashing a ship than the pilot? Oh, and he's kind of a racist. Like, a huge racist. Actually, why do you have a racist on your cultural sensitivity expedition? Isn't that exactly the kind of humongous prick you'd want to weed out?”

“Bon Bon?” the Doctor said, wearing a wide grimace. “Critical diplomatic situation? Less of the colorful imagery?”

“Even if the bull in question wants to, oh, I dunno... blow up the moon?” Applejack asked, smirking. Near as she could tell, it was all adding up now.

“It wasn't Luso.”





The Doctor turned around to look at the source of this new voice. It was a newcomer—another Betauran, walking through the doorway—and she looked like hell. Long scratches raked down her sides, blood and mud mixed on her purple coat, and she walked with a limp. A heavy rope was tied to one of her horns; its other end was attached to a cart, upon which sat the limbless remains of a Bullbot. Doing a quick bit of remembering, the Doctor supposed she had to be Ermi, the elusive engineer.

“Ermi!” Lorio yelled, confirming the Doctor's suspicion. “What happened to you? And what in Sial's name is that thing behind you?”

Ermi ignored this and kept walking until she'd reached Qeta. “Why in the name of competence are we in the air?” she said.

“Um... hi, Ermi,” Qeta said with a slight grimace. “Wow, you look like....”

“I look like I'm extremely unamused with our current altitude.” Ermi pulled her horn out of the rope's loop; it fell to the floor with a loud thump. “And you're going to start explaining it to me.”

“Ermi, you really need to get those cuts looked at, and I don't even know why you're asking me—”

“You're the only one foolhardy enough to think that it could be a good idea. Stop wasting time and tell me why we're flying.” If Ermi was affected by the scratches down her back or her limp, it didn't show; her attention was solely focused on Qeta.

“Well, we're going to meet the rulers of this planet, and... well, I thought that since you'd pretty much fixed the biggest problems since the, uh, crash....”

“There are holes in the main bridge that a Betauran could fall through. Fixed? Do you actually look at the world, or do you just assume it matches the fantasy playing out in your head?”

By now, one of Qeta's lips was pulled back in an ashamed half-smile. “Uh... sorry, I guess I screwed up.” She laughed half-heartedly. “I'll do a better job next time, I swear.”

“Sounds familiar,” Ermi replied, wearing no smile of any sort.

“Ermi,” Adelbrand said. He stepped in and led her away from Qeta. “Tell me what happened to you, and why it wasn't Luso who sabotaged the ship. Lorio!” he called. Immediately, Lorio was beside her. “Do your duty.”

She turned to face him, then winced slightly as some weight accidentally transferred to her injured front right leg. “Sir, I was doing maintenance work on Duchy-2 when two of the Bullbots attacked me.”

“And?”

“I need to repair two of our Bullbots. That's one,” she said, pointing her injured hoof at the Bullbot on the cart behind her. “But I found evidence of genuine sabotage in the ship's wiring. Luso wasn't lying about the loss of control—” She exhaled sharply as her scratches and leg lit up with Lorio's magic, and several lines of red-tinged dirt pulled away from her body to fall on the floor. Her wounds kept glowing, becoming smaller and smaller until new skin covered them entirely. At the same time, her leg twisted slightly, returning it to its original alignment.

“You're welcome!” Lorio said cheerfully.

“—and more to the point, that same bull sabotaged my—our Bullbots,” she continued, not acknowledging him. Lorio's smile wilted, and he stepped back. “Or rather, gave them some very rude instructions. Would you like to hear who it was?”

Without waiting for an answer, she walked to the Bullbot, and flicked a switch on its top. A few seconds later, she said, “Bullbot, play back previous command number six.”

“Understood,” said a calm mechanical voice. Then came a different voice—one more organic, more manic. “Ermi's figuring things out, and as much as I respect her as a crew mate, she can't be allowed to discover the sabotage. I want you to kill her inconspicuously. Do you understan—”

The Bullbot exploded. The Doctor shut his eyes and reflexively raised a hoof just in time for an unidentifiable piece of metal to strike his foreleg. A few seconds later, when he felt he could open his eyes again, he turned around to see what had caused the explosion.

