The Distant Princess

by GMBlackjack

XIII - Crashdown

Space is filled with life. Far more life than anyone knows what to do with. Point a telescope up at a random star and chances are there’s something around it, jumping around in a magic bubble of some sort.

Those bubbles are so ridiculous…

It’s hard to believe that only a few thousand years ago, life was rare in the wider universe. Funny how that works. Now nobody’s surprised that aliens are a thing. Just think of Mars! Our next-door neighbor, covered in aliens. The place isn’t exactly a secret. It wouldn’t be that unreasonable to think of it as another nation of Ooo.

~~~

Twilight and Bonnibel left the cabin, telescope in tow. Once they’d passed the pumpkin patch, Bonnibel opened up the tripod and set it down on a flat patch of grass, the spikes in the legs digging into the soft earth. After turning a few screws to level the telescope out, she looked through the eyepiece. “All right, Jupiter…” She swiveled to the side, pointing the instrument at the distant horizon. “Hold on, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly… aha!” She flicked a switch, locking the telescope into place. “Behold!”

Twilight had to stand on her hind hooves to get to the eyepiece. Using her wings for stability, she looked through. There, up against the blue sky, was a dull white circle. Looking closely, she could make out faint stripes. “Wow, that’s a pretty good picture for a backyard telescope!”

“I’ve got more tricks…” Bonnibel twisted a knob, lowering the zoom until Jupiter was little more than a dot on the lens. Moving to the front end of the telescope, she placed a special lens in front. Jupiter was gone—in its place was a fuzzy double-lobed shape that was bright in the center, fading off toward the edges.

Twilight gasped. “Jupiter’s magnetic field…? You have a radio lens? What? How?”

“It’s a liar,” Bonnibel said, smirking. Removing the lens, she brought it closer to Twilight’s gaze. “It’s not actually a lens, it’s a digital filter. Bought it off a cosmology-prone wizard a while back. It’s a surprisingly reliable tool, despite its… enchanted nature.”

Twilight frowned. “You’ve had trouble with magic, huh?”

“Trying to rigorously prove anything about the arcane has been a chore. The math works out but sometimes stuff just goes badongles anyway.”

“You should come to the Colleges of Magic, the professors will feel your pain.”

“I… have often wanted to visit those places. I’m not a wizard, though.”

“Really?” Twilight cocked her head. “You’ve got so much magic in you it’s setting off my ambient sensory spells.”

Bonnibel shook her head. “I’m a sentient wad of bubblegum that’s lived a long time—”

“No, it’s not that kind of magic. It’s deeper than that, and…” Twilight pursed her lips. “I’m not sure what it is, but you’ve got a lot in there. If we could figure out what sort of magic focal point would work for you…” Twilight scratched her chin.

“Even so, I’d rather not make use of something I can’t control. It’s not possible to really trust magic to behave itself.”

Twilight shrugged. “That’s understandable. Celestia knows I’ve charred my hide more than a few times teleporting.” She giggled at the memory. “Maybe if we didn’t use madness as a locus…”

“I wonder what Wizard City would think of you.”

“They’d either herald me as the hero or some kind of demon,” Twilight said without missing a beat. “At least, that’s what the history books would suggest.”

Bonnibel nodded. “Good guess.” She checked the front of the telescope, examining some other lenses. “I have an X-Ray filter, a tunneler, a solar filter...”

Twilight gasped. “A solar filter?”

“I take it you want to look at the sun?”

“Yes!”

Chuckling, Bonnibel placed the filter on the main lens. After another round of adjusting the telescope, they had it pointed directly at the sun. Looking through the eyepiece, they could see the orb of fire without burning their eyes out. Flames danced around the edge of the corona while black sunspots roiled in the center of the orb.

“Celestia’s charge really is beautiful…”

“Strictly speaking, it isn’t hers,” Bonnibel said.

“W-what?” Twilight gawked at her. “You… you’re a Celestia denier?”

Bonnibel smirked. “I do not believe she moves the sun.”

“B-but I’ve seen her do it! I had her magic for a while, I did it myself once! I—”

Bonnibel started laughing. “Well, that explains the problems we had a while back…”

“Hey!”

“I’m just saying she doesn't move the sun, that’d be ridiculous. She moves the Earth.” Bonnibel made a tutting noise. “I’m disappointed in you Twilight, not using specific language.”

“I… but…” She took a breath and let it out. “Right, fine, you’re right, she moves the Earth, but she’s associated more with the Sun so we say she raises the sun. But Luna moves the moon!”

