> Mass Effect: Salvage
>  by N00813
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1
Note: All units have been translated to Earth standard units.
--
War profiteering has already begun. – Dr. Liara T’Soni, 2186 CE
--
“Have either of you heard of the Great Rift of Klendagon?” the asari asked, leaning back in her chair. A slight smile played on her lips. She couldn’t have been more than 200 years old, with her cerulean skin and slight build.

Both of her companions nodded from across the table, in the dimly lit interior of the corvette. Most of the ship’s power had been transferred to the element zero cores and the fusion drive in order to speed up their journey, and so, only one weak light shone down on the three. The krogan, an 8ft tall armored reptilian biped, kept silent. The turian, a slightly shorter avian, sighed. “Yes, Riana, but what's that got to do with this planet we're going to?”

Riana sighed, and then clasped her hands together. “The Great Rift was the result of an impact from a mass accelerator round. The weapon itself was ancient – 37 million years old – and, most importantly, it’s close to this system. But the weapon is defunct – in fact, we’re not here for the weapon at all.”

At this point the krogan looked up from cleaning his Striker assault rifle. The yellow, scaly hide on his fingers were slick with a mixture of oil and dirt.

Riana smiled. “That weapon was massive. Ground-based, multi-kilometer long induction motor. Of course, the larger the station the more resources you need to keep it running. Fuel, maintenance, you know?”

The turian piped up again, leaning forwards conspiratorially. Under the weak light, his dark carapace turned his face into a pool of shadow. “37 million years isn’t kind to buildings. They’d be dust by now. Or collapsed. Crushing everything inside.”

At this, Riana smiled thinly. “Normally you’d be right, Levin. Not this time. When I got pictures of the weapon, it looked, well, not too bad. A bit dusty, but that’s it. I had the images verified by three different specialists. Thing is, whatever material they used doesn’t degrade easily.”

Levin raised one eye-plate. "I really hope you're right."

After making a quick gesture, he pushed himself away from the table and walked over to the cockpit.

This time, the krogan spoke. “What are we looking for?” His deep baritone voice would have made his speech nearly incomprehensible, were it not for the translator chip in Riana’s omni-tool.

“Resources. Old relics, old tech, some refined eezo at the very least. I’ve cross-referenced every piece of info on and off the extranet and I’ve narrowed the location of a large ship-base to this system. Could even be homeworld. Trust me Sev, I’m thorough.”

Eezo, or element zero, was a rare material formed under the energy of a supernova. By passing electric current through it, mass could increase or decrease in a localized field.

“And no one has thought of this before you?” Sev asked, snapping his weapon back together.

“We’re deep in the Perseus Veil. To anyone else, it’s geth space. Grudges run old. To us it’s a goldmine.” She leant back again, to observe his reaction. There was none.

Sev chuckled. “If I had a credit for every time …”

Levin’s voice over the intercom interrupted the conversation. “We’re here.”

The three walked over to the cockpit “window”. Because actual windows were sources of weakness in spaceships, cameras were linked to the outside of the hull to relay images back to the crew members on the ship. In essence, the “windows” were large, very high resolution screens.

Riana and Sev met up with Levin, who was in the pilot’s seat. Levin was engrossed in some holographic display that the other two could not decipher.

The view of the window shifted from pitch black to a depiction of a star system as the ship decelerated to under light speed. The star was a small orange sun, seemingly in its early middle ages. There was only two planets; a stereotypical garden world with one fairly large moon, and a gas giant out in a further orbit. Riana could immediately see a connection between this system and the human homeworld system of Sol. All that was different was the lack of a few planets – and humans.

The corvette maneuvered between the moon and the planet, in order to start the scanning process. With the basic scanner on this ship, Riana could look forwards to hours of looking at a console display for telltale spikes and anomalies in terrain structure. Even in this age of faster-than-light travel, planet scanning was still so slow...

Sev had turned away whilst Riana was admiring the view, and was in the process of checking all of his armor and weapons. His companions’ gear was their own responsibility. He grunted as the ship suddenly shook under and around him, and he held the weapon bench to steady himself. Piece of shit ship. “The fuck?” he yelled to the cockpit.

Levin neglected to answer. His smile vanished as soon as no less than five warning lights flashed up on the display. He skimmed the warnings. High mass field. EEZO core compensating. Power loss to main engines. A-grav disabled. Shielding at 12% power – CRITICAL. Shit. Well, nice knowing you, universe.

The three of them could feel themselves becoming weightless instantly as the mass effect field in the flooring disappeared. Levin was strapped to his seat, so he didn't notice a thing, but Riana had to grasp at the console in front of her to keep herself upright. Sev pushed himself against the wall as the fluids in both his stomachs tried to enter his esophagus.

And then everything went back to normal. The whole ordeal must have only been around 5 to 10 seconds. The ship returned power to auxiliary systems and Riana and Sev both crashed downwards, onto the floor. “The fuck!” Sev roared.

“We must have triggered something,” Levin replied, still jittery from the adrenaline flooding his bloodstream. “The quicker we finish this the better.”

Sev quickly encased himself in his hard-suit, eager to put another barrier between himself and space. Riana rebooted the scanner module – then frowned, and glanced at Levin. “Is the scanner OK?”

“There are no problems with it, if that’s what you want to know," Levin said, and then he paused. "At least that’s what it says. The mass field could have messed with the electronics. I’ll have to go down and calibrate them again.” He pushed himself up from the seat, and disappeared down a crawlspace into the maintenance areas of the ship.

Sev glanced at Riana and shrugged. He probably wouldn’t understand what was wrong anyways. His job was to provide security and muscle, not to take care of the ship or to pore over graphs. Those were Levin’s and Riana’s jobs respectively.

Levin popped back up. Or, more specifically, his head did. “Scanner was working when I got to it. It didn’t look broken. What did you see?”

“If it’s not broken, the planet must be made of eezo. Look at this!” She gestured to the projected holographic display. Eezo radiation readings spiked off the charts, and the interference, even at this range, scattered artifacts amongst the image.

Levin turned to peer at the console screen, and let loose a slow, bird-like whistle. "Sev, prep the shuttle."

Sev nodded and walked into the cargo bay.

-&-

“I’ve sent you the co-ordinates,” Riana said as she and Levin clambered into the shuttle. Sev glanced back from his seat in the cockpit – both of them were clad in lightly armored, environmentally sealed suits. Sev flicked a switch and the shuttle’s side-door slung downwards, sealing the three in.

“What was all that upstairs about?” Sev rumbled. He started up the shuttle’s systems and disconnected it from the repair dock. The pilot’s console lit up in a sea of orange.

“Ridiculously high eezo radiation readings. Mass anomalies. You’d expect those kinds of readings off of a neutron star, not a planet. Still, anything’s possible,” Riana said. Levin nodded in agreement.

“So the ships are dust. Along with their tech, artifacts and whatever valuable shit they had.” Sev shrugged.

“The eezo itself is still worth a lot of cash.”

Got to agree with that, Sev thought.

“Not scared of pirates, Levin?” Sev asked as he ran pre-flight checks. Nothing wrong.

“This deep in the Veil? I’m surprised they think we’re still alive. Besides, no one would be stupid enough to attack a warship – even a small one.” Levin’s voice betrayed a sense of smugness, even though his face did not change. Sev noticed his mandibles flicking.

Actually, I’m not sure whether turians can smile. Their faces are too inflexible…

“How’d you manage to get past the geth?”

“Long story. Involves some ops I used to do during the war.”

Sev snorted, but didn’t press for more. He piloted the shuttle into the airlock. The three could hear the muffled clunk of the inner door sealing, then a low whoosh as the pumps sucked air out of the chamber. Then silence.

Sev looked out of the black strip that served as the window. The outer door was open. He nudged the throttle and cleared the immediate vicinity of the ship, then turned until he could see the planet through the window.

Typical garden world. Water and life. Probably hostile life. Some things never change.

He looked back to the passenger compartment. “Are you sure you want to come? Eezo’s mutagenic. Get any of that in you, you’re probably dead. Hell, definitely dead, this far out.”

Both of the passengers looked at him and then one another. “Sealed suits. We won’t take them off.”

“Your lives, not mine.”

Sev turned back to the pilot console and directed the shuttle to the specified co-ordinates. Then, he turned back and watched the corvette hanging in orbit behind them, becoming as small as one of the stars in the sky as the shuttle hit the stratosphere.

-&-

“At approximately midnight today, I felt a disturbance in the sky. A magical disturbance. This coincided with the appearance of that, that thing up there. I don’t know what it is, but we should take necessary precautions.” Celestia paused, then closed her eyes and sighed. So soon after the invasion. Lucky us. She took a deep breath to quell her rising anger. Getting angry won’t help anypony. “General, prepare a detachment of guards to meet our guests. Meet Princess Luna in the observatory. She’s been tracking them all day. She can tell you where to go. The Elements of Harmony will be waiting for you in Ponyville. We may need all the help we can get.”

The general nodded, saluted and then walked out of the room, closing the door after him. Celestia glanced at the door, and then shifted her gaze to the nearby window. There, in the sky. A speck of black against the reddish-pink of sunset.

“We do live in interesting times,” she muttered.

She started to compose a letter.

-&-

“Scanners?”

“Eezo radiation is too high. Any high-def scanners are going haywire. Thermal shows signs of wildlife.”

“So we’re flying into an unknown world blind.”

“It’s your expedition. Second thoughts?”

Riana paused at Sev’s question. “No.”

Sev 'hmm'ed in response. He turned back to see out of the window. The shuttle was breaching cloud cover—

The shuttle shook. The three could hear the sound of the hull scraping against something, and then they were clear.

“Careful with my shuttle. I paid for that,” Levin deadpanned.

“Then you drive.” Sev made to get out of the pilot’s seat and went into the passenger compartment, then strapped himself down into one of the seats. Meanwhile Levin had already maneuvered into the cockpit and started to buckle himself down to the seat.

The passenger compartment had no windows, so Sev busied himself by checking his omni-tool functions. That didn’t take too long, since his omni-tool was a basic model. With that done, he closed his eyes and thought the two teammates he had been hired to protect.

Levin was the one who had contacted him and met him at a Citadel bar with a job in talon. It seemed simple at the time – protection for a salvage team. The pay was good as well. Sev had an ability, honed after centuries as a mercenary, to size someone up at a glance. The turian had seemed nervous, and had been constantly shifting his weight during their conversation. Sev suspected that he wasn’t used to dealing with mercenaries, which meant that whatever operation he was running was amateur or small-time. 

Fair enough, he’d thought at the time. That means they won’t dare to double-cross me. Or if they do, they shouldn’t be trouble.

He’d met Riana on the corvette. She was supposed to be the brains of the operation, what with a degree from some Thessian university Sev had never heard of. From what he gathered, those two were the entire operation. And he’d said yes!

Sev still didn’t understand why he’d accepted the job instead of walking out. Was it wanderlust? A death wish? Perhaps—

“I can see a clearing. We’re 1 click out from a cluster of the old hulks.” Levin’s voice came out over the shuttle’s intercom, mixed with static but still decipherable. “Large heat signature nearby, probably wildlife. Sev, that’s on you.”

Sev grunted in response, and checked the Striker one last time. He slid a thermal clip into the heatsink and then flicked the catch off the safety.

Riana glanced at the weapon. “Isn’t that an old-model Striker? You don’t need clips for that.”

“It’s upgraded,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh.”

They sat in silence until the shuttle bumped, once, and then Sev could hear the thrusters and eezo core turning off. Levin’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Sev, try to clear us a landing area near the hulk. Riana, go with him and scout out the wreck. Good hunting.”

Sev acknowledged his request and checked the seals on his armor. They were solid. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Riana doing the same. Smart girl.

Sev thumped his fist on the cockpit door twice. Levin got the message and unsealed the shuttle’s side door, letting sunlight and eezo-contaminated air flood the passenger compartment.

They’d landed in the middle of a forest. Surrounding them on all sides were coniferous trees. Life was present, as evidenced by the many alarmed squawks that they could hear.

Both he and Riana hopped out from the shuttle’s metal flooring onto earth; real, green and fertile earth. Sev kicked the ground to make sure it wasn’t a façade. The topsoil flew away in a cloud of brown, revealing rich humus beneath.

Riana meanwhile was checking her omni-tool. “That way,” she said, pointing towards the deeper part of the forest.

Sev brought his rifle up to rest its butt against his shoulder. They walked in silence for fifteen minutes. Sev guessed they were out of radio range of the Kodiak shuttle. “You trust him enough to leave him with your only way offworld?”

“Yes.”

Sev sighed, shaking his head. The things I do for credits.

Then he saw a flash of movement somewhere off to his right, deeper in the forest.

He signaled to Riana, and at the same time switched on the flashlight in his omni-tool. The light could only penetrate a few meters into the dense forest foliage. Sev could hear his hearts pounding in preparation for a battle. He switched on his kinetic barrier, and by his side he could see Riana’s biotics flare up, covering her skin in a blue glow.

Biotics were the abilities for some living creatures to create and control mass effect fields due to element zero nodules embedded in flesh. Those nodules activate when electrical impulses travel through the nervous system, allowing the biotic to levitate and throw objects at a distance, amongst other things. 

Sev’s helmet VI warned him of two sources of concentrated biotic power. The first, by his side. Riana. The second, 25 meters in front of him and closing at a measured pace.

Fuck it. Better safe than sorry.

He pulled the trigger. Explosive shells spat out of the muzzle, into the foliage, and detonated, blooming into flowers of orange and white. A screech ripped through the air and he stopped firing.

According to his VI, the source was no longer moving. Sev waded through the foliage to get a closer look at his target. He kept his rifle up, just in case.

It was a cross between a bird and a reptile, lying on the singed ground amidst smoldering clumps of dead grass and branches. Parts of its body were missing, and in the wounds Sev could see organs expanding as its body tried to heal. There was a pool of blood around it, growing with every passing second.

Sev pulled out a knife and slit the creature open beak to tail, searching for the eezo within. A scan by his omni-tool showed that it was held in cavities in the neck. He plucked out the small silver-blue substance and put it in one of the compartments in his armor.

Riana was waiting for him when he emerged from the undergrowth. She looked at his blood-covered hands. “I guess it’s dead then.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. It looked pretty mangled.”

She shifted her weight onto her other foot. “That blood will attract every predator within a kilometer radius. Wash it off.”

Sev glared at her, but the effect was somewhat negated by his helmet. Riana would just see yellow circles facing her. Nonetheless, she was right, so he wiped his gauntlets on the dirt on the ground. “Done.”

They proceeded to the designated area in silence.

-&-

The general sat in the back of the chariot as it flew from Canterlot to Ponyville. He’d requested a few more to carry his troops. Once they were dropped off in Ponyville, they’d be forced to enter the Everfree on hoof, since the tree cover was too dense. He sighed mentally. Already the skies were beginning to darken with the onslaught of night. He decided to wait until daybreak before trekking into the forest. Undoubtedly, he’d lose fewer ponies when they could actually see in front of themselves.

The general’s reverie was broken when he felt the sensation of falling in the pit of his stomach, and he heard one of the pegasi pulling the chariots swear. How unprofessional. He was about to deliver a reprimand when the chariot turned, revealing a column of black smoke rising from deep within the Everfree. Orange flames licked near the bottom and around the edge of the smoke, giving the scene an otherworldly quality. He shivered, despite himself.

-&-

“Really? A flamethrower?”

“Unless you were planning to shoot the trees down, and burn off all your clips, this was the best alternative!”

Sev was grateful for the environmental scrubbing systems in his armor.

“How can Levin land in the smoke?”

“Collision avoidance systems.”

“Oh, this I have to see.”

“Shut up, Sev.”

The krogan shut up. Angering his employer wasn’t the smartest thing to do, even if he could probably kill her. The credits in her bank account died with her, after all. With nothing to do, Sev slumped against a tree that wasn’t burning. They’d found the first hulk, now covered with 37 million years’ worth of mud and plant growth. According to the shape of the hull, the ship had impacted the ground at an angle and a slow enough speed that it didn’t disintegrate on impact. Rather, it had been sheared in two, and the frontal section had flipped over, whilst the engine section had continued to tumble until it finally stopped about 3 kilometers away.

The frontal section was about 600 meters long, and lay at a slight incline. The ship had been roughly bisected widthwise, and Sev could see the 6 decks that of the ship that lay open to the elements. Hopefully the relics inside were undamaged enough to get him a decent commission.

Even over the crackling of burning branches, the shuttle’s deep thrum was audible, and grew in volume with each second. Suddenly it roared overhead, bursting through the column of smoke dramatically, and then took a wide turn, before slowing down to approach the clearing. 

Beside him, Riana muttered “Show-off.”

Sev had to agree.

The shuttle’s thrusters disengaged and the body of the shuttle hit the ground with a whump. The door swung open, and Levin hopped out.

