//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 - Second Contact // Story: Falling Stars // by Rokas //------------------------------// DropShip Heart of Steel Low Orbit, Unknown planet (Terra Analog) September 15th, AD 3070 “Dear, if you ever propose a burn over one gravity again, I may just have to kill you.” James McKenna wryly chuckled at his wife's threat. “Now Rebecca, I know your maiden name isn't 'Kerensky'.” “No, but I do pilot a Warhammer and I know where you sleep,” the female McKenna replied with an impish smile. “And I'm sure I could bribe Ivan with a homemade pie to conveniently move your bed outside while you're sleeping.” “Such convoluted and devious thoughts in that head of yours,” James snarked, as he led the two down the narrow corridors of the Union-class ship. After a week of weighing one and a half times than what humans were made for, the relief of microgravity was a luxury that they both relished as they floated towards the Steel's bridge. “I knew there was a reason why I married you. Aside from your insanely good looks, of course.” “Oh, of course,” Rebecca smirked, even though her husband had turned around to guide himself around a corner. Still, she let the expression color her voice as she continued. “That and the fact my family owned that Warhammer I mentioned.” “Now that is uncouth, uncalled for, and completely exaggerated,” James replied as he stopped before a sealed hatch and turned back to face his wife. “The Warhammer was just a signing bonus for the marriage contract, that's all.” Rebecca grabbed a nearby handhold and used it to brace her body so she could deliver a light kick to James' midsection. “You are a terrible human being with almost no redeeming qualities.” “And you love me for it,” James replied after coughing a bit. “Though dear, in all seriousness, if you keep doing that as I get older you're going to break a rib.” “Good,” Rebecca countered, taking on a superior air. “Maybe then you'll realize you're too old to run around getting shot at and we can retire for real.” James had to suppress a sigh at that, as though he knew his wife was joking he could hear the undertones of iron determination and frustration. They had argued in the past about retiring from the business of war, but for his part James felt that he couldn't give it up just yet. There's going to be another argument sometime in the future, I know, the man with the graying hair thought as he turned back around and punched his personal code into the hatch leading to the ship's bridge. But leave that for later. You should fight only one hopeless battle at a time. The hatch unsealed itself with a mild tone as the code took, and James quickly braced himself against the bulkheads so he could slide the metal door out of the way. It was supposed to open itself, but that particular mechanism had broken before his father was born, and every owner of the dropship since then had deemed it too unimportant to replace. Even James found better things to spend money on, and he doubted the original manufacturer of the door's motor hadn't gone up in a radioactive fireball during the Succession Wars, anyway. Such thoughts left his head then as James finished opening the hatch and slipped through, followed by his wife. The bridge, he noted, was quieter than normal, and alarms sounded in his head when he saw Mei Nguyen turn and give him a worried look. “Okay, what's exploded now?” He asked, half joking. The lack of any response to his mirth startled James, and he frowned as the captain he'd hired to command the dropship waved to the bridge's navigation plots. “Well, we're here, but there's a problem. Again.” “Mei, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” James asked, and then sighed. “What's the issue?” “Come look at the map we're compiling,” Nguyen said and then gently pushed herself through the air towards the console she indicated earlier. James and Rebecca shared a look, but both turned and followed the captain, waving quiet greetings to the other bridge crew on the way. “Why are you compiling a map?” James asked once they reached the navigation station. “I'd have thought that every ship in known space has a map of Terra just out of tradition.” “I have no idea if that's true of every ship, but we do because you're a history nut,” Mei said, allowing herself a brief smirk of amusement, though it died quickly enough. “So imagine our surprise when we see this,” she said, and then waved to a map being displayed on the console's primary MFD. Both James and Rebecca craned their necks and examined the indicated map, though it only took a few seconds for them to realize the problem. “That doesn't look right,” James said, feeling a vague sense of unease. “That doesn't look right at all.” “Are you sure there's not a problem with the computers?” Rebecca asked, looking over at Nguyen. The ship's captain shook her head gently and then reached out and pressed a