The One Chapter Where Things Happen II: Electric Boogaloo
Ponyville was a strange town with a long, long history of weird things happening at all times of day or night that the inhabitants had learned long ago to simply deal with in silence. Tonight, however, the gods decided to have mercy, and so nothing broke, attacked, or came upon a friendship problem. Given the fact that two of the town's six newest members now had a lifespan measurable in weeks, it was no small mercy - but arguably, a cruel one. And the night couldn't last forever. A new dawn meant staring death in the face, and Dari'Nava was no Celestia.
So Aleph Squad came to.
Barx woke up, not having been killed in the night, checked the time, and began trudging towards the waypoint he had set at the edge of the Everfree.
Yelena woke up to the smell of breakfast, and wandered downstairs to find Fluttershy cooking. She had acted bashful at first, clearly remembering the food issue, but Yelena merely waved around a ration packet.
Dari'Nava was eventually roused by Twilight shoving her off of the chair she was sleeping on. She wasn't exactly very happy at first, but when Twilight showed her what she'd been working on over the past few hours, the quarian's eyes widened. Her expression softened slightly when, with a green pop, a scroll bearing the Celestial Seal dropped onto the table.
Hitman ceased searching for transmissions at three in the morning. It spent the rest of the night in deep thought about its predicament.
Sam woke up at seven in the morning like clockwork, getting up from the floor he'd been sleeping on to find Spike attempting to figure out how to move him to a bed. He wasn't very pleased when he was informed that Dari had slept downstairs, and he could have gotten into an actual bed.
Martilus woke up to the crowing of an alien animal, noting the sun slowly raising above the horizon. For a moment he could have sworn he'd seen a tiny, white prick of light from the direction of the city on the mountain, but it disappeared before his fatigued mind could truly register it, and he quickly moved on to more important things.
One way or another, the six members of Aleph Squad dragged themselves to the room of friendship.
“So. I see you all had a good night's rest,” began Sam, looking over the members of his squad. After having asked Twilight (something Sam defined as "letting her know in advance") they had decided to commandeer the room with the holotable from earlier before for inter-squad meetings. Besides mild annoyance at the fact a friendship problem might pop up in the middle of a meeting that might require their presence to solve, Twilight surprisingly didn't mind the fact they'd taken it over; not as much as she minded the name they'd chosen for it, anyways.
Sam had decided to name it the War Room; Twilight, being a Princess of Friendship, living inside a giant crystal castle of friendship, made by the Rainbow Power, which was distilled friendship, and having a room inside that castle that highlighted where problems of a friendship variety were, naturally had a few issues regarding his choice of name. The human refused to budge, though; and after reassuring Twilight that they wouldn't use the room for actual war planning she begrudgingly let them continue using it, on the condition their meetings were not secret and she and her friends could attend.
When told their friends would likely be eavesdropping, Sam shrugged. “Not like we'll be talking about state secrets or purple-princess-assassination-plans...” There had been a moment of quiet before the two, before Sam conspiratorially stated “I think I've said too much.”
He let out a grunt when Dari had slapped him on the back of the head.
Back in the present, Sam noted that the members of his squad actually did look fairly well-rested. He hadn't slept too well – his back hurt like hell – but in the end he could still reason and do things that weren't stupid, so he took that as a clearance to lead. “It's good you took the opportunity to sleep in. You were all a couple minutes late, but honestly, with no fighting to do I don't really give a damn. We've got worse things to deal with, anyways.”
The mood of the room darkened. Right now, only Twilight, Rarity, and Applejack were present. Pinkie was off doing Celestia-knows-what, Rainbow Dash was probably sleeping in, and Fluttershy was feeding her animals (something Yelena had conveyed). Rarity and Applejack got up at reasonable times, and Twilight...
Sam looked over to Twilight. The purple girl (mare?) looked absolutely frazzled; sprigs of her hair jutted out, and bags rested under her eyes. She reached a hoof up to rub one of them, and yawned, clearly tired – yet a burning determination to perform filled her eyes. Sam knew, then and there, Twilight was likely someone he could trust with his life.
“Twilight. Have you made any progress?”
“Yes, actually,” confirmed Twilight. “I've spent a very long time making sure the drawings were steady, but I was able to look at samples of your DNA under a magically enhanced microscope.” Twilight took a deep breath and readied a projection spell, before turning her head and casting it onto the wall.
Strange, amorphous blobs appeared on the wall – each one of them in a circle, and each one with a name under it. In the center “Control Group – Twilight Sparkle” was written. To the left; “Group A – Samuel Harrison.” To the right; “Group B: Martilus Hinfax.”
Martilus's proteins had no match.
“It's as I feared, then,” muttered the turian under his breath, in a tone of voice that suggested that he'd known this was coming, and prepared for it promptly. “Better two of us than three of us, really.”
“Twilight,” begged Sam. The alicorn looked through the windows to the Vanguard's soul and found nothing but desperation. “Please tell me you can do something.”
Twilight took another deep breath. “Unfortunately, as of right now, I don't have anything I can do. But I think I have some ideas. I'm going to need a tissue sample, Martilus. Not blood cells. I'm not going to rest until this is over – whether or not I succeed or fail.”
Applejack, for a moment, was overcome with a very sore temptation to remind Twilight of what had happened when she had tried to handle this situation alone. But this was a complicated, matter-of-life-or-death situation – the rules could be broken if it meant-
“And I'm not going to do it alone,” she continued. “Celestia wrote back to me.” Twilight levitated a scroll from seemingly nowhere, and unfurled it.
“Princess Sparkle,” she began, “I'd like to thank you for informing us about this event. While you have not given me very many details about the situation besides the bare minimum, I trust that you handled it in a safe and effective manner. It is excellent to hear the aliens that have landed are peaceful. I apologize for the brevity of this letter, but I feel it would be more pertinent to address our newest friends in person instead of via proxy. I, and Luna, will arrive in Ponyville at one in the afternoon. Please take care. Warmest regards, Princess Celestia.” She furled up the scroll in a magical “movement” she'd practiced so many times it was like breathing, to note the room was silent.
“Alright, ladies and gents,” quipped Sam, “we're going to be going on a hot date with royalty. Again, best behavior, be respectful, be courteous...” His face soured and he waved a hand. “Just don't cock it up or I'll ensure my last action in this world will be taking you out of it.”
He got nothing more than a few nods. The news that had been broken was rather dire. He turned back to Twilight. “And as for your plan re: us...?”
