14 - Intensi-tea
Chapter 14: Intensi-tea
The Gorlians. A race of originally trigger-happy war-like creatures with an appearance which would not go remiss in the fiery confines of Tartarus. Their looks were tied to their hellish ecosystem on their home planet. The Gorlian ecosystem was to Earth’s own as the Amazonian jungle was to a farmer’s field.
So it might come as a bit of a surprise when you first meet a Gorlian. They are actually quite nice. Gorlians are even (mostly) vegetarian.
So what made the Gorlians so peaceful? Was it an enlightened movement that swept the land? Was it the ascension of technology that fused biological with mechanical, rendering resource scavenging obsolete? Was it a necessity to abide by intergalactic rule?
The answer was none of these.
It was the Ool.
The Ool were a scary race of top-down dimensional feeders. Every once in a while they’d come down and interact with lower dimensional constructs for pleasure. Much like one would keep a dog, or perhaps poke around an interactive buddy. They also kept other races in check, making sure that no one species dominated the galaxy.
The Ool kept the Gorlians from running amok, and in turn, the Gorlians thought it preferable to sit back and watch the events of the Universe unfold as opposed to being wiped out. They decided to live their lives appreciative of what they had. After all, life is short and there’s only so much to see before the Ool devoured all the dimensions below them. The Gorlians took it quite well for a fierce, war-mongering race.
Live and let live became a common catchphrase. The Gorlians preferred French.
C’est la vie, they told themselves.
Such is life.
——————
The air didn’t ripple so much as crumple with impact of the ship entering into the atmosphere. Some ponies, most of whom were going about their daily business, looked up at the sky and froze, gaping at the slowly approaching behemoth. A few started milling about uncertainly. A particularly panicked pony practically puked on the pavement.
“The sky is falling!” a panicked pony practically pontificated... before of a succumbing to unconsciousness. Not many of the surrounding ponies paid him much heed. They all had their own reactions when confronted with the intricately detailed design of the cosmic vehicle. A grim logo was etched on the side. Unbeknownst to many of the ponies it proclaimed this ship as the lead envoy of the Galactic British Aerospace Empire.
Some ponies stood and watched, even as pinpricks of light were emitted from the ship. They grew larger in size, almost as if they were headed towards them...
Some of the smarter ones yelled out a warning.
“They’ve shot something at us! Take cover!”
Most of them stood and watched. Some even took pictures.
“Look kids, a light show!”
*Snap*
Don’t blame them, they were tourists.
The pinpricks of lights diverged and embedded themselves in the ground around the populace. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to kill anypony, but it happened with such force and noise that the resultant shock wave destroyed all glass windows in Canterlot. Nopony knew what to make of that, but it certainly made for an awkward inconvenience.
From around multitudes of smoking holes, a voice issued forth with a suspiciously posh Trottingham accent that belied horrifying words.
“Citizens of the fine and recovered planet Earth. We are humans. Do not be alarmed. We are simply taking over. You may resume your normal routines for a couple of weeks. That should be enough time to get your affairs in order before we wipe everything out and start over. I hope you have a lovely evening. Good bye.”
The stoic silence following the little announcement was broken by a high pitched scream.
“We’re all going to die!”
Pandemonium spread like wildfire, consuming rationality in a flood of panic. Regrets and supplications were shouted among the populace.
“I never had a chance to tell her I love her!”
“I never had a chance to tell him I love him!”
“I’m never going to get that collectible!”
“I knew it! Aliens are real!”
“Repent! The end is neigh!”
“I’m going to die knowing that I just peed my pants!”
“I don’t even have pants!”
No doubt this would continue had not a certain Student of Princess Celestia stepped in.
“Everypony stop!”
The good thing about herd mentality is that leadership is rare, but insubordination was rarer. Ponies stopped, even in mid-air. A particularly panicked pony crashed into a box of bananas as a result.
“Right,” Twilight grumbled. “The Princesses have convened to assess the situation. We’re working on a solution.”
A small white lie wouldn’t hurt. It paled in significance to the end of the world.
“We’re working with a representative of the invading alien species to come to a peaceful agreement.”
She only wished that it was literally anypony else than David.
“It’ll take a while, but there’s nothing to worry about. The world is not ending, we have everything in hoof. Resume business as usual, and it’ll probably be sorted out in a few hours.”
The assembled crowd heaved a collective sigh of relief. Things were going to be alright.
Twilight bit her lip. She had to get all this lying under control.
————
Underneath Canterlot Castle, a wayward human wandered a cavern.