control. Instantly the portions of the map that had been completed were replaced by a collage of visual images. “We're using photography and radar returns to create the maps, Rebecca. You can see that the computers are dead on. It's Terra that seems to have the problem.” “Where are the cities?” James asked, finally pegging the source of his mental discomfort. “Terra has twelve billion souls on it, there should be urban areas stretching for thousands of square kilometers. The arcologies alone should be visible from space with the naked eye.” “Jim, if I knew that I'd tell you, but I have no idea,” Nguyen said. “Nothing here adds up right. All the star charts say we are where we're supposed to be, the primary has the right spectral lines, we've found every planet of note, even dwarf planets like Ceres and Pluto, but this...” She shook her head again. “I feel like we've stepped through the looking glass.” James blinked at that, and he turned his gaze upward, away from the console and out through the ring of reinforced ferroglass windows that circled the entirety of the bridge. The strange world filled a massive arc of the sky, and he let his eyes trace over cloud formations while his mind churned. “What if you're right, Mei?” James asked. “What if we did step through the looking glass?” “And escape into wonderland?” Rebecca asked, sounding skeptical. “Maybe,” James said, returning his gaze back to the two women he floated by. “Or somewhere else. Somewhen else.” “Please don't tell me you're one of those types who thinks they can use a jump drive to time travel?” Nguyen asked in frustration. “Mei, you know how wonky time gets around K-F fields,” James countered. “That's how Kearny and Fuchida discovered the things in the first place.” “Maybe so, but many have tried and failed to work out any meaningful math to support the idea,” Nguyen protested. “Besides, I told you the star charts matched up, which they wouldn't do so well if we moved an appreciable distance through time. Even accepting the possibility – which for the record I don't - the positions we see mean we couldn't be more than a century off.” “Not nearly enough time to have this sort of change,” James agreed with a nod. “But tell me, did you ever read a rather infamous 20th century philosopher/author called Robert Heinlein?” “Jim, please,” Rebecca interjected as she knew where her husband was heading. “Pantheistic Solipsism was just a story idea he used to justify going meta on his own characters.” “Maybe so,” James conceded. “But maybe not. Not everything of his survived until today. But that's beside my point.” “Which is?” Nguyen asked, her tone and expression showing that she was completely lost. James took a moment to think before he replied. “What if the universe is actually a multiverse? An infinite procession of various realities where history, and even physics turned out different? And more importantly, what if those universes are created and altered by people in other universes; their authors?” Nguyen just stared at the mercenary mechwarrior for a few moments before she sighed. “Rebecca, you really need to cut down on his alcohol intake.” “I haven't touched a drop since we lifted off from Bluford,” James protested. “Caffeine, then,” Nguyen crossly added. “Because it sounds like you're suggesting that there are not only multiple realities, but that those realities are in fact under the control of otherwise powerless authors and writers. Frankly, that doesn't make sense.” “The universe doesn't make sense, Mei,” James insisted. “Only to you, dear,” Rebecca said, reaching to pat a hand on her husband's arm so he understood she was only joking about his unique views, not sniping at him. “But I have to admit, the idea of a different universe, whatever its origin, sounds pretty good right now,” she added and then waved to the navigation console, which was constantly updating the map as the ship orbited. “It would explain this mystery.” Nguyen rolled her eyes, but otherwise remained silent, as she had nothing to counter that. Finally, though she turned and looked over the navigation console and shrugged. “All I know is that this world is not nearly as heavily industrialized as any long-settled world should be. There seem to be road networks, but most of them are unpaved. Nor have we seen any rail-” The captain abruptly stopped speaking as a new picture was laid out, and she blushed slightly. “Well, that teaches me to open my big mouth.” Both McKennas returned their attention to the photographic map, and Rebecca was the first to notice the new area. “Railroads, paved highways, decently sized cities. It looks like an oasis of civilization.” “Bar one spot,” James growled, surprising both women. Then he pointed at a particular point, and his sudden mood shift became clear as they saw one of the cities emitting clouds of smoke. “Any guesses on where O'Connell landed and what he's doing?” “That slime-sucking spawn of