First published
Three Thousand Years into Earth's future, the Galaxy is a very small playground. Two great factions battle for control, the democratic Republic, based on the ideals, technology, and language of a long-dead insectoid race, and the tyrannical Imperious, split from the Republic thousands of years into the past, forged by the roiling mass of power. During this epic struggle, one of the best Armored Corps teams, sent on a secret and highly important mission, disappear after a run-in with a dimensional Ion storm. How will the Republic cope with their loss? How will Equestria deal with their appearance? How will they manage in this new world?
Based entirely on my own original universe, with references to some games and movies sprinkled throughout.
Teen for violence, and possible gore in later chapters.
I apologize, but this story is being cancelled until further notice due to lack of inspiration and free-time to write. I would like to warn any new readers about this development before they get too excited,
Do not lose hope, however. If and when I get more free-time I will attempt this story again, but right now it is too much.
Greatest apologies
Gordon Freebrony
Video Log: 13.113.243-54-A
Stardate: 13.113.243
Earth Year Equivalent (EYE): 5429
Subject: Colonel Tyrone Shephard, Noble Team
Team Roster: Col. Tyrone ‘Brain’ A. Shephard, Maj. Jack ‘Blade’ S. Carter, Corp. Teal ‘Boomer’ C. Jackson, Pvt. Soren ‘Scope’ P. Chekov
Location: ‘City of Angels,’ Filstia Prime, Filst System
Assignment: Secure and Protect Human Ambassador.
________________________________________________________________________
“Noble Team, check in.” said Shephard, his clicking, slightly guttural, accented voice speaking out over the radio.
“Boomer, checking in,” said Jackson, his insectoid, Helios accent filled the airwaves.
“Blade here,” Carter said, allowing his guttural voice to slip out of the coded common they spoke.
“Scope here, in position and rarin’ to go!” Chekov, the enthusiastic new member of Noble team said, his Ramnatic accent making his Common barely understandable.
“Stay in position, keep your Cloaks on unless something happens. Remember, the government knows we’re here. The Imperious terrorists don’t.”
Affirmative responsive fled through the speakers in Shephard’s helmet, allowing themselves into his ear. To an outside observer, Shephard would look like nothing more than a slight ripple in the air. Only highly trained eyes would be able to spot him, and those only at extremely close range.
Suddenly, a call rang forth over the radio, the voice of his CO blaring through the speakers of his and his team’s radios.
“Alright, showtime ladies! You know what to do,” Said the General, watching from an orbital battlecruiser.
“You heard the boss, Scope, keep a bead on the Ambassador. Blade, you’re with me. And Boomer, set up your ‘distraction.’ Just keep it out of civilian areas,” Shephard ordered.
“Brain, I already got my gear set up. You don’t have to mother me you know,” Jackson said.
“Ignore the big guy, Boss, we got a show to put on,” Carter said, de-cloaking beside Shephard. His HUD had shown the hulking, cloaked mass walking up. When the exo-suit de-cloaked, however, he actually got the details of the suit. It was a huge, seven-foot tall mass of metal. The five-foot-wide shoulders attached the thick arms to the body, the artistic styling of the entire suit giving one the impression of an insect. The helmet itself was a round, smooth conical structure, with small horn-like projections leading up to the top. Six parallel strips led up the front of the helmet, housing the redundant visual sensors as well as helping with the entire insectoid look. The chest piece was a jagged cylinder, emphasizing the hard angles in the nestling armored plates. Each suit looked identical to the next one, the dark, almost black color lending them a semi-demonic look.
Carter’s ‘ceremonial’ sword was strapped to his exo-suit’s back, the intricately carved handle peaking over his right shoulder. Shephard knew that the energy blade could shear through an Arachnid-Class Tank with ease, to say nothing of what it could do to unshielded armor. The blade itself was made of a rare alloy, making it stronger than any other known metal. It never dulled, and it would only change shape in the heat from a star. The blades themselves were forged in a time long past, the secrets of them lost to the ages. Only six teams in the Republic’s forces were equipped with them, and Shephard found it to be a point of pride that his team had been so equipped.
Shephard’s ruminations were cut off by Carter, who pulled out his MG34 Mark III ‘Plasma Blaster’ Rifle and ran an automatic and a manual diagnostic. Shephard copied his teammate’s actions, before re-cloaking, walking forward and out of the ‘escape pod’ that had crashed here earlier. The Republic had wanted Noble Team deployed in secret, only appearing near the Ambassador when she gave her speech. They decided that a malfunctioning escape pod bay on a small merchant ship would provide the perfect cover,
According to the debriefing, Chekov would be providing Overwatch while Jackson set up ‘distractions’ around the public area. Shephard and Carter would be the Ambassador’s personal Guard.
The two suited soldiers sprinted down the tight alleyways of the poor district of the ‘City of Angels,’ their cloaks barely needed in the blackness of the alleys. The sun had yet to touch the tops of the high skyscrapers surrounding them.
“City of Angels my ass,” Carter said, cutting through Shephard’s speakers, “This place looks worse than a Rakk-dog’s behind!” He indicated the piles of filth lining the streets, his cloaked arm a ghostly, glowing blue cylinder on Shephard’s HUD.
“Cut the chatter,” replied Shephard, “Even if I agree with you, we are on silent in transit, unless Case-Zero happens.” Case-Zero was code for ‘worst case scenario,’ which in this instance was an Imperius attack.
“Acknowledged, signing off,” Carter replied.
The two cloaked figures emerged into a large plaza, the early-morning sunshine streaming into it. It was surrounded by small shops, although the names suggested questionable wares and services. One of the names was “Sleazy Joe’s Pleasure Slaves, for all your fantastical desires!” Shephard shook his head, turning into another alleyway, leading Carter through the maze of tight alleys and small plazas. They finally exited the poor district, noticeable by the lack of trash. Even the buildings changed, the dark concrete turning over into bronze metal plating. The streets were plated too, the boots of the exo-suits clanging against them until the silencing gel covered the metal studs in the rubber soles. After a short walk, they walked into a discreetly opening door, which lead into a small lobby like room. A small, squid-like humanoid stood there, waving the pink tentacles on his head around nervously. He squinted around, before discreetly pulling off his cap and wringing it in his two main tentacles. He then put it back on, pointing the brim towards a freight elevator.
Shephard took the hint, opening the door and walking into the elevator, followed by Carter. Shephard pushed the ‘balcony’ button, barely avoiding pressing the surrounding buttons with his massive, armored finger.
“We really need a smaller version of this suit,” Shephard said, looking towards Carter, “Have you heard of the new plan they are working on? The bio-engineered soldiers with their neuro-tech armor?”
“Project ‘S’?” Carter answered, taken aback by his commanding officer’s breach of radio silence. “Yeah. I ‘eard of it. Supposed to put us out of a job.”
“Right, like that’s gonna happen. Alright, almost there. We’ll decloak to check in, and then we’ll use some sort of ‘experimental camouflage’ to appear like a normal guard. I love science as much as the next guy, but all of this experimental tech being used on missions of this import gives me a really bad feeling.”
“I know what you mean, Brain,” replied Carter, “but orders are orders.”
The conversation was cut off by the ”ding” of the elevator. The two cloaked masses left the elevator, moving into the cramped hallway. They moved into the only available door, entering a large room with a wall-sized door on the other side. The room was sparsely furnished, with a few squishy chairs and a small table lining the edges. In the center of the room, two human guards stood, their lightly armored frames standing stock-still. The Ambassador stood between them, her expression a perfect poker face.
