• Published 12th May 2013
  • 10,974 Views, 395 Comments

Idle Curiosity - AwkwardTaco



In the year 2205, Man has brushed his fingertips across countless star systems. Some planets in these systems bear life, others do not. Never, though, have we encountered another sapient race other than our own. And now? We're determined to lear

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Chapter Four

"I'm assuming that you had fun," Private Peterson remarked as Jessup strutted back into camp, helmet clenched to his side and rifle carried by its barrel. From the look of the sweat that covered his face, he seemed as though he had just run a kilometer. Unlike his worn compatriot, Peterson was sitting comfortably on a portable stool near one of the sentry turrets, snacking on a candy bar he had grabbed from the dropship.

"Yeah, tons," Jessup replied facetiously as he tossed his helmet on the ground near Peterson. "Remind me to stick back here next time and have you volunteer for base construction."

"It's cold as balls out here, how the hell are you sweating?" Peterson asked, thoroughly enjoying himself for the first time in a while.

"You kind of sweat when you do this thing called 'working'," Jessup replied as he popped off a seal from the right side of his suit. "You should try it sometime."

"The suits have air conditioning, you know that right?"

"Effing Wesner wouldn't let us! Said something about 'conserving the suits' energy' or whatever," Jessup said as he opened the other seal on his chestpiece. The entire upper portion of his armor split vertically with a hiss of air and fell to the ground in two pieces, leaving only his sweat-stained gray tank top . "Oh, sweet relief..."

Peterson snickered before taking another bite of chocolate. The turret he was sitting next to swiveled to the right and began firing into the brush, the rounds sending a group of woodland animals fleeing from where they had been. The sentry continued firing at birds, their carcasses falling to the ground after each successful hit.

"Damn, these animals just don't learn, do they?" Peterson snorted. "They just keep coming and coming. I'm getting a headache from the noise it makes when it fires."

"Then turn off the sentry gun, man," Jessup offered as he grabbed a stool and sat down. "Just keep it on manual for a bit."

"And leave those wood wolves to come and tear up the camp? No. You're an idiot," Peterson dismissed the idea.

"We're both here to watch over if anything big moves in," Jessup explained. "And there's still the other sentry on the other side of the camp. Nothing's getting in, man."

Peterson contemplated the idea for a moment before shaking his head. "Wesner or Nelson will have me on latrine duty with Richardson if they find out."

"Wimp."

"Shut up."

"Pansy."

"Fine!" Peterson exclaimed. He slammed a fist on the control panel of the turret, and hit the deactivation button as well with five others. A retreating whir emanated from the sentry as it powered down. "Happy?"

"Elated." Jessup responded. "Now hand me a chocolate bar."


Rex didn't fully understand why the bluebirds had suddenly fallen to the ground, but he knew that the loud noise coming from the strange settlement was the cause. He had been following the metal-clad creature for many minutes, making sure to stay out of its way. Luckily, the sounds of the forest had diluted his own noise of breaking twigs and crunching leaves.

Even from a short distance away in the shadows, Rex could see that the "settlement" was extremely small. Save for one large metallic building near the center of the camp, all he could see for housing were a mere four tents. He reasoned that if there was any plunder to be found, it would most likely be located in the metal construct.

Seated on one side of the encampment were two of the bipeds, eating what appeared to be mud bricks wrapped in paper. He carefully circled around to an area where he was just out of their field of vision. Looking around twice to make sure there was nothing patrolling the area, he finally made a mad sprint to the center of the clearing.

As he carefully moved up the ramp that led into the interior of the building, he could hear more of the beings conversing in their unintelligible language. He took great care in making his steps as light as possible.

The only things to be found in the cavernous, dim interior were seats and large lockers. The lockers seemed to be his best bet at finding any kind of treasure, but the doors did not budge at his attempts to open them. With a final huff of annoyance, he tore off the doors from their hinges. Carefully setting the panels onto the floor, he peered inside to view the contents they had protected.

