Chapter Forty Eight- The Weird of the Werewolf
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
THE WEIRD OF THE WEREWOLF
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…” The Doctor said softly as he came to stand by my chair, his eyes scrutinizing the Main Viewer. “That… should not be possible by these ‘Klingons’, Captain. Or anyone else in this day and age and region of this Galaxy for that matter.”
“That thought had occurred to me.” I said dryly. I turned toward the Doctor and pointed to the thing on the screen with my eyes. “So you’ve seen something similar before. My question to you is, based on your experience; can we hope to fight it? Our Sensors confirm that it’s indeed alive with a life force equal to a few million souls, presumably separated from The Prism for this purpose.”
“’Millions’, did you say?” His eyes regarded the thing on the screen almost sympathetically.
“We can’t be more precise.” I confirmed. “But at least a million individuals died to make that thing.”
“Are you sure they’re dead?” He asked, giving me a significant look.
I made an effort not to blink. “I don’t see how they could not be! Discord as much as told us that he sacrificed whole populations to make the Prism. How could anything live through the process?”
The Doctor shut his eyes, though his head remained high. “I am not a Magician, I am a Scientist. To me, Magic is infinitely more frightening than Science. Scientific knowledge is what you make of it, there’s always that choice. Magic, on the other hoof, by its very nature is function of intent! The choice is pre-made, intensely personal and colored… or tainted… by the will and desires of the spell-caster.” He opened his eyes suddenly to look at me intently. “Good intent makes good magic, evil makes evil. The trouble is,” He mused. “…That evil is so much more expedient. Especially when you all you care about is the results!”
“You’re preaching to the choir here, Doctor!” I said. “I’m an Earth Pony and an Equestrin, to boot! I have as much use for magic as a starship has for screen doors. I put up with it, but I don’t understand its ins and outs. Give me Physics over Metaphysics any day!” I looked at him narrowly. “Are you saying that there’s a chance that the people who went into the Prism are still alive?’
“It makes more sense, doesn’t it?” The Doctor said distractedly, eyeing the ship slowly growing larger on the screen. “As I understand it, a dead thing has only so much inherent Magic to it. A finite quantity, if you will. An enchanted gem, once it is exhausted, is nothing more than a rock. A live thing has so much more. Once tapped, if you take a modicum of care it will make more again and again. He’d be much farther ahead in keeping his ‘batteries’ alive, wouldn’t he?” He looked at me with eyes that defied description.
“That’s… a ghastly thought, Doctor.” I considered the thing that was stalking us. “But there’s no way to tell, is there? For all we know that… thing… is little more than an animal. No more sentient than a plague bacterium.”
“Let’s hope you’re right, Captain. Let’s hope you’re right…” He eyed the Science Station. “May I?”
“Make it quick, Doctor. We’re running out of time!” I reminded him.
“Shouldn’t take a moment!” With that he trotted over to Milky Way’s station and reared up on his hindlegs, planting his forehooves on the edge of the console as his head dipped into his pocket to retrieve what I’d earlier taken for a rather clumsy stylus.
It was dull silver in color and asymmetrically studded with rectangular protrusions here and there along its length. The end he held in his teeth was plain but the end he pointed at the displays bore a convex blue lens or perhaps it a gem, I was too far away to tell. It was bracketed by three small protrusions evenly spaced around it. He propped his splayed elbows and reached with his forehooves to touch the thing purposefully with his hoof-tips. The blue end glowed and the thing emitted the trilling buzz that I recognized hearing over the intercom earlier. With his mouth, he waved it in a lazy figure-eight over the station. As I watched, the indicator lights flashed and changed pattern. He paused, peering intently, and hoofed a control here and there and repeated the process. When he was satisfied he reached up and turned the thing off, dipping his head to return it to his pocket. He dropped lightly back onto all fours and beckoned to Ensign Way with a forehoof.
“Just put that over your speaker, would you?”
Milky Way, clearly as bemused by all this as I was, gave me a questioning look. I nodded and she tabbed her comm panel.