an Amaris,” Rebecca spat out. “I can't believe he crossed that line.” “I can,” James said. “Because if what I supposed is true, then this isn't quite our Terra, and O'Connell saw that when he landed. So he doesn't have to worry about the Inner Sphere condemning him because they aren't here to see him go bandit king.” “If what you supposed is true I'll eat my hat,” Nguyen interjected. Then she shook her head again and sighed. “But if it is and I don't choke on the fabric, what can we do?” “What we're good at,” James replied. He said nothing more as he punched in a command to the console and brought up the data the Heart of Steel's radar returns. “Looks like O'Connell hasn't deployed anything outside that city yet. Not permanently anyway. Mei, shape orbit and land over here,” he added, pointing to a forest just west of a town some distance away from the burning city. “It's time we got out and stretched our legs.” Royal Palace Canterlot, Equestria September 15th 1023 RC The form on the bed breathed arduously, as if straining against its own weight. Princess Luna felt her own chest ache as if she herself had been stabbed, just as it did every time she looked in on her sister. Celestia, why did thou have to run out so foalishly? The midnight blue alicorn thought mournfully as she watched unicorn nurses work to change the bandages that covered almost every inch of the her sister's body. The sight was disturbing, even after a week of seeing it done twice a day, but Luna kept herself from flinching at the horrible wreck her sister had become. Only the nature of thy magic hast kept you alive, and heals thee yet. But how long must thy rest so? How long will thou remain unconscious and dead to the world while Equestria suffers? Luna waited until the procedure was almost over before she finally turned and silently trod from her sister's bedchamber. The past week had not been easy, and her difficulties only mounted as time went on. The invaders had taken most of Manehattan, and though general Stonewall continued to try and find ways to interfere with them, his militia hadn't really stopped the great war machines. An army had been called up, of course, but it would be months before the ancient art of war could be unearthed from dusty tomes and brought back to a world that had long thought it rendered obsolete. And even then, the tactics within those old tomes were considered old before I turned against my sister, Luna thought, feeling another pang of regret and sorrow at the memory of her past transgressions. Equestria alone has advanced so far in a thousand years, and these invaders have gone further than that. Dare I send an army so equipped to face such an implacable foe? She paused in her trek and then shook her head. I would be sending them to death most assured. And for nothing, for they would be mowed down as hay without achieving victory. So deep the princess was in her reverie that she did not notice a pony approach her before a throat clearing gained her attention. Luna blinked herself back to the present and turned to see that a particular cyan pegasus had joined her. “Rainbow Dash, how fares thy wounds?” Luna asked, genuinely concerned for the pegasus who had likely saved her sister's life. For her part, Dash shrugged, and then winced as the movement jostled the bandages on her back. “They're better than they were, princess,” Rainbow said, and then turned her head so she could look at them herself. “It hurts much less, anyway,” she added, and then sucked in a bit of breath as she saw the nurses leaving Celestia's bedchamber down the hall. “Not that I'm complaining.” “I wouldst not blame thee if thy had,” Luna said evenly. “But I appreciate thy sentiment.” Rainbow Dash blushed as she turned back to the night princess. “Thanks,” she said, and then paused for a moment. “I actually came to see how, uh... well...” Luna nodded as the pegasus' voice trailed off. “My sister recovers, albeit slowly,” the alicorn said, and then turned to continue on her way while nodding for Rainbow to follow. “The advances in medicine Equestria has made astound me, yet I fear it pales in the face of the weapons our foes wield.” “Yeah,” Rainbow Dash agreed, and then snorted and stomped a hoof as she moved alongside the princess. “If only we had stuff like that, then I'd show those killers a thing or two.” Luna winced mentally at Dash's words, and she felt a wave of sadness at the loss of innocence her ponies were experiencing. “Thou should be careful in thy wishing,” the night princess said. “I once had such desires, and they bought me a thousand years of exile.” Dash blushed at the admonition, and she nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I can see that. But your majesty,” she went on, her tone becoming more insistent, “we need something. We can't fight them with the stuff we got now.” “So I hath surmised,” Luna said, and then sighed. “Unfortunately, the most learned ponies