Our Equestria

by Nonagon

The Story According To Shining Armour

Sweetie Belle had only seen the Elements of Harmony once before. Even from a distance, the sight and sound of them had seared into her mind. The rainbow of light had brought a shine into her mind that she had thought Chaos had stripped away, its brightness filling her world, the aura of the sheer brilliance of friendship righting every wrong in all the world. On that day, she had sworn to herself that she would learn to be a better pony, and that she would use what she had learned to strengthen the bonds of love between her and all the ponies that she cared for. The day when Harmony returned at last was the most powerful feeling she had felt in her life.

And it was nothing, nothing compared to when that beam of light was now directed at her.

Beams of light filled her vision, one by one, until a spark of every colour in the rainbow and more united them in an explosion across her soul. Love wove into every crevice within her, filling her with song, with joy, with the beauty of a connection far, far bigger than herself. It seemed impossible that her mind could hold so much, until she realized that she wasn’t just her own mind any more, but six others. She felt herself being lifted off the ground as they held her, embraced her, becoming her and letting her become them. She wanted to cry for joy. She wanted to hug every single person in the world and tell them that they didn’t have to fight any more. She had found perfection, and she wanted to share it, but she understood then and there that the perfection had been inside herself all along.

The magic faded, but it didn’t really fade. The Elements of Harmony didn’t really do anything. The bonds of truth and light were inside of all ponies, acting as the strings of fate binding each and every one of them together; all anyone ever needed was a little reminder of who they were really meant to be. She gently dropped to the library floor, her little hooves finding their purchase with ease, and breathed a sweetness that had always been around her. For a few seconds, all was right in the world.

“What?” Twilight Sparkle cried.

Sweetie opened her eyes. The world faded back into view, depositing her back into the middle of Twilight Sparkle’s bedroom. The bearers of the Elements of Harmony surrounded her, Princess Celestia and her two helpers overseeing. The smiles from seconds ago had vanished. Dread dropped like an anvil. With a heavy heart, she looked back at her own flank.

Even after all that had happened, she still bore the moss-green outline of a spiralling, wickedly sharp three-pronged claw.

“I told you,” Cicada said, drifting overhead. “Those cheap tricks aren’t going to work here. You’re in way over your heads, and it’s time you accept that.”

Twilight glowered at him. However, it was Rainbow Dash who spoke up first. “What are you calling cheap tricks?” she yelled, leaping into the air. “The Elements of Harmony are the most-”

“Most powerful force in the world, defeated Discord, undo any evil magic, yadda, yadda, yadda,” Cicada groaned. “Spare me the lecture. Your sparkly doodads are nice, and I’m sure they’ve got a whole boatload of uses that you’re just itching to tell me about. It just doesn’t apply here. Whether she knew what she was getting into or not, our little pony here signed a contract with me of her own free will. No amount of friendship is ever going to change that.”

Rarity whimpered. “Oh, Sweetie Belle,” she whinnied, rushing forward to embrace her sister again, this time physically.

Sweetie barely reacted. “I think I want to be alone now,” she said, looking at the floor.

“I’ll take you home,” Pinkie Pie offered quickly. She’d been strangely quiet all day, suffering from powerful twitches that rustled all the way down the length of her spine. With a look towards Rarity that was presumably meant to be nuanced but was, in reality, entirely unreadable, she scooped Sweetie Belle up and hopped, skipped and jumped out the door and down the stairs.

Princess Celestia sighed deeply. To her right, Shining Armour glared up at the circling mouse; to her left, Red Cross rapidly scribbled notes. “Is there anything that may be done?” she asked.

“No.” Cicada answered quickly and sharply. “There are rules that must be followed. They can not be broken, not by me, not by anyone. Otherwise, the game is pointless.”

“You’re still callin’ this a game?” Applejack growled.

“Applejack, please.” Twilight Sparkle calmed herself. “Please, Cicada. There must be something we can do. Isn’t there anything you can think of that might help?”

“Not my purpose, not my problem. Ask what you want, but same rules as before.”

