Chapter 12: Salmon Dinner
Shiboline M’Ress moved through the party, trying not to step on a herbivore. She also wore a dress uniform, although hers was obviously different than those of the men. In accordance with ancient Earth tradition and Starfleet regulations, women were expected to wear skirts at all times, ideally as short as possible. There was some ability to choose whether that was the case with standard uniforms—per the Captain’s decision—but with dress uniforms there was no possibility of deviation. There was always a skirt, and it was always short.
This did not bother M’Ress. As a Caitian, trousers were foreign and alien concept for her, both for men and women. She was only glad that she was except with the explicit Starfleet regulation that women have their legs fully shaved at all times; removing her soft, silky fur would be an intolerable insult. That, and shaved Caitians were disturbingly wrinkly.
She was pleased that the ponies agreed with this sentiment. Although the mares favored dresses, the suits worn by the stallions never included trousers, leaving them bare below the waist. Which was disturbing in its own right, but not nearly disturbing as the fact that they lacked any external male equipment of any kind. From what McCoy had explained, though, they were a form of mobile fungus. M’Ress supposed they sporulated. Which was a thought too disturbing to even consider in the slightest.
The party, in itself, was not immediately uncomfortable for her. The ponies were kind, and greeted her when they saw her, generally with the mistaken belief that she was an Abyssinian, a superficially similar native race. From her impression, that race was generally considered alluring and attractive. As such, M’Ress wished she could meet them. Feline aliens were rare. While many races looked like humans, few looked like Caitians, apart from the Kzinti, and in her opinion they were jerks of the highest order.
What was a problem for her was the smell. The odor of ponies was overwhelming. It was not the same as the odor of horses, or of any other creature. They generally smelled strongly of various fruits, flowers, and spices. It did not seem to be a form of perfume or cologne, but rather some intrinsic effluvium. I was absolutely choking. M’Ress supposed it was a natural defense mechanism, a system designed to make them smell like vegetables to confuse the senses of whatever carnivore naturally preyed upon small colorful talking horses. M’Ress, herself a carnivore, was certainly quite confused and nauseated.
Their food was also horribly pungent. The Equestrians generally provided various fruits and vegetables, as well as baked goods, all things M’Ress could not eat—while the Lunar ponies appeared to specialize in the most odoriferous possible of moon-cheese. Cheese was a food she could normally tolerate. But not this cheese. This cheese was a bad cheese.
Somewhere, though, she could smell the tantalizing scent of shrimps--but could somehow not manage to find them.
A blue colored Pegasus in an Equestrian uniform nearly bumped into M’Ress’s legs. Something in an aluminum pan was perched between his wings. He looked up, a large and adorable smile on his face.
“Hey there, ma’am? Do you want some pie? The apple pony outside is selling them super-cheap! I’ve already eaten six!”
M’Ress looked at this abomination called “pie” and nearly coated the blue Pegasus with partially-digested pig tumor. It was disgusting in appearance and smell, to her, at least. Still, as a consummate professional diplomat and slightly arrogant cat-person, she held her composure.
“No thank you. My diet is unfortunately...restrictive. Do you have meat? Or seafood?”
“Well, we had shrimp...”
M’Ress’s ears involuntarily pricked. “Shrimps?”
“Well, yeah, but Rainbow Dash...kind of ate them all.” He sighed. “Losing a wing is...a really bad thing for a Pegasus. She’s trying to adjust but...” He shook his head. “It should have been me in that ship but...is it wrong I’m glad it wasn’t?”
M’Ress had no answer. She looked outward toward the buffet, to where the rainbow-haired pony was burying her head into moon-cheese and drinking from a veritable bucket of cider. Another pony, one in a Lunar version of the Space Force uniform—the one who had confronted them by transmission—was attempting to pull her away.
“Rainbow, come on, you can’t do this--”
“It should have been me in that prototype, and you know it!” shouted Rainbow Dash, slurring her words. “I was supposed to be there! ME!”
“It doesn’t work that way and you know it--”
“If I had a dang wing, I’d have been there! What am I, a trophy? Is that all I am, you—you HORSE. You STEED. You...” She hiccuped loudly. “Can you go to the apple pony and get more cider? I need more Celestia-danged cider...”
The command pony shook her head and led Rainbow Dash away from the moon-cheese. M’Ress watched on, silently, considering what it all might have meant.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Don’t feel bad. I don’t think you can.”
He walked off to eat his disgusting pie, and M’Ress continued to stare out at the room of ponies dressed in elegant clothing. Clothing that was certainly varied, but that held little meaning to her. Instead, she scanned the room for more shrimp that were not presently absorbing cider within Rainbow Dash.