“Colonel, Major, I presume that that was you,” She said, her rich voice filling the room.
“Yes ma’am,” Shephard said, de-cloaking with Carter. The two guards took an involuntary step back as the metal giants appeared.
“Ma’am, I assume you have the experimentals with you?” Carter asked, gesturing towards the two coppery boxes in her hand.
“Yes, and you can just call me Solaris,” Replied the Ambassador, holding forth the two cubes in her hand. “If you just plug these in to your AI slot, your suits will automatically update. As long as this is in your suits, you will be able to change your appearance.”
“Same deal as the cloak when it was first being tested, ma’a- I mean Solaris?”
“Y-yes, I guess, assuming they used the update cubes to reconfigure your armor,” replied Solaris, her voice faltering for a moment.
“Okay. Here I go.” Shephard plugged the cube into the AI slot at the base of his neck. It took a moment for the update to take place, small repair bots going about and reconfiguring the hardware of the armor to fit the new parameters. Soon, his figure shrunk, the bent light waves visible for a few moments as the generator worked it’s magic. Soon, Shephard looked like a normal human in armor, even his blade and gun appearing to have shrunk.
“This is weird,” Shephard stated bluntly, holding up a hand in front of his face. “I still see myself at the same size, yet also at this small size. It’s giving me a headache. Wait, there we go.” A small wave ran over the generated body, seeming to solidify the small figure before them. “Now I can see as if I was cloaked. Alright, Blade, your up.”
“Yes, sir.” Carter shoved his update cube into the slot, soon appearing to become a copy of Shephard.
“Good, now Shephard- do you mind if I call you Shephard?” Solaris began, turning her eyes towards Shephard. When he nodded, she continued, “Alright, Shephard, Carter, I believe you were briefed before about everything before? Just to recap, I will be giving my speech, and you will guard unless, or more than likely, until Imperious spies open fire.”
“Yes, Ma’am. I mean, Solaris,” Shephard replied, his habit breaking forth against the Ambassador’s earlier wishes.
“Good. We start in a half-hour,” Solaris replied, moving over to one of the couches.
The next thirty minutes passed quickly for the small group, the human guards staying by their charge while Noble Team took up the other end of the room. Carter pulled out his sword, slowly cleaning and inspecting the shining, almost perfect blade. Shephard fieldstripped his rifle before cleaning it and rebuilding it. His mind was racing during the monotonous procedure, however, allowing his body to fall into its old habits as he contemplated different scenarios and how he would react to them.
Fully flanked, plasma fire coming in from all sides. Ambassador’s shielding down. Blade, take up left position. I got right. Boomer, activate traps. Scopes, take ‘em down. Use my Plasma Blaster to kill what I can. Pull Ambassador inside.
Guards turn traitor. Elbow in face, use knife to slit throat. Pull Ambassador inside.
Ambassador kidnapped by hover-vehicle. Jump after, grab on. Use-
His thoughts were interrupted by the Ambassador getting up, moving towards the balcony door. She waved towards Shephard, who got up and took his position on the right of her. Carter mirrored his actions on the other side. With the two guards, the whole procession was in an arrowhead formation, the Ambassador on point and Noble Team bringing up the rear. They entered the small, spherical glass balcony, looking down into the packed plaza below. A huge screen on the window above the balcony displayed the procession to the waiting crowd.
“Citizens of Filstia Prime! I am Ambassador Solaris, from the human world of Earth, here to welcome your system to the Republic!”
Loud cheering broke through the sound-proof bubble, the sheer volume shaking the glass. Solaris raised her hands, quieting the crowd below.
“Over thirteen million cycles ago, a brilliant race of bipedal insectoids looked to the stars. They searched with their eyes and there technology for another sign of life. They called out, they asked the darkness for some glimmer, something to tell them they weren’t alone. They received no answer; only echoes of their own unanswered questions. They left their home, hoping to run into others. They found only primitive life, mammals, fish, birds, reptiles. Not a single intelligent lifeform. They spread across the cosmos, filling the galaxy with their mighty empire, but they were alone. They felt their existence was empty. However, did they sit down and give up? Did they decide ‘oh well?’ NO! They set their scientist on research, planting the seeds of intelligence into the genetic code of thousands of planets. They left reminders of themselves, monoliths, unexplained landmarks, and sometimes even ruins of cities. They withdrew from the planets they seeded, allowing them to expand on their own. Their mighty empire shrunk, slowly petering out. Today, no one knows what happened to these precursors. These forerunners. They disappeared from history the galaxy only remembering the artifacts they left behind. Their legacy lives on, however, with the mighty Republic! We who speak their ancient language, who use their blueprints and technology to advance our own!”
She stopped, allowing the crowd below to run wild for a moment.
“Only a short time ago, my planet was once like yours. Four thousand cycles ago, we were a lost race. We still felt that digital watches were a neat idea. We too turned to the stars, hoping for answers. We sent out signals and probes, hoping to mingle our culture with any we may have found. Unfortunately, we were not as lucky as you. We were found first by the Imperious. They attempted to wipe out our entire planet, using their superior technology to decimate our population. However, they did not expect the harsh retaliation we gave them. Our planet fought off the invaders, even though over two thirds of our once seven-billion-strong population was deceased. We sent out a signal, begging for help. We, unlike the insectoid forerunners, received a reply. Down from the skies descended the Republic fleet, finally throwing off the last of the invaders. Our world, Earth, newly liberated and united, joined the Republic, rising to become prominent members on the councils. Our tenacity allowed us to be here today to welcome you, the new generation of the Republic.
“Many of you may wonder why I have given you the history of my world. It is because we are proof that a people can achieve much, even when dwarfed by the amount of other races out there. Use our story; be inspired by it! Your race can become a huge asset to the Republic!”
The cheering drowned out the next few words of the Ambassador, before she finally silenced them. For the next few hours, the speech rode on, finally reaching a crescendo and then concluding.
Only one Imperious spy was ever found, but he was quickly tagged by Chekov and dragged to the extraction point by Jackson. When the speech was concluded, the Ambassador was escorted to the extraction point as well, before everyone boarded the small transport ship and taken to the orbiting cruiser.
The mission debriefing was very short, ending with Intel’s retrieval of the upgrade cubes. Noble Team left for their quarters, finally stripping off their exosuits and falling into their bunks. There was little chit-chat, instead just four large humans crashing into the bunks.
Less than three hours later, they were woken up by a knock on their bulkhead door. Each of them woke up instantly, checking the identity of the knocker with a video feed before opening the door to the black-suited Intel officer. A small datapad found it’s way into Shephard’s hand, before the officer disappeared back into the bowels of the ship.
“What’s all that about?” asked Jackson, his dark skin visible now that the armor was off.
“We got another mission. Delta Quadrant. Skorpus System. Oh, you’re gonna love this. We get our own Racer-Class. Always wanted one of them. Apparently, we’ll get more mission data when we enter the system,” Shephard replied.
“Great. Another blind mission. If we enter the system and we are under fire immediately, I want to go rouge,” Said Carter, pulling out his energy sword, inspecting the keen edge.
“You should know better than to joke about things like that,” Said Chekov, cleaning his custom scope. “They might take you seriously.”