What was remarkable about the cavern was the abundance of human technology lined neatly in ordered rows among the walls. The steel girders framing the hall gave a grim, dark feel to the scene, but David felt strangely at ease among the chrome sheen of metallic aeronautics and precision machinery.
He knew what he was doing—in a sort of detached way—was a coping mechanism to a serious situation. After all, the British were coming, and it hadn’t ended well for a variety of native species before. A finger paused on its journey along a hardened plate. Though to be fair, they were the original species on the planet… so it wasn’t like they weren’t native, were they?
The finger continued along. No, they left. It wasn’t right for them to come back and just take what they thought was theirs.
The more David thought about it, the more depressed he became. Truth be told, he felt a little responsible for the whole situation. Partly because he was human, and partly because he had been the catalyst that activated the ancient human technology.
Brooding thoughts swirled around his head. He resisted the urge to smash a fist into the spaceship. It was so frustrating! Why was he the centre of things? He was just a bloke who signed up on a short experiment to make some extra cash. Now he was stranded in the middle of nowhere with the closest thing to home determined to invade and conquer a planet.
Things were getting blurrier. It was hard to make out the monolithic masses around him. He stumbled around blindly and collapsed at the foot of ageing craft.
“What am I supposed to do?” he mumbled into his arms. “I’m not even supposed to be here.”
“No,” a voice growled so gravelly and deep, that David thought the walls might crack with its tone. “You’re not.”
David looked up and spotted yellow and red.
—————
A scroll lies in the musty catacombs of the Equestrian emergency war-room. The term ‘war-room’ was a bit of overstatement. Such an ostentatious name did not befit the ill-kept, poorly-maintained, petty excuse of a sectioned architecture belonging to Canterlot castle. In fact, if one were to describe the room, it would be something along the lines of ‘oh sweet Celestia, put it out of its misery’. Failing that, more so along the lines of ‘Darling, I know a good interior designer’. Still, after a thousand years of disuse, it was finally able to perform its original function.
Boxes were moved. Papers were shifted. Ponies rushed to and fro to both simultaneously clear the mess and also coordinate logistics and communications at the same time.
Frankly, it was utter chaos, and it was surprising that a certain draconequus was absent from the proceedings.
The one advantage of the Equestrian war room was the bunker-like impenetrability of its construction. Though it lacked artistic flair, it certainly made up for it in grim competence. Safety was a number one concern for the Princesses, and though Princess Luna felt somewhat at ease in the reinforced room, she felt a tingle of doubt worm its way down her spine as the unknown threat came with unknown capabilities.
Sitting the eye of a maelstrom of ponies and errata, the Princess of the Night saw the doors come open before the announcer could make it apparent. She spotted her somewhat disheveled sister and pursed her lips, waiting for her to begin the conversation.
————
As Celestia entered the room, there was pause. The kerfuffle and confusion stilled almost instantaneously, and spread out like a pebble dropped in a pond. Though weary, Celestia paced forward sedately, keeping a regal pose. Her commanding gaze swept across the room, taking in hastily swept tables, scattered papers and equally scattered ponies. Her eyes found Luna looking up from a map of Equestria pinned down to the table in front of her.
Celestia’s tail twitched, and then she addressed the room.
“As you were,” she called out. “Luna, a word, if you please.”
Luna skirted around the table, coming dangerously close to clipping the furniture in her haste to meet Celestia.
“Sister,” she babbled eagerly. “I think we should rally together all to able-bodied pegasi and launch a—” she grabbed a pony and whispered something in his ear with Celestia waiting patiently as he whispered something back “—a counter-offensive, as they say.”
Celestia frowned at the suggestion.
“We don’t know what they’re capable of, Luna.”
Luna matched her sister’s frown with one of her own.
“But we can’t just sit here and do nothing! They said they would destroy us! How could we just sit idly by and wait for them meekly? We should strike while the iron is heated!”
Celestia considered her frazzled sister. Luna had just recovered from the Nightmare Cometh and the after effects of the purging spell was most likely making her emotional. The alicorn briefly wondered if the same was happening to David, but quickly slotted that to the back of her mind.
“Luna, we cannot rush to conclusions—” Celestia raised a hoof stemming Luna’s ready response “—but I’m not past making preparations.” She locked gazes with Luna meaningfully.
“You mean…?”
A nod.
Celestia thought she might have seen a wicked grin across her sister’s muzzle. It had disappeared so fast though, that she couldn’t be sure. A clatter of paper and a mutter of profuse apology from the tables on the far corner of the room distracted Celestia briefly. A mare snapped at the stallion, giving him a thorough dressing down. Though she couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, it must have been important because the stallion dashed away as if Tartarus was about to swallow him. Shaking her head with a smile, she turned back.
