The rolling hills at the foot of Canterlot Mountain were silent save for the wind blowing through the grass. Further up around the mountain’s far side, the city of Canterlot slept. Not even the chirping of crickets sounded out that night, but then again, it was probably too cold. Princess Celestia barely felt the cold, her inherent connection to the sun keeping her warm even in the dark of night. The others around her, however, did not share such advantages.
The adolescent unicorn mare to her right shivered a bit as she drew her cloak tighter around herself. Celestia couldn’t help but smile as the young mare then pulled out a notebook and brought a quill to bear, eagerly checking the sky as she flipped to a blank page.
“As much as I appreciate your academic enthusiasm, do try to spend some of tonight socializing with our guests, my faithful student,” Celestia chided. Nevertheless, the look she gave was filled with warmth.
Sunset Shimmer looked up at her mentor with a start, and a tint of red filled her cheeks as she glanced down at the notebook before her. “With all due respect, Your Highness, documentation is an important part of any scientific endeavor.” At the Princess’s look, Sunset amended, “But... I suppose I could put my notes away after initial contact has been made.”
Celestia smiled. “Good. Although, this does bring me to another issue I’ve been meaning to address. I haven’t seen you in the company of your friends for a very long time now. Flash and the others have been asking about you.”
“I just… have been really busy with my studies lately,” Sunset said, looking downcast as her voice took on a barely perceptible bitter tone. “Since you rejected my proposal for the castle security matrix, I’ve been struggling to come up with something new for a final project….”
“Sunset, you know that proposal raised many ethical concerns.” Celestia gave her student a reassuring smile, tilting Sunset’s head up to meet her eyes with a gentle hoof below her chin. “However, you have my every confidence that you’ll come up with something even better… just so long as you remember to leave your room once in a while!”
Her student returned her smile with a mischievous one of her own. “Y’know, it was my decision to stay in and work on my astronomy that led to this discovery in the first place.”
Celestia remembered the night not too long ago when she was awoken by the sound of her student arguing vigorously with the guards outside her door, claiming to have made the most important discovery in equine history. Sure enough, her young student led her to the astronomy tower immediately, babbling on about first contact scenarios and things that Celestia’s sleep-ridden mind had initially dismissed as nonsense. When she looked through the observatory’s giant telescope and saw only stars, Celestia had nearly called Sunset Shimmer’s sanity into question and had been ready to send her student to her bedchamber. Momentarily terrified, Sunset had retaken control of the telescope and searched the sky until she again found what she had been searching for, and then Celestia had seen it too.
Sitting right in the middle of the telescope’s lens was what appeared to be a star where no star ought to have been. It blinked in place unlike any other in the night sky, and according to Sunset, it had actually moved from where she’d originally found it. The following week had seen extensive research into the apparent UFO, during which Celestia tried reaching it with her magic and sensed signals coming from it. It was when she tried to tap into the signals that she found herself making contact with the apparent aliens - a being that called itself simply “Director.” She had been most eager to meet them, and it would seem Director felt the same. That was why they were waiting in the secluded fields beyond Canterlot’s eye under the cover of night.
“Princess!” Celestia’s thoughts were interrupted by the lookout, who was posted on a rocky ledge along the side of the mountain. The armored pegasus stallion collapsed the spyglass in his hooves as he pointed to the western horizon. “They’re here!”
Looking to where the stallion was pointing, Celestia saw a set of lights in the distance. At a glance, one couldn’t be faulted for mistaking them for stars, but the princess knew better.
“Captain, commence Operation: Red Carpet,” Celestia ordered.
Her captain saluted before barking orders at the ponies under his command. The armored ponies scrambled to their positions, forming a wide path between two single file lines. Each one of them quickly removed a large red gemstone that had been previously enchanted. When the soldiers placed their stones on the ground where they stood and gave them a firm tap, the stones lit up, glowing a bright red. The setup was completed within seconds of Celestia giving the order, and the soldiers retreated to their formations around the princess.
A runway of slowly pulsating red lights now sat in front of them, ready to guide the approaching alien craft to a safe descent. The whine of technology the likes of which the ponies had never seen began to overtake the silence of the night as the ship drew closer. Soon the vessel was upon them. Celestia felt young Sunset tense up and a few of the guards take an uneasy step back as it flew down the runway, slowing to a stop in the air front of them. Even the blades of grass quivered and tried to flee as the ship hovered in place.
Its engines now deafening, the ship slowly rotated in place, and Celestia couldn’t help but be reminded of a large sea mammal with its large metal fins and tail. Only when it was fully turned away from them did the ship finally set down, cutting its engines and returning the field to silence once more. Celestia glanced up at the night sky and saw a star that shouldn’t be there, confirming what she already knew: the ship in front of them was not the same one they spied through the telescope. It was akin to a mere lifeboat on a massive sea liner.
The collective breath of the gathered ponies was sucked out of the air when a section under the “tail” of the ship began to open, lowering a ramp. Celestia hadn’t quite been sure what to expect upon meeting the aliens—these so-called “humans”—but the tall, two-legged creatures that emerged were a shock to see. Covered top to bottom in what appeared to be highly advanced powered armor, the human soldiers dwarfed the guardsponies she’d brought with her. Even she was barely at eye level with them as they formed two rows at either side of the ship’s entrance.
Beside her, young Sunset Shimmer was already furiously scribbling notes. Celestia grinned and took a moment to study the humans for herself. Their complex armor apparently came in many colors and variations. Two of them wore orchid and purple respectively with green detail. Another was a dirty yellow with bits of gray. There were brown, blue, and white soldiers as well. Lastly, one with gray armor and a yellow stripe on its helmet seemed to be looking at her with childlike wonder.
“It’s rude to stare, Wash!” the one wearing faded yellow chided, gently smacking the gray soldier in the arm.
“At attention now, people!” a firm, authoritative female voice shouted, and the gathered soldiers stood up straight and stiff as another soldier wearing cyan armor emerged from the ship.