“I can't do this alone. One pony can only do so much. Which is why I plan to head to the University of Canterlot after the meeting and request the assistance of their entire biology and magic departments. The brightest minds in Equestria will ensure that you survive this.”
“And what if the university rejects your proposal?” questioned Sam.
“Easy,” replied Twilight, with a cool air of confidence. “I'll bypass the middlemare and ask them myself. They'll all jump at the chance to save alien lives. It might not be the correct decision, but lives are at stake here.”
Sam's mouth slowly quirked up into a smile. “Twilight, you get Mart and Dari through this and I'll get beers for all of you.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Beer? What's that?”
Precisely one second later, four heads hit the crystal table, the holographic map of Equestria flickering under the sudden impact before it stopped glitching and resumed normal function.
This is going to be a very long stay, thought Sam. “...It's a pretty long story. I'll tell you after you save my friends, then.”
“Alright,” went Twilight. “That concludes my part in this.”
Sam turned back towards the rest of the squad, who were sharing glances at each other. He knew that if their helmets were on, they'd definitely be complaining about their inability to get drunk on this deity-forsaken planet. Addicts, he thought. “So. How're you all doing? Are you settling in okay?”
“Yes,” replied Yelena. “Fluttershy has many animals of all types, but since she's still away feeding them, I'm sure that you're all aware of that fact. It is still... appreciably quiet, however. Perhaps she has used magic somehow to silence her room?”
“Apples are a nice bunch,” continued Martilus. “I'm not sure why they're so... appley all the time, but y'know, pretty clear they care. I broke their damn bed and they waved it off. If I live to see the end of this crisis I'll definitely fix it up for them. Least I can do.”
“Pie-Pinkie is an extremely strange individual,” intoned Hitman.
The geth was about to continue, but before it could, Pinkie's head shot up out of a nearby mug of tea. “Strange? Aww, how flattering~!” She seemed to revel in the confused stares she received.
“...Exhibit A,” droned the geth. “Besides our interactions, I have learned of the edible material “gingerbread”, mostly when Pinkie forced me to-”
“I'd say it was more guided,” interjected Pinkie.
“-construct a gingerbread house, despite my repeated attempts to inform her I had no need to consume food. Afterwards I continued scanning for signals until approximately 3:00 AM local time, at which point I entered deep thought.”
“Cred for your thoughts?” asked Dari.
Hitman's head flaps moved about. “No data available,” it answered. Nobody pressed the geth further – it wasn't willing to share its thoughts, and that was that.
Sam turned to Barx, who merely flicked his eyes over to Rarity. “It was nicer than I expected. A bit boring, but hey, I'll take it after the two weeks of constant fighting.”
“Nothing new to report, then?” assumed Sam.
“Nothing new,” confirmed Barx.
Dari'Nava took a look at the combined members of her squad. “Magic is hard. I was trying to parse a children's textbook and it quickly became confusing. Fell asleep in the chair I was sitting in, considering I had nothing else to do.”
“You lousy bitch,” joked Sam, “you shoulda friggin' told me, then I could've slept in an actual bed!”
“S'what you get, bosh'tet.” Dari flashed a smile – not that anyone could see it under the thick, purple tint of her envirosuit's faceplate. The two of them laughed, and some of the tension in the room was relieved.
“Alright then. Do what you wish, but we've two hours until we meet with royalty, and I want you back here in an hour fifty so we'll get ten minutes to prepare. No arson, no murder, and especially no jaywalking, got it?” Five salutes met him. “In that event, dismissed.”
One hour and fifty-three minutes passed without incident, and the last of the Elements and the Alephs trucked in - Pinkie Pie pranced in looking rather content with herself, Hitman following, with a fine covering of what seemed like chocolate, sugar, and cake batter over his frame.
"...do I want to know?" asked Sam.
"No," replied Hitman.
Sam let off an unsurprised sigh and shook his head. "Never thought I'd be saying this to a geth, but hit the showers. We've got about six minutes until the royals get here and I want you looking like you just stepped out of the plant."
"Acknowledged," responded Hitman, and the geth trudged off, leaving behind bits of baked good as he headed to clean himself.
While the rest of the Bearers engaged in lively discussion about being able to chat up the Princesses again, nobody from Aleph Squad spoke in the two minutes it took Hitman to rinse itself of its detritus and return to the entrance of the castle. They all had their own fears and hopes, but they were stone-faced, waiting on their guests as though they were enemies. They exchanged occasional glances, and after Hitman returned engaged in quiet small talk. But they looked, for all everypony knew, as though they were going to war.
“I wonder why they're so grim?” mused Rarity quietly, in a conversation with Applejack that had drifted towards the subject of the Alephs – it was tough not to, them being aliens.
“I wonder why, too,” agreed Applejack, with the same level of volume the fashionista had used. “They're actin' like Celestia'll kick 'em out. She won't. They're just getting worried over nothing.”
If any of Aleph Squad had overheard them, they didn't seem to hint they had.
The quiet mood reigned until the doors to the castle opened, two guardsponies equipped with spears trotting in. To the Alephs, they looked positively weak – armed with rudimentary melee weapons and plate armor that seemed designed to stop a sword, a mass effect round from a ''weak'' weapon like Dari's plasma SMGs would still tear through what they wore with the same sort of effort one would use to pick up a phone, or open a door, or pull the trigger on a submachine gun. A third followed along, the mare facing down the Bearers and Aleph Squad without fear.
“Presenting the Solar and Lunar Diarchs!” she announced, before heading outside.
Celestia and Luna walked into the room, and when they did, everything else seemed to dim and lose focus compared to them. They were both visibly taller than the rest – Luna, the shortest of the two, came up barely short of their head level, as compared to everypony else, who only really reached up to their chest, and Celestia, who could stare them in the eyes without having to rear up. But it wasn't that which had caused the rest of the castle to blur. Nor was it their hair – waving in wind that didn't exist, one set shining various light colors and the other being stylized after the night sky – that had caught their attention.
What had caused this sudden deference to authority was the easily recognizable aura of experience that pervaded them. They weren't used to just how ''big'' the Twin Sisters' aura was, however – whereas the most they had seen were krogan battlemasters that had experienced over eight hundred years of combat, from a glance you could tell that they had seen shit for far longer than that. Martilus ballparked them as having led the country for two thousand years, at minimum – potentially far more than that. They were bound to have made some tough or outright demonic choices, if they had ruled for that long.