Macrin had taken several steps away from the others, and the light cannon on his hoof was pointed at the cart where the Bullbot had lain. Beside the Doctor, Applejack started forward, but Macrin pointed the cannon at her. “All of you, step away from me now,” he said, and though his voice was layered with calm, it was unmistakably the same one that had just issued from the Bullbot's speakers.

Ermi snorted. “You know what's funny, you paranoid fleshsack? If you hadn't sent them to kill me, I wouldn't have discovered the sabotage for weeks.”

A bolt of light struck the floor just in front of Ermi's hooves. “I said step back, Engineer.” Macrin took another step backward of his own. “Don't make me ask again. I'd like to accomplish our mission with a minimum of casualties.”

“Macrin,” Qeta said, stepping forward, “you're having an episode. You're not thinking clearly. Just drop the cannon, and we'll work this out.” She gulped as Macrin's hoof pointed at her, but did not step back.

“I assure you, Comm Officer, my mind is perfectly clear at the moment,” he replied. The Doctor took a closer look at him, and saw none of the tics that had accompanied his previous episode. Unless he's hiding them, like he's been hiding this sabotage.

“What in the—what are you talking about, Macrin?” Adelbrand exclaimed. “Lieutenant, as your commanding officer, I order you to stand down.”

“Why? So you can continue to pervert our mission? So that we can continue the farce of 'learning' from these spineless aliens?” he yelled. “I crashed our ship here so that we could spend some time in isolation. So that we could rediscover our true culture, our true mission across the stars! And then Qeta found this translator, and look at her!”

He pointed his cannon at Rarity, who gasped and flinched away. “My Bullbot attacked her, and what was her first instinct? To cower! I'm sorry, Captain, but this behavior is no longer tolerable, and someone must take a stand. Take your hoof out of your pocket, Doctor!” he yelled, pointing the cannon at him.

The Doctor's eyebrow lifted, and he raised his hoof from his pocket, where it had been inches from his sonic screwdriver. Usually, that maneuver went unnoticed. “Have to admit, you really got me there,” he said, letting sarcasm drip from his voice. “But you know what really surprises me? You, doing this now, after your ship's visited countless other cultures. Is Equestria really the most degenerate of all, or has your little mind finally given out from the culture shock?”

“Doctor, don't,” said Bon Bon behind him, but he could hardly hear; there was blood pounding in his ears. He stepped forward.

“I've been playing at optimism for two months, but the truth is that there will always be someone like you, Lieutenant. Someone who's so sure he knows best, who's so ready to force their truth on the world. And you know what?” he said, as Macrin lifted the cannon to face him. “You're always the one with the gun, because your beliefs are so strong, so correct, that you need violence to back them up.

“Well, fine!” he yelled, pressing his chest right against Macrin's hoof. “Fire away, because what will that prove? NOTHING! You'll still be the same sad bull who's scared of the world leaving him behind!”

They locked eyes, their faces inches from each other. The Doctor vaguely noticed that the four horns on Macrin's head were very sharp, adding up to five ways to kill him—then filed this under the 'Interesting Trivia' section of his memory.

Several seconds passed. Though Macrin's eyes darted around the room, keeping track of every occupant, he did not fire. The whole room remained still.

“Or,” the Doctor said, his tone lower now, “you can drop the gun, and step into the light with us. We're waiting for you.”

A few seconds later, Macrin narrowed his eyes, and lowered his gun—to the Doctor's knee. He fired.

Odd, the Doctor thought, even as his body jumped back. As his other leg grabbed the wound, it broke in two, leaving his lower right foreleg on the floor. There ought to be some feeling. He stared dumbly at Macrin and mouthed, “You shot me!” unable to quite believe it. No one ever actually shot him, after all.

Oh, hang on. Here it is. He clamped his jaw down to force back a scream and tried to avoid looking at his leg on the floor. Bon Bon grabbed him and propped him up as he took short, seething breaths. His stump pressed painfully into the other leg; his muscles became steel cords from the strain. Control the pain. Control the horror. It's not the most important thing right now. He forced his head up, forced his blurry gaze to refocus on Macrin, who was several steps away.

“Macrin, you've lost your mind!” Adelbrand yelled, raising a hoof in front of the Doctor. “As your superior officer, I'm ordering you to stop!” Control, the Doctor thought, noting the fury in Macrin's face as if through a telescope.