of the land are still at a loss to describe what forces were at work, save the weapon that-” Luna hesitated then as her emotions overwhelmed her a bit. “That felled my sister. Professor Möbius Strip has stated that Celestia's wounds were caused by light of tremendous power and focus the likes of which does not exist in nature. He believes it is something called “coherent light,” though for the life of me I cannot fathom what he means by that.” Luna shook her head at that. “He seemed rather excited before he ran off. I have not heard from him since, and I wonder if that is not a good thing.” Dash remained quiet as the princess spoke as she didn't understand much about how the invaders' weapons worked. As Luna went on, though, Rainbow realized that the princess was venting some of her worries, and the cyan pegasus felt a bit of relief herself knowing that she was helping out in some way. “...And thou should not even begin to ask me what to do about the army,” Luna was saying. “The only pony with any experience is Stonewall, and he has refused to leave Manehattan. Of course, I have not sent a direct order and I feel he wouldst obey such, but I do not think I have the heart to order him back when he has made it clear he wishes to remain at the front with his militia.” The alicorn took in a breath to continue, but then suddenly froze in her tracks. Rainbow Dash walked forward a few paces before she realized what had happened, and she turned to face the princess. “Luna?” She asked, having been told to be informal by the princesses in the past. “Are you okay?” “No, I fear not,” Luna replied, blinking several times as if dispelling an image. She then looked directly at Dash, and the pegasus felt somewhat intimidated as the alicorn gave a look that demanded utter obedience. “Thou must make haste to find Twilight Sparkle and return to Ponyville to rejoin thy friends that hath already gone.” “Yes ma'am,” Dash said, and she leaped into the air. She paused then, and looked down at the princess. “Uh, can I ask why?” “Thou may,” Luna replied. “Another of the invaders' ships is moving to make landfall in the Everfree Forest near Ponyville. Thou must warn the town and take measures to defend it, if possible. I will send as much of the army as I can.” Rainbow Dash felt a weight form in her chest at the idea of facing more of those terrible machines, but she nodded as her loyalty overrode her concerns. “I'll get Twilight and then we'll be gone,” she said, and then left in a rainbow-colored blur. DropShip Heart of Steel Landing Approach, Everfree Forest September 16th James McKenna sedately climbed up the rungs of the rope ladder that spilled from the back of his personal BattleMech, moving easily despite the usual rumbling and shaking that any landing caused in the belly of the 3,600 tonne DropShip. After nearly three decades in the mercenary business, however, it was almost relaxing to feel and James took some comfort in the familiarity amidst what was looked like an excursion into the unknown. Strange new worlds, unknown civilizations, wasn't there an old 2D show about that once? The mechwarrior mused as he finished climbing up the 'mech and slipped through the access door on the back of the head. He sealed it shut behind him before moving to drop into the command couch and beginning the laborious tasks that were required of a pilot who wanted to command the pinnacle of modern warfare. James had already stripped down to shorts and donned a cooling vest outside, and now he moved with practiced ease as he attached the medical monitoring sensors to his upper arms and legs and plugged them in along with his vest. Next he withdrew the old-fashioned neurohelmet and set the eight kilogram monstrosity over his head and shoulders. One of these days I'm going to get one of those new lightweight helmets, he promised himself as he made sure the device was seated properly before attaching it to his cooling vest with velcro straps. Preferably before this one ruins my neck. Now finished with plugging himself into the machine, James quickly fastened the extensive restraining harness that would keep him secured in the command couch. Once done, he leaned over and stressed his arm slightly as he lifted up a hefty red bar on the 'Mech's extensive control panel and locked it into position. Below, a new rumble joined with that of the Steel's engines as the fusion power plant at the heart of the war machine surged from standby into full life. Power flooded through the machine and the command console lit up. “Please state your name,” a computer synthesized voice requested. “James Isaac McKenna,” James said, smirking once again at the joke his father had played over forty years ago. “Voiceprint confirmed. Please state your security code.” BattleMechs were, of course, insanely expensive machines on top of being ridiculously powerful, and so naturally no one with any sense wanted them easy to steal. Voiceprints