//------------------------------// // The Stellar Wind Interview - Segment Two // Story: Adrift - A SPECTRUM Tale // by Sledge115 //------------------------------// PLEASE WAIT   FILE LOADING IS TAKING LONGER THAN EXPECTED   OPEN NEW PAGE?   Y< N   ENTER KEYWORD = Project_Eris   PROCESSING REQUEST   ACCESSING PAGE PROJECT ERIS   ERROR   ACCESS DENIED – SECURITY CLEARANCE TOO LOW   ENTER OVERRIDE?   Y< N PROCESSING OVERRIDE   ERROR   OVERRIDE DENIED   PAGE LOCKED   DO NOT PROCEED   PROCESSING NEW REQUEST   REQUEST ACCEPTED   OPENING FILE   STELLAR WIND INTERVIEW – SEGMENT TWO   DATED NOVEMBER 2, 2023 LOCATION                   : Rothera Military Base, Adelaide Island, British Antarctic Territory   SUBJECT                       : Stellar Wind (ID NOT FOUND) INTERVIEWER                : MH (ID FOUND), MH-2 (ID FOUND)   SUBJECT                           : Stellar Wind SEX                                    : MALE AGE                                       : LATE 20s NATIONALITY            : EQUESTRIAN CUTIE MARK                  : SEXTANT   INTERVIEWER                :  MH SEX                                :  MALE AGE                                   :  CLASSIFIED NATIONALITY            :  ENGLISH   INTERVIEWER                :  MH-2 SEX                                    :  FEMALE AGE                                   :  40 YEARS NATIONALITY                :  ENGLISH   BEGIN …know it’s rather obvious, but is it confirmed?   Afraid so. The Indonesians and Russians reported that their missiles are still in their possession, but they’ve also confirmed they only have, let’s see, two of them.   Are we equipped for a diving expedition?   Yes, why?   Tell them to prepare. I need that fourth missile found.   Alright then, but why are you so wor-?   *click*   …   …   …am I interrupting something? Really, really sorry if I did, didn’t mean to, sorry.   Ah, yes, the interview. Come in, we’re just cleaning up.   But you haven’t explained wh-   Listen, Molly, do as I say, tell the crew to send in a diving team.   Alright, then   *click*   Uh, what was that all about?   Nothing, none of your concern, Mr. Wind.   I-I think it is. What’re y-   Stellar, there’s nothing to worry about. Now, take your seat, please.   Right right right, sorry. Just, don’t point that, umbrella of yours at me, alright? It’s sort of… threatening.   Very well then. Have a seat.   So, where were we?   Apart from the missile exposition you kindly gave us, you were just leaving the Port of London, on board the Mamayev Kurgan.   Oh, right! We left London in the evening of May the 20th. You can blame me for that; didn’t want to stick for long after that, that butcher destroyed Innsbruck’s Bureau, and, and massacred the ponies in the town. That, and the escalating violence in London.   On board, we had us, the crew (24 men and pony strong), Captain Wahid, Joko Widodo, Michael, Raven and Winter, and maybe two dozen civilians, including the newfoal refugees we brought on board.   How did they get on board?   Newfoal refugees, duh. We invited them in, remember? We needed a viable cover to leave the port. Captain Wahid told the Port Authority that we were evacuating newfoals out of the city due to the escalating situation. Given the city’s, uh, screwiness at this point, it’s not hard to see why they easily let us through.   And they didn’t try to stop you?   The Authority didn’t. But someone did.   Who?   Well, we didn’t know. All we heard was someone breaking in the room, and then he started to tell the port authorities to stop us from passing through. The radio cut off at that point. He had this sort of commanding voice, baritone maybe. Dunno who he really was, or why he tried to stop us.   Noted. Now, you said the Mamayev Kurgan was refitted in the Port?   Refits? Oh right. Yeah, we practically rebuilt it.   Elaborate?   Three autocannons, all mounted on three separate elevators. They’re hidden from view most of the time, so no worries about the civilians finding out about them. I don’t know about their full firepower, but given Dimitri’s excitement for them, I think they pack enough punch to take down an entire pegasi air wing. With skyliner support. And that’s some serious firepower right there, I’ll give you that. Who would’ve thought combining machine guns and cannons would be so ridicul-   Mr. Wind, would you please skip your enthusiasm in this one?   Sorry, trailed off a bit there, sheesh.   Anyways, we also had the engines refitted. By human standards, it’s got average speed now, with double the capacity. By OUR standards, heh, the engines were the state of the art engines. I think only the Great Equestrian can match it at the time.   Dimitri and Grigori both suggested and helped add a large boarding ramp, near the ship’s waterline. I told the civilians it was for cars and other vehicles, which was technically true. What I didn’t tell them was that the boss planned to use it as a missile launching hole…thing. Against other ships, just in case we ever cross that bridge, he said.   We also had some machine guns installed, out of view, easy to deploy pretty much. The crew could access them through special hallways in the ship. It was rapid mobilization, Ana explained to me. Speaking of whom, Ana here had her own special perch/office, near the ship’s br- scratch that, on the ship’s bridge. She showed me exactly how it works. Not really complicated, no. It’s a small room, just enough room for a small desk, some rifles, and a window, a reinforced window that is. Like every weapons system we have on board, it’s really easy to set up if you know how to. “Just grab one of the rifles off the wall, and SLAP it on the window bipod. Easy!” she said, with a live demonstration to boot.   It really was quick, and efficient. The rifle stand was just long enough for Ana to grab, and she’s not really that tall. I concluded that, yes, we can deal serious damage.   But I suddenly became much, much less confident in our competence, when Ana knocked over a cup of hot coffee all over my face, while waving her rifle around. She’s a crack shot with rifles, but damn is she clumsy. At least she apologized about it though.   What of your colleagues, Mr. Wind?   Sorry, what?   Your colleagues, Mr. Wind, what else do they have?   Liiike?   