“Who said I was joking?” Carter deadpanned, before ruining the whole effect by laughing.
“Stow the chatter guys. Turns out we leave ASAP. It says to stay in armor for the trip, so we know this will be a hot landing. Let’s suit up and go,” Shephard said, pulling on the armored boots. The rest of the team proceeded to follow his example, placing first the boots, then the inner skeleton of the armor, and finally the armored plates themselves. They grabbed their weapons, each with their standard MG34’s, plus their weapons of specialty.
Chekov had a SR57 Mark XVI, a large sniper rifle with a custom-tooled scope that could get an accurate shot in at least three miles. His personal record was a pea-sized bullseye at a range of ten miles. He was the best sniper in the fleet.
Jackson had a GL89 Mark II Grenade Launcher, capable of throwing any hand-toss grenade over five hundred feet. It’s usual ammo, however, were SMART impact grenade rounds, which could be fired like a normal bullet, speeding straight towards a target, or by launching in an arc like a regular grenade.
Carter had the standard-issue HP42 Pistol, his specialty being strapped to his back. He also had a collection of small knives covering his armor, albeit hidden unless one knew where to look. Each knife was perfectly balanced, and could be thrown at least 50 feet without losing accuracy.
Shephard kept an heirloom plasma revolver from his great-grandfather, having been handcrafted with an expert precision. It’s molded grip fit perfectly into his armored hand, and even more easily into his normal one. The history behind the gun ran deep in his family, and had saved his and his team’s life on many missions.
“Alright, move out. We’re off to Hanger B,” Shephard said when his team was fully armored. They left their quarters, jogging off through the corridors towards the hanger. They passed quite a few regular troopers, their lightly armored bodies seeming to be a frail comparison to the armored team. Only one branch of the military had the exo-suits, save, of course, for the few exceptions made for aquatic-based and non-oxygen breathing races that join the republic. The Armor Corps maintained the smallest standing force, and also the most split. It was rare for there to be more than one Armored team in a system at any one time, even during invasions. They were considered the elite, and treated with a mix of fear and respect by the regular troops.
After running through countless hallways, noble team reached Hangar B. They walked in, Shephard whistling as his eyes fell upon the beautiful ship placed gracefully in the hangar. It was sleek and black; it’s near frictionless surface allowing for ease of travel in atmosphere and out. It was a long, tapering conical structure, with two arcing wings on either side.
The team entered the ship, looking as the interior came into view. No expense had been spared, the ship containing weapon lockers packed to the brim with ammo, food storage with enough to last several months, even a large holodeck style gaming system for entertainment.
“Damn, this is better than I expected. This looks as if a rich brat decided to buy this, only to pass it on to us. I wonder how she flies,” Jackson said, immediately moving over to sit in the reinforced chairs that had been recently installed. He pulled out a cord from the holodeck system, before plugging it into his suit’s access port and jumping into a game.
“WOAH. This has EVERYTHING! Even. Oh. Don’t tell me that’s…” He continued, oblivious to his team’s mirth in the background. He was focused on one icon on his screen, a small, furred face with a long, conical muzzle and perked up ears. Embedded around the orange and white furred face was a communication device, a green eyepiece covering one of the eyes. An unmistakable ship design was visible in the background. “I haven’t seen this game since I was a child! It’s the only surviving game from before the Imperious attack on Earth! It’s Starfox sixty-four! They even have the original dialogue as an option. Wish I could read and understand Ancient English. Ah well, the translation is just as good.”
“Why would you want to read the original? English is such a pain. I remember having to struggle through a class on Ancient literature. I mean seriously. It brought new meaning to the phrase ‘It’s all English to me,’” Chekov said, shaking his head.
“Well, ever heard of the ‘Contrid Slavers?’ That game could only really be played if you knew Cornitridian. I mean seriously, what does ‘All your slave are belong to us’ even mean?”
The rest of the team rolled their eyes, continuing to explore the different areas. There were four separate rooms, each with positions for their armor and weapons. A small exercise bay was also installed, four body machines bolted to the floor. An escape pod bay was across from it; a large Hover-Class Escape Pod sat inside, big enough for the team, their armor, and half the gear on the ship. Finally, they reached the cockpit, an impressive affair of flashing buttons and blank screens.
“Alright team, we’re lifting off in 5. Get ready,” Said Shephard, performing the preliminary flight tests. He contacted Command, requesting permission to leave, before finally lifting the ship up off the ground. The inertial dampeners were so good that no one inside felt a thing, and Shephard would have called in a malfunction if he had not seen the hangar roof get closer through the viewplate. He swung the ship around, shooting through the now-open hangar doors. His viewplate was filled with the black emptiness of space, before showing a sliver of the planet’s moon. Behind him, Carter walked up, asking a question.
“Hey, didn’t you say we were lifting off in—Oh,” He began, stopping when he saw the viewplate.
“Yup. This baby has everything. I’ve never seen dampeners so advanced,” Shephard said, reclining in the pilot’s chair. He slowly entered the coordinates of the system, allowing the computer to engage the intra-dimensional shielding and engines. The viewplate went opaque, so as to save the pilots from the insanity that is commonly found when gazing into hyperspace. The smallest of forward shifts indicated the release into the other dimension.
“Listen up, boys, we’ve entered hyperspace and have a good long trip ahead of us. We’ll be there in three days. Enjoy yourselves,” Shephard said over the comm. He proceeded to flick on the security and autopilot systems, leaving the cockpit and returning to the central cabin. Jackson was still connected to the holodeck device, and Chekov had joined in too. Carter was sharpening one of his many knives, using a small energy stone to hone the blade with microscopic precision.
“Yo Brain, you have gotta try this. This must be one of the newest versions, I mean it’s almost as if I’m actually in the game. I haven’t had this much fun since before boot camp,” Chekov said.
“Alright, but Blade, you’re in too. That’s an order,” Carter sighed, sliding the knife into its appropriate sheath, before waltzing over and plugging in with Shephard.
For the next few hours, Noble team lost themselves in the games. The virtual effects inside their suits were extremely realistic, even more so than the specially designed holodeck suits that normal, un-Armored people used. They probably would have continued their play if not for a cool, computerized female voice interrupting their play.
“Warning: Large Dimensional Ion Storm Detected. Recommend Leaving Holodeck System and Assuming Emergency Posi-“ A small surge cut off the computer and flickered the virtual reality the team was in. Immediately, they pulled the cords out of their helmets, jumping to their specific stations. Shephard ran towards the cockpit, his heavy metallic body making huge thumps as he went.
He entered the cockpit, slamming into the pilot seat. He pulled down a dimensional filter screen, peering through into the red scape that was hyperspace. The small pocket dimension they had created around the ship shimmered and shook as the raging mass of exotic ionic particles seething just outside of it. A huge blast of lightning-like energy rammed through the shielding, striking the hull of the ship, followed by a huge roll as the forces at work overpowered the inertial dampeners.
Acting quickly, Shephard accelerated the engines, hoping that the storm was a localized dimensional anomaly, and would not be one of the gigantic ones that sometimes raged across hyperspace. However, his luck was not that good, as he just succeeded in stirring up more energy bolts, which shot around and into the ship.