were a good check, but advanced sound reproduction technology could bypass them, and so every mechwarrior entered his or her own personal code to ensure that their war machine couldn't be piloted by unauthorized persons. Since these codes were often spoken just before a battle, most warriors preferred to use something inspiring. Thus James sat back and recited his own code from memory. “Honor is a thin cloak against the chill of the grave,” he recited, quoting the current Coordinator of the Draconis Combine. “But Duty is a blanket that will keep you warm in the coldest hells.” The second part was his own contribution, and he found it fitting enough. “Authorization confirmed. Releasing full control. Welcome back, commander.” James smiled a bit as he reached out his arms to the usual position he took. “Glad to be back,” he said to no one at all. “Just one more thing,” he muttered, and then reached out to press a button on the left side of his command console. The cockpit was instantly filled with a cacophony that some would describe as painful, but James had long ago grown accustomed to listening to Metal. The mechwarrior reached over and worked the communications sub-console to tap into the sensor feed that Nguyen had promised, and James was satisfied to see exterior images pop up on a secondary MFD. He looked over the prospective landing zone for a moment before he triggered his radio, which incidentally also triggered a command line that made the music pause so he could be heard clearly. “This is Dark Horse Actual to all Dark Horses, sound off.” “Two standing by,” his wife said immediately. “Three ready,” Schneider piped in. “Four standing by.” “Five standing by.” “Six ready to rock.” “Seven here.” “Eight waiting to go.” “Nine ready.” “IVAN READY!” The last voice shouted, and James winced at the volume. “Ivan, your callsign is Blackfoot One,” the mercenary commander admonished. “Is silly name,” the gregarious man replied in his accented English. “Ivan's feet all clean, at least until we squish bad guys.” James sighed then, but he couldn't help but smile at the antics of the man who led the Dark Horse's tiny but significant battle armor contingent. “Ivan,” he said, letting his exasperation travel over the radio. “Blackfoots ready,” Ivan replied, knowing when to stop pushing his commander. “Good,” James said. “Alright people, we won't have air cover right now so I want you to stay frosty. Dorian,” he added, addressing Dark Horse Four. “You've got the heaviest 'mech here, so you go out first.” “Ablative point man duty, gotcha,” the pilot of the company's Atlas responded, in typical dark humor. “Hermes, you've got the Beagle, so you go out next and look for anything hidden,” James continued. “If either of you are fired upon, you are free to return it, but I want you back aboard the Steel ASAP unless I tell you otherwise. “Copy that, One,” Schneider replied. Dorian replied in the affirmative as well, and James nodded to himself. “If we encounter no immediate hostiles and the BAP reads clear, we will deploy as follows: myself, two, six, eight, five, seven, and nine. Blackfoot – that's you, Ivan – will come out last and hitch a ride on Three. After that we play this by ear, so keep your eyes peeled and be ready for anything.” Hooffalls echoed loudly in the Everfree Forest, or so it seemed to Twilight Sparkle as the sound bounced off of the tightly-packed trees on either side of the path to the princesses' old castle. Yet compared to the noise that had just cut off ahead of the group of earth and unicorn ponies it seemed minute and insignificant, as if underscoring the lavender unicorn's fears and bringing them into stark relief. Great, I'm mixing metaphors now, Twilight thought in a spurt of irreverence. Rainbow Dash said that Luna wanted us to defend the town, but I have no idea on how to do that. She glanced to her side where she saw her friends Applejack and Pinkie Pie running alongside her, both carrying rope, as were the ponies behind them she knew. At least AJ had one, though I question how well it'll work. Still, we have to try, Twilight resolved mentally, remembering back to the pegasi's charge. We owe it to them to try, she thought, feeling some of her mental burden lifting. Amazing what a little focus can do. A multicolored figure dropped through the canopy above just then, and the group halted as Rainbow Dash hovered in their path. “They landed, all right,” the cyan-coated pegasus reported. “In the clearing by the river where we met that serpent.” Twilight nodded at that, and then turned herself around to look over the volunteers who had come for the trip. “Okay everypony, we need to split into three groups. Applejack and I will lead two that will tie the ropes to the trees across the path from one another. Pinkie Pie and Lyra, you two will carry the rope ends back and forth so we can finish the trap.” Such as it is, Twilight Sparkle thought, knowing