//------------------------------// // Red Comet // Story: Red Comet // by Aragem //------------------------------// Twilight Sparkle adjusted the telescope, carefully angling it toward the west.  She consulted her star chart which was old, the ink faded from years of perusal by previous stargazers so it was handled with the utmost care.  Tonight was the night, she was certain of it.  The Folley Comet passed Equestria once every hundred years and Twilight Sparkle was determined to watch its passing tonight.     “Are you sure you need all of these?”  Spike groaned as he carried a stack of books and scrolls, so high his head was hidden and only his legs could be seen. “I have to double check my calculations.  If I’m wrong, then I’ll miss the comet and I won’t get another chance to see it again for the next hundred years.”  Twilight Sparkle nudged the lens upward with her nose.  “And we can use the books to help adjust the telescope.  Put a few volumes under the front leg of the stand.” As Spike knelt by the telescope, Twilight stared up at the star speckled sky.  It was a deep thrill that she was going to gaze a passing centuries old visitor as it makes its eternal journey across the heavens.   “So when is this star supposed to fall?”  Spike grunted as he leaned against the box where he had set the scrolls and extra astronomy books.  His eyelids were half lowered, as if he would drop into a sleep right then.  He had been ready to drop into a deep sleep in his bed basket until Twilight Sparkle announced they would be stargazing for a passing comet. “It’s not a star, Spike, it’s a comet.”  Twilight peeked through the eyepiece to make sure it was aimed at the right constellation.  She adjusted it just a bit more before she was satisfied.  “Perfect.  Take a look.  Spike?  Spike . . . ?” A dull snore answered her and sure enough, Spike had drifted off to sleep, curled on his side with his tail tucked against his stomach.  Twilight shook her head with a smile and resumed viewing the stars.  It was a shame her friends wouldn’t be here to enjoy this with her, but by the time she realized that tonight was the night; it was already too late to invite them.  They were likely asleep in their homes and she hated to wake them for something that they may not be interested in.   She remembered reading that the comet was an icy blue color with a white tail . . . yet for some reason, the object that appeared was bright red with a long tail that ended with an orange tip.  And it was coming from the complete opposite direction.  And above all, Twilight realized that she was able to see it without the telescope.  She lifted her head and looked upward, watching the brilliant arch.  The comet slashed in an arch across the sky as an ugly wound and its trajectory was the Evergreen Forest. She expected many things, a large explosion, earth and trees tossed into the sky while the surrounding foliage was bowled over from the force of impact.  None of that happened.  Instead, the comet eased past the tree tops and emanated a bright crimson hue and snuffed out.  Twilight Sparkle stared at the spot where the glow had been so hard it made her eyes water.  She blinked several times and then tried to resume watching, however, she wasn’t sure if she was looking in the right spot.  The tree cover was thick and the darkness hid the details of where the comet landed.       Twilight wondered if she actually saw it.  She wanted nothing more than to head out to the forest and see the red comet up close, but she understood that daring the Evergreen Forest alone was quite dangerous, especially at night.  It was better to wait until morning and speak to her friends about it.  While Twilight Sparkle made her plans, overhead the Folley Comet was passing.       “Commander, the Heller has landed on Planet BT35.  No enemy forces detected.”  A female voice carried as soft linen in a darken room.  In the center, a large orange hologram image of a spiral galaxy cast a dim glow.  In the upper spiral arm, a red tag pinpointed a specific dot labeled BT35. “Just because we don’t detect them, doesn’t mean they aren’t there.  It could mean that they have developed better cloaking technology.”  A second voice spoke in tight clipped tone.  “Until we have a 100 percent certainty that they aren’t here, I advise we handle this mission as if we are in enemy territory.” “I disagree.  Scouts and probes have been through this cluster many times.  The Javians haven’t reached this far yet; their attentions are elsewhere keeping their supply routes safe.  We can’t waste time hiding from a threat that isn’t there.” “If precautions aren’t taken, then we stand to lose more than we hope to gain.” “If we don’t trust our scouts’ reports, then what’s the point of sending them anywhere?” “Enough.”  The third voice carried thickly in the darkness.  It carried enough authority to halt the bickering and both dissidents held their silence in respect.  