Across the room, she saw the Captain with the Princess, laughing and grinning. The Princess was laughing back to him with a similar expression, or the equine equivalent thereof. M’Ress had seen that expression enough time and on enough human males to know exactly what it meant. She had never seen it on a medium-sized magical horse, though.
Two ponies who had just been speaking to the Princess approached near her, both looking gravely concerned. Both were unicorns, apparently twins, but one had a mustache. Which M’Ress supposed was common for horses. She would not normally have noticed them, except for the fact that they seemed greatly disturbed by something and were in more of a hurry than the rest of the partygoers. They ignored the fresh fruit as well as the pressed grasses and moon-cheese.
In fact, M’Ress would have ignored them completely had they not passed close to her. She immediately turned, sniffing the air. Something was wrong, and more than just their demeanor.
She waited for them to pass and took a flute of what she desperately hoped was water from a passing servant. She dipped her finger in it, checking the level, and then took a sip before following the pair of twins at a distance. In their distracted state, and considering her shoeless and cat-like silence, they did not notice her in the slightest.
The pair entered what appeared to be a washroom. M’Ress leaned against the outside wall, sipping her water. To the casual observer, she seemed to be in repose, resting or waiting—but in fact she was listening, her sensitive ears turned toward the twins.
She heard their soft hooves against the tile floor, and the heavy breathing from one of them. Then the slapping of doors and the creak of fine golden hinges as they checked the stalls, but M’Ress already knew that they were empty. She could not hear other ponies.
“That’s a Federation officer,” hissed one of them, suddenly, sounding on the verge of panic. “A Federation officer, brother, they know! They know what we’re doing!”
“Shut. UP.” This voice was identical to the other, but far more calm. “We’re just a couple of unicorns. The aliens don’t know. And they won’t know.”
“That doesn’t help! Brother, if the Princess joins the Federation, or monopoly is done! Over! We—we need to liquidate the assets now, as soon as possible, we can’t risk this, we just can’t--”
There was a sound of a hoof slapping a face. “Little brother. Listen to me, and listen carefully. Recall that the riskier the road, the greater the profit.”
Heavy breathing from the other, then deep breathing, followed by an angry hiss. “They are in control of the prototype core, if they take it--”
“They won’t. All the recovered records indicate the same thing. The Federation is full of weak simpletons. They don’t behave logically. They’ll turn the reactor back over to the Princess, and it will come right back to our company.”
“I don’t like it, brother, it requires too much trust...”
“We are a pair of legitimate business ponies. We’ve done nothing wrong. We just need to keep doing our job, let Twilight Sparkle keep doing hers, and trust that the purple vixen is interested in her plan actually succeeding.”
Laughter. Then, in a hushed tone. “Sedition and treason are always profitable, aren't they?”
More quiet laughter. “Exactly, brother. Now you’re seeing the path to profit.”
Water turned on, and M’Ress nearly jumped out of her metaphorical skin when something touched the left side of her face.
She turned, violently hissing, as a ball of feathers on a string was slapped repeatedly against her face. She looked down, prepared to gut something, and saw that the feathery object was held by a string supported by a pole which was in turn supported by a small plume of blue plasma—plasma generated by a blue unicorn in an absolutely hideous outfit.
“Get the toy, kitty! Get it! GET IT! The GREAT and POWERFUL Trrrrrrixie demands you play!”
M’Ress stood still, allowing the toy to be bounced off her face while she suppressed her rising rage. “That,” she said, “is extremely racist. I am not a cat. I am a Starfleet officer and--” She choked slightly as the toy was pushed in her mouth, and she pulled it back out. “AND an apex predator on my planet. You either lack sense or have voluntarily elected for a rapid and sudden death.”
The pony laughed and rolled her eyes. “The GREAT and POWERFUL Trixie is far to great and powerful for you to eat, and has eaten far too much moon-cheese for you to yeet. Also, ‘rapid’ and ‘sudden’ mean the same dang thing, it’s redundant.” She make a glib face and shook her head, causing the tiny bell pierced through her horn to jingle. For no apparent purpose apart from the sound. “You know, The Great and Powerful Trixie is a member of the Royal Court. Did you now that? I can get you an audience with the Princess, put in a good word to get you in the court. If you...you know...let me pet the kitty...”
M’Ress moved with speed that could not generally be attained by most Federation races. She wrapped her fingers around the pony’s horn, directly below where the bell was located.