that they had slim chances at actually being effective. But again, we have to try something. “Let's be quiet and move carefully, okay? There are other things in here besides invaders.” She received nods from all the ponies, save Pinkie Pie who bounced up and down. “Ooh! I bet they'll have a fun time trying to untie the knots!” She said. “Who?” Applejack asked. “Why, the new guys of course!” Pinkie replied, suddenly exasperated. “I told you girls, my tail was twitching then my back hooves itched and then I had a whole body convulsion while my tongue flopped out and my eyesight blacked out! That means new friends are dropping by unannounced from the sky!” Everypony in the group simply stared at the pink party pony in perpetually pensive poses, before Twilight spoke up. “Pinkie, I know your feelings are unique and all, but are you sure that wasn't some kind of seizure?” “Food poisoning?” Applejack kicked in. “Fell on your head?” Rainbow Dash asked, and then looked surprised when the other ponies save Pinkie shot her dirty looks. “What? We were all thinking it.” “No, no, and nope!” Pinkie replied, her attitude still very much positive. “You'll see!” She said, and then started bounding off down the road again. “Pinkie, wait up!” Twilight shouted as she and the other ponies followed. Despite the few short seconds Pinkie Pie had as an advantage she was already well ahead of them, and both Twilight and Applejack pushed themselves hard and fast to catch up. “Pinkie, y'all need to stop this foalishness,” Applejack insisted as she pulled aside her friend. “You know what them big uglies do to poines!” Sadly, this didn't seem to sink into the pink pony's head, and she continued on while humming a song to herself. Her friends, including Rainbow Dash who'd caught up on hoof since it still hurt a bit to fly, tried reasoning with her as they ran ahead of the others, but nothing seemed to penetrate through to Pinkie's mind. Then suddenly, Applejack dug her hooves in and grabbed Dash's tail with her teeth to drag them both to a complete stop. “Wait, that turn goes into the open!” The orange earth pony shouted to Pinkie and Twilight once she dropped Rainbow's tail. Twilight heard the warning, but she had been so involved in trying to lecture Pinkie that her mind took a few precious seconds to comprehend it, and by then the sudden burst of sunlight in her face further confounded her. Thus when she finally stopped and opened her eyes, she was staring at a scene that was eerily familiar: a large, spheroid craft with its side opened and two massive war machines standing nearby. “Oh, haystacks and horse apples,” the unicorn muttered as fear rooted her in place. Johannes Schneider gently throttled his Firestarter omnimech forward, careful to keep the 45-ton design from running into anything as he followed Dorian out of the Heart of Steel's mechbay. We only have the one Omni, might as well keep it in good condition, he told himself, slightly amused at the wry words. The truth was he was a bit flattered at being trusted with an omnimech, given how rare and expensive they still were. True, it's only a Firestarter, a first-gen omni that's only slightly more useful than the original, but it's still better than most mercs get. That was a running motif in the Dark Horse, he noticed; better equipment than was usual, sometimes greatly so. “Hermes” stopped the train of thought briefly as his 'mech emerged into sunlight, and he carefully scanned the immediate area with his eyes. Upon seeing nothing visually, he continued piloting the Firestarter until he was standing on the ground just beyond the access ramp. Dorian's Atlas stood a mere thirty meters away, its 15-meter-tall bulk and death's head cockpit easily one of the most imposing sights Schneider had ever seen. Ah well, I can look at ugly things back home, he mused as he stopped his 'mech and switched his attention to the controls of the pod-mounted Beagle Active Probe. The bulky, heavy suite of sensors powered up quickly and soon began its ultra-thorough scan of the surrounding area, and Schneider watched with professional discipline as it reported its findings. Interesting, he thought before opening his radio up. “Dark Horse One, I have no mechanized forces on scope within scanning range. However I am picking up multiple light impacts and heavy breathing coming from the east-northeast. Computer suggests quadrupeds, possibly domesticated, heading on a direct course for our location.” Back aboard his 'mech in the Heart of Steel's mechbay, James shook his head. Sometimes those BAPs frighten me, he thought with only a little trepidation. “I'm sure the locals aren't too blind to see a fusion-powered ship landing nearby,” the mercenary commander wryly observed. “Weapons condition yellow, repeat weapons condition yellow.” “Yes sir,” Schneider replied, understanding the code that he wasn't to open fire first, and even then only return fire if he