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Chapter 3

The Princess and her team of guards were in the forest until dark,
interrogating the disgusting creature with little success, when Luna
arrived after bringing out the night. She was much more cruel to him
than Celestia. She wasn't afraid to get her hooves dirty, either.

"You will-” a bloody cough interrupted him, “-regret your rash
actions, ignorant native. My kind will be back for revenge, and for the
riches of your planet," he said, blood dripping from his mouth.

Luna was facing away from him, looking up at the alien sky. "Please,
call us ponies." She turned back to him. "Do you know what we have
crafted, Batarian? It has been millennia since I last heard a story told
of what war is. What it was."

The batarian spat. "Weak. You are all weak. We will crush you with
eas—“ A stick across his forehead interrupted him. Luna's eyes narrowed
in a glare.

"We're a million times worse than anything you could imagine! There
was a time when we had to fight. Ages and ages ago all of ponydom was in
danger. Understand that you aren’t the first to threaten us. Do you
know what happened to those that came before you?" The batarian started
to speak, but she struck him across the face. Small streaks of green
smeared across his face from the leaves still attached to the crude
bludgeon. "They don't exist anymore! There's a reason no one ever foals
around with us anymore!” A guardpony approached her.

"Ma'am, the chariot has arrived," Starbuck whispered in her ear.
Above them a chariot descended, two pegasus pulling along a pair of
unicorns. The two of them stepped off carrying a doctor's bag and moved
over to the large alien sprawled across the ground.

Princess Luna," The white unicorn with bright red hair bowed before her and spoke with a heavy accent.

"Ah yes, Doctor Dustov; glad to see you could make it. He doesn't seem to want to answer our questions."

"I am glad Princess think so highly ov mine skills," she said. “But I
do not know vhere ve vill be vorking vith him. This place is too dirty
for scientific vork.”

“I’ll prepare him for transport. We’ve been out in the fields long
enough,” she said, a smile creeping across her face from feelings of
nostalgia. “I know just the place.”


Utter darkness. The batarian could feel himself lifting into the air
again. Pain screamed at him with each small movement of his broken
limbs. He lost track of time, fading in and out of consciousness, the
dreams mixing with reality, until reality rudely awakened him. He found
himself staring up at a blue-tinged light hanging down at him. He moved
his head to inspect his surroundings. The walls of the room were a
seamless dark grey-blue color, the only openings he could see were a
couple vents and a door to his right. He seemed to be strapped to a
table--not that he dared to move his arms or legs. Shock had dulled the
pain of his broken elbows and knees, but that didn’t stop the fear from
the terrible knowledge that he was now incapable of escape from creeping
into his psyche. The small natives were surprisingly strong, and he had
not counted on their brute strength overcoming his shields so easily.
Now that he thought about it, he was sure that the kinetic limits were
too high for melee combat, and he had been a fool to forget that
vulnerability. No one in the universe continued to use hand-to-hand
combat since the advent of mass-effect projectile weapons.

He racked his brain, thinking he recognized the form these natives
resembled. Perhaps a much, much lighter and pastel-colored version of
the elcor, but with hair. They were still unbelievably smooth; they
lacked the small, odd peculiarities of true organic material. It was as
if their skin had no texture to it, and when they turned, the edges of
their bodies blurred into fine curves. He had dismissed it before as a
trick of the eyes, but now he was sure. The evidence of this reality,
the pain he still felt in his chest and limbs, confirmed this wasn’t a
dream. His reverie was broken by the sound at the door.

The dark one with the long blue horn stepped through the opening,
followed by several other natives of a range of pastel hues. All of them
were wearing tissue across their faces, with goggles resting awkwardly
on their small foreheads.

“...Und here is patient,” he could hear the heavy accent in her
voice. He had been surprised that, despite the apparent lack of
spaceflight by inhabitants of this planet, they still spoke common quite
well. He spotted a couple large bags carried in the mouths of two that
followed behind her. They set it at the base of the table, their eyes
fixated on him. The dark blue one, obviously in charge, now stood over
him, looking down into his eyes. He gained a small amount of amusement
from her indecision of which eyes to look at.

“I am Princess Luna. You may address me as Princess if you wish,”
she spoke down to him in a commanding tone, “Now, we have some questions
for you that we would be most pleased if you answer, but I doubt
without proper motivation your tongue will loosen.”

"Are you going to torture me? That is against galactic law, native.”

“Torture?” she chuckled, “Stars, no. You see, we don’t hate you;
ponies are incapable of hate, darling. But we are curious...” Her eyes
drifted down to the other ponies at the end of the table. They had
opened their bags and were setting small silver tools on a tray, the
accented one directing them. One of them held a scroll mid-air and a
feather danced behind it, its end scratching against the parchment. A
smaller bag floated up, opening to reveal a sparkling pink powder.
“Doctor, please,” Princess Luna said as she looked at the white pony.
“If you give him the knock-out powder,” she paused to look down at him,
“he won’t be able to answer me.”

“Yes, mine Princess. Please, ask avay.”

“Oh, I think I’ll wait and watch a bit before starting the questions. Please, continue the procedure.”

“Yes, mine Princess.” The doctor moved nearer to his head and looked
at him. The goggles now covered her only set of eyes. “Now, for record,
are you colt or filly?” Another pony beside him with another quill and
scoll, scratched furiously on the parchment. The sounds grated in his
ears. “Und please,” she continued, “stay very still for moment, ve must
make picture of you.”

