• Published 1st Apr 2017
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Message in a Bottle - Starscribe



Humanity's space exploration ultimately took the form of billions of identical probes, capable of building anything (including astronauts themselves) upon arrival at their destinations. One lands in Equestria. Things go downhill from there.

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G5.05: Security Override

It was not a pleasant trip. Getting out of the Crystal Empire wasn’t terribly difficult—there were no papers to be stamped, or checkpoints to pass through. Flurry Heart just had to wear thick enough clothing to conceal her identity (which she would have had to do anyway, thanks to the cold waiting for them), and they just walked out. Lucky wasn’t terribly worried about what school would think—now that she had her cutie mark, she wasn’t even required to attend.

No, the real difficulty came once they were out of civilization. They flew, forbidding Lucky from bringing all but her helmet, but even that was enough for effortless navigation. She had already brought it once, so getting it to lead her back was a trivial matter. She found herself very grateful for Lightning Dust’s training.

Flurry Heart might be a princess, but that didn’t mean she was a strong flyer. Her abilities were roughly where Lucky’s had been before Dust’s boot-camp. She could make the trip, but not without frequent stops and landing. They were fortunate they didn’t run into any storms, because if they had, Lucky doubted that her companion would’ve been able to fly over them and ride them out, or outrace them from another direction.

Even with clear weather, it was already dark by the time they arrived at the place the helmet said was their destination. Flurry Heart didn’t land so much as plummet out of the air, landing in a stumble and vanishing into a snowdrift.

“Princess, are you alright?” Lucky touched down beside her, conscious all the while of just how thin the ice could be. She didn’t like her odds of catching the princess. Great diplomacy that would be. Yeah, I accidentally got your princess killed, but no hard feelings, right?

Flurry Heart emerged from the snow, her face dusted like a wintery bird emerging from its nest. “Y-yeah,” she said, her voice weak, barely awake. “I’m, a… I’m still… I’m here.”

“Good,” she said. “I’m sorry that was so hard, but we’re not quite done yet. We still have to glide down a ways. Are you strong enough for that? Otherwise we’ll have to sleep up here, in the snow…”

“Y-yeah.” The princess rose to her full height, shaking off the snow. She had saddlebags just like Lucky, though hers were much nicer, dusted with gems, and lacked any wear and tear at all. Lucky doubted they’d ever even been brought outside the Crystal Empire before today. “I can glide. But glide where? We’re already on the ground.”

Lucky grinned at her. “Don’t follow me for a second, just watch. ” She lifted into the air, finding it was easy for her despite her day of flying. Considering all the rests and how slow they’d gone, she had far more energy left than last time. Lucky unhooked the helmet from where she’d kept it on her saddlebags and settled it on her head. “Headlights.” They came on, and she quickly looked away from the princess, pointing them instead at the icy field. There was no sign of the opening she and Lightning Dust had made last time they were here. It looked like an identical, unbroken sheet. Thin enough that it might be broken through, if she wasn’t careful. “Scan the ice. I want an overlay of thickness,” she instructed.

The helmet’s sensors activated, Lucky neither knew nor cared which ones. Probably sonar, though she couldn’t tell for sure. After a second, the ice began to glow different colors. The key on the corner of her screen indicated the darkest patches corresponded to the thickest ice. So, she hovered over to a patch that was bright orange, and flew straight at it with all the force she had. She ended her dive in a kick. The whole thing rumbled, a deep moan that echoed through the land all around, and a huge chunk came ripping free. Several others broke off in a cascade as well, getting dangerously close to where the princess had landed.

She didn’t take to the air, so it was fortunate the collapse stopped before it reached her. Lucky touched down on the ice beside her, as though making such a dramatic entrance had been her intention all along. I need to be more careful. This body is stronger than it feels. That had been part of her training, back on Earth. Knowing the abilities of an enhanced body, so she didn’t accidentally break anything or harm anyone. But she’d been trained for a human body, not a tiny pony. Every time she thought she knew what pony bodies could do, they always surprised her and did a little more.

