Chapter III: A Speech is Given
It really was nice having a body all to herself, the Nightmare mused. Even before, when she’d had control, Luna had always been in the background, fighting and yapping like a little annoying dog. Even when the pony was sleeping, her subconscious was always protesting, “Don’t kill that family! You shouldn’t burn down the city!” So annoyingly moral.
Apparently, complete magical exhaustion even shut down the subconscious. Too bad it wasn’t something that could be repeated very often; it was obvious that the only way she would ever get any peace was this.
The doctor was still singularly unimpressed, apparently completely unaffected by the subtle (at least for her) aura of unease she was gleefully pressing upon the astronauts. They were squirming in discomfort, deliciously uncomfortable, but the lab-coated man didn’t seem to feel it at all.
“Are we done in here?” he asked blandly. “Got all your stuff?” Without pausing for an answer, he continued, “Never mind, I’m sure someone will be around to grab it. We’re anchoring in half an hour; Mr. Armstrong, the president is waiting for you on the flight deck.”
He banged on the door and grabbed the unwieldy wheel set in the center of the door. He twisted it, wheel resisting heavily at first, but then beginning to spin freely with a hiss as the seal was broken open.
“Mr. Aldrin,” he said sternly, “You’re going to come with me. We’re going down to the infirmary to put you under observation.”
Hurriedly, Buzz put down his half-empty glass and agreed readily, eager to escape her. Her smile grew only wider as she watched them scramble to the door, desperately squishing closer to the door. The doctor pushed open the door, where several other people stood. The doctor took Buzz’s shoulder and steered him over to the hallway.
Neil nearly dived out of the door, and the Nightmare sniffed in annoyance as she watched the other humans begin to stiffen. It wouldn’t do to be too obvious with flaunting her abilities. These humans were far too inquisitive for their own good, and while that made them endearingly amusing, it was also bound to make her an object to be studied rather than feared if she was too obvious.
Stupid humans. Why couldn’t they be amusing and bow down at the same time? Tch. All the same, she reluctantly toned it down, keeping only a slight sense of awe and fear niggling at their subconsciouses.
Michael couldn’t move as spryly as Neil could, but he, too, was soon out of the room, sighing in relief.
“Keep moving,” she said, stepping out herself, while consciously willing her eyes back to that horrid original form. These underlings presumably didn’t know anything about her, unless their leader was a fool, and he certainly hadn’t struck her as a fool. She had liked what she had seen of him, for that brief moment, but it had been hard to judge off of one moment.
…But it wasn’t like he was all that impressive in total terms, anyway. No magic, no obvious prowess with weapons (though that was one of the few things she was delaying judgment on), and, most importantly, he wasn’t one of her kind. That was what mattered when all was said and done, anyway. They were all unimpressive compared to her majesty.
The humans fell into step around her, and only then did she deign to survey them, realizing they were all carrying weapons of the same type as the two suited men had been carrying at their hips—as well as much larger weapons in their arms. Keeping a respectful distance from her, they nonetheless completely boxed her in.
“What’s this?” she asked in annoyance. “Am I under guard?”
“No, ma’am,” one of them said. “Given the recent assassination attempt, security has been stepped up on all persons near the President or considered to be vital to national defense.” More men filed into the hall, taking up similar positions around the two astronauts. “We will also be serving as your honor guard.”
It was all said perfectly reasonably, and the honor guard ploy was a nice flattery, but the charade didn’t fool her for an instant. This was a guard. Polite, yes, and probably also dedicated to keeping people away from her, but the inverse was to keep her away from anyone else.
“Very well,” she sighed magnanimously. “I suppose you’re being too courteous to ignore. Lead on.”
The two men in front moved in perfect unison, boots stamping on the hard deck, and the others in the box moved along with them, shepherding her along the hallways and corridors upwards. The final stair led to a large metal door which was pushed open, revealing the large deck from earlier.