She was not alone. Beside her were two more humans, but these ones were different. While the others were completely covered in armor, these ones seemed to wear no armor at all. They were dressed in gray and black uniforms, and the soldiers around them noticeably tensed as they passed. The first one had slightly wrinkled beige-tan skin, with glasses and black hair on his head and face. The one beside him had dark skin, and appeared to have no hair at all. He was holding some kind of black tablet, and appeared to be recording information with it just as fervently as Sunset Shimmer.
When the humans stopped in front of her, Celestia decided to take initiative and took a step forward. “Greetings. I am Princess Celestia, Warden of the Sun and Ruler of the Three Pony Tribes,” she said, gesturing with her head to the two ponies beside her. “This is my Guard Captain, Argent Lance, and my protègè, Sunset Shimmer.” Sunset smiled nervously from behind her notebook as Celestia followed up with a friendly smile. “Welcome to Equestria.”
The older man nodded, giving a respectful bow—but not too low, Celestia noted. “Thank you,” he said, speaking in a deep, smooth voice with an accent resembling that of upper-class ponies from the South. “I am the Director of Project Freelancer: Doctor Leonard Church. It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Princess,” he then raised an arm to the soldier in cyan armor to his left. “This here is my Number One: Agent Carolina.”
The soldier nodded, and the Director moved on to the other man without armor. “And this is my right hand man: the Counselor of Project Freelancer.”
“Yes,” the Counselor spoke in an unnaturally soft monotone, “my name is….”
“Unimportant,” the Director said, cutting him off. “While I look forward to beginning good relations between our two peoples, I’m sure you remember what we discussed about why we came to this planet in the first place.”
Celestia remembered that detail and nodded. The idea of something so ancient existing in Equestria that even she didn’t know about after all of these years was exciting. “Yes. You’ll have to teach us everything you know about these ‘Forerunners’ if we’re to help you uncover what they left behind here.”
The Director smiled. “Just so long as you teach us everything you can about this ‘Equestrian magic.’ You must understand: as a man of science, I was skeptical when you first told me about it.”
The Princess returned his smile. “Trust me, I’m sure you’ll find it as mundane as we do after spending enough time with us here.” It was hard to believe that a race with no magical ability whatsoever was able to advance so far technologically. Then again, it was probably because of their lack of magic that such was possible. Necessity is, after all, the mother of invention.
Wordlessly, the two of them agreed to turn and walk toward the sky wagons Celestia had waiting to discreetly take them back to the castle, their respective entourages following close behind. She and the Director had both agreed that it was for the best that the Equestrian public should be kept in the dark about the humans’ existence until enough could be learned about them to make a proper announcement. It wouldn’t do to prematurely reveal the existence of aliens to the public until any and all potential questions could be answered. Damage preemption was yet another aspect of being a politician that Celestia didn’t care for.
“I must admit, discovering new sapient life was the last thing we expected when we traced the old Forerunner signal to this planet,” the Director said as they walked. “My people have already begun planning how best to track down those ruins, but I figured we would do so faster with your assistance. The ball is, as they say, in your court.”
“I’m sure my protègè will be of great help in that regard,” Celestia said, grinning down at her student. “Besides, what better way for her to return to her friendship lessons?”
Sunset looked up at her mentor and gave her an uneasy smile as the Counselor fell into step beside her. “Perhaps you and I should compare notes?” he suggested. “Help fill in some of the information in our observations of each other.”
Unable to contain her unbridled enthusiasm, Sunset Shimmer grinned widely as she climbed into a sky wagon with the Counselor.
Only much later would Celestia realize the mistake she’d made in suggesting that.
She climbed into another, much larger, sky wagon and the Director soon followed. Once they were alone, the Princess finally felt able to ask him something that was on her mind. Something that if her theory was correct, could prove to be the answer to her plight.
“Director, I must ask: Did you bring… him with you?”
The Director frowned. “Technically, his very existence is classified; not even my top soldiers know about him. The fact that you do is merely a fluke... you picked a lucky moment to tap into our signal.”
Celestia’s easy smile started to shrink as she thought for a moment that the Director was not going to let her see what she had been so eager to observe. However, the man then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, flat square object with a glowing round center.
“However, I see no reason not to indulge the curiosity of another brilliant mind,” the Director said with a friendly smile before looking down at the chip in his hand. “This right here is my pride and joy. Say hello, Alpha.”
In a flash of light, a tiny, spectral, cobalt blue figure appeared in the air between them wearing the same kind of armor as the soldiers outside.
“Hey there… crazy… horse-lady…” it said in a refreshingly casual tone.
“Hello, Alpha,” Celestia greeted, looking down with a wide grin at the little A.I. floating just above the Director’s palm. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve met someone like you.”
The A.I. stretched and brought his hands behind his head. “Yeah, well… I don’t like to brag, but I’m pretty awesome!”
To think, these humans have created technology functioning on the same principles as their most advanced ancient magic. What was more, they perfected it. These “A.I.s” did not possess any of the problems that the M.I.s of old once did. At least, not until they reached the end of their seven-year lifespan. If she could just learn their secrets….
The Director smiled. “Yes, I have a feeling the three of us will accomplish extraordinary things together.”
Extraordinary things. They were going to need extraordinary things if she hoped to correct the mistakes she made so many years ago….
The sounds of crashing and muttered curses caused Simmons to awake with a start. “Augh! I wasn’t watching World of Whorecraft again, Mom! Get out of my room!”
After a few moments, the maroon man’s senses returned, and he remembered that he was sleeping on a bed of hay. He glanced around at the various farm tools and stirring pigs before his eyes finally settled on the source of the disturbance. Grif was holding a toe on one of his feet and muttering in annoyance as he stood over an overturned barrel with large red apples strewn all over the ground.
“Why do we even fucking bother with powered armor if stubbing my toe still hurts like a…?” Grif muttered as he carefully stepped around the spilled apples. Whether it was out of interest in preserving the edibility of something he could eat later, or because he knew Applejack would kill him if he crushed any of her produce, Simmons couldn’t say.
The barn was still pitch black, and looking out the window, Simmons could see the moon shining brightly in the night sky. Checking the clock on his HUD, Simmons saw the time was one in the morning.
“Isn’t it a little late for your third midnight snack?” Simmons snarked.
“Go back to sleep, asshole.”