“We’ll start searching now. Everyone has flashlights, yes? Sev, take point in case the wildlife made their home in the ship.”
The ship was still intact enough that the sunlight could not penetrate the inner holds. Whether they searched in daytime or not wouldn’t make much of a difference.

Sev looked at the sky. The sun had set already, and the moon was moving up in the sky to take its place. That’s odd. Is the moon moving at different speeds? He shook his head. Not important.

-&-

Even at this range, Twilight Sparkle could sense the flare in the field of magic. She sensed its location in the Everfree, coinciding with the appearance of small lights above the forest – 8 orange jets that seemed to splay randomly across the sky. It disappeared a minute later, and the flare of magic subsided, leaving Twilight a bit shaken.

This normally didn’t happen. Twilight was used to being in the company of powerful magical beings and the effects of latent magic. She shivered, more out of fear than anything else.

Rarity had felt something similar as well, but she wasn’t as affected, and trotted over to Twilight. “Dear, did you…”

“Yes,” Twilight replied, shaking her head. “It’s not just you. That was—powerful magic.”

Twilight had sensed magic of that magnitude before - her own emissions were as powerful as the one she'd felt from the alien object. But that wasn't much solace. After all, she knew she was an abnormally powerful unicorn.

Rarity shivered.

The general overheard the conversation, but did not interrupt. He had felt the pulse of magic surge as well. Unicorns were uniquely attuned to the magic field, allowing them to influence it through the use of their horns. Earth ponies and pegasi also possessed magic; after all, cloud shaping and flight would not be possible without it. The main difference was that unicorns’ magical abilities could be used consciously, whilst pegasi and earth ponies were restricted to using magic as a crutch.

The general looked about the tent-city that had been constructed outside Ponyville proper – it was in between the town and the Everfree. His guards did not look enthused at rushing into the forest, filled with dangerous creatures already, to face a possibly even deadlier enemy.

Nor should they, he mused.

Now, he could do nothing but sleep and wait until morning.

> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2
--
You ask a krogan if he'd rather find a cure for the genophage, or fight for credits, and he'll choose fighting — every time. It's just who we are. – Urdnot Wrex, 2183 CE
--
The wolf lunged at Sev’s arm. He swung his rifle at it, smashing its butt into the wolf’s face. The wolf’s snout sprayed a splash of bright scarlet blood, and its body crumpled. Sev brought his armored boot onto its head, painting the metal beneath with a starburst of blood and brain matter.

“Wildlife’s dead!” he called.

Levin and Riana took their time before meeting him in the corridor of the ship. Both of them were cradling metallic objects, some smooth and rounded, and others jagged.

“Help us take these to the shuttle then,” Levin said, and handed over his cargo to Sev. Riana did the same.

Sev rolled his eyes under his helmet, but neither of his two companions could see that. He walked over to the shuttle, cargo under his arm, and over the radio he could hear Levin grunt as he boosted himself up onto the second floor. The staircases were useless since the ship hull was upside-down, and the elevator had long been defunct. Thus, they’d have to leave Sev on the bottom deck, since he was too heavy to boost up.

He’d been fine with that. Now his job mostly meant watching the shuttle in the charred clearing from behind a makeshift barricade in the ship. He wished he’d brought more holovids before embarking on this contract.

Sev looked at the sky. Stars were slowly drowned out in a spray of light that spilled in from the horizon. Sunrise. Means the animals are waking up. He checked the amount of ammunition he’d brought along. 40 thermal clips meant … around 800 shots? Should be enough for the day.

-&-

“Sunrise!”

The general’s call rang clearly over the tent-city. There was some groaning in response. He turned to reprimand the guards that had, before discovering that the groans had come from the six Element holders.

“Just – one more – min” the white unicorn called out. Rarity, was that her name? the general thought.  She’d been wearing a ridiculously frilly yellow eye-cover, and propped it up with a hoof at the sound, staring irritably at him.

“No. We move now. The beasts of the Everfree will be slower in the morning.”

She opened her mouth, probably to rebuke him, and then closed it. “You win this time.”

“If I didn’t, there wouldn’t be a next time.”

The general walked out of his tent and dismantled it with practiced efficiency, with no care for the six mares also underneath it. He folded it into a small bag, and left the bag in the organized spot. On his return, his charges glared daggers at him. Except the pink one, who was smiling. Odd. He ignored them.

Today he led a team of 50 guards. The general vaguely remembered that this was the largest deployment since Discord’s return, but his mind was all business when he saw his five lieutenants trot up to him and salute.

“Trace, you’re up front today. Metal, behind Trace’s squad. Blade and Shield, you two on the flanks. Frost, watch our backs. Diamond formation escort. Get your squads ready and I’ll meet you all by the path.”

Each lieutenant trained with 9 other guards to form a cohesive unit that would support one another. This ensured combat efficiency as well as high morale.

The general looked back at the six mares. The purple one – Sparkle – spoke up. “Mr. General? Sir? It’s – er – I was wondering, what do you know about this mission? Princess Celestia wasn’t clear in her letter.”

“She wasn’t clear with me either,” the general replied.

There was a short pause.

“So you’re going into battle not knowing what you’ll be facing?”

Another pause.

“Yes.” The general hated how useless and weak he felt at that moment. His entire lifetime of experience and training seemed paltry now. He’d never been in a real battle, where the enemy aimed to kill.

He shivered.

-&-

A growl.

Sev was already ready before the sound came – the VI told him of a large approaching heat signature – but he’d wanted to see what he was up against before he started shooting. After all, information is power.

The source of the growl came into the charred clearing, eyes focused on the shuttle. Sev examined the creature with a hunter’s eye.

Wings. Flight capable, high mobility.

Stinger tail. Poison. Threat.

Mammalian body, feline. Agile.

Head of a predatory feline. Threat.

Again Sev had the feeling that some of the creatures on this world were not descendants of evolution. The reptile-avian hybrid he could just accept, but this abomination of creatures seemed manufactured from a test tube.

The creature pawed at the shuttle. It was about 3 meters high and 5 meters long, including the tail. Most importantly, its claws were scratching the paint of the shuttle. Levin wasn’t going to be happy.

Sev didn’t need an excuse for a fight now. He felt a familiar buzz as he leveled the muzzle of the Striker to the beast’s head. Adrenaline, my oldest friend. Red sand, morphine, even X doesn’t compare to this. Most dangerous drug in the galaxy. His hearts raced to prepare him for the upcoming battle.

He saw that the beast had noticed his movement. Its eyes flicked from the shuttle to him, and it snarled, spraying saliva over the top of the shuttle.

Levin’s definitely going to hate that.

Sev was grinning widely now, battle-song roaring through him. His finger tightened on the trigger.

It seemed that time had been slowed to a fraction of its original speed – Sev was aware of the red streaks of light jetting out of the barrel of the Striker and hitting the animal, the creature’s expression turning from aggression to shock, then outrage as the explosive bullets tore bloody craters in its head and neck. He was aware of the creature taking to the air, to leap down at him, even as he started to strafe to the left, still firing. He was aware of how slow he was moving, and how the beast hanging in the air seemed to smile as it realized that Sev couldn’t escape from its pounce.

Sev continued firing into the creature’s head. One bullet detonated in the beast’s mouth, pulverizing its tongue, teeth and jaw and sending a slow river of red blood dripping out of its maw; another struck an eye and elicited a spray of vitreous slime; one passed over its head and continued into the sky above the forest canopy.

The creature’s head was a mangled mess of blood and bone, but it was still alive. Bizarrely, Sev started to theorize the reason why – Skull too thick? Secondary brain? – and then he saw the beast’s paw, claws extended, swipe across his armor’s torso section.

Modern body armor had a ‘triple canopy’ of protection. The first and outermost layer was the kinetic barrier, a series of repulsive mass effect fields that triggered whenever a fast moving object entered activation range. The second layer was the armor itself, a sealed suit of ballistic cloth that was reinforced with metal alloy and lightweight ceramic plates in important areas. The third layer of protection was the self-healing system. When the armor is breached, sensors interwoven into the suit relay information about the breach to the armor’s microframe computers, which order the breach sealed off with non-conductive, sterile medi-gel.

In this case the claws moved too slowly for the kinetic barriers to trigger – and Sev felt himself being thrown bodily to the side. He was grateful for the natural shell plating on his shoulder hump, as it absorbed the shock. The shuttle was to his right, and the creature between him and the interior of the hull.

Fuck.

A fully armored adult krogan, as Sev was in this case, could weigh up to one ton. And the beast had swatted him aside like a youngling.

Biotically enhanced muscle.

Oh, and I think my armor plate might have broken. That’s going to cost.

Striker rounds were designed to explode on impact, rather than penetrate armor. Even though superficial damage was catastrophic, internal damage was limited. Sev made a mental note to modify the bullet blueprint for the internal fabricator of the rifle.

The creature’s stinger rushed towards him. Sev ignored it and ejected the spent thermal clip, loading another in. The stinger couldn’t penetrate his armor. The worst it could do was to throw him off-balance. He aimed at the creature’s legs.
A hundred years of life on Tuchanka, the krogan homeworld, had taught Sev the thought process of a predator. Predators hunted by overwhelming their prey with speed or strength. If the fight was too even, the predator would usually back out, and try its luck against another target. Unless they were enraged.

The creature in front of Sev was definitely enraged now. Spittle mixed with blood dripped from its ruined mouth, and it roared with frustration and rage. Sev knew that the creature had the upper hand on speed, so he fired at its legs. 
The creature buckled and fell to one side as its two left legs disintegrated into clouds of blood and tissue. It roared again. Sev was almost tempted to put it out of its misery. Almost. Battle-song coursed through him – he roared with pleasure as he strafed over to the other side of the animal, and ripped its remaining legs apart with a burst of gunfire.

The creature was dead now, for all it could do. It continued to gnash its teeth as it lay on the ground. Sev found that he respected the creature for its tenacity. It was a worthy opponent. And it would die a good death.

He ejected the thermal clip and loaded the radiator system. There was no point wasting ammunition now. The radiator took a minute to vent the rifle of excess heat, rendering it operable again.

Sev trudged up to beast’s head. It tried to stretch to bite him, but failed. Inflexible neck, Sev noted. He leveled the rifle until the barrel was pointing straight into the creature’s now empty eye socket, and could reach the brain. There. He pulled the trigger.

-&-

Far away, the assembled guards outside the Everfree heard the sound of rolling thunder. The clear skies above them seemed to mock them all the more. 

> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 3

--

Uplifting a species has massive benefits and drawbacks. The krogan race provides an example. They changed from the saviors of the galaxy to its destroyers. – Liselle O’Tyr, “Interspecies Interactions”, 2160 CE 

--

Levin poked his head out of the spaceship, on the 6th deck of the spaceship – the highest. “We’ve cleaned it out!”

Then he saw the carnage around the shuttle. “What the fuck happened here?”

“Just curious wildlife. No need to shout,” Sev replied. Thankfully his suit’s computers had toned down the volume of Levin’s remark. It also had the side effect of making his shout sound flat.

“Right. At least kill the thing away from the shuttle so blood doesn’t get on it. Spirits know how hard that is to clean.”

“We can talk on the way back.”

There was a minute of radio silence as Levin and Riana made their way down to the ground deck. Both of them were holding boxes in their arms.

About time.

Riana saw the body in front of the shuttle and her hand went to her mouth. Or at least it tried to. Her helmet was in the way.
Sev chuckled. Levin had at least some discipline and training instilled in him from his time in his mandatory military service, so he was somewhat desensitized to bloodshed. Riana, on the other hand, had been a secluded, protected academic all her life. Well, up until now.

She shook her head, attempting to compose herself. “We’d better go. I want something to eat, and I can’t open this suit while planetside.”

Levin nodded and maneuvered around the boxes of relics, disappearing into the cockpit. Sev and Riana followed him into the shuttle, and sat down in one of the relatively empty spaces in the cargo bay.

They’d packed the relics in such a way that the boxes were all piled onto the locked side of the shuttle. This left Sev and Riana sitting across from one another.

“We’re in,” Riana said. She was sitting closer to the pilot door, so she was answering the intercom. This suited Sev just fine.

Levin closed the shuttle door in response, bringing the interior of the cargo bay into gloom.

“Looks like dawn right now.” Levin’s voice crackled over the intercom. “So that’s a, err, a 14 hour rotation? Seems about right. Fifteen boxes should get us –”

“Levin? Intercom’s still on.” Riana’s voice cut through Levin’s absent mutterings. Levin started, then quickly switched off the intercom channel.

“Does he do this a lot?” Sev’s voice was unchanged, but Riana thought she could detect some amusement in it.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“You know each other well, then?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. We met at university. At the time, turians weren’t really that common on Thessia. Still aren’t now. He was always the odd one out, never really felt comfortable with us. I was a wallflower as well, so we" –

“A what?”

“Wallflower. Socially awkward, quiet, shy. I thought it translated over?”

Sev shook his head.

“Anyways, I guess we complemented one another. We grew into close friends. And before you ask, no romance.”

“Hmm…”

“Shut up.”

“Odd. You’d think Palaven would have lots of fine universities. Why’d he go away, to a foreign planet?”

“I did ask once. It didn’t go well.” Riana’s eyes were still focused on Sev, but her mind was far away, back on Thessia, 20 years ago.

-&-

University of Serrice, Thessia
20 years ago

Parnitha shone down on the grassy field outside the university campus building. The sky was clear, with only a few wispy white clouds present. They were by a lake, surface slightly rippled from the light breeze that blew eastwards.

An asari, blue-skinned and slight, stood on the shore of the lake. Beside her, a tall turian stood as well, rubbing the dark-gray plating on his face absently. Both were watching the waves move from one side of the lake to the other.

The asari turned to her companion. “Why are you here?”

The turian tried to make a joke of the question, but he didn’t succeed. “You asked me to meet you here, remember?” His mandibles flicked. The asari picked it up as a sign of nerves.

“We’ve known each other for years. You can trust me.” She was almost pleading now.

His resolve broke for a second. “I, err –” he started, before the famous turian discipline kicked into action and he closed his eyes. “I can’t. I did something I regret doing.”

The asari’s curiosity was piqued – she saw how her friend was uncomfortable, but in her inexperience she pushed for more information. “What was it? I won’t hate you, I promise,” she said, but by then the turian had already turned his back on her, and was walking away from the lake.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I need some time. Alone.”

-&-

Riana experienced the memory like she was viewing from the perspective of a third person. It helped to relieve her of some of the guilt she had felt afterwards– she hadn’t wanted to hurt Levin. She sighed, mentally reprimanding herself for her naiveté.  They’d mended their relationship afterwards, of course; but there was always an unspoken agreement between them to never speak of the incident again.

Sev waved his large gauntleted hand in front of her face, taking her back to the present, aboard the shuttle.

“So, how about you? What’s your story?” she asked, more to distract herself from her memories than anything else.

“Typical merc shit. Joined Blood Pack, got off Tuchanka, left Blood Pack. They sent some men to ‘retrieve’ me. Killed them. Worked as an independent merc from then on.”

“I thought you’d stay with your clan.”

“There was no future on Tuchanka. At least I got money for killing offworld.”

Riana’s mouth hung open as she heard his words. She could hear the resignation in his voice, mixed with a bit of frustration and anger. Aren’t krogan supposed to be proud? But this one was odd. She got the feeling that he was hiding a bit more than he said.

“What was your former clan?” she asked. Damn my own curiosity…

Sev looked at her, his head tilted slightly to the side. “You’re persistent. I am – clanless.”

“What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’d be removed from records anyways. I don’t exist, according to my clan.”

A pause.

“You’re not like most krogan.”

“Yeah. Cultural influx and all that. Comes from being offworld.”

“Why don’t more krogan go offworld?”

“Only the Blood Pack had starships back then. You either pay money and risk being stabbed in the back or you join them. I didn’t have money, so I joined. And krogan; most of them are just content with killing each other on Tuchanka. For honor or something.”

They lapsed into silence after that.

-&-

Trace swore.

The general heard it but let it pass. In the Everfree forest, death could come from any dark shadow behind a tree. Poisonous frogs, spiders the size of squirrels and wolves made of flesh as well as wood all made their homes in the depths of the Everfree.

The scent of smoke hung heavily in the air. It was both a blessing and a curse – one was unable to breathe in it, yet it masked one’s scent from predators; predators, such as the manticore that used this forest path commonly, according to the scratch marks on the dark brown bark of nearby trees.

They heard a whine start up in front of them, along with a deep booming sound, and a silver vessel lifted itself off the ground with jets of fire. At this range, all the unicorns in the group could sense the waves of magic emitted by that thing. The silver material it was made from was marred with reddish splotches that looked disturbingly similar to –

“General!”