Possessions, living quarters, and any little tidbits you would like to tell us.   …alright, did Molly ask you to do this? Because, well, you’re not really the personal details type of guy, Umbrella Man.   …correct. She said it was for, emotional support and historical records. We are, as she said, on our final run.   What did she mean by that?   We are losing this war, she said-   Wait, WHAT? But, Wh-why’d you need this as a historical statement? It’s nothing, nothing much, Umbrella Man. You’re losing the war?   I have already stated the reasons, Mr. Wind. According to Mrs. Hooper, we need all the memories and records of human life we can save. I see no problem with it, given the current situation.   Right-right. Luna, I didn’t know it was THAT ba-hang on, you haven’t stopped the Barrier?   It is, in the words of a newfoal I’ve had the misfortune to witness, never stopping, never faltering, never fading. There’s not much we can do about it for the time being, I’m afraid. Please, Mr. Wind, would you please continue? …al-alright, ahem.   So, Ana’s got her perch, lemme gather my thoughts for a bit.   Dimitri didn’t really have much of a choice with his… messed up state. Dr. Zhirinovsky and him shared a room on board, right in the Doctor’s makeshift office. Dimitri had his detonator always within arm’s reach; the explosives connected to it is rigged to the ship’s armoury, enough to turn our measly ship into atoms and the atoms into nothing.   Luckily for us, Dimitri will only use it if he must, and out of all of us, he’s pretty much the only one trustworthy enough to handle it; he’s not as drunk as Mr. Belinski, nor was he as clumsy as Ana. Ana might’ve accidentally blown up the ship by sneezing if she had it.   Grigori’s place is rather obvious; he’s staying with Captain Wahid in the bridge, but in a separate room. He’s staying in the ship’s control room, while Wahid’s with the other bridge crew downstairs. In each of their beds, they have either a rifle or another MAC-10, like mine. Although, Grigori does have a ludicrously powerful rifle just in case he needs it, or when Ana needs a replacement rifle.   Viktor? He doesn’t have a set place; always carries his stuff around in that backpack of his. He does have a certain pattern of sleeping with the civilians, I think he wants to keep a close, close eye on them.   And yet, he still doesn’t know Mr. Widodo’s occupation?   Ignore that, I’ll get to that later.   As for me, well, I sleep in the ship’s radio room. It’s got a quick access vent to the ship’s observation deck, in the front, as well as to the bridge. I also have a roommate; he’s an earth pony named Resolute. He’s haughty and stuffy if you ask me, but I couldn’t complain about it in front of him; the guy was at least a head taller than me. He served as the ship’s intelligence and communications officer, and back in Equestria he used to work for the Guard. I think he left due to the fact that they won’t promote him to a higher position. Apart from his whole stuffiness and haughtiness and rather intimidating accent, he’s quite amicable when you get closer to him. We were well defended in our own rooms, as you know. Grigori’s got his silly AWP, Ana’s got her own rifle collection, Dimitri’s got his, uh, deagle or something, Viktor’s a one man army with that machine gun he carries around, and I’ve got this MAC-10 to guard me…now that I think about it, that’s not much of a defense at all. Well, what’s important is that it’s kinda lethal, right?   By the time any attackers manage to break through those autocannons we have up top, they’ll have to deal with the crew AND five heavily armed and trained soldiers. Ok, maybe not that last part, but that’ll do for now. That’s not counting the machine guns we have mounted on the deck; eight or ten of them, mixed bag. According to Grigori, they date back to the late Cold War, but those twin ones are older than the Mamayev Kurgan itself. There’s still even more machine guns downstairs, though these ones are “relatively lighter” in comparison.   Of course, I couldn’t help but notice; why do we have so much firepower? I started to ask around the ship, to everyone that isn’t a civilian. No, we still didn’t know Jokowi is, mind you. Shut up.   …I didn’t say anything.   Well, you’re probably going to.   Anyway, everyone was busy with their own stuff. Many of the crew were kinda reluctant to talk to me, even the ponies didn’t really know much. So, I decided to turn to my team.   Turns out our boss was paranoid. Or prepared. Or any combination of those two. He actually expected us to be attacked at one point. Well, after learning what our cargo was, I couldn’t blame him for that.   Would you care to remind us when and how did you learn of the cargo’s nature?   I’ll get to that, hang on. Didn’t Molly tell you to ask for personal details?   Well, yes. Then hear me on this, alright?   It was fine and dandy on board our little ship, our endeavour to Jakarta going rather well, everyone’s well fed thanks to the supplies we got in London. Raven and I haven’t told Viktor about the potions we brought on board; Dimitri’s wounds got better slightly thanks to Winter and Zhirinovsky’s efforts. He’s still on a wheelchair though.   We were warming up to each other, slowly but surely, Sure, some of the human crewmembers were a bit of a speciesist against us ponies, but most of the time – I mean, most of them are pretty accepting of us.   Until Viktor’s announcement, I haven’t seen much of Raven or Winter; too busy working. They, like the other civilians, are scattered across the ship. Mostly one area that didn’t have any sort of weapons lying around. Michael on the other hand, stayed with Zhirinovsky and Dimitri; he’s old and all that. That also prevented Dimitri and Zhirinovsky from talking about our business.   Anyway, Raven and Winter had formed one cute friendship with each other. She’s rather supportive of him, and would speak up against the mistreatment of our few newfoal passengers and my fellow pony crewmember, every time they get insulted by some of our more extreme crewmembers. Raven, being a minor pony supremacist himself, found this especially touching.   What of the other passengers?   