The pony blushed slightly and rolled her eyes. “GAH! The Great and Powerful Trixie’s long and extremely hard organ! It’s been GRASPED! Help, help, I’m being turned on!” She then laughed--and M'Ress began to apply pressure. The pony's smile immediatly vanished, and her voice rose several octaves.
“Ow ow ow ow owowowowowowow—STOP! You’re going to break it!”
“Perhaps you do not deserve it if all you are going to use it for is to wave that stupid bell in my face. I was not intending to ingest a pony, but I am now VERY hungry and VERY engaged. And you are plump and juicy.”
Trixie squeaked in abject terror, and cried out again. Another pony—one of the few dressed in Lunar dress armor—rounded the corner. The massive violet unicorn with the broken horn.
“Tempest, help me! She’s going to unhorn me! I’ll be no better than a stupid-earth pony, and ugly, and worthless as a unicorn without my magic, I’ll have to go live in a hole because nopony wants to look at a hornless uni...oh.”
Tempest shrugged, her eyes meeting with M’Ress’s. “Go ahead. Snap it if you wish. She deserves it.” She pointed at her own shattered organ. “She already did it to me. Although the Princess will be angry if you ruin her pet fool.”
M’Ress took a breath, and tried to calm herself. There were Vulcan techniques for it that Spock had incessantly spoke of, as well as almost every other Vulcan at the Academy, but they obviously did not work for anyone who was not a desert-dwelling herbivorous philosopher. Still, M’Ress forced herself to let go.
“Ow ow ow , it’s bent, is it bent?! Tempest, she bended me! She was going to boop the snoot! She was going to--”
“Fool?” asked M'Ress, ignoring the annoying blue thing.
Tempest nodded. “Trixie is the court jester. Literally, a fool.”
“Hey, hey hey! It’s more than that, there’s a lot more! Trixie is a PERFORMER! She does not only jest!”
Tempest stared impassively at her. “Your most successful act involved putting on a pair of fake wings, covering yourself in chalk dust until you were white, and rolling in cake.”
“And the Princess laughed so hard she peed slightly, I saw it! Talk about the royal wee!”
Tempest groaned and put her hoof to her temple. “Trixie, how much cider have you had?”
“Not at all. There is no room for it inside Trixie. She has been stuffed to the brim with moon-cheese.”
“Then go find me me cider. I have not had enough to deal with you.”
“You can’t tell Trixie what to do, Trixie is Great, Powerful, and a member of the Royal Court. You’re just Captain of the Guard--”
“And I will BEND YOU if you don’t take a hint and stop trying to cause an interplanetary diplomatic incident.”
“Ha, you can’t bend Trixie, Trixie isn’t that flexible--”
Tempest put her front hooves together, leaning back on her armored flank, and cracked whatever the pony equivalent of knuckles was. Trixie’s eyes widened.
“You’re about to be.”
“No Trixie is not, because Trixie has important fooling around to do, thank you very much.” She trotted off quickly, but looked over her shoulder. “Call me, cat-lady, the Great and Powerful Trixie is also the Softest and Freshest-Smelling snuggler in all of Equestria!”
“No.”
Trixie still waddled off. Tempest sighed, and turned back to M’Ress. She was taller than most ponies, and dressed in a silvery metal with components of jet-black fabric draped over her body. Her mane was tied back in a tight military style, and her eyes were enormous.
“Listening?”
M’Ress stiffened. “To what?”
“I spent most of the first half of my life in the Badlands. I knew cat-folk. And I know you have better hearing than I do.” She walked past M’Ress. “You seem like you like listening to things. Take a walk with me. Now.”
M’Ress looked back to the restroom, and then started walking—and just as she did, the two twins stepped out. They looked at her, horrified by her presence, but she was already with Tempest and away from where she had been standing. Any closer and they would surely have become suspicious.
M’Ress continued to follow the pony, though, as she was lead through the crowd, past where Kirk was standing. He had apparently gotten the Princess laughing, nearly to the point of tears.
“You are Captain of the Guard.”
“The Lunar Guard, yes.” Tempest made a gesture to one of the servants, a young girl with bat-like wings and enormous eyes with slit-pupils. She promptly trotted off toward the kitchen. “For almost two years now. I was one of the first to emigrate. Back when ponies still considered it a penal colony for...misfits.” She looked up. One of her eyes had a scar running through it, although not to the point where it had blinded her. The wound to her horn, though, had scarred quite severely. “You were interested in Flim and Flam.”
“I was drinking my water.”