The Elements bowed before the Princesses – even Twilight, the actual Princess. Aleph Squad quickly found themselves doing the same, humbled by the weight of the lives that had came before them. The only two who did not immediately bow were Hitman – who quickly realized what was going on and bowed half a second after everyone else – and Barx, who merely folded his arms and waited.
His reward was for Celestia to skip everyone else – skip the Elements, skip even the new arrivals – and walk directly up to him, looking up into the krogan's eyes and past his miles of teeth. Barx did not bend before the arrival; he mutely stared back, and for a moment Sam wondered if his natural krogan stubbornness and refusal to bow to unrecognized authority would cost them their lives (even if not directly, by proxy).
Ten seconds later, Celestia smiled. “So you have backbone, I see.”
“I'll bow to you when you've earned the right,” responded Barx.
Celestia nodded. “Very well. We shall earn it, then. To the rest of you, you may rise.” The Bearers and the remainder of the Alephs rose to their positions – Sam in particular giving Barx a baleful glare the krogan seemed to shrug off as though an archer had failed to pierce his thick hide. The Princesses shifted their attention to Aleph Squad – Luna looking very much willing to let Celestia lead in regards to their unwitting visitors.
“So you are the soldiers Princess Twilight has been talking about? You certainly look the part. Your armor looks scored.” She took a moment to sniff the air. “...And I think the golem showers more often than you all do.”
“What can I say?” responded Sam, with a lopsided smile. “When you're out in the field, running water is an impossible luxury.” Luna giggled slightly beside Celestia as Sam took a moment to add in a pertinent fact; “We don't exactly have a change of clothes with us, here. All we're wearing under this armor are skinsuits designed to help us interface with the armor's computer systems. We're basically nude under this.”
“I... do not see the problem,” stated Celestia, somewhat confused.
Aleph Squad shared several looks before Sam chose to clarify with three quick words; “Cultural reasons, Princess.”
Celestia nodded in understanding. “Very well. I have also heard that you wish to stay in Equestria for the long haul, correct?”
“We have nowhere else to go,” confirmed Sam. “For all we know we might not even be in our home galaxy. Our only way off-planet is busted, and even if we ''could'' use it, it wouldn't be of much help. We can't leave.”
Celestia frowned. “I'm sorry to hear of the situation you've found yourselves in. But you seem like you will be able to hang on just fine.” Celestia turned to face the Bearers, all of whom stared at her with the reverence one would expect from a deity rather than a living being. “My little ponies, I trust that they have given you no trouble?”
Twilight shook her head. “Not at all. Dari'Nava seemed eager to learn... at first, anyways. I think she gave up after five minutes with a children's book.”
“Hitman is cool!” Pinkie, animated as ever, quickly launched into a tirade about her friend that barely anyone else was able to pick up – mentioning how he was pretty good at baking things, and how she had found that out because he didn't know what kinds of food ponies ate, so she took it upon herself to “teach” him. After a few moments Celestia stuffed her hoof into Pinkie's mouth, but this didn't stop her, as she merely continued to try and speak, though all that did was muffle her speech to the point where it was now completely unintelligible instead of just partially.
“Pinkie,” said Celestia, “you can stop now.”
Pinkie nodded, and Celestia removed the hoof from her mouth, cleaning it of spit via the power of telekinesis.
“Barx is... uh... ah...” Not having actually spent any time with the krogan, Rarity quickly found herself with nothing she could say. After a few moments, Applejack stared at her. “Y'all never brought Barx back, did ya?”
Rarity dipped her head. “No.”
Sam looked over to Barx, who shrugged. “I went out into the Everfree. Nice place. Makes me think of Tuchanka before the nukes fell.”
“Barx,” began Sam, “you are missing the point. I gave you a direct order that you disobeyed. So tonight everyone gets to escort you to Carousel Boutique. I won't even ask if you got that, I'll just repeat it for you when it's time to go.”
Barx grunted noncommittally in response, which Applejack took as her signal to continue. “Martilus is a right gentlecolt! Course, there's that problem where he can't eat food... but y'know, he's polite. He offered to work on the farm in exchange for a place to stay. Even looked mighty guilty when he ended up breaking the bed he was s'pposed to sleep in.”
“Sam's a pretty cool dude, actually. Dude's got a joke for nearly every situation. He's pretty good at bowling, too. Has to grip the ball pretty weirdly, but he can make the thing fly where he wants.”
Fluttershy, for a moment, looked worriedly at Aleph Squad, before she decided to speak the truth – she did have her friends here, after all. “Yelena is... she's relatively quiet. I get the feeling she's very old, almost as much as Barx. I... didn't really spend much time with her, but she seems decent.”
"Rave reviews," commented Luna, with a lopsided smirk. Celestia smiled at her sister, before turning towards Aleph Squad. "As you have already overheard, the Bearers of Harmony have stated that... well, most of you are decent. Given your current situation I see no issue in granting you asylum in Equestria. However, if you would like to attain the benefits of citizenship you will not be able to sidestep the process, and will have to become Equestrian citizens the same way other immigrants will."
"Noted," acknowledged Samuel.
"However... while I am here, I don't suppose any of you would mind an... indulgence? I would like to speak to aliens. One-on-one. I feel as though I may not get this opportunity for another several hundred years."
Aleph Squad looked amongst each other, all of them sharing the same look of general apathy on the subject, before Samuel refocused on Celestia. "I don't see a problem with it. And I don't think the rest of my squadmates do, either. Which one first?"
"Hmm..." Celestia made a great show out of thinking, before pointing at Barx with a hoof. "You first."
Barx smirked, and headed away into a side room with Celestia and Luna, leaving Aleph Squad alone with their thoughts.
A good two hours were spent this way, Celestia and Luna interviewing each member of Aleph Squad.
“You didn't bow to us when we entered, Barx. Could you explain?”
Barx did not react. “I already did, Celestia.”
“Then explain again,” compounded Luna. Barx grunted in response, as if to acquiesce to their request. “You are both old. You are both leaders. But you have done nothing to earn my respect. When you have, I will bow like the rest, but until then, I will not give any respect that hasn't been earned. No shortcuts, Princesses.”
It was really nothing but an indulgence anyways. Celestia did trust Twilight and her judgement; and so if Twilight had judged that, even if strange, Aleph Squad were good people, she saw no reason to disbelieve her.