With a tired yawn, Simmons was about to do exactly that when he noticed the barn door was slightly ajar despite the fact that he’d shut it just before quite literally hitting the hay. He then remembered that at that time, neither Sarge nor Grif had returned to their appointed quarters on the farmstead. A glance around the barn confirmed that Sarge wasn’t there, but from what he said the other day, Simmons wasn’t surprised. Still, something didn’t seem right.
“Are you just getting back now?” Simmons asked. “What have you been doing all night?”
“Nothing!” Grif said immediately. “I was doing… manly things. Like, uh, chopping wood. Or, uh… oh! Punching kittens!”
“What? That can’t be right,” Simmons said, folding his arms. “Both of those things would require work.”
“Yeah….”
As Grif walked past and started making a spot in the hay to sleep in, Simmons noticed he was clutching what looked like a metal necklace in his hand. “What’s that you’ve got there?”
It seemed a while before Grif figured out what Simmons was referring to. He briefly glanced down at the object in his hands before suddenly looking away, like someone who’d stared at the sun for too long. “Nothing!” Grif answered again. This time his voice was quiet and strained, as fragile and ready to burst as the barrel of apples he’d knocked over. “Just… don’t worry about it.”
That was when Simmons remembered the circumstances of when they last saw each other. “Oh… this is about Sister, isn’t it?” Grif’s silence was the only answer Simmons needed. The man in maroon stood up and moved closer to Grif. “Look… I’m sorry you had to find out like that, man. That was a dick move on Sarge’s part.”
“Really? You think?” The biting sarcasm in Grif’s voice was like poison.
“Listen Grif, I know we don’t always get along….”
“You don’t say?”
“...but I think that we’ve worked together long enough to consider each other friends… more or less.”
Grif’s nod was dripping with as much sarcasm as his words. “Yeah. Friends that insult each other, and generally hate the very fiber of their being. Isn’t it just magic?”
“Hey asshole, I know you’re upset and all, but could you at least have the fucking decency to shut up and let me talk to you for a second. I’m doing this for your benefit, okay?” When Grif didn’t respond, Simmons took it as a sign to continue. “The fact is—whether you believe it or not—I’m your friend. And friends help each other through shit like this. And yes, you do have friends. Me, Donut, that yellow pony that seems to like you, even Sarge—even though he’d never admit it—we’re all here for you, man.”
Simmons gave Grif a pat on the shoulder. “So if you ever need anything. Y’know… just ask.” Simmons let go and moved back to his own sleeping area. “It’s at least a better way to handle it than being a dick and pushing everyone away.”
With his piece said, Simmons lay back down and closed his eyes. He didn’t hear Grif do the same, but he did hear the sound of rustling paper. The peaceful moment was suddenly interrupted by what sounded like rap music blaring across the apple orchards.
Crickets chirped as a half-awake Applejack groped her way through the dark apple orchard. Her lids hung precariously over her eyes, threatening to return her to the land of dreams with the rest of Equestria. In truth, she was a heavy enough sleeper that the infernal racket out in the fields hadn’t bothered her in the slightest. Applebloom though, was another story. The filly had to jump up on Applejack’s bed to rouse her, informing her big sister of what sounded like a full construction project taking place in their orchard, along with some music full of words that the filly probably shouldn’t be hearing. So it was with a sigh and a tired yawn that Applejack had vacated her bed to find the source of the noise keeping her family awake.
It didn’t take long for Applejack to find it. Nestled between a few of her apple trees was a familiar human dropship. The source of the noise was one of the humans who had ridden it in many days ago.
“Now be careful, Lopez. I don’ want ya to break it again.”
“¿Yo? Tú eres el que se estrelló la nave para hacer una entrada dramática (Me? You’re the one who crashed it just to make a dramatic entrance).”
“It’s okay, Lopez. There’s no shame in making mistakes from time to time! It’s what makes us human.”
“Pero yo soy un robot, estúpido hombre (But I’m a robot, you stupid man)!”
“Sarge?” Applejack’s voice was tired and, appropriately, a little hoarse, but it reached the ears of the Red sergeant and the mechanical mechanic. “What’re ya doin’ out here?”
“Oh, hey there, AJ,” Sarge said, climbing down from the step ladder he had beside one of the ship’s engines. “Lopez and I are jus’ tryin’ to see if we can fix the ship I used to get here the first time.” At the sound of an agitated groan, Applejack looked down to see a pair of brown armored legs sticking out from beneath the ship’s belly. “It’s actually completely flyable,” Sarge continued, “but I wanted to give it hydraulics so it can bounce when I play my tunes!”
Sarge pointed a remote at the ship and pressed a button, and all of a sudden the vessel’s headlights started flashing as it slowly began moving up and down in a rhythmic way. All the while, aggressive, thuggish music reminiscent of the stuff Pinkie Pie listened to when she thought nopony was around started to play at a volume that brought Applejack’s hooves over her ears.
“EACH AND EVERY DAY I BE TALKIN’ THAT SHIT.
TALKIN’ THAT SHIT.
TALKIN’ THAT SHIT….”
Sarge pressed the button again and the ship was still and silent once more. “I don’t think we have the tempo right just yet.”
“Ignorado el hecho de que el sistema hidráulico no funcionan en el aire (Ignoring the fact that hydraulics don’t work in the air),” Lopez added.
Applejack just gave an exhausted sigh and looked tiredly up at the man in red. “Sarge… it’s the middle of the night. Folks ‘round here need to sleep. You need to sleep.”
“Can’t sleep. Sherry and Cluckles keep insisting on takin’ up as much room in the coup as possible!”
Applejack tilted her head. “Yer not… actually sleepin’ in the chicken coup, are ya?”
“Well, I tried. That’s why I’m out here!”
Applejack sighed, knowing full well what direction this conversation was going to take. “We have plenty of room in the barn if ya wanna git some shut eye….”
“No!” Sarge exclaimed, whirling around to face her. “I ain’t sharin’ space with any two-timin’, no good, back-talkin’, job stealin’ son o’ a bitch!”
“I don’ rightly know why ya can still be so mad at Grif,” Applejack’s look hardened. “‘Specially after the stunt you pulled, seems kinda hypocrit... hippo… dumb to try to claim the high ground!”