“If I'm wrong, then prove it! Stop me yourself, sir!” Macrin stared right at his captain, hoof gun raised. Adelbrand stared back, but did not move forward.

Macrin looked away and sighed. “I knew it.” He pulled a walkie-talkie from a pouch at his side. “Luso,” he said into the device, “it's time.”

“Understood, sir!” came Luso's voice over the walkie-talkie. Seconds later, his voice rang out more powerfully over the ship's intercom: “Bullbot override code! Beta Upsilon Kappa!”

The Doctor noticed Lorio's features stiffen at his brother's voice. That's good. Keep noticing the other details, the small details. Anything to keep the eyes off it. Within moments, however, a big detail was distracting the Doctor: three Bullbots stood at the door behind Macrin. The sounds of metal on wood behind him told the Doctor that a similar group had entered through the other door.

“Bullbots!” Macrin yelled. “Allow no one but me to leave this room.” He backed toward the Bullbots behind him, his gun still trained on the group. “They respond to me and me alone now. If you value your own safety, don't try to fight your way through. And that is what you value, isn't it?”

“Macrin, please!” Adelbrand, probably, said. “I'm asking you as a friend—please stop! We can talk about this!” The Doctor began to sag.

“I'm sorry, Captain, but the time for discussion is long since past. If you follow me, I'll have no choice but to retaliate.” Macrin was amid the Bullbots now, only a few steps from disappearing into the darkness of the corridor. “Before, I asked you whether we would choose to learn from these races or to instruct them. I leave you to consider your answer, but as for me—I choose to instruct.” With that, he turned around and was gone.

For a few seconds, no one spoke. Then, Rarity broke the silence. “I may vomit.”

“Please don't,” Pinkie said, holding her with a horrified expression on her face. “I don't know how to get vomit stains out of the cape you're wearing.”

“Oh no,” Adelbrand said.

“What?” the Doctor asked, trying to stand—he stumbled and almost fell on his side before Bon Bon caught him.

“You idiot!” she hissed into his ear. “Do you have a deathwish?”

“Uh?” he grunted. He could do better than that—it wasn't even the first time he'd lost part of a limb. “No, not really?” Okay, not... not that much better.

“Yes you do! You walked in front of a gun and dared the owner to shoot you—that's definitional!” She whacked him on the head. “Don't have a deathwish! It's stupid!” The blow seemed to readjust the telescope through which he was seeing the world; everything became much sharper, if still distant.

“That actually helped a lot, thanks,” he said, letting her help him stand and jamming his stump into his other armpit—legpit, rather. “Adelbrand, what is it?”

“Macrin believes that conflict is the best teacher.” Adelbrand pressed a hoof against his forehead. “He means to bomb your planet—to start a war!”

“Are you—didn't I say there was no good reason to have bombs on this ship?” Applejack yelled at Lorio. “And now look what's happened! That maniac and your fool brother—”

“Not now,” Lorio said, magically pushing her away. “We can resume this fascinating conversation later, but I have a patient.” He kneeled to look at the piece of the Doctor's leg on the floor—don't look at it, the Doctor reminded himself, focusing on trying to slow his breathing down—then turned to face the Doctor. “Let me see,” he said, gently enveloping the Doctor's stump in magic and pulling it away from his torso. He winced as the wound was exposed.

Lorio sighed. “I have magic that can heal the wound, but it can only speed up what your body would do naturally. That bolt destroyed too much of your leg—I can't reattach it. I'm sorry.”

“Hang on,” the Doctor said. “Only what the....” He took a breath before finishing. “... the body does naturally?”

“I'm afraid so.”

“And just at a guess... bigger wound, more energy required for the magic?” His eyes darted around the room, looking for places where wires might easily be accessed. A light above him caught his attention, which had a cheap plexiglass-looking cover over it but seemed otherwise reachable.

“Yes,” Lorio said. “I've got enough energy in me to grow new skin over this one—it's just lucky that the bolt cauterized it as it went—”

“Not a chance—you don't have enough energy for what my body's gonna do naturally.” He heaved a breath in. “Bon Bon... right coat pocket... sonic screwdriver. Setting one hundred forty five... probably. And I think I may be sagging again... please smack me.”