In the dark, the opening was even more ominous. Her headlamps weren’t bright enough to illuminate the bottom, or even anything more than the closest sidewall. The metal track glittered in the light, and a slightly warm breeze wafted gently up towards them.

“Woah.” Flurry Heart made her way to the edge of the opening. “That’s what you meant by gliding.”

“Yeah,” Lucky said, grinning back at her. “It’s empty all the way down. So long as you don’t bump into the walls, you don’t have to worry about hitting anything. It’s quite safe. Flying back out is harder, but we don’t have to worry about that until tomorrow.”

Lucky took to the air again, spinning around to face Flurry Heart. As she had hoped, that was enough to encourage the princess to take off again, following her with difficulty. At least until they made it into the large opening. Lucky kept her helmet on, illuminating the space below them so Flurry Heart wouldn’t accidentally hit anything.

The Alicorn might be a weaker flyer, but even she seemed alright with gliding. The space open to them was enormous, so it wasn’t like they had to turn too sharply to avoid hitting anything. It was rather like walking down a hill at a modest pace—not easy exactly, but not difficult either.

“I’ve never been this far without retainers,” Flurry Heart said, mostly to herself. “If Mom knew how far from the castle I was…” She trailed off, giggling.

“Wait.” Lucky winced, staring at the princess as she descended past her. “You did tell them something, right? You didn’t just…”

“Uh…” Flurry Heart looked away, her expression scrunching up uncomfortably. “I might’ve kinda, sorta…”

A missing princess was exactly the sort of thing that could get someone locked up for life. Lucky probably would’ve made sure the Alicorn had done things correctly, except that she herself had been so eager to get going. She had exactly two days to get back without getting caught.

“We’ll have to… figure out how to deal with that,” she eventually said. “Just not right now. We’re already out here, and I don’t think we have the strength to fly you back. We might as well do our exploring, right?”

“Right,” Flurry Heart answered, sounding almost relieved that Lucky wasn’t trying to call everything off. Of course, the Alicorn could just order her to do whatever she wanted. She was still a princess—and what she decided to say when they got back might very well determine the rest of Lucky’s life.

She has to be my friend when we get back. There’s got to be a way. Even if Lucky succeeded in every way, she’d probably have to leave the Crystal Empire. Doing something like this would make her interesting to all the wrong ponies. I hope you aren’t too excited about that secret job you have, Mom. Cuz’ we’re probably moving again.

Lucky banished that thought as they neared the ground. “Look out, Princess! Time to slow!” There was no snow down here, nothing but the metal ground and a few small patches of dirt. Nothing to cushion the fall of an unobservant pegasus (or Alicorn).

But the princess wasn’t helpless, even if she wasn’t as graceful as Lucky. They landed, with a series of resounding metallic thumps.

Flurry Heart stopped, stretching her wings and looking up. “These ruins are… as impressive as you said. I can see how nopony would’ve discovered them. Coming all the way out here, covered with ice. You must be as lucky as your name.”

“Yeah.” She grinned back. “Guess so.” She wasn’t about to mention that Twilight Sparkle had been the one to send her here. Not when the clandestine nature seemed to be one of the primary appeals of this mission with the young princess. That another of her class was involved might take all the excitement away for her.

“The real question now is: do you have the energy left to do a little exploring?”

Flurry Heart matched her grin, any trace of tiredness gone from her. “Obviously if one of my young subjects does, I do. Though… I’ll admit, that helmet makes you look strange.”

“Oh.” She slipped it off, though she left the headlamps on, illuminating the space all around them. They had more than enough energy to last through a week of constant use before recharging. “Sorry, Princess. I just get used to wearing it, sometimes. It shows me things that make exploring easier.”

“Really?” Flurry Heart stared at it, renewed interest on her face. “May I try?” She didn’t wait, and the helmet began levitating over towards her.

It didn’t go far before catching on the tether, and dragging Lucky along too. “It won’t fit you, Princess! It doesn’t have a spot for your horn!”