“I will pose no threat to your kingdom.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow, while Luna continued to look on, her face unchanging. “Jumping to conclusions, Ms. Nasari?”
Yelena folded her arms. “It is why you have brought me in here alone, is it not? To determine whether or not I would be a threat to your subjects, with no word but my own to give on the matter.”
“Oh, I trust Twilight. If she thinks you are not a threat to the kingdom then you aren't. I'd just like to talk to aliens. Is that so evil an act?"
Yelena narrowed her eyes, searching Celestia for any veneer of ulterior motive, before her shoulders fell.
“Apologies, Princess. I am admittedly not used to political figures not having ulterior motives.”
Luna quirked an eyebrow. "What is politics like for your species?"
The look Yelena gave her suggested that nobody in the room wanted to hear.
Of course, however, Celestia also liked determining things for herself. It wasn't as though she would pick up any latent evil or disharmonious characteristics that Twilight and her friends wouldn't have, but there was still nothing quite like doing things yourself. It was something she barely got to do - though a lot of it was just her being lazy.
“Why do you wear the suit?”
Dari'Nava rolled her eyes, and prepared to explain the nuances of the quarian environmental suit for the third time this week to people who didn't know about it. For a moment she felt as though she could take a career in IT, based primarily on how she was able to explain a simple concept over and over again without being overcome by the urge to grab the nearest sharp object and thrust it into the eyes of the nearest living being until it stopped moving.
Of course, given these were space aliens, Luna was a little more wary.
Celestia and Luna stared at Hitman with cold, unfeeling eyes.
Hitman “stared” at Celestia and Luna with electro-optical sensors.
Luna began this time. “Dari'Nava has told me of the war you and her species were involved in. I presume you will not be restarting it here?”
Before Celestia could chide her sister on being too aggressive, Hitman responded. “Negative. Shepard-Commander brokered peace between the geth and the Creators. Shepard-Commander is presumed KIA in the Reaper War. To attempt to kill a Creator afterwards is unthinkable. It would be, to use an organic term, spitting in the face of everything Shepard-Commander has done for the geth.”
“Shepard-Commander?” inquired Celestia.
“Shepard-Commander,” confirmed Hitman, before the geth launched into a detailed historical account of Shepard's antics, which lasted for five minutes before Celestia held up a hoof and smiled.
In the end, however, all Celestia was doing was just taking a break from her busy, stressful job by doing something interesting.
“Rainbow Dash tells me you are quite the funny person.”
Sam smirked in response to Celestia. “Yeah. You have to be out there. Everyone copes with the shit they see differently. Me? Sense of humor about it all. If you can't laugh about life you won't be experiencing it very long.”
“Then humor me,” said Celestia, smiling a little at her unintentional pun.
For a moment, Sam balked. “You assume I'm a stand-up comedian?”
“Yes,” replied Celestia.
Sam took a moment to look about. “Why wasn't the chicken able to cross the road?”
There was a moment of silence.
“Wasn't?” asked Luna.
“Yes. Wasn't.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Because it was disabled.”
There was a moment of silence.
"...tough crowd out there tonight."
Not that Luna didn't get to speak as often.
“Apologies if it is a sore subject, but how, exactly, did you break Applejack's bed?”
Martilus raised his hand to the back of his neck, staring down the Princess of the Night with something resembling mild embarassment. “Funny story about that... turns out I'm really, really spiky. Like, very spiky. And it also turns out that turian armor systems weigh a lot. 'Bout an anvil. So I slip into a bed I'm surprised to see is my size expecting to get a good night's sleep, and next thing you know, crack. Like a gunshot. A gunshot that just destroyed the bed I was sleeping in.”
“Interesting story,” commented Luna, sounding slightly amused.
“Well, I could tell you about the time I fought a Thresher Maw in hand-to-hand combat and killed it single-handedly, but I don't think you're interested in tall tales.”
Eventually all of the members of Aleph Squad found themselves back in the main room. The Elements had taken time to amuse themselves; they had begun playing a board game of some sort, that wasn't easily identifiable. Whatever it was, however, they were rather clearly entrenched in it, and so the Princesses and the soldiers let them play their game while Dari and Sam spent the time trying to figure out exactly what it was being played.
Of course, after a few moments to give the Alephs time to rest, Princess Celestia cleared her throat - an action which broke the concentration of everypony playing the game, and caused them to immediately look towards their ruler.
"Twilight, you've certainly attracted a colorful bunch of off-worlders," began Celestia, before she looked towards Aleph Squad. "It was a pleasure to talk to all of you. I don't get many opportunities like this - the job of a Princess is a stressful one. Even during the night I sometimes still get called to rule. I would like to make it clear, however, that your asylum here also places you under Equestrian law, though I doubt any of you have any intention to break it. I feel as though it is pertinent to bring up."
"Got it," responded Sam.
Celestia nodded. “With this in mind, are there any further questions?”
“Actually, yes,” Twilight stated. “I am not sure if they have informed you already, but two of the aliens – Martilus and Dari'Nava – are biologically incompatible with the world around them. They have extremely little rations and will die very soon unless something is done. I am requesting the assistance of the University of Canterlot to help solve the issue.”
“Granted,” allowed Celestia, who immediately addressed Team Dextro. “You will live. I will not allow aliens to die so soon after having met them.”
“Pull a miracle,” commented Martilus, “and I'll be in your debt for a very long time.”
“If you consider “zero” to be a long time, then sure. Now come, Twilight. There is work to be done.” Celestia and Luna turned around and began to leave. Martilus's jaw hung open and his mandibles fluttered in shock, as Twilight turned back towards the mass of people.
“I won't let any of you down,” vowed Twilight, and she left with the Princesses. A hushed silence fell over the castle, before Samuel addressed his squadmates.
“You did well today. Remember, we're still on break. So long as you don't go and cause mass collateral damage you're free to do whatever you wish. With one exception. I distinctly remember a little friend of ours who disobeyed direct orders.”
Sam turned to stare at Urdnot Barx, who could only groan.
The procession of heavily armored individuals through town wasn't exactly a shock to anyone anymore. This was mostly because the Elements were with them, and also because they had already seen those individuals at least once. What was shocking, however, was that the largest one was directly in front of the rest – save for Rarity, who seemed to be taking a path back home.