At first, the Mare in my Head refused to believe it was anything more than static issuing from the speaker. It rose and fell, changing in pitch not unlike the radio-frequency noise from the depths of any gas giant world. Badlantis or Jupiter made similar noises, as did similar celestial bodies in a hundred other star systems. But it soon became apparent that there was a different quality to this sound. I can think of no better description of it than a veritable Choir of the Damned, innumerable voices crying out all frozen on a note, the very essence of pain and fear and madness and despair neverending. One note, a voice of preternatural timbre and raw primal power twined itself among the others, tormenting them as it was tormented with an eerie wail that set it horribly apart from the tortured multitude. The sound filled the Bridge and seemed, somehow, to begin seeping into our heads. Augment Control or not, in a few more moments I’m sure my mane would have been standing on its end. We Ponies blanched as we heard it, the Doctor looked grim as he reared up and hoofed the comm panel off.
“That,” He said as he resumed his footing. “Is the audio representation of the signals coming in over your Sensors, rather than floating indicators of signal strength. Something on the order of over five million, two hundred thousand combined… sources.” He made a bitter face as he continued in the silence that smothered the Bridge. “It’s an atrocity worthy of the Daleks!”
The Bridge crew exchanged stark glances. I was the first to break the silence.
“If we destroy that ship we’ll put them out of their misery, won’t we, Doctor?”
“I hope we can do better than that, Captain.” He said quietly. “We should try to save them. Don’t they deserve that chance?”
I cocked an eye at the looming image on the screen. “I don’t think they’re going to give us the chance, Doctor. We’ll have to fight, there’s just no other way.”
The Doctor moved not a muscle and only gazed at me a little sadly.
“In the Federation I knew Ponies would have moved Paradise and Earth to do such a thing. Granted, such altruism came about later in its history. Still… one would think the seeds of that noble, idealistic organization would have at least been planted by now.”
“Starfleet just fought the Romulan War.” I said a little stiffly. “It was a Hell of a fight and we’re still pulling ourselves back together! All our Captains and most of our Crews are War Veterans…”
“You’re not at war now, Captain.” He pointed out reasonably. “Maybe it’s time to start thinking outside of the old helmet, eh?”
I bit back an impulse to throw the Damn Civilian off my Bridge… but he did have a point. The Federation was founded on higher ideals. The very reason the Tellarites, Vulcans, and Andorians agreed to join in the first place was the fact that we held ourselves to a higher moral standard for the betterment of all … even when it was inconvenient or dangerous to do so! The Romulans hardened us and the tone in much of Starfleet these days was much more cynical than the halcyon days of Archer. I would even go so far as to say that we’d become jaded after our experiences with the Romulans and Klingons. It’s true that Starfleet is not, per se, a Military Organization… but there had been a tendency of late to rely on balephasers and torpedoes rather than diplomacy and giving the benefit of the doubt. The memory of Starbase One still burned in a lot of hearts and Harmony and Friendship had taken a back seat to Security and Prudence.
Concerns had been voiced in the Federation Council along these lines and, indeed, the criteria for joining Starfleet had been in the process of being updated ever since the War. Starfleet needed more than just numbers these days. A whole new class of class of future Officers and Crew were being sought for a new generation of ships. My old shipmates and I were among the last of the Old Guard. I was, you’ll pardon the expression, ‘starry-eyed’ enough to anticipate the changes yet… I was a product of my times, these ‘New Ponies’ the Media made such a fuss about were a thing I had trouble comprehending. When… how… did I come to feel so old fashioned all of a sudden?
Yeah, the Doctor’s words stung. I swiveled slowly to face him.
“All right, Doctor.” I said patiently. “Do you have an idea about how we can safely get those people separated from that ship? We have…” My eyes flicked to the chronometer. “About five minutes till they intercept us, if you have a plan now’s the time to implement it!”