“Oh.” Flurry Heart sighed. “Well you’re the expert, Lucky Break. Let me know if there’s something I can do.”

The sealed door wasn’t far—at least it didn’t feel far after such a long flight. They walked through an open passageway, all the way down the end of the long shaft that ended with the pony image.

“You’re sure it’s safe to open?” Heart asked, when they were about twenty meters away. “In the Daring Do books, places like this are always full of traps, and angry natives, and dangerous animals.”

“Fairly certain, Princess,” she said, though in truth Lucky had no idea what was on the other side of the door. But she sounded confident enough. “If the ones who built this place wanted to kill intruders, we would be dead already. They must have friendly intentions.”

“Oh, okay.” Flurry Heart advanced towards the door. Her wings extended, and Lucky couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not. Her horn began to glow, along with her heart-shaped cutie mark. For a few moments, it seemed as though she were lifted into the air, hovering just in front of the door.

There was a bright flash, and Lucky was suddenly blind. She looked away, trying to adjust, and slowly the world came back into view.

The thick door was completely gone, as though it had never been there. No markings remained in the hallway to suggest where it had gone—if it had retracted, it had merged so completely with the shaft as to be invisible.

“Are you okay?” Lucky galloped over to Flurry Heart’s side, who had slumped against the wall, covering her face with one wing.

“Y-yeah. I just… didn’t expect that to take so much magic.” Flurry Heart groaned, straightening. “There aren’t any more of those, are there? I think I’m done for the day.”

Lucky glanced away down the hall. She saw it end maybe fifty meters ahead, whatever was beyond difficult to see with as bright as it was. She smelled something new on the air, like old metal and mildew, though it was hard to tell for sure.

“Nope, no more,” she said, touching Heart’s shoulder with her wing in a reassuring way. The princess didn’t resist, or show any indignance at the gesture. “We’re in, you did it!”

“I did it,” Flurry Heart repeated, smiling warily. “But in where?”

“I dunno,” Lucky answered, honestly. “Let’s find out.”


Lucky slid her helmet back onto her head as she made her way into the “ruins” beside Flurry Heart. There was no telling what might be waiting for them—even if the idea of traps in a place like this was as absurd as she had suggested to the young Alicorn, that didn’t mean the installation was necessarily safe.

With the helmet on, her eyes didn’t have to adjust to the brilliant overhead lights, but she could see through the glare at once. They stepped out the open doorway into a spacious atrium of some kind, like she might’ve seen in a large mall back on Earth. There were several large planter-boxes, though they had only dead gray soil in them now.

At once, Lucky banished any thought that this place had been built by Equestrians. There was no mistaking the even light-panels on the ceiling for anything other than electrical, no mistaking the projected images taking up the center of the room. She couldn’t see a substrate to support the large hologram, yet even so she could make the image out clearly, slightly transparent and with a gentle flicker every few seconds. It was very subtle, almost as though it was only there so she could identify it as artificial. It was a map of the ring.

Three separate doorways led away from the hologram, each one with writing on the airlock-looking metal doors. But Lucky stopped in front of the hologram, watching it as it gently spun. The star was not represented here, and judging from the speed, it wasn’t trying to represent things at scale.

Flurry Heart stopped beside her, staring at the hologram with apparent fascination. “What is it?”

Lucky removed her helmet before answering. “I dunno. Our holograms usually used glass or water as a projection surface. I don’t know how this one works.”

“No.” Flurry Heart pointed, apparently ignoring her human words. “Why does this ring look familiar?”

“Familiar?” Lucky hesitated, remembering how confused Lightning Dust had been. She hadn’t known that Equestria was on a ring, and Lucky still didn’t know how she might react to learning that information. But then again, it was possible the ruling class knew more. “That’s because we’re living on it.”

Most of the ring’s surface was rocky and brown, broken with regular, identical-looking ocean. Like the whole thing was built out of the same pieces repeated over and over. A few sections stood out. One was bright green, a sparkling jewel of life that she could recognize well, even on such a scaled-down version. Equestria, with dark patches corresponding to cities and roads and mountains. There were other interesting parts along the ring as well, but Lucky didn’t get to keep looking at it.