Well, come to think of it, I haven’t come into contact with them all that much haven’t I? I didn’t pay them much attention, too busy guiding Grigori at night and assisting Resolute at day. The part of the trip from London, to the coast of France, was rather uneventful. We didn’t stop anywhere else; we stocked the ship with enough provisions to last us until we arrived in Jakarta.   What about this “Resolute” fellow?   What about him? He’s haughty, stuffy, and amicable once you get to him. I thought we were over this?   You misinterpreted. What is his attitude towards the Bureaus? Did you bring the topic up?   Uh, actually, yeah, why?   What was his attitude then?   He doesn’t really care about the Bureaus, but he does support ponification a bit. Just a bit, he thinks it shouldn’t be used for trivial reasons; rather, as a medicine.   Did he have a, a “cutie mark”?   Yeah, I think it was a chess bishop. He’s good at chess, so I guess it pretty much fits. What about it?   Just a thought, nothing. Carry on, please.   Huh. Anyways, yeah, didn’t get to meet the other passengers all that much. I do run into them from time to time, but I didn’t interact with them much. The only person I constantly communicate with is Resolute, and Viktor through the radio whenever he needed help. Navigation here is a bit easy for me, even though I only have the stars and an old chart for use. Resolute, as I’ve said, is quite friendly once you get past the haughtiness. We’ve worked wonderfully together, but the one thing I find rather annoying is his tendency to stick to the rules. Like, he wouldn’t switch to any other channel in the radio; just the ones Viktor ordered him to.   Funnily enough, he was a former college classmate with my dad. He told me on a fine June night, in the 15th. He doesn’t know my dad much, but was kinda jealous when he found out the old stallion joined the Royal Guard’s intelligence division, and he’s stuck being a low paying librarian. Like pretty much every single pony we had in the crew, he jumped at the offer to join the Mamayev Kurgan’s crew.   What was his attitude towards Equestria’s contact with Earth?   Resolute? Well, he sees it as a chance to get off the “stagnant world we called home”. He doesn’t really care about humanity’s supposed violence. Heck, he actually admires “the efficiency of human military intelligence”. Bit of a control freak if you ask me; he seems to believe in the absolute need for government agents to be inserted in the common folk, and effectively control the government. He’s kind of a crackpot, don’t you think?   Well… he does strike me as a fellow who would do well in the government.   …what. Moving on then, I suppose.   Resolute told me came into contact with my dad again, sometime before I left Equestria. It turned out he had one huge argument with my dad, and led to him leaving Equestria. He confided in me about how Dad used the argument that “humans are inferior”, something-something he used against me too.   Did all of you have prior knowledge of humanity before the portal incident?   Well, no. They were just myths you know, myths from a long forgotten land. They’re just crackpot theories. Oh, you should’ve seen our faces when we realized that nutjob Lyra was right when she found evidence of humans.   There were previous visits by us?   Don’t know for sure. It’s just a fringe theory, Resolute told me. Only weird ponies like Lyra has ever paid it any serious attention, you see.   And how did Ambassador Heartstrings discover these “evidence”?   Well, I haven’t heard about the details, but according to official records, she found them in a sunken ship. Long story about that one, which I don’t know the details about, so yeah, can’t help too much with that.   What do you know of this ship?   In a nutshell? It’s an expedition  ship,  funded by Doc Waggoner back in the day. It sailed to some place over the ocean, and didn’t come back again. Lyra here found it on a diving trip. Completely accidental. She found some old records and stuff like that, toys, some sciencey instruments and drawings and such. The Bucephalus’ discovery made her a star overnight (figuratively), and Cellie even decided to make her one of the first ponies to make first contact with Earth! Over that whackjob Catseye, even. Weird isn’t it? One day we find evidence we’re not alone in the whole wide multiverse, and then the next we find ourselves visiting the exact same universe of origin! Yes, it is rather odd. Awfully convenient, even, I must say.   Yep, it’s what happened. Contrived and stuff. Hey, have you wond-    However, time is of the essence, please carry on with the, er, small talks you’ve had with Mr. Reso-   *four knocks*   Huh? Who’s th-   Come in   *click*   Terribly sorry to interrupt sir, Eddy called for you.   Anthea, I’m in the middle of a very important session. Tell Mr. Eddy to bugger off for a while.   Sir, they need you on board. It’s urgent, they said.   Does this have something to do with the Mamayev Kurgan?   Yes, sir. They need you on board.   For what?   They’ve found it, sir.   Umbrella Man? What’s going on here?   …apologies, Mr. Wind, but I have some urgent matter to attend to.   Wait, wait, WAIT! Where are you going?   A diving trip, Mr. Wind. Now, good day.   Bu-who’ll replace you-   *click*   -here. Darn it.   *silence*   Hnnnnhhhh.   *silence*   Welp, got nothing else to do, soooo-   Cast the shadows out from sight. A final stand a shouting cry. All the wrongs now turned to right, so fight the past, take back the night. And caaalll upon, the torch, tonight. To bring out all, the ghosts,  to light Becaaause, at last, we have to go. It’s tiiiiiime. To take back the nig- *click*   Good morning!   ghht-Molly?   Who else?   Right, right. So, uhm, what’re you doing here?   Well, isn’t it obvious? I’m filling in for the Umbrella Man   What, you call him that too?   Well no, but it kind of sticks to him. What was that song?   That? Just, just something I picked up on the radio. Someone decided to broadcast some internet song from waaaay back in 2013. Sort of an unofficial resistance song.   Interesting. What’s it called, Stellar?   Take Back the Night. It used to have an animation to go with it, but then some ponies on the PHL decided to broadcast it as, well, a resistance slash propaganda song. It stuck with them, ever since Princess Luna…got stoned. That sounds wrong. Sorry.   