“Please don’t—” she began, but the words died in her throat. Celestia looked around tentatively, but her sister had already disappeared.
“—Overdo it…” she finished lamely. “Oh dear.”
—————
“Hmm,” Discord growled. “Interesting.”
Fluttershy glanced up from the picnic hamper laid out on the grass. Angel bunny was eating one of her sandwiches, but she didn’t mind.
“Oh, sorry Discord, what was that?”
Discord glanced back at Fluttershy, he started slightly as if he suddenly realised she was still there. He grinned wolfishly at her.
“Oh, nothing,” he mumbled, biting into his cucumber sandwich. “A little diversion, I think, for later.”
If Fluttershy was confused, she didn’t show it.
Some things were better left alone.
Besides, anything that made Discord that happy had to be a good thing.
Right?
————
If anything, the British were a courteous people. The grace period to get their affairs in order was a benevolent gesture on their part to ensure that the other species had enough time to come to terms with their inevitable… ending.
On envoy ship, the Commandant was having some serious trouble.
“I cannot believe this, absurd I say, simply absurd!”
The pilot looked up from the data-devs. He didn’t want to answer the Commandant, but he always got surly when his subordinates didn’t comment on his comments. Something about ‘establishing good rapport’.
The pilot decided to keep it simple.
“Yes, Sir.”
The Commandant paced around the command bridge. There was only a skeleton crew on deck. Logically, the Commandant could only annoy the pilot or the navigation specialist. He decided on the pilot, mainly because the navigation specialist was sleeping.
“I mean really, out of tea biscuits? I told them to use our emergency rations, but will they listen? Madness I say, madness!”
“Sir, perhaps you would consider using the digestives—”
“I will not!”
The Commandant suddenly seemed aware of all the personnel gazing at him with curious eyes. Which was just the navigation specialist. He waved away the issue. The navigation specialist shrugged and went back to sleep.
“I will not,” he continued in a dangerously low voice. “It. Must. Be. Biscuits. Digestives are not biscuits!”
The pilot frowned and opened his mouth. He thought the better of it and shut it, shaking his head.
“Tea and biscuits,” the Commandant muttered with a nod. “There must be tea and biscuits.”
“Sir, if I may be so bold?”
“Hmm, go ahead, uhh…”
“Ensign Martin Hughes, Sir.” The pilot sighed. They’d been on the same ship for over a decade and the Commandant still couldn’t remember his name. Well, it was par for course for the Commandant. Britannia was a hereditary monarchy, and the Commandant was born into his rank. Certainly a man of his status and upbringing couldn’t be expected to remember all his subordinate’s names.
Martin pointed out through the double-paned reinforced windows to the planet below. “Perhaps we could procure some from the populace below?”
The Commandant blinked.
“Excellent idea, Martin, excellent idea!”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re going to be valuable on this mission, no doubt about it! No need to look so gobsmacked, Martin, old chap. We’ll have this wrapped up by teatime. Say what?”
Martin had learned a long time ago not to question the Commandant. If he mentioned he never had any surface training, he’d probably be demoted. Instead, he tried to make himself useful.
He cleared his throat. “Shall I arrange for the transportation and what not?” Martin kept it vague, the trick was to make it look like it was the Commandant’s idea.
The Commandant frowned. “Oh yes, jolly good idea. In fact, that's exactly what I was thinking. Round up the…” He tapped his chin through his flowing beard.
After a pause, Martin jumped in.
“Surface troops,” he prompted.
“Contact the—”
“Transport personnel.”
“Arrange for the—”
“Support crew.”
“Excellent, excellent. I see everything is in hand. You see, Martin? This is how leadership works. It’s smooth.”
Martin sighed. “Yes, Sir.”
————
Above Canterlot, the ship began to move. It descended slowly, then stopped, when it had blotted half the skies. The ship was so close now, that an unpleasant humming filled the air, like the snore of a slumbering dragon, only louder and everywhere around them.
From the ship a smaller craft sped out from the larger ship. It was a mere speck compared to the ship, but flashing lights coming from the big ship hadn’t given the ponies the best of experiences. So many erred on the side of caution and rushed inside their homes.
For those still watching, the small craft landed outside the gates of Canterlot Castle. A small hissing sound escaped as the air equalised. Now curious, a few ponies widened the gap between their curtains to get a clearer look. A few braver ones decided to peek out their doors.
A small minotaurian shape emerged.
It drew its fingers to it’s round, oddly shiny head. A small click issued from its bulbous cavity. A clear, male voice sounded out. The voice sounded remarkably similar to ones coming from the buried warheads, but with a different accent.