Flurry Heart had said something, and Lucky hadn’t heard. She said it again, annoyed this time. “Equestria is flat,” she said, very loudly. “If it was round, we’d fall off!”

“Yeah?” Lucky pointed at the section that corresponded to Equestria with one wing. It was rotating slowly away from them, and she had to lift into the air, using a hoof instead as she followed it. “Look at this piece, right here.”

Flurry Heart’s horn glowed again, and to Lucky’s surprise the ring moved as though it were made of matter, rotating back around so that the part she was pointing at was at comfortable pony head level. The image zoomed in, the rest of the ring vanishing away out the apparent edges of the projector until the image of Equestria was nearly three meters along each side. This close, the curve of the ring was quite subtle, far more difficult to see compared to the sharp inclines of the mountains on either side.

Flurry Heart stared for a long time, her eyes moving over Equestria’s distinctive features. Lucky knew from her geography classes that the locations of cities and roads and rails on this map were up-to-date. It had greater fidelity than the satellite mapping services back on Earth. If she looked very closely, it almost seemed like she could see motion. Clouds drifting high above the ground for instance, and the cloud-cities built within them. I wonder if they have other satellites than the ones we found. How big would they have to be for us to notice? That was a question for the other team, not for a linguist.

There was writing on the image, which she hadn’t noticed until Flurry Heart zoomed in. It didn’t look like anything in Equestria, obviously—the symbols were completely unrecognizable. Flurry Heart squinted at them. “What do you think it says?”

Lucky shrugged, but she wasn’t the first to answer. There was a pleasant humming sound from nearby, and the ground abruptly lit up. White panels on the floor began to glow, leading away into one of the closed doors.

Flurry Heart looked away from the image, and it began to drift back into its previous configuration, returning to the full image of the rotating ring. “You think somepony lives here?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “Maybe someone, maybe automated systems. They seem to respond to you, though.” She looked up briefly at Flurry Heart’s horn. “You could just move the projection around?”

“Yeah.” She tilted her head to one side, confused. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“I… have no idea,” Lucky eventually said, before glancing back to the lit-up floor panels. She took one cautious hoof step along the path, and found that the panels got a little brighter when she walked on them. It can sense me too, then. It just doesn’t respond the same way.

“Well, Princess, should we go back out and get some rest? Maybe come back in tomorrow morning?” They didn’t have much in the way of sleeping gear—she didn’t look forward to the princess’s reaction to sleeping on cold, hard ground.

“No,” Heart said, though Lucky could still see a few signs of her exhaustion at the edge of her features. She might be tired, but like Lucky she seemed determined to see what else was in here. “This isn’t anything like a Daring Do adventure. It’s way cooler.” She hurried along behind Lucky, catching up after just a few hoof steps and soon keeping pace beside her.

They reached the door, and it slid open before they got too close, letting them through without resistance. Within was another long hallway, though the ground looked a little different. It didn’t glow anymore—the light had transferred to the wall, a gentle flashing arrow leading them deeper. A few hoof steps forward and the ground began to move—a slow acceleration at first, like an airport conveyer. But after a few seconds, they began to accelerate much faster, enough that Lucky worried about what might happen when they stopped.

The walls on one side of them were blank, identical sections of metal. In front of them was a different story. Past identical supports were occasional sections of window. The space beyond lit up with gigantic spotlights as they got close, as though for their inspection.

“What are those?” Flurry Heart asked, leaning closer to the window. Lucky pulled her back just a little, feeling the wind whipping about her feathers and jacket. This was exactly the sort of thing she’d thought about, when she worried about the unintentional dangers they might encounter here.

