//------------------------------// // Chapter 09 // Story: The Forbidden // by CMDR Kovacs //------------------------------// “Captain, thou art needed on the bridge,” Kevin, the shipboard AI, alerted over the intercom system, interrupting what was once a poker game. Sinclair heaved a sigh as he stood up from the table, each member of Whiskey Team that was still conscious groaning in disappointment. The captain of the Winter Solstice made his way into the lift, a little stumble from a bit of drink in his gait. After the doors closed, the lift shot up to the CIC. When the doors hissed open, the first thing the captain saw was a blue-green sphere, orbited by a single moon and...a tiny sun? “Kevin, would you mind telling us what the hell we are seeing right now?” “Certainly, my captain,” the AI appeared on the holo-tank, his avatar a medieval knight sans helmet. “It appears to be a geocentric model of a solar system. The coordinates provided to us by the Estovakian Union are on the planet’s surface at longitude 19 degrees, twelve metres by latitude 210, six point four. Elevation is 192 metres above sea level, and the signal is clear.” Sinclair nodded, “Yeah, I can see that. Would you like to explain the tiny sun orbiting the planet? That seems more important than the freaking location of a hunk of metal, don’t ya think?” Kevin cleared his throat, “Ah, yes, captain. Our scans have only recently started, and have thus far shown inconclusive. However, it wouldst be most evident that this system should not exist.” “Thank you, Kevin. Now, if you do come up with an answer for why there’s tiny sun orbiting that planet, I’d be very happy to know,” Sinclair snarked at the AI as he fell into his chair. “Let’s get our people on the ground around that beacon, might as well take a look at this random-ass system floating out in the middle of the Black while we’re here.” “Captain, there are two more things I wouldst care to have thee hear,” Kevin started fondling his longsword’s pommel, a sign of agitation common in humans, but strange to see on an AI of high quality. Sinclair looked up at the silvery-white knight, who had stepped off of the holo-tank and become life-sized. “One, there is a small settlement of xenos life forms almost two kilometres from the beacon. Two, a parallel signal of Novan beginnings has reappeared.” “How? We didn’t send anything to this place. Certainly nothing that...would...” The captain looked confused for a moment before realization dawned on his face. “Kevin, what was one of the effects of Damon’s bomb, eighty-eight years ago?” “Scientists have concluded that in the event of emission changes within the bomb’s core, the effects could range anywhere from differing size of the explosion, time-field manipulations, and, the least likely of all, spatial transference.” “And who, exactly, did Agent Ottenok say had disappeared after the bomb malfunctioned?” Sinclair smirked, connecting the dots. Sir Kevin smiled as the pieces fell into place. “Yes, Sir Benji. It is time to rescue one of our lost lambs.” [/HR] Scootaloo had just returned from her trip to Canterlot, and Eoin was waiting at the station for her. When she saw him standing there, she ran into his arms as fast as she could. “So, how was it? Did you see Mr. N?” he asked when they pulled away. Scootaloo scrunched her face, “I, I dunno. What did he look like?” “I believe that he was one of the statues you had seen,” an old griffon that she hadn’t even noticed stepped into her vision, giving the little pegasus a fright. Noticing the discomfort he accidentally caused, he attempted to sway any ill intent, “Ah, forgive me, little one. My name is Major Greyfeather. I am one of your father’s friends, although we have not seen each other for great many years.” He spoke awkwardly in Equestrian, the language feeling heavy on his tongue after having not spoken it for a long time. “You talk kinda funny,” Scootaloo said from just behind Eoin before he pulled her off of his leg. “And why was one of my dad’s friends a statue?” Armet chuckled softly, this pegasus reminded him of his own daughter when she was younger. “Well, I have not spoken Equestrian for long time, so I am little bit rusty. As for statue, Nikhilus was your father’s mentor, and my school teacher, so we both know him well.” “Scoots, Mr. N was the Statue of Treachery,” Eoin said bluntly. Scootaloo blanched, “But that would make you as old as the Princess!” “No no, Scootaloo,” Armet cut in. “Nikhilus was petrified only fifty-five years ago, not one thousand. Before he was imprisoned, he had been living thirty years all over planet before settling in Gilderheim, where he was teacher for thirteen years.” “And for me, he had helped myself and many others start something special. Something I was a part of when I had found you in that alley.” “But did he betray the Princess?” Scootaloo asked. Both of the adults shook their heads. “No,” Eoin answered. “He was framed by a noblepony by the name ‘Blueblood.’ The entire family has made it their job to attempt to force the Princess to remove Nikhilus from their service as military advisor when tension between the Imperium and Equestria. This had been going on for years since Mr. N had arrived on this world from the Dragon Badlands, though the only source we have of that particular tidbit of information comes from our griffon friend here.” Armet nodded before continuing the tale, “Nikhilus promised me that he would tell me the story of the Badlands, but never did. I am simply waiting for miracle to happen, which I can know full story.” “Why did the Bluebloods hate Mr. N, anyway? He didn’t do anything wrong,” Sweetie Belle decided to show herself to the group, a guilty Applebloom in tow. “Couldn’t resist eavesdropping, I see?” Eoin said. “Don’t look so guilty, I was hoping you too would join us. Well, where were we? Yes, the Bluebloods. After Nikhilus was found by the Princess shortly after he had freed a bunch of ponies from diamond dog slavers. Of course, the way he had dealt with the dogs was less than savory, the Princess felt that she needed to thank this strange new creature. She brought him to Canterlot in order to ask him questions, like who he was, what he was, where he came from. “Soon after, he had proved great worth to the Princess. Enough so, that when he pointed out the massive flaws in the Royal and National Guards, she appointed him the Primary Commandant. That’s a title that means you call most of the shots in the military, and only a majority vote by the Generals’ Board can veto the Commandant’s ruling.” When he turned to Armet, he had a look. Then Eoin turned back to the Crusaders. “Basically, if a lot of people say no, the Commandant can’t do anything. “So, naturally, they say ‘no.’ A lot. Virtually everything that Nikhilus suggested that would be for the interest of Equestria was vetoed, which included better medical supplies that didn’t rely on magic, new training regimes for the troops, and better equipment than what they had. Because of that, the Guards have all of the same stuff for almost one hundred years, which is absolutely absurd. I doubt any of them would have a clue what the gryphons have, but that’s likely because they actually listened to Nikhilus when he switched sides.” Armet off-handedly smoothed out his vest, “Colonel Nikhilus was great leader, and better tactician. Every griffon listened to him, and followed his orders to the letter. Many scientific advancements were because of him. I would think that many ponies would think they would be on alien planet if they came to Imperium, with Yadrolev, Falke and Gethrenia being most particular.” “Those are three of the Great Holds that make up the Imperium, in case you were wondering. I’d go into a lecture on each of them, but then we’d get off topic, and nothing would get done. Anyway, so Mr. N goes to the Imperium, since now there’s a bounty on him. He asks them for asylum, and they, having heard the stories of the legendary Spectre, grant it on one condition: he does exactly the same thing he did for the ponies. They also asked him, after he accepted, if he could share inside knowledge on Equestria. “Naturally, he refused, claiming that it went against everything that he stood for, because Treason is what he calls one of the ‘Forbidden Articles.’ When he had started the Lunar Underground, he founded it on the same six Principles that are upheld in his Novan Republics: Respect, Responsibility, Integrity, Courtesy, Courage, and Honor. Treason breaks four of these Principles, and anything that breaks just one Principle is classified as Forbidden. “So, with how adamant the man was with following his people’s laws by the book, do you think he was capable of Treason with a capital ‘T’?” [/HR] It had been a whole week since Discord had broken free, and had been returned to his statuesque state in Canterlot. Shortly after the Princess had replaced him on his granite pedestal smack dab in the middle of the courtyard, the statue across from him regained all of his colors, which was nothing but black, and now suffered from post-freedom hangover. Every pitiable attempt at comforting the Spectre went unheard. “Dissy?” Nikhilus groaned through his faceplate as he held his head in his hands. Yes, my dear, dear friend? “Two things. One, why didn’t you tell me about this? And two, how did you not be like this?” Because I’m a being of legitimate chaos, not a shaved ape-thing like you. “Fuck...off.” From there, he stood up, just after the medical system in his suit reactivated and pumped painkillers and endorphins throughout his body. Aw, does the big baby need a hug? Oh, no! Not from me, I’m too scared! Discord needlessly pantomimed being afraid of something, his arms outstretched to futilely stop something. “No, I need a stiff drink, and maybe even a soft body to snuggle up to,” if Discord could make bedroom eyes, he certainly would. “No, not you. A human body, my wife in particular.” Discord metaphorically gasped, as he literally couldn’t. I didn’t know you were married! Why didn’t you tell me? “Because of reasons that I can’t think of right now. Besides, there are more important things to focus on.” Like what? “Like that dropship coming down here,” he said, pointing up, and lo and behold! [/HR] My, what a beautiful day, thought Princess Celestia. The sun was shining, birds chirped just outside on the dining room balcony, and best of all, she was free of all political matters for the day. In order to “make up for the past,” Luna had offered to take over the Day Court, if only for today. And so, thus Celestia had the entire day to herself and one little guest. “So, you think you are the best of the best, eh?” Celestia paced back and forth like a Drill Instructor, commanding enormous respect with every step she took. She had learned this from Nikhilus, blast his traitorous soul. The “recruit” remained where it was. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to see about that, Banana Creme,” she growled viciously enough to turn most ponies. The recruit had shown unwavering resolve. Celestia stood abruptly, no emotion adorning her face. “I suppose you will have to prove your worth,” she then turned her sights on the next recruit, which was a twin to the one before. “You! Do you think you’ve got what it takes to be Equestria’s best pie?!” This one crumbled under the pressure, a dollop of whipped cream falling to the tabletop. “Hah,” Celestia crowed triumphantly at her success. “I had thought as much. You may be fit to serve my sister, but certainly not me. Dismissed!” The light grey pony chef that had made the pie took the reject, depressed that he had failed the Princess. The poofy-maned pink pony next to him bounced up and down in excitement, her bubble-blue eyes sparkling with joy, “Yesyesyesyesyes! I did it! I did it! Didja see me do it? Didja? Didja?!” Celestia chuckled softly at her loyal subject’s antics, “Yes, Pinkamena, I did see it. I was there, after all. Now then, would you care to partake in this truly wondrous pie you have made on this fine day?” “Oh, sure, Princess! I can’t wait to taste the creamy, bananany, fla-a-a-vor! Mmmm,” the pink pony’s eyes drooped in imagined pleasure, drool beginning to leak onto the floor in a gratuitous puddle. Celestia closed the Element of Laughter’s mouth with her magic before clearing away the viscous saliva with a clean towel, “Yes, Pinkie Pie. It does smell rather, scrumptious.” “Forgive me, Princess, but I believe that will have to wait,” one of the guards interrupted Celestia as she began dishing out Pinkie’s 18” banana creme pie. “Pray tell, my guard?” The guard said nothing. He simply pointed up and out of the east-side window. “It couldn’t possibly be...too….bad,” Celestia trailed off as she stared at the descending metal contraption only a dozen metres from the window. Her eyes fell down to estimate where it would land, and what she saw shocked her even further. “Ooh, shiny! It looks like a UFO! I hope I get to make some new friends! I wonder if they’re nice? Are they mean? I hope they’re not mean, that wouldn’t be nice! Oh, what am I saying? Of course it wouldn’t be nice, because they’d be mean! Wait. If they’re mean, are they here to steal ponies’ brains?! We need to stop them! But first, I’m hungry. Om nom nom nom...”