“Now look here, missy! Callin’ Grif lazy and worthless is somethin’ I do all the time! It’s been our dynamic fer years! Why break the goddamn streak?”
“That’s fine. I can understand indulgin’ in a little banter from time to time,” Applejack said placatingly. “Heck, one of my best friends an’ I fight all the time. Don’ get me wrong: I love Rares to death and deeply value her as a friend, but sometimes her frou-frouiness really grates on my nerves!” Applejack gave Sarge a steady look. “That bein’ said, I’m at least pony enough to admit when I’m in the wrong, and am real proud of Rares whenever she does somethin’ good. Why can’t you do the same with Grif?”
“Because Grif’s never done somethin’ good!”
“Sounds to me like that ain’t so true anymore.” When Sarge only replied by tightening his already curled fists, Applejack pressed harder. “I could understand your dislike of Grif initially, when he was just a lazy good fer nothin’ ijit. But now that he’s actually tryin’ to prove himself, yer still puttin’ him down! Why?”
“Because he doesn’t deserve it!” Sarge exclaimed. It seemed as if the late hour was finally taking its toll on him, as he tossed his shotgun to the ground and sat against the ship. “I’ve wanted to be a military leader ever since I first thought about joinin’ when I was a boy. I spent years workin’ my way up the ranks an’ actually came close to taking leadership of my own squad of ODSTs: some of the best the UNSC has to offer.
“I would’ve made commander, but I kept making mistakes in the training simulations. Little things like not calibrating the drop pods correctly, but those little things added up. Before I knew it, I was transferred from my squad into this experimental ‘Freelancer’ program. I was excited at first; I heard their agents were getting top of the line stuff. Thing was, I wasn’t brought in to become an agent. Nope! Instead I was left in charge of backwater base after backwater base, commanding squads of barely trained and under equipped Red soldiers in an unexplained war with the Blues.
“It seemed ludicrous to think they were wasting my talents fighting an army that was just as incompetent as the Reds I was leading. No, those dirty Blues had to be dangerous! They had to be one of the biggest threats to the galaxy.” Sarge’s normally gruff voice almost seemed to tremble as he continued, “It was either that, or they were tossin’ me aside because they think I’m worthless, b-but… that can’t be the truth… can it?”
Applejack scratched her head. “Course not, Sarge. Yer great at, uh… whatever it is y’all in the army do! I mean, I’m not a military pony myself, but I always believe in risin’ to the occasion when duty calls, and from what I can tell, so do you.”
Sarge paused, seeming to consider Applejack’s words. “Still, even after all these years fightin’ the Blues, I never once made it past sergeant… an’ now, I’m not even that….” Sarge’s posture sank and the once proud soldier’s voice took on a morose tone. “So you tell me: How the hell did I work my whole life to achieve nothin’, when Grif got everything I ever wanted without doin’ anythin’ to earn it?”
Applejack sat down beside Sarge, quietly studying the curled up ball of red armor. If there was one pony who could appreciate the fruits of hard honest work, it was her. The fact that someone could spend their whole life working towards something and never reach it was a concept that she didn’t want to believe. It just didn’t seem right. However, there was one aspect of Sarge’s story that she wasn’t so sure about.
“If Grif really led a successful op against Project Freelancer, he must’ve done somethin’ right,” she said.
Sarge looked up from the ground and turned toward her. Applejack looked at him with sympathy. “I know it must be difficult to work so hard all yer life an’ have nothin’ to show for it. I don’ blame you at all fer bein’ upset about that. But that don’ give ya the right to put down the people who’ve worked hard an’ have made it.”
When she heard the sound of crickets chirping clearly around them, Applejack realized the orchard had returned to its usual silence. With her job done, Applejack yawned and stood up to head back to the farmhouse, but not before saying one final piece.
“An’ who knows? Maybe if’n ya treat the people who made it a little more nicely, ya might actually make it yerself!”
Celestia spoke, and Twilight listened. The wasteland that was Canterlot was an ill-defined blur around them; a mere backdrop long since forgotten by both dreamers. They were too focused on their conversation for visions of what could be to matter. Celestia spoke of the early days of contact between ponies and humans. Things had started off well, Celestia and the Director formed a true friendship over the months. They spent much time sharing their cultures, history, and technology while Sunset Shimmer and the Director’s top men searched high and low for the Forerunner ruins.
“Over the following months, Sunset Shimmer grew more distant as she spent more time in the company of the Counselor and the Freelancers. All the while, the Forerunner ruins proved to be elusive,” Celestia explained. “At the same time, the Director grew more… withdrawn. After a while, he stopped letting me see Alpha, and updates on the progress of the search for the ruins from both him and Sunset Shimmer became more scarce.
“You may or may not already know this, but at the time, Project Freelancer was in the midst of a long and destructive civil war with the human Insurrection.”
“Trust me, Princess, I’ve become pretty familiar with them in our travels,” Twilight said with a bitter edge to her tone. They’d put Rarity through a pretty harrowing experience, and that was something she couldn’t forgive.
Celestia simply nodded. “Yes. From what Washington told me, the conflict has since cooled significantly. Project Freelancer has pushed the Insurrection to the brink of defeat, and even with the Leader’s survival, they never fully recovered. But back then, the Insurrection was still a very big threat, and the Director and his forces would often have to leave Equestria for months at a time to fight them.
“One day, the Director returned and things were… different. Suddenly, there were half a dozen other A.I.s that seemed to spring up from nowhere. Yet Alpha wasn’t anywhere to be found. And still, Sunset Shimmer and Project Freelancer’s forces had reported no sign of the ruins they were searching for. It was when I received a secret message from one of the Director’s own agents warning me of his deception that I knew I had to get to the bottom of this.
“So when the Director next left Equestria to deliver the coup de gras to the Insurrection, I decided to act. Utilizing special potions shipped from Zebrica and a bit of alicorn magic, I was able to actually witness much of Project Freelancer’s past.” Celestia looked down, seeming exhausted by the mere memory of that time. “I must have spent weeks in my chambers, going through potion after potion. Memory after memory. Sifting through so many moments and conversations through the course of Project Freelancer’s lifespan, and trying to piece it all together. Then one day, I discovered it... I learned exactly what they were doing to poor Alpha. I saw it with my own eyes!”