I’d love to hear in full sometime later. Really sorry, but, well, we’ve got some matters to attend to.   Oh, yeah, no prob.   So, where did you left off ?   Well, I’ve summed up everything I had to discuss with Resolute over the trip. Things turned to regular old, boring business, I suppose. A little bit of reading off the charts, helping Resolute with his stuff sometimes (he’s a good operator, but hey, still an earth pony. A bit of magic can help at times), or reporting back to Cap’n Wahid and co up there on the bridge.   What did you enjoy most on board?   …okay, why ask me that?   Pardon?   It’s an official interview, right? Why the personal questions? I mean, yeah, your friend there asks personal questions as well, but then he said you told him to.   It’s for moral support. Since, well, we haven’t stopped the Barrier, whoever listens to this in the future should know you’re hu-I mean pony. A living creature with a personality, people connect better to those. You get what I’m saying, Stellar? Just-just in case Earth doesn’t make it through in one piece.   Huh, that actually makes sense.   Well, there was one thing that didn’t bore me to death when I did it. It was when I was ordered to star gaze for directions.   Can you elaborate on that?   Basically, when the skies are clear, I’m told to climb up to the crow’s nest, and watch the stars. Yes, this is a task I’m told to do by the Captain or Viktor, but I really, really liked it. It, calms your mind after all the crap you’ve been through.   While there aren’t any major threats to my life during the, uh, initial, sailing part, the whole “smuggle illegal weaponry while evading stuff” danger caught up with my mind, and, well, I was kinda nervous for the trip. Wait, aren’t your cutie mark a sextant?   I know you humans don’t make a big fuss about cutie marks Molly, but they’re a part of you, you see. Yes, it’s a sextant, not a telescope, but that doesn’t mean I only do normal navigationy stuff. The name Stellar Wind has something to do with my stargazing hobby, you see; as a foal, I loved it when Mom brought me out at night.   Earth’s skies are so much dirtier than ours back home. When you’re out at sea, with clear skies all night long, it just, reminds you of home, right? Sure, the stars are all wrong, but what counts is the feeling you get, when you see that no matter where you are, no matter how different, the night skies are always, ALWAYS, works of art.   Back home, I’d usually sneak out of my room, with a mattress, and some snacks, as well as my dad’s old telescope. We lived in the side of a mountain, close enough to Vanhoover to see the cityscape. Usually though, the skies above Vanhoover are so clear you can see hundreds and hundreds of stars even without the telescope.   And if I could, I would bring my cousin Frost with me on holidays; he and his mother lives with me and dad. The little colt loved seeing the stars with me; usually I’d say the stars are past heroes, Equestrian or not. It’s, too bad Winter Truce couldn’t be with us. Dad got hold of him, and sent him to fight on Earth last I heard. I hope he’s alright.   On Hearthswarming, Frost would practically beg to come with me; I haven’t disappointed him since. Oh he loved seeing the reindeers come, with their, uh, magicks and stuff. And he would squee if he sees the great stag himself. Adding to that experience, picture an entire city lit by lamps and candles, with the stars above the night sky. That’s why, that’s why I wanted to go to Earth, or at least part of the reason. To see the same view, or at least close to it, but with the wonders of humanity with it, the life and blood of a megacity.   Damn this war, damn Lyra and her stupid discovery, damn Celestia, damn everything. I, I just want to go back home, without any sort of Tyrant waiting there. I promised Frost I’ll be home with Winter; Luna knows where he is now, thanks to that stupid war. I want the old Equestria back, kind and loving and warm.   I’m sorry, Stellar.   It-it’s alright. There’s nothing of the old Equestria to go back to anyways. Maybe, just maybe, after all of this is over, and the Tyrant has been stopped,  I’ll settle down in something that reminds me of home, like the US’ Western Coast, or the Himalayas, heck maybe Bandung, or Paris van Java as they called it. From what I’ve heard from Wahid and Ana, that city looks and feels almost exactly like Vanhoover.   No use dwelling in the past. Just, forget about it, alright? Sorry if I’m a bit, emotional, had to get it off my mind.   It’s alright, Stellar, it’s alright. Now, um, I don’t mean to be rude, sorry if I am, but where were we?   Right, yeah.   I wasn’t always alone in my thoughts, you see. Sometimes a crewmember would accompany me for a few minutes, share some coffee, talk about life on board the ship, stuff like that. When my companion is another pony crewmember, we’d chat about life in Equestria a bit. But even with them it never went further than that; not that many crewmembers went to the deck with me, so I mostly spent stargazing alone.   But of course, someone had to notice, right?   So there I was, watching the night sky, on a particularly windy June night. I was shivering; my coat offered little protection against the wind. Maybe some pegasi decided to pull off a sick joke somewhere in France, I dunno.   Ana decided to pay me a visit that night; she kindly said I forgot to drink the soup Dimitri served us down there, so she brought it up for me. Since the incident with the coffee was still fresh in my head, I was kinda wary that she would somehow knock it into my face.   Luckily, that didn’t happen, although she almost knocked me out with a completely accidental punch. Emphasize completely accidental; that girl can knock out an entire army just by sitting. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but who knows?   Naturally, I asked her why she wanted to come up here, instead of just calling me down. She said she wanted to deliver the soup. Of course, we both know the real reason-what’s with that smile? What smile? Nothing, just continue with your story Stellar. Carry on!   …ok, huh, weird. Ahem.   