“Well I’m just making this up as I go. Necessity is the mother of invention and all that!” The little brown stallion gave me a brief, winning grin before turning to Milky Way. “I was wondering if I could enlist your help. I’m not a magic-user by any definition of the term…”
“Said the Pony with the Time-Travelling Blue Box!” I muttered.
The Doctor rolled a fey eye at me and continued. “As I was saying, I understand that these Klingons do not use magic yet that ship is positively blazing with it now! I was wondering if you could do some sort of comparative scan with your own vessel. I need to know how their magic differs from yours. They simply can’t be experts in the craft in so short a time! There may be subtle aspects of magic they may be ignorant of. It may give us something to work with.”
Milky Way glanced over at me and I nodded. “Work with him, Ensign. He’s got a point… even if he isn’t a Unicorn!”
“That, Madame, was truly execrable!” He grinned as he said it, though.
“You’re only mad that I said it first!” I brought my chair to face the screen again. “Now get to work! I’m going to see what I can do to buy us some time. Code! Open hailing frequencies and get me the Klingon ship!”
“Aye-aye, Ma’am!” He worked his board a moment then, “On screen, Captain!”
I nodded and braced myself to come face to face with Discord yet again. I was surprised… and disturbed… when Captain Kyr’s face leered at me from the Main Viewer.
He was worse for the wear in more ways than I’d expected! The viewer angle was still low; all we could see was his upper torso. There was an even more pronounced, oily sheen to his hide and there was a scruffy patchiness to the portions I could see. His version of a mane was slicked back away from his forehead and I would have sworn his ears were even longer, more pointed, with bristling tips. He looked gaunter than before and his fangs were even more pronounced as his lips split open in a feral grin.
He wore the same uniform as before, but his gold sash had been replaced with a new one. This version was bare of medals and bore the device of what I could only describe as some weird, octopus-head motif. Tentacles of gold ran from it, forming a band that circled his torso diagonally. I had the uncomfortable impression that the thing was clutching him in its grasp, and the blank silver eyes glared from his chest.
His moustaches were even longer and they quivered as he assumed an expression of mock concern.
“Where is the old Pegasus? Too feeble to fight his ship?”
“Captain Caper is dead, Kyr.” I said flatly. “I’m in command now.”
“Ah! So you’ve killed him for his senile incompetence then. There may be hope for you Earthers yet!” His voice still retained the oily unctuousness I remembered. He smiled condescendingly at me as he sat back in his seat.
“Caper died as a result of combat with your Boarding Party, the one Kruze led.” I ground out.
The Klingon nodded approvingly as he eyed me searchingly. “Then he managed to die a Warrior’s Death after all. You’ll be in good company then when we destroy you. Take heart, female, your end will add to the glory of the Klingon Empire!”
“Bold talk, Kyr, but as we say on Equestris ‘Cider costs credits’! Get within spitting distance again and the Switchblade will need more than a facelift to take us out… as you’ve already seen! Now get off the line and let me talk to your boss, Discord! I don’t have time waste talking to his servants.”
The ‘servants’ crack must have a special significance among Klingons, for Kyr’s eyes blazed though his expression didn’t. Rather, he looked upon me pityingly and pursed his lips.
“Bold talk, indeed, from a mere female.” He cocked his head and appraised me in disgusting detail with his gaze. “I had thought to give you to my Marines. My old ones, that is! My new ones have no need of you, but I only give them real meat that is worthy of them. Rather than kill you, perhaps I might take you for myself along with the Alicorn and show the two of you the error of your misguided, soft, Earther ways. Equestrins are simply Earthers writ large, after all. You’re still soft, mewling Ponies underneath all that bluster.” He waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll see! In any event, the Switchblade is no more. Haven’t your feeble systems told you that, female? You are in the presence of a new ship now. Behold the…” The translation matrix paused for a moment before supplying the name. “Werewolf!”