The princess shut her eyes for a moment as the very world around them twisted and morphed. Hundreds of scenes from a world that was simultaneously alien and familiar to Twilight played at once. With a few forceful shakes of Celestia’s head, they drifted off into the background with everything else.
“I spent the days after preparing for Project Freelancer’s return to Equestria. Preparing to confront the Director on everything he was doing. But the Director never came back.” Celestia gave a sad smile and a single chuckle. “According to Washington, it was because a few of the Freelancers also figured out what the Director was doing and attempted a break-in that ended with his flagship’s near destruction. It’s funny... I had always hoped something just like that was what kept him from returning all these years. But somehow, I knew the Director would return one day.”
Celestia looked around at the burning ruins of Canterlot as they momentarily grew clearer around them. “But I never expected this. Even when we first met I sensed a certain… darkness in Dr. Church’s heart. We truly did become close friends for a time. I told him about Luna, and he in turn told me about the woman he lost. That loss had driven him very close to the precipice of madness, as it had me once, and I tried to help him through it as best I could. But evidently, it wasn’t enough.
“Still, threatening me… threatening a whole city full of innocent ponies… it’s beyond anything I ever thought him capable of.” Celestia forced herself to look away from the wasteland around her as her gaze grew distant and sad. “When he contacted me a few days ago, I hardly even recognized him….”
Although it disheartened Twilight to see her beloved mentor overtaken by such melancholy, the story she told restored a bit of hope in the young unicorn’s waning image of her. Indeed, if what Celestia said was true, then that which had Twilight so worried was not.
“So… you really didn’t know about what they were doing to Alpha?” Twilight asked hopefully. “You had nothing to do with it?”
Celestia looked back down at Twilight, and all at once the look of melancholy on the Princess’s face was replaced by a worried frown. It was a look a pony only had when they had to say something they really did not want to, and it filled Twilight with dread.
“Twilight, there’s something you must understand before I reveal what I’m about to tell you…” Celestia paused, her always regal, always well-spoken mentor seeming unable to find the right words. Twilight’s ears folded and her heart sank. This was not the look of an innocent mare. “Do you know why M.I.s were made forbidden in Equestria one thousand years ago?”
“Because they were unstable? Creating artificial constructs based on real ponies’ minds with the level of arcane knowledge that existed at the time could not have been safe!” Twilight answered.
“That’s right. While human Smart A.I.s like Alpha only turn Rampant after seven years, M.I.s are born Rampant,” Celestia said. “However, there was one event that made me realize once and for all that we were not ready to use such powerful magic.
“You see, many years ago Equestria was a nation in turmoil. We had just ended a brutal war with the Crystal Empire and its tyrant king, and the economy was in a huge recession. It was for that reason that my sister created an M.I. of her own to assist her in her duties. Based on her own mind, the M.I. was called Night Mare. For a time, Night Mare served Luna well, but as you may know, my sister was harboring strong feelings of jealousy and resentment towards me during that time.
“I learned far too late that Night Mare had inherited those traits. But without Luna’s own memories of growing up with me—without that emotional attachment, there was nothing keeping Night Mare’s ambition in check. That was the first time anypony learned that some M.I.s were capable of storing themselves inside of a pony’s mind; just like Omega had done to Pinkie Pie. I’m sure you can figure out what happened next.”
“Nightmare Moon…” Twilight gasped.
“Yes. In the final decades leading up to Nightmare Moon’s return from banishment, I knew I had to learn as much about artificial constructs as I could. I needed to find a way to extract Night Mare from Luna’s mind. I wanted to save her, but I didn’t think the Elements of Harmony could do that until you used them that fateful night.”
“Really?” Twilight asked. “But… didn’t you send me to Ponyville specifically so that I’d make friends and use the Elements?”
“I did, but by that point I had already given up all hope of saving my sister,” Celestia gave a teary smile. “Having her back that night was the happiest I’ve ever been to be proven wrong,” the Princess cleared her throat, composing herself. “But I digress, it was out of interest in saving Luna that I asked Sunset Shimmer to learn as much as she could about human A.I.s while she assisted Project Freelancer. She followed my instructions… all too well.”
Twilight’s hoof shot over her mouth. “You don’t mean to say she….”
“Yes. She helped them break Alpha,” Celestia sighed. “Naturally, I was furious when I learned that she went behind my back to do something so vile. We fought, and I ultimately dismissed her as my student, but I couldn’t have her arrested or charged. Doing so would have put me in the exact same boat as her.
“For you see, the Director would never have thought to try it without me. During one of our many discussions, the topic of M.I.s came up, and I mentioned in passing that it was once a common practice to ‘split’ the problematic ones; to remove the fragment of their minds causing their Rampancy. I inspired the Director in the worst possible way.”
Celestia looked down, suddenly unable to meet her student’s eyes. “That’s why I’ve been working so hard to keep all of this secret. If word of my involvement was to get out, ponies would lose faith in me. I know of many who would even clamor for my removal from office. And if word reaches the UNSC that I helped the Director commit a war crime of this magnitude… I don’t know what will happen.”
Twilight looked at Celestia with disbelief. “But… you didn’t do anything wrong! You didn’t know!”
“The UNSC Oversight Sub-Committee might not see it that way. While I didn’t know the damage my information would cause, that doesn’t change the fact that I still caused it. Just the same, Sunset Shimmer may have gone against the spirit of what I asked her when she helped them split Alpha, but she was following my orders to the letter when she did so. At the end of the day, the commander must take responsibility for the actions of their troops.”
Twilight stood before Celestia and put on the bravest face she could muster. “If anyone—pony or human—tries to use what Sunset Shimmer did to remove you from office, they’ll have to get through me!”
At that, Celestia couldn’t help but smile a little. “Nice to know you at least still have faith in me. But if you really want to help me, the best way to do so is to stop Project Freelancer from hurting any more people.”
“You’re right,” Twilight said with a nod. “So what do we do? How does this all relate to the Forerunner ruins that are supposed to be in Equestria?”
