The Hish broke down the locked doors of the farmhouse, and made its way to the bathroom, where it punched the walls and crunched the tile into the sink. From its back it removed a small oblong object and placed it on the back of the toilet. It looked in the mirror, its blood glowing brilliantly through its mask, and cocked its head. It growled, its mandibles clicking together. It pressed the top of the oblong object, and the side opened up and it pulled out a collapsible tray which it put on the side of the sink. It then dropped a handful of tile into the tray, and poured a bluish liquid on it from a small metal vial. The trey then lit up in flame, which quickly died down leaving nothing but bluish jelly. The Hish took a knife, resembling a butter knife crossed with a scalpel, and smeared the blue jelly across the pitchfork wounds. The Hish screamed at the wall as the chemical reacted with its flesh, cauterizing the wound shut.
Finished, it shoved the tray off of the sink and leaned down, both hands on the sink, breathing heavily. It reached up, and undid the air hoses to its mask. The air here might be toxic, it knew, but the mask was hot and uncomfortable after a battle, and it needed to feel something other than a metal mask on its face. With both hands, it removed the metal mask, and flexed its mandibles in enjoyment. The air, though acrid against its flesh, was fresh and free and enjoyable, and it stretched its arms out. Then, it looked at its wrist, and extended the now broken wrist blade. The blade, originally three and a half feet, was now only one and a half. Pity, the creature thought, to have lost the most essential of weapons. No matter, such things could be fixed, had been fixed before.
The predator walked out into the kitchen, looked around, the air still acrid on its exposed face. Curious, it decided a little exploration was in order; the door had proven somewhat difficult to break down, and it figured that this would be an adequate temporary base of operations. It walked to the counter, where knives sat at the ready in a knife rack, and reached down and pulled one out, examining the blade. The Hish growled to itself. Plastic.
In the front room, there was a couch and a sitting chair and a love seat and a fireplace, and in the dining room a simple wooden table, stained, surrounding by nearly-broken wooden chairs. It heard movement - the creaking of muffled springs - and it cautiously headed down the hallway, darkened despite the sunlight outside. It came to a door, almost shut, pale sunlight seeping through the minute space between door and door-frame, and from within the room came the sound of muffled creaking springs again, followed by why sounded like a sigh to the Hish's ears. It placed an open hand flat against the door, and silently pushed it opened. It slowly opened, the door hinges slightly groaning. It stood there, hunched slightly in the doorway, looking as Granny Smith slept in her bed, sleeping soundly. The Hish walked forward, floorboards protesting under each heavy footstep, its dreadlocks dangling down beside its barren face. Its mandibles clicked together and it squinted. Then, in a quick motion, it reached down and grabbed Smith by the skull, lifted her up; her eyes shot open and her body reacted, hands grabbing the Hish's wrists and her legs kicking wildly around, yet always missing the beast which held her up. Her eyes locked with those of the Hish.
"Demon." She whispered. And with that, the Hish threw apart his arms, ripping Granny Smith's head in two. Warm blood splashed his face.
"You're sure your medics can save her?"
"Trust me Celestia, my medics can treat anything. That's what happened when you're banished from civilization because you were hungry."
"As long as you're sure, Chrysalis."
"Now come, dear Princess. We must leave Applejack in the capable hands of my medics."
Celestia, lead by Chrysalis' arm on her shoulder, looked back as the Changeling medics bent over Applejack's still frame.
Riddick sat at the table, his arms outstretched and his ass sore form the cushionless seat. He guessed that he was in an interrogation room, although, from his experience, it wasn't a very effective one. For the first part, it had windows that let the late morning sun. He squinted, his eyes burning from the light. They took my goggles, so maybe they put me here on purpose, he thought to himself. Maybe they're smarter than they look. Then again, his train of thought continued, maybe they're just incredibly lucky and don't know about my vision. The door opened, and three figures walked in - Twilight, plus a white creature that resembled Twilight, and a black creature with insect wings. Seriously, where the fuck was Riddick?
They sat down across form him.
"Hello, Riddick."
"Who the hell are these two?"
The black one spoke. "Is that anyway to speak to a Queen?"
He stared at her. "I didn't vote for you."
"You..... you don't vote for Queen!" Chrysalis hissed. "Idiot!" Twilight put an hand on Chrysalis' arm, and hushed her. "Let it go," she said, before turning to Riddick. "This is Queen Chrysalis, leader of the Changeling horde. And this is Princess Celestia, leader of Equestria." Celestia nodded, eyes not leaving Riddick.