He touched no control or even made a gesture yet the camera panned back to reveal a nightmare that would make Nightmare Moon turn away! In the dim, reddish light of the Klingon Bridge we all could see that Kyr was part of his throne-like chair now. His legs were gone, below his ribs he was a mass of swollen scarlet tentacles… roots… cables? I simply could not tell, but he was solidly connected to the deck by these pulsing, trembling extremities. The deck at what used to be his feet was an uneven mound, the plating overrun by finer and finer versions of the massive trunks that made up his lower body. Those that weren’t latched firmly into the floor quested blindly at the air like tiny rootlets covered in maggots. With a start, I suddenly realized that portions of that uneven mound were actually corpses twined about with uncounted ropes of the stuff that entered their bodies through every open orifice of their naked bodies. … Then one of the bodies opened an exposed eye that rolled up in its socket, staring at nothing except the nightmares within as the body gave a feeble, hopeless quiver.
I’m an Equestrin, bred to be strong and enduring to survive a harsh and unforgiving world. I’d survived the Romulan War and all the Equine suffering it caused. I’ve seen Delta-burned Ponies writhing as their very flesh sloughed away. I’ve seen Ponies, eviscerated, trying to futilely stuff their living guts back into their bodies in the aftermath battle with a foe we never set eyes upon. I’ve seen flash-burned corpses still at their posts after plasma fires fall to sifting ash when Damage Control opened their compartments. The sight of Captain Kyr, however, was a magnitude of horror beyond my worst imagining. I gripped the arms of my chair and forced my eyes up again to meet Kyr’s. Somepony, True North I think, gagged and retched dryly as the Klingon chuckled.
“Lord Discord is a good judge of character. He knows that the Empire is the most fit to rule the Galaxy and has graciously offered his assistance to bring about the downfall of your puling Federation.” He sneered; his lips curling back to expose his fangs. “My ship is the equal of any Federation Task Force! And it is only the first of many! I will take your ship; make no mistake about that, female! Those among your crew we do not take as prizes will be used like the spineless beasts of labor they are to make it a worthy vessel to maraud and plunder the shipping of the Federation and other lesser species. Other vessels will be blessed with Lord Discord’s Gift of Strength and they will pass that Gift to countless others until we overrun all the Empire’s deluded enemies and they are reduced to their proper rank as servants of the Warriors of the glorious Klingon Empire!” He all but howled the last, raising a victorious fist as his ‘sash’ twitched and wriggled independent of his body.
I like to think that I’m not easily intimidated… but I had to swallow nonetheless before I could reply.
“You’re a poor judge of Discord, Kyr, if you think that he gave you this… gift… out of the kindness of his heart! He doesn’t have one!” I strove to catch his mad eyes although I frankly shuddered at what I saw there. “What did he offer you, Kyr? The governorship of Earth? The Federation? The Klingon Homeworld? He’s the Living Embodiment of Pure Chaos, you cracked geode, think about it! What do you think the Empire will do when you bring your freakshow fleet to them? Welcome you with open arms?”
“I am a loyal Warrior of the Empire, Pony!” Kyr snarled. “Not a weak, spineless bureaucrat!” He spat that last word and glared at me. “The Empire will send overseers to administer the slaves your people will be. My fleet will turn outward to do glorious battle with the next enemies of the Empire until the Klingons reign supreme as is our right as the greatest Warriors!”
In that moment I finally found my Center. The desperation, disgust, and, yes, fear fell away and I looked at the once-Klingon with the perfect clarity and dispassion as the techniques my ancestors honed on distant Earth took hold. I took a cleansing breath and locked eyes with him.