She pulled it from the pocket and twisted it around until it was at the proper setting, then casually conked him on the head once more. “Ooh, thanks,” he said. Better than caffeine. “Now, someone....” He jerked his head up at the ceiling. “Tear out a wire from that light. Faster would be better.”

“Excuse me?” Ermi said, but before she could protest much more Applejack jumped into action. She kicked off the light's protective cover, then grabbed her lasso in her mouth and swung it around the light itself. With one hard yank it broke, leaving a dark patch and two dangling wires above the Doctor. “What are you doing to my ship?” Ermi said.

“Giving your medic an extra boost,” the Doctor panted. “Bon Bon, click the sonic on and it'll quite possibly convert the electrical power of the ship to magic power that Lorio can use.”

“And why would I need a boost?” Lorio asked.

The Doctor forced a grin. “Just use your healing spell, and watch me go.”

Lorio seemed doubtful, but his horns lit up all the same, just as Bon Bon activated the sonic screwdriver. The other lights in the room sputtered and dimmed, but a new light grew from the Doctor's stump—a golden light, emitted by thousands of tiny tendrils growing from the broken skin. They flattened out into a rough cylinder, with one end not far from the end of the wound—twisting and flattening until they were no longer individual tendrils, but one whole golden leg. As the light began to die away, hair sprouted from the sides, and a hoof emerged from the end.

The Doctor lifted it experimentally, then tapped it a few times against the ground. Good as new. Which it in fact is. He smiled, noticing that the expression was reciprocated on few of the faces around him. Ermi's eyebrows were raised, while Adelbrand, Qeta, and Lorio stood in slack-jawed shock. Rarity was somewhere between astonished and relieved; Pinkie just seemed happy that the threat of vomit had passed. “Thank you very much,” he said, grinning even wider at Lorio.

“You're... welcome.”

“Nice one,” Bon Bon said, poking the new leg a few times. “So that's a Time Lord thing?”

“Yeah. We're a bit like worms,” he replied, poking her leg back. “Given proper stimulation, anyway. Aren't I something?”

“Well... goodness.” Rarity seemed to be having difficulty hitching her jaw into the upright and locked position. “I knew you were an alien, but... you've rarely been so graphic around it.”

“He's an alien?” Adelbrand sputtered. “But... what are you?”

“Just think of me as a special case.” The Doctor made a short sigh of irritation. “Look, it's a long story and you wouldn't believe most of it anyway, and it doesn't matter right now. We need to stop Macrin's war.” He stepped forward. “If we can get some sharp strike to break those Bullbots' shielding, I can use my screwdriver to disable them in one fell swoop. Applejack, and whoever else has a strong kicking leg, get over to that wall—we can collapse the ceiling on them before they realize what we're—”

“No,” Adelbrand said.

“No?”

“I don't care what you are, Doctor—I am the captain on this ship, and I decide our strategy!” Adelbrand's volume grew as he spoke, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as the Doctor. “Ermi, Qeta, Lorio, get in attack formation—standard procedure. We'll break through them ourselves.”

The Doctor laid a hoof on Adelbrand's shoulder. “You saw how much a challenge one Bullbot was for us. Attacking directly is suicide, even three on four. I'm not trying to leave you without a leg to stand on here, but—”

“Don't insult me, Doctor!” Adelbrand jerked his leg away, dislodging the Doctor's hoof. “This is our fight, and we will finish it! On my mark!” In the corner of the Doctor's eye, he saw Lorio and Ermi grimacing and bending their knees.

“Um, guys—” Qeta said.

“No, no no no no, wait.” The Doctor put himself in front of Adelbrand, waving frantically at Lorio and Ermi to just hold on a second. “We are going to find another way to do this, or you are going to get your crew killed. You've lost a third of your crew already, Captain—do you really want to lose any more?”

“Guys!”

“We are not Equestrians, Doctor! You cannot fight them, but we are warriors of the earth and the sky! And we will—”

“SHUT UP!”

