> Real Equestrian Heroes
>  by skyace
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Fighting For Freedom, Wherever There's Trouble
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	G.I. Joe is the codename for a clandestine, highly specialized rapid response unit. Their original mission; to defend the interests and lives of America and its citizens against any and all threats deemed too sensitive to entrust to regular military forces. With the rise of the global terrorist organization known only as Cobra, their mission has shifted almost exclusively to the pursuit and elimination of the sinister figure known simply as the Cobra Commander. 

Over the course of many years of raid and counter-raid, intrigue, espionage and even pitched battle, GI Joe has successfully thwarted Cobra’s desire for total world domination. The MASS Device, The Weather Dominator, alternate timelines, time travel, all these and many other schemes were foiled by the courage and sacrifice of the heroic men and women of GI Joe. And yet, with each successive defeat Cobra Commander has simply slithered back into the shadows, only reappear stronger than ever with even more devastating weapons than before. 

	

	
Snake Eyes held his breath as yet another patrol of Vipers marched past his position, blissfully unaware that not two feet from them lurked the most deadly assassin the world had ever seen. Snake Eyes toyed with the handle of his combat knife, but refrained from molesting the oblivious Cobra troopers. This mission was too vital to risk one of the Vipers escaping long enough to raise an alarm. Poking his head from the side door he had concealed himself behind when he had heard the enemy approaching, he scanned both directions down the long corridor he and his team had been creeping down moments before. 

“Damn it Snake!”

Speaking of…

“Would it kill ya to give me a little warning before shov’n me head first int’a broom closet?”

The masked commando cast a glance over his shoulder at the irate balaclava clad Army Ranger, and signed one handed *Forgive me for not allowing you to stumble headfirst into that Viper patrol instead*.

Beach Head narrowed his eyes at the ninja. “Cut the smartass. Ya’ve done nuthin’ but shove me around since we got here. Just gimme a friggen heads up next time.”

Snake Eyes sighed. Beach Head was an unholy terror in a firefight, the best drill instructor to come out of Fort Benning Ranger School, and universally famed for his lack of tact in conversation. Before he could reply to the Ranger’s grumbling, the third member of the infiltration team cautiously slipped out into the hallway. The tall red-haired woman cast a wary glance back in the direction the patrol had disappeared in, before turning a glare on the irate Beach Head. “Cut the chatter Ranger man. I have zero desire to be on the receiving end of one of Cobra’s interrogation squads.”

“Well excuse me fer grip’n, but maybe Ah don’t like the idea of sneaking into a place that we should be leveling.”  

The chief of intelligence for the GI Joe team, aka Scarlett narrowed her eyes at her companion. “You know very well why General Hawk vetoed that idea. This base is too close to a civilian population center to make such an attack worth the collateral damage.”

Beach Head grunted sourly. “Yeah, yeah, Ah get it. I just ain’t cut out for this sneakin’ an’ hidin’ bullshit. That’s supposed tah be the spooks job, I just blow stuff up.”

The spook in question snapped his fingers to gain his comrades attention before signing; *You two quite done? I would like to accomplish this mission with a minimum of running and shooting.*

Ignoring the smirking red-head and spluttering Ranger, Snake Eyes carefully crept around the corner and began working on overriding the electronic locks on the door at the end of the hallway. After a few seconds of splicing wires, mixed with a judicial amount of brute force, the door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. All three Joes peered out into what could only be a massive hanger, filled to capacity with Cobra mechanics and soldiers crawling over various aircraft and equipment.

What drew the Joes full attention; however, was what was to all intents and purposes a massive aircraft-carrier, currently hovering above the hanger deck suspended by multiple giant helicopter blades. Beach Head shook his head in disgust. “Welp, I’m calling it. This mission just went from ‘sneak in and sabotage’ to ‘holy hell, call in an airstrike cause we’re in over our heads’. You wanna make the call or should I?”

Scarlett ignored the grumbling ranger, instead focusing on the Cobra Helicarrier. “Much as I hate to agree with Sgt. Major Grunt’n’Growl, he does have a point. We simply are not equipped to handle something of this magnitude.”

She finally addressed Beach Head directly, “Get Team Bravo on the horn, we need to pull back and radio General Hawk for reinforcements.”

Beach Head grimaced; “Ah hate to break radio silence, but ah guess there’s no help fer it.” 

Removing the portable radio from his pack, Beach Head entered the coded signal to alert the second GI Joe team in the base to an encrypted message. Receiving the appropriate response, he began transmitting “Alpha to Bravo, scrub the infiltration. We’re in over our heads and need to regroup.”

The radio unit hissed for a few seconds, then the reply came through in a deep Mississippi accent “Bravo here, read you loud and clear. Best let your ninja know, his student decided to sneak aboard the snake’s carrier.”

Snake Eyes stiffened; Scarlet placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. Beach Head gave Snake Eyes a glare after acknowledging the secondary team’s information. “Well that’s just great. Roadblock and Tunnel Rat are on their own with no ninja back-up. Ya may wanna inform your student just what ‘team-work’ means in this outfit”.

Scarlet shot Beach Head a warning glance, before attempting to reason with an increasingly angry ninja-commando; “I’m sure Kamakura had a good reason for leaving his team. We had best rendezvous with the second team and find out just what would have possessed Kamakura to infiltrate without backup.”

A scant twenty minutes of careful footwork led to the two Joe teams meeting in a secluded supply room at the rear of the hanger. Beach Head wasted no time accosting his fellow team-mates on the disappearance of the younger ninja. “Well, did he give ya any explanation, or has Snake Eyes been training the punk in the ‘honorable way of ninja silence’!” 

Roadblock was quick to come the defense of the absent Joe; “Ease up on my man Kamakura Beach, this situation has gotten hairier than you all realize”.

Tunnel Rat nodded in agreement, “What youse guys need to know, is those dirty snakes are cooking up a mess of trouble of the MASS variety”. 

Scarlet gave the diminutive demolitions expert a sharp look; “What do you mean, MASS! The Joe team destroyed the original MASS device, and the DOD maintains a device of our own to counter any further attempts to utilize similar devices.”

Roadblock handed over a flash drive with an explanation of its contents; “Kamakura managed to lift this offa one of those Cobra officers that we saw embarking onto the helicarrier. The contents prove beyond a shadow of doubt that not only has Cobra designed and built a second MASS device, but managed to improve on the original design, effectively nullifying any effects our own device may have. Near as we can figure, Cobra plans to use that flying soup-can to keep their device on the move, thus making detection infinitely more difficult.”

Tunnel Rat decided to chip in his own two cents of info, “The helicarrier looks to act as more than just a way to keep MASS mobile. I saw both Destro, AND the big bad head snake embarking with both of their command staff.”

Scarlet clenched a fist, and peeked around the corner at the helicarrier looming above everything within the area. “So Cobra Commander himself is aboard that thing? He apparently believes this operation too important to leave to subordinates. Of course, it could be an elaborate feint, an attempt to draw our attention to the big obvious target while their true operation goes off un-hindered.”

Beach Head nodded in agreement. “Ah guess we won’t know fer certain until we hear back from the junior spook.”

“Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear”.

Beach Head was an Army Ranger, the Best of The Best, and he most certainly did not jump when a voice whispered in his ear. What he did do, is swing around and attempt to throttle the @%#!% ninja apprentice who seemed to think that sneaking up on a Ranger in the bowels of an enemy base was a good way to get a laugh. Unfortunately, attempting to throttle and actually getting his hands on the little snot were two very different matters, especially since said snot was a freaking ninja. He finally had to settle for directing a million watt glare into the ceiling vent the aforementioned ninja snot was currently sheltering in. 

“Damn it all to hell and back Kamakura, I’ve warned you not to sneak up on me like that! Yer just lucky Ah tried to strangle you instead of going with mah first inclination”. 

Kamakura decided the coast was clear, and cautiously stuck his head out of the vent.

“And how, pray tell, is strangling me not the worst thing I could expect from scaring you?”

“Ah was going fer my gun”.

“…Point taken”.

Kamakura finally slid himself completely from his hiding spot, only to find himself confronted by his Sensei. Snake Eyes’ full face mask made detecting his moods based on body language difficult, but it was apparent even to those unfamiliar with the commando that he was barely controlling his anger. 

*First, you do not abandon your teammates in the middle of a mission. Second, you do not attempt to startle said teammates, WHILE DEEP IN ENEMY TERRITORY. If Beach Head had been unable to control himself, even if you had been able to avoid his fire, the shots would have alerted any enemy forces that you were in the area, thus getting yourself and your entire team KILLED!*

Kamakura visibly wilted under his Sensei’s tirade. Snapping his heals together, he bowed low at the waist to both his master, and the still fuming Beach Head. 

“My apologies Sensei, and to you Sargent Major, for my thoughtless actions. I will not attempt to startle you while in the field again.”

Beach Head gave out a subdued snort through his balaclava. “Apology accepted soldier. Just keep your fool head on straight so it don’t get blown off.”

Kamakura snapped a salute, before turning to give his report to the rest of the Joes. 

“Right, I assume Tunnel Rat and Roadblock have already filled you in on the MASS device?”

At Scarlett’s affirming nod, he continued “Well, it’s a little worse than that.”

Snake Eyes leaned forward slightly *How can it be worse than Cobra having the ability to attack any point on the globe without warning?*

Kamakura’s face grew grim. “It would appear, from what I overheard Cobra Commander and Destro discussing, that Dr. Mindbender has somehow been able to prove the existence of parallel universes. They have apparently been utilizing one that they codenamed ‘Cobra-La’ to stockpile resources and train new troops.”

Scarlett looked up from her perusal of the information Kamakura had liberated. “He’s telling the truth guys, it seems that this apparently barren ‘alternate earth’ does indeed exist, and Cobra has been using it as their own private equipment locker. What we thought was a MASS device is actually a portal to this Cobra-La dimension. Cobra is equipping for a full scale war.”

Tunnel Rat groaned “Well, that’s just great. Now we’re REALLY in over our heads. I’m with Beach on this one guys, we need to get back to General Hawk so’s we can bring the big guns down on the snakes.”

Before any of the other Joes could agree, there was sudden metallic shriek, as though someone had ripped a giant sheet of aluminum foil in half. Beach Head gave a sudden pained grunt, as an arrow seemed to grow from his chest. Before anyone could react, he had reached up and tugged the missile free from his body armor.

“Damn Sonova… Ah think it broke a rib.”

Snake Eyes was already in motion, drawing his short ninjato from his back and deflecting a second arrow aimed for Roadblock’s forehead. Suddenly the small room they were sheltering in was awash in crimson coated bodies, as Cobra Commander’s personal army of assassins, the Red Ninjas attacked the small Joe force with sword, bow and spear. Kicking one of the ninjas back through the door, Snake Eyes led the way in a running battle towards the exit. Kamakura parried a katana strike with one hand, while using the second to flick a knife into the throat of a ninja attempting to finish Beach Head. The Ranger in question was swearing up a storm, all while using the butt of his M16 to bludgeon one ninja who had gotten too close. Scarlet was currently engaged with two ninja wielding the sickle and chain, or kusarigama, while a great chattering roar followed by three red ninja falling from the rafters showed Roadblock had entered the fray with his .50 caliber “Ma-Deuce” machine gun.  Tunnel Rat ducked an arrow, and responded with a grenade, taking out both the sniper and the jeep he had been using for cover. 

Needless to say, all this activity was quick to attract attention of the serpent variety. The Joe squad soon found themselves dodging not just ninjas, but also full and semi-automatic fire from the Cobra troopers stationed throughout the hanger. Fortunately for the Joes, the exit was close enough that by the time the regular terrorist soldiers had realized they had been infiltrated, it was too late to bring much more than desultory fire against them. With the need for stealth long gone, the Joes sped through the rest of the base at top speed, mowing down any resistance that dared to oppose them. Soon they had breached the doors leading to the outside world, and began double-timing it to the wooded copse where they had stashed their ride. While Roadblock ripped the camouflage cover off of their VAMP jeep (Vehicle, Attack, Multi-Purpose) Scarlett turned her attention to tending injuries, while Snake Eyes began scanning their back trail for signs of pursuit. Beach Head had reluctantly removed his body armor and was glaring in disgust at the damage the arrow had caused. “Damn Ninja. Ah just got this piece broken in all nice ‘n comfy. And while Ah’m on the subject of ninja…” He turned a gimlet eye on Kamakura “Ah’m guessing someone wasn’t as sneaky as he thought.”

Kamakura winced as Scarlet dug a shuriken out of his shoulder, and scowled right back at his accuser. “I wasn’t seen! I saw the Red Ninja while I was scouting the helicarrier, but they were all clustered around Cobra Commander. There’s no way anyone saw me either coming or going!”

Snake Eyes snapped his fingers for attention, before rapidly signing *Kamakura didn’t have to be seen. The arrow that struck Beach Head was fired THROUGH the wall. Only one person that I know of has the ‘Ear That Sees’.*

Roadblock looked up from where he was tending a long cut across Tunnel Rat’s back. “The Ear that Does What now?” 

Scarlett took it upon herself to answer for Snake Eyes. “The Ear That Sees is the name for a genetic trait passed down through ninja families. It refers to the ability to hear sounds with such pinpoint accuracy, that it’s as though the listener could ‘see’ what they were hearing, even though solid walls. There are stories that there were even attempts to selectively breed the trait. As of now, there is only one man with that ability known.”

Snake Eyes nodded grimly, and once again began signing; *My one-time sword-brother, Storm Shadow.*

Tunnel Rat held up his hand at this point “Whoa whoa, back up. I thought the guy wasn’t work’n for those Cobra goons no more. Wasn’t he like, brainwashed into it or somethin’?”

Beach Head snorted as he began buckling his damaged armor back on. “Yeah, well, what’s to stop old Fang Face from grabbing his onetime bodyguard and starting over? Ah can personally think of at least two times ol’ Stormy got hisself brainwashed, only to break free and start the whole dance over again.”

Further conversation was cut short, as the Joe’s position began shaking as a thumping roar began filtering through the trees. Looming over them, the unmistakable silhouette of the Cobra helicarrier could be seen rising from its concealed hanger. Also apparent, was the shimmering outline that surrounded the massive craft, seaming to pulse with every color of the rainbow. 

Roadblock squinted at the weirdly shimmering outline of Cobra’s most fearsome weapon. “Do my eyes deceive me, or is that hunk of junk glowing?”

Scarlet was observing the phenomenon through a set of binoculars. “It’s not just glowing, it seems to be…shimmering. It almost resembles the aurora borealis, but it’s not confined to the surrounding air. It appears that the entire helicarrier is losing cohesion.”

The Joe team watched in awe and not a little fear at the weirdly beautiful sight before them. The pulses of color were coming at faster intervals now, and right before their eyes, the entire craft began to fade and lose definition. Suddenly, the pulses turned an angry red and black, with arcs of electricity flashing like miniature thunderstorms around the helicarrier’s hull. Tunnel Rat blinked; “Um, is it supposed to be doing that?!”

Kamakura swallowed, and then tentatively spoke up. “I, may have switched a couple of the wires in the MASS devices control column.”

The other Joes swung around on him, with Beach Head speaking for them. “Whut do yew mean, ‘may have’ switched some wires’?”

Scarlett was next. “Kamakura, this is completely unknown technology. What could have possessed you to try and sabotage a device that could rip a hole through time and space?!”

Kamakura flushed beneath his mask. “I didn’t know it wasn’t actually a MASS device, okay? I figured that at least Cobra wouldn’t be able to teleport any troops until we had a chance to call the cavalry, and best case scenario they would end up blowing themselves to hell and back! It wasn’t until I overheard the Commander and Destro talking that I knew it was something other than MASS!”

Further conversation was cut short, as with a shrieking whine that caused the Joes to press their hands to their heads with pain, the red and black field began pulsing with greater rapidity. Before the Joes could react, there was a blinding flash, a noise like a jet engine over speeding, and then… the void opened up and swallowed them.

	

	
Another dimension, another time and place

“Right then, where to now?”

“What do you mean, ‘where to now’? Isn’t nearly getting your head blown off by a phaser cannon enough of an adventure for one day?”