“M’Ress, was it? My name is Tempest Shadow. And I’m not your enemy.” Tempest gestured toward a table separate from the others, on a small balcony. Two bat servants were already bringing a special platter, hot from the kitchen. Tempest herself smelled terrible, reeking of berries and carbonation, but whatever was under the lid of the platter smelled absolutely delicious.
“Sit.”
M’Ress refused, but Tempest did not seem to care. She slid into the chair and the servants lifted the lid of the container—to reveal perfectly prepared salmon.
The salivation was immediate. M’Ress leaned forward, about to sit down, but then looked at the pony, hesitating. “Where did you get this?”
“From the shores of Mount Aria.” She pulled a piece to her own plate and, with unusual dexterity, used a fork and knife in her mouth to cut it. It was extremely tender, and she ate a small cube of it. “I acquired a taste for it when I liberated their kingdom from the Storm King. Who I used to work for. Until I usurped him. Believe it or not, I was once a revolutionary leader. Backed with moon-silver from the Court of the Moon, of course. How do you think I got this job?”
M’Ress, still hesitant, sat down. She took a piece of salmon and did not even bother to cut it. Her teeth were sufficiently sharp to gnaw on it.
“It’s delicious.”
“I know. That’s why I had them make it. That, and ponies hate the smell. We’ll be alone. For a few minutes, at least, at the rate you’re eating that.”
M’Ress had already eaten half a piece, but put it down. “Why?”
“Flim and Flam. You have an interest in them. And my only real interest at this point is protecting the Moon. Your captain is busy trying to plant is face in royal down and I don’t like the high-elf. That leaves you. So let’s share some fish and have a conversation.”
M’Ress nodded slowly. “And what do you know about them, then?” she asked, slowly.
Tempest chewed her fish, then focused her large eyes on the cat-woman across from her. “Flim and Flam. Unicorn brothers. Probably not purebloods, no recognized house. And co-owners of Equestria’s primary aerospace research and development firm. Division 51. Which makes them the wealthiest ponies on the planet.”
“Which is relevant to me why?"
Tempest leaned forward. “They were there at the beginning. They built the propulsion drives for the Powered-Pegasus program, they built the Unification rockets. They built half of the Dancer Prototype. Fifteen years ago, our fastest flying vehicle was a hot air balloon. Because of their company, we now have FTL technology.” Tempest sat back. “You’re an alien. Tell me. Is that about the normal speed that technology develops? On other planets?”
M’Ress frowned. “No.”
“Because you know history. But ponies lack the context to notice. But I did. I looked into it. Do you know what they were doing before aerospace engineering?”
“What?”
“Selling defective juice-presses to orchard owners. Hawking patent medicine. Running a diploma mill. All poorly. Small time scams. Neither one of them even has a middle-school education.”
“I highly doubt they build the rockets themselves.”
Tempest sneered. “Obviously. I’m not a moron like Trixie. As far as I can tell, their lead researcher is Twilight Sparkle, Celestia’s personal protege. But they’ve been recruiting more. Powerful unicorns from all across Equestria.”
“As far as you can tell,” repeated M’Ress, suspiciously.
Tempest nodded. “Selenite Dynamics, on the Moon, makes our rockets. I know what goes on there. But I don’t know what goes on in Division 51. Nopony does aside from the Princess herself. Ostensibly for national security reasons. There are other nations here that don’t like ponies. There aren’t on the moon. Nightmare Moon made sure of that.”
“And why are you telling me this?”
Tempest leaned even farther forward. M’Ress felt the fur on the back of her neck stand up as some unseen static force pulled her inward.
“Don’t trust Celestia. She knows something, but I don’t know what. That ship had a purpose. The vision of the motherly, kind, gentle queen? It’s an act. I’m one of the few living ponies who has ever seen the Nightmare Monolith. I’ve read it. I know what she’s erased from history, what she IS.”
M’Ress looked over her shoulder. “She’s flirting with my captain. Your suggestion is far-fetched, and I have no interest in playing politics. It simply does not concern me.”
Tempest released her. “You’re free to believe what you want. I’ve done all I can without starting a war. You’re neutral, though.” She cut her salmon and took another bite. “Something is going on at Division 51. Something Luna doesn’t know but Celestia does.” She paused, chewing. “And I would be careful with Moondancer, if I were you."
“She is on the Enterprise right now.”
“I know. I also know they’ve contacted her. Every other unicorn even close to her ability already works for Division 51. And that she was extremely close to Twilight Sparkle during their educational period. But Moondancer herself is a recluse. She hates ponies. I don't know what she's doing, or why. So I have no hard evidence. But she knows more than she’s letting on.”
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You forgot the "
" 
Well damn, I wonder which conspiracy is the one telling most of the truth.