“All hands, prepare for emergency dimensional departure. I don’t know where we are, but we’re going to find out real soon,” Shephard said over the comms, hoping that Jackson had reached the engine room. Exiting hyperspace was a standard procedure, but it had to be done slowly to avoid the risk of a dimensional backlash. An emergency exit was one of the most dangerous maneuvers in the known galaxy, the easiest and best-case failure scenario being instantly vaporized. The worst case, well, the ancient humans had come up with a close description, although they thought that Lovecraft had just made up his monsters.
Shephard engaged the emergency exit procedure, punching a hole through the protective plexi-glass shield in front of the button. A shudder ran through the ship, followed by a huge leap of forward momentum. A few crashes indicated that at least two of his teammates were unprepared, and were thrown backwards. A white field encased the nose of the ship, dragging itself quickly through the rest of it, bow to stern. It looked similar to the scanning mechanisms used by some of the stellar species in the Republic.
Just before the ship fully exited, one last beam of exotic particles, supercharged with their ionic counterparts slammed into the stern of the ship, causing a massive explosion to the de-shielding metal ship.
“FUCK! Engine room is leaking atmosphere. Sir, the blockhead’s jammed. The whole ship is decompressing,” Boomer yelled over the comm., snapping Shephard into action.
“Abandon Ship. Repeat, Abandon Ship. Grab what you can and meet at the escape pod. We leave ASAP,” He yelled, barely acknowledging the affirmations of his team. He ran towards the escape pod, stopping to grab a few extra ration and ammo packs. He proceeded to jump into the pod, stationing himself at the pilot’s seat.
He was there for maybe thirty seconds before the rest of his team arrived, following his example and jumping into the pod. Each of them had grabbed similar supplies to Shephard, although Jackson had managed to snag a few of the more powerful explosives that had been locked into a safe by a passcode that only Shephard knew. Pushing aside his curiosity, Shephard slammed down the hatch, and pressed the launch button. A huge blast of fire threw the small craft out of the derelict, decompressed ship. A few explosions followed their escape, although the outside of the nearly-invisible ship seemed fine.
“Shit. There goes our mission. So, what now? Any planets around?” Chekov said, trying to break the tension in the pod.
“Yeah, it’s the big, blue-green ball floating directly behind your head. From the scans it supports life, and energy scans show it is literally bursting with tech. Hopefully, they’re Republic, or at least friendly. I think the scanners messed up though, it keeps telling me that the star in this system cannot exist. Eh, we’ll check it out when we get there,” Shephard replied, scratching his helmet. He turned the pod towards the indicated planet, using the inertial engines to speed them forward.
However, Murphy seemed to favor them, as the ship began to change trajectory, contrary to Shephard’s controls and every possible law of physics.
“Shit, what the hell’s going on? My controls aren’t responding. How is this even possible? We’re accelerating, Shit, hitting atmosphere now,” He said, forcing himself to fall back onto instinct rather than panic. The nose of the ship began to burn up, followed by quite a few other meteors. For some reason, they flashed different colors, some red, some blue, some purple, even a few pinks.
“What the hell did I eat? Meteors don’t do that! Come on, Come on!” Shephard continued, oblivious to his team’s reactions. The planet below seemed to be getting closer and closer, a large green forest being visible past red glow that encased the ship.
“Landing procedure failing. Emergency engines offline. Computer not responding. Flaps offline. Shit. Comm array down. Emergency beacon offline. We’re going down. It’s been a pleasure serving with you,” Shephard said, watching as the ground got closer.
“You too, Colonel. See you on the other side,” Replied Jackson.
“Brace for Impact!” Shephard said.
A loud crash was the last thing the team heard, before their respective consciousnesses was encased in darkness.
“Hurry up, Spike!” Twilight said, her head turning back towards her assistant, “Now that we have Owlowiscious, you can finally stay up to watch the meteors!”
“Then why… *pant* am I *pant* having to drag the *pant* picnic supplies?” Her assistant huffed.
“We’re here, Spike!” Twilight said again as her number-one assistant flopped to the ground, breathing heavily. “Can you set up the picnic while I get the telescope?”
A thumbs-up from the face-down dragon was enough for Twilight, who grabbed the telescope in her magic and set its tripod base on the ground. She placed the telescope in it and then began to fiddle with multiple knobs and wheels over the whole contraption.
Spike finally picked himself up, before pulling out the picnic blanket, setting out the plates, placing the basket in the center. He then uncovered the punchbowl and set it upon the underside of the now flipped wagon like a makeshift table.
“All ready!” Spike said to Twilight.
“I can’t wait for the shower. I heard from Celestia that Luna planned to do something special for this one!” Twilight said excitedly, “I even brought out my prototype telescope! It should be able to take pictures of the meteors! Have I told you the specifications yet? I mean, I have the 550p camera hook—“
Spike ignored Twilight, having heard this exact same speech at least three times. Instead, he took to scanning the small meadow to see who is going to show up. Twilight had decided to pick a new spot, on a rather high hill, just for her and her friends. Down in the meadow leading up to the hill, a small white shape was visible, walking with a pale yellow one. They were too far away to make out any real features, but Spike knew who they were.
After a half an hour, the rest of her friends had arrived. They sat talking and laughing, partaking of Spike’s delicious cookies and punch. Pinkie had brought a series of cupcakes, the unique, award-winning flavor practically making the mares mouthgasm.
Finally, the moon sank below the horizon, allowing the full beauty of the stars to shine through.
“Almost time, girls. Celestia said it would start just after moonset!” Twilight babbled excitedly.
The chatter died down into an expectant silence, each pony, and the dragon, turning their heads towards the sky. The silence stretched, the excited faces of the ponies beginning to droop.
“Twilight, was this, umm, was this the right night?” Fluttershy said, her voice wavering and then all but disappearing.
“What was the Fluttershy? Did you say something?” Twilight said, turning her head away for an instant. At which point a huge burst of red made her whip her head around. A huge, red ‘A’ was in the sky, followed by another series of letters almost too fast to catch, each with their own color. Altogether, they spelled out, ‘A GRAND DISPLAY’.
Twilight set her telescope to the correct position, cursing herself for forgetting to turn the camera on. However, soon the telescope was recording the brilliant display. Meteors rained down in brilliant flashes of color, the crisscrossing patterns showing brilliant scenes of splendor. The banishing of Nightmare Moon, the ‘Stoning’ of Discord, and then a grand finale of a battle between Six fairies that looked a lot like the friend’s cutie marks, and a huge creature.
How the princess had been able to make it was lost on the group, their thoughts completely entranced by the dancing lights above them. Then, the six fairies grew very close together, and a huge, flaming, red streak cut through, smashing through the gigantic beast of meteors. It was a brilliant finale, electing cheers from the six ponies loud enough to wake the sleeping baby dragon curled up on the grass. In their jubilation, most of them missed the thud that echoed out from the nearby Everfree forest. However, one purple unicorn felt it through the ground.
“I wonder what that was,” Twilight murmured, cleaning up the small picnic, “Ah well, I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Unbeknownst to her, three little fillies were making that same promise to themselves, before falling asleep in a pile on their clubhouse floor.
________________________________________________________________________
“Applebloom, what brings you near? Are those your friends whom you’ve brought here?” Came the deep voice of Zecora, Ponyville’s resident Zebrican potion-maker.
“Well, Zecora, we’d stayed up last night and we saw a huge mert- met- mot- meteor, that’s right, land here in the Everfree! We were hoping that you could lead us there, we want to get our Meteorologist? Cutie marks!” The excited filly shouted, while her friends nodded encouragingly.