Through the glass, Lucky could see what looked like a hangar of spectacular size. It was bigger than the biggest gigafactories back on Earth—large enough to fit their largest spacecraft in its smaller sections. The designs she saw within might not have been familiar to her, but she recognized ships when she saw them. Many had aerodynamic curves and sloping wings, along with transparent sections that might be windows. Some others were constructed in seemingly random ways, with protrusions and extended sections that looked like acceleration in atmosphere might tear them apart. There appeared to be no organization system, other than whatever could get the vehicles packed in as closely as possible. Many were attached to walkways, easily large enough for trucks to drive full of supplies. Others just packed in close to one another on racks. Probes, maybe?

She realized Flurry Heart was staring at her, and she opened her mouth. “Uh, they’re… airships. Really, really fast airships.”

“Oh.” Flurry Heart looked forward again, staring through the glass. “I thought they were small at first, but… they aren’t small. They’re just far away.”

“Yeah,” Lucky answered. She felt their deceleration then—not from the placement of the windows, but from the gradual decrease in the pressure on her wings. Light still flashed on the wall behind them, indicating they were going in the correct direction. A few moments later, and they stopped at the other end of the hall, and all the spotlights went out.

Another door opened, into another large atrium. This one was several levels tall, with attractive glass balconies linked not by bridges, but gaps in the glass railing. There were no stairs, or elevators, or ladders, but there was plenty of space to fly between them. As they stepped inside, a large artificial waterfall began pouring from the wall, slowly filling up a fountain that made an artificial stream through sculpted glass banks.

The glowing trail they were following went straight up one wall, then sideways to the second level of railing. “Guess we have to fly again.”

Flurry Heart nodded, then took off, and this time there was no weakness as she flew herself to the nearest opening on the second floor. Lucky followed close behind her, beginning to feel a little tiredness herself. Maybe we can find the bedrooms whoever built this place left behind. I bet they have some comfortable beds. She wasn’t sure what Olivia would think of the recording she was making of this adventure. Probably she wouldn’t be pleased about a friendship with such an important native, but… that was the least of Lucky’s worries just now. If Lightning Dust doesn’t kill me over this, the Crystal Empire might.

Then another thought, still deeper. How much of this did Princess Twilight know about? Did she just know about the entrance, or… has she been here? There were no signs of other explorers anywhere—no equipment, no tents, no markings on the wall indicating what way they’d come. But then, there wasn’t a great deal of other things Lucky might’ve expected from a facility so empty. There was no dust, no sign of broken equipment, nothing. The numerous planter-boxes were all empty, the water ran clear—whoever had built this place had obviously designed it to last.

There was about twenty more minutes of winding through hallways, walking around with ceilings uncomfortably high over their heads, through more advanced architecture with the occasional airlock door. One thing she didn’t see was any sign of the systems that maintained this place—no drones floated around, no security bots. Apart from the systems they activated as they made their way around, their hoof steps were the only sound.

Eventually, they reached their destination. The trail ended in another door, and when it opened there was no more room to walk inside. Unfortunately, there didn’t appear to be much of anything inside.

It was a round room maybe twenty meters across, with a slightly raised platform in the center. The ceiling was unusually high here, but that was all. There were no strange devices, just a slight cut in the floor around the raised platform. That was also where the trail ended.

“Aww.” Flurry Heart glared into the room, ears flattening. “We came all this way for an empty room?”


James supposed taking the prisoner who had attacked her only minutes before out to tour the station wasn’t a good idea.

But after all the reading she’d done—all the reports she’d read sent in by her distant clone, it seemed like exactly the pony thing to do. What better way to show their side wasn’t as bad as their first actions had seemed, than to prove it with a little forgiveness of her own?

Deadlight did not attempt to flee again. He stopped in the hallway more than once, asking her to explain anything remotely interesting.

“That is a power outlet,” she might say. “It can power things if we want to put something here,” or “That’s a fire extinguisher. We keep them in every corridor in case there’s an accident.” She could not explain how a fire extinguisher could be used, given it had no grips for their hooves and none of them were “unicorns.”

Eventually she ran into Martin, who was just returning to her own “lab” with a large tray of food. Martin was the only member of the crew James had trusted with information of her plans, the only one who seemed amicable to the idea of developing a closer relationship with their guest.