“Those claims of rightful superiority have been made before, on Earth. My own ancestors genetically altered themselves to be Perfect Physical Specimens of Equine kind. We were stronger, healthier, clearer of thought and stronger of will than our cousins. The idea among us began that we alone were worthy of continuing our race, that we were the fittest, that we were the Destiny of Ponykind. One among us heeded that idea and launched a war of extermination that Earth is still recovering from. Not all of them listened. My direct forebears left Earth to pursue their path among the stars. The Earth was thrown into turmoil for a century. In the end they all lost, Khan, my ancestors, and the Earth itself. Nothing was gained for anypony except for the One whose whispered urgings began it all… your ‘Lord Discord’. It was all for his amusement, Kyr. Billions died while he laughed! He left the Earth long, long ago but he hasn’t changed. His game board is bigger now, that’s all. He set the Romulans on us, he arranged for the conflicts between your own people and mine. And now he’s playing you like a tin flute, manipulating you, Kyr, for his personal amusement. He has no regard for the Klingon Empire and will bring it down, setting world against world in endless conflict with no victory except for him. It’s what he does, Kyr! It’s all he ever does! Think, Kyr! Do you want to fight the battles of your Empire for your Empire or do you want to be the puppets of an insane demigod? For he is crazy, you know, crazier than a computer in a solar flare!” I laced my fingers in my lap and leaned forward in my chair. “Consider this, Kyr! Discord built a brand-new ship for you out of nothing but malice and magic. If he wanted to destroy the Federation why didn’t he make an entire armada so irresistible that he’d sweep all before him? Instead he souped-up just one ship, yours, and put it on our tail. With that kind of power at his disposal he could flick us like a flea but he got you to do his dirty work for him! Why would he do that, Kyr, except because the thought of you and me fighting to the death strikes him as funny? You’re just a toy to him! Have you seen the Prism yet? The thing that gives him all his power? You’ll be part of it in the end, we all will unless we stop him! We’ll all be the playthings of the Lord of Chaos.”
I flattered myself to think that some of what I hurried to say was getting through to him. He didn’t cut me off and it was just possible that for a fleeting instant I saw something like a shadow of doubt in his dark brown eyes. I pressed my case.
“We’re trying to stop him once and for all so that the fight between your peoples and mine will be an honest one, fought with our own hooves and minds for an honest victory without interference. What kind of idiocy is it to waste time fighting in a collapsing tunnel, Kyr? Let us pass… for all our sakes!”
Were I trying to reason with any other being but Kyr it might have worked. But the Taint of Chaos was upon him and I watched whatever reasoning he had left flee his eyes even as something like calmness soothed his expression. He became once again, the oily, smooth creature I first met.
“You are truly pathetic, you Earthers!” He shook his head, his thin moustaches whipping. “Instead of steeling yourselves to die like Warriors you seek to add a few more seconds to your worthless lives by talking!” He gave me a look that dripped mock-pity. “But the time for talking is gone, I’m afraid! When next we meet it will be aboard my ship… in the company of your pretty friend.” He leered into my face. “I do so look forward to it!”
“Wait Captain, ‘Kyr’, is it?” During my unproductive talk with the Klingon the Doctor and Milky Way had been working in quiet haste at the Sciences Station. Now the Stallion stepped forward and addressed the screen.
“She’s right, you know. You have the ability to stop this before it starts. You don’t have to do this. I urge you to reconsider for your sake and the sake of what is left of your crew. For the sake of your Empire, the Federation, and all the worlds caught between them I ask you; please do not do this!” He appealed to the Klingon abomination with all the sincerity his wide, blue eyes could muster.
Kyr kept the channel open just long enough to curl his lip. He ignored the Doctor entirely and turned his gaze to me.
“Earthers!” He sneered. “Even your livestock are cowards!”
The screen went reverted to its view of the one-time Switchblade and I slumped as far as my cramped seat would allow as I released myself from Augmented Control, shutting my eyes for just a moment and trying to rid my mind of the image of Captain Kyr and his nightmare Bridge.
“Um, two minutes and eleven seconds till intercept.” True North said in the silence that followed, peering hesitantly over her shoulder at me. I straightened up as I saw the fear… and trust… in those young eyes. There was no time to indulge in doubt or uncertainty. Caper’s crew… my crew… deserved better.
“Stand by to secure from Warp.” I told her, then directed my voice toward Engineering.