“Well, it would seem that Sunset Shimmer and the Director were lying to me in their reports. They did find the ruins. If we can find Sunset and the Director’s joint research on them, we can prove that they were working together. Then, we can deliver that information to the Chairman of Oversight and they will shut Project Freelancer down for good.”
“But… what about you?” Twilight asked, her voice cracking as she took a step closer to her mentor. “Won’t that mean they’ll find out about your involvement with the program, too? What if they want you to resign? What if they want you arrested? If you’re right, they could justify going to war over this!”
Celestia nodded grimly. “Perhaps. But we’re already at war with Project Freelancer now. At least this way, we’ll be doing the right thing. As a politician, I will work towards finding a fair compromise with the UNSC when this is over.” Celestia looked down. “And if that means my resignation as Princess, then so be it.”
Twilight didn’t want to even consider an Equestria without Celestia on the throne. It seemed impossible to conceive, and Twilight wanted to fight it with everything she had. But she also trusted her mentor to know what was best. Still, that wasn’t all that had Twilight concerned.
“But… what about the Director’s threat?” she asked a frowning Celestia. “Even if we find these ruins, he might still destroy Canterlot!” The princesses, my parents, Spike… all of them gone.
Celestia just looked at her with grim determination. “Let me worry about Canterlot. What’s important is that you find whatever Sunset Shimmer and Project Freelancer left in the ruins.”
“Okay,” Twilight nodded, taking a deep breath and mustering her resolve. “How do we find the ruins?”
“For starters, we’ll need to narrow down where exactly in Equestria they are. Any thoughts?”
Putting a hoof to her chin, Twilight thought carefully. Celestia smiled, gently encouraging her. Somehow, Twilight felt Celestia already knew the answer. Suddenly, it hit her.
“If these ruins are supposed to be where ponykind was born, that would mean they’re in the Old Kingdoms! Where the Three Tribes lived before Unification! Which puts them...”
“In the Frozen North. Very good,” Celestia smiled. “But the Frozen North is a very big place, and I don’t know anything more about the ruins’ location. But there was somepony who did. Unfortunately, this pony is no longer with us, but he left all of his research behind for us to use. Perhaps you saw it? I sent it to you just the other day.”
“You did?” Twilight asked. She then remembered the mysterious stack of books waiting for her when she returned to Golden Oaks.
“Yes. Although this pony never did find the ruins he was after, he did come considerably close to finding them well before the Director and Project Freelancer ever appeared in our world. I have no doubt that if you study his notes carefully, you just might find a clue that he missed.”
“Got it!” Twilight said with a nod.
“And there’s one more thing I want to tell you before you wake up,” Celestia said, standing closer to her. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I’m sorry that you and your friends had to get involved in all of this. Aligning with Project Freelancer was my mistake. My burden to bear. I never wanted you or your friends getting involved. It wasn’t for a lack of faith in your abilities that I kept you in the dark, but out of a desire to protect you.”
Celestia brought a wing around Twilight and pulled her closer. With some hesitation, Twilight leaned into the embrace, and all of a sudden she found herself feeling good. Something about this just felt… right. Like this was the way things were supposed to be.
“You see, you’re…” Celestia paused. “You’re very precious to me….”
Leaning forward, Celestia nuzzled her student, and feeling warm and safe, Twilight nuzzled back. The two remained that way for some time, until Celestia’s soft coat became a pillow, and her feathery white wing turned into a blanket. Twilight rolled over in her bed and looked out the window to see the sun rising to greet her.
Sitting in front of a wooden crate sealed and full of produce, Grif lifted the finished letter and gave it one final read-through as the sun rose over Sweet Apple Acres. Addressed to the next of kin of his own Private Boltshot, the letter stated his KIA status coldly, expressing Grif’s gratitude and condolences to the stallion’s family. It was only one page, and it was barely two paragraphs, but it was the hardest thing he’d ever written. He hated work that involved writing just as much as any form of physical labor, but that wasn’t why this had been so difficult.
He’d gone through so many drafts before finally starting on this one, but they were all the same. They all seemed so inadequate. No matter what he put on the page, it would bring no comfort to Boltshot’s grieving family. Only heartache. No combination of words made the letter seem any less cold and heartless.
Grif found himself wondering whether he would receive a similar letter from Command at some point. Another set of cold, distant words that would efficiently and emotionlessly inform him of Sister’s passing. Would the man writing the letter to him put the same thought and care into the words on the page that he did? Or would it be identical to all the rest? Furthermore, would it even matter in the end?
Setting the page down, Grif signed his name and rank at the bottom, deciding he just wanted to be done with it. Yet, he knew that this wouldn’t be the last letter like this he’d have to write if he wanted to continue being in command.
“This is just part of being a leader,” Simmons had told him before leaving to do his own paperwork.
A knock on the barn door prompted Grif to turn, and he saw Applejack standing there.
“‘Sup?” Grif greeted casually.
“Erm, howdy there, Grif,” the farmpony greeted back. “How’s yer mornin’?”
“Fine, I guess,” Grif said in a way that sounded anything but. He looked down at the paper in his hands and suddenly remembered. “Oh yeah! Is there a post office or something I can have deliver this?”
Applejack looked at him and smiled. “Why of course! The post office is jus’ downtown. The mailmare is always more than happy to…” Applejack trailed off and her smile disappeared. “Oh. That’s right….”
“What’s up?”
“Nothin’. Jus’ give it to me. I’ll see that it gets delivered,” Applejack said, taking the letter from Grif. It felt like a huge relief to finally be rid of it. But for some reason, Applejack lingered. “So uh, I’ve got someone here who’d like to say a few words to ya.”
Applejack crossed her forelegs and waited. After a few moments passed, Applejack’s brow lowered and she glared out the door and stated loudly, “I said: Somebody would like to say a few words!”
When nothing happened, Applejack groaned and stepped out of the barn. She returned pushing a man along with her head. It was the last person Grif wanted to see.
“Oh, hey Sarge,” Grif said, coldly crossing his arms.