Trace’s call whisked away the absent thoughts in the general’s mind, and he called back to Trace. “Report!”

“Clearing’s charred. Burned trees everywhere. But…”

“Yes?”

“Oh my oh my oh my oh my…”

Fearful of an ambush, the general ordered his men into battle stance. They filtered carefully into the clearing, where Trace and his squad were trying not to look at a body of a manticore.

A body of a manticore.

The general knew manticores were some of the most powerful animals in Equestria, barring the dragons. The size of the body told him that this manticore was in its prime; a well-fed young adult. The creature lay dead before his feet, blood still soaking into the blackened soil.

Wounds of this magnitude were unheard of. The manticore’s head had become strips of flesh hanging off the visible bone underneath. Singes could be seen all across the exposed skull. Its legs, meanwhile, looked as if they had never been there. The only sign that they had existed were the stumps. Bits of flesh and fur were scattered around the body like gruesome confetti.

The general couldn’t fight back an urge to throw up. And he did so in front of all his guards and his six charges. At this range, the smell of blood was overpowering, and primal instincts told the general to hurtle back to the safety and cover of the forest.

He cantered over to his charges. All of them were in a similar position to him – they were all trying to hold on to their stomachs.

The pink one had scrunched up her face until her eyes were slits. She was obviously in disbelief. The purple one had her mouth open in horror, and had quickly turned away once she saw the scene. The blue pegasus and Rarity – yes, that was her name – were pressing against a yellow pegasus. The orange mare had covered her eyes with her hat. Of all of them, she seemed to be taking the scene the best. Must have been the farm life. Got used to injuries.

The general felt out of his depth. These aliens were far more powerful than he’d originally thought. He felt like a foal now, powerless in the face of danger, and shivered as a cold feeling ran down his spine.

We need the princesses.

That thought snapped him back to the present, and he made called for his troops. Everyone gave the manticore body a wide berth.

“Send a message to the princess. Tell her everything.”

The purple unicorn under his escort snapped at the blue pegasus beside her. “Rainbow, find Spike and get him to take a letter.”

The blue – Rainbow – saluted, then flew above the forest canopy and made a way for Ponyville.

Apparently the leader of this group.

“Spike?” the general asked. He wasn’t happy about involving more ponies than absolutely necessary. The resulting panic could send the economy crashing.

“Spike is my assistant. He is linked to the princess.”

“Linked?”

“He can send messages to the princess and receive them instantaneously.” She had said this as if she was reciting from a textbook. It must have been a common question for her.

“I see.”

Well, that will be faster than a messenger, at least.

The ensuing silence was as oppressive as the forest around them.

The general broke it. “Guards, clear the area. Search for anything out of place.”

The guards started an old, but well-drilled search pattern. The general could smell their fear, as potent as the smoke in the air – but their training and discipline kept them moving.

One of the guards yelped in pain. In an instant 50 guards were around her, forming a protective barrier. She was batting at her mouth, obviously having tried to pick something up. The general broke through the barrier to examine the object.
It was unremarkable at first – a black rod the size of a unicorn’s horn – but by the guard’s reaction, it was far more dangerous than it seemed. The general picked it up using levitation and examined it from all angles. Even a few hooves away, the heat radiating off the object made the general uncomfortable. 

“We’ll take this in for examination,” the general sighed.

The purple unicorn – Ah yes, Twilight Sparkle – spoke up. “I’m sure I can make some room at the library to keep it.” Her face was one of unsuppressed glee, and the general had to fight the urge to chuckle at her massive, hopeful smile.

“Alas, it could be dangerous. This object could have been the cause of that.” The general nodded to the manticore’s body. “We will keep it far from town until it can be moved to Canterlot’s laboratories.”

Twilight Sparkle made to protest, but the general cut her off. “Better safe than sorry.”

He looked back at the cave system opposite them. It was ancient, yet looked like it had not gone worse for wear. There were still 6 caves, one on top of another, rectangular mouths that suggested both shelter and danger. This was hallowed soil. Supposedly, the legends said that this cave system was the original source of the fabled Elements of Harmony…

And at the birthplace of Harmony lay a dead body.

-&-

“We’re going to have to decontaminate. Strap yourselves and the cargo in.” Levin’s voice crackled over the intercom.

The shuttle sat in the corvette’s airlock, in between the exterior and interior doors. The exterior door was open to the vacuum of space, whilst the interior door had been sealed shut.

Inside the shuttle’s cargo bay, Sev and Riana draped strong netting over the boxes. This would stop them from being blown into space.

The cockpit door slid open as well. Levin had twisted in his pilot’s seat and was looking at the two. Both Sev and Riana gave the confirmations.

Levin flicked a switch and the shuttle’s cargo-bay doors slid open. They could see the air gush out of the shuttle as white mists, frozen by the cold of space. After a moment the flow slowed to a trickle, and then stopped. Riana got out of the shuttle and sealed the external door, before pressing a nearby button to start the decontamination process.

Decontamination was a standard procedure for all space-faring civilizations. The shuttle was bathed in UV light and gamma radiation to kill micro-organisms on the hull and inside the shuttle. The men aboard the shuttle would undergo armor decontamination in a separate chamber.

Even though it was accepted as necessary, it was still a boring process, in Sev’s view. Just stand there whilst the chamber runs lights over every inch of your armor. Like how C-Sec runs wands over me every time I take a step on the Citadel. He sighed.

Levin and Riana were already seated by the time he was out of decontamination. They had taken off their helmets, and were in the process of munching on ration bars. Sev recognized them as MREs. He didn’t need to eat – the stored nutrients and fluids in his shoulder hump would allow him to subsist for 2 weeks without food or water. Though who ever turns down food?

Well, someone afraid of poison.

Sev made his way over to the two. The turian handed him a nutrient bar, still in the blue wrapper.

“Blue means dextro, Sev. It’ll make you sick,” Riana said. She was looking at Levin with a frown. Levin’s mandibles twitched. Bastard, she thought.

“Krogan don’t get sick,” Sev chuckled while popping the bar in his mouth, wrapper and all. “We had to eat this shit during the Rebellions, when the turians cut our supply lines. Picked them right off the dead turians.”

Levin’s mandibles twitched again, but everyone knew it was from irritation rather than amusement this time.

Sev smiled. That action peeled back his yellow scaly skin to reveal the teeth in his massive maw.

Levin’s mandibles twitched yet again, more viciously than before.

-&-

Twilight was slightly frustrated at the general’s insistence on where to put the artifact that they had recovered, although she understood his reasoning. She scowled. In her home, she had an entire laboratory’s worth of equipment to study the artifact with. With what the general insisted upon, she’d been forced to use only equipment she could carry on her back.

She’d received a letter from the Princess, telling her that she could expect a courier to arrive and pick up the artifact. The Princess hadn’t mentioned that she couldn’t do some experimenting on her own in the meantime, though. And technically, she wasn’t breaking any rules. She hoped.

At least he wasn’t being mean about it. She got the distinct impression that he wanted the artifact as far away from himself as possible, but he didn’t want to risk an entire town being destroyed because somepony found it and accidentally activated it. So he’d decided to keep it amongst the guards, where any damage would be relatively contained and accidents minimized.

The general was waiting for her. A stone well surrounded the artifact, which lay on bare earth. Apparently they discovered that it was hot enough to melt a hole through any table they’d tried to put it on. It was so hot that it had vitrified the some of the soil beneath it into a glassy substance.

Twilight knew that dealing with hazardous materials should be left to experts – ones who had their cutie marks on such subjects. But her curiosity overcame her inhibitions, and after an internal struggle she decided to start experimenting.

She got a bucket of water from the nearby river and distilled it using a spell. This was basic – pure water weighed less than dirty water of the same volume, so all she had to do was collect the soil using her magic. She lifted the soil out of the bucket and flung it back into the river, before hefting the bucket of water back to the artifact.

The guards around the artifact looked at her curiously. Everypony else had hidden themselves away behind nearby boulders and trees. Twilight felt a bit like a performer on a stage, with thousands of eyes on her. She shook her head and focused on the task at hand. Sweating, she levitated the bucket of water over the stone well and poured its innards onto the artifact.

The effect was instantaneous. A shriek of steam blasted out of the well like a volcanic eruption. Everypony jumped a few steps back, but the artifact remained inert after that.

Twilight took down a few notes. High temperature. Vitrified soil. Attempted to cool with water: Turned water into steam on contact. Recommend glass or metal containment.

The general entered the scene, alongside a pegasus. “The courier’s here,” he said, gesturing to his companion. The courier, meanwhile, was busy unscrewing a glass jar in her saddlebag. She looked to be a more lightly armored guard.

The general lifted the open glass jar from her bag, and slowly placed the artifact inside it, then screwed the lid shut and placed it back in the saddlebag carefully. The artifact seemed harmless in the container; a black rod lying carelessly on the bottom of the jar; but everypony there knew that it could be the end of them.

There was an audible sigh of relief from everypony except Twilight when the courier departed.

-&-

“We’re going to have to land the ship,” Levin stated matter-of-factly. He was in the pilot’s seat, checking what seemed to be lines upon lines of numbers on an orange screen.

“Why?” Riana asked. Sev had the same question in his mind, but didn’t care to vocalize it.

“I checked the log data. The eezo core was stressed again, just before we arrived. Another gravitational anomaly, from what the data tells me. This time it also took down the shields. I can’t risk a micro-meteor impact.”

“This planet is uninhabited. There’s no starport or anything.”

“So I’ll have to land on mud. No biggie for a turian corvette.”

Riana sighed. “It’s your ship, so go ahead. But if we’re stuck here, I’ll kill you. Or Sev will.”

Sev turned. “How did you manage to get a military ship? I thought sales were restricted.”

“I made friends during my time with the military. They gave me a discount on an old salvaged ship damaged in the Battle of The Citadel. Same story with the shuttle, too.”

Sev grunted in acknowledgement. With all the money he’d made in 600 years of mercenary work, he could definitely buy his own warship. The difficult part was finding someone willing to sell a krogan a warship.

There are always the batarians. Then again, their ships are crap.

“Spotted a good landing point?” Levin asked, without turning in his seat.

“A plain here,” Riana said by the scanner, noting the co-ordinates. “Thing is, it’s far from any hulls we’ve discovered. Another plain is here" – she noted another set of co-ordinates - "but that’s a tiny space.  It’s in between a mountain. This one" – she wrote down yet another set of co-ordinates - "seems to be near some sort of native settlement, from what the scanners are saying.”

“Maybe if we act right we can get them to worship us,” Sev remarked, earning him a chuckle from Levin and a glare from Riana. “What? That’s what the hanar did to the Protheans.”

“Uplifting is … a difficult topic,” Riana said. “We should let them develop naturally rather than on the paths we desire. There may be unintended consequences.”

Sev rolled his eyes, but said nothing in return. Riana knew he was thinking about the uplift of his own race, over 1500 years ago…

The ship lurched beneath the three as Levin made a sharp turn towards the planet. “Number 3 it is, then,” he said.

Sev had been modifying the Striker’s bullet blueprints. When the ship lurched, he growled with irritation. To increase armor penetration, he’d lowered the size and therefore weight of the bullet, but then the explosive power of each bullet would decrease. To counter that, he’d made the shape of the bullet into something resembling a stiletto blade, and increased the weight as much as the fabricator would allow. That would cut the number of effective bullets per clip. He’d also raised the delay timer before detonation. The explosive power per bullet was still lower than before, but at least the bullet would penetrate bone more easily and then detonate inside the target rather than outside.

Levin muttered something resembling “sorry”, and then remained silent for the remainder of the journey.

-&-

The black shape screamed through the skies above Equestria.

It was shaped like an odd bird; a sleek, angular body with 2 triangular ‘wings’ that were edged too straight and angular to be natural. It didn’t help that the object was massive – about half as long as Ponyville from tip to tip.

As it decelerated over the town of Ponyville, Rainbow Dash’s nap was disturbed a roaring whine and a large shadow.

She looked upwards at the subject of her annoyance; the encounter earlier this morning had left her shaken, even though she wasn’t about to admit it to anypony. After all, she was supposed to be fearless and confident, and by keeping up appearances her friends would be able to draw strength from that. She had remembered her coach at Junior Speedsters talking about the importance of morale in a team.

Even so, the stench of the manticore’s blood had urged her to launch into the sky and hide in the nearest cloud. She’d actually felt scared, for once. She’d managed to fight down the instinct to bolt at the time – What Element of Loyalty would I be if I left my friends? – but that didn’t make the scene any less horrifying. She was certain that she would remember that morning for the rest of her life.

She’d wanted, needed to talk to someone. But her pride had stopped her. She didn’t want to be seen in a moment of weakness. It would ruin her image. Maybe later.

And so she’d chosen to deal with this in her own way – by taking a nap. After all, everypony made big decisions after sleeping on them. Maybe she would find consolation through sleep as well.

And now, the passing shadow chilled her blood. It seemed like a harbinger of death – black against the blue sky, with angular, unnatural wings. It brought the whole town of Ponyville into shadow for a moment – but that was enough for everypony to panic. Within seconds the streets were empty. Rainbow Dash would have been impressed, had she not been rocketing towards Twilight’s home.

She burst in, colliding with the door with such force that she feared they would snap off their hinges. At that moment, everything seemed to slow down. She caught Twilight’s head turning away from a book towards her door, eyes widened in shock and surprise as well as slight fear, mouth hanging open just so, ears splaying backwards; she saw Spike lose control of a gem in his claw as he jumped about a foot in the air, and his head turned ponderously towards her; and then everything sped up and she flapped hard into the air in front of her and reared up at the sudden deceleration –

That was awesome. I should do it more often.

Twilight was not amused as she wrapped Rainbow Dash in a cocoon of magic, immobilizing the pegasus and then placing her gently on the ground. She fixed her gaze on Rainbow. “What now?”

“They’re back – what are you reading?”

Twilight was surrounded by open books, some of which looked positively ancient, judging by the cracking on the book covers and the yellow pages.

“I know. I can sense them.” Twilight looked at her horn, eyes crossing. “This time it’s much more powerful than that silver vessel. And I haven’t found anything that could explain the artifact. Nothing! There are no records on any aliens too!” She let out a cry of frustration. “How do I know what to do without any prior information?” Parts of Twilight’s mane started to spring up at their own accord, and her irises shrank into pinpricks.

Rainbow had known Twilight for a long time. She knew that Twilight only acted like this under high amounts of stress. But she was impulsive, and did not stop to think before answering. “They’re right outside Ponyville! They’re here already, and all you can do is read?”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and in her peripheral vision Rainbow could see Spike turning his head over to look at the two. Rainbow cursed herself inwardly for that outburst.

“What else can I do? Nopony has ever seen anything like this. Ever! We don’t even know why they’re here! I don’t want to end up like that manticore!”

Twilight’s outburst left her sweating and shaking, before she recovered enough to let her logical mind take over. “Sorry about that. It’s just that this has left me so worried ever since we’d gone on that expedition. I hate feeling so powerless.”

Rainbow’s face darkened. “I hope you’re not. It’s heading towards Sweet Apple Acres, way I see it.”

“We’ve got no time to lose. Spike, letter. Notify the Princess. Tell her to meet us at the Sweet Apple Acres.”

Spike nodded and grabbed a nearby piece of parchment, before scribbling something down.

“Rainbow, round up the girls and we’ll meet with Applejack at her farm.”

Rainbow nodded once, and then plodded over to a nearby window to observe the sky. Twilight guessed she was still checking whether the object was still hovering over the town. By the way she opened the door and hurtled off, it wasn't. That meant it had landed already. I hope Applejack will be OK.

-&-

The general had ordered his men to pack up when they’d returned from their expedition. Now, the black shape over Ponyville warranted a change of plans. His men groaned, but didn’t complain as they left their packs on the meadow grass.

The general turned to his subordinates. All 50 of them looked at him, relying on his leadership to get them home safely. The general mentally sighed. The guards needed morale, but how was he going to give it to them if he did not feel motivated himself?

“Guards. We stand on the precipice of disaster. I have heard rumors of discontent, and I share your concerns. This is our homeland. There is no enemy we cannot defeat together! On this day, history will remember us as the first line of defense. When this is all over, Equestria will come together and remember this place, and say, 'the guards were here'! They did not falter. They did not surrender. They held the line!”

The impromptu speech wasn’t the best, even by the general’s standards; but the guards now looked more excited for battle, more optimistic about the outcome. The general smiled. Confidence and morale in battle were important, according to the old books; they dictated whether ponies would start infighting and or deserting.

The general also knew that technology was usually the deciding factor in battle. Superior tactics could beat superior technology at times – but there was a limit to how useful spears could be against rock.

The general motioned for his guards to move towards Sweet Apple Acres.

-&-

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Record external appearances and measures.”