“Oh come now my dear assistant, you should know by now that some beings just are naturally jumpy. Nothing wrong with a little jumpiness, can keep you alive in the right circumstances.”

“Landing in a ‘No Parking’ zone?”

“Oh all right, perhaps less jumpy and more completely paranoid. You’d think they’d never seen a blue box just materialize out of thin air before. Any-who, back to my original question, what would you say to a nice, relaxing visit to PX-214? It’s lovely this time of year; you can see both moons as they rise above the mountains.”

“Um, Doctor?”

“Or what about sunbathing on the beaches of Malakar?”

“Dooooctor…”

“Ooh, I know, I’ll take you wind surfing through the canyons of Gibboon, its loads of fun so long as there’s no homicidal metal men trying to delete you from existence.” 

“DOCTOR!!!”

“Yes Derpy?”

“Should that screen be flashing ‘DANGER’ over and over?”

“What?! No, no, nonononono, a thousand times no, that’s most decidedly not good.”

“And by not good, is this ‘The Cyber Ponies are invading again’, or ‘oh no, I’ve burned another batch of muffins’ not good?”

“Not good, as in there’s a rift opening in the veil between universes, as in the same type of rift that stranded me here.”

“Well, how’s that not good? You can finally go home! You can see all your friends… I mean,… oh.”

“Yes, your remembering what I said when we met now, aren’t you? No one to go back to, your all I have now, so on and so forth, but what concerns me now is that fact that while your world was extremely lucky that the worst thing to come through before was myself and a few lost Cybermen, this time, with the size of the hole being ripped in the fabric of the universe, it can be nothing less than an entire invasion force from who knows where!”

The Doctor began throwing various items out of a supply closet, barely missing his wall-eyed companion. Ducking under a suddenly air-born toaster, Ditzy “Derpy Hooves” Doo attempted to pump the enigmatic Time Lord for more information. 

“But, how do you know that they’re hostile? They could be really nice, like those funny little green fluff balls from Weewok 5?”

“Trust me when I say this, my dear Derpy, this is not the first alternate universe I’ve found myself in. Of course it’s the first where I’ve not been bipedal (still miss thumbs), but that’s not the point and I’m rambling again. Point is, I got a good look at what was coming through that portal, and believe me when I say that it is an invading force of the worst kind. I managed to see the craft they were piloting, and it will be filled to the brim with the most evil, clever, ruthless life forms to threaten peaceful worlds since the Daleks. AH HA!” 

With that lusty cheer, the Doctor pulled what looked to Derpy like a space suit for a tall biped out of the storage compartment. 

“I knew I still had it around, love a good space suit, space suits are cool. Now, here’s what’s going to have to happen. So long as that portal is open, there’s a chance more of those nasty chaps in the snake costumes will come through, so I need to work to close that rift as soon as possible.”

Derpy poked at one of the sleeves of the space suit. “So, you’re going to use this to go out there and fix the hole in space?”

The Doctor looked appalled; “Me, got out there to close a rip in the universal fabric clad in that old thing? No, no my dear that suit is for you.”

Now it was Derpy’s turn to look shocked. “You want me to fix it?!”

The Doctor slapped a hoof across his eyes. “No my dear girl, I’ll be staying in the TARDIS to effect the repairs, while you will use the suit to hitch a ride with that craft back to Equestria.”

Derpy’s eyes seemed to go even more crossed, if that were possible. “You want me to ride a ship full of deadly invaders through space, and reenter the atmosphere of the planet while wearing something that wasn’t even designed for ponies to wear?!”

“Oh don’t worry; the suit is just a temporary measure as you drift into the path of the incoming ship. Once you enter the field of unstable particles surrounding the ship, you’ll also be broken down into your basic atomic makeup and transported via the ships universal drive to the planet’s surface, where you’ll re-constitute along with the ship and be able to warn those nice Element Bearers that they have to get everyone to a safe place until I can stabilize the rift and come to help.”

“That explanation just made me more worried Doctor.”

As they had been speaking, the Doctor had been helping Derpy into the space suit, and pushing her towards the front of his ship. As the Doctor reached the doors to the TARDIS, he turned and looked into Derpy’s eyes with a small, sad smile. “Derpy, what’s rule number one?”

Derpy swallowed, then replied shakily; “Always trust the Doctor?”

The Doctor’s smile grew. “Brilliant Derpy, exactly. Now don’t worry, I’ll be along just as soon as I’ve either closed the rift, or found help. On the off chance that I can’t make it in time, and you should encounter the beings on that vessel, there’s something you need to remember.”

Derpy nodded, her full attention on the slightly mad pony that had taken her on so many adventures before. “What’s that, Doctor?”

The Doctor’s eyes hardened; “If I’m right about who is on that ship, they will call themselves ‘Cobra’, and will have a large snake on some portion of their uniforms. Do Not Trust Them! Not matter what they say, no matter what they may try to offer Equestria, they are dangerous, and they will kill anyone (or anypony) who tries to get between them and whatever they may want. If however, and I pray I’m right, there are some who call themselves ‘GI Joes’ and have a small flag with stars and stripes on their uniform, they will help you and any other innocent threatened by Cobra. Be safe, be careful, and keep watch for either group.” The Doctor suddenly was smiling again. “Now, are you ready for the ride of your life?”

Derpy glanced around the open door at the approaching mass. “Um, well, now that you mention it…”

“Excellent! ALLONSY, my Assistant!”

And with that, Derpy was falling.
	
	
	
> Welcome to Equestria
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Doctor had been right about one thing. This was without a doubt, the most hair-raising ride that Derpy had encountered in her life, and that’s after spending almost a year traveling with the mad pony and his blue box. Derpy knew her wild rides. As she drifted into the path of the oncoming cloud of particles, Derpy was curious to discover that in addition to the main city sized mass that she and the Doctor had first observed, there were what appeared to be six other smaller clouds ranging in size from just slightly bigger than a pony to the size of a manticore.  As she began to approach the larger cloud, Derpy realized that one of the smaller masses was twisting towards her! Derpy’s eyes widened, she had no idea what these smaller clouds could represent, but the Doctor had instructed her to hitch a ride along with the larger particle field. Who knew what could happen if she were to collide with something other than her target? Twisting and writhing within the confines of the suit, Derpy could only watch in growing trepidation as the smaller cloud slowly began to overtake her, then, seemingly consume her. 

Derpy was pleasantly surprised when the predicted “breaking down into your basic atomic makeup” was a painless experience. If anything it was similar to what she experienced when having a particularly vivid dream. She could see a fuzzy outline of her body and spacesuit, almost as though she were wearing fogged-over goggles. Waving her hoof about, she giggled as she swept the limb through herself, feeling a slightly staticy tickle wherever she touched. Turning her thoughts inward, she felt as though she had drunk just one too many of Big Mac’s special aged ciders, with a warm, fuzzy glow obscuring her mental processes. It was with some small amount of surprise that she realized she could sense another being with her. Straining to pierce the haze that seemed to characterize her very being, Derpy began to pick up traces of feelings and stray thoughts that were not her own. With a start, she realized that the cloud she had drifted into was another living creature like herself. Or perhaps, she thought with a shudder, not quite like herself. This creature seemed angry, and the thoughts that seemed easiest for Derpy to pick up on seemed frighteningly focused on something the creature kept referring to as a “Damn Junior Spook” and what the creature wanted to do to it. Derpy suddenly became aware that the creature she was floating through space with had noticed it had picked up a hitchhiker, and she shuddered as an extremely penetrating awareness was brought to bear on her. The feeling was not unlike the one she got whenever she had to report a damaged package or lost letter to her boss back home, and made Derpy feel as though she were being evaluated and found somehow wanting. 

It was a relief when Derpy was able to tear her consciousness away from the slightly disturbing individual she was tethered to, and realize that her body was regaining its integrity. When the fog finally lifted from her mind and senses, she took a deep breath and began evaluating her surroundings. First thing she noticed, was the deep blue of the sky with an occasional cloud scudding across its surface. Blinking slowly, she comprehended the fact that she was finally within Equestria’s atmosphere. As the last of the mental haze finally lifted itself, she gently rotated her eyes away from their upward tilt to discover what looked like a tree growing rapidly larger… THUNK!!! Okay, so the tree wasn’t growing, she had just been getting closer. Oh look, her old friend, mental fog was back, and he’d brought a friend. Groaning from the headache, Derpy began struggling her way out of the confines of her now ruined suit and attempted to take inventory. Wings? Ruffled, but unbroken. Legs? Derpy rotated each one tenderly, and verified that yes, she still had four, and they all seemed to be in working order. Vision? Perhaps a little more cross-eyed, but that was probably to be expected after slamming head first into a tree. 

Rubbing her head in an attempt to lessen the throbbing, Derpy spared a glance for her dented in helmet. Shuddering to think about what the damage could have been, Derpy snapped a mental salute to her smashed headgear, vowing to bake a special muffin its honor when she got home. Speaking of home, just where had she landed anyway? Once her eyes settled into what could pass for normal (for her, anyway) Derpy began scanning her surroundings for landmarks, brightening up considerably when she noticed a weatherworn sign proclaiming ‘Running of the Leaves, Km 16”. Derpy smiled happily, with any amount of luck, she would be home in time to pick up Dinky from school. It was at that moment that she was reminded that she had not returned to Equestria alone, as a low growling moan rumbled from the depths of a nearby bush. Derpy laid her ears back in sudden fear; could this be one of the monsters the Doctor had warned her of? Fighting the nearly overwhelming urge to turn tail and fly as fast as her wings would carry her back to Ponyville and the relative safety of her home, Derpy took a tentative step towards the grumbling bush. 

“Um, excuse me” Derpy called out, desperately trying to keep her voice steady, “Are you alright?”

The reply, when it came, reminded Derpy of Fluttershy’s friend Harry the bear, if Harry had a southern drawl and could talk, that is.

“Hell NO, I’m not alright. Ah been sliced, shot at, chased, kicked, dematerialized, and dropped butt first into what hasta be the only thorn bush fer miles”.

As the stranger continued to gripe over his multitude of hurts, Derpy had slowly edged closer to the bush’s edge. At the moment she came within a hooves distance from peeking through the foliage, the thing within decided to stand up. And thus first contact between a Human and an Equestrian was made. 

“Well, ah’ll be very damned. Psyche-Out is gonna have a field day with me when ah finally wake up.”

	


Scarlett re-constituted almost a mile up. Shaking off the haze that had characterized her state of being for the last whatever-amount-of-time she had spent as a cloud of particles, she quickly took stock of her situation. Coming to the conclusion she would make a nasty mess of herself if she continued on her present course, she quickly snapped her arms to her sides and her legs together. When she spread them out again, a thin membrane stretched from her arms to her torso and between her legs, transforming a terminal fall into a controlled descent similar to a flying squirrel. Directly below her, Scarlett could see what appeared to be a medieval castle extending from the side of a mountain. Racking her memory for any mention of a similar structure in an attempt to determine her location, she almost didn’t notice that she had drifted into the path of what appeared to be a fantasy themed blimp. Banking sharply to the side to avoid a collision, Scarlett found herself on a crash course for one of the many stained-glass windows dotting the exterior of the castles many towers. Rolling into a ball to protect her exposed face from the soon-to-be flying shards, the Joe smashed through the window and splashed into what felt like a deep pool of warm liquid.

“WHAT MEANS THIS INTRUSION?!!! WHO DARES TO DISTURB THE LUNAR PRINCESS AT HER BATH!!!?”




The Everfree Forest was not known for its hospitality towards ponies attempting to settle within its borders. Its wild magic and abundance of carnivorous plant and animal life served as a healthy deterrent to any pony who might consider venturing within the overgrown depths of Equestria’s most notorious forest. Despite the Everfree’s well-deserved reputation, there was one who had not only learned to survive within the sinister jungle, but to thrive. Zecora was by no means completely anti-social, but the isolation of her chosen home served her well when it came to providing her with undisturbed time for meditation, or to brew her many alchemical potions and elixirs. Dipping her ladle into the latest batch of her now famous cure-all, the zebra shamaness sniffed the mixture contemplatively, before nodding her head in satisfaction. While the surrounding forest was more than capable of providing for most of her admittedly few needs, brewing and selling various potions at her stand in Ponyville provided her with enough bits to pay for the occasional luxury at Sugercube Corner, while also affording her the chance to socialize with her neighbors. Chuckling to herself, she thought back with wry amusement to the time when those same ponies who now called her friend had run in terror from the “evil enchantress”. Shaking herself from her trip down memory lane, Zecora began ladling the finished potion into its awaiting vials. She was startled from her task by the sound of branches breaking in the tree she had claimed as her home, followed by a shout of pain as somepony or something thudded to the ground outside her window. Taking up her stout traveling staff, Zecora cautiously slipped out her door and around her abode to the location of the disturbance. “I feel it only fair to give warning, intent to do me harm will lead to your mourning.”

Coming around the corner, Zecora found herself looking down a long metal tube gripped in the massive hands of… just what was that?

“Funny, ‘cause I was just thinking the same thing, so back up unless you wanna feel my Ma-Deuce’s sting.”




Babs Seed carefully peered around the corner of the ally she was currently sheltering in. Scanning up and down the bustling sidewalk, she breathed a sigh of relief as she straightened up from her hiding spot.

“There she is!”

Well, buck. Spinning on her heel, Babs tore off down the alley, hoping to outdistance her pursuers. Ducking through gaps in fences, jumping overturned trash barrels, kicking over others in a vain hope that one would trip up one of her tormenters, Babs dodged from alley-way to sidewalk and back again. The end result was never in doubt though. Finally Babs came up against a fence that had been recently repaired. Turning on shaking legs, desperately trying to regulate her breathing, Babs put on what she desperately hoped was a nonchalant expression as her hunters slowly formed a rough semi-circle around her. There were four of them, three colts and one filly, all nearly old enough to be considered teenagers and most importantly (in their eyes) all possessing their cutie-marks. Swallowing down the crippling instinct to bolt, Babs attempted to talk her way out. It hadn’t worked yet, but miracles happen, right? “Hiya guys, nice weathah for a run, amiright?”

The filly (and obvious ringleader) flashed a smile that reminded Babs uncomfortably of a certain shark from that film she had snuck in to see last weekend. Even more unfortunate, it was just before it had messily devoured the heroine. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite blank-flank.”

One of the colts, a hulking specimen with a cutie-mark of a broken baseball bat, stepped forward menacingly. “Ya wants I should pound her face in fer showing her blank butt on our turf, Posy?”

Babs swallowed; this was rapidly shaping up to be one of those days. She could already see the walls of the local trauma ward closing in…

Posy shoved the colt back a step. “Calm down Bruiser, I’m sure the little blank has the toll this time. Right blanker?” This last at the now quivering filly before them.

Taking a breath and attempting to still her suddenly weak knees, Babs decided that if she was going to go down, by Celestia she would go down swinging! Standing as tall as she could, she directed a glare at her tormenters. What she wouldn’t give to have Supermare’s eye beams right about now. Invulnerability would be nice too. “Alla youse guys need to back off, alright? You remember what happened the last time youse bums tried ta pull this donkey dung wit me.”

Posy made a show of examining her hoof for dirt. “Oh yes, I remember very well. Poor widdle blanky wan and tattled to daddy.” 
Her eyes suddenly snapped onto Babs, hard as flint. “Well, daddy won’t save you this time. In case you forgot, daddy dearest got his flank shipped out today, isn’t that right Babsy?”

Babs swallowed hard, that was the trouble with having a devoted father who paid the bills with weeklong fishing expeditions. Sure he had her back when he was home, but when he wasn’t? Tartarus on earth. 

Posy and her gang started moving in. “You know blanky, now that you mention it, the regular toll just isn’t going to cut it. I’m thinking you need to be taught a lesson in just what it means to cross the 12th St. Sluggers.” 

Steeling herself, Babs pulled her hooves up in front of her body, taking the boxing stance cousin Brock Apple had showed her last family reunion. “Well, come on then youse sorry sacks of manure. Bring it you excuses fer rump-ticks!” Oh horseapples, this was going to HURT. 