Twilight clenched her teeth, holding back a retort. Her first meeting with the mouse had not gone well. Cicada’s one rule was that he would only answer questions that were strictly related to the fights themselves, which was the exactly one aspect of this situation that held no interest for her. Even simple queries such as “Where do you come from?” “How does the robot work?” and “Why are you being so difficult?” were met with dismissive non-answers and occasional bursts of sarcasm. Worse, she was almost certain that Celestia was hiding something from her. The Princess had been unusually tight-lipped about what she’d learned, especially after Rarity had arrived, and she seemed to be keeping a tight watch on the albino pony who was following her around.

She didn’t want to speculate about what this secret might be, but the wheels in her head seemed incapable of not turning, and the fact that they’d yet to speak with any pony who’d already piloted the machine was weighing heavily on her. She swallowed back thoughts of Spike and soldiered on.

“Um,” Fluttershy said, coming to her rescue. “I’m sorry, but... couldn’t we just not fight? Isn’t there a way we can convince the robots to not attack us?”

Applejack shook her head. “Knowin’ this bunch, they’ve probably set it up so that’s not allowed. Am Ah right?”

“On the nose,” Cicada answered. “Remember, the enemy isn’t just coming here to roughhouse with you. They’re here to eat you alive. Another robot’s presence slows it down, but even if your pilot doesn’t show up, you’ve got two days at most before it overloads and your whole planet goes boom.” It was hard to tell, but his painted face seemed to grow a tiny smirk. “Besides, you’ve seen the kind of damage they can cause without even trying. Would you really want to let one of these rampage around your world for two days unopposed?”

Fluttershy paled. “Then why are there fifteen rounds?” Shining Armour asked, having approached the issue with a slightly different mindset to her. “Why such an arbitrary number? If your masters want our energy so badly, why don’t they send two or three robots at a time to destroy us?”

“Who are you calling my masters?” Cicada snapped, warping up to him. “How dare you! Pollinia and I came here of our own free will, and if you don’t like it, I can leave the lot of you to fend for yourselves! How would you like that?”

Shining wrinkled his nose, then backed down. “I apologize,” he said. “I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“Darn right you didn’t.” The mouse floated back to the middle of the room. “As to the question, do you have any idea how much energy it takes to transport one of these robots across worlds? Don’t answer that. Even if you knew, the number wouldn’t mean anything to you. But if you did know, you’d know that there’s only so many times you’d want to do it until you declare a world a lost cause. And given how unstable they get when just two of them are near each other, you don’t even want to think about what would happen with three of them on the same planet.”

Shining seemed to accept this, although he gave Cicada a suspicious glare. Twilight coughed, drawing attention away from him. “There’s something else that I’ve been wondering about,” she said. “Do the battles necessarily have to be one-on-one? Since we’re all fighting for the future of our world, can other ponies help the pilot in their fight?”

“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere,” Cicada said, slowing down. “That’s a yes and a no. The contracted pilot is the only one who has power over the robot, but other creatures can interfere with the battle as much as they like. There aren’t any rules against it. And there aren’t any rules against it because there don’t need to be. You’ve already seen that your strongest weapons do absolutely nothing. What are you hoping to accomplish?”

“The what is insignificant,” Rarity growled, teary-eyed. “You cannot mean for us to simply sit idly by while my baby sister battles one of those monstrosities all by herself!”

“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen,” Cicada said with a slow flip. “She’ll have the other pilots with her. Besides, she’ll be piloting one of the most potent engines of destruction this universe has ever seen. Why is it so difficult for you to grasp that you’re dealing with a power you can’t possibly comprehend?”

Red Cross broke in quickly. “And what power is that, perchance?”

Cicada halted in midair and slowly swiveled towards him. Red Cross smiled pleasantly. “Just for clarification,” he said. “You go on and on about the immense powers behind the events that we’ve been witnessing, but we’ve yet to see any conclusive proof that you really are as powerful as you claim. Every system has its flaws, after all. Can you really expect a culture so predisposed to kindness to accept that they have no other options when you’ve left them so completely in the dark?”