Bonnibel twitched involuntarily. “Yes… She does… I haven’t the foggiest idea how she manages to do it but she does!”

“You don’t know? There was a recent study done by, uh, me, that the spells overcome the thaumic splines, triggering a framework built into the planetary field that acts automatically. There is a minimum recognition energy and the keystone arcana is unbelievably complex…”

“So the spell already existed before they started using it…” Bonnibel frowned. “Then who made those cosmological spells for them?”

“Uh… hmm. The original unicorn tribes?”

“Do you really think a primitive tribe of unicorns could develop a planet-wide spell to control the day and night cycle?” Bonnibel tapped the telescope. “We know the Earth rotated on its own in the past. Something had to have happened…”

“Unfortunately, we’re not historians,” Twilight sighed. “As much as I’d like to know, I’m not able to go to a ruin and find ancient inf—what is that!?”

Twilight pointed up with her wing. To the side of the sun, a speck of light had appeared. Quickly, Bonnibel swiveled the telescope to it and glanced through the eyepiece. “A meteor!”

“Whoa!” Twilight pushed Bonnibel out of the way, looking at the flaming dot in the sky through the telescope. “That’s a big one!”

Bonnibel pushed Twilight, examining it. “I don’t think it’s burning up…”

Twilight levitated Bonnibel out of the way. “There’s some kind of shape I can’t make out…”

Bonnibel grabbed Twilight by the tail and jumped over her, looking through once again. “I think it’s going to hit!”

Twilight swapped their positions with a teleport. “It’s… augh, it’s moving too fast!” She left the eyepiece, following the spark of fire through the sky with her eyes and magic. “It’s going to crash all right. North!”

“...That’s big,” Bonnibel observed, leaving the telescope she had just won to watch the fireball cascade through the sky. It was impossible to make out any features in the flaming hunk, but it couldn’t have been simple rock—it wasn’t burning up. The fiery object sailed through the sky, leaving a streak of smoke as it approached the world. It didn’t color the world as the Comet had, but it was hard to ignore the rumbling sound it made as it zipped through the atmosphere.

They saw it hit. The rumbling continued for a solid second before they felt the impact. The ground trembled beneath them, toppling the telescope and dropping Bonnibel to her knees. Birds let out squawks of panic, taking to the skies en masse as the ground shook.

Then all was silent. Smoke began to rise in the distance.

Bonnibel and Twilight took one look at each other and nodded.

“Peps!” Bonnibel called. “We’re going to check out the thing that fell from space!”

Peppermint poked his head out of the cabin. “Of course you are. I’ll prepare the packs…”

Bonnibel ran in, grabbing several notebooks and her shotgun, slinging it over her back. She changed into her rugged hiking boots and put on thick gloves. Twilight helped Peppermint pack the bags with food, supplies, and some of Bonnibel’s equipment. None of the packs were designed for an equine form, so Twilight had to tear up one of Bonnibel’s pairs of pants to sew the pack a proper equine strap. Bonnibel didn’t mind; she just wanted to get going.

Twilight and Bonnibel stood on the porch, ready for anything.

“We should investigate in a calm and orderly fashion,” Twilight suggested.

“We should,” Bonnie admitted with a nod.

Both of them looked at each other and grinned. They ran off to the north at full speed, throwing all caution to the wind. Over the river and through the woods, a smoking crater waited...

Comments

[Mal Masque]

He's coming.

[FanOfMostEverything]

“They’d either herald me as the hero or some kind of demon,” Twilight said without missing a beat.

Possibly both.

Interesting. Celestia and Luna just turn the cranks of prebuilt arcane machinery. But as Bonnibel notes, that leaves the question of who built the framework in the first place...

Eh, ancient cosmic mysteries later. Meteorite investigations now!

10355534
Had to double-check and see if Homestuck has on the crossover list because of your comment. Thankfully, he is not already here.

[Draco Dei]

Peppermint poked his head out of the cabin. “Of course you are. I’ll prepare the packs…”

Did he say this with resignation to her risk taking* or professionalism regarding his ability to anticipate her needs? The ellipsis would.suggest the former, but a bit more clarity might (or might not) be worth-while.
*Or not wanting to actually work... I think she mentioned that he is good at his job but only when he actually DOES it? Something like that?