felt he was under a serious threat. “Shall I talk to them when they get here?” “By all means,” James replied with a chuckle. “Let's see that New Avalon accent put to good use.” Schneider wanted to roll his eyes at the overused joke, but didn't bother as the elder McKenna wouldn't see it. Instead he moved his 'mech a few meters forward and stopped just beyond the Atlas, intending to present the very slightly less imposing visage of his 'mech first. Scarcely had he finished the maneuver when two figures ran into sight, and then abruptly stopped. Schneider blinked several times as his brain at first refused to process the sight. He then used his HUD's zoom feature to bring a close-up picture into view, but again found his mind boggling. “Uh, commander?” “Yeah, I see it,” James' voice sounded over the radio. “Alright, who's the wise guy who dosed the med sensors with LSD?” “That's not funny, Jim,” the commander's wife interjected. “Besides, doesn't this fit your theory?” “You must want to die alone, dear, 'cuz you're driving me to an early grave,” James grumbled. “Hermes, move off to cover the river. Dorian, stay still and guard the bay, we're coming out. Everyone else, if I see you fire without orders I will skin you myself, understood?” “Yes sir!” The chorus came back as the unit began to move. Twilight Sparkle had only felt such panic twice before. Once was only a week in the past, facing terrible machines such as these. The other was some months ago when she thought she was going to be 'tardy' with a friendship report. Oh how frivolous that seems now, the lavender unicorn thought as she watched the mottled machine turn from her and stalk off towards the river. Before she could feel relief, though, the ground began to shake, and more of the massive machines stepped out of their transport, passing the largest, ugliest one before lining up between the ship and the two ponies in the open. Two ponies, Twilight's mind remembered, and she managed to tear her gaze away from the machines to see Pinkie Pie standing casually, almost disinterested in the sight before them. What, is, wrong with that pony? Twilight raged inside her mind. The machines finally came to a halt, and the tableau fell silent for a few moments before new figures, much smaller than the giant machines, ambled their way out of the spheroid ship. They looked about as tall as the so-called 'humans' that Stonewall's reports spoke off when they came out of their machines, but these figures looked as if they were still clad in machinery. Suddenly, Twilight's mind clicked and she realized these figures were wearing armor. Scientifically advanced armor, but armor nonetheless. As she processed this information the figures advanced slowly, moving to a stop in front of the machine in the middle of the line. Scarcely had they done so when Pinkie Pie suddenly trotted forward in a relaxed manner. Twilight Sparkle snapped out of her fugue at that. “Pinkie!” She tried to yell and whisper at the same time. “Don't!” Her friend either didn't hear, or ignored the unicorn. Instead, Pinkie trotted up to the tallest of the armor-clad figures, who seemed to look back in dispassion. “Hiya!” Pinkie said, cheerful as usual. “Do you like cupcakes?” She did not ask that, Twilight thought, as her brain tried to refuse the situation on the grounds that it was impossible. It did not help when the figure, after a pause, spoke loudly. “Ivan LOVES cupcakes!” He said, spreading his arms a bit in a welcoming gesture. “Ooh what's your favorite mines pink or is that a flavor I think it's actually strawberries or cotton candy or some mix of the two and maybe blueberries but I don't know because I'm usually not allowed to touch the blueberries since I stained the side of Sugarcube Corner that one time but I say if you wanted oatmeal flavor you should have said so but seriously, oatmeal?” Pinkie Pie's rapid-fire rant rolled over the scene, and Twilight once again felt her brain trying to shut out the world so it could protect itself. The armored figure tossed his head back and laughed heartily. “Ivan loves all cupcakes! You make some, Ivan eats! Ivan eat ten bushels once then go punch Clanner in face!” This last part was emphasized by punching one metal-clad fist into the palm of the other. “We must go have cupcakes soon little pink lady!” “Okie doki Loki!” Pinkie Pie said. “How do you feel about waffles?” James opened the clear viewplate on the front of his neurohelmet and reached through it to rub his face. “Dear God, there are two of them now,” he muttered as the pink thing and Ivan conversed in a manner best not recorded by sane men. He must have left his radio on, for his wife answered him. “It's worse than that, Jim. She's weapons-grade adorable. I think my pancreas is shutting down just watching her.” “Isn't there a rule in the Ares Conventions about not weaponizing pure cuteness?” Came the snarky voice of Dark Horse Six, Earl Delacroix. “I