The mouse didn’t move. Red Cross took a few steps forward. “Why not give us a few hours to study the robot, just to see what we can see?” he said. “Surely, if we are as powerless as you claim, there can be no harm in us seeing the evidence of that for ourselves. It would save you having to answer our rather inane questions, I’m sure.” This earned him a scowl from Twilight, but he continued. “How about it? Let us cower like insects before a monster whose true form we can’t grasp, and once we’ve had our fill, we’ll retreat in shame and let you carry on your machinations uninterrupted.” He bared his teeth cheerfully. “What do you say?”

There was no answer. Cicada hung in place, for once utterly motionless, just staring. Red Cross didn’t flinch. “Is there something on my face?” he said.

After a few seconds more, Cicada whirled away. “No,” he said stiffly, circling again. “There will be no investigation. You will not meddle in forces you were not meant to touch. No good will come of it.”

“Nothing?” Twilight Sparkle cried, flaring out her wings.

“There must be something we can do to help,” Shining Armour said quickly. He pondered rapidly for a moment. “How about a compromise?” he asked. “If we can’t study the robot, will you at least allow us to observe the battles from inside the cockpit?”

“Out of the question,” Cicada snapped. “Pilots only.”

“Really?” Shining pushed his luck. “You’ve already allowed Pina Colada to spectate.”

Cicada stopped again, though this time it was for only a second. “Fine,” he sighed. “If it will keep you satisfied. I’ll allow three... no, two additional spectators each round. Who goes up is up to you. But any funny business, and you’ll be back on the ground faster than you can say stop wasting my time. Got it?”

“Understood,” Shining Armour said. To the surprise of several, he bowed. “Thank you, Cicada.”

“You’re thanking him?” Rainbow Dash spat. “For what, being a jerk?”

“He’s right, Rainbow,” Twilight said, though it pained her. “Right now, he has all the cards. All we can do is make requests.” She sighed, and bowed shallowly as well. “Thank you, Cicada.”

A few others followed suit, but it was only when Princess Celestia bowed her head that this garnered any sort of reaction. “All right, that’s enough,” Cicada coughed, floating to the far corner. “You’re going to make me blush. Do you want to decide this now, or will you give me a call?”

“We’ll decide now,” Twilight said quickly. The group merged together, with no small amount of whispering, but it didn’t take long for them to break apart again. “We’ve decided,” Twilight announced. “The first spectator will be Shining Armour; as captain of the Guard, he’ll be able to tell the foals how to fight.” Shining nodded solemnly. “The other will be Red Cross, who can-”

Cicada moved so quickly that he almost appeared to teleport, stopping just inches in front of Red Cross’ face. “Not you,” he deadpanned.

Red Cross tilted his head a fraction of an inch to the side. “No?”

“No.” Cicada floated up and began to drift around again. “Pick another.”

Twilight unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth, looking around helplessly. “Oh. Well, um...”

“Why don’t we let Sweetie Belle decide?” Fluttershy offered. “It’s her fight, after all.”

“You’re right,” Twilight agreed, relieved. “We’ll ask her when we can.”

“Good. Are there any more inane questions?” There were not, at least within the seconds-long pause that Cicada left for them. “Then I’ll leave you be. I still have repairs to make. Don’t call me unless it’s important.”

Cicada vanished, taking the sterile atmosphere of the room with him. Several ponies visibly relaxed. “That little creep weirds me out,” Rainbow Dash muttered, finally settling back onto the ground.

“Watch yer’ mouth, Rainbow,” Applejack cautioned. “He might still be listening.”

This caused the rest of the room to still their tongues. At last, Celestia sighed. “It seems that for now, at least,” she concluded, “we must put our trust in Sweetie Belle. We will do for her what we can.”

“What will we tell the public?” Twilight asked, approaching her. “We can’t tell them that there are foals driving the dark unicorn. Everypony’s in shock already; we can’t let that turn to panic.”

“Especially after the battle with Cricket,” Shining Armour added solemnly. “A lot of ponies lost friends and family thanks to Diamond Tiara’s actions. If any mourners were to learn that these children were partly responsible for what happened...”