"Why have you come here?" Celestia asked. "Who are you? Where are you from?"
"I'm not supposed to even be here," Riddick said. "I was on my way back to Furya, in cryosleep, taking the back roads to avoid more mercs."
"Mercs?"
"Mercenaries. Hired guns. Bounty hunters. Bastards and assholes. Anyway, when you take the back roads, there's a long time for something to go wrong. Whatever it was, something altered my course." He leaned back. "And I woke up here."
"Uh-huh," Chrysalis muttered. "And you brought a friend with you, didn't you now?"
"Friend? Huh; I wouldn't exactly call that fucker a friend. More like.... unwelcomed acquaintance."
"Why did it follow you?"
"Not sure."
Twilight leaned forward, and raised an eyebrow. "You're not sure?"
"No. But if I had to guess, Id' say it probably wanted to take me out like every other merc out there." He leaned forward. "I've kind of got a reputation for being a badass."
"Why don't you watch your language?"
"And why don't you close the fucking window so I don't have the goddamn sun in my face?"
"Quiet, or I'll smack the shit out of you!" Chrysalis stood, knocking her hair over as her wings buzzed wildly.
"Chrysalis! Come now," Twilight said, again resting a hand on the arm of a clearly agitated queen. "We are not judged by how we treat those who please us, but by how we treat those who are against us."
"Wise words. I knew a man like you once. Are you a holy man?"
"No. Also, I'm not a 'man.' I'm a mare."
Riddick stared at Twilight's clothed breasts for a moment, and then said, "obviously. Are you a holy mare?"
"No."
"Ah. So, when are you going to let me go?"
"Why would we let you go?" Celestia asked.
"Well, it ain't me you gotta worry about."
"That thing has killed six, and if Applejack doesn't make it, seven. If we let you go, will you help us?"
Riddick sat back and thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Why would I help you?"
"What do you want in return?"
Riddick squinted out the window, the light still blinding his eyes, but he could still see the massive ships which hung silently in the air. "Know whose those are?"
"Karellen, Supervisor of Equestria."
"If I help you, can you get me one?"
"Trixie thinks Twilight should," Trixie said, crouching next to Riddick.
Twilight blinked hard. Trixie was still there, and Twilight's heart raced. "Uh, sorry, I didn't catch that. Come again?"
"I said," Riddick sighed, "I might considering helping you if you can get me a ship to get off this rock. I told you, I've got places to be."
"He's got places to be, Twilight," Trixie cooed. "Twilight doesn't want to keep him from places, does he?"
"No, I don't."
"What?" Celestia looked at Twilight, who gulped. "Sorry," Twilight said. "What I meant to say is, um, we need to talk this over amongst ourselves first. I'm sure you understand, right, Riddick?"
Riddick cocked his head. "I don't know. Do I?"
"I don't think she'll make it." The Changeling looked at his companion as Applejack lay supine on the table before them. "Feel her head, there's massive trauma there; you can feel places where the skull has cracked open." His companion felt along Applejack's head with his hands, nodding as he did so, then he looked at the other: "So, what do we do?"
"We're going to save her," the Changeling said.
Twilight led Chrysalis and Celestia out of the interrogation room, and turned to them. "Now, we do need to talk about this - this is a very big decision - but I'll be right back. I have to.... go to the bathroom."
"Really?" Chrysalis asked while Celestia simply held a hand to her face. "You're going to the bathroom now? I thought this was a very big decision. Can't you hold it?"
But Twilight was already making her way down the hall. "No. Sorry. Afraid not. You know how it goes with coffee. Heh. Just one cup and you've got to go all day."
Chrysalis sighed, and Celestia said: "Just hurry up, Twilight. We'll be right here waiting for you." She offered a concerned smile.
"Alright, I'll be right back," Twilight said as she ducked into the women's room. She locked the door and touched her horn to the door, feeling the cold seep into her as she closed her eyes hard against the world. She didn't sleep well, that was it. Trixie wasn't really there. She couldn't be. Trixie could only exist in her memory, or in Karellen's apartment. Those were the only two places. Twilight was obviously hallucinating.
"That wasn't awkward at all, Twilight Sparkle."
Twilight spun around, and found Trixie sitting on the edge of the sink, her hooves swaying in the air, leaning back on her arms. "How- What--- Why--- Who?"
"Lost for words? Trixie is impressed; you still get choked up by Trixie's body."
"No, I.... why are you here?"