“Black cylinder. Does not appear to change color, shape or mass. External temperature at 700 degrees Celsius. Cooling at a very slow rate, slower than it should without magic. No ionizing radiation. EM radiation in infrared range. Could be a black body. But this is an odd one.”

“Possible. Can I run anymore tests...No. Right. We’ll crack it open. Can you cool it in water first?”

“Alright. Cooling…”

A hiss of steam erupted from the tank of water. Inside, the artifact sat innocuously, producing a trail of bubbles that expanded as they went closer to the surface.

“Alright. Now externals are at 100 degrees Celsius. Moving to worktable.”

“Worktable clear. Inside the box, will ya? There. Try and pry it apart with magic. See the seams?”

“This box is airtight?”

“According to the pony who made it, yes. Tested as well. Now pull the thing apart.”

“Alright – what in Nightmare – is that liquid? It’s – fizzing…”

“Reactive substance. I’ve never seen anything like this before…”

“That’s saying something. 30 years in the Academy –”

“Shut up and get the oil.”

“Here.”

“Pour it over – yes. Good. Fizzing stopped. Not too reactive, then. I’ll have to conduct experiments under oil, so…”

“Shall I notify the Princesses of your findings?”

“No need. I’ll tell them myself.”
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 4

--

First contact is risky business. The Relay 314 Incident and the Parnack Massacre are prime examples. – Liselle O’Tyr, “Interspecies Interactions”, 2160 CE

--

“I passed a settlement while landing. So there’s a society here. Appears agrarian in nature, from the lack of large heat sources. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Sev – hold your fire. We’re not damned Citadel ambassadors and I don’t want to cause an incident because ‘the safety was off’.”

“I’m here to protect you. If that’s what you want, fine. But it’s your life on the line.”

“Sounds good to me.” Levin folded an assault rifle, a lightweight Avenger model, and placed it onto the back of his armor. Riana, meanwhile, had gone for an old, battered Predator pistol. Sev noted that the only other weapon on the ship was the flamethrower, which now sat in a charging cradle.

“I’ve marked the estimated location of the engine section on the omni-tool. Airlock sealed. Helmets on?” Riana asked.

Both males nodded. Riana pushed a button next to the outer airlock door. Slowly, the great durasteel door inched upwards, letting natural sunlight play across the metal floor.

A flat area of land lay before them. Trees of the same type were planted in long, straight rows, and in the distance a large house could be seen. The style of the house was curious – a rural human building, but with odd protrusions and additions that reminded Riana of a skyscraper on Ilium. The ground immediately beneath them was earth that lay fallow – in between crop rotations, Levin reasoned. Sev’s attention was drawn to a nearby grove of trees; according to his helmet VI, there were two beings of immense biotic power within.

The signal from those two sources drowned out anything nearby. Sev was reminded of a previous contract in which he’d fought through a scrapyard of starships. The remaining eezo in the ship cores had played havoc with his VI, and he’d had to rely on his eyes. On the other hand, his enemies were similarly handicapped.

On this planet, everything has eezo in them. Like Thessia, but thousands of times the concentration. 

Through the trees, he could see a group of animals – quadruped mammals, each one seemingly a different color, the group forming colorful blob that clashed horribly against the dark brown and green of the trees. Some of them were wearing golden clothes, and others had head-decorations. Sev wondered offhandedly how they could have survived without camouflage. He’d heard of colorful frogs that used their color to warn predators about their poison. 

Best not to get too close, just in case.

Levin shut the door behind them using his omni-tool, and then started to plod towards the nearby forest. Riana and Sev followed behind. Sev shared his thoughts with the other two.

Riana nodded. There was no point in looking for more danger.

-&-

“Guys, do you see that?” Rainbow Dash’s voice hissed downwards from the tree, in which she was currently sitting, concealed within the leaves.

Everypony else moved into better position to observe the aliens.

Twilight’s inner scientist exclaimed in happiness as she watched the behaviors and actions of beings from other worlds.  She saw 3 huge creatures – they were all as tall as or taller than Princess Celestia. 2 of them were slim but the third towered over the other two. It was massive, wider at the torso and head area than the leg area; Twilight was reminded of a Diamond Dog, only taller and with shorter arms. All of them had some sort of exoskeleton that made their skin appear smooth, although one of them had an orange light on its arm. Although it’s too edged to be natural bioluminescence– alien technology! Wow!

Twilight almost jumped up and down in joy, but the memory of the dead manticore came back to her. She still couldn’t suppress a massive grin as she watched from the shadow under the apple tree. The aliens soon disappeared into the Everfree Forest’s foliage, and she couldn’t help but feel a tug at her hooves telling her to follow.

Apparently Celestia had the same idea. “We’ll wait half a minute, and then follow them. This should give us some time in case they are hostile.”

-&-

“We’re being followed,” Sev hissed. Despite knowing of his armor’s sound-proofing, it was still an old habit he’d had. His helmet VI showed the same group of biotics moving with them, constantly at a distance of about 100 meters behind.

“What – ah, it’s probably the indigenous people. Fire when fired upon,” Levin responded after turning his head to check. “Nothing up front, though-ah. Shit.”

The three reached a chasm, almost 20 meters from edge to edge. A river flowed lazily at the bottom of the gap, almost 50 meters away from the edge. A fall at this height would almost certainly break bones, and there was no help to be found this far out in uncharted space.

They could see the straight lines of the wreck’s engine compartment off in the distance. It was covered in vegetation and what seemed to be an old ruin had been built atop it. Probably a temple, Riana thought.

“Riana – biotic charge?” Levin’s question sounded more like a plea.

“Sorry – no combat training. I don’t know how.”

“Shuttle, then. You said there was no clearing? And the river goes all around?” Sev said, shaking his head.

Levin nodded. "None that I could scan from orbit, at least."

“You can drop us off on the other side with the shuttle. There’s no space to park, but if we contact you again when we’re done, you can pull us out,” Riana offered. 

“Then let us return to the corvette.” Sev turned, and then sighed. “Fuck. The biotics are in between us and the ship.”

“Can’t we just go around them?” Riana asked.

“No, unless the idea of cutting a new swath through the jungle interests you.”

“We’ll just ignore them. Walk past as if nothing  is wrong.”

Levin’s voice interrupted them. “Too late. They’re here. Surrounding us.” It was flat – emotionless.

Sev had noticed thanks to his 240 degree field of vision, but Riana whirled around, looking away from Sev and towards Levin. Levin had already unfolded his Avenger and was pointing it into the undergrowth. Sev also made to unfold the Striker from his back.  Levin had walked backwards until he stood side by side with Sev, so that the three formed a line parallel to the edge of the chasm.

Sev switched on the broadcast function on his omni-tool. This allowed speech inside his armor to be projected to the outside world via small speakers built into the armor. 

After a moment, one of the biotics pushed through the undergrowth to reveal themselves. The fact that they hadn’t even tried to hide suggested either overpowering strength or a desire for co-operation rather than conflict. Perhaps both, according to the HUD. If it got the first hit, that would probably be lethal.

It was one of the mammalian quadrupeds he’d detected earlier. It was close to 6 feet tall and had a horn on its head and wings on its torso, with a white coat. Its head and body were connected by a long neck, which was about the length of its body, giving the impression that its body had been shortened. Its eyes were large, about the third the size of its head, with purple irises. I wonder why? The light level here is not low. At a closer range, he could see its long head hair flowing as if it was caught in wind – Dangerous to have long hair; someone could pull on it and snap your neck – a sure sign of massive biotic power. He’d seen the same effect on human biotics that he’d worked with and killed over his career, although not to this extent. The mass effect field emitted it must be immense, Sev concluded. Prioritize.

After another few seconds a group of about 50 other quadrupeds also revealed themselves. They were shorter, about a meter tall, with large heads and comparatively small torsos. Riana was reminded of a form of animal from Earth – a ‘horse’, was that it? – but with different proportions, stereoscopic vision and biotic ability. Many of them were wearing golden helmets and armor plate, although the style looked ancient – Riana was reminded of the Roman period of human history. Must be gold paint or gold leaf, she concluded. There’s no way they’d be able to stand if it was real. Many of them were also carrying suitably ancient weaponry – metal spears resembling lengthened arrowheads were the weapon of choice. Those weapons were also leveled at the three.

In return, the three kept their weapons up. Riana’s pistol was held tightly in her hands, and her armor started to emit faint wisps of blue. Levin tried to summon his omni-tool discretely, but the sudden burst of orange light drew every alien’s attention – including the spear-holders’ – if only for a second. He pressed a button and a small, red image appeared next to his rifle. Incendiary ammo, Sev realized.

He noticed something odd about the readings on the quadrupeds. “The ones with horns have more biotic strength.”

The other two grunted, which Sev interpreted as acknowledgement.

The tall white quadruped tilted its head to the left and moved its mouth. Sev heard a lilting voice, constantly changing in pitch and volume. He recognized the dialect as a human language, but not a specific one.

His omni-tool beeped helpfully and established a translation. Apparently, the language was early 21st century English, an old human dialect. Odd. But convenient. At least we can communicate without dicking around with the language barrier.

“Greetings,” the creature said – the translator was not good at picking up emotions. “I am Princess Celestia. My people are known as ‘ponies’, and we hail from the country of Equestria. That is the country you are currently intruding upon. As the leader, I must ask you to…”

Sev had mentally tuned out at that point. He’d heard variations of this speech in the customs section of every starport he’d been through. Obey the law, political varren shit, intimidate with security, more self-serving varren shit. Really, it had become a bit of a routine.

Riana, meanwhile, let her brain run wild as adrenaline coursed through her. Ponies, a part of her thought, I doubt it. Appearances aside, these creatures likely had no relation to Equus ferus caballus.

The spear-holders seemed to hoist up their spears after their leader’s speech, although only slightly. Sev wasn’t worried about the spears – they were dark grey, suggesting basic iron or steel. There was no way it could penetrate his armor. He was worried about their biotic abilities, though. That large white pony, or Celestia as she had called herself, seemed to output the same amount of energy as an average cruiser.  Even the tinier ponies each emitted as much biotic power as an L5 level biotic. And that’s without any biotic amp implants.

Levin saw the spear tips moving upwards, away from them, and in return lowered the barrel of his Avenger slightly. Riana followed his lead, whilst Sev kept his Striker trained on Celestia.

A standoff, Levin noted absently, his former military training kicking in. The worst kind of battle. No tactics, just fighting. Massive casualties on both sides. Can’t resolve if both know what they’re doing or if tech difference is negligible. This time we have the tech, but they have numbers and superior biotics. Ah, shit.

Well, I can always hope for the best. Still, I should prepare for the worst.

Riana clutched her pistol in her hands. She recognized that these beings were powerful biotics – must have come from evolving in such an eezo rich environment, a detached part of her mind reasoned – but the fact that they had not attempted to kill her yet didn’t make her feel any better.

Outnumbered 50 to 3. Two men with guns against a small army of biotics. There's no worse odds than this. Sev clenched his fists. There's no better rush than this.

Celestia was obviously awaiting a response, for she did not attempt to speak further.

Levin took charge of the exchange. He switched on the broadcast speakers on his suit. “We’re here as visitors on this planet.”

“If so, why did we find a dead manticore amidst burning trees? Is destruction of the environment common for visitors to new worlds?”

Sev rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. If she was angry, she could just have said it out. “That manticore aimed to kill. I killed it before it killed me.” His omni-tool translated it into English, managing to rip out every single feeling in the words.

The group of ponies all reacted – some jumped at the word ‘kill’, whilst others merely leaned their heads back. Sev chuckled as he watched them. To have such an impact with a word. How will they react when they see blood?

One of the ponies, a white one with a red plume on his helmet, recovered and spoke. “You will address the Princess with respect!”

Most of the other armored ponies – guards or soldiers, probably – wore golden helmets topped with a blue plume. So the color of the brush represents rank, Riana thought from the sideline. She was quite happy to be out of this exchange. The atmosphere had taken on a heavy feeling, and she did not want to be close by when either side came to blows.

Sev snorted in response and narrowed his eyes instinctively, forgetting that the ponies could not see the gesture under his helmet.  He’d never had a liking towards bureaucracy or kowtowing out of procedure. Respect had to be earned; preferably in battle.

The red-plumed pony gasped at Sev’s snort and his eyes widened to almost comical proportions. But a moment later, he lowered his body and spread his legs into a battle stance – even footing on each hoof. The spears came back down to point at their chests, and Levin mentally swore, while raising his rifle in response. Back to the beginning.

Undeterred, Sev plodded forwards towards the white one. The red-plumed pony was directly beside her, so the move served to intimidate him as well. Judging by the rising hair in the back of his neck, it was working. Many of the other guards moved in to surround him, spears at the ready. He paused directly in front of Celestia, so close that there was only about 10 centimeters of space between them. He had to give her credit for standing her ground. Most aliens would have backed down. Then again, she could probably kill me with a warp attack. There’s that.

Celestia held her ground, although her instincts screamed at her to put some distance between herself and the alien. I will not be intimidated by force, she thought grimly. Whatever was going to happen, if it hurt her citizens she was going to stop it.

-&-

Given the chance for a closer look at alien life, Twilight Sparkle was not going to say no. The general had insisted on the 6 girls hanging behind the guards in case of an attack – she’d accepted once she’d gotten a promise that everypony would come back alive. The Princess had assured her.

At this range, Twilight could see three aliens at close range. The shortest one was still as tall as the Princess, but it had a slight frame. It walked on two legs, and it appeared to have no eyes. Instead, a semi-reflective piece of shell appeared to be its face. She could see through it, to see blue skin and a facial structure not unlike her own. The only difference was that the alien’s nose was stubbier than her snout, and it appeared that its eyes and mouth were on the same plane. Twilight could also sense that it was radiating magic – but it appeared that magic was coming from its entire body, like a pegasus or earth pony, rather than just a specific part. Even so, the level of magic was pitiful – she’d seen young fillies have stronger magic. It was holding a small, black object and shifting constantly.

The one in the middle was the giant that she’d seen earlier. It was also bipedal, but its build was massive. It seemed to have a hump on its back, similar to a camel. She examined its upper limbs as they moved; those limbs were each as thick as the Princess’s neck. Also, one of those limbs was holding a long, odd looking stick that seemed too straight to be natural – a spear, perhaps? Twilight concluded that this had to be the one that had killed the manticore – the other two didn’t look strong enough. She shuddered. Being unable to look at its face was also unsettling – or maybe that tetrahedral protrusion was its face? – and she switched her examination to the final alien.

The last one was in between the height of its companions. It was also tall and slight, although its hip area seemed to be abnormally wide compared to the stomach above it. It had protrusions that looked like spurs above its ankles, the feet ending in claw-like protrusions that reminded Twilight of talons. This one also had a semi-reflective shell on its facial area. Past that, she could see a face that was plated, with two beady black eyes sunken deep into its skull. It did not appear to have a nose. Perhaps its 'face' was a second helmet?

All of them were encased in a sort of exoskeleton, but unlike any insect or changeling exoskeleton, these were flat in some areas and curved in others. It appeared unnatural, but Twilight couldn’t be sure. She saw that the exoskeletons had markings in some places – cutie mark? Clan mark? – and resolved to devise a way of mutual communication. After all, alien landings are once-in-a-lifetime! 

Surprisingly, at least two of the aliens had known their language. It spoke Equestrian perfectly, even though its voice was monotone and devoid of any emotion. 

Then the massive one moved. Its steps made the earth shake slightly beneath her, and she realized that this alien must have been as heavy as the buffalo she’d met. It moved towards the Princess.

The guards panicked. They’d been trained, but they hadn’t faced an actual enemy like this in open combat. 

The general yelled at his ponies to quiet them and protect the Princess. He’d assumed the alien was making an attempt on the Princess’s life. 

The alien stopped in front of the Princess, and then slammed its fist into its own chest. The hollow sound reverberated off the trees, such was its volume. The guards grimaced but held fast. The girls all yelped in shock and jumped backwards.

The alien didn’t seem to move after that. Twilight took some deep breaths, and absently tried to discern the gesture. A form of greeting? An insult? Or a compliment?

Dash’s hiss surprised her, and she jumped yet again, to see two of the aliens moving towards her. A trick! The large one was a distraction!

Dash pushed Twilight back behind her, and then brought up her wings in an attempt to increase her apparent body size. Applejack pushed her way over to stand beside Dash. Behind Twilight, Fluttershy quailed. Rarity and Pinkie had moved close to Fluttershy to try and comfort her in their own ways; Rarity by cooing and Pinkie by – well, Twilight wasn’t sure, but it seemed to be working.

The two aliens loped closer. Twilight aimed and lit her horn, a signal that she was willing to defend herself and her friends. She couldn’t speak for fear of losing her concentration over her magic, but she hoped that the aliens would understand the gesture.