Or it would have, had something not swan dived into the large garbage barrel just behind the menacing bullies. Said something was cussing and swearing a blue streak, and even Babs with her fisherpony father winced at some of the words spilling out of the receptacle. Posy kicked one of her toadies (with, appropriately enough, a cutie-mark of a toadstool) towards the shaking barrel. “Well, don’t just stand there like the useless lump you are, go see what it is!”

Gulping audibly, the colt began inching his way towards the now tipped over barrel. Just as he got within spitting distance, something tumbled its way out of the overturned barrel, and stood up. And up. And up.  And GREAT CELESTIA’S BEARD, WHAT WAS THAT?!!! The alley was suddenly emptier by about four bodies, as the once feared 12th St. Sluggers ran as fast as their hooves could take them for home. Tunnel Rat scratched his head with one hand, while pealing an over-ripe banana peel off his shoulder with the other. “Man, I don’t know what I got into, but I gotta be trippin. I could swear that those liddle horsies was talking…” it was then he noticed Babs Seed cowering in a corner of the alley furthest from where he was standing. Forget the trip to the hospital; she was going to be devoured by some kind of Garbage Monster! Her Poppa had warned her about what could be lurking in the sewers beneath Manehattan, but he had never mentioned the horrors that lurked within the common trash can! It was just too much, and Babs finally gave up her tenuous grip on lucidity. The last thing she saw was the look on the Garbage Monster’s face. It looked… confused?




As days went, the small group of close knit friends known as the Cutie-Mark Crusaders had known worse. Just barely, but still, being covered in pie filling beat running from a manticore. Flicking a particularly stubborn glob of cherry off her horn, Sweetie Belle sighed unhappily. “Well, that could have gone better.”

Scootaloo was wrestling with the cream soaking into her feathers. “Really, what tipped you off? The part where we didn’t get pie eating contest cutie-marks, or the part where Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon decided it would be funny to buck the table over on top of us?”

Applebloom looked up from where she was dunking her hair-bow in a small bucket of water. “Ah gotta admit, ah was not expecting those two to get so physical with their nastiness. Usually all we gotta worry about from them is some remarks about our blank-flanks, or some-such.”

Scootaloo finally gave up her wings as a temporary lost cause, and crossed her forelegs with a huff. “S’not fair! Not only do we not have our cutie-marks yet, but now we gotta worry about those two actively sabotaging us?! I don’t know about you girls, but I’ve just about had it with Diamond and Silver.”

Nodding angrily, Applebloom was quick to agree with her pegasus friend. “Ya’ll ain’t the only one Scoots. This time those two stuck up no-good polecats have gone too far. Ah say we take a break from crusadin’ and see if we can put our heads together towards making their lives miserable fer once!”

Gnawing her lip anxiously, Sweetie Belle found herself forced to once again provide the voice of reason for her slightly hotter-headed friends. “I don’t like Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon any more than you do, but do you really think we need to get revenge? I don’t remember it working out so well for us the last time we tried. Remember the first time Babs came to visit?”

Her fellow Crusaders visibly wilted at the recollection. 

“Ah suppose yer right Sweetie”. 

“Yeah, I guess so”.

Sweetie Bell smiled at having been able to talk down her friends from doing something rash for once. That smile quickly faded, however, as the problem they had previously been discussing forced its way to the forefront of her mind once again. “Just cause I don’t think we should actively pursue a revenge scheme against Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be ready for if they try to go after us first.”

Scootaloo perked back up. “Yeah, this just means we need a way to defend ourselves if those two plot-heads try anything else along with our usual crusader plans!”

Applebloom scowled at her friend’s language, but agreed regardless. “Mah granny always says, ‘when dealing with rattlers, talk soft but keep one hoof on the hatchet’. Near as ah can figure, she means that some ponies ya gotta be ready fer if they try tah double-cross ya.”

The crusaders quickly set off for their clubhouse, eager to begin work on their next dual cutie-mark/bully defense plan. Stopping for a few minutes at the stream that ran through the Apple family orchard to finish cleaning the remnants of the ill-starred pie eating contest attempt, their attempts at washing themselves quickly devolved into an impromptu water-fight. Finally, giggling and shoving playfully, the CMC made their way to the small tree fort that had been passed down from Applejack to her younger sibling. All was not well however. As the fillies began approaching the clubhouse, they could see a gaping hole torn through the roof of their secret headquarters. Gasping in dismay, they quickly charged up the path to the front door, speculating as to what had occurred.

“Great Celestia an’ Luna, what in tarnation coulda’ caused that?!”

“I’ll bet you bits to donuts it was that dirty rotten Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon!”

“Aw geez, I just finished putting up those curtains Rarity gave me!” 

Charging up the ramp to the entrance to the clubhouse, the CMC came to a sudden stop at the sight of just what had smashed through their roof and now lay sprawled amid the wreckage.

“What is that?!”

“Ah dunno, don’t look like no critter ah’ve ever seen before.”

“I like its cloths, kinda a pretty green.”

Creeping closer, they began examining the intruder in greater detail.

“Land sakes, wouldja look at the size of it? Ah bet it would stand taller than even big bro!”

“Check it out, lookit the awesome sword!”

“Careful Scootaloo, it looks sharp. Ooh and shiny!”
“Come on Scoots, put that down before ya cut yerself. Hey it’s got another one!”

“Guys?”

“Looks like it’s wearing some kind of mask.”

“Kinda looks like some kinda ninja pony mask.”

“Guys?”

“Ninja pony? Like what Mr. Filthy Rich dressed up as for last Nightmare Night?”

“Eeyup”

“Guuuys?”

“Just a sec Sweetie. I guess it looks kinda like that, except for the little detail that this IS NOT A PONY!”

“Don’t you yell at me Scootaloo, ah know it ain’t no pony. Kinda looks like a minotaur, jes’ without any horns.”

“GUYS!!!”

“Geeze Sweetie Belle, you don’t have to shriek. What’s the matter anyway?”

“I think it’s awake.”

“…”

“Ah shoot.”




The newly reformed Humble and yet still Great and Powerful Trixie was just certain that there was no way for this day to go wrong. Her latest tour of Equestria was met with, if not overwhelming success at least moderately profitable accomplishments. Her newly redesigned show, incorporating puppets of various Equestrian heroes had been a big hit with at least the young foals of the towns she visited, and that in turn had meant a steady if small stream of bits coming her way. Yet it was still not enough! That Twilight Sparkle, she had gone from simple librarian to the fourth Princess of Equestria. Surely, a unicorn as Great and Powerful as Trixie was every bit as capable as some mousey bookworm. All she needed to do, was enroll herself as apprentice to Princess Sparkle, and Alicornhood would be within her grasp! Did not Twilight herself start as student to a princess? Whatever she could do, Trixie was sure to excel at! 

Trixie had to pull her wagon to a stop at that, shaking her head at herself in admonishment. She WOULD NOT go down that road again, for down that path lay ursa minors. She would HUMBLY request an audience with Twilight, and respectfully ASK if she could study at her hooves. Surely she wouldn’t refuse such a request, especially coming from a unicorn of such magical prowess. 

Further introspection was abruptly curtailed, however, by a thundering roar coming from the forest running alongside the path. Trixie froze in fear, as the undergrowth seemed to explode outward, disgorging a fully grown (and very angry) manticore! Trixie cursed her decision to take the road running alongside the infamous Everfree Forest, and began preparing to charge a concussive blast spell. It likely wouldn’t do much to hurt such a large monster, but it might buy her enough time to escape with her life. As she was preparing to cast, however, Trixie realized that the manticore was currently engaged with trying to devour what looked like a hornless minotaur dressed in black. Trixie watched in fascinated horror as the manticore pinned the creature down against the road with one paw, while readying it’s stinger to deliver a lethal dose of toxin to its intended victim. Suddenly, the black-clad creature flung it’s appendages up towards the manticore’s face, two strange blocky items clenched in its multi-digited hands. With a sound like an out of control rivet gun, fire spat from the ends of the strange devices, while the manticore’s head seemed to disintegrate. Horrified, Trixie stumbled to the side of the road and began violently emptying her stomach of its contents. When her gut finally finished revolting against her, Trixie unsteadily swayed to her hooves, wiping her mouth with the edge of her traveling cloak. Focusing her watering eyes on the sight of the slaughter, she was shocked to see the creature in black stumbling towards her, limbs gripping its abdomen. Trixie was very nearly sick all over again when she caught a glimpse of the extent of the creature’s injuries. The manticore’s razor sharp claws had carved the black creature from its shoulder all the way down to its waist. The creature managed two more faltering steps, before sinking down into the dust of the roadside. Trixie hesitated for a split second, and then with a toss of her mane, she charged a levitation spell and lifted the injured creature into her wagon, followed with a hasty bandaging using one of her sheets. Harnessing herself back to the wagon, she took off at a gallop for Ponyville. Even if the creature inside her wagon was dangerous (and how could it not be, to take down a manticore by itself?) she likely owed her life to it, and would do all in her power to ensure it got to a doctor, or vet, or whatever it needed to stop it from bleeding out. 
	
> Can the world oppose, Deadliest of Foes?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The malfunction of the MASS-MD (Molecular Assembler Scrambler Sender, Multi-Dimensional) had predictably cast the crew of the Cobra Helicarrier into an uproar. Officers of various units shouted contradictory orders while Vipers and Troopers rushed from point to point in an attempt to fulfil them. The notable exception to this pandemonium was the bridge of the Helicarrier itself, thanks in large part to the discipline of the troops stationed there and the professionalism of the operating crew itself. This was thanks to the efforts of one man, Laird James McCullen Destro the XXIV. Prior to the construction of the massive ship (built by none other than Destro’s M.A.R.S. Industries) he had insisted on staffing the bridge with troops and support personnel handpicked from amongst his own personal security force, the Iron Grenadiers. Rigorously trained, and fiercely loyal to the point of fanaticism, the Grenadiers were widely regarded as the most deadly private security force known to man, rivaling some countries special forces with regards to training and effectiveness. 

This training and discipline stood them in good stead, as the Helicarrier re-materialized in a nose down attitude pointed towards an unforgiving landscape of boulders and canyons. Orders passed from Destro to his seconds in a clipped, expedient fashion that brooked no room for argument. Slowly, the immense craft began to level out, the nose coming up inch by tortures inch. It was enough to save the troops inside the Helicarrier, but not the ship itself. The Helicarrier managed to achieve a nose up configuration, but clipped a low hilltop, slamming the ship belly-first into the rocky landscape. Metal shrieked and tore with a sound like a demented banshee as the Helicarrier slid several hundred feet before settling at the rim of an immense crevice. Then, silence began to fall once more upon the dried up wasteland the Helicarrier had come to rest upon. Relaxing his grip upon his safety belt, Destro released the catch and began striding around the bridge, checking readouts and demanding damage reports in a deep voice that held only a trace of his Scottish brogue.  

As he busied himself coordinating those under his command who were still conscious, a low moan and clatter of overturned terminals revealed the presence of the only other high-ranking Cobra officer on the bridge aside from Destro himself. Examining a cracked monitor that was still somehow displaying data, Destro spoke without looking up. “Are ye alright my dear? I did warn ye to strap yourself in before Mindbender switched his infernal device on”.

The raven haired beauty that stumbled over to where Destro stood was in no mood to be trifled with. “Don’t speak to me about that idiot Mindbender! That mustachioed moron assured us he had worked the bugs out of that MASS device of his.” The Baroness gingerly prodded the back of her head, wincing as her fingers contacted the rapidly swelling bump that was the result of her sudden introduction to the laws of physics. Destro smiled tightly still not taking his eyes off of the terminal he was examining. “Aye, Mindbender promised us much this time. The Commander is nae going to be pleased with this latest development. By the by, have ye seen our illustrious leader since our departure?”

The Baroness left off examining herself for injuries in favor of responding to her on-again-off-again paramour. “Not since we began preparations for dimensional jump. You know the Commander, he is likely hidden away within that bunker you built for him.”

“Dinnae mock the man overmuch my dear, by the state of yourself and my carrier he was the smarter man, I’m thinking.”

“YOUR carrier, Destro?”

Activity on the bridge ground to a sudden halt at the sound of an oily, rasping voice. Standing framed within the doorway, bracketed by his personal bodyguard of Red Ninja and Crimson Guardsmen, stood the worlds most wanted man. Barely standing at six foot in his boots, Cobra Commander still seemed to project an aura of malevolence that would leave larger men shaking before him. Ruthless, cold, and calculating, Cobra Commander seemed a human embodiment of the serpent he had named himself and his organization for. Striding onto the bridge, The Commander slowly panned the expressionless gaze of his mirrored steel battle-helmet across the large space, missing no detail of the wrecked super-weapon. “Well Destro? I await your report on the status of my carrier.”

Finally straightening up from the now smoking terminal, Destro turned to answer his master. “It’s early to tell yet Commander. All I can tell ye is that we have successfully bridged the divide between worlds despite a slight equipment malfunction, and as of last report ninety-eight percent of personnel have survived.” 

Cobra Commander stood regarding his weapons supplier for a few short seconds before replying, barely controlled rage causing his voice to rattle, as though forced from between his teeth. “Successfully bridged the divide Destro? Successfully?! I apparently am seeing something far different from yourself. You must not see my carrier smashed into the dust of an uncharted world, with NO WAY TO RETURN!!!” The Commander’s voice had steadily risen as he spoke, until the last few words were nearly screamed. Showing no outward signs of concern, Destro calmly glanced at an intact computer screen then turned his gaze back to The Commander. “Really Commander, there’s nae need to get yourself into such a bother. The carrier is crashed, yes, but with my own expertise and the strong backs of your own bonnie Vipers, we’ll soon get her flying again. And look! Ninety-nine point one percent survival rate now! We’ll have plenty of strong backs to get this crate airworthy again.”

Cobra Commander continued to direct his glare at Destro for a moment more, before turning his back and striding out of the room. “Very well Destro. You will begin repairs at once, and then join me and the other officers within my quarters. We must establish where we have ended up, and formulate a plan for the future.”




The group that assembled less than an hour later was a veritable who’s-who of terrorism and evil. Seated behind his mahogany desk, with a map of the globe behind him and the banners of Cobra to either side, Cobra Commander sat broodingly in his command chair. Partially within the shadows behind his master, the legendary ninja assassin Storm Shadow stood with arms folded, narrowed eyes scrutinizing the assembly for any potential threats against The Commander’s person. Standing slightly closer together than was perhaps necessary, Destro seemed to radiate a cool confidence, while The Baroness made no attempt to hide her scorn for those around her that she considered beneath her.  Chief amongst those to be receiving her disdain, and cheerfully ignoring her, was Major Sebastian Bludd. Formerly of Australia’s Special Air Service, now wanted for war crimes on three continents, the rough and ready soldier of fortune was one of Cobra’s longest serving officers, and its most cruelly lethal. 

Standing beside the one-eyed Australian, Dr. Mindbender was absorbed with the readout of a small tablet computer, analyzing data from the Helicarrier’s surviving sensor array. Once a beloved dentist, the mad scientist had undergone a sinister personality change through his self-experimentation with pain relief through mind control. He was now Cobra’s expert on all things related to manipulation of the mind, with a side specialty in genetic tampering. 

Flipping a small knife from hand to hand, Cobra’s master of disguise and infiltration made sure to keep a wary eye on the ninja hovering over Cobra Commander’s shoulder. Zartan had good reason to fear The Commander’s bodyguard, and those standing near him could see the nano-bots within his skin rippling as the shape shifter tried to resist the urge to activate his cloak and slip away. 

Seeming to regard the entire assembly with disdainful amusement, the Crimson Twins Xamot and Tomax were engaged in a whispered conversation as they waited for The Commander to begin the meeting. Virtually identical aside from the scar marring one of the brother’s otherwise handsome faces, The Twins were both Cobra’s financial advisors, and the field commanders of the notorious infiltration and shock troopers, the Crimson Guard. Possessing of an eerie sense for each-other’s thoughts and feelings, they were known for starting and finishing each-other’s sentences, and were also distinctive in their shared sense for when one was in pain. 

Cobra Commander leaned forward across his desk, clasping his hands before him across the paper strewn surface. Glancing from one to the other of his subordinates, he waited until he was sure he had their undivided attention before speaking. “Well Destro? What is the status of my Helicarrier?”