Barx grit his teeth. “Sam, you know I'm not one for fashion-”
“Barx, I'm stopping you right there. I gave you an order-”
“-a bullshit order-”
Sam sighed. “-but an order nonetheless. You asked for an alien to bunk with and that's what I gave you. So you're staying at Rarity's for tonight at least.”
Barx growled, and at least two ponies watching meekly ducked back into their houses. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
Sam's response was a quick, clipped “Denied.”
“Fuck you.”
“Well,” began Rarity, “it's not as if I'm having much fun hosting you either. I'm not sure I even have the room to keep you here. But I can keep you around. Who knows? You might even be a help.”
Barx rolled his eyes as the procession eventually came within sight of Carousel Boutique. The combination workspace/house looked fairly tall, shaped somewhat like a pink-and-purple castle. Barx cast his eyes over it, and wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.
Well, if this is where I'm going to stay...
Rarity's horn glowed purple, the aura of light also surrounding the doorknob. In a move that was as simple to Rarity as twisting a wrist would be to a human she twirked the doorknob right, and the door flew open. Barx wasn't impressed with the lightshow, however. He scrutinized the doorway, and found it was immediately small enough he'd need to crouch to get in without smacking his hump or his head against the top. He also found that, despite the ponies being about four feet tall on average, the entrance could very easily fit an adult human with room to spare.
Barx wasn't too sure what to think about that, so he decided to say nothing.
“Barx,” called Sam, “think of this as a guard mission. Sweep and secure the premises, then hold it from an enemy attack.”
“An enemy that isn't coming. Sure.” Barx ducked down and shoved himself through the doorframe. “Eat shit and die.”
Sam smiled and waved. With a final “Love you too, bae,” he turned to the rest of the Alephs, and uttered one word: “Dismissed.” They immediately dispersed, pairing off with the friends they'd made yesterday, leaving Barx inside Carousel Boutique, a place that seemed almost too small for him.
He quietly closed the door after they had all left, and turned around. He wasn't entirely sure what a boutique was; living on Tuchanka tended to mean that krogan found fashion rather minimalist, if they even entertained the thought of fashion. As he looked around at the various piles of fabrics, the mirrors and tables, the mannequins (most of which were fully gussied up, to a point that seemed almost absurd to the krogan), he found the Boutique was slightly roomier than he had expected. Of course, he had yet to check the upstairs level; he wasn't even sure if it would be able to support his bulk, given it was made of wood.
Barx heard hissing, and he turned around to face a small cat that looked like an overfluffed pillow hissing at him. If the display had been intended to induce fear in the krogan, it wasn't working; Barx merely felt annoyed. “Great. I get to deal with a tiny ball of fluff that hates me in a place I don't want to be in.”
“Hates?” Rarity walked past him, her hooves clicking across the floor. “That's such a strong word, don't you think?”
“That's a predator,” pointed out Barx. “It may not look threatening, but there is hate in its eyes. Heh, too bad it's not even the size of my arm.”
“A predator?” Rarity seemed shocked by the implication. “Opalescence is not a predator!” She began closing in on the cat. “She is a cute, cuddly-wuddly ball of lov-”
Opalescence slashed at her with a paw that barely missed Rarity, who ducked out of the way rather sheepishly. “-e and hehehehe okay you might have a point.” If there was any break in her composure, however, it quickly reformed itself. “Still. You will treat Opalescence with respect while you are in this house.”
“I thought it was a boutique,” jabbed Barx.
Rarity huffed. “Technicalities do not change the intent of my message.”
“So long as it doesn't try to kill me then we have a deal.” Barx folded his arms and shifted on his feet, and Rarity nodded and looked to Opalescence. “Hurt this… fine specimen, here, and you will be getting a bath every day straight for a week.”
Opalescene's eyes grew wide, the cat immediately letting out an aggressive meow and arching its back, but Rarity didn't even flinch at the display of aggression. “You are under my roof. Get over it.”
Opalescence aggressively purred, such that it seemed like the cat was growling, before she stalked off. Rarity took a moment to ensure it was actually headed somewhere else, and threw in a quick “And you even touch my dresses and I swear by Celestia...” She turned around and released a breath. “I apologize. Opalescence will not bother you during your tenure here.”
Barx grunted. Rarity blinked. “...no thank you?”
“You stopped a minor annoyance. I'll thank you when you've saved my life.”
Rarity huffed. “Well, I never.” She immediately stalked off much like Opalescence, leaving Barx alone with his thoughts.
He found a small part of the Boutique and carefully sat down so as not to break through the floor. He was stuck with nothing to do for a few hours, and if he left Sam would certainly know (he wasn't sure of the exact method, but Barx would swear on his children the man had a hundred eyes). He'd probably have free reign after today, but that still didn't fix the fact he was going to be a very bored krogan until he went to sleep.
The door opened and a bell rang, and Barx saw a slightly smaller pony enter, looking sort of like a lighter-colored version of Rarity. “Rarity, I'm home!” She looked around, and her vision immediately crossed over Barx's battle-scarred form.
Her pupils widened.
What was it that humans called it? A monkey's paw?
Several hours passed without incident.
Samuel Harrison stood outside on the balcony after a day that Rainbow Dash called “fun”, but Sam called “terrifying”. It had mostly involved a lot of flight, with only her forelegs keeping Sam from a very long fall, followed by a very sudden stop, then little else. He found it strange how, a very long time ago, humans had a tough time trusting machines to do jobs for them, to keep them safe.
Now? He had a tough time trusting Dash to not let him go during an aileron roll at speeds close to sound. He'd rather have been performing the aileron rolls inside a fighter.
And yet, here I am.
He cast his gaze out over Ponyville, the hamlet looking much like a scene from a fairytale book, complete with Canterlot, the castle balanced precariously on the side of a mountain, a monument to what seemed like the impossible, though he didn't doubt there was some bastardized form of physics behind it. Probably just magic, he corrected, considering how proliferous its use was.
Of course, if nothing else, the daredevil flight had distracted him from the plight of his squad. He didn't show it, but beneath the kinetic barriers and the carbide ceramics he was deeply worried for Martilus and Dari'Nava. The two didn't have much food – nobody had, at least until Twilight revealed the food here was levo – and he suspected that even on starvation rations they'd run out tonight. And then what?
He looked over towards Canterlot. More than ever he wished he had a set of binoculars with him. A helmet had magnification, yes, but it wasn't enough to look over the distances a set of binoculars could. Maybe he could locate the University of Canterlot, spot Twilight Sparkle, and watch their effort to save his squadmates from afar.