The two aliens moved closer, undaunted.

-&-

Spotting an opportunity, Levin motioned to Riana to follow him. He started to move around the cluster of ponies that had built up around Sev – only to be confronted by 6 others. These ones had hung back, and were not armored. Civilians.

A cyan pony was in front of the group, wings outstretched as if to shield them from Levin’s attacks. Beside it, an orange pony with a hat – the only one with decorative headgear here – had her head down and was pawing at the ground. Thinking of charging me, eh?. Behind them, a purple one stood, its horn glowing, wisps of power sparking off it into the air. Biotic attack. But it was the ponies even further behind that had the largest effect on Levin. A pink one, lacking horns or wings, and a white horned one crouched protectively over a winged, cream-yellow pony, which had its wide open eyes fixed on Levin’s helmet, seemingly staring right at him.

Those eyes. Filled with fear and terror.

He’d seen them before. 
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 5

--

It's so easy to see the galaxy in black and white. Gray? I don't know what to do with gray. – Garrus Vakarian, 2185 CE

--

Macedon, Solregit
25 years ago

Levin pulled the trigger of the Phaeston, stitching a series of blue holes across the man's torso. Behind him, a turian woman screamed. His mate, probably. Even as he fell, the man's talons tightened around the grip of his own assault rifle; but the weapon was lying flat against the floor, and the shots went wide. Levin kicked the rifle over to the corner of the room, and promptly blew the man's head into bloody chunks.

He looked over at the woman, and hesitated for a split-second before he heard Tavus's footsteps getting louder and louder. No time for indecision. He nudged the barrel of the gun up, and for that fraction of a second their eyes met.

Her body slumped to the floor, a hole between the eyes leaking blue blood onto the prefab floor. Then it started to twitch, as two children crawled out from under their mother's body. They were young; about 5 years of age, he guessed, from the length of their head-combs. Still, orders were orders.

The rifle buzzed, twice, and both of the children slumped to the ground. If it weren't for the holes in their heads, they might have looked like they were asleep.

Four bodies on the floor. Blue blood in an ever growing pool. Levin stood over the corpses, watching the results of his handiwork. The male's assault rifle, a lightweight version of the popular Avenger, lay in the corner; ironically, the weapon was the only thing in the room not covered in turian blood.

Tavus came up alongside him, and made a sign - religious, from his body posture. "Greater good, mate," he said to Levin, then turned and walked out of the prefab towards the transport.

-&-

Levin’s gaze met the pony’s. In that instant, he could see the turian woman’s fear and terror reflected in her eyes. He’d seen those eyes every time he’d closed his eyes, and here he was, rifle aimed at her, about to repeat what had happened 25 years ago.

“No!” he yelled.

Riana jumped about a foot in the air at the outburst, and even Sev, ever calm and unflappable, was surprised. Even the leader of the ponies had gazed over at him, a frown on her face. He’d forgotten to turn off the broadcast function. Some of the guards turned to face them, but the main group of guards was still focused on Sev. The group of 6 civilian ponies had shifted their gaze over to Riana.

“Levin?” Riana asked, voice quiet but clear, and deadly serious.

Sev, for his part, just stood there. He saw that he wasn’t in any particular danger yet, but the surrounding group of aliens was starting to encroach on his perceived personal space. Krogan territorial instincts screamed at him to lash out and teach them a lesson. His brain ordered a massive dose of adrenaline into his circulatory system in preparation for a fight. He’d learnt to fight it down over his 600 years of life, but that didn’t mean it was easy.

Levin and Riana were surrounded again, but this time by a smaller group of guards, around 10 ponies strong. One of them was wearing a green plume on his helmet, whilst the others had blue; the squad commander, both of them concluded. All of them were pointing spears at Riana’s chest.

It’s her biotics, Levin realized. They don’t recognize my rifle as anything more than a club. But they know about the mass effect – although how much, I cannot say.

Sev’s frustration threatened to boil over. For every step they took, the world seemed to yank them back to where they were before.

He let loose a guttural, primal roar. The translator broadcast the sound as spoken. The roar had the intended effect – all the ponies around him stepped back a few feet. Apparently, none of them wanted a fight. Sev felt a tad bit disappointed, before reason kicked in, and he stepped past the leader towards his employers.

A group of guards stood between him and his goal. Sev barely gave them a glance as he knocked them and their spears aside with a gauntleted hand. In the corner of his eye, he could see the Celestia, her head twisted around to look at him. He paid her no mind.

It was quite humorous to see the guards, probably the most elite of this country, be swatted aside like toys. From Sev’s perspective, they were.

One of the guards directly in front of him, wearing a green-plumed helmet, jabbed at him with the spear. So this one wants to fight. He chuckled.

The spear seemed to fly at him in slow motion, the metal glinting off a stray beam of sunlight. At this range, he could see all the imperfections in the spear – the finish was roughened by years of use, there were notches on the spearhead that spoke of former conflicts, and the spear shaft was pitted from years of impacts. A weapon worn down from battle.

Sev turned his Striker to show its right side to his opponent. The spear point glanced off the durasteel body of the rifle and continued to travel towards the stock. The guard-pony’s face changed from determination, to shock, and then Sev bore down on him swinging the rifle in an upwards crescent. The guard’s face at the point of impact featured widened eyes and a hanging mouth; the very epitome of fear. Sev enjoyed the sight for about a tenth of a second before the guard’s head snapped backwards with a sickening crunch of metal against bone. His body followed not long after, and he tumbled through the air for about a meter before hitting the ground, unmoving.

High on battle-song, Sev let out a roar, signifying his triumph over an opponent.

The remainder of the guards stood in shock for a split second, before dropping to action and forming a battle-line against the trio that now stood together. Some of them went to help their fallen comrade, who had blood dripping from his mouth. The three had switched positions with the ponies – now, the ponies had the river to their backs.

Sev ordered a retreat back to the ship. That was when the three noticed Celestia’s horn glowing.

Levin recognized the sign as an impending biotic attack and slid to the nearest cover – the forest to their side. Riana hadn’t moved, and stood slack-jawed in front of the formation that was rapidly closing. Sev, seeing her split-second hesitation, grabbed her waist in his left hand and threw her to Levin, who was waiting by the tree-line.

Now there was just the matter of the guards and the leader. Some of the guards saw his move and changed direction, but Sev’s roar made them reconsider, and in seconds Levin and Riana had melted into the forest. Sev heard a static-filled “Thanks” from his headset after he lost sight of them.

Surrounded by ring of guards, all of whom kept 3 meters away, Sev saw Celestia’s horn light up. Biotic attack. That meant either a warp to rip him apart, a throw to off-balance him or a stasis to hold him in place. He wasn’t particularly interested in finding out which.

Sev acted more on instinct and experience as he charged into the ring of guards, intending to head off into the forest. The guards in his path blanched but held firm, even as they quavered under the oncoming behemoth.

Even as the guards got closer and closer, a white field started to envelope him. He hadn’t been fast enough to dodge the attack. The servos in his armor strained to push his limbs forwards, but the air started to feel denser and denser until he felt like he was wading through concrete.

It was a stasis field. He’d experienced them before – the only way to escape would be to push through the field using raw power. He tried. The servos in his armor squealed as they strained to move his suit, fighting against the stasis field. It was for naught.

He sighed and accepted his fate. He couldn’t do anything else. As he was carried out of the forest like some helpless youngling, he caught some sleep in his suit. 
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 6

--

Only few people get what they deserve, good or bad. – Thane Krios, 2185 CE

--

Through the treeline, the two could see the shape of the corvette. It wasn’t difficult to spot. Hard lines contrasted well against the smooth curves that made up the landscape here.

They’d been hiking through the forest for about 30 minutes, before deciding it was safe to re-approach their vessel. Riana had reasoned that Celestia would have left for the capital, along with Sev, leaving behind a squad to apprehend the two. After all, the two of them hadn’t shown much aggression on first contact.

Levin had noticed that the locals seemed afraid of the forest, and they wouldn’t chase more than 10 meters in before turning back. That meant the wildlife had a nasty reputation, but Levin was confident in his skill with the Avenger. Luckily, they’d not run across any particularly dangerous wildlife.

“What was that about? Just now?” Riana asked as they crept through the forest.

“Hmm?” Levin replied. He felt a cold trickle run down his spine. This is not going to be a fun conversation.

“Why did you shout?”

“I…had a moment. That’s all.”

Riana arched an 'eyebrow', but she focused her attention on the vessel in the field in front of her. Levin did as well.

He could see a semicircle of 10 figures around the area of the airlock. Sunlight glinted off their golden armor. Troops.

Riana realized that they had a choice to make. They could easily overpower the guards stationed around the airlock, and in minutes the corvette would be in orbit. But that entailed leaving Sev behind. They could wait for him, but then they would be at risk of retribution.

“Should we save him?” Levin asked suddenly.

Riana turned his head to look at him, frowning.

“He’s a mercenary,” Levin continued. “He got himself caught.”

Riana continued to frown, but looked away. Usually, she would agree. She rubbed her hip and side. Adrenaline had dulled the pain of being thrown 3 meters, but that area remained sore. “Let’s get control of the ship first, and then we can talk about this.”

Levin spent a few minutes formulating a plan. His rifle fire could easily kill, or at least suppress, the guards. There was a plantation of trees to the left of the ship, about 50 meters away from the guards, while there was no cover from their position all the way to the ship. That meant that some speedy guards could take cover, and while they ran to the ship, attack them with biotics.

Levin considered relocating to the plantation area. They’d have the option of cover, but the element of surprise would be blown if they ran into any farm labour. And he really didn’t want to kill innocents.

My survival or theirs.

“We could attempt diplomacy,” Riana’s voice interjected, disrupting Levin’s mental planning.

Levin sighed. “You know what they did with Sev. Do you trust them that much?”

“I don’t want to exacerbate an already delicate situation.”

“Fine. But I’ll stay up here. Overwatch.”

Riana nodded, indicating that she understood, and then switched on her armor’s speakers. She walked approximately 10 meters to the side before changing direction, intending to meet the guards head on. Levin, meanwhile, went prone and looked down the sight of his rifle.

Riana immediately started to feel exposed without the cover of the trees nearby. She was the tallest thing on that field, minus the ship, and she was sure that the guards could see her easily. That was the point – to show that she meant no subterfuge.  She could see the some of the guards turn to her and regard her with what seemed to be cold indifference. Well, they haven’t attacked me yet. That’s good.

She was 10 meters away from the guards before they yelled out. “Halt!”

“This is my vessel,” Riana replied. “And where did you take my companion?”

Levin heard her through the radio. “Mine, actually,” he muttered.

Riana’s face twitched in irritation, and as she spoke 5 of the guards started to surround her. The other 5 stayed in their position, but Riana could see that they made glances over to her. Well trained, Levin noted from 150 meters away.

“Your team attacked my guard. As for the attacker, it’s being interrogated. Princess has taken it back to Canterlot Castle for detention,” one of the guards said. He’d flown to match Riana’s head-level. Riana noted that his wings were seemingly too small to support lift – there was some sort of mass effect occurring. Probably controlled by the wing muscles. His helmet plume was green, whilst the other guards wore blue helmet plumes. Senior officer, Riana concluded.

“Your guard attacked my team first,” Riana countered, whilst backing away, trying to keep all of the guards in her sights. Her voice was still cold.

The senior officer snorted, but his expression did not change. Riana started to feel a pit in her stomach – there seemed to be no way out of this but a fight. One that wasn’t going to last long, she knew. She tapped out a few instructions on her omni-tool to switch on the stun program.

The senior officer and his troops jumped backwards at the orange light covering Riana’s forearms, and then prepared to charge. For all they knew, the alien was preparing an attack. The horned ones – identified as unicorns by her armor VI – lit their horns.

“Attempt to stop me from entering my ship, and you will regret it,” Riana said.

The troops laughed in response. “Is that a threat?” the senior officer snarled. He was smirking.

Bastard. Riana sighed. “So be it.”

-&-

The alien’s response left Frost somewhat confused. She – according to the tone of her voice – did not attempt to attack them after that. Frost felt a cold feeling down his spine – something was very, very wrong…

He saw a flash of light from the Everfree’s treeline.

Milliseconds later Sword and Hammer slumped over to the ground. The unicorns seemed to have small, red blotches on their otherwise spotless golden armor…

He pumped his wings to gain altitude – in a panic, he’d abandoned all reason and rode the pegasus instinct to escape into flight. Then he remembered the flash from the forest. There it was –

– agony. Frost fell from the sky. He couldn’t think – the pain, the redness around everything he could see – and when he hit the ground, he just groaned. The pain seemed to magnify, so he tried to keep quiet. There were spots of black in his vision – through the haze of blood and pain he could see the alien over him, pointing some black thing at him – and then – 

-&-

Sev saw himself being levitated into the cell.

It was a tiny cell, by krogan standards; the height of the room barely cleared his hump, and he could take two steps to go from the cell bars to the back wall. They hadn’t removed his armor yet – from what he’d heard, they thought it was his skin.

The bars looked to be pig iron, placed such that there was approximately half a foot of distance between each bar. They looked rusted and disused – apparently, there wasn’t a lot of need for dungeons on this world.

The cell contained some hay, presumably to sleep on, and a bucket. Sev didn’t want to think about what that could be used for.

The white field surrounding him disappeared, and Sev fell unceremoniously onto the hard grey stone. There was a thick layer of dust on the walls and floor. He lay there for a while, moving his limbs about and hearing satisfying pops, and watched the dust fly up into the air. He sat up with his hump to the back wall and rolled his head about. According to his helmet VI, his captor, Celestia, was still nearby. There was no point in trying to escape when he would quickly be put back into jail.

He checked what he still possessed. They’d taken the Striker from him; pulled it out of his hands before entering the dungeon. He still had the knife strapped to his forearm, though. That should be enough. It would be quieter.

Outside the cell bars, a pair of horned guards stood, staring at him. Sev looked back at them.

After a minute of nothing happening, he rolled his eyes and summoned his omni-tool, switching to the holo function, and started to watch a bootleg film.

-&-

“How did it feel?” Levin asked, all the while tapping into his omni-tool.

“How did what feel?” Riana replied, shifting her weight from one foot to another. She looked down and grimaced upon seeing red splatters on her boots. She heard the durasteel doors sliding open with a loud, deep hum.

“Taking a life. The pony’s.” Levin walked into the airlock and Riana followed, boots clanking on the metal flooring.

Levin closed the airlock door and went into decontamination, Riana following behind. She frowned for a moment and glanced aside. “I felt … I don’t know. I wanted him to stop suffering. He was full of holes, bleeding out, the works … he would have died anyways.”

Levin nodded in acknowledgement, making the reflections of light on his visor move weirdly about. “Come on,” he said, moving into the main cargo bay. They’d moved the artifacts and relics from the shuttle to the right side of the cargo bay. Due to the small size of the corvette, there was only one deck, and both of the men walked past the door separating the cargo area from the living quarters.

Both of them sat down on the chairs once they’d reached the table. “Well, this is a right fuck-up,” Riana groaned, planting her face onto the tabletop. “We’ve killed off some of the locals, Sev is captured, and now we can’t even go outside without fear of being attacked by biotics.”

Levin had gone to the nearby refrigerator to pick up some ration bars; he chuckled in response. “Damn right. Speaking of Sev; should we save him?”

Riana looked up from the table, her head propped in her arms. “I’d say yes, we should.”

Levin cocked an eye-plate. The movement was tiny, but that he had even bothered surprised her. “You trust Sev that much? He’s a merc. He could kill us all if he wanted.”

Riana looked away, towards the cockpit. Her face remained blank. Levin pushed a levo ration bar across the table, and chewed away at his own food.

Riana turned her face towards him. “I thought you hired a reputable merc?” She picked up the ration bar and made an attempt to unwrap it.

“I did. My contacts said he was good. Reliable, too. He was also the cheapest one I could find,” Levin said between bites. “Mm, this is good. For rations.”

Riana rolled her eyes. “If we can gain his trust, we can work with him at cheaper rates. Rescue him to gain his trust.”

“He’s a krogan. They don’t feel gratitude. I’m not sure it’s even wired in their brains.” Levin had finished his bar and was in the process of dumping the wrapper into the incinerator.

Riana sighed. “Regardless, we need him for the trip back. We sell the relics on Invictus, and pirates will be near. A lone military corvette is as dangerous as a luxury cruiser to them. Besides, a big krogan is a good way of ensuring you get your money’s worth. And hiring another merc will be risky in the Terminus.”

“Fine.”

Riana nodded and smiled. “I’ll stay in the ship. I can’t fight.”

Levin checked his Avenger. It was an older model, so it relied on a radiator system rather than thermal clips, unlike the newer guns. “I’ll take the Predator too, then. And the flamethrower. Just in case.”