Anyways, yeah, I think Ana just wanted to sit up here and watch the stars. Overall, I believe she just wanted a little R and R; she told me that she spent maaaaybe too much time in her little nest. While I’m still kinda wary of her, um quirks, I’m fine with her being around, as long as I’m not alone up here.   The girl may be clumsy, but she has got to be the nicest person on board (with Jokowi on the same ship, that’s saying something); she took one look at me, quickly said I look a bit cold, and offered her winter coat. As everyone always says when they’re being offered something, I said no to it, as I thought it would be redundant.   Didn’t stop her. At all. Before I knew it, we were locked in a scuffle, with Ana trying to put the coat around us both. Rolled around a bit, b- seriously, what’s with the smile? Ah, whatever-before I finally relented. And so it was that I find myself in a coat that wasn’t designed for us both at once, but Ana, being Ana, decided our body heat would warm each other. With the soup’s help, of course. Dimitri makes good soups even when crippled, I’ll give him that.   So, in the end, we were in a snuggly position, drinking soup and stargazing, with Ana’s comfy winter coat draped over us. And by Luna, it was very, very warm indeed; heck, I even felt a bit hot, inside; Ana sure is ditzy, but her idea of sharing body heat is very thoughtfu-what? Oh, nothing, just, just carry on (*snigger*). So, um, what did you do after you got *ahem* comfortable with her? Snuggle a bit more?   Well, uh, we did some small talk, of course, what were you thin-see? You’re doing that smile again! Seriously, what is up with that smile?   Nothing, really. It’s just that, well, I can imagine how it turned out.   …ok…?   Ana, as I’ve discovered, isn’t that shady at all. While we rested – you can stop sniggering now, Molly – while we rested on the mattress, she spilled out her past life. Boy was she a motor mouth; all I did was admit a little bit about the whole messup that sent me to Equestria, and BOOM! She was blabbering about her life. Although I gotta admit, she was so cute when she blabbered.   I suppose it’s no problem for me to recite that here, right? Personal details after all.   Sure, sure, it’s fine   As we observed the tranquil night sky, just off the coast of France, Ana began her little backstory exposition.   She first joined the group we were in back in 2013, when she just earned her college degree. While she was happy and all with her degree, Ana explained that she, well, didn’t feel like staying in Norway. And so, she decided to go into Russia, leaving her grandfather and sister back in her hometown. Fate being silly as it is, she joined our smuggling ring completely by accident. She never said how and why, come to think about it. Given who she is, I’d say she turned left instead of right. Silly Ana, as always.   I gradually enjoyed her company, even after she accidentally hit me during her rather, eh, energetic story… story telling. While she blabbered on and on and on, I thought about my other teammates, and what I actually thought about them.   Viktor, Viktor’s a good man. I cannot, in any way, picture him as a killer.   Grigori’s a bit tougher. I can see him as the man who would pull the trigger.   Dimitri? The guy’s big and huggable, and loves his explosives. That’s all I really knew about him at the time. Apart from Ana, I stayed away from them most of the time.   See, now I feel guilty, your fault by the way, Molly. I tried to push away Ana when I first came into the team you see; her inherent clumsiness turned me off significantly.  Grigori didn’t like me all that much, and Dimitri likes everyone. Really, the only person I talked to for realsies, back in December was Viktor. Even that was mostly out of necessity.   Anyways, I would’ve fallen asleep with Ana, hand in hoof, were it not for Grigori’s ludicrously loud announcement over the intercom.  He was screaming at us to head straight for the comms room.   How loud?   Loud enough to possibly rupture my eardrums. Seriously.   It was loud but effective, mind you; within minutes,  me and Ana were rushing downstairs, passing pretty much everyone on board. Along the way,  Raven and Winter decided to follow us. Ana was a bit, ehr, apprehensive, but didn’t say anything about it. She didn’t really like people following her; gives her the creeps.   By the time we got to the radio room, the whole place was an absolute mess. Blood splatter across  the wall, smoke from the radio, and the smell of gunfire. By the moon, it was horrific.   The team was already there, with a couple other crewmembers in the room. Grigori explained it to me pretty quickly; apparently Nikolai Belinski drank one glass of vodka too many, and ended up drunk enough to stumble his way into the radio room.   Things… got ugly fast.   Nikolai here went a bit nuts when drunk, started swinging his pistol around. Poor Resolute didn’t see him coming; he sort of stumbled into the radio room and called Resolute an incompetent toy, and THEN he tried to wrestle control of the whole rig.   Resolute didn’t take too kindly to that, and the two ended up in a struggle that ended in a bang.   Nikolai shot Resolute?   Yep. Resolute got lucky there, though.. One more inch and the bullet would have severed a major artery vessel. The shock was enough to knock him unconscious.   By the time Grigori and Viktor got there, Resolute was lying against a wall, and Nikolai was busy boasting into the radio. They managed to restrain him in time, and Grigori called out to us.   Of course, they didn’t expect Winter to be following us.   Grigori ended up in a shouting match with Raven, said she could have jeopardized our whole cover. Raven retorted that the cover didn’t matter now that a human crewmember spoiled our entire stuff on the radio.   Viktor tried to separate them, but by then it took Lev and Nikita to restrain Grigori before he could strangle Raven. Winter was huddled in a corner; she couldn’t take the yelling and violence. I was sort of just… there, too speechless to do anything.   Ana tried to calm Winter down, all the while telling me to bring Resolute to Doc Zhirinovsky. ‘course, by this point I was already halfway in trying to bring him up. But then Jokowi and Michael came.   Michael, rather politely, inquired why there’s blood all over the wall. Jokowi went a little more straight to the point; as in, he asked just what the hell are we really carrying on board.   