Clearing his throat, the Scottish arms dealer stepped forward a pace before answering. “Honestly, the damage is almost purely cosmetic. Sure the engines will require an overhaul, and the lower hanger bay doors are smashed almost completely in, but I am pleasantly surprised by just how well we were able to weather the crash landing. If all goes well, we should have the carrier airborne within two weeks at most, and battle worthy within three.”

“Very well, begin work at once. Major Bludd, your casualty report?”

“Right’o Commander, good news from me-self as well. We only lost fifteen men dead or missing, while the rest are sporting bumps and shiners of various severity. I’d estimate we have nearly three hundred able-bodied men able to carry a rifle, and that’s not counting the pilots and chaps in support.”

“Excellent, begin sending out patrols for a radius of ten miles. Make sure they are equipped with scanning gear and radio packs; I don’t want any uninvited guests. Speaking of, just where did we land Dr. Mindbender?”

Finally tearing himself away from his tablet, Cobra’s mad scientist took a moment to clean his monocle, before speaking in his guttural accented English. “Based upon data recovered from such equipment that survived the emergency landing, I can hypothesize that we have come to land upon C-006.”

“Most enlightening Doctor, if I were a member of your research team. Care to elaborate upon just which alternate world that is?”

“Of course Commander. As you know, there were six alternate dimensions that I was able to detect in close enough proximity to our own to enable probes. Of the six, two were deemed uninhabitable due to the harshness of climate or geography, while three more were rejected for consideration for Cobra-La after it was ascertained that they supported intelligent life. Dimension C-001 was chosen for our off-world base due to its stability of climate, while remaining barren of all but the most primitive of life. From what initial scans I was able to compile immediately following the crash, I have determined that this is the planet Equis, so designated due to the fact that the dominant species is equine in form.”

Zartan spoke for the first time. “So, what, like horses?”

Dr. Mindbender nodded. “Yes, though smaller in stature than the common domestic Earth horse. These creatures seem closer in size to the Shetland pony. There are, however some key differences beyond apparent sentience though.”

Baroness raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate, Doctor?”

Mindbender hesitated, and then plunged on with his explanation. “Beyond the fact that these ponies seem to have developed a civilization of their own that rivals humanity’s, there seem to be three sub-species of pony. First is the type that bears the most resemblance to Earth equines. Next there are the other two, which for lack of a better term I have dubbed Unicorns and Pegasi.”

This last statement caused a shockwave of surprise and disbelief among the assembled Cobra officers, with Major Bludd being the most vocal. “Hold on, bloody unicorns? And the mythological Pegasus no less. Next you’ll be telling us they use bleed’n magic and shoot rainbows out of their arse.”

The doctor ignored the mocking tone used, and simply confirmed what the increasingly incredulous gathering had inferred. “Indeed, though I hesitate to use the term ‘magic’, the unicorn species seems to manipulate objects through the use of some form of telekinesis, while my probes sent back video footage of one pegasus leaving what appeared to be a rainbow colored contrail as it flew.”

While the assembly continued to devolve into a disbelieving argument over Dr. Mindbender’s report, Cobra Commander had remained eerily silent. After a short period of time, wherein Dr. Mindbender continued to defend his findings against an increasingly sarcastic Major Bludd and Zartan, he finally slammed his fist against his desk in an attempt to bring his lieutenants attention back on himself. 

“This is all quite fascinating Doctor, but one question still stands. After the meddling of those accursed Joes, can the MASS-MD device get us back to either Earth or Cobra-La?”

Mindbender seemed to shrivel slightly as he prepared to give his unpredictable leader the bad news. “I am afraid not at this time Commander. The jump drained the machines power supply, and the damage caused by the jump itself and subsequent crash means that I will require at least a week to repair it. And even if I do, we still face the problem of no power supply. Until we can develop a substitute, we have no way to power the device.”

Cobra Commander was not known for his ability to take bad news gracefully. Smashing his fist against his desk, he stood up with such force that his command chair was smashed back against the wall. For a long moment, Dr. Mindbender stood quivering beneath his Commander’s shaking gaze, before as abruptly as it had come; the Commander’s anger seemed to dissolve. Straightening up and clasping his hands behind his back, Cobra Commander slowly turned and began walking towards a small door leading to his personal quarters. 

“I expect, Dr. Mindbender, that you will devote your full efforts to acquiring said power source. The rest of you will assist him as you see fit. I will be in my quarters, and I do not wish to be disturbed unless someone has developed a solution to our problem. Send out the patrols as I ordered, and order them to kill anything that comes within fifty miles of our position.”

Closing the door behind him, The Commander finally gave into his earlier rage. Drawing the ceremonial saber he wore at his side, he began to hack and cut at a wooden pillar placed there for that very purpose. Finally, spent from his anger and physical assault upon the scarred post, Cobra Commander stumbled wearily towards the small, yet lavish bathroom. He attempted to run a sink of water, but found that apparently one of the casualties of the crash had been the plumbing.  Letting out a snarl of impotent rage, The Commander smashed his fist through the ornate mirror above the sink. Then, as he was turning to leave the bathroom, a soft, unfamiliar voice seemed to materialize from the air around him. “My, my, aren’t you the passionate one.”

Cobra Commander wasted no time drawing his pistol. Swinging the firearm from corner to corner, he began searching the small room for owner of the voice. “Who’s there? Show yourself!!!”

“Come now my lord, there is no reason to fear.”

“I fear nothing! Now come out before I call the guards.”

“That… could prove difficult, as I have no corporeal form to show you.”

Continuing to scan for the origin of the voice, Cobra Commander failed to notice that one of the shadows in the corner of the room seemed… darker. 

“Explain yourself.”

“I was once the most powerful being this pitiful world has ever known. Before I could take my rightful place as ruler, a wretched band of traitors cast me down, nearly destroying me. But, I managed to survive, though greatly diminished. I now live, if you can call it that, as nothing more than a shadow of my former glory.”

“A pitiful story, but I fail to see what that has to do with your presence within my personal toilet.”

“I have been observing you since your arrival, Cobra Commander. You are a being of great rage, and greater ambition. You desire to rule over your world, and will allow nothing to stand in your way. I know this, for we are much alike, you and I. All I ask, is your permission to serve you. In exchange for helping me to conquer this land and place me in my rightful place as Queen, I will guide and advise you in acquiring power beyond your wildest imaginings, enough to conquer both this world and your own!”

Cobra Commander finally lowered his weapon. “You can promise me this?”

“I swear it, upon my very existence, that I will faithfully serve you as your vassal until such time as you have conquered this world and that of your origin.”

Cobra Commander nodded once. “Then I agree to your proposal, and accept your oath of allegiance. But know this creature. Betray me in any way, and I will make you wish you had never drawn breath. Are we clear?”

“Crystal clear, My Lord.”

As the Cobra Commander turned to leave the wrecked bathroom, he failed to notice the appearance of a pair of turquoise eyes in the shattered remains of his mirror, eyes with slit pupils like those of a cat. 

“Fool.”
	
> Royal First Impressions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“WHAT MEANS THIS INTRUSION?!!! WHO DARES TO DISTURB THE LUNAR PRINCESS AT HER BATH!!!?”

Desperately spitting water and clawing at her now drenched red hair, Scarlett attempted to gather her wits enough to figure out just where she had ended up, and exactly who the lady with the cast-iron set of pipes was. This attempt was rendered futile when something lifted her up and shot her across the room and through the door, which was, unfortunately for Scarlett, closed at the time. Gasping air into her abused body, Scarlett finally managed to struggle to her feet, turning a half circle to face the woman whose bath she had evidently intruded upon. “My apologies Ma’am, I didn’t mean to…”

“Guards!!! Seize the wretch!!!”

For a long moment, Scarlett found herself frozen in stunned disbelief at the evidence that her eyes presented her brain. Standing before her, dripping water, was what appeared to be a blue-furred winged unicorn. Scarlett’s mind began to race in multiple directions, with one part debating whether this was a unicorn with wings or a pegasus with a horn. A related portion was berating the first for trying to classify what was clearly a vivid hallucination. The section devoted to logical thought and analysis took one look, threw up its metaphorical hands and cried “I’m out!”, and proceeded to sulk in the corner. And a small, nearly forgotten portion of Scarlett’s subconscious that housed her inner child began to jump up and down and shriek; “Awww, look at the pretty pony! She’s so cuuuute!”  

With all that was going on upstairs, Scarlett was understandably slow to react. This was rectified by a blast of indigo energy that was apparently shot from the creature’s horn, knocking Scarlett backwards against an extremely sturdy chest-of-drawers. This was enough to reawaken the portion of her brain that was a trained soldier. This portion took mere seconds to assess the situation, tell the rest of her brain to sit down and shut up, and kicked the rest of her body into high gear. Leaping to her feet, Scarlett dodged a second blast that disintegrated the furniture behind her. Throwing her body forward feet first, she managed to slide between the creature’s legs and out the door. Once again regaining her feet, she tore off down a small hallway and down a flight of curved stairs. Hearing a sudden clash of metal on stone, she chanced a look behind to determine whether she was being pursued. Her eyes widened at the sight of not only the first horse creature coming after her, with a glow around it’s horn that seemed to indicate a readiness to fire another of those force blasts, but it had been joined by two smaller creatures.

At first glance they seemed identical to the first creature, but in the second that Scarlett allowed herself to look, she noticed several differences beyond the apparent size difference. These creatures both wore what appeared to be blue armor in the style of the ancient Romans or Greeks. Both creatures were of a uniform grey coloration; possessing yellow eyes with… slit cat pupils? And… bat wings?! No horn, but judging by the gleam of metal, they appeared to be armed with some sort of gauntlets with long claws extending a good five inches out of the base. They also seemed to be snarling at her with two long fangs extending from their upper jaws.

By this point all three creatures (Scarlett hesitated to call them horses) had risen into the air and were fast approaching the fleeing Joe. Quickly analyzing the mobility disadvantage that these creatures presented her, Scarlett decided to expedite her descent down the tower. Leaping over the bannister railing, she began to leap from wall to wall, directing her descent into a controlled tumble down the interior of the tower. Latching onto a wall hanging, Scarlett swung out and landed with a roll that placed her back on her feet and out of the tower into what must have been the ground floor of the castle. By this time the big one’s cries had attracted several more of the bat winged horses, many of whom were armed with spears and what appeared to be crossbows. Scarlett now found herself ducking various missiles as she continued her mad dash.

By this time the pursuit had progressed into what appeared to be a banquet hall, filled to overflowing with even more little horse creatures that appeared to be dressed in various takes on maid and butler uniforms. Scarlett’s sudden appearance among this herd with the large horse and her soldiers in tow yielded predictable results as the large space descended into complete chaos.  Dodging spears and crossbow bolts, leaping over or dodging around screaming servant horses, Scarlett finally chose to leap onto what seemed to be the only clear running space available, which just happened to be the long table that the servants had been setting. Kicking over dishes and overturning goblets, Scarlett ran down the length of the table while trying to free her sidearm from its holster. Wincing as yet another arrow zinged by her head, she finally managed to yank her own miniature crossbow free from its case. Wrenching her body around, she somersaulted over a high-backed chair at the end of the table and slid to a stop kneeling just before a large set of double doors. Quickly lining up the small bow’s crosshairs, Scarlett prepared to fire at the apparent leader of the pursing soldiers. Perhaps cutting the apparent command structure out would buy her some time to escape and evade. The large winged/horned equine came around the corner of the large dining table; horn alight with a shimmering blue energy.

Time seemed to slow as the creature caught sight of its quarry, weapon drawn and pointed between her eyes. Those same freakishly large eyes suddenly went even wider, as it realized it was being targeted, and the hunter had become the prey. For a long moment time seemed to freeze, as Scarlett tensed her finger, and began pulling the trigger back towards herself. Then a blinding pain exploded from the back of her skull, and her former target seemed to waver and shift as though under water. Then darkness consumed her, as Scarlett sprawled unconscious across the marble floor with a broken half of a spear shaft clattering beside her.

	

	
If there was one thing that being in the military had taught Scarlett, it was the value in ‘playing dead’. There had been many occasions where an unsuspecting enemy had entered into a damning conversation while under the mistaken impression that she was still unconscious. Such occasions had often led to Scarlett gathering valuable intel, or at least allowed her time to formulate an escape plan before her captors could realize that their prisoner had recovered. Thus when Scarlett finally began to regain her wits, she made a conscious effort to ignore her throbbing skull while keeping her eyes closed as though she were still out.

First things first: inventory. Limbs? She seemed to be bound sitting with her back against what felt like a stone pillar, and if the warmth on the side of her face and the smell of food were any indication, she hadn’t been taken far from the dining room she last remembered. Equipment? By the weight, she was still clad in her light body armor, but her belt and holster were conspicuously missing.  Hearing? Oh, now this was interesting.

“Luna, despite what you claim, I cannot fathom how this… creature managed to get through your bathroom window. Your personal quarters are located within the highest tower in the castle.”

“I know how ridiculous it must seem sister, but I must trust the evidence put forth by mine own eyes.”

“Are you sure that this creature does not in fact possess wings?”

“None that I could discern, though I suppose they could have retracted beneath its attire.”

A third voice joined the first two. Where the previous speakers had been female, this one was undoubtedly male, and spoke with the harsh, clipped tones of a soldier standing at attention.

“Negative, Your Majesties. My stallions conducted a thorough search of the creature, and short of disrobing it, there was no sign of wings of any type.”

Majesties? As in plural? And stallions?!

“Our thanks, Sergeant. Hast there been word from the Solar Guard as to how yon creature may have ascended the wall?”

Hast? Yon? What was this, Medieval Times?

“Corporal Steady Eye has reported no sign of any climbing apparatus, but he and the captain are still going over the wall with a fine tooth comb.”

Scarlett was suddenly distracted from the conversation by the feeling of someone (or something) stroking her hair.

“Lieutenant Sentry! What, pray tell, dost thou think thou art doing?!”

“S-sorry Princess Luna! It’s just… I really like its mane. It’s pretty.”

Oh great, now she was getting fondled by one of the whatever-they-were that had captured her. Touch anything other than the hair buddy…

“Calm down Luna. I understand you are feeling a little shaken..”

“A little?”

“… but that is no reason to snap the Lieutenant’s head off.”

Oh crap on a cracker, he was doing it again.

“Lieutenant! That was not permission to resume handling the prisoner’s mane.”

“Sorry Princess Celestia! Won’t happen again ma’am!”

Okay, so two princesses. Luna, the wannabe Shakespeare, and Celestia, the slightly saner sounding of the group.  

…

Seriously?! Hands off the merchandise!

“Really Tia? Now thou must fondle its tresses?”

So much for ‘saner of the group’.

“Simply examining the creature in greater detail. Lieutenant Sentry was right; it does have quite the luxurious head of hair.”

Okay, enough is enough.

Scarlett’s eyes snapped open, revealing a freakishly large eyeball inches away from her nose. Realizing that its prisoner had awoken, the creature jerked back, revealing itself to be a… oh Lord above, another one?!!! Scarlett panned her gaze from side to side, confirming that there were indeed now two large, winged unicorns, both of whom were regarding her as though she were some particularly poisonous snake. She immediately recognized the smaller, blue unicorn/pegasus (Pegacorn? Unisus?) as the one that had chased her through the tower. Standing next to her, was a yet larger specimen, pure ivory white with… a mane made of mist. Now that she had some time to observe the two, Scarlett realized that both creatures’ manes seemed to be comprised of fine silk that floated and shimmered in a non-existent breeze. Standing next to the two larger equines, was one of the smaller… bat-ponies, for lack of a better term, that had joined in the pursuit earlier. This one seemed slightly bulkier than the others that had been chasing her, and was currently covering her with a small crossbow. Oh, and he was snarling at her with bared fangs. Creepy. He was flanked by some dozen other smaller equines, some of whom looked similar to Count Draku-Horse and others who looked like normal horses. Normal horses with either wings or horns, and dressed in golden armor of course. 