The blast of sound blew the Doctor's hair to his left and made him wince. Adelbrand did much the same before turning to look at the source: Qeta, holding a megaphone. “I MEAN THAT RESPECTFULLY, SIR!” she added, inadvertently still speaking into the megaphone. Adelbrand had to take a step back. “Uh, sorry,” she said, flipping the megaphone off before giving it to Pinkie Pie, who stashed it back in her tail. “But there's a better way to do this—we don't need to fight them at all.”

“That being?” the Doctor asked, pushing the question of why Pinkie had a megaphone to the back of his mind.

“Macrin said that we couldn't order the Bullbots around, because they only respond to his voice now. But what if we had his voice?”

“I don't understand,” Adelbrand said, but the Doctor did. His smile grew exponentially.

“Or what if we had someone who could mimic his voice exactly—brilliant! Now that's a reason for optimism! Bon Bon, get over here!” She shrugged, and stifled a yawn.

“Oh, land's sakes!” Applejack yelled. “Get over here, you lollygagger! And you too, Rarity! We need you to tell Bon Bon what to say.”

“Oh, er, of course.” Rarity took a deep breath, then stood and walked over to Bon Bon, who had not yet moved. “Repeat after me: Tix ki halanak. It should mean 'Let us pass.'”

“Tix ki halanak,” Bon Bon said. Then, she turned to the Bullbots guarding the front exit and yelled it in Macrin's harsh bark: “Tix ki halanak!”

Simultaneously, the Bullbots stepped to the side, leaving the hallway unobstructed.

“There, see?” The Doctor clapped Adelbrand on the back. “Let's fix this!”

The nine of them ran past the Bullbots and into the darkened corridor.





This might be embarrassing, Qeta thought as she ran. She didn't mind Captain Adelbrand and Ermi taking the lead; they'd always been in better shape than her—but then the Doctor ran past her. And then Applejack. And Pinkie Pie. I must have really gotten lazy in the last few months.

Come on, girl, she thought, you can do better than this. Remember how they trained you. Her drill instructor had told her how to motivate herself for a run: to think of what she was running to.

A face immediately came to mind, longish and handsome. It was Macrin, with her hooves on his face as he breathed deeply and calmed down after one of his episodes. A few seconds later, he opened his eyes and gave her one of his smiles.

Qeta redoubled her speed and soon drew level with Captain Adelbrand. “Come on!” she said as they ran side by side. “We're almost to the end of this module!”

Three Bullbots stepped out of a branching corridor ahead of them, blocking their path. They charged.

“Tix ki hala—” Bon Bon's mimicry of Macrin's voice was cut short by a loud gasp. Qeta glanced backward to see three more Bullbots behind them; one had surged forward and struck Bon Bon, winding her. Looking back forward, Qeta saw the three Bullbots ahead of them levitating with Lorio's magic. He gritted his teeth as they struggled in midair.

“Get the outer armor off!” the Doctor shouted behind her. “I can disable them from there!” Applejack threw her lasso, tying two of the Bullbots' swinging horns together. Pinkie Pie blasted forward like a bullet, bodyslamming the third.

“Barely... managing... this,” Lorio replied. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his head. The Bullbots levitated further, high enough off the floor for a bull to fit underneath.

“Rarity!” the Doctor yelled. “We need another magic user!”

High enough to fit underneath.... It wasn't a hard decision. Qeta dashed forward and ducked down at the last moment, sliding under the Bullbots' kicking hooves.

“Qeta!” Captain Adelbrand shouted. “What are you doing?”

“Someone has to stop Macrin!” She turned forward. “He'll listen to me.”

“Qeta, don't!” he said, but she was already moving. Of course he'll listen. He always does. She ran as fast as she ever had; after all, someone had to save them all from Macrin's madness.

The sounds of the battle echoed down the metal corridors as she kept moving, remembering the way to the next portion of the ship. However, different noises were getting louder as she approached the joiner—a rip one second, a clang a few seconds later. Judging by the direction, they'd have to be coming from... the module's bridge! She slowed to a halt only meters from the module-to-module passageway and pressed a button on a wall to her right.

A door slid open, revealing Duchy-2's bridge—one which was currently useless, as the module was not at the ship's front. The bridge's large frontal window showed nothing but the back of Duchy-3, an uninteresting gray slab. What was interesting in the room was Macrin, lying on his back under the ship's controls and methodically ripping wires out. More sabotage, apparently. Several Bullbots stood in the corner of the room, but they gave no indication of noticing her. Perhaps he hadn't told them to attack anyone.