“I would love to help, but remember this: would it be you that your parents will miss?” Zecora said.
“Huh?” The three fillies said in unison.
“What I mean is, before your mission, did you seek your parent’s permission?”
“OHHHHHH…” The three fillies said.
“Well, not exactly, but come on! Let’s go find it before some creature gets to it. Or maybe we’ll have to fight one off and get monster-fighting cutie marks!” Scootaloo shouted, pulling along the Zebra.
“Wait young filly, why such a rush? It’s not so bad as to make such a fuss.”
The three fillies ignored Zecora, however, preferring to pull her along with them.
________________________________________________________________________
Shephard woke slowly, shaking his head. He ran a quick diagnostic, showing that the armor, while dented and damaged, was still mostly operable and airtight. He changed to an external video feed, which succeeded in blinding him with white static. He closed his eyes and waited for the suit to choose a working visual sensor array.
Finally, he could look around, and saw that he was still with his squad in the escape pod. The pod itself was half-buried in dirt, a large crater surrounding it, presumably made when the pod crashed.
“Squad, you awake?” Shephard said, coughing as blood rushed down his throat.
“Ugghhh… I am now, boss. Was there any need to shout? Man, what did we drink last night?” Jackson said, his deep voice booming over the mic.
“Can you two keep it down?” Carter asked irritably, “I’m trying to sleep.”
“Five more minutes…” Chekov mumbled into the mic.
“Guys, we crashed, remember? We need to pop the top and get some Intel as to where we are. Blade, can you try to splice together the pod’s controls, see if we can’t get better sensors, or at least access to its database, if it’s still intact?” Shephard said.
“Sure thing, Brian,” Carter replied.
“Boomer, pop the top. We need to set up a perimeter. Chekov, do an inventory of our equipment. I need to know what we have.”
“Yes, sir,” The two indicated soldiers replied.
Soon, the squad was out of the pod, performing their respective tasks. Carter was working on the pod, leaning down under the dashboard and mixing wires. Boomer was patrolling with a handheld scanner. Chekov had removed everything from the pod and stacked them in an orderly pile, each and everything labeled. Shephard was working on an Emergency Comm. beacon, which should have launched when the pod jettisoned.
“Fuck. Seems something zapped our E-comm. We won’t be phoning home anytime soon.” Shephard said to the squad.
“Looks like the pod was sabotaged too, boss.” Carter said from under the dashboard. “Either that, or we burned up more than we should’ve in the crash. I can only get a few sensor arrays online, and those that are are on the fritz. The datacube’s mostly intact, however. It’s just getting to it is the problem.”
“Well, we can always cut it out and plug it in directly, right?” Chekov spoke up from beneath the load he was carrying.
“It’s not as simple as that. You see, the surrounding core was damaged, and only diagnostics have access. I would need to splice that off and… You know what, now that I think about it, that’s actually a good idea. Besides, it’s probably the only thing worth keeping in this junk-pile of an escape pod.”
“Guys, something’s up with the scanner. I’ve tried diagnostics and everything seems fine, but it keeps telling me that everything here has its own energy signature. It’s as if the whole place is made of tech. Hell, even the microorganisms in the air have it.” Jackson said suddenly, looking up from his handheld device.
“Mine says it too. It’s almost as if…”
“Movement! Unknown species or intent.” Jackson interrupted, raising his gun in the direction. The other squad members did the same.
The sound of voices met them, although the language was unknown to the group. Although something about it stirred in the back of Shephard’s mind, as if he had heard it long ago. He ignored that sentimental thought, instead focusing on his team’s safety.
“Weapons tight. Engage Cloaks. We don’t want to anger the locals, at least until we know their true tech level.” Shephard ordered his team. They responded instantly, each one dissolving from view.
Only to reappear a moment later in showers of sparks.
“Sir, Cloaks are down. Must have been damaged in the crash.” Chekov spoke up.
“You don’t say.” Carter replied sarcastically.
“The diagnostics should have shown that though. Must’ve been that damnable experimentals that Intel made us use. How close are the targets?”
“Fifteen metros* and counting.” Boomer said.
“Alright, let’s play diplomats!” Shephard said.
________________________________________________________________________
“Come on Zecora! We’re almost there!” Scootaloo almost shouted.
“Wait up Scootaloo!” Sweetie Belle whined, attempting to catch up to the group.
“Come on, you’re so slowww!!!” Scootaloo replied.
“Fillies, please, I must…” Zecora started.
“Girls, I think we’re there. Look!” She pointed a hoof at the mound of fresh dirt in front of them.
“Come on! We should totally… Woah.” Scootaloo began, stopping with an air of wonderment.
“What are those things?” Applebloom said.
Sweetie Belle just sat there in silence, amazed at the sight before them. In the crater, a large conical object stood, with a stack of boxes and other strange objects next to it. Standing around the thing were four strange metal statues, looking almost like metal insects. Their eyes glowed blue, and their carapace was mostly black, with dark red streaks accenting the overall appearance.
Zecora, who had been attempting to stop the fillies, took advantage of the sudden silence and began to talk as she ascended the small dirt hill.
“”Fillies, please, we should go home. I have a feeling we are not…” She trailed off as her eyes fell into the clearing. “…alone.” She added as a whisper.
________________________________________________________________________
“Sir, the targets are approaching the crater’s edge. What should we do?” Jackson said over the mic.
“Stand absolutely still. The Cloak’s not working so our best bet is to wait and see. If they are technologically advanced, they’ll recognize the armor for what it is, or at least they should. If not, they’ll probably think we’re some sort of statue. Hopefully, they’re not hostile.” Shephard responding, his eyes darting back and forth across the visual link displayed on his HUD.
As he was talking, three small creatures appeared over the edge of the crater. They were quadrupedal and covered with fur. Each also had a tail and a large splotch of hair on the tops of their heads. The cranial structure itself was vaguely triangular, with large eyes and small mouths. They also had two slits above their mouths, presumably nostrils.
The orange one, who had been saying something, stopped in its speech, slowly taking in the crater. It had a purple tail and head hair, and what appeared to be vestigial wing-like structures on either side.
Another one said something, this one with a yellow coat and reddish hair. A third one, white with purple-pink hair, also stood, its mouth hanging open. It also had some sort of pointed protrusion in the middle of its forehead.
Then a fourth one, which had also been saying something in a rather deep, melodic voice, stepped forward over the ridge. It was at least three times the size of the other three, and it had alternating stripes of black and white going through both its coat and hair. Its neck was covered in gold rings, with a few in its ear-like structures and one on it’s right foreleg.
“Well, this ain’t the strangest species we’ve seen. Heck, they’re positively cute compared to the Gliserax.” Jackson said over the radio, being careful to keep himself still.
“I know what you mean,” Carter replied, “I wonder if they’re one of those tri-gender races. It would explain the structures on the orange one’s back and the white one’s forehead, and the lack thereof on the striped one and yellow one.”
“I wonder if that striped one is the parental unit of the other three, it would explain the larger size.” Chekov said.
“We can probably find out, if you’d turn your translators on!” Shephard said angrily as the four creatures in front of him began to babble in their strange language.
“Uhh, sir, this may be a bad time, but the translator matrix was in the pod. Near the nose. Where it burnt and was subsequently crushed.” Carter said, speaking slowly.
“Great. Back to square one. Maybe we can—“ Shephard began, before getting cut off by Chekov.