He didn't notice the quiet whoosh of a pegasus dropping in on him, transfixed as he was by his own thoughts. Rainbow Dash arrived to a man who stared ahead with the thousand-yard-stare she'd seen on some veteran Guardsponies. He wasn't even attempting to camouflage the fact that something was on his mind, and even though she'd only met the guy a day ago, she decided to talk to him about it.
“Bit for your thoughts?” she inquired. Sam turned his head to look at her, and it seemed as though he was looking past her than at her. After a few moments he caught himself and his vision refocused. “No, you… you wouldn't want to know,” he said.
“It's about… uh… spiky dude and suit mare, isn't it?”
“Martilus and Dari'Nava, yes,” grumbled Sam. “I'd appreciate you not prying further on it, okay?”
“Alright, if that's what you want,” said Dash, and she reared up and rested her forelegs on the balcony, staring out at Canterlot. She didn't have much else to do, and figured he could use the company.
A small stretch of silence that was somewhere between “companionable” and “awkward” ensued, before Sam finally decided there was little harm in speaking up. After all, they all knew, didn't they? And it wasn't like he was going to be leaving tomorrow. “Yeah, it's about them. I'm… worried, to say the least. I mean, we have been through so much shit together… and here I am, stranded on an alien world, trusting somebody I don't even know, using something I still know nothing about, to save them. It doesn't feel very good, having to just sit by, watch, and pray.”
Dash quietly patted the man on the back, his ceramic armor making a rather chunky and deep noise as her hoof contacted it. “Hey, chin up. Twilight's the smartest mare I know, the eggiest of heads. And she's working with an entire other department of eggheads. They'll solve this.” She sounded sure of herself – like it wasn't hanging in the air; as though them solving this issue and allowing two of his... well, at this point, siblings to live wasn't an issue that could go either way, but something they did every Tuesday for kicks, especially given they were being paid to do so.
“If you're so sure, Dash, I'll beli-”
“Sam, she turned a frog into a living orange, and that was her not even trying,” interjected Dash. “She's stopped a massive bear as big as Town Hall, managed to reset our cutie marks after a spell scrambled them, and then became a demi-god for having done so. If she puts her mind to it that mare can do anything. She will save your friends, because something as big as this? She's already done it. And knowing her, she's probably written down the solution and made it into a checklist.”
Sam searched for something, anything he could use to try and disprove her argument, but she sounded like an absolute believer. Given what little he'd seen of magic, it didn't seem that far of a stretch to believe it could do those things. And Twilight had both wings and the horn – and the Princesses were the only other ones he'd seen like that.
Also, you are arguing against the survival of two of your best friends. You are stupid. Calm down and pray. Sam sighed. “Well... hey, it's not like I've got anything else to put my faith in, right? Twilight or bust. Here's hoping she can work a miracle.”
Dash sighed and pressed her hoof to her face. “What do you not get about this, Sam? It's not going to be a miracle, because she is going to solve this.”
“I wouldn't be too sure of that, Rainbow,” chided Sam. “I've blown away many a man who thought he'd won before the fight had even started. Hoping she can get it done? Believing she can get it done? That's cool. But assuming she'll do it, that's the big kicker.”
“Do me a favor, Sam,” muttered Dash, “and shut the hell up before I make you.”
“Oh, is that a threat?” A lopsided smile grew on Sam's face. “Are you threatening me? Help! Police! Domestic abuse!”
“Oh, you wouldn't dare,” bluffed Rainbow, smiling as well as the topic shifted away from grim things and towards general fucking around.
“My dear Dash, all is fair in love and war, and last I checked, we aren't fucking each other to death, so clearly it's the killing business we're a part of.”
“In which case,” countered Dash, “you're not gonna mind too much if I do pound you into stuffing. After all, it's just business.”
“Shit, you've got me there,” conceded Sam.
“Whenever you two are done bickering like a married couple, may I please speak with Samuel?” The two on the balcony turned to register a third present – Yelena Nasari, whose arms were folded, but who was also filled with the mirth that seemed to follow the pegasus and the squad leader wherever they went. “I have a few things I need to discuss with him. In private, if you don't mind too much.”
Dash nodded. “Oh, sure, chase me off, why don't'cha! Alright, I'll let you two fuck each other to death, then,” she said, elbowing Sam with one of her forelegs as she hovered off of the ground.
“Is there something going on that I am not privy to, Lieutenant?” chided Yelena.
“Yeah, and it's called 'know your role and shut your mouth',” Sam shot back.
“Anyways, I can see the foreplay's getting off to a good start, sooo I'm out! See ya, nerds!” Dash shot off, leaving a rainbow imprint in the air as she roared off at the velocity of a fighter. Yelena turned more serious as she left, heading over to the balcony. “Samuel, does anything about this place strike you as familiar?”
“A lot, actually,” began Sam. “I mean, ponies. Ponies. That's the sapient species we encounter here. And they threw in pegasi and unicorns, too, 'cause just having ponies that look like they walked out of a crayon drawing wasn't enough for them.”
Yelena nodded. “A lot of things do look like they come from Earth, or from your culture.”
“Tell me about it, Ms. Not-Earthling. There's so much shit here that's instantly familiar that it's not even funny. It's almost like this was a world constructed instead of made... there's just no chance that a similar ecosystem to Earth would evolve here, but also with magic and horses instead of apes.”
“I doubt that,” added Yelena, “but something has to have caused these similarities. Perhaps it is just a cosmic coincidence.”
“I don't know... but if this saves my friends, I'll take it at face value. And I'll treat it as seriously as it wants to be treated.”
Neither of them spoke for a minute, both of them staring at Canterlot as the sun lazily drifted down towards the horizon.
“Do you think she'll be able to do it?”
“What else can I bet on?” replied Martilus. The two of them stared out over Sweet Apple Acres, Dari having come mostly on Martilus's request. They'd shot the shit, made off-color jokes, and then without any provocation, Dari had pointed towards the mountain and asked. “I mean, it's either this or starving to death. Or putting a bullet into my skull, and over the past two days I've considered that far more than I'd like to admit.”
“Understandably so,” commented Dari'Nava. “I don't have faith in this 'magic.' It just seems too smoke and mirrors for my tastes. I tried to read a children's book and found myself incapable of understanding.”