Scarlett panned her gaze from left to right, noting that there were more armored equines standing guard at both ends of the dining hall, with even more of the winged variety hovering in front of the many ornate windows. While just to her right side… that must be ‘Lieutenant Sentry’ the hair fondler. Scarlett shot the now visibly quaking creature a death glare, and slowly and clearly began to speak; “Touch the hair one more time, and I will snap your leg off at the knee and shove it so far up your ass, you’ll be able to tickle that little marble you call a brain, understood?”. The golden garbed pegasus gulped visibly, before slowly lowering his… hoof to the marble floor. Scarlett noticed that he was still staring at her hair with poorly disguised fascination. Said it before, say it again. Creepy.

Scarlett was distracted from Lieutenant Hair Fondler when the slightly smaller of the two pegacorns decided that now would be a good time to start the interrogation. Stepping forward and raising her chin imperiously, she began to slowly pan her gaze over Scarlett’s bound form. Apparently satisfied with her examination, the horse princess began to speak once more. “Well? Explain thyself creature, since you have proven thyself capable of speech, vulgar though it may be. Who, and what art thou? Perhaps you are an assassin? Who sent you, the griffons? Changelings? Art thou, in truth, a changeling thyself? Make haste, speak!”

Straightening her posture as well as she was able, given the circumstances, Scarlett stared up into her interrogator’s eyes.

“I am a member of the Military of the United States of America, call-sign Scarlett. As of 0900 hours, I was in pursuit of a dangerous organization of criminals and terrorists. There was a malfunction with a device they were attempting to activate, and I regained consciousness in freefall above your castle. I don’t know what a changeling is, nor was I aware of the existence of actual griffons, or for that matter unicorns, pegasi or whatever the hell you’re supposed to be.”

The blue equine quirked an eyebrow before tossing her head and giving a derisive snort. “Dost believe me foaled yesterday? What is this… United States of America? 'Tis true, I am still fairly recently returned from mine exile, but surely I would have been made aware of a new principality arising during my absence.”  At this, the blue pegacorn turned towards the larger white one, as though seeking confirmation. At the smaller equine’s unspoken question, the larger of the two simply shook her head.

“I am also at a loss Luna. I have neither heard of this supposed country, nor have I ever encountered a creature that looks quite like this one. Although…” here the large one (Scarlett assumed this one to be Celestia, sister to the blue one, Luna) cocked her head and began to scan Scarlett’s features with greater intensity “She does remind me of something mentioned within one of our older texts.” After a short period of scrutiny, Celestia finally addressed Scarlett directly. “You mention a ‘criminal organization’. Care to elaborate?”

Scarlett nodded. “Certainly. Known as ‘Cobra’, they are an international terrorist and paramilitary organization. As clichéd as it may sound, their goal is literal world domination beneath the heel of the organizations supreme leader, known only as Cobra Commander.”

There was a disbelieving snort, as the burly crossbow toting bat-pony decided to chip in his two cents worth. “Do you actually expect us to believe that? Do you take us for foals to be entertained by comic strip drivel?”

Realizing that this conversation was getting her nowhere fast, Scarlett began rhythmically flexing her bound wrists. You didn’t spend five years as a ninja’s girlfriend and not pick up some escapism techniques. “I don’t care if you believe me or not, the fact remains that if I’m here, Cobra is most likely somewhere nearby as well.”

Luna moved a step closer to the bound Joe. “Though Sergeant Shield was blunt in his assessment of your story, I cannot disagree with him. How do we know that thou are not with this… Cobra? Thou hast told us much, and yet nothing at the same time. What art thou? Where do you come from? How numerous is this criminal band? Art thou truly their enemy, and by the same token, art they our enemy? Mayhaps you are merely attempting to buy yourself time for your companions to rescue you, or perhaps this Cobra is in truth on the side of good while it is thou who art the criminal!”

Scarlett glared up at the midnight blue princess, snarling her reply even as her fingers finally slipped through the loops of her bindings. “I have told you as much as I am allowed. You want to talk about trust? Look at things from my view point. I’m tied up with a splitting headache,” she noticed Lieutenant Sentry looking rather guilty at that “Surrounded by freaking unicorns and pegasi, creatures out of myth. I have no idea where I am, only that I am likely not even in my home universe anymore. If you want any more information out of me, than we are going to have to have a little give and take here.”

Celestia spoke up. “It would appear that we are all suffering as victims of circumstance. We cannot trust you since you somehow penetrated the heavily guarded royal quarters, and you cannot trust us due to our guards attacking and restraining you. We both apparently view the other as an alien creature out of myth and legend. The question is how do we proceed from here?” She turned to her sister. “Luna, are you willing to extend a small measure of trust towards our guest, in return for a greater understanding of the events that led to her intruding upon your privacy?” Luna seemed to hesitate for a moment, before finally acquiescing with a firm nod.

“Very well Sister, if thou art willing to allow her freedom, I will bow to your discretion.” She then turned her stern gaze upon Scarlett. “Know this. Should thou intend harm upon our own person or our subjects, thou will wish that Tartarus itself would swallow you up ere I am finished with thee.” Turning to her guard, she extended her hoof towards Scarlett. “Sergeant Aegis. Please release the prisoner that we may speak with her as befits civilized beings.”

At that moment, Scarlett brought her hands around her front, and began working on freeing her ankles. “Much appreciated princess, but I think I can take it from here.” Scarlett had to suppress a smirk as Luna whipped her head around and stared at the now standing human in shock. “How didst thou loose thy bindings?!” Scarlett finally gave in, and grinned at the flabbergasted equines surrounding her. “Trade secret, but I’ll tell you this much. When picking a boyfriend, make sure you get him to pass on any freaky skills he may have. You never know when they might come in handy.” Celestia gave a gentle cough, and gestured to the re-served table behind them with a graceful wing motion. “Please Miss Scarlett, come and sit with my sister and me. We will chat over our respective concerns and questions in comfort. There is much, I feel, that we have to discuss.”
	
	
> Armies of the Night
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Equestrian Badlands. Canyon floor beneath crashed Cobra Helicarrier.

Timothy Ahiga had not been having a good day. Actually, it wasn't so much his day that was going badly, so much as his entire damned life. Born into less than privileged surroundings, Timothy had grown up on the Navajo reservation in Arizona. His father had joined the Army to fight in Vietnam, while his mom had disappeared sometime after his fifth birthday, leaving him to his grandfather’s rearing. His condition hadn't improved with the return of his father. Having survived the hell of rice paddy and jungle combat, his father had instead become a casualty to rampant alcohol and drug abuse.  With the loss of his grandfather to a heart attack, Timothy had been left to the less than attentive care of his deadbeat dad, forced to virtually raise himself as his father continued to sink deeper into a spiral of depression and self-destruction. At least when his grandfather had been alive, Timothy had had a chance of a decent upbringing under the strict yet fair upbringing of the village elder. His father had returned a broken man, crushed beneath the weight of his experiences in Nam and the poor treatment he was forced to endure upon his return. By the time Timothy had entered his upper teens, his father was spending more time in jail than out, and Timothy had grown into a bitter, angry young man who had grown up listening to so many drunken rants against the government that he had come to accept his father’s inebriated ramblings as fact, a situation that had not been helped by the apparent lack of support in his small town. 

Thus when a radical anti-establishment organization called Extensive Enterprises had rolled into town promising steady pay and generous benefits for anyone willing to join their security team, Timothy had been among the first to sign up. Two weeks later, he found himself issued a blue uniform with a black face-mask, an AK-47 with two extra clips of ammo, and ordered to follow the insane one-eyed Australian into a firefight with men in black suits on the front lawn of a large white mansion. Barely escaping the counter-attack led by a demon in black with an Uzi, Timothy, now known officially as Viper-5585, next found himself ‘volunteered’ for a special mission to hijack a military satellite, only to once again barely escape the subsequent missile barrage within a damaged re-entry vehicle. And so it went, for nearly five years. Five years of participating in one harebrained scheme after another at the command of a man with a major snake fetish and delusions of grandeur. Five years’ worth of near-death experiences in some of the worst conditions known to man, almost exclusively at the hands of a small government task force seemingly comprised of some of the most insane soldiers the US Military could find. Ah well, at least the pay was decent. When it came. And now that he was apparently stranded on an uncharted planet in an entirely different universe, the likelihood of receiving that already late paycheck was rapidly becoming less likely. To cap it off, he now found himself picking his way along the floor of an alien canyon scouting for ‘any sign of intelligent life’, in the company of some of the biggest morons and slackers in the entire Cobra Viper brigades. 

“Hey Injun.”

Case in point, Viper Squad Lead O’Donnell. Racist bastard. 

“Ain’tcha supposed to have, like, freaky tracking skills?”

Timothy paused to wearily smack his helmet a couple of times. Damn thing’s HUD kept shorting out on him.

“No Squad Lead. “

O’Donnell wasn’t willing to let it go however.

“Yer an Injun right? So yer supposed to be able to, like, track anything across any terrain.”

Timothy finally gave up on his malfunctioning helmet, and instead decided to shut off the static filled display entirely. 

“Despite what cheap comics and Saturday morning cartoons would have you believe, not all Navajo are able to track an ant across a desert, or some other equally inane cliché. I never spent any of my time hunting, or camping, or any of that other Boy Scout garbage.”

Silence. Another fifty feat of bland canyon. 

“Sooo… Yer still an Injun, right?”

Timothy considered for a moment whether he would be able to kill the idiot that was supposed to be leading his squad. Maybe he could say his gun misfired…?

“I am a Navajo.”

Another fifty feet.

“So an Injun?”

Maybe if he ‘fumbled’ a grenade…?

“Yes, Squad Lead. I am a Native American.”

“So an Injun.”

A pause.

“Yes Squad Lead. I’m an ‘Indian’.”

Finally, some peace and quiet…

“So ya should be able to track, like, instinctively.”

… Sonova…

“No, Squad Leader.”

At this point, the five Viper squad had come to a halt beneath a strip of cave wall that was honeycombed with caverns of various sizes. The remaining three members of the scouting party seemed content to sit on whatever handy slab of rock they could find, while attentively observing the developing drama between their squad mate and commander with barely concealed humor. 

“Well, I say that since yer an Injun, yew should be up front so’s yew can pick up any trail.”

“Exactly what trail do you expect me to find!? We’re in a damned canyon.”

“I dunno. Yer the Injun, yew tell me.”

“Being an Indian does not make me an expert tracker!!!”

By now completely engrossed in the quickly escalating spat between their fellow Vipers, none of them noticed as nearly every cave began to display dozens of eyes glowing a sickly green.  

“Well, I’m the leader of this here group, and I say yew git yer Injun hide up front so’s yew can scout fer… whatever we’s supposed tew be scoutin’ fer.”

“Oh, of course. Scout for whatever. Care to be a little more specific there, Squad Leader?!” 

“Don’t yew shout at me Viper! I’ll report yer brown ass ta Major Bludd, see if I don’t.”

“THAT’S IT!!! I have had it up to my neck with your racial slurs. I’m going to… WHAT THE HELL?!!!”

Unnoticed by the bickering Vipers, the canyon had suddenly become filled by what seemed to be hundreds of insectile forms, crawling along the walls and filling the air with a foreboding buzzing. Sensing that their prey had discovered them, the nightmarish creatures suddenly dove upon the hapless scouting party.

“WEAPONS FREE!”

“WHAT ARE THEY?!”

“KILL IT, KILL IT!!”

“OH GAWD, IT BIT ME!!”

“COMMAND, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!!! COMMAND DO YOU READ… GITTAWAYFROMME!!!”

For the next few seconds, the canyon resounded with the sounds of automatic weapons fire, punctuated by the screams of the Viper squad and occasional grenade detonation. And over it all, the one constant remained the incessant buzz of hundreds of tattered wings. Finally, there was silence.




	
The Cobra Helicarrier was a truly massive piece of machinery. Designed by Destro’s own M.A.R.S. Industries, it had served Cobra faithfully for many years as both battle platform for the launching of Cobra air legions, and often as a temporary headquarters for Cobra Commander. As such, in addition to massive hanger bays containing squadrons of Cobra Rattlers and Firebats, along with secondary hangers housing a company of HISS tanks and supporting crew and infantry, there was still room made for fairly opulent officer’s quarters, with a significant portion devoted to a fully stocked med-bay. This last had been commandeered by Dr. Mindbender as his personal laboratory, and currently held both the mad scientist as well as his master and two guests. One of whom was most assuredly not pleased with the second. 

Destro scowled from across the room at the floating remnants of Nightmare Moon, who was currently floating above an array of sensors as Dr. Mindbender attempted to analyze the eerie phenomenon. “Once again Commander, I feel I must protest against allowing this… Brollachan access to this ship.”

Cobra Commander, now clad in his ceremonial cape and cowl, raised an inquisitive brow at his glowering arms dealer. “Now Destro, there’s no need to insult my esteemed guest in that manner, particularly as she has claimed to be able to assist us in returning to our own world.”

Destro’s frown simply deepened, and he shifted in place in an obvious display of disquiet. This exchange simply seemed to amuse Nightmare Moon, as a nebulous laugh seemed to echo from every corner of the lab, much to the discomfort of both Destro and the Crimson Guardsmen stationed at the door. Finally seeming to control her amusement, The Nightmare turned her hovering reptilian eyes upon the man who seemed to possess a head made of silvery metal. “Why my dear human, do I truly detect an undercurrent of distrust and, dare I say, fear?”

Destro simply stared back at her, arms folded across his chest. “I dinnae fear anything that I can understand. It’s when I don’t understand that I grow wary. And Ye, ye formless spiorad, there is too much about you that smacks of darkness and deceit for my comfort.”

Cobra Commander leaned back in his seat with a dark chuckle. “In that case, Her Majesty should fit in well amongst our merry band, eh Destro?” 

The Scottish Laird had obviously decided that The Commander’s comment was undeserving of any answer, as he turned on his heel and stormed through the lab doors. Meanwhile, oblivious to the drama being enacted around him, Dr. Mindbender finished calibrating his equipment, and directly addressed Nightmare Moon for the first time since Cobra Commander had brought her to his domain. “Your Majesty, Commander, I am ready to begin my analysis.”

Cobra Commander waved a languid hand. “Proceed Doctor; that is, if it is acceptable to you my dear Queen Moon?”

Once more an eerie chuckle seemed to echo. “Ready as I ever will be I suppose my lord. Although, once we are done here, might I make a small request?”

Cobra Commander nodded once. “Speak.”

The floating mass seemed to quiver slightly, before the Nightmare’s eyes seemed to narrow slightly. “As I am sure you may guess, my fall at the hands of those… traitors left me somewhat diminished. I simply require the use of one of your fine soldiers, preferably a female if at all possible.”

At this, Cobra Commander leaned forward in his chair, once again quirking a questioning eyebrow at the bizarre request. “And what, pray-tell, to you require one of my Vipers for? I doubt you need assistance to apply makeup in your current, shall we say, condition?”

Nightmare Moon once again laughed. “Oh no my dear Commander, nothing so trivial as that.” Then the Mare of Darkness’ eyes once again narrowed. “No my lord, I simply require something that I can… oh how do I put this without sounding crude? I require one of your soldiers, that I might possess their body for my own.”




	
When all communication with Viper scout team nine had been lost (amidst a flurry of indistinct screams and a strange background buzz) Zartan had decided that it would be beneficial to his health to get out of the helicarrier and out from under the oppressive gaze of Storm Shadow for a while. Having unloaded his personal motorcycle and called his personal crew to attend him, he was soon roaring across the barren landscape that lead to the canyon edge, intending to investigate the situation personally. He was currently wondering whether he would have been better off to remain at the helicarrier, taking his chances with a ninja who may or may not be under the Commander’s complete control. 

“Oi Zartan, why’d ya have ta bring us all along witcha?”

Now instead of the possibility of bodily harm, he now had to contend with the certainty of IQ loss.

“I was just about ta pop me a fresh can of grape soda.”

“Indeed, and I was just about to partake of a particularly fresh chocolate donut.”

“Partake nuthin ya limey weasel, ya were try’n ta hog the whole box fer yerself.”

“Steady on with the name calling there Ripper, you sorry excuse for a Colonial.”

“Ah, blow it out yer exhaust pipe, Buzzer.”

“Make me you Tasmanian twit.”

Zartan had finally had enough. Bringing his custom chopper to a sudden halt, he waited for the rest of his misbegotten band to realize he had stopped and circle their bikes around to where he sat.