“Sir, one of them is approaching me. It’s getting closer. What should I do?”
“Hold your ground.”
“Sir, it’s going to touch me. Holy crap, it’s got enough power in it that even my suit is saying something’s wrong.” Chekov said as the white one reached out to place its right foreleg on his boot. He panicked, taking a hasty step back. The effect was instantaneous.
________________________________________________________________________
“Well I’ll be. Maybe they’re aliens!” Applebloom said suddenly, turning to her friends.
“Aliens, no way!” Sweetie Belle replied after breaking out of her stupor.
“Yeah, look at them. They aren’t moving. They’re probably just statues.” Scootaloo said, disappointed.
“Yeah, but then why would their eyes glow?” Apple bloom countered.
“Maybe it’s an ancient enchantment. It has to be!” Sweetie Belle shouted. “I mean look, they can’t be alive, they’d be moaning on the ground. Half their eyes are smashed in, look. That one has two glowing, when it should have, uhhh….. one two three four…” She counted quickly under her breath, pawing the ground to keep count. “Six. They each should have six glowing eyes. And look at their bent antennae and smashed legs. They have to be old statues!”
“Omygosh you’re right! Maybe that thingy behind them leads to some ancient ruin full of treasure and booby traps!” Scootaloo replied, “It’ll just be like Daring Doo!”
“I dare ya to touch one!” Applebloom said suddenly Sweetie Belle.
“Yeah, you’re not scared, right Sweetie Belle?” Scootaloo said, leaning in.
“Nah, they’re only statues. I got this!” She said, walking over to the closet statue.
Suddenly, Zecora snapped out of her state of surprise, calling Sweetie Belle back.
“No, Sweetie Belle, touch not the statue. We don’t know the wrath that may be aimed at you!”
However, Sweetie Belle ignored Zecora, reaching a hoof forward to touch the hoof of the thing, only for it to pull away from her.
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” She screamed, running back over the small hill, followed closely by Zecora and the other Crusaders.
________________________________________________________________________
“Good job, Scope, we’ll probably have the whole tribe of these things against us.” Jackson said, facepalming
“They’re hiding just on the other side of the ridge. They’re probably still curious. I wonder if they speak or understand Common.” Shephard said, eyeing the minimap-like sensor ring he had set up on his HUD after activating his hand-held sensor.
“Sir, I’ve got another visual on them. They’re back on the ridge, eyeing us.” Carter said suddenly.
“Got it. I’m going to try something.” He looked over towards the dots on his HUD, walking forward slowly with his hands up, before kneeling down. He turned on the external speakers, before speaking really slowly towards the semi-cowering creatures.
“WE… COME… IN… PEACE…”
Zecora stood with the frozen fillies, watching as the massive figure walked over towards them. It knelt down, it’s few remaining eyes piercing through the black contrast of it’s head. It reached up with its forelimb, raising its strange hoof-like thing up before gesturing slowly to come nearer. Suddenly, a loud clicking, grating noise filled the air, three times, sounding ever so different each time. For the longest time it sat there, staring at them, while they stared back, eyes wide with fear.
“Miss Zecora, what is that thing?!?!?!” Sweetie Belle asked, her quavering voice barely reaching the other fearful fillies.
“Child, I’m afraid I do not know, not even if it is friend or foe.” Zecora replied, not moving her eyes from the creature in front of her. Movement from behind the kneeling thing brought up their attention, as the other three figures began to move about the clearing. One of them ducked into the strange metal contraption behind them. Suddenly a loud sound echoed out from the metal thing, followed by the reappearance of the figure, holding a glowing blue cube in his hand.
________________________________________________________________________
“Sir…” Carter said, his voice breaking over Shephard’s radio, “I don’t think they can understand us.” He had noticed the looks of obvious fear on the faces of the newly discovered species.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Shephard replied, using an Old Earth insult that had survived.
“Can we skip the language barrier and just grab the database?” Jackson said, still looking at the colorful aliens. “It would have the plans for another matrix in it.”
The aliens began to talk again, the guttural sounds becoming increasingly more familiar, as if they had heard the language before and half-learned it.
“Yes, go ahead. Carter, get that damn datacube out.” Shephard said, keeping his eyes on the aliens.
“Yes, Sir.” Said Carter, following his orders.
“Sir, their language,” Chekov spoke up, “I swear I’ve heard it before. I just can’t remember….”
A blowtorch was lit inside the pod, followed by the sound of rending metal and a few sparks.
“I got the cube, sir!” Carter explained, jumping out of the pod and holding it up for all to see.
“Good. See if we can’t interface it with our suits systems. In the meantime—“ Shephard said, before being interrupted.
“SIR!” Jackson said, “More movement, coming in hard and fast from the 6 O’clock position.” How a number and a clock had anything to do with direction was lost on all of them, even when they learned it, but they still understood it was an attack from the rear. “I’m counting at least a dozen unknowns, but they have different signatures than theses aliens. Fifty metros away and closing fast.”
“Alright. Chekov, Jackson, watch the rear, wait to see if they are friendly. Weapons tight unless they initiate hostilities. You know the drill.” Shephard said, “Carter, continue work on the datacube.”
A series of ‘Sir, yes, Sir’s echoed through the comms. Each man proceeded to initiate his specific task. Shephard continued to look at the aliens, gauging their reaction.
“Twenty-five metros and closing.”
“Ten metros and closing”
Shephard continued to eye the aliens, when suddenly they cried out in fear, their noses twitching.
“Assume possible hostiles. Weapons tight, previous order still stands.” Shephard ordered, “Carter, stop what your doing and face the possible threat. Let’s see what we got.” They all moved into an angle formation, facing the incoming movement.
________________________________________________________________________
Zecora and the fillies stood there, wondering what was going on. She watched as two of the creatures turned and stood in the opposite direction, what she assumed was their backs to them. In their claws they held some thin metallic rectangles, with a small protrusion at their top. A few holes and other various odds and ends covered the identical things. Zecora wondered if it was some sort of ceremonial objects.
For a few more tense seconds, nothing happened. Then a smell they all feared reached their noses.
“TIMBERWOLVES!” Applebloom shouted, running behind Zecora, followed shortly by the other crusaders. Zecora, for her part, stood her ground, knowing that the wolves would be wary of one who stood in the face of them. To her surprise, the rest of the creatures in front of her turned and faced the direction the smell was coming from, each with one of the rectangle things in their claws.
The howls of the wolves echoed through the forest, the huge wooden beasts suddenly jumping over the crater. However, they seemed surprised by the creatures, some of them just crashing into them. A huge pack was there, headed by a massive wolf, larger than even Celestia. Yet still the creatures were taller.
After a tense moment where the two groups eyed each other, the Timberwolves lunged.
________________________________________________________________________
“Grr… Sir, these things are leaping over the crater. They’re rather heavy too! It’s almost like they don’t know we’re here!” Carter said, grunting as another large wooden animal ran into him, before it backed off.
“Hold your ground and keep those weapons tight. No hostilities yet.” Shephard said, holding out his arm towards Chekov, who had raised the gun up. Then a much larger creature reared its ugly mug over the crater rim.
“Damn, look at the size of that thing!” Jackson said, whistling. Then it lunged.
“OH FUCK!” Chekov yelled, finding a giant wooden monstrosity upon him. He was nocked to the ground, the fanged thing trying to bite his head off. The rest of the wooden things followed, two or three ganging up on the rest of the squad.