“Hey Grif,” Sarge stated stiffly. The two silently appraised each other for a moment. “So… how ‘bout them… sports teams? I hear Team Slipspace got a new Runner.”
“Isn’t it the guy who was imprisoned for killing a ton of other players? What’s up with that? It’s like the commissioner’s trying to ruin Team Slipspace on purpose!” Grif exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.
“It’s pretty controversial, I know. But he might actually be a valuable asset to the team. Slipspace really needs someone who can actually play!”
“But isn’t he confined to a five-foot cage? How’s he gonna run plays?”
Applejack’s hoof met her face with great speed. “Land sakes! What is it about sports that makes males lose their train of thought so fast?”
“Oh, right. The thing,” Sarge said, awkwardly clearing his throat. “I want you to know one thing, Grif: I don’t like you. Not even a tiny bit!”
Grif gasped loudly and put a hand to his chest in mock surprise. “Oh my God. I’m shocked! Quick, call the number on my bracelet, I think I feel a heart attack coming!”
“Yer lazy, yer stupid, and yer hygiene is atrocious. I mean really, how are you not dead yet?” Sarge continued before receiving a warning glare from Applejack. “But… I may have overdone it when I tried to bring you down with Sister’s death. That was… uncalled for.”
Grif had half a mind to indignantly agree with Sarge before he realized it almost sounded like Sarge was… sorry. Grif then thought about some of what he had said in their argument, and sighed. “Yeah, I guess I made it a little personal when I said all that stuff about your whole career being for nothing, and you being irrelevant and stuff.”
“No, no, you were right. Crude, but right,” Sarge said with a sigh. “Private Grif… no, Sergeant: I hate you. I ain’t gonna apologize fer that. But I at least owe you the decency to not kick ya while you’re down. That ain’t right: I ought to be the one to put ya down in the first place! So what do ya say? If you let me back into the squad… I’ll follow yer orders. I won’t be happy, and you damn well better believe I’ll call ya out when I think yer ideas are stupid—which’ll probably be most of the time—but no matter what, you’ve got me on yer side.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything more or less,” Grif said, before looking at that piece of paper in Applejack’s grasp and changing his mind. “Actually, I can’t allow you to serve in this squad as my subordinate.”
“What?”
“Because I want you as its leader.”
“What?!” both Sarge and Applejack exclaimed.
“Congratulations on your promotion, Sergeant Sarge,” Grif said. “I’m relinquishing command of the squad to you.”
The other Red and the farmpony beside him just stood there in flabbergasted silence for a time.
“Relinquishing command? Ha! Another example of yer terrible decision-making!” Sarge then suddenly yelped when an orange hoof was brought down hard on his foot. “I mean, uh… thanks fer yer consideration, Sergeant Grif. Yer wisdom as a leader is….”
“Oh, c’mon Sarge. You don’t need to pretend to like me just because I have some authority. You’re not Simmons!” Grif said, smiling under his helmet. “C’mon. Wanna call me a dirtbag again? For old times’ sake?”
“Hmmph. You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me, either…” Sarge said, before adding, “Dirtbag….”
The two reconciled Reds stood silently and respectfully for a time before Sarge hoisted his shotgun. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Lopez an’ I have a spaceship to pimp out!” With that, Sarge walked out. “Later, hoes!”
Applejack merely watched him go with slight stupefaction before turning back to Grif. “Well, I gotta admit, that wasn’t exactly how I thought that’d go. I mean, neither of ya even said ‘sorry!’”
“The sentiment was there, we just need to hide it behind lots of bravado and nonchalance so no one will question our heterosexuality,” Grif said. “This is Guy Stuff 101, Applejack.”
“Well, can’t rightly say I understand it myself,” Applejack said, pulling off her stetson and dusting it off. “Hey, why’s ya give up command of Red Team, anyway? You were doin’ great as a leader from what I heard.”
“Actually, that’s exactly why I gave up command,” Grif sighed. “Being a leader is hard. You have to do way more work, and… your decisions affect people. I don’t wanna be the asshole who gets his soldiers killed. That’s Sarge’s thing!”
Applejack glanced at the rolled up paper tucked under her hoof. “I know what ya mean, Grif. I’m not much fer bein’ a leader myself.” Applejack turned to leave the barn. “But sometimes we’ve all gotta step up regardless of whether we want to.”
Church was standing by the window when Twilight came down the stairs. It was early in the morning, the sun only barely in the sky. Rarity was still asleep in the guest bed, and Twilight didn’t see Tucker around, so she assumed he was still sleeping in the basement. Washington was probably up and about habitually locking down the perimeter. Twilight almost called out to Spike to see if he was up making breakfast, but her throat clenched up when she remembered where he was.
In an effort to distract herself, Twilight went over to Church. “Good morning.”
“Hmm? Oh. Hey,” Church grunted with a start, turning away from the window and back toward the present. Twilight noticed he wasn’t holding CT’s dog tags anymore.
“So, did you find those answers you were looking for?”
“Actually, yeah,” Church said, summoning several holographic files around him, apparently having downloaded everything on the data chip to his own memory banks. “Here, check this out.”
A single file was projected in front of Twilight, and she narrowed her eyes as she leaned forward to read it. It didn’t take her long to realize that it was a news article.
HAVEN TERROR BOMBING KILLS TWO MILLION
>MANASSAS, Alföld, Aug. 21, 2511/NSA terrorist suicide bomber loaded a commercial nuclear explosive device (commonly used in asteroid mining) and several thousand pounds of scrap cadmium into the back of a rental truck, and then detonated it inside the promenade of the Haven arcology on Mamore.
Twilight skimmed through the middle section of the article. It gave a full account of the casualties (a disturbingly high number), named the terrorist group that claimed responsibility, and quoted a condemning statement by a politician (a Roland Hargrove). It was only when she got near the end of the article did Twilight understand its meaning.
Among the dead is Staff Sergeant Allison Church of the UNSC Marine Corps’ 212th, who was working alongside the Office of Naval Intelligence tracking terrorist activity in the Mato Grosso province. While ONI representatives have refused to comment, details regarding the operation were leaked. Allegedly, Church discovered what turned out to be bad intel during a raid on a terrorist hideout which may have resulted in the unpreparedness on the part of authorities.