“Maglev! Prepare to divert Warp Power to shields and weapons systems. Leave me enough for a burst of Warp maneuvering. Warp One should be sufficient.” I gathered their eyes up with my own. “You all saw what’s on that ship. You heard what Kyr intends to do. We’re going to have to fight and fight hard! But if it goes against us I’m not going to allow anypony aboard this ship to go the way of Kyr’s crew. If he wants this ship so badly I’ll ram it down his throat at lightspeed! I don’t care if that ship is made of degenerate matter, thirty-seven thousand tons of mass at trans-relativistic velocity is enough to ruin anypony’s day!” I paused to smile grimly. “If it comes to that! He’s underestimated us twice already, let’s teach him his final lesson about tangling with Starfleet!”
I swung my chair around to face the Doctor who was still frowning at the screen.
“Doctor, if you and Milky Way have a plan I need to hear it and now. Otherwise it’s going to be one hell of a slug-fest!”
“‘Livestock’, indeed!” He said, affronted. “That’s a classic example of bipedal bias against quadrupeds! Never thought I’d see it directed against me, though. I didn’t choose this form, you know! It’s the one I ended up with when I came to this Universe! … Personally, I thought I cut quite the dashing figure if I do say so myself!” He paused and gave himself a once-over, craning his neck to examine himself from as many angles as possible. Though I didn’t dare show it, my heart leaped inside me. If he could be so frivolous at a time like that it could only mean that he had something up his four-legged sleeve!
I couldn’t manage a proper kick to his backside; the best I could do was to extend one leg and swing my chair enough to make contact smack in the middle of his Cutie-Mark!
“Spill it, Doc! What have you two cooked up?”
“Steady on!” He gave me an injured look that evoked no sympathy whatsoever, if the smirks from around the Bridge were any indication, that is! “It’s no wonder you Equestrins have a reputation for being so heavy-handed, er, hoofed!”
“Like we say on Equestris, ‘You can’t argue with results!’. I’ll apologize later… if we’re still around to do so. Now give!”
“Ahem!” The Doctor made a show of straightening his clothes and collecting his eclectic dignity before answering. “With the help of Miss Way, who understands the ins and outs of Magic far better than I ever will, I might add, I believe we can exploit a defect in the way the Klingons are making use of their new-found power source. With the aid of your Engineers we should be able to neutralize their ship and make free those souls trapped within it. Like most brilliant solutions it makes perfect sense in hindsight…”
“Work now, smug later!” I told him an instant before True North cried out.
“Captain! They’ve teleported!”
The Hermes gave an almighty heave as it rocked under the Klingon barrage…!
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3449895 I know!
I'm just feeling particularly old and crochety these last couple of days. The sudden cooling-off of the weather is making me feel like I have rust in my joints, oy!
Things are definitely getting messy. Id offer to work on manipulating, horribly, the warp structures around the ship, but as you said about the yield of quantum torpedoes, which I beleive the effect would turn out to be, things could get extremely messy extremely quickly.
There was something about Magical fields I was looking at some years ago, something because of the way the Sidhe realm interacted with normal reality, and behaved itself. Something about the magical field itself was effecetively alive, and so I could match in with my energy life forms and computational logic ideas.
Teleporting their whole ship! Now that just isn't fair!
3453505 What did you expect from Klingons, the Marquis of Queensbury Rules?
3452833... There's article on Magical Fields!?
3454699 Well Klingons usually fight far, it's a matter of honor.
3453505
Well, the Doctor might disagree.
3454742Heh heh, you've got a point there.
3454703
Unfortunately nothing of detail, never mind published or even posted, and I cant remember how far back, 10, 15, 25 years or so. It was due to stories where certain things occured, but not others that varies only slightly, how technology wwouldnt work, such as percusion cap guns, which are a sharp item hitting a natural chemical, in contact with a mix of three very basic natural chemicals, to propel a piece of natural metal.