“Weapons Free! Hostilities engaged!” Shephard yelled as he was brought to the ground. His rifle was sent flying, forcing him to draw his revolver. He shot the stomach of the creature in front of him, the hot plasma eating through the wooden beast like a hot knife through butter.
The animal howled, before collapsing into a pile of burning sticks.
“The fuck?” Shephard said, before her was beset upon by another volley of wolves. Carter had also lost his rifle, this time opting to chop through the wooden menaces with his sword. “Carter, save the energy, just use your sidearm or use it uncharged!” Shephard yelled, noticing this.
“You never let me have any fun.” Carte fake pouted, before sliding his sword back unto his back and pulling out his sidearm.
During this exchange, Chekov had begun to roll around on the ground, wrestling with the gigantic wooden monster. Every time he reached moved to point his rifle at the thing, it pinned him. Yet at the same time, it couldn’t bite or claw at Chekov, his armor doing its job.
Chekov finally got on top of the beast, using his arms to smash into the creatures head, eventually leaving nothing but a pile of wooden rubble.
Jackson, unable to use any explosives due to his proximity to his teammates, just smashed through the wolves, using his grenade launcher as a club. Pretty soon, nothing was left but splintered wood, some of them on fire from the plasma bolts released from the two sidearms.
“Well, that was… new. Never been attacked by a forest before.” Carter said, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. He grabbed his and Shephard’s rifle, tossing one to his commander.
“Yup.” Shephard replied, curt and informal. Then his suit issued a proximity warning, and he looked down only to find the orange and purple alien attached to his leg, almost in a hug.
“Looks like you made a friend, Brain!” Chekov laughed.
“Huh… It’s trying to tell me something.” Shephard replied, ignoring the jibe. The orange quadruped was attempting to pull on his leg, gesturing with its other foreleg towards the edge of the crater. “I think it wants me to follow it. You guys, pack up the gear, lets spread it out evenly. Also, mark this LZ, and keep a map up. Hopefully we can return to salvage what we can. I want to find the rest of these things.”
“Yes… sir.” Carter said, moving over to the gear pile and picking up what boxes he could. He snapped them onto Shephard’s back, before doing the same with the rest. The uniform military cargo containers snapped easily onto the corresponding grooves on their backs, enabling them to carry everything salvageable from their cargo.
“Let’s move out.” Shephard said when everyone was ready, stopping the excited burbling of the alien beneath him. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that he had heard the language before.
________________________________________________________________________
“Come on you big lug, MOVE!!!” Scootaloo said, putting her back into attempting to pull the awesome insect along with her. It was a pointless endeavor, but the thing was too awesome to leave behind. She completely ignored Zecora, who was trying to get the orange filly away from the dangerous creatures.
Then the thing began to walk, after a few boxes were attached to it’s back. “Woah…”
“Fillies, do you think this wise, taking these things into our lives?” Zecora said, understanding the danger that the things could pose to the town.
“But Zecora, they saved those lives!” Applebloom whined.
“Besides, Rainbow Dash will think it’s soooooooo cool that I found these things!” Scootaloo said, before adding: “I meant we found,” at the looks of her friends.
Zecora knew she had to get the fillies out of the forest, and while it was true that the things had saved their lives from the timberwolves, she was still hesitant to take them to Ponyville. However, her mind was made up as the fillies suddenly ran off, followed closely behind by the surprisingly fast metal things.
“Fillies, Fillies!” Zecora shouted, “wait for me… PLEASE!”
________________________________________________________________________
“Whoah, did you see them take off?” Carter said, watching the blur of the three aliens. “Sir, are we following?”
“As long as we got this place marked, might as well. Besides, I have a funny feeling about the language of these things…” Shephard replied, before following the three small aliens at a steady jog. A shout broke through the external audio feeds, before the black-and-white alien took off following them. It, too, had a fantastic speed, soon catching up to the jogging group.
After about fifteen minutes of the trek, the forest thinned out, before completely ending in a large meadow. A small cottage was in front of them, with a bridge leading over a small stream. In the center of the meadow, a large town was spread out, its colorful architecture stirring something else in his mind, doing more to confirm his theory. In the distance, a mountain was visible with a large structure clinging to the side.
“Sir, looks like we found a town.” Chekov said.
“You don’t say.” Jackson replied, beating Shephard to the punch.
Ignoring the jibe, Chekov continued. “I can see lot’s of movement, probably two hundred of them in there. We should be careful, the energy signatures I’m seeing are almost off the charts. And the strangest thing is, my equipment won’t tell me exactly what type of EM it is, or on which end of the spectrum. All it can say is that it is non-visible, harmless radiation. It’s closest to electricity, yet…. I can’t explain it. “
“Forget it. It looks like our ‘guides’ don’t know where to go.” Shephard said.
It was true. The three small aliens were pulling in three separate directions, one pointing towards the center of the town, another at a point to the right and the other to the left. They seemed to be arguing and pulling each other. It wasn’t until the black and white one slammed its foreleg down in between them that they stopped, before lowing their heads and tails and walking towards the center of town.
The early morning light fell upon the simplistic town, the bright sunlight lending it a golden hue. The four soldiers couldn’t help but to appreciate the sight. Of course, this couldn’t last.
________________________________________________________________________
After ending the fillies’ argument over where to take their ‘friends,’ Zecora began to lead them towards the library. Though she rarely visited the town, she knew that Twilight would be the best pony for discovering what these things were. Plus, she wanted to get back to her home and sleep some more, the fillies having woken her up just after the break of dawn.
Traveling through the empty town gave Zecora a few bad memories, thinking back to all those months she spent just trying to buy basic supplies, forced to be in solitude until Applebloom actually decided to help her. It was such a nice experience, actually talking to a friendly face.
Of course, it was a beautiful morning, which Zecora could appreciate, even the birds were singing in a wonderful chorus. They reached the center of town, walking past the Town Hall, everything silent. Zecora probably should have foreseen what would happen.
________________________________________________________________________
Time Turner woke up, hearing the last drops of sand fall out of the hourglass on his nightstand. The clockmaker dragged himself out of bed, flipping another hourglass, one of many such hourglasses in his home. Although not truly hourglasses, measuring everywhere from eight hours to five minutes, he still preferred to call them such. He trotted into his bathroom, pulling out a toothbrush and completing the morning ritual of scrubbing his pristine white teeth.
He finished his other morning ceremonies, before waltzing down the steps and into his workshop. Here, the gutted remains of broken clocks lay about, surrounding half-finished and partially dismantled timepieces of all sizes and shapes. In the corner, a large collection of specialty clocks stood, even one with eight hands instead of the normal three, and no numbers along the edge, instead destinations and actions. Why he even made it was beyond him, but Turner pushed the thoughts away.
He sat down for a moment, his workpony’s stool wiggling under his haunches. He started to work on another clock when he heard a small bell alarm. He turned towards the offending clock, before realizing what it signified. That clock was one of his special projects, a clock to replace a calendar. It had been set to remind him of today. The day that he would hopefully remember for the rest of his life.
You see, Time Turner’s friends had set him up with a not-so-blind date with Ponyville’s resident mailmare, Ditzy Doo. He had always liked the young mare, though he was never sure why. Also, not that his friends would ever tell him, but they secretly hoped that he could help Ditzy keep track of time, having gotten tired of late mail and packages.