Riana had walked over to the cockpit by now. “OK. The VI will help me fly, right?”

Levin nodded an affirmative, then started slightly. “Wait…where are you off to?”

“Canterlot. We’re going to have to find out where exactly that is, but after that, I’ll get as close to the place as possible in this and you can take the shuttle closer.”

“How, exactly, are you going to find out?”

“We ask the locals.”

“After putting holes in some of them?”

“We can’t do anything else.”

> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 7

--

They use any means at their disposal to achieve their goals, no matter how reprehensible. – Article on Krogan Battle Masters, “Galactic Codex Essentials Edition”, 2183 CE

--

Sev felt his armor support him like a seat as he was lifted out of the cell and moved into another room. Celestia hadn’t bothered to do the heavy lifting this time; she was absent, actually, and the job had been handed over to about a dozen horned ponies. The corridors had been so filled with them that it looked like a central street in rush hour.

This new room had a wooden table in the middle of it, bolted to the floor. The walls were white. The floor was solid stone. There was only one exit and entrance – a wooden door with a gate of iron behind it. Interrogation.

He was dropped onto a tiny chair, which instantly crumbled under Sev’s 1 ton weight. 

Sev chuckled as flakes of wood drifted downwards around him. Even sitting down on the floor, he could still look across the table at eye-level to the interrogator.

The interrogator was a purple, horned pony – his VI identified her as a ‘unicorn’ – with highlighted purple hair. It looked female in comparison to the guards flanking her; both white. One had a red coat covering his upper torso, and seemed to wear no armor, but the other was covered from head to rump in full gold armor. Both of them were unicorns as well.

The red-coated one looked to be an officer, a high ranking one at that, according to the gold trim on his clothes. Yet he didn’t look particularly strong or fearsome. Sev snorted in contempt. In krogan society, or what remained of it, command was established through fear of the officer or respect for his prowess in battle. This officer was probably promoted based on family connections.

The other male did not appear to be too special. He was a large specimen, dwarfing even the male officer. Amongst the three, the purple one was the most dangerous, however. She had at least the biotic capability of the other two combined.

The purple one took a seat on the other end of the table, closer to the door. She was flanked by the males, both of whom glared at Sev. He ignored them and focused on the female.

Across from him, Twilight was examining Sev. Now that the alien was exposed under the light of the interrogation room, rather than hidden the murky gloom of the Everfree, she could see the features on its surface clearly. It was encased in a smooth, matte maroon outer carapace that was also scored with several lines placed in neat rows. In between slabs of red shell, flexible material similar to black silk lay underneath. The alien had an oddly shaped head that seemed to extend to its lower back. Its two eyes didn’t have irises or the like; instead, they were yellow-orange discs that sat flush with its shell. Twilight was reminded of changeling eyes. This one appeared to be some sort of insect.

The alien’s upper torso appeared to be wider than its lower legs; how could it stay upright? Its upper limbs ended in grippers similar to three claws. Its lower limbs were similar in shape to bear paws.

“I’m Twilight Sparkle, protégé of Princess Celestia,” she said, voice high but wavering slightly. Try as she might, she could not suppress a shudder as she took in the creature’s size and what it had done to the chair. “And you are…?”

Sev continued to look at her for a few seconds, before realizing that she was talking to him. “Sev.”

Twilight jumped back a small distance as the deep rumble of Sev’s voice reverberated around the small room. She squinted slightly. “And you represent…”

“Myself.”

“So – who are your companions?” Twilight asked, head cocked to the side and eyes wide.

“My employers.”

Twilight sighed. “Not one of many words, hmm?”

That wasn’t really a question, Sev thought. “Where is my equipment?”

Twilight had been instructed not to reveal any information to the ‘guest’, and she really didn’t want to disappoint. She deflected the question with one of her own. “Why did you torch the grove near the Caves of Harmony?”

Sev stayed silent for a while. Caves of Harmony? What name is that? He settled on, “We had to land our shuttle. Where is my equipment?”

“Shuttle?”

Sev sighed, and said nothing. He pulled up a holographic picture of a Kodiak shuttle.

“I assume the dead manticore was your fault?”

“Manticore?” Of course, that animal. “Yes, I killed it. Where is my equipment?”

Twilight shuddered. “Why?”

Sev rolled his eyes under his helmet, but of course Twilight couldn’t see that. She frowned at his silence, before speaking. “So…where are you from?”

 There. Then they’ll ask what I am. Then they’ll dissect me. Well, at least I memorized the way out when they brought me in.

Sev sighed in response, all the while bringing up the omni-tool. The flash of orange light startled all three ponies. The two males lowered their heads until their horns lined with Sev’s head, while Twilight slowly crept forwards towards the hovering display.

Sev ignored all of them and brought up the codex, a basic repository of information. He highlighted the planet ‘Tuchanka’.

Tuchanka, the krogan homeworld, boasts extreme temperatures, virulent diseases, and predatory fauna. Around 1900 BCE, the krogan discovered atomic weapons and promptly sent their planet into a nuclear winter. The majority of the population retreated to underground bunkers, and krogan culture slipped into a dark age dominated by tribal clans.
In 80 CE, decades into the Rachni Wars, the Salarian Union made first contact with the primitive krogan and initiated a "cultural uplift" to shape them into a modern army capable of confronting the rachni. During this uplift, the salarians constructed the Shroud facility on Tuchanka to shield the planet from harmful forms of solar radiation. Later, during the Krogan Rebellions, reproductive rates were curtailed by the genophage, ensuring the krogan remained a species in decline – and Tuchanka a desolate wasteland.

As the omni-tool helpfully intoned this information in a steady, monotone voice, Sev noticed Twilight clambering onto the table and creeping ever closer. Didn’t she know about personal space? He clenched one hand into a fist, ready to slam it into her face.

Luckily for her, she noticed and jumped backwards almost a meter, landing awkwardly on the table edge, with her forelegs draped across the tabletop and her hind legs upright. She groaned. Interrogations were definitely not fun, even if the subject was alien.

The officer strode around the left side of the table to Sev. He stopped a sizable distance away from those massive arms. “You don’t touch her, got it?” he roared, making the question sound more like an order than a request.

Captain Armor had read the report that the General had sent him; the alien was highly dangerous, and under no circumstance was any guard to approach it alone. Only recorded weakness was magic. Good thing he wasn't a normal guard, Armor thought grimly. With two powerful mages, the alien should know not to attempt anything stupid.

He remembered his failure to protect his wife-to-be, and how she'd suffered in the caverns under the city whilst he cavorted with an impostor. He wasn't going to fail again.

Sev growled. He had never responded well to orders. That was one of the reasons he’d left Tuchanka and the Blood Pack to work as an independent mercenary. Now this tiny alien expected him to obey! After a moment’s pause, he chuckled. At least the officer had guts to go closer to him. Not many humans or salarians could do that.

The officer’s eyes widened as he heard the chuckle, and the guard moved in on the other side of the table to flank Sev. Meanwhile, Twilight was trying to calm the officer down – maybe they’re related? Good to know – but it wasn’t working.

“Where’s my equipment?” Sev said, over the drone of the omni-tool. The officer and guard stopped for a moment, before the guard leveled his horns at Sev.

“We’ll give it back when we determine it’s safe,” the officer snarled, flicking his ears. Sev noted how similar the action was to a turian’s mandibles.

Sev snorted. “Don’t piss in my ear and tell me it’s raining. Where is my gun?”

At this the officer’s face scrunched up in an approximation of a human frown; his horn began to flare up, as well as the guards; and Sev could see Twilight’s face, eyes widened, pupils as tiny pinpricks, ears splayed back, rearing away from the scene; but he focused on the guard. He pushed forwards with his legs, pumping all of his energy into the swing of his right arm. 

Through the roar of adrenaline flooding his bloodstream, he could savor the sights of the impact in slow motion; the guard’s eyes widening as they focused on the metal closing on his face; his mouth opening slowly, much slowly than Sev’s arm was moving; and then Sev felt a small resistance on his right forearm as the armor met the guard’s face, and a spray of blood shot out of the guard’s mouth, crimson against the white wall; but his head kept going, supported by Sev’s forearm, into the wall; and a red splatter appeared at the point of impact; the guard stood awkwardly for a millisecond, before slumping onto the ground, a red trail following his head down to the ground.

Twilight stood in shock, unable to comprehend what was happening. Everything had gone so wrong. Even now the guards outside were rushing in, all unicorns, ready to deal with the alien – Sev – who’d drawn blood in front of her.

Sev grabbed the guard by the head and whirled around, and just as the officer shot a stasis field at his location, he let go; and he watched as the body of the guard swung around like a massive, fleshy boomerang before slamming into the officer’s side. The hit was indirect, Sev noted – I need more practice for that – but it had the intended effect. The officer crumpled under the weight of his fully armored subordinate, but before he could react Sev pulled him out of the pile by the neck and held the officer in front of him. The officer wheezed.

Sev faced a veritable legion of unicorns; aside from Twilight, there were an additional 20 guards that lined up behind her. No matter. He had a hostage. Now he had at least some leverage over his captors.

They’d also left the interrogation room door open, in their haste. Sev’s helmet VI warned him of a few more biotics outside – probably unicorns as well. The only aliens on this planet that he'd encountered so far that could somewhat hurt him. He had to admit that his captors weren’t stupid. No doubt some of them were already off to warn Celestia. He had to move fast.

“Do as I say or I’ll snap his neck,” Sev roared, waving the officer around in front of him, just as the omni-tool finished blabbering. The room was deathly quiet after that, the silence only broken by the officer’s wheezing.

“All of you, come into this room. Leave the door unlocked. Line up against that”–he pointed to the back wall–“wall. Get to it.”

The officer nodded as well. Or, at least, he tried to. The pressure around his neck was making it difficult to breathe, let alone move any neck muscles.

His subordinates, all golden armored guards, followed Sev’s order, as well as Twilight. Sev moved around the outer area of the room, keeping the officer in between the ponies at all times. That way, any unicorns that tried to use biotics on him would risk friendly fire.

Twilight’s face showed pure and utter horror as she saw her brother being dragged out of the room, lifted by his neck. Why did I agree to this? 

Backing out of the room, Sev closed the interrogation room door. The iron reinforcement gate behind the door appeared to be locked using several keys, of which Sev pulled out of the pockets of the officer.

Sev didn’t ask the officer for where his gun was. There was too much of a risk that the officer would lead him into an ambush. He could always replace the gun.

The guard at the entrance to the jails had his jaw so open upon seeing the pair that Sev could have put his fist in his mouth cavity. It was a pegasus, according to his onboard systems; a creature that could fly. Sev didn’t know whether this alien could cast biotic fields, so he edged past him into the exit, keeping the officer in between.

Without his gun, the best chance of escape would be through stealth or coercion. His massive bulk prevented stealth, so he would have to keep his hostage alive until he was back at the ship. Assuming they hadn’t left without him already.

Sev remembered the route to the entrance of the castle. He also remembered that there were a ton of ponies running around, especially in the entrance section. That meant he’d have to go through another entrance, unless he wanted to face a battalion of troops and their leader. At least that would be a fun way to die. They’d close in on him no matter what; he was too different to hide in this place. All that changed was how fast the noose tightened.

He needed to get out of the castle fast. Inside the castle, he was restricted to the corridors and rooms – outside, he had a whole city of alleyways and holes to hide in, at least until his employers got there. If they bothered at all.

There had to be a servant’s entrance. That would probably be near the servant’s dormitories, if they were on-site, or near the back or the sides, hidden away so that the higher-class wouldn’t see servants exiting and entering. Problem was, it would take ages to find one.

Sev weighed his options. No doubt the group of unicorns he’d locked up had broken out by now – biotics were notoriously useful. He was also closer to the main entrance…

 What’s life without a bit of risk?

Well, it would be safe.

He sighed and kept walking forwards, towards the main entrance. When he’d been jailed, they’d brought him in a manually operated carriage that landed in the front garden, in between the outermost gate and the castle’s main door. Thanks to his wide field of vision, he could see the number of guards stationed – two by the gate and two by the door as per standard operating procedure. A total of 4, along with roving patrols in the sky and on the grounds.

He’d had tougher jobs. Really, the only unknown here was Celestia, and maybe that purple one, Twilight. Still, they’d have to contend with the distance he would put between himself and them.

He spotted the entrance, a massive golden archway that was open to the outside. To the left, a staircase led upwards, and then to opposite sides of the top floor – to the right, the archway. He couldn’t see nor sense anyone near the railings on the floor above, or on the staircases.

Huh. Odd.

He charged out of the archway, entering the castle gardens – vibrant green meadows interspaced with a multitude of colors, marred through the center by a paved stone path that led directly to the outer gate. As he went under the arch, he saw the two guards next to it jump, eyes widened; but he didn’t stop to savor the sight.

A dull ringing sounded out from somewhere in the castle, and the guards by the outer gate started to close the gate by way of a mechanism. Sev increased his speed, tilting forwards to use his head and shoulder as a battering ram, and clamping his hostage to his side.

10 meters. He would be at the gate in 6 strides.

One of the guards looked up, puzzled at the source of the shaking ground; he found a massive monster bearing down on the gate, and by extension, him. All that Royal Guard training evaporated from his mind as he jumped to the side, covering his head with his hooves in a prone position.

The other guard noticed his comrade’s reaction and stopped for a moment.

That was enough for Sev to charge through the half-closed gate. The gap didn’t fit him, of course, but he didn’t stop. He slammed into the gate bars, the officer clamped to his side under the crook of his arm, and the gate burst open, the metal warping like putty on impact.

Shining Armor squeezed his eyes shut as the golden metal bars of the gate rushed closer and closer at him. He tried to compress himself to his captor’s side, to avoid being splattered on the bars. How ironic. Killed by the security features I set up. He was limited in how much he could move, however; ‘Sev’ had gripped him such that his horn pointed out in front of them, meaning he was staring at the floor if he looked forwards.

Armor heard a massive bang as the gate-doors sprang outwards, and a jolt of pain shot down his horn from the tip. Shocked, he looked up at his own horn. Or what remained of it.

The horn tip had broken off on impact with the gate. The stump of the horn was rough, like the end of a broken stick, and he could see small blue sparks fly off the broken end. After the immediate shock, the pain had throbbed into a dull haze, and Armor fought to stay awake as his brain told him to give in and sleep. His brain won the battle after 10 seconds of internal fighting.

Sev hadn’t stopped running. There was a path that lay adjacent to the castle, apparently heavily trafficked according to the number of ponies on it.  The land next to the castle walls lay bare for about 50 meters, before suddenly coming to a Victorian-era style mansion that lay on one side of the path. On the opposite side of the road, another mansion stood. This one was in Tudor style, according to Sev’s omni-tool. The homes of the rich.

Down that path, Sev could see additional, smaller streets that branched off the main road, most likely leading to other areas of the city. From his time on the chariot, he could remember that the city was built on the slopes of a mountain, the castle at the very top, and the slums at the very bottom. In between lay the middle class, represented by blocks that got more ornate and larger the higher up the mountain they were. He’d also spotted a grey line snaking from this city to the approximate area of the landing site – a road or a railway system. Either way, it pointed towards his way back to orbit.

The rich area had the least ponies in it, and was also the most open. Against enemies with control of the air, he’d be spotted instantly. Sev resolved to get down the city as soon as possible. He’d have a better chance of hiding in the slums, where blind alleys and tunnels would be plentiful. Furthermore, the guards and leaders probably wouldn’t risk friendly fire amongst the larger population in the slums. Hopefully.

He noticed that the officer he’d taken hostage had stopped shaking, and appeared to have his eyes closed. Either he was dead, unconscious or it was a trick. No matter. He wasn’t difficult to carry anyways.

He ignored the stares of the ponies that stopped to gawk at him as he rushed down the main path. They weren’t in his way, so he didn’t bother himself with them. Some of them, the ones with wings, shot out into the sky in the direction of the castle. If this continued, he’d be leaving a trail of citizens reporting his last known location, giving the guards a rough route.

Still, he couldn’t do anything about that without any gun by his side. Unlike most krogan mercenaries, Sev chose to carry only one weapon or two around with him, rather than the usual four. He preferred to master his weapons. The Striker had been his first gun, given to him by his father, and it was the one he’d used in the Blood Pack, before striking out as an independent…

What am I doing? Reminiscing? I’m getting soft. Damn it.

He heard the VI beep, and glanced upwards. A small group of guards, these ones with wings, flew overhead. He knew he stuck out on the street, being almost 3 times the height of the locals.

One of them banked to the left and flew back to the castle. The other two stayed high above Sev, circling like two herbivorous, 4-legged vultures. Smart. That way, they can keep track of me while one of them relays info back to command.

The road soon split into two paths, both with shallow staircases. A cast-iron railing kept the populace from slipping off the paths into the roofs of the buildings below. Sev wasn’t worried about that.