Before Viktor could reply, Davis, some guy who brought his family on board (probably a cheapskate, dunno), demanded a quick explanation. I know I know, he had a young daughter on board, and was probably a bit overprotective, but was it really necessary to grab Viktor by his coat?   That sent Grigori over the edge; within seconds, he had punched out Mr. Davis and drew his gun on Jokowi, Michael, and his bodyguards. They didn’t take it too well, and drew their own rifles on us.   For  a few moments, everything was silent; the only noise heard was Winter softly sobbing in the corner, and my own nervous breaths. And then Viktor recognized the rifles the guards were wielding. From that tiny bit of info, he deduced that Jokowi really is that Jokowi.   Viktor, being Viktor tried to reason with the Indonesian President, said he didn’t want any trouble. And in a truly, truly awesome moment, Jokowi simply replied that, well, he couldn’t let us supply guns to the HLF, or any other armed group in Indonesia.   Well, we never found out who exactly were we selling our guns to, but that accusation drove Grigori over the edge, and all of Tartarus broke loose in that little radio room.   It was quick, short, and violent; within a minute, Lev was incapacipatated, Nikita choked to death in his own blood, and all four of Jokowi’s bodyguards were taken down thanks to timely reinforcements. Winter, poor Winter was covered in blood, none of it hers. Her screams compounded the cacophony of noises in the radio room.   Jokowi and Michael had the idea to take cover, and even though Jokowi shielded Michael with his own body, no bullet struck him or the old king.   Ana, well, she knew we didn’t bring guns, and so decided to try to shield me from the AR2 bullets the guards were shooting us with. Wasn’t really necessary, since they weren’t aiming for us; still, I appreciated the gesture.   Grigori’s had enough of being covert; he reasoned to Viktor that there was NO WAY anyone on the ship could have missed the sound of unsuppressed gunfire.   Viktor, Viktor was powerless at that moment. Couldn’t raise a finger to stop Grigori from grabbing Jokowi and dragging him away to the ship’s bridge.   What for?   To make a statement.   See, Grigori, while he’s kinda silent, has been holding back this entire time. As Viktor and I left Ana to tend to everyone (especially Winter, poor  girl’s shellshocked) in the radio room, he explained that Grigori’s been waiting for a moment like this, to finally make a statement to the civilians that we are NOT dicking around.   So there he was, standing on the bridge’s balcony, Jokowi forcibly sat by his side. Before him were our entire complement as well as the civvies we brought. It was, noisy, to say the least. Everyone, even the crewmembers, were demanding to know just what in Tartarus is going on.   Grigori silenced them all, including Mr. Davis’ rather loud daughter, with his AK-   Wait wait wait he GUNNED them down?!   Wha-no! Nonono, you got it wrong Molly, he, he just unloaded a clip into the air to make them sile-oh dear it came out wrong didn’t it? Ah well, he shot at the air to silence them.   After everyone’s nice and silent, he started making his speech. I don’t remember all of it, but after the whole incident, Grigori gave me a brief summary of the speech he gave to the crowd, while threatening them with his AK: Yes, we are smugglers.   Yes, Jokowi is the Indonesian President.   No, we didn’t know he was a foreign President until tonight.   Yes, we are carrying illegal weaponry, and stolen potions.   We fully intend to use both if the situation demands it. No exceptions.   Oh it wasn’t the end of our troubles, hell no, Grigori told me. Viktor and him had discussed it a bit, and they both agreed that by this point someone with authority outside must’ve caught on to what Nikolai was babbling about in the radio.   So, what exactly did he ramble on about?   Ramble? He was downright BOASTING for Luna’s sake!   He literally drunk dialed the entire militaries of Faust-damned Europe, through an open channel! Heck, if the ongoing cold war didn’t happen, he would have unleashed the military might of the European Union on our ship, and we’d be paraded around as a triumphant example of bad illegal smuggling.    Even then, Viktor and Grigori knew someone must’ve heard him, and as Dimitri pointed out in his defense of Nikolai, the owners of the normal cargo we’ve got on board will have contacted the authorities by now.   So, for three days we were on edge, from June 17th to the 19th. The passengers were herded back to their hold and locked in, but with access to food and fresh air, of course. Jokowi, Jokowi and Michael were put in with Doc Zhirinovsky and Dimitri, for the sake of not making them on edge as it is.   And them on June 18, we got a phone call, from one ‘Nick Fleming’. Notice the gesture I’m making, the quotation gesture. ‘Nick Fleming’.   Mr. ‘Fleming’ asked us politely if we had any cargo from Dee Enterprises. As I’m the one filing in for Resolute, I responded yes, we had. He kept asking us increasingly weird questions, and so I put him on hold.   Viktor, Grigori, and Ana came to support me. To Viktor’s dismay and Grigori’s annoyance, Ana decided to continue the convo.   Well, she calls bullshit on Mr. Fleming being Mr. Fleming, and him working for Dee Enterprises, claiming the cargo we have is fully authorized. That is, until Mr. Fleming told us his company never sent any cargo on board our ship. While we couldn’t confirm nor deny this, it pretty much nailed our coffin shut; Dee Enterprises might have the SAS on speed dial, according to Grigori.   Now, I only heard about their reputation, but the very mention of the SAS sent chills down everyone’s necks (except me, of course, And Raven, and Winter, and every pony crewmember). While Raven, Winter, and I have all seen SAS personnel back in London, Viktor’s the only one of us who’s had any experience dealing with them, and even then he only engaged two of them.   When did he meet them, Stellar?   