"Don't know."
"Can anybody else see you?"
"Trixie doesn't know. But if they can't see Trixie, perhaps Twilight Sparkle should keep her voice down?"
"Right," Twilight calmed herself. She looked at the ground. "I'm..... I'm glad you're here, Trixie?"
"Yeah?"
"Things are bad. Very bad. It's just started and we've already lost six, maybe seven ponies. I don't.... how can we beat this?"
"Twilight will find a way."
"Did Karellen send you? Is he trying to help us without helping us?"
"No. Karellen did not send Trixie. Trixie missed Twilight, wants to see her." Trixie stood up and walked to Twilight, grabbed her shoulders. "Trixie wants to love Twilight."
"Here? In the bathroom?"
"We can love anywhere. Doesn't Twilight Sparkle know this?"
"No.... You're not, not real. You're a hallucination. I'm crazy, I'm loosing it. Too much stress."
Trixie cupped her lovers hand. "Are you? Is Trixie just a figment of a brilliant imagination?"
Queen Chrysalis and Princess Celestia were waiting outside of the bathroom, listening to what sounded like murmuring from the inside, ears perked and ready. They looked at each other when the door open, and Twilight Sparkle stuck her head out.
"Twilight Sparkle, it is about time you --"
"No time, Princess Celestia. There's something I must figure out. Release Riddick."
"Release Riddick?"
"Yes, release him under armed guard, at all times. We'll need him. But, um, if you'll excuse me," Twilight slipped out of the door, awkwardly shutting the door behind her. "There's some very important things I have to attend to."
"What kind of things?"
"There might be, uh, a threat that we haven't identified yet that could be very bad for all of us," Twilight hastily replied.
The door opened, and Celestia and Chrysalis walked in and looked at Riddick. "Well, it seems you're free to go."
"Free, huh?" He stood up. "What's the catch?"
"Armed guards. Three Royal Guards, and three Changelings. They will be armed, and so I'd advise you to behave yourself while you're in our company."
"Six, huh? Think that'll be enough?"
"What are you saying?"
Riddick stretched his arms behind his head, cracked his back and his neck. "Nothing. Sounds like a nice, even number."
Twilight raced through the halls of the Royal Castle. "Spike!" She called out. "Spike! I need you!" She knew how to figure out if she was crazy or not; had an idea that was foalproof. She turned a corner, and ran headlong into Starlight. "Twilight!" Starlight cried. "Twilight, is everything alright?"
"Where's Spike?"
"Nobody has seen him. What's wrong?"
"I need a favor."
"Anything, Twilight."
"Do you know how to get to Celestia's star charts?"
"Yes, but -"
"Then go. I need you to bring me back the charts for next week - no, the charts for tomorrow. Please, Starlight, it's important."
Starlight took Twilight's hand. "Is everything okay?"
"No-- Yes-- I don't know. Maybe. Just, please, can you get that for me?"
"Um, yeah, sure Twilight, if it helps you I'll do anything."
Twilight pulled Starlight close, and kissed her deeply, then said "thank you, Starlight. I'll be in my quarters, get the charts, and meet me there. And hurry!" Twilight hurried to her quarters, shut the door and rushed to one of the many large bookshelves, pulling a large volume from among the others. She then sat down at a desk, throwing the book open and pulling out a sheet of paper, and a quill and ink. Her reasoning, she thought, was perfect: if Trixie was a hallucination, and she were indeed crazy, she could not do something as simple as take a drug to determine if such was the case. This would not constitute proof even if it did work, since Twilight knew the effects of the drug, having chosen for herself for this purpose, and her imagination could suggest to her the double illusion of having taken the drug and of experiencing its effects.
But by using the star charts, Twilight could solve the problem with the aid of only Starlight and a single volume. Furiously she worked at the equations, seemingly endless integration. It had been a long time since she had tackled such elaborate calculations, and the last time must have been during her practical astronomy exam. By making the calculations form the charts in the old tome, she would obtain an approximate value for the position of the current stars which would act as a cross-check for the charts Starlight would bring. Approximate because the book was very old, aged but not quite dated, and knowledge had been gained since its publication. If the positions, and values, from the star charts were the product of a diseased brain, then they would not overlap at all with Twilight's calculations.
"And you'll be sane," Trixie said, kneeling beside her. Twilight looked at her while she continued, "which would make me real." Twilight swallowed hard, her eyes wide and excited, and went back to her calculations.