The railing was approximately a meter high and broke apart like cardboard when Sev charged into it, letting him and his hostage fall 2 meters onto the sloped rooftop of the building below.

The roof crumbled beneath him, splintering into wooden shards that fell alongside Sev. Evidently, the roof had not been built to withstand a 1 ton weight travelling at speed. He crashed into the flooring below – the room he was in appeared to be a bedroom of some sort – before an ominous creaking sounded out from the wooden floorboards below.

Now that he’d stopped running, he looked around. The walls were white plaster, clean and well maintained, and some paintings of landscapes and portraits hung on each wall.The room had a white closet inset into a wall, and on the opposite wall was an open door. Behind that door lay a shower system. There was also a two-person bed, made from hardwood, but the white sheets were tousled only on one side. The other side had a pony sleeping under it – a female one, with a horn.

Sev clambered to his feet just as the pony awoke. She propped her head on the top of the headboard, staring at him – an alien being covered in dust, taller and bulkier than a Diamond Dog and currently holding the Captain of the Unicorn Guard by the neck.

She started to scream as Sev stood up – and the creaking floorboards couldn’t bear his weight anymore, and crumbled, sending Sev downwards another floor.

This time he landed on hard stone. Looking upwards, through the hole in the bedroom and the one in the roof, he could see one of the flying ponies, still circling. They evidently thought he was still in the building. He was, but he wasn’t planning to be there for long.

He was now in a kitchen area, apparently, looking at the stove, kitchenware and coolant-based fridge. White countertops surrounded him, and there was a pony in front of him as well – a unicorn. This one had a small stature and was wearing an Earth-style cooking apron.

Come to think of it – everything here seems to be related to humanity. Did human civilization and this one get the same progenitor? Oh well.

The apron-wearing pony gasped and reared back, exposing his chest and belly. Big mistake. Sev slammed a fist into his sternum and he fell back against a countertop, unmoving.

Sev stomped out of the kitchen, armored boots clacking on the floor, and found the main door. In between him and the aforementioned door was a male unicorn – likely the other occupant of the bed on the floor above. He wore a human-style suit and tie, as well as a monocle, and looked like he’d never been to a gym in his life.

So Sev chose to ignore him, charging directly at the door like a living battering ram. The doorjamb splintered under the force of the impact. The door whipped to the side in an arc, but luckily for the property owners, the hinges held. The door itself rebounded slightly at the end of its arc; such was the speed at which it had moved.

Sev was out none too soon. Behind him, three airborne chariots filled with biotics – unicorns – approached. He kept running. According to the restaurants and housing around him, this area was the upper middle-class zone, which meant that he’d made it one third of the way down.

-&-

“Hey there,” Levin said, sitting against the side of the shuttle. The bodies of the guards had been dragged behind the vehicle, but there was still a trail of red smeared across the airlock floor.

He’d discussed second-contact details with Riana. General advice told him to make himself as small as possible, to reduce apparent threat, whilst retaining the ability to defend oneself. Thus, Levin had his assault rifle cradled lazily in his arms.

The orange pony turned and gasped, rearing back a little. “What are you – I – you’re one of them!” Levin recognized her as one of the civilians he’d seen back in the forest – the one with the hat, at the front of her group.

According to the translator, she had a thick accent; Southern USA, 2000 CE to be precise. Levin was grateful for the auto-translate feature.

Both of them examined the other.

Levin saw an orange, wingless and hornless pony, which his VI simply tagged as ‘pony’. She was definitely female, according to high pitch of her voice compared to the officer from earlier.

Applejack saw an alien covered in blue, shiny shelling.  It resembled a wine glass that had two limbs extending from the rim of the bowl and two longer legs that shot out from the bottom of the foot. A head seemed to be floating above the bowl part of its body. It appeared to have talons for hooves.

“No, really?” Levin deadpanned, rolling his eyes despite knowing that the pony would be unable to see the gesture. “Can you point me to a place called ‘Canterlot’, by any chance?”

Applejack jumped a bit as she heard the alien’s voice. It was odd, like there were 2 voices speaking over one another, saying exactly the same thing – the only difference being that one voice was deeper than the other. She couldn’t tell what it was.

“Yes, I could,” she said, facing him. She’d hunched down and started pawing at the ground while she spoke.  “But why do you want that information? Well?”

Aggression, Levin noted. And I was just asking. Huh. Maybe I should start shooting next time, see where it gets me.

“Well,” Levin started, and then paused to think. My friend was…no, she’ll connect me with Sev and she won’t tell. I really want to visit because it sounds nice…yeah, she’ll definitely buy that. “I have some unfinished business there.”

The orange pony cocked an eyebrow, slowly standing back up. “Really? You did ‘business’ in a place that you didn’t know the name of?”

Levin mentally swore. “Yeah.  Look, can you just point me to it?” His talons started tapping out a rhythm on the side of the rifle.

“Things don’t add up. You’re lying,” she said, eyebrows furrowed.

Levin exploded. “I never lie! I’m not that low!”

The orange pony stumbled backwards, ears folded back against her head. She’d never heard such a response from anypony she’d ever accused before. They’d attempt to deny the claim that they were lying in that one situation – she’d heard all variants of ‘I’m not lying’ – but she’d never heard somepony say that they never, ever lied. And with such conviction! She could hear it even through the alien’s odd voice.

Levin took several deep breaths at the pony’s reaction, shaking his head. He’d overreacted, again. He was a turian, for Spirits’ sake! He should have more self-control than that!

Then again, that accusation was unwarranted. She should have known.

Really? Even when no one told her of turian culture?

Dammit. They’re all like humans. You’d expect different cultures have different ideas about what’s right and wrong, but no…

After an awkward pause, the orange pony shifted her weight from one side to another. “You didn’t need to take it like that…”

Levin sighed. “Never mind, I’ll ask someone else. Thanks for nothing.”

Applejack blinked as she heard those words. She’d always been seen as dependable and loyal. That was part of who she was. She snorted. “You’re not a nice fellow.”

“No, I’m not,” Levin replied, standing up.

He turned to the shuttle and shut the outer airlock door with his omni-tool. The orange pony stood speechless as she witnessed the large metal door sliding downwards until it met the ship’s flooring with a clunk.

“That went well,” Levin remarked over the radio.

Riana sighed in response. On the headset, it sounded like a burst of static. “To be honest, that could have gone in any direction. She could have lied to you. Even if she did reveal a location, we wouldn't know whether or not she was telling the truth, and we’d be wasting our time.” She paused for a moment. “I have an idea.”

> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 8

--

Hostages only work if your enemy cares that they live. – Commander Shepard, 2185 CE

--

“The ship has a large antenna. If he has a signal up, I can get it, and we can home in on his location. But his omni-tool antenna is too small to pick up any of my transmissions. I can get us higher, but you’re piloting the shuttle back down.”

Levin opened up the shuttle’s side door and went for the cockpit. “If not, I’ll have to rely on sight.”

--

It was just as well that Sev had remembered to switch on his rescue signal as he saw the corvette rising slowly into the air on blue jets of fire. Flares had been made obsolete; they were finite and only lasted as long as the chemical in them. The rescue signal was a low-frequency radio wave that was specifically designed to override all commonly used channels on nearby passing spaceships in about 10,000 km radius, for as long as the omni-tool had power. And since power was provided by rotation of dynamos in the joints of the armor, as well as piezoelectric strips at the sole of the boot, it was not a problem to Sev. Finally, there was an incentive for rescuers to save an unlucky soul. As the signal blocked commerce channels, business in the area would be severely hampered. The faster the signal was off, the faster communications could resume. Of course, that function led to massive penalties for improper use.

Sev guessed that being marooned on an alien planet, along with toxic air and plant matter, counted as an emergency.

The omni-tool lit up briefly to confirm that the signal was being broadcasted. In seconds, it shimmered off again.

The officer had noticed, and was tilting his head back as far as the grip around his neck would allow.

They’d reached the middle part of the city by now. He could see the buildings change from one level to another – construction materials changed from marble and quartz to brickwork. The buildings around them started to close in, and the streets became rougher and narrower. Sev didn’t mind. Every pony on the streets tried to press themselves into the walls of the buildings adjacent to avoid the oncoming giant. Since there were more ponies here, that made for a sight similar to one at a Spanish bull run. He was reminded of the Earth favelas he’d seen in the vids.

The unicorns in the chariots overhead, curiously, did not try to disembark; rather, they were just following him. Sev started to feel a slight tingle – the mercenary’s intuition, they called it. Few dared to ignore such a feeling. There was a trap somewhere, but he had no choice but to continue running forwards and down the city.

He stopped temporarily at a railing. Downwards, he could see the road through the slums – a slalom with myriad tunnels and alleyways branching off on either side of the main road. To the direct left, a train-station lay. Honks and puffs of smoke wafted over to where he was.

He looked upwards. The corvette hung lazily over the city, like a guardian angel. He could see a small speck separate from the ship, growing bigger and bigger as it moved downwards, circling the city. The shuttle.

To the right, there was a clearing of some sort. An open fountain, with a statue of two ponies standing high, was in the center. He recognized one of them as the one in the forest – Celestia. Clear water spouted from her horn, down into a basin. Plumbing. Advanced for a medieval civilization. Green grass surrounded the fountain, and four well-groomed trees stood in a square around it. Most importantly, there was a clearing, and then a sheer cliff off the furthest side to him, blocked by a metal railing.

The shuttle would be able to land there. Sev made his way over and waited with his back to the railing.

-&-

The general cursed.

He should have seen this happening. Shining Armor should have been given a short period of R&R following that blasted wedding, as well as some therapy for his ordeal. He’d refused, saying that his duty overrode his personal health.

He should have known Armor felt guilty about what had happened to his wife. That would have led to a desire to micromanage everything, protect everyone. And in the end, he had overreached. Now Equestria was going to pay for this lapse in judgment with the loss of one of their finest.

The chariots clattered down in front of Harmony Park. It was a fairly small park, barely 2000 square feet, thanks to the limited space in Canterlot city. Already, the place was deserted; all civilians had run off, scared by the ‘monster’. That made his job easier. He wouldn’t have to worry about their safety.

They’d all seen the alien vessel lift off. That meant that Frost and his squad had neglected their duty, or something made them neglect their duties. The general knew Frost. He was ambitious, but not stupid. He wouldn’t want to slack off – he valued the prestige of a higher rank. That meant the first reason was unlikely. The second made him shudder.

The wheels of the chariot clattered as it struck the ground. The pegasi pair in front saluted, and as soon as he got off, they flapped their wings hard, shooting into the sky. Around him, a unicorn squadron stood at attention. They had been on the other chariot, which joined the first once everypony had been unloaded.

They’d been instructed to wait – several unicorn squads had been called from the train station and the slums to their location. Their trap had failed to spring. The alien had gone in a completely illogical direction – into a dead end. It was like it was waiting for them…

The general looked around at his squad. Many of them were amongst the ones that had been locked in the interrogation room – they hungered for vengeance, yet were tempered by fear. Amongst them, the Element of Magic, Twilight, stood. She’d refused to be left behind; it was her brother at stake. Besides, the general could sense her magical potential. She would be a valuable asset, but lacking any training, she’d have to be heavily protected.

A glint caught the general’s eye, and he looked upwards. It was a white dot in the sky. He could sense the magical power emanating from it. Celestia. He smiled.

Two more chariots rattled to a stop behind the group, signifying the arrival of more unicorn squadrons. Only one of the scouts remained – the other two had flown off to retrieve the Pegasus Guard. The newly-arrived unicorns groaned as they disembarked, rolling their legs and hips. The chariots weren’t designed to carry more than 2 ponies at a time, and even with the cargo extension, it had been a tight fit.

Shadows erupted from the ground alongside the sound of wing-beats. The Pegasus Guard was here.

The general arranged his squads around the entrance of the park. It wasn’t that large, really. The alien stood in the middle of the clearing, behind the fountain, holding Armor in a stranglehold.

The general glanced upwards. The white speck had grown bigger – enough for him to see that it was not actually his Princess, but an odd, cuboid object that also emitted blue flame…

He cursed again. Charging his horn, he attempted to throw it off course. He missed.

This was a problem. That flying object was a wild-card; he knew nothing about it. It was not natural, for sure. Everything needed flapping wings to move – this one could do so with fire. A hot air balloon? He was sure it wasn't any of theirs...

The faster the Princesses got here, the better.

-&-

Levin swore.

Riana had stayed with the ship, making sure it hovered exactly where it did. They’d found Sev in a city built on the slopes of a mountain – by the looks of it, it was a large one. The corvette’s VI was a black market military version he’d bought off Omega’s stores, but even then the most delicate operations required a brain to pull off.

He’d almost caught some anti-air fire – a blue ball had rushed past the back of the shuttle, barely 10 meters from the hull. By the looks of it, it was a biotic ‘throw’ projectile. Just as well that it didn’t hit. If it did, he’d be flung around like a rag doll thanks to the lowered mass of the shuttle.

He could see a cloud of shapes in the air, closing with the shuttle. Sunlight glinted off them, revealing their golden armor. Guards. They wouldn’t be able to penetrate the shuttle’s hull armor – but they could knock it around. Levin doubled the mass, and as the shuttle lurched suddenly, he redirected the excess energy into the thrusters.

Sev stood at a small clearing near the edge of the cliff. Levin could see him through the tinted frontal window. On the other side, a collection of golden forms stood facing Sev – likely troops and guards.

A thump sounded from the cargo hold, but the craft didn’t even flinch. Levin made the turian approximation of a smile, pulling back the skin underneath his plates. This had the unintentional effect of flicking his mandibles outwards against the helmet he wore, making a clack.

The thumps started to increase in frequency. Levin ignored them and focused on landing the shuttle. He was about twenty meters away from the cliff edge, and now he began the task of inching the shuttle closer to Sev.

He landed square in the middle of the clearing, the jets of flame kicking up little clouds of dust and soil. Levin shifted in the cockpit seat until he could reach the Avenger hanging on the back of the cockpit door. “Sev, you look like you need help.”

“Extraction, yes. The soldiers, no.” Judging by the tone of his voice, Sev didn’t feel any fear at all. In fact, he seemed… bored.

Levin collected the rifle, stalked out of the cockpit door and took position to the side of the cargo-bay door. He tapped out an order on his omni-tool, and the door split into two parts, sliding to reveal a standoff between a lone krogan and a veritable army of pony soldiers.

Levin’s VI alerted him to the large concentration of biotics amongst those troops. Judging by before, their abilities were not artificially amplified, which meant that he couldn’t hack their amps to disable their powers. He’d have to distract them, or throw off their aim somehow.

Sev had heard the shuttle’s approach through his headset, although just barely. Blood and adrenaline pounded through his ears, distorting every word and every sound. Truth be told, he hated fighting biotics. They were the most annoying of enemies – capable of disabling him, at least temporarily, single-handedly. He’d always prioritized them ahead of other enemies.

Levin looked at Sev. He wasn’t holding a weapon in his massive hands, but rather, a hostage. This one in particular looked important. He wore clothes that were trimmed with gold, and had all sorts of frill on it. Levin was reminded of some of the older turian uniforms during the turian Industrial Era. They prized status over camouflage or protection.

“Where’s your gun?” Levin queried, genuinely surprised. Mercenaries treated their weapons like babies – thanks to constant use, many developed sentimental attachments to the older guns. The fact that he was missing his weapon suggested that he’d lost it unwillingly – which suggested that Sev’s escape had been quick and brutal. He certainly didn’t have the time to search his place of capture for his gun.

“Bastards have it,” Sev spat, ignoring the offended and confused looks that the ponies gave him. Evidently he hadn’t switched off the suit speakers.

The both of them swore in tandem as they spotted a white, winged shape pop out from behind the corner of a nearby building, behind the army of ponies. Celestia was flanked by another winged, horned pony – but this new one was a darker shade, and had a mane that was mostly dark blue. Following them was another winged, horned pony – a garishly pink one. The three all possessed massive biotic power, according to his armor's onboard microcomputers, although the pink one was comparatively weaker than the other two. All looked apprehensive, but determined.

Oh, this isn’t good. It’s Relay 314 all over again, Levin thought. His people and the humans had almost started a massive, full-scale war stemming from a misunderstanding. Only the timely intervention of the asari diplomats could stop the fighting. History doesn’t repeat, but it does rhyme.

Three of the pegasus guards were still kicking the top side of the shuttle. They hovered in the air, periodically kicking out with their rear hooves, sounding dull thumps on contact. 

Levin rolled his eyes. Evidently, these ones were persistent, although stupid. He glanced upwards. “Bugger off.”

The guards above the shuttle whirled around to face his voice, finding a smooth helmet with a tinted frontal faceplate. All three jerked backwards unconsciously, but recovered, drawing spears from their nearby holsters.