Sure enough, five helmets hung from hooks in the back of the locker along with dozens of black rectangles and cylinders. Rex smiled as he pulled a helmet out of the locker and examined the eyepieces. They were much less brilliant than what he had seen outside, but they still glinted a bright red in the scarce light.

Not trying with surgical precision to remove the rubies from where they rested, Rex began clawing at them in a crazed frenzy. The helmet became dented, pieces of plastic were chipped of the side, but the gems would not come out. Disappointed but not yet deterred, he tried again on another helmet. And another. And another.

He was about to begin bashing the fifth helmet when he heard something yell from behind.


"What the- is that-" Jessup sputtered as he and Peterson stared confusedly at the canine inside of the cargo hold. Shattered electronics and pieces of black plastic littered the floor along with the helmets they had come from. "Is that the dog?"

"What are you talking about? What dog?" Peterson asked. The intruder retreated slowly towards the back of the ship, looking around frantically for escape.

"I'll explain later," Jessup answered. "This guy's been going through the supply lockers for something. How the hell did he open one of those in the first place?"

"Maybe the guy who did it is still here," Peterson offered, drawing his side arm.

With the humans' attention momentarily diverted, the mutt ran down the loading ramp and out of the ship. Neither Jessup or Peterson went after it, much too concerned about the possibility of a human intruder.

Jessup walked over to the cockpit doors and pressed the open command on their control panel. He found one pilot reading a magazine and the other taking a nap. Jessup's sudden appearance startled the awake crewman and he threw his magazine to the ground hastily.

"What the hell is going on? You guys are supposed to be looking after the ship," Jessup berated.

"Nothing's wrong with the ship, ground pounder. Ed and I would know about any intrusion," The pilot said defensively.

"Oh, really?" Jessup grabbed the pilot by his shirt collar and shoved him into the cargo hold. "You know about that?" The pilot took one look around and instantly knew what Jessup was referring to.

The pilot swore as he walked back into the cockpit and smacked his co-pilot across the head. Jessup groaned as he walked over to the comm station in the back. Peterson was already there, scanning the area for who he thought had opened the storage lockers.

"I gotta get Nelson on the horn. We need to figure out where that dog's owner is and how the hell he got here without EarthGov knowing about it," Jessup explained as he picked up the ear piece and began keying the codes for a long-range transmission.

"And find out what the hell they wanted with those helmets," Peterson added as he holstered his pistol.

"The whole turning off the sentry thing is going to be our little secret, okay?" Jessup said as he remembered who's fault it was for allowing the dog to wander into the camp in the first place.

"Fine. But you owe me one."


The UEGS Clarke was relatively fast compared to other ships of its size. Capable of traveling at most three hundred light-years per day, it was magnitudes more advanced than the first spacecraft mankind had created. Even with the knowledge of this, however, Commander Rainsford wished his cruiser could go just a bit faster.

They were still a good four or five standard days away from New Haven, and there was not much on the agenda for the crew until then. As the commander of the ship, Rainsford was to be on the bridge at long intervals during travel. The other bridge officers had much lower expectations. Only three of the usual fifteen officers were currently on duty.

Rainsford had another hour before his scheduled break, so he tried occupying himself by going through the ship's maintenance reports and supply manifests. There was a slight hiccup with the life support on deck two, but nothing entirely major besides that. Indeed, without any true action to put the ship into harm's way, the Clarke was around the same condition it had been when it had rolled off the shipyard almost two years ago.

Supply manifests, surprisingly, always held some kind of hidden adventure in them. Rainsford had noted at least three cases of having unauthorized containers of luxuries within the cargo bay in the past month. These things ranged from Swiss chocolates absentmindedly placed there to attempts at smuggling contraband hunting rifles on exploration missions.

However, the manifest contained something he knew for a fact was not supposed to be there. Nine satellites had been requisitioned for the mission on B4-D4 in order for GPS and mapping systems to operate. He had ordered the satellites to be sent into orbit before the marines had ever left the cruiser.