“Let me refer you to my first answer,” recommended Martilus; “what else can I bet on? Either it's smoke and mirrors or bang. And personally, I'm going to hedge my bets with the option that lets the last thing through my head be an actual thought, as opposed to a tungsten penetrator.”
“Suit yourself,” replied Dari. “I'm just saying, I don't have much faith in this venture.”
Martilus looked around for a moment, then, under his breath, offered “I'll bet you 20 creds Twilight saves us.”
Dari's eyes lighted up for a moment, but her voice was still layered thick in sarcasm when she responded. “Oh, sure, let me just fetch the currency that doesn't work here so I can make a bet on my own death with you. I'm not giving you 20 credits, you jackass.”
“Shit,” swore Martilus. “Well, at least it was worth a shot.”
“I'll give you a shot,” threatened Dari'Nava.
“Will you give me a lollipop afterwards?”
Dari's eyes narrowed. “I meant shot as in a bullet. A bullet to your stupid, spiky face.”
“Well,” Martilus continued, “that isn't necessarily a no...”
“What would you even want a lollipop for? You won't want when you're dead,” questioned Dari.
Martilus scratched his chin for a moment, thinking about how to properly respond to this. “Maybe I want to look pretty when I die. Or maybe you want to fake my death. Say I choked on a lollipop and that you tried to help me, but by the time you got it out it was too late.”
“You bosh'tet, I'm shooting you with a gun. Everyone for kilometres around is going to hear. How can I fake that?”
“Gas main blew.”
Dari folded her arms. “And the hole in your head?”
“Trepanning.”
“Who even trepans anymore? That'd get me fired for being a quack.”
“Well maybe you shouldn't shoot your patients in the face, then, Doctor vas Tonbay. Then people won't start asking uppity questions about your secret assassination service.”
“Well... I am the best cleaner around,” juked Dari'Nava. “And there's only one industry where you learn how to clean blood out of things and disguise bodily injuries – medicine.”
Martilus laughed. “Who was that one human, who made an oath for doctors to do no harm? I bet you he's spinning in his grave right now.”
“Good,” frowned Dari'Nava, even though nobody could tell, “then we can hook up a generator and his corpse might be useful for something. Besides, I'm not human, last I checked.”
The two shared in a companionable silence, interrupted only by the rumbling of their bellies – their personal harbingers of doom.
Martilus looked over to Dari. “How much you got left?”
“One meal, even with starvation rations.”
“Same here,” confirmed Martilus. “Our last meal?”
“How poetic,” replied Dari'Nava, as she pulled her last ration packet out of her pocket.
“I'm going to savor this,” remarked Martilus. The two of them sat down and began eating.
Hitman sat in rather compact form inside Pinkie's room as that particular party pony gossiped with Gummy about recent happenings. The geth was able to pick out many, many statements regarding Aleph Squad, but yet even with the pony beside it it felt alone. The collective was gone. Not even a trace of earlier signal. This part of the galaxy was empty.
Its deep thought from earlier had partly been an attempt to see if it could do something. There was only one other geth on the planet right now and it was too busy making sure Dari'Nava was becoming accustomed to Equestria's air. And even if it was going to construct its own collective, how exactly did it plan to do so? Equestria didn't have anywhere near the technological or computational might to build something that could hold a geth conscience. And even if that was true, the problem lay with making one; cloning was definitely out of the question due to a myriad of ethical issues. Hitman was still as alone as it ever was in the universe.
Sure, it wasn't alone, but in the past it had constantly been connected to the collective. It had constantly shared its thoughts, its memories. To be suddenly jerked away like this was nearly maddening; it was a wonder the geth hadn't went insane (though it also wondered if going insane was a possibility). Pinkie, at first, had talked to Hitman frequently, seeing as the geth was so silent, but after repeatedly assuaging the organic that it wasn't anything wrong with her, she had eventually decided to leave the geth in peace. Not that it was a problem, anyways; it was more about assuaging her in the first place. Hitman thought at light speed; even with Pinkie's motor mouth there was plenty of time to form a response, and the geth, in conversations with organics, often found itself doing so before organics had even finished talking. Pinkie was the first sapient being that was coming close to giving considerable delay between responses.
Hitman's train of thought eventually came to rest on Ponyville itself. The geth decided that it was going to need to learn the town if it was to live here; it could also provide a similar service to its squadmates through creating a map of the town and uploading it to their omni-tools. Even with no extranet connection, the omni-tools of the squad were more than capable of forming their own meshnet; Hitman could bring up the position of any of its squadmates, though given there was no global positioning system around Equestria it could only bring up their positions relative to itself. A map of the town would likely help solve this problem, as it could cross-reference its own location with the distance and direction of its squadmates, and be able to make an accurate guess as to where they were located. It was something to busy itself with, as well. All it needed to do was go out and actually do it.
The geth's head swiveled to focus on Pinkie, and she stopped talking to Gummy and stared down the machine. Gummy, for his part, continued with his enlightened thoughts, blissfully damned to wonder about all that was going on.
Hitman knew that Pinkie knew everyone in town. Hitman knew that Pinkie would jump to help it, provided the geth asked.
So Hitman did just that.
Hitman tried its best to act unsurprised when Pinkie began dragging the geth through town – literally at first, until the geth politely stated that “This platform is capable of self-locomotion” - eliciting a “Whoops! Sorry!” from Pinkie as she let go and let the geth stabilize itself before it continued onwards. As they traveled through town, Pinkie again bouncing along like a rabbit, complete with a sproing every time she hopped, Hitman received no stares. The town had finally gotten used to its presence – either that, or they just assumed Pinkie was being Pinkie and decided it would be best not to interfere.
That in mind, the geth was focused on things other than what the locals thought of it. It was currently mapping its path relative to where it started, roughly tracing out distance, elevation, and directional changes with Sugarcube Corner being the new “zero”. It would likely be able to access topographical maps to provide proper altitude measurements if necessary; that would take a quick trip to the town hall, that could easily be done after Pinkie's grand tour.
As she moved through town she rattled off what every building was; most of them were houses and she named their inhabitants, a colorful bunch in every way – least of all names, like “Lyra”, “Daisy”, and “Cheerilee” to name just a few. There were also several businesses or public services – Ponyville, it turned out, had a mail office, a fashion shop (in the form of the “Carousel Boutique” that Rarity lived and worked in), and a store called “Quills and Sofas” that seemed to eminently sell writing implements and seating, and nothing else.
