Sunset Shimmer hung on to the strange... well, she wasn't sure what to call it. It had looked like some sort of vehicle, but it seemed to be floating, and she couldn't find any access points to reach the vehicle's interior.
Maybe it's some kind of drone, she thought to herself.
Suddenly, she was aware of a slowdown in speed. Peering ahead through the darkness, she heard a cascade of dirt and rocks coming down, filling the tunnel.
I cannot bring the Dragon directly back to me now, as I have just entered an area of softer dirt, which is now cascading down my hull, filling the tunnel behind me.
As I continue to tunnel forwards, I direct the Dragon back up the tunnel to the hole in the ground where the building currently rests, planning to have it come up and meet me on the surface.
I cannot stop the Dragon in order to let the aborigine get off, as what I presume are emergency response vehicles are now rushing to the scene. I still have no definite data to allow me to determine if the natives are friendly or hostile, although their tech appears to be too primitive to inflict serious harm on me or the Dragons. However, I cannot afford to make unnecessary assumptions about potential threats, so even as the Dragon with the native speeds back down the tunnel, I send the other Dragon up and out of the hole and racing across the cityscape.
Principal Celestia raised her head, coughing as dust began to settle.
What on earth just happened? she thought to herself as she surveyed the highly tilted office.
Vice Principal Luna had been out somewhere in the school when whatever it was occurred. She crawled up the room and managed to open the door. Then her eyes widened as she looked out into the hall.
"What the-" she began as she saw a hovering Thing flash by, Sunset Shimmer hanging on for dear life.
She halted herself as she saw something else more familiar but no less startling.
Rainbow Dash was flying up the hall, playing guitar as her wings blurred. She zoomed past Celestia, and just a few moments later, Rarity, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Applejack came into view, pounding up the hallway.
As they turned around the corner, struggling upslope, Celestia whipped out her cell phone.
"Law enforcement? I've got a potential ongoing kidnapping..."
Sunset hung on as the potential drone zoomed through the city streets. People gawked, prayed, froze, fainted, and cursed as the thing zoomed by them.
Rainbow Dash blew past people, her fingers by reflex playing her song "Awesome as I Wanna Be". She grimly pursued the flying vehicle, intent on rescuing Sunset from whatever it was that had her.
After seeing such a strange sight, some people swore off of drinking, while others vowed to cease using drugs. Almost no one paid attention to the four girls running down the city streets, following Rainbow Dash and just as intent on finding out what the heck was going on.
I track the flying native as it strums strings on the instrument that looks like a guitar.
I first became aware of it when I detected a surge of neutrinos. Then the native's thermal signature changed, as wings suddenly sprouted from its back. It took off, pursuing the Dragon with the native onboard.
I wonder if this is an ability characteristic of the native indigenes, but it appears so far that this one is an anomaly, as I have not detected any more transformations.
I am approaching the surface rapidly, and I estimate that in 43.8937456102 seconds, I will breach the surface. The first Dragon is already waiting at the predicted breakthrough point, but the second is still being relentlessly pursued by the flying native.
I make the Dragon suddenly execute a series of sharp turns at a number of intersections, briefly losing the winged native, which has slowed down and is attempting to discover where the Dragon has gone.
I press my momentary advantage and accelerate the Dragon, rapidly putting distance between it and the flying native. The Dragon will reach the breakthrough point 5.876400923 seconds before I emerge onto the surface.
The drone stopped. Sunset barely registered that fact before the ground erupted.
Her eyes widened as a massive metallic form came up, rolling onto the field.
She took in its 120 meter length, the massive sets of tracks, ball-socketed turrets studding its sloped flanks, its imposing height of twenty-five meters from the bottom of the tracks to the main deck, and the three massive blister-shaped turrets that were in a straight line.
What is this thing? she wondered, shaken by the... tank's appearance.
Then a voice reverberated through the air.
"Would you please get off the Dragon, native? I must store it until it is needed."
Did the tank just speak? Sunset thought to herself, so shaken by the day's events that the possibility of the tank having a driver never occurred to her.
Out loud, she responded, "What are you?"
The voice came again. "I am Unit of the Line 33/E-967-THR. I am a Bolo Mark XXXIII Model E, member of the Dinochrome Brigade in service to the Concordiat of Man."
Sunset stared at the 'tank', her mind attempting to figure out what she should do next. "Well, the depths of Tartarus have to be better than this", she muttered to herself.
I was elated when the native spoke in a dialect of Concordiat Standard. But my elation was replaced 0.00376 second later with what my emotional gestalt registers as surprise.
The voice matches with 100% accuracy to the voice of my commander - something that even to my highly precise mind registers as ridiculously close to absolute zero, given that she should be dead after over 16 millennia, even if she had been in cyro.
I show no sign of my inner disturbance as I answer the native's question.
Then I hear the native's muttered statement, and my heuristic dilemma switches trip.
For the statement matches precisely with the code phrase that my commander had set for me over sixteen thousand years earlier.
I initiate a full-body scan of the native, and I discover something that further perturbs me.
Allowing for the slowed passage of time from presumably being in cyro for over sixteen thousand years, the native's brain structure matches my commander's with 99.762904732% accuracy.
But the native is clearly far younger than my commander was the last time I saw her, her appearance is very different, and she apparently has no memories of the past.
I wrangle with the dilemma for a full 3.87692190034 seconds, then come to a decision.
I speak once more.
"Welcome aboard, Commander."
Sunset did a double take. "What did you just say?"
The huge 'tank' turned, its maneuver, though light-footed, leaving tracks gouged a meter deep into the soil. A small hatch at its rear opened, and a ramp extended down onto the ground. The Dragon floated closer, then set itself down.
Sunset, still wary but judging by the aimed turrets that she didn't have much of a choice, dismounted from the Dragon and walked over, going up the ramp into the lit interior.
The door closed behind her, and Sunset was now on her own.