He met them back in the nineties, you see. He was on guard duty under employment of some hardline Russian in league with our current boss. When his boss was busy dealing in some uranium trade, a sniper suddenly opened fire out and blew off his arm. Viktor told us that there were only two SAS operatives battling them in the ensuing firefight, one of them crippled and armed with only a sniper rifle, no less, but the full might of his heavily armed crew couldn’t kill the two of them, and the SAS pair got evacuated to fight another day. What about the missiles?   I already told the Umbrella Man, about how Viktor decided to drop the bombshell of a private exposition about the missiles, bit redundant if I decide to tell you again, am I right?   Right, yeah, sorry. Carry on, Stellar.   On the evening of June 19, Grigori’s radar intercepted an aircraft approaching our ship. Within the hour, Viktor ordered our crew on high alert, and to be prepared against boarding parties. Even Dimitri got in the action by helping the crew fit in some rockets.   I requested a brief leave, which Ana granted; I needed some time alone with Raven and Winter.   They came out of their room, a bit worse for wear, but not too grumpy or all that (they’re quite happy to see me then, actually. I’m gonna stick with the fact that they might be drunk), and we had a little chat. Winter’s afraid, Raven told me, although she doesn’t show all that. I assured him that I’ll make sure the coming British forces won’t hurt him or Winter, in any way. As a sign of good faith, I armed him with another MAC-10 just in case.   Winter didn’t really like it; she didn’t trust guns after what went wrong in the radio room. Raven, although he would have preferred a Royal Guard spear, didn’t complain too hard.   We parted ways in the hold, all the cliché’d stuff, I’ll skip that. I only told Raven to come to Vanhoover, find a little colt who goes by the name of Frost, and tell him his cousin isn’t coming home regrettably, in the event that a SAS soldier put a bullet through my head. By 7 o’clock, we were ready for them. Dimitri left his room to provide watch on where and when to fire the RPGs, Ana was back in her perch with her rifle stocks, her Dragunovs and AWPs. Wahid and Grigori would protect the bridge, since they would pretty much attack it first, and Viktor prepared the machine gun crews. Everyone else, including me and Raven, were assigned to protect the ship’s corridors, and prevent the SAS from taking our cargo, and protect the civilians from the crossfire as well.   All in all, we were all set, even though we’re forced to use some of our newer gear we were meant to smuggle.   By 9 o’clock, all was quiet, with only the sound of waves pounding against the ship, and the occasional metal rattling of our guns, to interrupt the silence. It was tense; every breath, every step we make could be critical. The SAS, or whoever’s after us, was clearly taking their time.   And near midnight, they arrived.   One of the men in the forward bow of the ship was the first to spot them as they arrived in a helicopter. And a huge one at that, maybe a Merlin troop carrier, Ana said over the radio. That was the last bit of info we received before we shut off all the comms.   They circled around us first, gauging our strength maybe, I dunno, before finally stopping near the bridge. Then, they decided to land their troops up on the helipad we had, maybe for convenience’ sake.   That was their first mistake; landing there brought their helicopter close enough for Dimitri’s RPGs to strike. Viktor gave the order, and the rest is history.   From what I heard up on the deck, the RPG round struck the chopper while it was still sending down troops, and sent it spiraling into one of our towers, before finally crashing in the ocean. But a simple, crashed chopper isn’t going to stop the SAS, no. By Luna, they were going to bring us down with the ship.   Soon enough, gunfire rang out on the deck above, while Raven, Winter and I heard the battle raging. Everyone down in the hold was tense; they could decide to descend down below and set charges on the missiles.   Sure enough, they did.   While we managed to take out their chopper, and some of their men with it, the SAS still had a significant presence on board; eight of them, at least, although not all of them were regular SAS.   Some were regular soldiers; marines, I think, armed with their standard issue rifles. Even then we were still fighting a tough battle. By the time the battle on board the deck was over, five of our crewmembers were dead, 0 SAS casualties apart from the chopper crash.   Ana turned on comms again, and warned us down below of them coming downstairs. She had managed to pin down the soldiers on the deck, hit one of them non-fatally, but forced them to go down the ship.   No sooner than when Ana said this that they did come to us. Heck, I barely survived the encounter.   It’s a wonder we actually won at the end; they were very professional, I’ll give them that. And we were expecting them!   So there I was, watching a corridor, when I suddenly saw several dark figures moving in from the dark hallway. I called out to my teammates, three others, armed with AKs, and we began to fight back.   But it wasn’t GOOD ENOUGH. Those damn elites took out all three of my teammates within TWO LUNA DAMNED MINUTES.   It was like, FWIP FWIP FWIP, and BAM they’re FREAKING DEAD! Holy Tartarus, they were TERRIFYING. Couldn’t see their faces too; they were hidden entirely in gas masks. Somehow, that made them even MORE scary.   As I said, FWIP-FWIP-FREAKING-FWIP, and my teammates fell over dead. Yeah, they tried to fight back,  but those Brits were too fast for us.   I, I only survived because I decided to hide beneath their bodies. Dunno why it fooled them, considering I stuck out like a sore thumb, but it worked, and that’s all that matters.   As they passed, I discerned some info about them. Their apparent leader was a Sergeant named, named Harold Winson, and he was in charge because “Captain Griffin” was down, and “Baseplate” put him in command. That abrupt change of command didn’t deter his hardheadedness. One of them was injured, no doubt because of Ana’s fine shooting previously.  I think the young man’s name was, uh, James Croft.   Poor guy’s got a bullet through his sides, but heck, he still joked around about it. Even his teammates’ “you look like hammered shit” response to his (really unnecessary question), earned a deadpan “No shit, Sherlock” from him. He was a nice guy, I can tell.   