The glow revealed a pair of hands with slender fingers lace together where a chin rested on them.  “Both sides have made valid points and here is my decision.  In the morning, the drones will scout and collect samples.  I’ll decide what our next move is depending upon what they bring back.”      In the midst of the thickest part of the Evergreen Forest, there was a clearing where an Ursa Major had pulled up trees for a nest days before giving birth to an Ursa Minor.  To any naked eye, it was a simple clearing devoid of trees.  Except, if one with sharp eyes looked closely, it would notice that any leaves tossed by the wind never quite make it across the clearing.  The leaves would halt as if pinned against a surface that isn’t there before falling when the wind released them.  A bird that had been swooping down to grab a worm had smacked into an invisible barrier and then plummeted to the grass in a pile of feathers and wings. A gray circle appeared in the empty air, and then whirled open revealing a dark shaft.  And from this shaft, grey spheres nearly the size of a pony with a single optical lens floated from with no apparent wings or anything that could pinpoint their source of flight.  Five orbs formed a ring and received instructions via radio before their stealth system kicked in.  They vanished save for the ring of round shadows on the grass.  Then the shadows spread apart and zipped across the grass, going off in different directions.       Ponyville greeted the morning with it usual bustle of civility and life.  The ponies began about their daily routines; the shopkeepers opened their shops, the gardeners tended to their flowers and crops, and foals headed off to the schoolhouse.  Most ponies sent up a small prayer of thanks to Princess Celestia for bringing the sun to warm and brighten their day.   Shadows crossed the grassy knoll toward the bustling town.  The shades on the grass were oblong and the overhead source could not be seen by the naked eye.  Just as they reached the outer edge of the town, they separated, going in different directions. One shadow coasted along the cobble street.  A stallion with a ragged mane was sitting at a café dining table with a small bowl of sugar cubes.  He casually tossed one in the air and caught it in his mouth.  And as he tossed up the second one, his mouth opened to catch the small white treat, a shadow passed over his face.  No sugar cube landed on his tongue.  He opened one eye and looked up, but there was no sugar cube to be seen. The shadow coasted away from the café, cataloguing its first sample.  It made its way toward a tall round building with splendid décor.  It slipped in through an open window and into a large room draped in fine cloth and dresses.  A large white cat who had been snapping on the edge of a wardrobe opened one eye.  Opal watched the shade on the floor circle the room, even passing her oblivious owner who was busy at her sewing machine.  Rarity’s red eyeglasses perched on her nose, reflecting the tediously stitch work on the skirt, not noticing the shade moving across her work table, mere inches from her foreleg. A gemstone disappear as the shade passed over it and then a set of needles from round pincushion sitting at the corner of the worktable.  She meowed loudly as she hopped down from her tall perch, her tail high and her nose in the air. “Quiet, Opal.  Mama has to concentrate.”  Rarity reached for the pin cushion, but her hoof found nothing.  “Oh dear, now where did I put that pin cushion?”   Rarity left the table, looking this way and that looking for the red ball of pins.  The shade moved across the half-finished skirt.   Opal’s eyes widen in fear as a long metal arm with a menacing claw grasped the cloth.  With a soft rip, a piece was torn free leaving behind a ragged hole in the exquisite material.  The piece was carried up and disappeared along with the claw into empty air . Opal backed up with a frightful mew as the shadow turned to her.  A line of red light dashed across her puffed form and the shadow approached her.  Opal backed up, putting her rear against the wall, her back arching sharply as she hissed. “I know, darling, it’s frustrating when you can’t find something you need!”  Rarity said.  Her head was in a chest looking for the lost pincushion. Opal spat as the shadow rushed her.  A sharp rip and high pitched yowl caused Rarity to bang her head on the edge of the chest.  She rubbed her head gingerly, mindful of her mane.  “Opal, what is the commotion all about?” Opal was clinging to the ceiling with all four claws, quivering in sheer terror, and her puffed tail was nearly as thick as a baseball bat.  Her ribbon and the fur were missing from her scalp.  Rarity stomped a hoof, “Opal, come down here this instant!  Stop being silly.” Rarity’s eyes caught the gaping hole in the dress that she had spent all night working on.  “Opalescence!  What have you done!?” The shade slipped out through the window, cataloguing cat hair and ribbon fibers.