Zartan sat impassively and mentally called roll. Buzzer, the Cambridge professor turned chainsaw wielding thug. Torch, former Merchant Marine with an unhealthy fascination with flamethrowers and blowtorches. Ripper, a human Tasmanian devil who hated everything except motorcycles. Monkeywrench, a psychopath with an affinity for high-explosive.  Gnawgahyde, poacher and sniper extraordinaire. Together, they formed the infamous band of biker mercenaries known as The Dreadnoks, their criminal histories trailing them across the globe from the Australian Outback to the Florida Everglades. Totally unscrupulous and lacking all morality or common decency. And the biggest bunch of idiots to ever trip over an exhaust manifold.

Buzzer was the first to break the silence that fell once the roar of motorcycle engines had faded. “I say Zartan old bean, what’s the reasoning behind dragging us all out of our air-conditioned bunks? It’s not half hot out here you know.”

Ripper was next to speak out. “Yeah, an’ me grape soda is probably flat by now.”

Torch snorted. “Fergit about yer stinkin’ pop Ripper, I wus in the middle of tryin’ ta get that wanker Buzzer to gimme my share of the donuts. Now I’m starvin’ ta death out ‘ere.”

Zartan decide that he had heard enough, and spoke up before an argument could devolve into a brawl. As usual. “Can one of you idiots tell me where we are, currently?”

A long, silent moment. The biker gang looked back and forth from their enigmatic leader to their fellow Dreadnoks. Finally, Monkeywrench took it upon himself to answer. “Er, the desert?”

Zartan shot the dimwitted explosives expert a mirthless smile. “Very good Monkeywrench. I see the rot that resides between your ears hasn’t extended to your eyes just yet. Anyone else want to take guess at where this desert is located? Hmmm? Perhaps the answer could be found in the briefing I gave you morons this morning?”

Buzzer suddenly perked up. “Oi, I know this one. We’re on an alien planet of some sort, ain’t we Zartan?”

Zartan’s smile seemed to grow almost predatory at this point. “Well done Buzzer. Now, would any of you mental midgets like to take a guess at what we could find on an uncharted, alien planet?”

Another long pause. Then a comical look of horror passed over each of the bikers ugly faces.

“Oh blimey, ALIENS!”

“Bloody ‘ell, I’ve seen enough films to know what ‘appens next!”

“Oh mudder save me, I don’t wanna have me brains eaten by some space monster!”

Zartan managed to restore order through the strategic application of the back of his hand. “Yes, we are on an alien planet. Yes, there are aliens on this planet. No, they won’t eat you. You lot are so stupid that any poor creature that tried to eat what you cretins call brains would starve. Now that I have your attention, I will repeat myself once more. One of our Viper squads has gone silent, and we are going to find out why.”

Torch stopped rubbing his sore cranium long enough to voice his concerns. “But, Zartan. ‘ow do we known that bunch a’ Vipers didn’t get eaten? We could be next!”

Zartan grabbed a double handful of Torch’s shirtfront. Dragging him closer, Zartan glared down into his quivering subordinate’s eyes. “You need to ask yourself something Torch. What do you fear more? The possibility of aliens? Or me?”

Torch’s throat bobbed convulsively, and he attempted what he fondly hoped was an ingratiating grin. “T-take it easy Zartan. Yore the chief, Chief.”

The rest of the Dreadnoks were quick to agree.

“We’re with ya all the way Zartan.”

“Never doubted yew fer a second Boss.”

“Too right. Lead on, o illustrious leader.”

Releasing a gasping Torch, Zartan nodded firmly at his gang. “Well? Enough malingering out of you morons. Mount up!”

With a roar of exhaust, the Dreadnoks continued on their way to the chasms floor. Barely ten minutes of hard riding later, the bikers found themselves drawing near to the point that contact with the scouting party had been lost. Turning the final bend of the canyon wall, Zartan signaled for his followers to park their bikes. Arming themselves with an astonishing array of assorted weaponry, ranging from assault rifles to chainsaws, the Dreadnoks quietly crept the last few yards to their destination. Spreading out, the bikers slowly examined the area, making particular note of the many caves that pierced the walls above them. 

Ripper shuddered. “Cor, I don’t like the look of those ‘oles. I keep thinkin’ sumpthin is watching me, y’know?”

Torch nodded nervously. “Too right mate. And anudder thing, can ya hear anything? It’s too bloody quiet for my likin’.”

Zartan hissed at them to be quiet, before turning to his tracker. “Well Gnawgahyde? What can you tell me?”

The Dreadnok in question was squatting over a patch of sand, examining the canyon floor with suspicious eyes. “Well, I’ll tell ya Boss. I don’t like the looks of this ground. It’s too, y’know, clean.”

“And how is that a problem?”

“Think about it Boss. If there were some kinda scuffle, you’d think there would be some sign, y’know? Blood spatter, shell casings, the like. But this canyon looks like me mums kitchen floor afore company. If’n I was to guess, I’d say that whoever or whatever attacked our boyo’s made pains to clean up after themselves. And if that were true...”

At that moment, the poacher’s keen eye picked up a shadowy form creeping from the mouth of one of the caves. He had barely enough time to yell a warning, before the Dreadnoks found themselves fighting for their lives as the air became filled by hissing, winged creatures. Unlike the hapless Viper squad, however, the Dreadnoks had the advantage of forewarning, and were able to assume a defensive formation. The alien creatures quickly found that they could not get close to the biker gang without suffering horrendous losses. Soon the creatures had backed off, hissing maliciously at the group before them.

Needless to say, the Dreadnoks were not in the calmest frame of mind in the face of their worst fears come true. With the exception of Zartan, every one of the bikers were gripping their weapons in shaking hands, desperately trying to remain still beneath the scrutiny of the monsters that had attacked them. Finally, Buzzer’s latent academic curiosity got the better of his fear, at least enough to allow him to observe the winged creatures surrounding them. “They look like, little ‘orses. Little, bug ‘orses.”

Zartan continued to cover the surrounding horde with his rifle. “I can see that Buzzer. No antennae that I can see though. Do you think that that horn takes their place?”

Buzzer squinted through his shades at the feature in question. “Possible, Zartan me ol’ mate, possible. ‘ere now, what do you suppose that  one is about?”  The creature in question had walked a short distance towards the cowering Dreadnoks, and begun observing Ripper closely. Ripper shifted nervously. “I tell ya mates, I don’t like this one bit. Lookit that’n, what do you wanna bet ‘e’s measuring me fer the pot right now, eh? Why I’ll bet a year’s pay that… BLOODY ‘ELL!!!” The creature, supposedly satisfied with its examination, had burst into a column of bright, emerald green flame. Once the flames had dispersed, where had once stood some weird cross between a pony and an insect, now stood a perfect copy of Ripper, sans weapon. Suddenly, as though this were a signal, every single one of the creatures surrounding the Dreadnoks seemed to spontaneously combust, only to reappear as a near perfect copy of one of the bikers. At this point, the Dreadnoks were barely able to keep from throwing their weapons down and running. Ripper seemed especially affected by the spectacle, whimpering pitifully. 

“Bloody ‘ell mates, I told youse I had seen this one. Those liddle buggers are gonna suck out me brains and replace me. We’re dead mates, I’m tellin’ ya, we’re dead...” Zartan swung around and lashed out across Rippers face with a vicious backhand. “Shut your slobbering mouth numbskull, do you want to incite them to attack again? All you lot, cover me.” Buzzer looked at him incredulously. “Cover you? Wot, you going to attack them things on yore lonesome?!” Zartan smirked cruelly, never taking his eyes off the grinning doppelgangers surrounding them. “Not quite. Just thinking I’d have a word with them, one shape-shifter to another.” 

Dropping his rifle, Zartan took a few slow, careful paces out of the protective ring of weaponry. Moving forward until he was just out of touching distance to the first Ripper impersonator, he stood still for a moment, sneering into the questioning gaze of the copy before him. Then, his skin suddenly began to ripple and flash various colors, as the nano-machines that ran through his body began the process of changing his shape. All at once, his bipedal form seemed to melt together, and then, right before the shocked gazes of Dreadnok and alien alike, coalesced into a familiar form; one with four legs, tattered dragonfly wings, and a long, crooked horn sprouting from the center of his forehead. There was dead silence for a beat, and then a rippling wave of sibilant hisses spread like a pond ripple through the horde of alien shape-shifters. Once again transforming into their original bug-pony shapes, the crowd suddenly parted down the middle, allowing one of the creatures, taller again by half than any of its compatriots, to advance towards the transformed Zartan. Stopping scant feet from him, the tall creature looked Zartan up and down with clearly conflicted emotions flitting across its angular, fanged features.  Apparently finished with its examination, the creature suddenly spoke in a vibrating, sibilant tone as though there were many voices lingering just behind its own. 

“I am Chrysalis, Queen of the Changeling Hordes. Speak creature, and explain how you come to possess the ability of changing your shape, as though you were yourself a changeling.”

Still smirking, the transformed Zartan closed the remaining distance separating himself from the slightly taller shape-shifter before him. Looking her up and down insolently, Zartan suddenly shifted back into his original form, bringing him eye to eye with the self-proclaimed queen. “Well now, Queen Chrysalis, how I came about my little talent for mimicry is no one’s business but my own. I figured that little party trick might bring the head bug out to parley, and would you look at you? The Queen bee of this little hive herself.”

Chrysalis bared her fangs at a seemingly unfazed Zartan. “Watch your tone creature. If I so chose, my children could overwhelm you and your pitiful little band.”

Zartan seemed unaffected by this threat. “And yet, you haven’t yet. That tells me that you know just how many of you we could take down with us. And considering that I could simply take on, oh let’s just say,” here suddenly shifted once again into changeling form, this time forming a perfect copy of Chrysalis, voice and all “this form, I at least could escape and bring down my wrath upon you at my leisure.”

If being suddenly confronted by an apparently mirror image version of herself caused Chrysalis any discomfort, she was able to hide it masterfully. “True, creature. And yet, I have legions at my command. I sincerely doubt any retaliation you could command would succeed in defeating me, here within my own kingdom.” 

Zartan nodded with a grim smile, once again shifting into his human form. “Touché Queen Chrysalis. My compatriots however, have something you do not.” 

Now it was Chrysalis’ turn to smirk. “Oh? Pray tell, just what overwhelming advantage could you possible bring to bear against me?” 

Zartan took a step back. “Two things, oh Queen. First, allies with superior weapons. Second, the element of surprise.”  From the canyon walls above them, the sounds of rounds being chambered into high-powered rifles filtered down. Looking up, Chrysalis snarled as she realized that she and her guards were now surrounded by more of those tall bipeds with the sticks that spat fire and death. Returning her furious gaze to the creature that had somehow managed to outmaneuver her, she was enraged to discover that he was openly grinning at her. “That, my dear Queen, would be check and mate.”

Before Chrysalis could decide whether to retreat into her caves, or leap forward and tear the smirking biped’s face off, another of the two legged creatures strode into view from around the bend in the canyon wall. This one was dressed in what was obviously some sort of military uniform, with a silver face mask concealing its features. “Well done Zartan. You have managed to discover what took my Viper squad. How very intriguing.” 

Despite her earlier posturing, Chrysalis found herself struggling to keep from trembling. As a creature that survived by consuming the energy of emotion, she had by necessity become a master at reading creatures based on their emotions alone. While the previous creature had radiated arrogance spiced with a small measure of fear, this creature seemed to radiate malevolence. Hate, greed, rage, and a host of other negative emotions exuded from this creature in cold, roiling waves. Chrysalis was in no doubt; this was a creature that would happily see the universe itself burn so long as it was given what it wanted. Striding up until he was face to face with the barely trembling changeling queen, Cobra Commander chuckled darkly. 

“Well now, what shall we do with you?”
	
> Timey Wimey, Spacey Wacey
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Doctor had been known by many names by many people. He had lived over nine hundred years and used many different faces. He was The Oncoming Storm, The Destroyer of Worlds, and The Madman with a Blue Box. He was the last surviving Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey in the Constellation of Kasterborous. And he was sick and tired of being told he had the wrong number.

“Hallo? Hallo, yes, I’m trying to get in contact with a General Clayton Abernathy?”

“My apologies sir, but there is no military personnel by that name within my data banks.”

“What do you mean there’s no person by that name!? How in the name of Gallifrey’s red plains do you misplace an entire… hold on a minute. What did you say your name was again?”

“I am designated JARVIS, sir.”

“Jarvis, are you by any chance a robot?”

“I am an artificial intelligence, yes sir.”

“Ah, well never mind then, say hello to ol’ Tony-boy for me won’t you? There’s a good robot, A.I., thingie then.”

“Might I ask who is calling?”

”Heh, Who indeed, just tell the dear boy The Doctor called, he’ll know the one.”

”As you wish sir.”

Disconnecting the call, The Doctor took a moment to indulge in a rather creative bout of swearing in a mixture of Gallefreyin, English, and a lesser known dialect of Martian. Stumping his way across the TARDIS to the open door, he stared out into the void of space. Suspended between his TARDIS and the planet Equis below, the portal that the Cobra Helicarrier had ripped between universes seemed to shimmer with cascading rainbow colors. The Doctor gave a quiet snort. “Hmph! What is it with this universe and Rainbows?”

Turning his back on the pulsating anomaly, The Doctor returned to the TARDIS’ control column and began flicking random levers. In the time since he had dispatched Derpy to warn the ponies below, he had managed to stop the rip from growing larger. Only problem was that it wasn’t going away. There was still a massive tear in the fabric of the universe that if left unattended for even a moment, could destroy both this universe and the one that the intruders had come from originally. He frowned for just a moment at the scanner in front of him, and then abruptly turned back to the phone in an attempt to contact the world on the other side of the portal. 

“Hallo, Doctor speaking. Would it be possible to connect me with someone in charge of the GI Joes?”

Problem with that plan, that same portal was apparently opening up a few other universes as well, and causing all manner of interference with his communication attempts. 

“Sorry, did you say your name is Alfred Pennyworth?”

…

“No, no, there’s no need to put me in touch with the Justice Club, or League or whatever they’re calling themselves these days. Wrong number don’tcha know, dealing with a bit of a situation, nothing too serious. Yeah, take care of yourself old boy, and tell your friend in the black pajamas to take a day off every once in a while, yeah? Cheerio!”

…

“Hallo! General Hawk, name ring a bell?”

”EXTERMINATE!!!”

“WOOPS!! Wrong number, very, very, wrong number, bloody hell where is that fellow?”


Ten minutes later…


“General Abernathy speaking.”

“General! Fantastic, you would not believe the trouble I’ve been through trying to get in touch with you.”

“…Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“Oh, didn’t I say? Hallo, it’s me, The Doctor.”

“Not THE Doctor, by any chance?”

“One and the same my good sir.”

There was a noise on the other end of the line that sounded suspiciously like pills rattling in a plastic container.

“Oi! My last visit wasn’t that bad!”

“Doctor, the last time you visited, you dragged some of my best operatives on a harebrained mission through time and space.”[/I
]

“… Okay, so it was a bit hectic but really all the best adventures are, am I right?”

“Just get to the point Doctor.”

“Right, right, of course. Straight to the point as usual, typical military man. Makes me glad I don’t work for UNIT anymore and I’m rambling again.” 

“Doctor…”

“Right, sorry. Anyways,  have you by chance misplaced anything recently?”

“Misplaced?”

“Yes misplaced. Lost. Can’t find. Gone AWOL.”

“What do you know? Are Snake Eyes, Scarlett and the rest of their team with you?”

“Oh! So you’re missing some of your people too? Then that must mean…”

“Doctor! Are they with you?”

“Right, sorry, no. Well, at least not at the moment.”

“Well where are they?! Doctor, do you know something?”

“Best brace yourself General. You are not going to believe what I have to tell you…”
	
	
> No Place Like... Manehattan?!
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

        Finally finished with picking the various bits of unmentionables from his uniform, Tunnel Rat stared down at the unconscious body of the small horse. Although, “horse” might have been a slightly inaccurate descriptor considering the visible differences in form between the equines Tunnel Rat was familiar with, and the small creature that now lay before him. The head seemed almost comically oversized, with the similarly large eyes located on the front of the skull rather than on the sides. 