“We need biscuits,” he said. “Preferably non-digestive.”
Crouching from behind a storefront sign and a potted plant, Twilight emerged.
She glanced around, as if there were anypony else that could confirm what she heard.
“Biscuits,” the human repeated. “We need biscuits.”
For the moment, the concept of biscuits flew right over Twilight’s head. The jumble of events came crashing together. Alien ships, underground bunker, human technology… an invasion.
She groaned and put a hoof to her head.
“Biscuits,” she said.
The human nodded emphatically.
“I’d hurry with them,” the human said. “The Commandant doesn’t like waiting.”
Twilight held up a hoof.
“Would you wait a minute, please? I need to… speak to somepony.”
“Take five, but try not to dilly-dally. We have a schedule to keep. World to conquer and all that.”
Twilight pretended not to hear the last statement, her ear flicking instead. A cold sweat broke out along her forehead.
“DOES ANYPONY HAVE A BISCUIT?” she yelled out to the city.
Silence greeted the antsy unicorn.
“It’s really important that we get these humans some biscuits!” she added. “On account of the world being wiped out!”
A few tense moments passed by. The human kept tapping his foot.
There was a rustle, and some muffled exclamations. A bang resounded across the plaza. Pony Joe came tumbling out of his store. A few nervous patrons eyed him from the doorway, quickly slamming it shut after whipping in their hooves. Twilight heard the heavy rustle of steel against wood as a bar slid into place. Joe slammed his hoof on the door a few times, before giving up and reluctantly coming forward.
“Uhh, w-we have a l-lot of b-biscuits. It d-depends on w-what kind!” Joe stammered. His legs were knocking together so loudly they could hear it from the gates.
Twilight turned back to the human.
“So, Pony Joe asks what kind biscuits would you want?”
The human cocked his head and pressed something else next to his metallic helmet.
“Sir, the native is asking you what kind of biscuit you want?” He paused. “Uhuh, no, no, I told them preferably non-digestive. Yes. With tea. Uhuh, yeah, sure. I’ll ask.” The human turned back to Twilight. “What do you have?”
Twilight bit her lip. Would the humans enjoy their flavours?
“I’ll ask,” she replied, then louder. “Pony Joe, what do you have?!”
Joe looked back at the store in a way that reminded Twilight of a snail that very much wanted its shell. Or maybe Tank when he wanted to hibernate.
“Uhh, I’ll have to check for the full list, but we h-have, u-uhh— wait a moment!” Joe whipped back to the door and yanked at the handle, only to find that it was locked. Dancing on his hooves, he spotted the window and lowered his horn. The window’s lock melted as superheated magical energy surged into it. Pony Joe then did a leap, roll and an unnecessary cartwheel through the window, all the while with Twilight looking on with slack-jawed astonishment.
Twilight whipped around to face the human. He had crossed his arms in the meantime. “I’m sure he’ll be back,” Twilight said with a broken grin. “I’m sure...”
“Hmm,” the human said, resuming the staccato tap of his foot.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
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Don't you worry about those British ships ponies of Canterlot. They may be awash with style but all you really have to do to defeat any British machine is wait 3 days and it'll break down quite happily on it's own.
Bloody Poms sticking their noses into shit that doesn't concern them anymore.
Like Australia.
Well... I have to agree that whenever the British go anywhere new, it never ends well for the natives
Oh Celestia (Celes-tea?), why don't you just, I dunno, fling the ship into the sun if worst comes to it?
After all, you are able to move the sun, which is a LOT heavier than the human ship.
Try to think of that while panicking, if whatever Luna is doing backfires.
This is what popped in my head when I saw the title "Intensi-tea:"
6200025
I think it was in this fic where it was stated that Celestia doesn't raise the sun.
"Welcome to Costco. I love you." - The Best Character in Idiocracy, 2005
6200092 Could be, I already have about a thousand fics meshing in my head so yeah
I see the Captain from the Hitchhiker's Guide series lives on. Wouldn't be surprised if he likes nice long baths.
Mmm, Iroh-sama deems this chapter theme in good taste.
(Though he does agree with me that western tea is for sissies. They don't even heat the tea by breathing fire on it!)
6200141
Costco-- a chain store so damn big it has its own train system and law school!
So they basically said: "Everyone keep calm, we're only going to wipe out your entire species as part of a forced takeover."
The humans in this story are worthless.
6200354
no no i think its more of making fun of the stereotypical british person being overly polite, even in war times. my question is this "is our main human a brit or not?" cause if hes not this will be a hilarious exchange.