This ship was strange. Why such a large, flat space on top? There were no weapons—or sails, for that matter. Perhaps the paddlewheel was on the other side of the ship, behind the large tower she had just emerged from.
To her amusement, no one had yet gotten around to actually cleaning up the mess from the traitors and her swift disposal of them. They simply lay behind yellow tape, presumably waiting for a janitor to get around to them. How inefficient.
“Mr. President,” her escort announced. “Mr. Collins, Mr. Armstrong, and the alien are here.”
Nixon was leafing through a stack of papers, and he briefly looked up before returning his attention to the sheets. “Good, good,” he said. “Neil? Michael? I’ve had the liberty of having some speech outlines typed out for you.” He held out some of the stack. “They’re really general, so feel free to improvise and add your own stuff—you know the drill.”
Their escorts accepted the offerings and passed them back to the two men, who also immediately began to leaf through what were apparently speeches.
After a few moments of this mind-numbing stupidity, she cleared her throat. “I suppose you’ll want me to give some speech, as well?” she asked.
“If you’d be willing to,” the president responded with an easy smile.
“Full of platitudes, empty words, and other pandering, I suppose?” she asked laconically.
His smile faltered momentarily, but then returned just as bright. “Actually, it won’t matter much—you won’t be speaking in English.”
Now that genuinely threw her for a loop. “What?” Her estimations of this man suddenly spun into a death spiral as that one sentence directly contradicted all of her predictions. It had been a long time since her first impression of someone had been wrong—and they always underimpressed, if she had been wrong.
What kind of king was this Nixon to throw away such a valuable propaganda opportunity? She was at a temporary loss for a suitably acerbic response to that idiocy as she recalculated his intelligence downwards.
“You understand, it’s not common knowledge that you already speak English, and the longer we keep it that way the better it will be,” Nixon continued blithely as he walked down the deck. “There will already be enough factions in the government fighting for your time without knowing that little fact, not to mention others.” His grin, though it didn’t change an inch, lost some of its charm. “Also the reason for the guards, which I apologize for. Recent events show that the security arrangements already made were insufficient.” He gestured at his own phalanx of military guardsmen. “As you can see, I’ve taken the same precautions.”
They reached the end of the deck, and he looked out over the ocean. “See that, ahead? That’s Hawaii,” he said, pointing over towards a greenish lump which dominated the horizon.
Someone called out from behind them, “Mr. President, where do you want the podium?” and the president turned. “Right on the edge there, Devin,” he called. “Excuse me,” he asked with yet another easy smile, “but I need to finish setting up for the speeches as we’ll be docking in just a few minutes.” With that, he walked away, already calling instructions out to the swarm of flunkies coming out on deck with various pieces of… stuff. She had no idea what any of it was or what it was for, but she assumed it was for the speech. Perhaps props of some kind?
At any rate, the information the president had unintentionally given her was enough to keep her mulling over it for the next quarter-hour. So, Nixon was not as powerful as she had thought. Perhaps he was even just a figurehead as opposed to an actual ruler. His government was powerful enough under him to result in significant infighting which he implied he would be unable to stop.
As well, he needed to rely on ordinary soldiers rather than a specific guard unit for added security. These males standing obtrusively around her wore no special insignia nor clothing, unlike the first agents which had been his nominal “protection.”
Taken in that light, his wish to keep what little leverage he owned completely secret made sense. Unless, of course, the ever-present spies for the other factions had overheard any of his discussions, which was also a high possibility, given his horrendous grasp of secrecy.
With that, her previous personal intelligence calculations still applied, a vindicating feeling confirming her superiority. Her communal calculations had been skewed, but those were much less likely to be accurate for a significant amount of time. Give it a few months, she figured, before she started relying on those because groups were far more complicated than one pitiful human mind.
The next five minutes told her exactly what to do to get the man’s favor, but it was a boring idea. A boring, pandering, stupid plan. Even if it would screw her calculations up, she just had to do something fun.