The creature was also much smaller than a standard equine, being somewhere between the size of a large cat and small dog. Also, while the body color wasn’t too unusual, being a chocolaty brown, no animal that Tunnel Rat knew of possessed pink hair and tail. All in all, Tunnel Rat finally decided, this poor creature had to be a genetic experiment that had escaped some lab where the scientists were seeking the next big thing in diabetes inducing pets. 
        
The Joe’s examination of the cute little abomination was cut short by the sound of shouting at the mouth of the alley.  With a last, lingering bemused glance back at the pony (for lack of a better descriptor), Tunnel Rat stepped to the mouth of the alley in order to discover just where the malfunctioning MASS device had deposited him. As he picked his way over and around the various piles of trash and detritus that littered the alley, the voices began to resolve into the confused clamor of a busy city street, with one voice raised above the rest as an unseen vendor hawked his wares. 

“Apples, get yer Apples here! Yer visit to the Big Apple ain’t complete without one of the most lip lickingest fruits you’ve ever had the pleasure of sinking yer teeth inta’! Come on folks, step right up!”

Tunnel Rat paused in his attempt to free his pants leg from a particularly grabby length of tangled wire. “Big Apple? Well, how’s that fer a kick in the head! My old stompin’ grounds!” 

Feeling considerably more chipper, he finished untangling himself and continued to pick his way to the mouth of the alley, chunnering happily to himself along the way.  “Nice of the ol’ snake-faces to drop me somewhere nice for a change. Maybe I’ll get to spend a few days home? Been an age since my last furlough, I’d love the chance to drop in on the old homestead and… surprise… everyone? Th’ hell?!” 

Tunnel Rat had finally found his way to the alley, only to discover that he was most certainly not in his hometown. Everywhere the wayward Joe looked, slightly larger versions of the unconscious creature he had encountered in the alley were dashing up and down crowded sidewalks, being towed by other small horses in rickshaws painted to resemble the taxicabs of his own New York, or buying and selling from small wheeled stands selling a staggering array of goods. 

Allowing his dumbfounded gaze to rise from street level, Tunnel Rat was once again gob smacked by the presence of even more of the little horse creatures, these equipped with wings swooping and darting from building to building like Technicolor pigeons. 

Once again shifting his gaze to the street, he dazedly noticed that every one of the little horses had manes, tails, and coats colored in every shade of the rainbow. “Like somethin’ outta a Lisa Frank painting”, the increasingly dazed demolitions expert muttered to himself. 

He likely would have continued to stand there, desperately trying to come to grips with the fantastical scene before him, had not a gruff voice accosted him from somewhere near his navel. 

“Hey, buddy. Ya gonna stand gawpin, or are ya gonna buy some apples?”   

Tearing his eyes with difficulty from the bustling cityscape, Tunnel Rat realized he had at some point drifted from the alley to the front of a small vendor’s cart, whose owner was now regarding him with a raised eyebrow. Swallowing thickly, the diminutive demolitions expert attempted to kick start his brain and make a halfway coherent reply. “What, ya mean me?” Okay, coherent maybe, but witty? Not so much. 

The vendor, a grizzled stallion with a mark of a dollar sign imposed over a wheel imprinted on his hindquarters, was staring at Tunnel Rat with an expression of barely concealed impatience. “Nah, I’m talkin’ to da lamppost behind ya’s. Who do ya think I was talkin’ to?!” 

Tunnel Rat was still trying to get his brain to reboot fully, and so could be forgiven for his slowness in replying. Forgiveness that was not forthcoming from the vendor, who could see a line forming behind this apparently slow in the head monkey… minotaur… thing. “Look buddy, either buy some apples, or get the hay outa da way. Yer blocking payin’ customers.” 

Absently reaching into his pocket, Tunnel Rat withdrew a handful of assorted coinage and dropped it on the cart in front of the increasingly annoyed looking vendor horse… pony… thing. “Er, is this enough fer two apples?” 

The vendor sorted through the pile of change on his counter for a moment, before turning a gimlet eye on the increasingly lost looking creature in front of him. “This some sorta joke? ‘less youse got somethin’ other then play money, I ain’t sellin’ youse diddly.” Than a crafty look came over the vendor’s face. “I might, however, be willin’ ta trade youse some apples in exchange fer dat nice liddle fruit peeler ya got tucked inta yer belt.” 

Reaching his hand back, Tunnel Rat withdrew his KA-BAR knife from its sheath. Glancing from it to the vendor a few times, he finally began to, if not accept the strange world he found himself in, then to at least resign himself to the fact that it was indeed real, he was not dreaming or drugged, and the little pony creature in front of him was willing to barter for some of the admittedly delicious looking apples drawn up in neat little rows around him. 

A small smile started to make its way across Tunnel Rat’s face, as he turned his attention back to an increasingly impatient fruit vendor. Expertly flicking the knife from hand to hand, he finally replied to the vendor’s question. “What, this liddle beauty? Sure, I could see me partin’ wid it in exchange fer, let’s say, a dozen apples?”

The vendor drew himself up into what was obviously a well-practiced show of indignation. “A dozen? Yer outa yer Celestia-blessed mind if youse think I’m gonna allow ya ta swindle me outa dozen of the most succulent of fruits fer that liddle piece of tin. I’ll give ya one fer it.” 

Quickly recognizing the game being played, Tunnel Rat adopted an air of offended dignity. “Liddle piece of tin? Liddle piece of tin?! Buster, you obviously couldn’t tell a quality tooled piece of art from a butterknife! You see the edge on this liddle beauty?”  Tunnel Rat swiftly rolled up his sleeve, and proceeded to carefully shave a small strip of hair from his forearm. “Razor sharp, and guaranteed to keep an edge no matter what ya cut wid it. So, how’s about ten of yer fruits, and we’ll call it a deal.” 

Stroking the stubble on his chin, the vendor made a show of carefully considering the offer, before finally shaking his head. “Nah, sorry. Apples dis good are hard to come by in dis city. I’ll tell youse what though, since you seem a nice enough weirdo, I’ll cut ya a break. Say five apples, and you t’row in dat sheath wit’ the knife.”

Tunnel Rat extended his hand. “Make it six and youse got yerself a bargain.”

Nodding once, the vendor slapped his hoof into Tunnel Rat’s hand and shook twice. “It’s a done deal, my strange lookin’ friend.” Quickly bagging a half dozen of the bright red fruits, he passed the parcel over to Tunnel Rat before pausing to admire his new apple peeler. 




        Babs’ return to consciousness was a languid, gentle process. First, she became aware of the fact that wherever she had dozed off at, was composed of hard, cool concrete. Secondly, ow, concrete absolutely sucked as bedding material. Seriously, just how tired had she been in order for her to just doze off… oh, that’s right. The events of the day slowly began trickling back as she slowly began regaining her mental clarity. 

Hugging her dad goodbye, a brief moment of happiness as she called the fifth meeting of the Manehattan Cutie Mark Crusaders to order, the fear and anger as she fled the bullies who had jumped her as soon as she was alone, and finally the gut-wrenching fear as that… thing had arisen from the depths of the alleyways garbage barrels like a miniature Ponyzilla. 
        
No sooner had this final thought went through Babs’ head, than a loud, wet crunch rang out through the alley. Babs instantly went completely stiff, not even daring to breath, as what was unmistakably the sounds of somepony (or something) messily devouring something echoed off the walls of the office buildings she was currently lying between. Babs bit her lip, as her nerves began firing in a desperate attempt to prepare her to once again run for her life from the unholy monster that was surely now devouring what was left of the 12th Street Sluggers. She suppressed a shudder; nopony, no matter how despicable, deserved to be ripped apart and eaten by a Garbage Monster.

 Slowly, Babs began to roll over in an attempt to get her hooves beneath her in preparation for her second run-for-her-life that day. The sloppy crunching sounds abruptly cut off, as a voice with a thick Bucklin accent spoke out boisterously. “Well, good morning sleepy head! I was t’inking youse wasn’t ever gonna wake up”. 

        Letting out her breath in a great whoosh, Babs nearly laughed in relief. There was no strange monster in the alley with her, it was just another pony who was apparently crunching his way through an apple. Golden Delicious if her nose was anything to go by, and Babs suddenly was acutely aware of just how long it had been since she had had lunch. 

Still wearing her relived grin, she began to turn around to acknowledge the colt who had apparently decided to continue with his interrupted snack. “Well, it wasn’t like I was planning on just takin’ a nap, see there was this weird monster…” And Babs Seed suddenly found herself completely tongue-tied. Seated with his back to the wall, a tall, gangly creature was sloppily chewing his way through an apple with obvious delight. 

With no visible fur to speak of, the creature was clad in a set of green pants and shirt, with a matching green bandana wrapped around its head. Belts hung all around his shoulders and waist, covered with a dizzying amount of pouches and other, more mysterious items. What looked like an overly long crossbow stock with its bow missing was slung from a strap across its back, while the creature’s pants were covered in pockets bulging with even more unknown items. 

It was gripping the apple with a five digit appendage that reminded Babs of Princess Twilight’s baby dragon’s claws, only rounded and soft looking. Its face was a light shade of tan, with small, slightly slanted eyes bearing dark green irises which seemed to twinkle as though their bearer had heard a private joke that only he got. 

        As Babs continued to gaze with a comically gob smacked expression, Tunnel Rat finished his apple and fished out a second. Hesitating as he prepared to bite into what was, hands down, the best piece of fruit he had ever tasted, Tunnel Rat waved one of his hands in front of the little horse’s seemingly unresponsive face. “Yo, liddle horsie? Youse ok?” Suddenly giving a full body shudder, the small creature seemed to come to life again. “Uh, yeah, sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

Tunnel Rat sat back, apparently satisfied that his guest wasn’t injured in anyway. “Well, ya was just sittin’ there, thought ya mighta been hurt or sumpin’”. 

Babs nodded, than fixed the displaced Joe with a narrow-eyed gaze. “Ok, so we’ve established I’m jus’ fine. Now, what the hay are you? Youse ain’t no pony, an’ I never seen a minotaur without any horns or fur before. Ya kinda look like sum’ kinda monkey or sumpin’.”

Taking an overly large bite of his snack, Tunnel Rat took a moment to examine the, quite frankly, adorable creature sitting before him. Restraining himself before he reached out to pet its ears, he busied himself with the last of his second apple before he answered the filly’s question. “Well, I ain’t no monkey, dat’s fer sure, and I thought minotaurs was sumpin’ outa a myth. Course, I thought da same thing about unicorns and pegasuses too. Wassa’ matta’, never seen a human before?”

Babs shook her head in an empathetic negative. “Nah, nevah heard of no hyoomans before. Where are youse from, anyhow? It must be sumplace far off for ya to not know about unicorns and Pegasi.” The emphasis on the correct plural usage for the winged horsed he witnessed earlier went right over Tunnel Rats head, as he happily  plucked a third apple from his pocket and set about demolishing it with gusto. “Yeah those. Nope, never seen one outside ‘a picture book.” 

Tossing the remains of the apple core into a nearby barrel, he was just about to start on his fourth when he noticed the small pony’s hungry gaze fixed on the fruit. 

Hesitating a moment, he slowly extended the apple towards Babs. “Hungry? Don’t mind sharin’.”

Hesitating for just a moment, Babs finally crept forward cautiously and lifted the apple out of the… Hyooman’s claws(?) and set about demolishing the succulent treat. “ ‘tanks, mister Hyooman! Nothin’ like a Sweet Apple Acres Golden!”

Tunnel Rat couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he watched Babs enjoy the apple. “No prob kid, but Human is jus’ what I am. Youse can call Tunnel Rat, or just T-Rat if yer feeling chummy.”

Slurping the last of the apple juice from her lips, Babs smiled back at the odd yet friendly creature before her. “Ok mister Tunnel Rat, I’m Babs Seed. You can call me Babs if ya want though.”




        A few minutes (and apples) later, Tunnel Rat and Babs were slowly making their way up a bustling thoroughfare, both taking turns to regale each other with tales of their home-worlds. The topic currently being discussed; government.

“So… ya got two princesses?”

“Uh-huh”

“And they control the Sun and Moon?”

“Sure do!”

“… pull the other one.”

“Cross my heart an’ hope ta fly!”

Tunnel Rat pulled his bandanna off long enough to run his fingers through his hair in exasperated disbelief. “But, how?! I’m no science geek, but even I know the sun is a giant exploding ball a’ gas, while the moon is a giant space rock. They must weigh, oh I dunno, a gazillion tons apiece!”

Babs shrugged her shoulders as she gamely trotted along after her longer legged companion. “Dunno how they do it, but the princesses are jus’ about the most magicalist ponies ever. They can jus’ about do whatevah they want!”

Tunnel Rat slowed his pace to allow Babs to catch up, before resuming his course up the sidewalk. “Still though, making the frikken sun and moon rise and set? Un-freaking-believable. And it’s always been that way?”

Babs nodded as she put on a quick burst of speed to get back in her leading position as guide. “Uh-huh, just about always! Well, almost always. My history teacher says that before Princess Celestia and Luna were around, the sun and moon was controlled by a bunch’a unicorns all working together like”. 

A short silence, than Babs looked up at Tunnel Rat. “So who’s in charge a’ the sun an’ moon an’ weather where yer from?”

Tunnel Rat stopped to allow a pony leading a dog almost larger than she was to pass, before absently picking up his pace to the point that his diminutive companion was forced to almost run to keep up. “Ain’t no-one controls those things, they just kinda happen all natural like, ya’ know?”

Babs huffed and puffed her way up alongside him. “Nah, I don’t know. Sounds all crazy and weird ta me.” 

Finally noticing how hard it was for the filly to keep up with him, Tunnel Rat suddenly reached down and scooped her up to his shoulder, wincing as her surprised squeal went off right beside his ear. Babs caught her breath, and shot a sideways glare at her new mount. “Ya coulda warned me, ya know.”

Tunnel Rat grinned cheekily back at her. “Yeah, and as slow as youse was moving, we’d a’ never got to yer house ‘for I died a’ old age.” Ignoring his passenger’s indignant huffs, he paused at a street crossing as one of the yellow taxi/rickshaws rolled past. “Speakin’ of weird an’ crazy, how come nobody’s freakin’ over the fact that they got a dude from another planet walkin’ around?”

Babs shrugged slightly. “Manehattan has a pretty good mix a’ strange runnin’ around already. I mean, we got one’a the biggest harbors in the country, an’ that attracts a lotta different creatures. I guess after a while, us Manehattanites have jus’ about seen it all, capice?” 

Tunnel Rat watched as a griffon stalked imperiously past, while a minotaur sipped tea from a ridiculously small cup at a street-side café. “Okay, sure, guess that makes sense.” He shook his head. “Man, if it don’t remind me of New York all the more.” 

Babs could detect a small measure of sadness in that last statement. Reaching her hoof up, she began to pat Tunnel Rat’s head in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. “That’s the name of yer hometown, right?” 

Tunnel Rat nodded, before a small smile tugged at his face. “Yeah. Wanna know somethin’ funny though?” At the filly’s eager nod, he continued with a short chuckle. “The other name for New York, is Manhattan.”

At first Babs didn’t get it, but then her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Wait-a-minute! Manehattan, Manhattan? They almost sound tha’ same!”

Tunnel Rat continued to chortle. “Yeah, weird right? It’s like someone took the name, and stuck a horse pun to the front.” 

Babs shot an unamused frown at Tunnel Rats ear. Okay, so he couldn’t see it, but it was the thought that counts, right? 

“Oh yeah? Well, what if it’s the other way around, huh? Maybe some hooman heard the name, and decided it was so awesome that they wanted a version for themselves, and were just too unoriginal ta make up a name on their own!” 

Tunnel Rat shook his head, eyes glinting as he took in Babs’ indignant look. “Nah, obviously you liddle horsies took the name from us humans!” 
        
Thus went the rest of the trip to Babs’ apartment, with both Joe and pony bickering good-naturedly at each other over whatever subject came to mind, both learning more and more fascinating things about the other’s respective worlds. Babs was captivated by the tales Tunnel Rat told of his adventures with the GI Joe team (watered down of course), while Tunnel Rat was continually fascinated and delighted by Babs’ stories of her magical world and the little adventures she and her friends and family had encountered. 