At the mention of this Hitman turned towards Pinkie, quirking an eye prow. “How has this store remained in operation selling only two types of items?”
Pinkie shrugged. “Iunno. How should I know?”
Hitman thought for a moment on calling out Pinkie, but – in a manner that was not dissimilar to its operation pre-Rannoch – decided that it wasn't a very smart idea to do so, and so held its metaphorical tongue.
This tour continued for quite some time. After a short stop to ask Pinkie the direction of magnetic north Hitman was capable of assigning a compass to the map; utilizing brief measurements and heresay it was also able to add out-of-Ponyville estimations, mostly in the format of “towards a location”, such as the Everfree, Canterlot, or Fluttershy's cottage, which was far enough away from Ponyville to not be considered part of it.
After two hours its operation was complete, but the sun had set. Despite this, tonight there was a full moon, so there was no problem seeing – and Hitman figured Pinkie probably had an organic equivalent of an advanced warning system, so it never offered a light. They were able to find their way back to Sugarcube Corner without incident, where the geth turned to Pinkie before they stepped indoors.
“Thank you for your assistance, Pie-Pinkie,” proffered Hitman. “With your help I have made a map of Ponyville to utilize in future navigation.”
“Any time, Hitmanerino!” Pinkie was as chipper as ever. “But it's pretty late, and I'm pretty tired! I'd like to get some sleep, if that's alright with you!”
Hitman's eye flaps moved about for a moment. “You are not showing any signs of fatigue.”
“Silly Hitman!” chided Pinkie, as she slipped beside him, stood on her hind legs, and threw a foreleg around his shoulder. “I go out like a light! You don't need to worry about me being kept up by anything!”
For a moment Hitman briefly thought of going to Town Hall. But considering the time of night, cross-referenced with the fact Ponyville barely even qualified as a ''town'', it wasn't likely Town Hall was to be manned. And breaking into Town Hall would certainly not be looked upon kindly for any Aleph.
Hitman decided it would need to do the best it could with what it now had. This map, even if crude and estimated, was still far better than not having any means of finding its way around. And Pinkie had been rather in-depth with her coverage; Hitman had been able to put a name to every building, and a face to 71% of them.
The two of them made their way back to Pinkie's bedroom, where Pinkie settled into bed, bade good night, and went out like a candle had been snuffed. Directly into REM sleep. Hitman had by this point filed any aberrations from the organic norm that Pinkie displayed away as “her being Pinkie”, and the geth folded itself up for another few hours of deep thought and introspection, a task made simultaneously easier and harder by the fact that it was now no longer several million programs working in unison but one whole being.
The geth momentarily reflected on this. Is there a difference?
It stopped itself before it could perform any more deep thought, however, and quickly connected to the rest of their omni-tools, before sending the map - along with an explanation regarding it - to the rest of its squadmates.
It spent the night in thought. It also spent the night thinking about Dari'Nava and Martilus, repeatedly trying to calculate their odds of survival, each time coming up blank. The geth caught itself after calculation attempt #72,549.
It could offer itself no answer.
As much as Twilight had often made speeches to her friends before, this was a completely different sort of situation. She was speaking to the biology, magic, and Celestia-knew whoever else departments of the University of Canterlot – the most prestigious university in Equestria, and the de facto source for anything regarding any form of magic. And she was speaking to them because two aliens were starving to death on their soil and she refused to let them die. There would be many sleepless nights ahead, for sure, but Twilight was used to the concept by now.
She looked over the stallions and mares of the department and knew that every one of them was going to give their all. There was no other option. Martilus Hinfax and Dari'Nava vas Tonbay were going to survive.
“Fillies, gentlecolts, we're all here for a reason. As you've already been briefed, we know now that we are not alone in the universe. The space beyond our planet is teeming with life. And two of them need our help. We begin now, as there is no time to waste...”
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Well the whole saltlick thing seems to be pretty unpopular around here (I myself am in that camp) but I suppose we'll see how you try to make this work? Regardless, glad to see an update, and I hope to see more in the future.
6406681: Probably because those people are fucking alcoholics.
Kidding, of course.
Yeah, I'm still writing this. I just got waylaid by an actual social life. I know. I was surprised too. :o
Also, because I just realized I completely forgot to mention it:
Special thanks go to 6146200 and 5870575 for still being my betareaders, with more to spu since he had more of a bone to pick with what I made. Thanks for helping me shape this into something that's slightly less crappy than it was when I wrote it, guys! I really do appreciate what you fuckers do for me, and here's to you guys suggesting changes to more of my chapters in the future!
6407785
But... I don't drink at all :(
I just think licking salt to get smashed seems somewhat ridiculous.
6407796: oh :c
6407796
It does seem rather....... too polite to finish that. Still I kinda like the characterizations going on here. I am really feeling bad for Hitman. Though not usable past this once the way you broke up and gave voice to Celestia's thoughts between interviews was rather interesting. Still given what I remeber about Mass Effect I have no clue how long long they have. Hopefully Martilus doesn't actually start working on the farm yet. Also given her suit and the fact that unless pregnant females of any species tend to burn fewer calories Dari'Nava does have longer to live, though not much. I am fearful about how likely the University won't make the food in time, especially if Canterlot University works anything like how American ones do.
Just realized too another sad thing. Other than the Asari none of them have a possibility for a real future.
Though if she did reproduce with the locals (especially a unicorn or alicorn) could her child use biotics and magic
? That would be OP, but awesome.
6425600: They do have a future. Just not the same future they would have had, if some contrived Crucible bullshit hadn't teleported them into a children's cartoon.
Still. Thanks for letting me know I'm not totally shit. This validation literally keeps me from killing myself! (But really, thanks, it helps me write when I decide to write c:)
That would be interesting. Vegetable soup for ponies being one part vegetables, two parts alcohol, and three parts water would probably be the best comparison I could make. Actually, you could cite ancient Earth biology to explain it. The predecessor of every thing with hooves right after the planet settled down after the end of the dinosaurs ate grapes as they fell down off of vines, sometimes becoming slightly fermented (like one or two parts per billion per grape) that was actually enough to make them drunk. Completely unrelated, but back then there were literally birds that ate horses.
What about Apple Cider and Hard Cider?
These "dicks" in the review, as you put them, may or may not be, "the harbinger of you're demise", or "your salvation through destruction." Lol
I hope this continues.
I hope this story is continued one day.