Transmissions from the site indicates that Church and the 212th were on their way to the Haven arcology when the explosive went off, killing them instantly. Church is survived by her loving husband, Leonard, and daughter, Claire.
“Allison Church…” Twilight said as she looked up from the article at the Church in front of her. “So if you were based on the Director, does that mean Tex is based on this Allison?” Twilight remembered something Celestia had said about a woman that the Director had lost.
“Eh… sort of. I was apparently copied from the Director—from Church’s mind, but Tex wasn’t copied from Allison’s. At least, not directly. She was copied from the Director’s mind just like me.” Seeing Twilight’s confused head tilt, the A.I. continued. “The Director’s memory of Allison was strong, she was… she was his whole world. When she died, the memory of her stuck with him. It was so strong, that when they used his mind as the base for Alpha, they didn’t just end up with one A.I. They ended up with two. One was me, and the other….”
“The other was Allison!”
“The other was the Director’s memory of Allison: Tex,” Church said. “But there’s more. It was the memory of Allison’s death that stuck so strongly with the Director; her failure to save so many lives. Do you know what that means?” Twilight shook her head. “Each of the A.I. fragments were based on one of Alpha’s—and by extension the Director’s—traits. Omega was rage, Delta was logic, and so on.
“But Tex? Her trait was failure. That’s what she is, and that’s what she’s destined to be: a living representation of another person’s failure.” Church’s voice trembled as he continued, “That’s why all of her attempts to save me from the program over the years didn’t succeed. It’s why she failed to destroy Omega time and time again, even when he came here and took over your friend Pinkie Pie. It was why she couldn’t stop the Meta from taking the A.I.s in Dodge Junction and escaping back to Repertum. It could even be why we ultimately failed in our mission to recover Epsilon from Command. Tex’s whole existence is defined by failure... everything she does becomes tainted by it!”
Twilight just looked at him, her face a visage of quiet horror. Failure had always been something Twilight was terribly afraid of. Her greatest exploits were driven by the fear of failure as much as they were by the desire to succeed. To be cursed to fail at her every endeavor no matter what it was… Twilight wasn’t sure she would be able to keep her sanity in Tex’s shoes. Her voice was barely a whisper when she finally spoke.
“Does… does she know?”
“Hard to say. Tex had the data chip for years.” Church tapped a finger on his helmet. “But she didn’t have what I have.”
It took a moment for Twilight to realize what Church was referring to. “Epsilon’s memories… they’re starting to come back?”
Church nodded. “A little bit. There’s still a lot missing, but I’ve started remembering enough to put the pieces together myself.” With a weary sigh, Church sat down. Considering an A.I. inside of a robot body couldn’t get physically tired, Twilight couldn’t help but be a little concerned. “There’s no point in denying it anymore. This is real. I’m Alpha.”
Twilight placed a comforting hoof on his leg. “Like I told you before: I’m here whenever you need me, Church. Just so long as you’re willing to admit you have feelings!”
“Pfft,” Church scoffed. Nevertheless, he placed a hand on her hoof. “Thanks Twilight. I appreciate the gesture, but… I think I’ll be okay.” Although he didn’t say it, Twilight got the full message. As long as you’re here.
“Besides, being an A.I. can’t be so bad, right? I mean, in essence it’s the same as being a ghost, except… I’m made of numbers,” Church gave a single chuckle. “On the plus side, the Pentecostals can’t try to use me to disprove science anymore!”
“Wait… there are humans that do that?” Twilight asked.
“Yeah, you’d think that a society that colonized multiple planets wouldn’t still put so much stock into stories written back when the wheel was the pinnacle of modern technology!”
The pair shared a laugh before settling into a comfortable silence. In the wake of everything that Church had learned about himself, Twilight couldn’t help but be reminded of some of the things she had learned. Her parents’ voices echoed in her mind, and suddenly a heavy weight fell over her chest. It felt wrong venting to Church after everything he’s been going through, but the weight of her own revelations was unbearable. She had to do something to take it off or be crushed.
“So… I might be adopted,” Twilight said conversationally, trying to keep her voice even. “I know that’s not quite as big a revelation as, well y’know….”
“Yeah, not even close,” Church said, but then he looked at the slowly wilting ears on the unicorn’s head and amended. “I mean uh, that’s still pretty rough though.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I mean, obviously we have to stop Project Freelancer and everything first, but… sooner or later I’m going to have to face my family about this.”
“Yeah… wait, when did you figure this out?”
“Last night. When I was in the dreamscape with the princesses.”
“Ah. Right,” Church said, nodding his head.
Twilight looked at him for a beat. “Wait, that’s it? No shocked disbelief? You’re not gonna say something like….” Twilight pinched her nose and did her best impression of Church’s nasally drawl. “‘Dreamscape? Da fuck is that? ‘S some magic bullshit right there!’”
“Hey, fuck you I don’t sound like that! That’s bullshit!” Church’s angry tone did nothing to keep Twilight from giggle-snorting. Seeing this, he decided to just move along with the conversation. “And to answer your question, I guess I’ve kinda gotten used to the bullshit that is Equestria. I don’t think it would surprise me if I learned that God was a horse at this point.”
Twilight’s laughter settled down a bit until she was able to once again focus on the topic.
“So did you at least learn anything important during your dream meeting with the pony princess?” Church asked, before blanching. “Nope. Saying it out loud just made it worse.”
Twilight’s ears perked up. “Oh, right! The ruins we’re looking for are in the Frozen North.” The unicorn mare immediately made her way to the wooden table in the center of the library where the small stack of books currently sat. “Celestia sent me this research put together by another pony. I’m certain that something here holds a clue about where we have to go.”
Levitating the literature in her magic, Twilight sorted through the various books. She flipped over various reference materials on the Three Tribes pre-Unification and a couple from admittedly dubious sources chronicling theories about an alien precursor race. At the bottom of it all was a simple journal. Unlike the others, this one looked to have never been published, as when she opened it, she was greeted by hoof-written words on lined paper.
The first page was short and simple:
A Chronicling of My Expeditions in Search of the Forebear Ruins (temporary title)
By: Arcane Star