Dropping his work, he turned off the alarm before walking out of his house. He needed to get a few things before the day really started.
“Hmmm….” He said to himself, heading towards the center of town, “I wonder if I what I should get. Let’s see, maybe a pie? No,wait, didn’t Applejack say something about only having pear pies? Something about a bad apple harvest. I hate pears, nasty sour things, pears. Wait, doesn’t she like muffins? Yes, that’s better. A nice muffin batch. Maybe banana muffins. Bananas are good. And a bouquet of flowers? Hmmm… Roses are too… cliché… I know, a nice blue violet. I like the color blue. Maybe I could get a bowtie too. Bowties are…”
Muttering to himself, he almost missed the four massive monsters trying to eat the self-dubbed Cutie Mark Crusaders and that weird Zebra mare. Almost.
“M-M-M-MONSTERS!!!!!!” He screamed, running down the road and completely forgetting about his date. As he ran, the residents of Ponyville woke up, poking their muzzles out of their windows and looking towards the scream. Then they joined in, eventually leading the town into a massive panic.
Back in the center of town, Zecora looked down at her hooves. “Not again…” She said, although the fillies missed the lack of rhyme, instead sitting in a circle and desperately trying to figure out how to get rid of the panic. Behind them, the four metal monstrosities stood back to back, their rectangular things raised up, the pointy bits facing into the crowd.
________________________________________________________________________
Spike the dragon was up before Twilight, one of the rare times he actually managed to do so. He quickly made breakfast, before walking upstairs with a bucket of water. Even knowing he would be in big trouble, he picked up the bucket and threw the water onto his peacefully sleeping mother/mentor.
“BARGLEMARGLE IT WASN’T ME CELESTIA!” Twilight shouted, jumping out of bed. For a moment, she stood there, her wet mane floating above her head as she looked around with panic-stricken eyes. Then her mane fell down with a wet schhlick over her face and muzzle.
Spike, unable to hold it any longer, burst out laughing, joined with Peewee and Owlicious. He didn’t notice his mentor leaning menacingly over him, her mane moved to the side and extreme anger in her eyes.
“Spike.” She said, pronouncing the syllable as one would smash a rock, with a strong, quick strike.
Spike, noticing the literal fire in Twilight’s eyes stopped, a small “Uh-oh” escaping his muzzle. Twilight opened her mouth again and Spike, in a sudden instant of inspiration, borrowed a leaf from Pinkie’s book and shoved the omelet bagel sandwich he had made for Twilight into her mouth.
Whatever she was going to say was lost in the ‘Mhmmmmmm’ that followed. The rage vanished in her eyes as she grasped the tasty object with her hooves, finishing the rest in a few quick bites. Spike gave an audible sigh of relief, until he heard a too-sweet “Oh Spike…” from behind him. The color draining from his scales, he turned around.
“I have a very special job for you…” She said, the huge smile plastered across her face not reaching her eyes. Her horn lit up, followed soon by a floating scroll. “On this scroll is a list of chores I want you to finish today, after cleaning up for breakfast and cleaning my bedroom. Also, there is-“ Whatever she was about to say was drowned out by a loud shriek of “MONSTER!!!!” echoing forth from the center of town.
Instantly, Twilight dropped the scroll into Spike’s arms, where it promptly unrolled and began to fly around the room, filling it up in a giant package of paper. However, Twilight completely missed this, having already run down the stairs and into the library proper. A quick flash of her horn opened the door, followed by a slam as she turned towards the direction the screams were coming from. She proceeded to run towards them, barging through the panicked ponies running every which way.
She soon reached the center of town, passing Carousel Boutique and Sugarcube Corner on her way. Right by Town Hall the epicenter of the panic stood, three small ponies, a zebra, and four monsters.
“What in the name of Celestia are those?” Twilight said, stopping in her tracks. She took in the hulking things in all their glory. They stood a head taller than Celestia herself and were covered in scrapes and dents. They looked like massive, bipedal insects. Then she saw her friends converging upon the monsters from five different directions. Then one of them raised it’s forelimb and pointed a claw at her.
________________________________________________________________________
“Woah.” Carter said, watching as the small brown alien ran away, followed shortly by what seemed like the entire populous of the town. They ran every which way, falling over eachother, running into buildings and stalls and boxes, all the while sending off loud screams into the ether.
“It seems they don’t like us.” Jackson said, amused.
“Sir! We got six tangos converging on our position!” Chekov said, “They contain more energy than the rest of the town combined. Especially that one!” He pointed towards a purple one with a protrusion on its head. The scans showed it as being a huge, pulsing white star amidst candles. There was enough in it to initiate a supernovae on a stable yellow star.
Suddenly, the town grew quiet. A few slams were heard, with a few eyes peering out from windows and doors.
“How the hell did they all hide so fast?” Carter asked no one in particular.
The squad fell silent, however, when the six aliens began to bear down on them. The three small aliens seemed to attempt to defend them, while the striped one slowly dragged them out of the way. The six creatures surrounding them took a few steps closer.
“Be careful, everyone,” Shephard warned, “we don’t want a Klendathu scenario. Remember to wait for them to initiate hostilities.”
No sooner had he said that then a yellow and pink alien rushed forward, clutching his head between it’s forelegs.
“What the fu—“ He began, only to be cut off by a melodic song emanating from the horse. It was a melody he was extremely familiar with, although he remembered the Common version, roughly translated:
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleep my little baby.
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little horses.
Black and bays, dapples, grays,
All the pretty little horses.
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleep my little baby.
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleep my little baby.
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little horses.
Then again, that was the version popular in the Milky Way, whereas the one sung by the yellow alien was slightly different. One could divine the true lyrics if one so chose, but it was never discovered by Shephard or any of the squad, therefore the exercise would be pointless.
“I-I’ve heard that before…” Shephard said while his squad trained their weapons upon the pale yellow creature, “Stand down. I think it’s friendly.” He was still shaken from the song, bringing forth childhood memories, before bootcamp, before training, before… No, he wouldn’t think of that now.
“Sir?” Chekov asked uncertainly.
“I said stand down.” Shephard said more forcefully. Then his suit registered a foreign material beginning to cover some of the broken visual sensors. A quick scan made him laugh.
“I think it thinks that my suit is me. It’s placing gauze around my offline visuals.”
The squad chuckled, their weapons down but still held at the ready. Then Chekov spoke up.
“Sir, I think it’s ancient English. They’re speaking English!”
The squad all stood there, listening to the yellow alien, recognizing a few words here and there in its song.
“You’re right. I wonder what the chances of that are.” Carter said, wonder in his voice.
“Do we still have the English-Common dictionary in the datacube?” Jackson said.
“We should, as long as the data isn't corrupted, although I’ll need to jerry-rig it together with a few touchpads, and there won’t be voice recognition. So it will be entirely text-based. Hmmm….” Carter replied.
“Get to it. I think this yellow one has calmed the others, although it is starting to get annoying.” Shephard said, and, as if it had heard and understood him, moved back, before latching itself unto Chekov.
“I can see what you mean. Its wing-structures are obscuring my sight. Sooner we can communicate the better. I think I got some touchpads in my pack, if you can get it off for me.” He said.
“I beg your pardon?” Jackson said, chuckling, before removing Chekov’s pack. Carter got to work immediately, while the aliens looked on in surprise.
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