And yet, here they were still in their shipping crates.

"Hixon, the manifest is saying the mapping satellites are still in the cargo hold. You said you requisitioned and had them launched," Rainsford said, still staring at the readout.

Lieutenant Hixon looked up from his console with a look of surprise. "I did, sir. They were launched thirty minutes before we left."

"Then someone down in logistics forgot to flag them as delivered," Rainsford sighed. "Go down to deck five and check up on it."

"Aye, sir." Hixon nodded and left for the elevator down to the cargo bay.


"... so I think if we can find whoever owns the dog, we might be able to find out if there are any more illegal colonists on the planet," Jessup finished giving his report of what happened at Base Two to Nelson over the squad comm channel. Wesner and Richardson were also on the call, trying to come up with a strategy to find the canine trespasser.

"Jessup, if we don't know exactly where the dog is, there's almost no chance we're going to find it," Richardson sighed.

"And I doubt whoever wanted to break into camp won't try sending it again," Nelson appended.

"I know he couldn't have gotten far, sirs," Peterson chimed in. "At the rate it was running and where it was heading, the only place it could possibly go would be just outside of the forest."

"Then our plan should be to scout out beyond the forest," Nelson nodded and looked over to the other two. "Captain?" Wesner was completely silent. He hadn't spoken once during the entire call, simply staring out towards the edge of the forest. "Sir? We need your authorization, sir."

Wesner finally looked back to the two Corporals. "Permission granted, Nelson. Scout out the area and look for these phantom colonists. The team will consist of myself, Richardson, Nguyen, Dekowski, and Jenkins."

The other marines nodded.

"Dekowski, you'll take point," Wesner said to a member of Squad Three. "Richardson, you're in the back."

"Understood, sir." Richardson replied.

"Then let's move it, people. We've got fugitives to nab," Wesner said as he cycled his FAR and put his helmet back onto his head.


Sierra Mist, Weather Pony-in-training, was rather bored with her current assignment. Preparing for winter didn't require too many volunteers nor energy, but indeed took a very long time. It was tradition for newcomers like herself to be the first called upon the task of transporting low-level clouds higher up in the sky.

Unfortunately, the only recruit this year was herself. With every cloud she stacked near the sun, she could feel the air get cooler and cooler. This had been the trend for the past week or so. Many clouds had already been there from autumn, considerably lessening the load she had to carry.

After unit seven hundred fifty-one, she decided that a break was in order. She personally enjoyed resting upon tops of trees, unlike other pegasi who preferred clouds. She liked the slight crunch of the leaves when they gave under her weight.

Today, she had been rounding up clouds near the Everfree Forest. Sierra knew she only had another day of constantly moving the puffy water droplets from one area to another. Hopefully then she would be given the full title of Weather Pony.

Just as she was about to drift off into a peaceful nap, she heard the tall grasses beneath her tree rustle and hoofsteps head out of the forest itself. Recalling that numerous scary creature lurked within the Everfree, Sierra was starting to regret being so close to it.

She carefully pulled herself to one side of the tree to observe what moved below. Walking slowly in a straight line out of the dense brush were five black bipedal creatures, kind of like Minotaurs. However, they were shorter, had no horns or fur, and looked down right menacing with their cold red eyes.

Whatever these things were, they couldn't be friendly. Even if they were, she was sure warning everypony in Ponyville was a smart move. She had to tell somepony, perhaps Mayor Mare or Twilight Sparkle. They would know what to do.

Standing back up on her hooves, she readied herself into a take-off stance. She wasn't the fastest flyer, but it was good enough to escape without the creatures realizing she was there.

Without another thought, she shot off the top of the tree and towards Ponyville.

Author's Note:

I'm sorry about the OC pony's name. I'm terrible. Blame the pain meds I'm currently on.

Anyway, I wished to have gotten this chapter out much earlier, but I had to get a tumor removed from my jawbone. I hope y'all understand.