think it's more of an instinctual survival mechanism,” Dorian Carmine replied from the Atlas. “Humans just know not to go down that dark path, lest the whole race succumbs to the heart-attack inducing power of cute.” “I should dock everyone's pay for the enjoyment you're getting out of my suffering,” James grumbled. He closed his neurohelmet up again and then swept the area with his eyes, once again spotting the purple horse thing still riveted in place. With skill born of long practice, he manipulated the controls of his Highlander so he could smoothly and slowly bring up its left arm and point at the purple pony with a single metal finger on the hand actuator. “For the love of all that is holy, please tell me you're not insane,” he said after triggering the 'mech's external speakers. The horse thing startled, but didn't move. “I, uh, no?” She said, sounding frightened. “Good, that makes one of us, at least,” James replied as he brought the 'mech's hand down. “I know I must sound imposing and I'm sure you're scared silly looking up at this thing, but I've had a lousy month so far, and I would really appreciate it if you could do me a favor and tell us where we are, who and what you are, and where can we get some helium?” “H-helium?” The purple thing hesitantly asked. “Yes, helium,” James replied, his voice growing sardonic. “Two protons, two neutrons, two electrons, one of the "noble" gasses, good supercoolant and makes your voice high-pitched at parties?” “Parties?” The pink think by Ivan shouted, suddenly interested in the conversation between James and the purple one. “I love parties! Hey! You guys should totally come to Ponyville and have a party with us! I know everypony isn't in the mood for fun but maybe a good party is all they need to get shaking their hoove thang and dance dance dance the night away while we eat cupcakes and muffins and biscuits and cookies and regular cakes and danish and I wonder why they call it danish if it's not from-” “Pinkie!” The purple thing shouted, cutting off her companion. She then wearily turned her head to look up at the head of James' Highlander again. “Why do you want helium?” “One of our ships was damaged,” James replied. “It lost a lot of liquid helium, and we need to replace it before we can leave.” “Is that... the only reason you're here?” The purple thing asked while taking a step back. James heard the wariness in her voice, and he felt his eyes narrow. “What did he do?” The purple thing – didn't the pink one say they were ponies? Looks about right, James thought – stood still for a moment before she spoke. “You mean O'Connell?” “Yes,” James growled out. “We saw the smoke from space. We know he landed in one of your cities. What we don't know is what has he done since then?” She hesitated again, still unsure, still afraid, and James wondered how much was from his own intimidating, or how much was from O'Connell's arrogance. Finally, the creature shook her head and spoke. “He... He and his soldiers, they killed a lot of ponies. They're burning and stealing everything of value in Manehattan and killing anypony who gets in his way. And he's threatened to come after the rest of us.” “What's with all the pony words?” “Did she say Manehattan?” “My God that's the most heartbreaking face ever.” The voices of his company spilled over James' radio, but fortunately weren't picked up by his microphone and relayed outside. He was about to switch over and yell for silence when his wife came on the line and verbally berated them far more acutely than he would have managed. After the radio fell silent, James took a few minutes to think. Twilight Sparkle stood there, still frightened of the strangers in front of her, but she no longer felt terrified. Where O'Connell had demanded and reacted violently, this person had conversed with her, albeit with a bit of strain, but he at least kept it civil. At least until we spoke of O'Connell, the lavender unicorn remembered the sudden change in tone. Like Celestia was back in Manehattan, he's mad. Is that good or bad? After a moment, the male's voice sounded again. “Do you have any coins on you?” He asked, suddenly. Twilight blinked, startled at the offhand request and not a little reminded of O'Connell's demands. Before she could say anything to it, though, Pinkie Pie ran towards the machine the leader rode in. “I've got some!” She shouted happily, before turning her head and – somehow - reached into her mane with her mouth to withdraw a small coin purse. In one smooth motion, Pinkie whipped her head up and sent the bag flying high into the air. The machine Twilight faced moved its left arm again, the unreal smoothness of its movement a stark contrast to O'Connell's machines. The hand opened into a palm and slipped under the coin purse as the bag began its downward arc, catching it easily. “Congratulations,” the leader's voice said. “You've just hired McKenna's Dark Horse Brigade.”