Dude, like, fuck these british pricks. Bunch of assholes if you ask me.
I wonder what they will use to purchase the biscuits, I doubt that they have any bits, this should be addressed
6200368
I'm pretty sure it was mentioned in the beginning he came from the Land Down Under.
6200506 Well, since they're keen on destroying the inhabitants, I imagine they just expect to get them for free.
okay, this I can believe happening.
For all of you readers who think that this is how we British people actually act, I have a message for you:
No. It really isn't. The stereotype has been massively exaggerated for story purposes.
Don't teas us like that.
i.imgflip.com/o5vdh.jpg
6201491 So do I, but I love joking and teasing even more!
6200789 well somepony cunning enough could haggle some information out of them like "how" the plan to destroy them. after all those brits seem to need buscuit
6201041
*nod* That's just a caricature of traditional nobility.
See Also: Eloi
Contrast: U wot m8?
Surely there is an intergalactic United Nations that they could bring up this British incursion to.
Nice alliteration.
-Kirb.
I though you were gonna go for the chavy sort of brit for this well good tale, mate. I still thing your gonna do it still, brov. I swear on me mum I do.
Well if the British are coming no doubt that 'Murica is right behind with plans to liberate equestria by force
6202783 There is only one way to stop the evil British and their horrid smiles... SUMMON THE DENTIST!!
1.bp.blogspot.com/-w3GHVBnmNCY/T1fTiVE1neI/AAAAAAAACQM/lF59Bz2jvi8/s1600/thebigbookofbritishsmiles.png
And then have a necromancer summon up zombie George Washington.
6202203 Nah, the Intergalactic UN is busy trying to negotiate with Space ISIS.
6201041 HE LIES!!
I've seen enough of the older seasons of The Simpsons to know THE TRUTH!!
agenciazappa.com.br/site/wp-content/plugins/hi-everybody-simpsons-i19.png
And I've also seen lots of episodes of "Faulty Towers" and "Father Ted"! (heh heh 'Fek off' indeed)
I'm looking forward to the next chapter. Here's a rating if the story so far:
And then they gave up a cracker instead.
Keep going! ;)
I see two ways this can go: Celestia embargoes all biscuit trade with the Brits until they reach a no-hostilities agreement, or Colgate comes along and single-hoofedly drives them all back into space.
6201216
You smarmy bastard.
6200052
Well. Youtube happens to have the entire movie of Idiocracy on it, and that video linked directly to it. Now, instead of going to sleep at two in the morning as was my intention, I'm going to bed at three. I'm not complaining, I just wish I'd been conscious enough to properly enjoy the movie, or at least be able to make the decision to save it for later.
Everybody commenting on the brits instead of commenting on the red and yellow in front of David. While I now think it may have been Discord's eyes, while reading I considered it must have been Sunset Shimmer. Anyways, something will happen with Dave and he won't be helping during this situation.
XD I didn't know british could go so mad about not getting biscuits! XD
Nice chapter.
6203611
But let me tell you: The version you probably found was sped up to avoid copyright issues. You really didn't experience it in all its dumbed-down glory.
If given a chance to be snarky a British person will always be 100% snarky and sarcastic
Well... yeah that is true
That almost took a little bit of a turn for the dark. Fortunately, the British insatiability for biscuits lives on.
Just so long as what Pony Joe and ponykind in general calls a biscuit is the same as what the Brits call a biscuit. I know I've seen the term applied to anything from cookies to crackers to actual breaded biscuits. The wrong kind of biscuit may yet trigger another intergalactic war with over two grillion casualties resulting in the British naming a sport after the main hostile race.
That said, maybe the ponies should just challenge the British to a cook-off. We all know about the British penchant for cooking good food
6203874 They're the British. NOONE messes with Tea-Time.
I laughed too hard when it turned out it's the British that come back. Only thought I had was "The British are coming", and the fact that it's an Aussie makes it SOOO much funnier.
I get the feeling you are drawing inspiration from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The styles are very similar.
Where are the Americans when you need them?
Jesus.
You just told them you were going to commit genocide, and now you want to ask them for biscuits???
Okay this is bugging me. What the HELL is non-digestive???
6784880
Probably for preparing for space World War 1
Honestly when you think about it of course it would be the British who invade after all they subjugated both Indians and aboriginals and then attacked both the people who stayed in america when they wouldn't pay a dumb tax and when they were being monsters to the Australian natives they were also dumping a number of both reasonably arrested and stupidly arrested convicts in Australia so of course the stereotype of "we see an inhabitable location it's mine now" can be applied to space Brits