The sunlight fell on the broken blade in the barn, and was shadowed when the Hish stood over it. It bent down, and picked it up, and looked at it, holding it up and turning it over. One clean break, no other damage - that was a very good, very lucky. The Hish held it in both hands, then extended the remaining wrist blade. It put the two ends together, and they fit perfectly - the Riddick was a very dangerous and lethal prey indeed. It turned, and walked back toward the farmhouse.
Riddick pulled his goggles over his eyes, and walked out the door. Canterlot buzzed with activity, as it usually did, with ponies and Changelings going about their business, most having no clue that seven of their kind, and possibly eight, had been slaughtered by an extraterrestrial hunter. However, that did not prevent them from staring wide eyed and suspiciously at Riddick while he walked. Of course, the six guards didn't help either. Riddick looked up and down the streets - shops. Clean windows. Boutiques. Restaurants. Public parks. Fountains. Crowded sidewalks. The sound hoofs on cobblestone and the scent of half-concealed pheromones. Riddick walked down the street, looking for something to hold him over, to give him a sense of familiarity. He stopped, as did his unwanted companions. "You guys got any bars around here?" He asked, not looking back, and when there was no reply, he turned around. "You know, alcohol? Booze?" The guards were quiet. "Well?" One of the Changelings looked at him, then at the others, then sighed. "There." He pointed. "Over there, they serve cider."
"Cider?"
"Yeah, Cider. It's alcoholic."
"Strong or weak?"
"Meh."
"Anything harder anywhere?"
"Not at this time of day, ponies are hardasses like that. Oh, wait, there! Yeah, there, the tavern! They'll have something, sure!"
"What's your name?"
"They call me Kevin."
Riddick smiled. "Twilight Sparkle. Lyra. Bon Bon. Princess Celestia. Applejack. Queen Chrysalis. And then there's you," he turned around and began walking toward a tavern with tables out front. "Fucking Kevin," Riddick chuckled. The inside of the tavern was poorly lit, and about half full of ponies who turned to look at him, stopping their actions. They seemed to shrink at him as he raised his goggles up and looked around the place. He could hear one of the waitresses whisper "look at his eyes!" before the barkeep shouted "Hey! You're not welcome here! You wait outside!"
Riddick sighed. And put his goggles back on. "Friendly place," he growled. "Kevin, get me a shot of something hard, and a big glass of something harder."
"Right." Kevin went toward the bar while Riddick went back outside and sat down at a table. He watched as ponies walked by, staring at him and muttering to themselves, clearly mistaken that his smallish ears meant that he was hard of hearing. "Look at how hairless he is!" whispered a tall, thin pony with a fleur de lis on her hip. "Oh, god, what a terrible face! He's got no muzzle!" Whispered an elderly pony with a monocle. "Oh, he's so ugly!" gasped a gigantic blimp of a pony so loudly that Riddick smirked. The door opened behind him, and Kevin was at his side, putting down a single glass.
Riddick looked at him. "What's this?"
"Cider. It's all they'll give you."
"Why?"
"Said he can't serve you anything else."
"Can't? Or won't?"
Another Changeling guard spoke up. "Just take what you get, beggars can't be choosers."
"Who says I'm beginning."
"You ought to be getting water and bread," a Royal Guard said.
"You guys are just lovely company."
"Shut it!" The guard barked at him.
Twilight put down her quill and leaned back,exhausted. She had finished the equations, and before she could relax, there was a knock at the door and it began to open. She looked at it, and from the corner of her eye she could see Trixie looking at it as well. She got up and flew to the door. "Oh, thank you, Starlight. Thank you so much! I'll be out in a minute, okay?"
"But, Twilight, I --"
"In a mintute!" Twilight shut the door and flew back to the desk. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then compared her calculations to Celestia's star charts. Her heart sank; the star charts correlated completely to her own calculations. They existed independently from her, and she was not, then, crazy. Which meant that Trixie was real. She sighed. She looked at Trixie, who waited. "You're real," Twilight said. "You have to be. I'm not crazy." She held up the two papers. "I just proved I'm not crazy."
"Then what am I?"
"I don't know. Where did you come from?"
"I don't remember. I just remember being lonely, and then being here, with you." She moved over to Twilight, took her in her arms, put her hat on her head and leaned in, breathing softly. "And that's all that really matters." Their lips met.
The door cracked open as Starlight let herself inside. "Twilight, baby, I'm worried about you. Is everything okay? You can --- who is she?"
Yes. Trixie was very definitely real.