“It will not come to that,” Celestia assured them. “We will find a compromise between the truth and necessity. But that is a matter for another time.” She resettled her wings, starting a precise march towards the door. “Come, Twilight. We have preparations to make.”

“...Oh,” Twilight sighed, remembering. “I guess so. Come on, girls,” she said to her friends. “We need to get ready.”

The six mares formed a procession out the door, each lost in their own thoughts. Shining Armour and Red Cross held back. “Well?” Shining whispered once the others were out of earshot. “What do you think of him?”

Red Cross pulled a gem-studded cube from an inner pocket in his coat. None of the crystals had lit up. “Well, I can tell you what energy types he’s not using,” he said. “Certainly a fascinating specimen. The way he floats may be related to how the robots can hold themselves up despite their mass; he doesn’t seem to be acting against gravity in any way, but rather, simply ignoring it.” He paused. “But you were asking whether I trust him, weren’t you?”

“Do you?”

“That’s hardly relevant, is it?” He pocketed his device, then raised an eyebrow. “Do you trust him?”

“I thought I did. Now I’m not so sure.” Shining looked around, uselessly; he could already hear that his sister and her friends had left, but he wasn’t sure that what he was looking for could even be detected. “It seems like such a simple story,” he said. “From what we know, Cicada and his robot were built by a race of planet harvesters somewhere out in space. But one of them, Pollinia, took pity on us and stole one of their robots, reprogramming it to defend us instead of destroy us, and got stuck with the helper robot that came with it. She came here disguised as a pony before the first attacker arrived, chose the first willing group of defenders she could find, and gave her life demonstrating how to defend ourselves.”

Shining Armour trailed off. Red Cross raised an eyebrow. “But?” he prompted.

“But if that’s all there is to it, then why wouldn’t Cicada tell us this?” Shining said. “Even if he doesn’t like us, he has no reason not to get us on his side. And you were right when you asked him about his technology, too. If we really are as powerless as he says, then why won’t he let us see that for ourselves? What is he afraid of us finding out?”

“What are you proposing?”

“I think there is a way to break the children out of their contract. And for whatever reason, Cicada doesn’t want us to find it.” He looked around again, this time conspiratorially. “Just because Pollinia sent him here doesn’t mean he’s on our side. I wouldn’t put it past him to be deliberately sabotaging our fights just so he can get back home. I’m going to need you bring me all the information you can about him. And no matter what, he must not find out.”

“This was my plan as well,” Red Cross said. “I may have to make some minor alterations to your armour before you go up to the cockpit - in the middle of the night and without your knowledge, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Of course. Though I do wonder...” Red Cross started for the door as well, a thoughtful look coming to him. “You’re not a botanist, are you? No, I thought not,” he said when this produced only a dumbfounded look. He left slowly, descending the stairs. “Pollinia,” he mused to himself, almost silently. “What a beautiful name.”

Author's Note:

Why yes, the Month of Our Equestria 2 is going just fine, thanks. There definitely haven't been a series of minor disasters and setbacks all along the way so far. I also most certainly did not get distracted for several days creating some totally sweet custom prestige classes for the campaign I'm running. No sir/ma'am.
Also, bonus points to anyone who can tell me what Red Cross is talking about at the end there.

Comments

[Dawn Flower]

When I was reading this story, Red Cross reminds me of Mayuri from Bleach in every way.

[scytho]

A bit late jumping on this. Excellent chapter as always. Can't wait to see how this all pans out. You do like to kill off Sweetie Belle in your stories, don't you?

[Glass Reflection]

Who wants to start speculating about the one who isn't contracted? Or are you using that plotline?

[Nonagon]

4724216 I don't know. Am I?

[Glass Reflection]

4724342 Also, I noticed there was a bit of a similar outline for the first 2 battles fought by the children. The athletic one then the rich one. If this keeps going, I haven't noticed.

[Nonagon]

4724397 Yeah, I started on familiar ground just to get going. If it carries on after that, it's not intentional.

[Braininthejar]

4666162 heh, you thought of that too ?