As she watched, he pulled himself out and stood, apparently unaware of her presence. No doubt he'd finished here; the time to act was now, before he moved again. She stepped forward and laid a hoof on his shoulder. “Macrin, you need to stop.”

Smoothly, with practiced ease, he turned around and thrust his horn into her chest.

A small, involuntary volume of air left her mouth, not quite a gasp. Her head sagged, low enough to see that he'd broken through her ribcage and pierced her heart. But he couldn't have.

“Macrin,” she pleaded with a voice she could not hear. “It's me.”

There was a snarl on his face, but with these words it transformed; he looked up and his mouth opened slightly. “You weren't supposed to....” Slowly, he pulled his horn from her. Quickly, she collapsed. Her hoof slipped from his shoulder.

There was blood in her lungs, and there couldn't be. She needed to say so much. She needed to breathe. He needs to breathe. He just needs to breathe, like we practiced. In…

Someone shouted, maybe. The blinds were closing on her.

… and out. You're doing great, Macrin, just stay with me.

“Do you actually look at the world, or do you just assume it matches the fantasy playing out in your head?”

In... stay with me, Macrin. Please.

“Uh... sorry, I guess I screwed up. I'll do a better job next time, I swear.”

… and out.





They were just in time to see her hit the floor.

“No!” Adelbrand yelled.

The sound alerted Macrin to their presence: he whirled around, blood flying from his horn and an enraged snarl on his lips, and lifted his light cannon. The Doctor pulled Adelbrand out of the doorway just as two spheres of light flew through and impacted on the corridor's wall.

“Macrin, what have you done?” Adelbrand shouted, pinned to the ground by the Doctor.

“I said not to follow!” More bolts of light struck the wall behind the door. “You did this, Captain, not me!”

“Let me go,” Adelbrand hissed, struggling with all his might under the Doctor. In his face was the same rage the Doctor had seen in Macrin's; it was all he could do to keep the captain from escaping.

“He'll kill you,” the Doctor said.

“I'll kill him!”

“Bullbots!” Macrin yelled from beyond the door. “Do not let them leave this module! This order cannot be countermanded! And you—come with me!”

The salvo of light bolts stopped a second later. Bon Bon, who was next to the door, poked her head briefly into the opening. “He just left with one of them,” she said. “The others are still in the big room, next to Qeta.”

The Doctor let Adelbrand up then, and the whole group streamed into the room. The Doctor knelt immediately by Qeta, but one look told the story; her heart had been exposed and pierced, and it did not move. “I'm sorry,” he breathed, closing her eyes. Then he stood up and ran after Macrin, leaving Lorio to kneel in his stead.

“Macrin, I am going to gut you!” Adelbrand roared, running straight at Macrin—but the corridor was narrow, and a Bullbot stood in the way. Its horns pushed Adelbrand back no matter how he tried to approach.

Macrin turned back to face him, standing just behind a line in the floor that marked the juncture between the two modules of the ship. “Never forget, sir—this was you. You brought this judgment on yourselves.” Keeping eye contact, he pushed a button on the hallway's wall. The door in front of him slid closed.

“Macrin! Macrin!” Adelbrand fought as hard as he could, but the Bullbot simply pushed him away with its back two horns. With its front two, it opened a small hatch on the wall, revealing a red button, and pressed it. The Doctor felt the ship shudder.

“Oh, justice... he can't have.” The Doctor looked around to see Ermi behind him, a look of grim realization on her face. “He's detached this module of the ship. And he's sabotaged the controls. There's nothing but air resistance to stop us from falling now.”

Feeling disoriented, the Doctor stepped back into the bridge. Bon Bon was standing in the corner, her expression unreadable. Pinkie Pie was crying silently on the floor, and Rarity had a hoof around her. Applejack was half-standing, looking at the corpse on the floor with a slack jaw. Lorio knelt beside it, one hoof rested on her side. And Qeta was still.

Then he felt the lurch in his stomach, and turned his head to the bridge's window; the ship wall in front of it was slowly sliding upward. They were falling.






To be continued in:


War of the Worlds