“I have enough for three,” she said, the tray balanced in a similar set of gyroscoping claws to those James herself was wearing. “Come on in.”

They did. The large space was closer to a classroom than a lab, but physics and astronomy often took little beyond lots of computer resources, so there was no reason to keep expensive machines in here that wouldn’t be used.

“How many twins are there?” Deadlight asked, once she had introduced Martin by name, and they were sitting around a low table in a corner of the room. As in her clone’s reports, this table had cushions instead of chairs, so ponies could sit on their haunches and rest at a comfortable level for eating. “Martin, Melody… I remember more.”

“There are four of us,” Martin said. “Who’s Melody?” Martin couldn’t pronounce the Equestrian word that well, even if the software had recognized it for a proper noun, and not translated it.

There was still a delay—the translation headset always slowed things down a little. Even so, it appeared the quality had markedly improved. Could it really have learned that much with just a few hours of samples? That kind of improvement made James even more self-conscious than she already was. What was the point of having a linguist if the computer could do her job?

“That’s what he calls me,” she supplied. “It’s easier for him to pronounce.”

Deadlight, meanwhile, seemed hardly interested in his food. It wasn’t as though eating out of his cell would mean better rations—they all ate the same chemically-fabricated nutrient bars until hydroponics could grow its first crop. So far as James knew, that section wasn’t finished yet. Quality of life sections were not Olivia’s construction priority. “Your magic is very interesting,” he said, pointing at the wall. On it, an enlarged image of the system was running in computer simulation.

It showed the star in the center, with the ring uncomfortably close to its surface. The two satellites orbited around that. The Forerunner’s own satellites were visible as well, faint specks by comparison. Only their labels made them visible on the scaled image at all.

“I have heard about moving picture shows in Canterlot—I didn’t know they looked so good.”

Martin laughed. “Moving picture? I guess.” Her eyes widened, apparently sensing an opportunity. “Do you recognize what it’s a picture of, Dead-Light?” Again, she had difficulty with the proper noun.

Deadlight chuckled, apparently amused at her pronunciation. “Astronomy, right?” He ruffled his batlike wings. “I’ve seen more of Luna’s night than you have, dayflyer. Maybe not in such exaggerated proportions, but…”

“Not this time,” James interrupted, stopping what she could tell was coming from Martin. “I’m trying to keep existential dread off the agenda for today.” Let’s see the Forerunner translate that.

She could tell from Deadlight’s confused expression that it hadn’t done a very good job.

Martin opened her mouth to protest, tapped one hoof impatiently, then sighed. “We’ll have to talk about it eventually. We shouldn’t waste a source of useful information. He might be able to answer some questions I’ve been puzzling over.”

Deadlight looked up, his plate almost empty now. If James had learned nothing from taking care of this stallion, it was that he could eat about twice as much as she could. His weight probably accounted for some of that, but not all. “Questions? I love answering questions.” He folded his forelegs in front of him on the table. “Maybe we could trade? Melody doesn’t answer enough of mine.”

“You won’t get better answers from her,” James warned, but she didn’t try to stop him. No point, really.

“Sure.” Martin hadn’t even touched her food. “But I get to go first.” She didn’t wait for his agreement. “How far north has your civilization explored?”

Deadlight had to take a moment to answer that. “We went as far as the Pegasus Expansion Delimiter. Not as far as Nibiru itself, though there are stories of Celestia going there, from a long time ago. There wouldn’t be much to see—most of the interesting things are made by ponies. Since civilization could never build that far, there wouldn’t be anything to discover.”

Martin sat up in her chair, practically bouncing with her next question, but Deadlight didn’t give her the chance. “Why did you ponies leave Equestria? Why not build your city where it was safer?”

“Because…” Martin began. “Because it wouldn’t be safer for us in Equestria. We don’t want to be bothered.”

Deadlight laughed, rising from his seat, and stretching his wings. “Nopony gets to decide not to be bothered, only what bothers them. At least in Equestria it’s only ponies who visit. Out here, you don’t have the treaties protecting you. Maybe it’ll be dragons, maybe minotaurs, maybe griffons… but eventually, someone will notice.”