Was there anyone else with them?   Yeah, there’s, there’s Corporal Harwood, dunno about the rest; some were SAS, a minority were members of the Royal Marines. But there was one civilian with them. What was his name, Stellar?   Richard Hoffman, I think. Doctor Richard Hoffman, some German-British man, from his name and accent. I seriously don’t know what exactly a, a Bureau doctor would be doing with the British special forces, but they were definitely up to something else. They were on to us and the potion shipment perhaps.   You met Richard?   Well, passed by h-you know him?   Used to, at least. He left work in, uh, St. Barts, where I worked, for some, some new employment he said.   Huh, small world.   Anyways, I just waited until they passed, off to be someone else’s damned problem. For, maybe three hours, I just laid there, waiting for somepony to come to me. I couldn’t risk waking up, prance around like a dingus, and then get shot in the face by surprise surprise, the SAS.   I didn’t have to wait all night long, thank Luna. Serene, one of the crewmembers I rarely talked to, found me under the corpses, and dusted me off, before taking me to the infirmary. Not for medical attention, but to lock down the SAS in there.   By the time we got there, we got what, twelve different rifles pointed at the door? Yep, sounds about right.   We managed to trap them in the room, sort of a humane prison, considering there’s enough room in there to accommodate all of them. Plus they’ve got Jokowi and Michael to keep them company.   But we still had a problem; half our crew are dead or injured. While Doc Zhirinovsky is available outside, Dimitri…   Poor, poor Dimitri got his wounds reopened in the fighting. Those damned SAS weapons did it, and he was bleeding profusely. Even the good Doctor couldn’t help.   But of course, Winter, Winter decided to help Dimitri, with the potions we’ve got on board. And as she told me, the presence of a Bureau doctor on board might help a bit.   It took us days and days to negotiate provisions for the trapped men, but eventually, on June the 23rd, a combination of factors beyond our control convinced the SAS to accept our assistance and in exchange let Doc Hoffman help Dimitri. Jokowi kindly told the SAS that we weren’t that harmful, as Michael recalled. Good man, he was, even Grigori had to (begrudgingly) admit that.   As, as we feared greatly, we were forced to, to convert Dimitri. I’m sorry, but, I didn’t exactly fear it greatly; I actually supported his conversion at the time. The biggest irony is that Doc Hoffman, was the one to do it. I’ll tell you later.   They had to convert Private Croft too; I can’t forget the look on his eyes as they turned him into another newfoal.   Now, Doc Hoffman told us that, that the process would not be for the weak hearted, and gestured for us to leave the room, all seven of the SAS, as well as Jokowi and Michael.   All seven?   Yeah, all seven. See, this is why we almost lost the fight; they had exactly 0 casualties from the battle apart from the helicopter and James’ injuries, they weren’t worse for wear. The SOLE REASON we even SUPPOSEDLY WON was that they got cornered in the infirmary.   As Hoffman converted Dimitri and Croft, I finally had a little chat with Raven, Winter, and Resolute, and decided to skip ahead and just ask them what they thought of the conversion process.   Aaand?   Results, were mixed, you see.   Raven, Raven’s a bit unsure, said it’s unnecessary at times, but eventually said it was for the best of Dimitri and Private Croft.   Winter agreed fullheartedly to the process, no doubt. She was the one who suggested it, after all.   Resolute…disagreed with it. He said they should’ve let them die. In hindsight, this was, oh God, for the better.   Our discussion was interrupted when Dimitri and James emerged in their new bodies   Dimitri was huge, not as big as that injured pony I saw back In London, but huge nonetheless. His first reaction to seeing me was to scoop me up in a big, all crushing hug. I think the potion turned him into a pony shaped teddy bear of hugs. James was smaller than him, kinda small there. Bit, bit meek if you asked me. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Sergeant Winson tense up, so did his men, a bit.   Doctor Hoffman assured us he’ll be keeping an eye on the two newfoals as they adjusted to the ship, and will introduce them to the other newfoals we already had on board.   And then, and then Ana sat right beside me as we heard Hoffman’s announcement. For the first time in forever, I actually saw some kind of, I, I don’t know, fear perhaps? In her eyes, I could see that odd feeling in her. The fact that she grasped my left hoof as we heard Hoffman didn’t help matters.   Life in the ship, went back to normal, for a given value of normal, at least. We still had WMDs on board, the SAS were escorted everywhere they went, weapons confiscated, and Dimitri and James, those newfoals, never, never connected with us the same again.   How so?   I, I can’t say. I mean, they look like a pony, but when you know someone as a human for so long, it…feels uncanny. Doc Hoffman and Sgt. Winson agreed subconsciously with my sentiment there. I, I don’t know.   In the week, the week before Queen Celestia declared war, Doc Hoffman offered me to help him on a research project. Something he’s been working on for a while before the whole mess of London happened.   Hold up, Stellar, do you feel comfortable right now?   Sorry?   Stellar, I can tell you’re not really, really comfy talking about this. I’ll give you some time off   …I-I don’t-   Stop. Trust me on this, you need some time off for a bit.   But, ho-   A friend of mine taught me to read people. Now, please, Stellar, take the time off for now. Please?   …alright. T-thanks, Molly, I appreciate it.   Not a big deal, but you’re welcome! Now, let’s get some coffee you and me, righ’? Heard Andrew’s making some for tonight. He is?! Oh thankyouthankyou! Oh damn I love his coffee, hey did you know that…   *click*   END SEGMENT TWO RELATED FILES:   >Battle on the Mamayev Kurgan >Bruce-Partington Program >Unified Intelligence Defense Network (UNIDENT) >Saxon-BP Class Missile System >Hoffman Logs