“I will never submit to your kind,” he said defiantly, “all your efforts are in vain.” Princess Luna looked down at him again. Her hair seemed to sparkle
and shimmer, flowing despite the stillness of the air in the room; from
his point of view the galaxy looked back at him from within it. “I can’t
give you the powder until you start talking, darling.” He felt
incredible, piercing heat on his chest. They were removing his armor,
exposing his bare chest.

“Now, ve will start vith ze epidermis, followed by ze muscular and
skeletal systems,” the doctor started, looking back at the others on the
other side of him. They listened to her intensely as she outlined what
they were about to do to him. His stomach turned at the prospect of
enduring any of that without anesthetic.

“You fools will kill me before I talk. You will never get your precious information!”

“No, dear,” Luna spoke again, her lilting voice filled with a false
affection, “we have become very, very good at keeping our patients
alive. We’ve had a long time to perfect our medicinal magic and
sciences.”

“Now, mine assistants,” the doctor spoke loudly, “ ve start at ze
right forearm. Please make notes very detailed as ve begin.”


Celstia walked slowly down the halls. The stale, sterile air down
here had remained undisturbed for many thousands of years, but she still
remembered the layout. Each wing for every specific purpose, each of
them part of this vast relic of ages past. How many years had it been
since something so drastic was required? How many years since anypony
had even dreamed about such wonders that were kept in this place? She
and Luna were the only ones who had lived long enough to
remember--remember why this was necessary, why these artifacts and
terrible things had been perfectly preserved. But she had recognized the
need, and realized that now was the time to dig them up again. This
place had miles of hallways and chambers, reinforced vaults and safes,
labs, workshops, and libraries filled to the rafters with books of
forbidden knowledge--at least it had been forbidden--and instruction
manuals and blueprints galore. It pained her heart that all of ponykind
would have to endure this again, but she was confident that they would
make it through. The power of friendship had seen to it before, and it
would see them through hard times again.


The librarian of Ponyville arrived home late. She had spent the day
reading in the park, followed by another party at Pinkie Pie’s house. A
large, formidable-lookinig pegasus pony clad in golden armor stood just
outside her door with a large package on his back. She walked up to him
and apologized.

“Sorry! Sorry I’m late. I hope you haven’t been waiting very long for me here.”

“It’s no problem, ma’am. I only just arrived,” he spoke in a deep,
guttural voice uncommon to most other ponies. He unhooked the package
from his back and handed it to Twilight, who floated it next to her.
“Princess Celestia sends her regards. Please take great care of this
parcel, ma’am.”

“Oh, of...of course...Thank you sir,” she responded hesitantly. It
wasn’t normal for Celestia to send a messenger, even moreso that Spike
hadn’t coughed it up earlier. The heavy package was wrapped in burlap
and bound with a thick leather belt. She made sure to close the door
behind her before unclasping it, revealing a small letter alongside the
spine of a large book.

No, she thought, this isn’t just a book, it’s a tome.

Gold filigree arced across the front and back page between the gold
trim, surrounding a unicorn symbol carved out of shiny obsidian set in
the front cover. She unrolled the scroll that bore the Royal Seal and
began to read it.

Twilight, my most faithful student,

I hope this finds you well. I had to be sure that it reached you
personally. Something very big is about to happen, something that will
effect all of Equestria. You will find this letter attached to a copy of
an ancient tome of pony history, and I ask you to read it entirely as
soon as possible. Please share the stories and secrets of this book with
your closest friends when you finish. However, its secrets must stay
secret until I write you again. Please, as you read, keep an open mind,
and understand that nothing remains the same forever.

Your teacher, Princess Celestia.

Princess Celestia didn’t often keep secrets as far as Twilight knew;
but then, the best-kept secrets are the ones you don’t know even exist.
She took the book up to her bed and got comfortable, setting the book
across her pillow. Twilight felt excitement at the length of the table
of contents, looking forward to a long night of reading what she knew
was a very rare book. This book wasn’t just any history book; it began
at a point several millennia ago, thousands and thousands of years
before the ordeal with Nightmare Moon, even before Equestria existed.
The pages turned faster and faster as she became more enthralled with
its epic tale, not even noticing Spike’s return to the Library.

“Twilight, are you ok?” Spike asked from the lower level. “Twilight!”

“Huh?” she replied, realizing her eyes had filled with tears. “Yes,
Spike, I’m, uh...I’m fine.” The secrets within this book truly were
terrible, and while she was flattered that the Princess had deemed her
worthy of this knowledge, she now wanted nothing to do with it. She
understood already why this had to be kept under lock and key, away from
the curious minds of innocent ponies. The book had a warning on one of
the earlier pages, advising the reader of something called “memetic
hazards,” but she had thought nothing of it; there was very little to
worry about in the realm of knowledge held by ponies, but now she knew
better.

She knew, and the burden to infect the minds of her friends weighed
heavily on her. But she trusted that whatever Princess Celestia had
planned kept the best interests of her subjects in mind. What could have
happened that would require the staining of her mind like this?

“Twilight, are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine, Spike, really. Just go to sleep. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”

“But it is morning. You’ve stayed up all night reading that book!”

“Well just let me finish it. Princess Celestia sent it to me and told me I needed to finish it as soon as possible.”

“Oh, ok. Want me to bring back something from Sugarcube Corner?”

“Yes. Thank you, Spike.”

Her sigh was ragged as she flipped another page. How long could she hold out to tell her friends?