“We’re underground,” James said. “I think we’ll be safe. We have magic protecting us.” Magic was another word she’d learned to appreciate more by reading her own reports. The natives seemed to use it the same way people on her own world used the word “science.” Many ponies (apparently including this one) just used it like “powerful force we don’t completely understand.”

“Oh. Guess that explains why you don’t have windows.”

Martin glared at both. “I’m not done, Dr. Irwin.” She straightened. “How much do you know about the ring?” she asked, pointing at the large projection on the far wall with her wing. “That ring, I mean.”

Deadlight stared at it for a good several seconds, then shrugged. “Absolutely nothing. I’ve never seen that star before, not even in ancient drawings. And I’ve seen lots of ancient stuff—more than most ponies. Most don’t even want to leave the cities, even though Equestria is perfectly safe.” He took a breath, looking away. “Are you all changelings? Is that why you look like the same pony, because she’s the only one you’ve learned to copy?”

It was their turn to act confused. Both of them shook their heads. Martin with simple bafflement, James with a little more context. Changelings were something her clone had written about, though only briefly. They were a race of shapeshifters that had tried to invade Equestria at least twice. Her clone didn’t think they were still a serious threat, though she hadn’t written why.

“No,” James said, before Martin could answer. “You’re right to think we aren’t what we seem. But we aren’t changelings. We aren’t invaders, either.”

“Unless you mean in a ‘War of the Worlds’ sorta way,” Martin added. “That’s what Olivia seems to want.”

“You aren’t being very helpful,” James grunted, glaring at her. Imperfect translation of a proper noun like that was not very likely to produce mutual understanding between them.

Indeed, Deadlight had taken a step back, retreating from them, his wings spread as though he might be about to take off. A pointless gesture, since the classroom had a low ceiling, and the door would not open for him. But he looked determined all the same. “War,” he repeated. “You came for war?”

“No!” Martin exclaimed, horrified. “That isn’t quite what I…”

James cleared her throat loudly, rising too. “Martin was referencing a work of fiction, Deadlight. Please forgive her, she doesn’t fully realize the consequences of her actions. Apparently, she hasn’t done much diplomacy before.”

Deadlight didn’t come back, but at least he didn’t take off and try to flee. “Then who are you, really? I know you aren’t from Equestria—ponies would never foalnap me like this. But if you were changelings, you would’ve tried to harvest me by now. You aren’t slavers, or why give me such good treatment and pretend like you’re nice?” He sat down, frustrated. “I just can’t figure out what faction you are. The way you talk, like Equestria was so strange and far away…”

“Because it is,” James said. “To us. We’re from really, really far. Further than any pony has ever been.”

“Before,” he corrected. “Somepony must have, since you’re here.”

“Right.” She didn’t clarify. “Besides us. We’re from so far away, that… we don’t expect you to even know where we came from. So far away that the places and things we know have never made it here. But we want to know about you—to get to know Equestria and the ponies living here. We want to be your friends.”

“I knew it!” he exclaimed, the fear gradually replaced by excitement. “You’re from the west, aren’t you? Thousands of miles west, probably. Further?” He rushed back over to the table, reaching behind him with his mouth. But there was nothing there—he wasn’t wearing his saddlebags anymore. “Melody, can I have my things back? I have maps of the Minotaur Dominance, I’d love to know where your home fits.” He gestured all around them with his wings. “It doesn’t surprise me you’d have to be more advanced, or less friendly. You must be invaded all the time. Maybe… maybe you hide? That would explain building underground. That’s how the diamond dogs do it.”

The door whirred as it opened. James winced as she imagined the worst possible case—and wasn’t the least bit disappointed. Major Fischer was standing in the open doorway, flanked by a security drone. She wore a thin armored suit, suggesting she’d been out in her Hephaestus. At least she hadn’t drawn her gun.

“Would someone like to explain to me what the prisoner is doing outside his cell?”

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