Dont forget, ripening fruit emit ethylene gas, and you only need it to settle on certain metals such as iron for it to self polymerise and turn into plastic. Youll see it described as a waxy like deposit. Makes for very clean burning candles.
In order to discern between the intent of a structure, you need increadibly complex analysis, which beyond a certain level, becomes self aware. Therefore, the magical field, which can be totally the wrong dsescription but it works, can be considered to be equivalent to sentient aether, existing on an dimentional basis orthogonal to that of natural life, and technology science.
Or I could just be talking out of chocolate rain filled cotton candy cloud.
3455971 Hmm... puts me in mind of Nine Princes in Amber where gunpowder doesn't work in the One True World, Amber. It is discovered, though, that an otherwise harmless jeweler's polish from an adjacent realm burns just like it when brought to Amber. The hero has guns made on Earth with what, to us, were inert primers and takes them Home to overthrow his brother's usurpation of the Throne. Great story, check it out at the Library!
3454711 Ah, but at this stage of the game there isn't enough cultural exchange between the Federation and the Empire for that aspect of Klingon psychology to be known.
...Come to that, how much honor did Kang, Kor, and Koloth show in their dealings with Kirk?
3454742 Indeed, so! He's the ultimate pacifist so he'd naturally be against anything Klingon warrior society would propose.
I'm having a real hard time with my interpretation of Our Little Timelord. I'd like him to come off as Matt Smith but he ends up talking like Pertwee/Harnell/Baker. Oh, well!
3456383
If he's a new regeneration, it kind of makes sense for him to have his own flavor.
And he's been hanging around ponies for a while, I imagine that'd have a few effects. Just five minutes with Pinkie Pie would do that. 
3457774 Could you imagine the CMC running amok in he TARDIS?!
3463286
"Wow," Scootaloo breathed. "Sweetie Belle, is that what I think it is?"
"It sure is," Apple Bloom said happily. "She just got her cutie mark!"
Scootaloo studied he mark on the beaming filly's side. It was a dark shape, wreathed in a spiral glow. "It's.. um.. Nice." She blinked, and decided for the honest approach. "Any idea what it is?"
"I'm not sure," Sweetie Belle said. "I think it was because of when I pushed those buttons and those stars all lit up and then kind of winked out. You know, right before the Doctor said he had to go lie down for a while?"
"I think he's just jealous that he only got an hour glass for his," Apple Bloom whispered.
3431240 ... Ya know, I finally got that! A Mare named 'Milky Way' commenting on Starry's anatomy!
Oy! Nice to know there's no senility going on here!
3463402 Hmmm.... Sounds like you've given this scenario some thought! How soon till the story?
3468899
Naw, that's all I've got. I owe readers a denouement to a cheesy HiE farce I wrote, and I'll wrap that up as best as I can after I get through a work-related test later this month, but except for that I'm taking a hiatus (or a break, depending on how sophisticated I feel
) from writing, or at least publishing.
I think I have more fun reading stories (like yours), anyway.
3469119 *Puts on a sleeveless flannel shirt & ball cap!* Shewt! I ain't one of them thar high-falutin' Ponies! Hay, I got some cream y'all kin put on that high-atus! (That there's Latin for sumpin' to do with yer bottom, right? Y'know, 'high-anus'!)
Aw, that's funny I don't care who ya are!
Whatsa 'Hi E', anyhow? Talk Engitch like the rest of us folks!
3473934
Human In Equestria -- a somewhat controversial kind of pony story, wherein a human visits Equestria through some arcane oddity (or, like mine, gets lost using Apple maps), often ends up an alicorn (or a bicorn, like mine -- not, as Pinkie first thought, a bike horn), frequently becomes the seventh Element (e.g., courage, faith, or in my character's case, nitrogen), and typically saves Equestria while the Mane 6 more-or-less tag along.
So often a self-insert wish-fulfillment story that the whole sub-genre's become looked down upon, thoughI'm sure there areplenty of good ones out there, too Obviously I had fun subverting the tendencies of the worst. The reception, though, was... decidedly mixed.