So she waited the few remaining moments in silence like a good little guest, stepping away from the deck when they got close like she was asked and going inside like she was asked. As she and the astronauts, along with their combined guard details, waited in the hall, she never voiced her impatience with the whole waste of time. As the astronauts were called out to give their speeches and she listened to the crowds of peons cheer for their heroes, she didn’t spit on the ground in disgust like she wanted to so badly.
Finally, they finished, as did the president, after what seemed like hours and hours of applause and pauses to allow the unabashed admiration of the masses to shine forth.
Nixon returned at least, wiping sweat from his brow. “Right, I’ve introduced you and set it up so you can say whatever you want in your own language,” he said. “Right to plan; go knock them off their feet, Ms. Nightbringer.”
She nodded as she stepped out the door, but right as it opened, but before she stepped into view of the crowd, she leaned in and whispered, “There’s only one problem.”
“What?” the president asked concernedly.
“I’m not Luna,” she whispered, letting her illusion drop for a moment, showing her eyes. She grinned wickedly.
His mouth dropped open in surprise and recognition, but before he could say anything, she skipped out the door and practically pranced to the podium (interestingly, it was the same shape as on her host’s native planet, despite the obvious biological differences), before looking out into the crowds and constant flashing of lights. Whatever those annoying pops were, there were an awful lot of them.
She let her smile stretch to her fullest extent as she reinforced her illusion, pushed out an aura of serenity, and opened her mouth.
-----
Luna frowned. “What did she say?”
Neil shrugged. “I don’t speak your language,” he said. “No idea. There are tapes, and it’s being played on live TV constantly, though—“
He was shaken violently. “Give them to me. Now.”
It took only a few minutes for them to scrounge up a TV with a connection, and he found a channel that was just beginning to repeat the historic speech.
With the first word out of the Nightmare’s mouth, Luna’s ears flattened. At the second, she blanched. By the end of the first sentence, she looked queasy.
She sat in horrified silence for the entire three-minute speech, eyes shrunken down to pinpricks and mouth open, and for some time afterwards. Her first and only reaction was to say in a small voice, “I need some bleach…” and to meander drunkenly to the bathroom, where she stayed for some time.
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Okay...I wanna know what Nightmare's speech - in her native tongue, I presume - was.
Nightmare, what did you do?
Why do I get the feeling she gave a generic "I have come to rule you all! I have already subdued your leader!" alien speech?
5428576 Judging by Luna's reaction, I think it was something more... embarrassing.
Ooo Nighty, I really like you
5429336
Aha! I knew someone would figure at least one of the clues out! If you can figure out another, there should be a connection.
Oh how i eagerly await the next installment.
5429948
My apologies, I've been rather busy lately. I will endeavor to link all of the sequels together tomorrow.
Did she.. Did she describe a sexual experience in /very/ fine details?
oh nighty... you are such a naughty girl. i think moonbutt needs to give a proper... punishment.
5429922 THE EDMUND FITZGERALD, as in the famous Canadian cargo tanker that sank in Lake Superior. I am a NERD for that Ship, It even got a song, a SONG, and it is POPULAR.
5428457 Most likely an erotic story given how Luna needed mindbleach.
This version of Nightmare does not fit my headcannon... But I love her!
This Nightmare Moon makes me chuckle. But her assumption that humans as a whole are idiots makes me even more amused at just how big her ego is. I wonder how long until something comes along to change her mind? Then again she's vengence, on the other hand... *Taps his chin in thought and let's it trail off* Either way. Interesting way to set her up, i'm curious to see how this goes.
6336818 Same!
I NEED SOME FUCKING BLEACH
What I want to know is how Luna was not able to hear the speech, and acted like she was not present. Was she still passed out for it?
I am not really expecting an answer, since the author has been gone and I don't know how active the story would now be, but I am curious.
8873636
Yes, nigthmare take control of luna body in this time
Here