        Tunnel Rat was once more struck by how similar this city was to his own once they actually made it to Babs home. Her apartment complex, while well maintained, showed obvious signs of age and weather-wearing. The building itself was hemmed in by two larger office buildings, one of which proclaimed itself the office of ‘Gavel and Sons, Attorneys at Law’, while the other had a massive billboard adorning its front with ‘Flim’n’Flam, Inc.’ in flamboyant font, while smaller type listed the building as the headquarters for the ‘Future of Equestria, Today’. 

Babs peered back at where Tunnel Rat stood, noticing the melancholy look on his face as he surveyed the property. 

“’ey, ya all right?”

Tunnel Rat shook himself out of his brooding long enough to answer the worried looking filly. He smiled down at where she stood, waiting in front of the buildings entrance. “Yeah, I’m fine. S‘jus’… I grew up in an apartment just like this one. Heck, my folks are still living there. Was really looking forward to seeing them again.” 

Babs was once again struck by the sadness evident in the Joe’s voice. “Are ya afraid you’ll never see ‘em again?”

Tunnel Rat folded his arms with a frown. “Nah, I been in tougher spots then this, and I’ve always come home in the end. Jus’, ya know, never been on a whole different planet before. Guess, maybe, I am a little worried, hell, a lot worried.”

Babs thought for a moment, then coming to a decision, trotted down the walkway to where Tunnel Rat stood, and placed a comforting hoof against his leg. “I know’s exactly how ya feel. My Pop works as a fisherpony, so he’s gone a lot. Every time there’s a storm, I worry that I’ll never see him again.” 

Tunnel Rat noticed there was something missing from Babs’ statement. “What about yer mom?” He watched as she drew a deep breath before answering.

“Mom died right after I wus born. Pop says she got real sick after she had me, and the doctors couldn’t do nothing.” 

Tunnel Rat knelt down to place a comforting hand on the filly’s shoulder. She stiffened in surprise for a moment, before relaxing slightly. “I’m sorry. Musta’ been rough, I shouldn’t have said nothin’.” 

Babs squirmed out from under Tunnel Rat’s hand, shaking herself convulsively. “Nothin’ ta be sorry for. I don’t remember her, it was too long ago, an’ Pop takes care of me jus’ fine.” 

She moved off towards the front entrance once more, this time with the Joe close behind her. There was silence for a beat, as the duo made their way up a flight of stairs, and began moving down a door lined hallway. As the end of the hallway approached, Tunnel Rat finally dared to pick up the conversation where they had left off.

“Sooo, yer daddy’s a fisherpony, and I’m guessing that means he’s out at sea fer weeks at a time, amiright?” He paused just long enough to allow Babs to give a confirming nod, before continuing his question. “So who takes care of ya in the meantime?” Babs immediately grimaced as though she had taken a bite out of the world’s largest lemon.

“I can take care of myself jus’ fine! I don’t need nopony looking over my shoulder, especially not…” 

“Baaaaabsy!!!” There was a strident screech from behind the pair, something that Tunnel Rat wouldn’t have found out of place if it was used as an air-raid siren. 
Whipping around in shock (and some auditory pain) Tunnel Rat had to restrain himself from drawing his sidearm to protect himself from whatever unholy abomination had snuck up on them. 

Rather than the eldritch horror he was half expecting, he instead found himself staring down at a lumpy looking unicorn mare in the most eye-searingly clashing fur and mane coloration; neon yellow on puke green, with the mane sculpted into a towering mass that Tunnel Rat would have bet money on being more hair product than actual hair. 
She was currently peering at them through coke-bottle eyeglasses set in bright pink frames, while enormous gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears. After hesitating just long enough for both Joe and pony to size each other up, the mare waddled her large frame down the hallway in a surprising turn of speed for one so rotund, and swept Babs up into a bone crushing hug before she could make good her escape. Babs tried to struggle for a beat, then simply slumped as if admitting defeat. 

“Good afternoon Aunt Penny Wise.”

The walking eyesore now identified as Penny Wise set Babs down, only to latch onto both cheeks and squish. “Ooooooohhhhhhhh, Babsy where have you beeeen! I was worried sick! You weren’t out fighting again, were you?! Oooh, you’ll be the death of me yet, you liddle rapscallion!”

Babs struggled to free her face from her overly affectionate aunt, with limited success. Her answer, when it came, was slightly distorted as it struggled to escape between pinched cheeks. “Aunt Penny! I’m fine, no fights! Please leggo my face before it falls off!” 

Aunt Penny managed to get in one more squeeze and a sloppy smooch before Babs twisted her way free. “Oooohhh, thank Celestia! I absolutely hate when you come home all covered in scratchs’n’scrapes’bruises!”

“Aunt Penny!” Babs scrubbed at her face with the back of her hoof, her brown cheeks blazing with the embarrassment known by children with crazy relatives across dimensions. “Don’t do dat! I ain’t no liddle baby no more ya know!”

Her overpowering aunt naturally ignored her niece’s mortification, and was by now completely fixated on a sniggering Tunnel Rat. “Ooooh honey, who’s the handsome hunk what followed ya home?” Tunnel Rat’s sniggers suddenly transformed into a choking gurgle, as the suddenly predatory Aunt Penny was now attempting a seductive sashay in his general direction. 

“Aunt Penny!” Babs interposed herself between an increasingly nervous Tunnel Rat and her smitten relative. “His name’s Tunnel Rat, an’ I’m jus’ helpin’ him find his way around. He’s… not from around here, see?”

By now Tunnel Rat was backed into a corner of the hallway, watching in horror as an increasingly flirtatious unicorn sized him up like he was a choice cut of beef. He found himself frantically wondering if he had packed any flash-bangs in his load-out, or if a smoke bomb would be enough to distract the walking modern art masterpiece long enough for him to jump out the window. 

“Ooooohhhhh, so a foreigner eh? How… exotic.” This with an exaggerated swipe of a tongue across her lip. By now Tunnel Rat had abandoned any plan to use non-lethal force, and was ready to go right to the fragmentation grenades. 

“AUNT PENNY!!!!” Babs finally managed to get her aunt’s attention before Tunnel Rat fell victim to a definitely unwelcome close encounter with an alien life form. “I jus’ wanna give ‘im a place to crash fer the night, then I’m taking him ta Ponyville wit’ me tomorrow so’s I can ask Princess Twilight and Cousin Applejack ta help find his friends. So quit wit’ the googly eyes, yer scarin’ him!”

Thankfully, the filly’s flirtatious relative finally seemed to take a hint, and withdrew from Tunnel Rats personal space. She cast one last smoky glance in the now quivering human’s direction, before turning her gaze back to her increasingly frustrated niece. “Ponyville? Absolutely not young filly, I won’t have no niece of mine gallivanting off to no Podunk wit’out proper adult supervision.” 

Babs immediately bristled. “I jus’ said, I ain’t a baby no more! I can take care of myself jus’ fine, an’ besides, I won’t be goin’ alone, Tunnel Rat will be with me.”

Aunt Penny shook her head, her outrageous mane style and hoop earrings swinging erratically with the motion. “No, no I’m putting my hoof down. You is a young filly what needs responsible adult supervision, an’ I just don’t feel right lettin’ you go off on your own. Besides,” and she turned once more to Tunnel Rat, a disturbing gleam in her eye, “it’s not often such a handsome, exotic, young buck jus’ drops inta my lap.” 

She resumed her advance on the hapless Joe, once more licking her lips as though in anticipation of a particularly fine meal. Tunnel Rat was growing increasingly nervous, and decided it was past time for him to take steps to escape what was progressively becoming an out of control situation. 

“Ma’am, I’m flattered, really, but I really don’t have time fer this. I’m sure yer a very nice horsey… pony… unicorn… lady, but I need to find the rest of my team. It’s a matter of” and he cast his eyes desperately to where Babs was standing, pantomiming urgently, “Equestrian Security!” Babs nodded enthusiastically. 
“Yeah! Equestrian Security, I’m a super special agent tasked wit’ a matter of… super special secrecy, an’ stuff, an’ yer niece was kind enough ta offer me a place to lay low until I can continue my mission.” 

If that explanation was meant to discourage the increasingly amorous Penny Wise, it failed. Gloriously. The portly unicorn sucked in a shocked breath, her eyes going wide with excitement. “OOOOOOHHHHHHH, ya mean yer like, a spy?!” 

Tunnel Rat shifted his weight nervously, wondering if the narrow hallway had enough clearance for him to leap over Aunt Penny and allow him to escape, or if jumping out the window was still the safer bet. He settled for slowly inching his way down the hall, his back pressed firmly against the wall in an attempt to slip by. “Yeah, sure, we’ll go wit’ that.”

Penny stepped a little closer, the exited gleam in her eyes changing to something slightly manic. “A real, honest to Celestia secret agent, right here in my apartment! Oh, don’t you worry yore cute little head about a place to stay, I’m sure Babs has homework or somethin’ to keep her occupied. Why don’t you an’ me pop over to my pad for some, refreshments, hmmm?” 

Tunnel Rat swallowed hard, then, screwing all his courage firmly to the sticking place, knelt down so that he was at Penny’s eye level. He took a deep breath. Sean Connery, don’t fail me now. “My dear Penny Wise. As much as I yearn to accept your most generous offer, enemies of the crown conspire without rest, and so must I too travel without ceasing until my mission is complete. I’m afraid your niece has seen too much, and must come with me to report to my superiors, for her own safety.”

The neon mare’s eyes widened. “Her safety? Mister Rat, you don’t mean…”

Tunnel Rat nodded gravely. “I’m afraid so. If she stays here, a fate worse than death awaits.” Not true, but judging by the gagging motions Babs was making, it would at least save her from an overbearing relative. Suppressing a grin at her antics, Tunnel Rat turned back to an increasingly star-struck Aunt Penny. “So, she will be coming wit’ me to meet up with the rest of my unit in Ponyville.” 

Aunt Penny hesitated a beat, then nodded her head decisively. “Alright, then jus’ lemme pack a bag. I’m comin’ along.” 

“NO!!!” 

Aunt Penny jumped at the desperate shout from both Babs and Tunnel Rat, and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Wadda ya mean, ‘no’? No niece o’ mine is going off on her own, not wit’ her darling daddy off at sea fer the foreseeable future.”

Tunnel Rat desperately began casting about for a way to keep the obviously smitten equine as far away from him as humanly possible. An endeavor, thankfully, that he was assisted in by Babs’ timely intervention.

“Here’s the thing Aunt Penny. As much as me an’ Tunnel Rat would jus’ love ta have youse accompany us, we need someone here to warn us if’n any enemy agents come snoopin’ around.”

Aunt Penny’s eyes widened. “Enemy… Agents?!!!!”

Tunnel Rat simultaneously winced at the decibal range Aunt Penny was capable of, and shot Babs a grateful look. ”Yeah, that’s right, Enemy Agents. Jus’, look fer anyone snoopin’ around that has a picture of a snake on ‘em, acting suspicious like, see? Then youse can contact me an lemme know what youse finds out.”

Aunt Penny nodded vigorously, once more putting her outrageous hair-do in peril of collapse. “You can count on me, Agent McDreamy. If I see’s so much as a whisper o’ trouble, I’ll hop the firs’ train ta Ponyville an’…” Tunnel Rat interrupted desperately.

“Nononono, too dangerous. Jus’, um, use,…” he fumbled through his pockets desperately, finally withdrawing a small radio unit from a pouch on his belt. “… use this! Yeah, it’s somethin’ youse can use ta contact me if you see anythin’ suspicious, see? Oh, an’ it can only be used once, so youse have ta save it fer an emergency, K?”

Aunt Penny looked momentarily crestfallen at the news she couldn't use the unit to contact Tunnel Rat anytime she wanted, before brightening back up at the prospect of living one of her spy novels. Babs in the meantime had slipped into the apartment she shared with her father, returning with a set of bulging saddle bags strapped to her flanks. 

Now prepared, and with Aunt Penny successfully distracted, Tunnel Rat and Babs were able to make good their escape into the outside world. Once they had managed to get to a safe distance, Tunnel Rat turned his slightly panicked gaze to his diminutive companion. “Babs, what the actual hell!?”

Babs winced, and looked sheepishly up at the traumatized Joe. “Yeah, sorry about that. That was my Pop’s sister, she owns the apartment building and lets me an’ Pop stay fer a discount on rent. I love her, but yeah, she will hit on jus’ about anything that moves. Pop says it’s got somethin’ ta do wit’ some sorta clock runnin’ down, and Aunt Penny wantin’ foals of her own.”

Tunnel Rat gave a full body shudder, nearly causing him to walk into a street light. Dodging the pole just in time, he trotted to catch back up to Babs, a horrifying thought causing him to hesitantly address his traveling partner once more. “So, the rest of yer family aren’t, er, ya know, like yer aunt are they? I’m not gonna have ta worry about this cousin Applejack kidnapping me or nothin’, am I?”

Babs snorted a short giggle. “Nah, Cousin Applejack is as level headed as they come, an’ you’ll like Cousin Applebloom. She’s about my age, so’s youse don’t have ta’ worry about catchin’ no cooties from her.” She pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “Although, ya might wannna watch out fer Cousin Applejack’s friend Pinkie Pie. She’s a liddle… different. She may wanna throw youse a party when she meets you, but she won’t hurt ya none.”

Tunnel Rat breathed a sigh of relief, noticing they were rapidly approaching what looked like a train station from early 20th century Earth. After Babs obtained tickets from a mustachioed stallion behind a counter, and they had both settled into seats near the rear of the train, Babs nervously brought up a question that had been bothering her since their escape from her aunt’s clutches. 

“So, ya warned Aunt Penny ta look out fer anything wit’ a snake picture. Youse was talking about that Cobra bunch, right? The ones you an’ yer friends are always havin’ ta fight?” Tunnel Rat nodded somberly. Babs swallowed, and then continued. “Ya don’t think they followed you from yer planet, do ya?”

Tunnel Rat stared out the window at the ponies rushing up and down the station platform for a moment, before turning back to Babs with a worried expression. “Babs, I’m not gonna lie ta ya. I hope that bunch a’ creepazoids took a wrong turn an’ wound up in the sun, but if I made it here okay, then they might have too.” 

Babs shivered slightly, her worry increasing at Tunnel Rat’s gloomy words. “I hope they didn’t come. They sound scarier than changelings, dragons, an’ Discord all rolled inta’ one.”

Tunnel Rat blinked. “Discord? That’s the guy what’s supposed ta be reformed an’ working fer yer princesses now, right?”

Babs nodded, her expression wary. “Yeah, the newspapers say he’s good now, but I dunno. He didn’t come ta Manehattan the firs’ time he broke out, but Applebloom told me stories about what he did ta Ponyville an’ her friends an’ family. I jus’ don’t trust the creep.”

Tunnel Rat looked back out the window, as with a screech of metal the train finally got under way. “That’s why I wanna find the rest of my team ASAP. I won’t feel right until I know we’re all okay an’ ready fer whatever Cobra or this crazy world has ta throw at us.”

Babs started to nod, but then stopped and shot Tunnel Rat an indignant look. “Hey! Watch what yer callin’ crazy, yer world don’t even have magic!”

Tunnel Rat snorted. “An’ that’s my point. Magic! I feel as though I’m in some sorta kiddie book! Magic horses what raise an’ set the freakin’ moon an’ sun, unicorns, pegasi, freakin’ weather control?! Gimme’a’break!”

Babs crossed her forehooves snootily. “No crazier than a world where weather jus’ happens! Discord would love yer world, sounds like chaos twenty-four seven!”

Tunnel Rat shuddered. He noticed he’d been doing that a lot today. “Don’t even joke like that! I’ll take unexpected rainshowers over some freaking Lord an’ Master of Chaos what turns the world right the hell upside down jus’ fer a giggle!”

And thus the remainder of the trip went, with both human and filly joking, laughing, and telling stories of their respective worlds and friends, as the sun set on what would come to be known as the most pivotal day the planet would know since the return of Nightmare Moon, and her subsequent defeat at the hooves of six unlikely friends. 

The equally unlikely duo continued to bond, not knowing what awaited them at their journey’s end, nor how vital their various friendships would be in the days to come.