Also poor Trixie. She takes to her part way too well and couldn't turn it off to flirt. Sure, she didn't have a chance due to Mress finding pony smell abhorrent, but still sad for her.
Flim and Flam on one side, Moonists mistrusting Sunnybunzilla on the other side...
Gotta love royal intrigue... Now excuse me, I need to sail away on the sea of sarcasm I just made.
Hmm, I wonder how Flim and Flam came into contact first. Maybe an automated probe picked up the extensive Dilithium deposits and they picked up an intresting gizmo?
Spikes not with Twilight? Sigh, I hate when my memory keeps messing up like this. The hardware is degrading because it hasnt been booted up for many years.
Division 51 is an obvious nod to Area 51, Skunkworks, but I cant remember what Division (number) is related to in movies, stories, series. Like X Files etc.
They have all the best unicorns, but do they grow the crystal matrices using Earth Pony Rock Farmers?
*walks up to Flim and Flam*
A moment please, sirs.
Oh, I do insist. *pulls out a late 24th century phaser* Or do I have to make you an example of Rule 125?
You call yourself Division 51. But you should have called yourselves 74. Knowledge equals profit.
Aaahhhh, Flim and Flam are Ferengi?? Now I have to wonder just what is in that core and whether Chrissy's involved ...
I'm not sure what's goign with the Flim Flam brothers but it's not good. I'm not sure that Tempest's suspicion of Celestia is warranted but she's right in wanting to know what is going on in divison 51. I bet that thew Flim Flam brothers have alien contacts that have spies to keep an eye on them for good reasons.
11058107
Totally unrelated to the Klingon probe, of course.
I don't mind the focus on secundary characters, but Kirk seem to be too centered in scoring with the pony princess to notice what's going on. Horny dog or not, he is usually competent enough to get the drop on the action on his own.
So... My guess is that they discovered a probe of some kind, likely with data pertaining to the intergalactic community. They were able to reverse engineer the tech and jump ahead several centuries.
As for how the warp core malfunctioned... Assuming the TyrantLestia plot thread isn't a red herring, with how this story has been so far I wouldn't be surprised if Celestia didn't just want to boink an alien... or break Twilight's toy so she would come out of her room and spend some time with Momma Tia.
11057682
hmm seems like a pony version of section 31......hell i woundnt be surprised IF they were actually involved somehow
Oh god. I hope flim flam are disguised feriengi or something.
Well, this is quite the nest of vipers the crew’s fallen into. Looking forward to seeing the secrets beneath the surface.
I've always liked M'Ress. I saw her when STTAS first ran on Saturday morning TV. Giving her a voice and hopefully an important role in this, is to me intriguing and I like it and I can see how it's easier because she's not as well known and more of a blank slate. Yes, I know there are some books with her in it, but she isn't as extensively utilized as Spock, Kirk, McCoy or Scotty. Looking forward to how you use her.
Flim and Flam where quoting the Rules of Acquisition, calling now they are half Feringi as I totally would expect a Feringi Geneticist to create pony hybrids just to rip off Equestria, heck a Feringi Geneticist would only exist if he could use his creations to rip people off! And give Twilight access to Warp arrive tech, yes smells like profit to me to give a OCD Genius advanced technology an patent her break thoughts, heck let the Ponies build the next generation warp drive and every species in the Galaxy is knocking on Equestria's door the profit to be astronomical!
I don't think Celestia is the bad guy like Tempest thinks, but she clearly suspects a LOT and is keeping it close to her chest. Luna maybe Princess of Night but Celestia does much more in the shadows. Also yes Tempest smelling like Berry Soda? She smells like her real name :)
Oh, well, there you go.
Uh. Uhhhh. Hm. Knowing the connotations of that word in some of your other stories, this just went up in creepiness potential, especially if it's somehow connected to Celestia. Of course, it could just be a normal sort of monolithy thing, and Tempest's references be about Daybreaker and ye olde happyfun murdertimes.
11057682
I think a pair of Ferengi with holo-technology killed and replaced them.
She's going to have nuclear war on the moon.
The Nightmare Monolith wouldn’t happen to have a width to length to height ratio of 1:2:4, would it?
They really need to find out who didn't double check those regs before letting Admiral Roddenberry enact them.
So, Trixie is even more of an idiot then normal, and Tempest is awesome. Yeah. F&F are very up to something, now... in active trade with other races... or did they find some crashed Ferenghi ship and get ponies smarter then then to reverse engineer it?
Either way, most likely the Celestia stuff is more Tempest's own bias. The real question is how involved in this is Purple Smart?