Levin had been drawing the rifle from his back the whole time. The muzzle of his rifle met the point of the guard’s spear. Both sides stared down the other.

“Bugger off,” Levin repeated, growling. He tapped the rifle’s muzzle against the spear for emphasis.

The three jumped off the shuttle’s roof as one, and flew around until they faced him on the ground, between Sev and himself. The spears stayed up. Well, at least that infernal noise has stopped.

He diverted attention back to the standoff developing between Sev and the ponies. Celestia and her two companions had moved to the forefront of the enemy line. Blue looked worried, but Pink even more so; her mouth was hanging open and tears were starting to leak out of the corners of her eyes.

A purple unicorn by Pink’s side had the same expression as well. Levin suspected that both of them were related to the hostage…

“Release your prisoner!” Celestia spat. Coming from the mouth of a herbivore, that was an odd sight indeed.

“Give me my equipment back,” Sev replied, eerily calm. If Levin had his eyes closed, Sev could have been speaking to a store clerk, and he wouldn’t know any different.

Celestia gritted her teeth. She was powerless at this point. Magic spells would come too close to Armor to be completely zero-risk, and with Cadance nearby, she didn’t want to make her niece suffer any more. The easiest solution would be to acquiesce to this alien’s demands – all he wanted was his equipment, which they were planning to return anyways – but this could set a precedent for future hostage takers…

Cadance whimpered, trying to hold back her tears and failing obviously. Luna nudged her sister. “I will retrieve the being’s possessions. This isn’t worth the risk anymore.” And with that, she leapt into the sky towards the castle.

When Blue left, Levin released a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. He knew the remaining biotics would be more than capable of dispatching the both of them, so he kept himself behind the cover of the shuttle’s doorjamb. Direct biotic attacks needed line of sight to work, he remembered – as long as he remained behind cover, he should be relatively safe.

The next five minutes reminded Sev of his time spent in mercenary work.

Contrary to popular belief, mercenaries were usually just glorified security guards; most of their time was spent in tense boredom, standing guard over…something. It didn’t really matter. Sometimes they’d be called to eliminate someone, but mostly those jobs went to state-sponsored assassins. In fact, this job was the most exciting one he’d been on in a while.

The pony soldiers remained stock still – Levin had to admire their discipline – whilst Celestia glared at Sev, her face an expression of fury.

“So, where’s Riana?” Sev asked, out of the blue. The ponies looked at him oddly.

“She’s in the ship,” Levin replied, shrugging. The weight of the assault rifle was an assurance. The tense atmosphere was getting to him as well.

“Got any guns on it?”

“No,” Levin snapped. “The hull was weaponless. And I spent most of the money on the engines.”

Sev grunted. He’d hoped to be able to call in a strike. Just in case, of course.

The ponies glanced at the two of them like they had gone mad. For all they knew, both of the aliens appeared to be conversing with themselves.

Celestia glowered. “You attacked my ponies, and you expect to escape that easily?”

Sev sighed. “Your guard attacked me first – wait, your ponies? You own them?”

Several of the guards snarled, but several others shifted a bit. Celestia reared her head back a bit. “I would never presume such a thing! I represent the nation as a whole.”

Sev let out a noncommittal rumble. He’d heard of such governments forming in turian and human civilization. Monarchies. People run by a ruler that placed himself into power via birthright. They’d always said something similar. The lack of such a governmental structure in the galaxy nowadays spoke volumes about its success. “So your guard’s wrongs are your wrongs, then. You should be the one apologizing.”

At that, the ponies all gasped – some of the soldiers advanced, only to be stopped by the cry of pain Armor emitted as Sev squeezed his neck.

Cadance blubbered and fell to the ground, sobbing. She’d only felt this powerless once before, and this situation brought back painful memories…

Twilight galloped over, forcing a smile on her face despite the tears in her own eyes. She nuzzled Cadance’s neck.

Levin caught his own breath as he saw the display of affection, and he let the Avenger hang a bit looser in his arms. Suddenly, violence didn’t seem as much of an acceptable means to an end as before. He shook his head. This was not the time to lose conviction, especially when the enemy would not.

Celestia closed her eyes. This was too much. “I will let you have your equipment, for the safe return of your hostage.”

Sev nodded. “Agreed.”

Blue returned, holding Sev’s Striker rifle in her mouth. She was gripping the gun around the top carry handle, and Levin winced as he saw beads of saliva drip off her lower jaw onto the metal.

She dropped the gun onto the ground carefully. “There. Now, release your prisoner.”

“Kick it over here,” Sev said evenly. If they wanted to trap him, they were doing a poor job of it. Any youngling could see through that ploy.

Blue complied. Pink hadn’t stopped wailing, and the noise was starting to annoy Sev, although he kept a lid on his temper.

The gun lay at his feet. Slowly, Sev kneeled and scooped up the gun. From the weight and the feel, it was the real thing. He let the officer fall onto the ground, gasping, though to his credit he tried to charge up his biotics. Sev booted him with a foot. “Don’t try it.”

His gun had been against his shoulder the whole time, muzzle facing the crowd of ponies. None of them approached. He backed off, and instantly Pink and Twilight moved forwards, along with Celestia. Sev hoped they’d focus on the officer rather than him. He hadn’t faced such a crowd of biotics before, and definitely not ones of such power.

His boots made a clanging noise as they hit metal, and he realized he was in the shuttle. Levin was right next to him, still pressed next to the open doorway. Upon seeing Sev, he immediately returned to the cockpit, leaving Sev to buckle himself into a nearby seat.

“Keep the side door open,” Sev said. Levin acknowledged.

As the shuttle’s mass effect core powered up with a gentle, deep thrum, and the shuttle’s thrusters roared, Sev could see the ponies converging on their fallen colleague. Only two did not – Celestia and her blue companion.

Both had their horns glowing with a biotic field.

Biotics gave several noticeable indicators when they intended to attack. The most obvious was glowing skin, caused by activation of the eezo nodules in their nervous system.

Sev acted on instinct. His rifle was still in his arms, still aiming at the crowd. He nudged the gun up and to the right a notch, until the crosshairs lined up with Celestia’s chest. There was no time to think about what would happen later – there may not be a later if he hesitated.

The rifle roared, expelling three rounds. Firing sideways from a sitting position meant that the recoil of the gun wasn’t as easily controlled, and two of the rounds whistled harmlessly past the right side of Celestia’s neck. The first round embedded itself into her chest, stunning her and dispelling the glow around her horn. She gasped, and Blue turned to look at Celestia – and the bullet exploded. There hadn’t even been any time for blood to drip out of the wound.

A geyser of fire erupted out of the wound, at the same time Celestia fell to the ground. She could feel every little piece of metal that the explosion had sunk deep into her body, and compounded with the searing heat, she was finding it very difficult to concentrate. She just wanted to sleep. Let this all be over. No more fighting.

She didn’t notice the swarm of ponies around her, trying to staunch the blood leaking out of the fist-sized hole the explosion had left behind.

Sev grinned savagely as his opponent dropped onto the grass. He’d taken out two birds with one stone, as the humans said, and with the injuries their ruler sustained, no one would have the time to block their escape.

Levin could still hear the gunshots even through the cockpit’s airtight door. He sighed. Every misunderstanding seemed to spiral down into a larger mistake, and so on. By now, they’d definitely antagonized the country they were supposed to be digging in. A country full of powerful biotics. By the end of it, he reasoned, they’d be lucky if they didn’t end up dead.

If they wanted to stay and continue to salvage, they'd have to try diplomacy, before their actions started the downward spiral of violence. Hell, it probably had already. The computers could sense the biotic flare from outside the shuttle, even through the drive core's interference.

There was going to be hell to pay.
> Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 9

--

Weeks of reassurance and patience by asari diplomats, as well as messages of good-will from leaders around the galaxy have finally paid off, as the cautious avian species [the raloi] agreed to send another delegation to the Citadel. – Top Story for 7/24, Citadel News Relay, 2186 CE

--

Riana rubbed her forehead with her fingertips, elbows on the table. The friction of skin against skin helped to calm her, and she’d never really needed to grow out of the habit. Levin sat opposite her, whilst Sev was looking into his carry case. All three of them were in the corvette, hovering approximately 2000 meters above the surface of the planet.

Levin looked sorry after telling her what had happened. Riana was content to let him stew in his own feelings of shame and anger, although a small part of her told herself that it wasn’t his fault. Everything that had happened till now had been reactive, a response to environmental threats. Right?

The easiest thing to do would just be to leave. No more trouble. Just go, and forget about this whole thing.

But another part of her wouldn’t let her do that. It was their fault that everything had led to this. Had they gone to another planet, none of this would have happened.

But you didn’t know. It’s not your fault.

She pushed that thought away. Guilt wouldn’t help now. Actions would.

Besides, the area was a mother lode of relics. The credits they could get would be enough to put them in the black. Even with the lowered interest rates, thanks to post-war reconstruction, the interest was high enough to factor into her mental equations.

Assuming you survive the experience. And, you can always try and avoid the ponies.

But could they? She’d rather have something known for certain, rather than rely on luck. Despite its tech, the ship’s scanner wouldn’t be able to penetrate tree cover, or search for heat signals thanks to interference – they’d be effectively blind down there.

She sighed. The other bases that were in the area weren’t exactly this well developed. Apparently, this ancient civilization liked to keep things centralized. Damn shame.

“I’ll go down and talk to them,” she concluded. “Asari were always better at diplomacy.”

Levin didn’t have the heart to roll his eyes, so he simply nodded. At that moment, Sev straightened up, holding a massive, heavily modified Claymore shotgun in his arms. He laughed; a big, booming laugh that seemed threatening yet childish at the same time.

“I see why there were issues,” Riana muttered glumly. “This'll be fun.”

-&-

They’d left the shuttle hanging in the sky on VI autopilot. The lack of nearby mountains gave the VI plenty of room to maneuver if something went wrong.

The three were in the shuttle, rocketing off towards the castle. The obviousness of such a move made it a sign of trust that the ponies were not going to shoot them down.

Everyone had brought along their own weapons, in case of emergency.

Sev and Riana sat in the cargo hold in silence. She’d told him not to speak, and he’d agreed; that had gone over surprisingly well, she thought. Then again, it was an easy promise to break.

The shuttle clunked as they came in for a landing. It wasn’t difficult – Sev had said there was a courtyard around the castle, which was obvious from such a high viewpoint. They’d landed in front of a large gate, on a roughly paved cobblestone road. 

Well, that was good. They hadn’t been shot down on sight.

Levin opened the shuttle door from inside the cockpit before maneuvering out of the tight space and into the comparatively spacious cargo hold.

The door hissed open, and the three found themselves facing a squadron of fifteen guards, with more pouring in from the castle itself.

The guards at the front jerked backwards as they lay eyes on the interior of the shuttle, for there were the corpses of 10 ponies within.

“We found them outside the entrance to our ship, dead,” Riana said after a moment of silence. All eyes swirled around to meet her helmet’s faceplate. “We return the bodies for you to take care of.”

No one spoke for a moment. Then –

“Make way!” a voice shouted from the back of the crowd. The ponies parted, to reveal the officer that Sev had held hostage just hours before. “You!”

Sev didn’t respond, as ordered. They’d all holstered their weapons, to prevent any sort of misunderstanding – but his hand was straying dangerously close to the handle of his shotgun.

“We wish to apologize for our behavior, and return these corpses found outside our ship,” Riana said carefully.

The officer nodded slowly. “Escort them to the throne room.”

The three got out of the shuttle; Riana first, then Levin, and finally Sev. The shuttle’s doors remained open, and the ponies began to drag their comrades’ bodies out into the sunlight.

The three were surrounded by a thicket of spears, although every pony gave Sev a wide berth. All in all, there must have been about 25 pony guards around the trio, and doubtless more in the castle itself. Sev kept a watchful eye over the unicorns, whilst the Levin and Riana looked nonchalant as they were led into the bowels of the castle.

The corridor towards the ‘throne room’ was wide and spacious; six ponies could walk side-by-side down the corridor, such was its width. Tapestries were draped upon the wall, alongside paintings of some pieces of land as well as portraits of some ponies. Stained glass windows sat were placed on the top half of the wall, letting multicolored beams of sunlight fall onto the opposite wall.

Riana took in as much of the artwork as she could in the limited time they spent. The paintings depicted landscapes, of which many seemed to be set in the countryside, near lakes and so forth. That didn’t tell her much, except that the society they’d landed in was still fairly basic. Of course, that assumed that the paintings were unbiased. The tapestries, on the other hand, were of two motifs; a red one with a symbol of the sun on it, and a black one with a symbol of the moon on it. The red tapestries were on the left, whilst the black ones were on the right. That probably pointed to a duo of powerful houses running the country, or a religious belief in two main gods. Lastly, the stained glass windows depicted a gangly, lean pony shape. In each window, two of such shapes were present, one blue-grey and the other white. These likely represented the leaders of the country or were the depiction of gods. Oh, the history I could garner from such a place!

Levin was also taken aback by the opulence of the corridor. He’d seen the slums down below, and the existence of such wealth pointed to either irresponsible governance or a massive government surplus. It was possible that such wealth existed through donations from rich families, although that tended to lead to corruption. The Turian Hierarchy frowned on lavish displays of wealth, believing that would lead to resentment and internal strife, fraying the sense of brotherhood throughout the society.

Then again, the Hierarchy said that there are no turian civilians. What’s right and wrong?

Who knows?

Who even cares?

Sev ignored the aesthetics of the corridor. They were unimportant, merely decorations meant to make the area look good. There was no use for such frills in krogan society; why waste resources on something ultimately useless whilst other clans were arming up? In any case, krogan eyes were more suited to spotting moving enemies than detail. Aesthetic merit would merely be lost on them. The guards in front and behind them were far more deserving of attention. At least they could actually do something.

The group and its massive escort reached a pair of giant doors that sparkled with a golden luster. On the doors were carvings that depicted ponies in various shapes, some bowing to a larger entity, some facing off against one another. Probably just a gold layering, reflected Riana. Gold is too dense to move properly, and too weak to be useful as a barrier. Seeing as this is a throne room…

The doors swung open slowly, revealing a large room lined by pillars, in which a red carpet lay from the door up to a pair of thrones. Currently, only one was occupied; a dark blue alicorn sat upon a black dais that was itself planted on a raised section of the floor. Stairs led down from the throne to the floor, and at the base of those stairs the officer stopped next to a purple unicorn.

The guards rearranged position to form a wide circle around the trio, giving the three the impression that they were standing in the middle of a forest clearing, surrounded by spiky trees.

The alicorn narrowed her eyes, mirroring the purple unicorn’s facial expression. “You’ve got some gall to be standing here. I should put you all in the dungeon.”

Riana groaned mentally. The possibility of getting out of the situation without violence seemed more and more remote. But alas, she had to try. The second Geth-Quarian war had apparently been born of misunderstanding and warmongering. And everyone knew the consequences that had wrought upon both ‘species’. She wasn’t going to go down in history as a bystander; not when she had the ability to act.

“We’re here to apologize,” she began, racking her brain and kneeling down in the process. Levin copied her, but Sev stayed standing. What was worse, his hand was slowly going for the grip of his rifle. She cursed silently. “We feel deeply sorry about what has happened, and we wish to amend it.”

She reached into a pocket on the outside of her armor. The guards tensed, expecting all manner of terrible devices to come out. When her hand went back out, the fingers were wrapped around a tube of orange medi-gel.

“This medi-gel will help to relieve the pain of the wound, as well as seal the area from microbes.” She hoped they understood what microbes were. “Spread it onto the wound itself.”

Fortunately, the alicorn appeared to understand. She pulled the tube out of Riana’s hands with her biotics, and promptly galloped away out of the room, presumably towards the wounded ruler. The three were left to stand awkwardly amongst a crowd of hostile ponies.

-&-

Luna inspected the tube as she travelled. The inside of the tube sloshed around like oil, viscous and heavy. It looked more like orange snail-slime than medicine, but if what the aliens said were true, then this would be a great help.

The aliens. She snarled, scaring off a few nearby maids. They’d sown enough chaos already; and when she’d given the large one his things back, she’d hoped that her sign of good faith would be appreciated. Apparently not.

Still, she found that she couldn’t blame them. She remembered her sister’s face – fury, frustration and sorrow present in each crease and wrinkle – as she prepared a spell to take their vessel down. She knew that face. After all, she had been on the receiving end.

The aliens had only wanted to survive. To escape. She understood why they did what they did. She would have had done the same, a thousand years ago, had she not been paralyzed by a moment of indecision. It was her own sister, after all.

Luna cursed herself, for her own weakness. That same weakness that had led to her exile. If she’d only have the strength to strike first…

Could she really blame them for acting to survive? After all, she’d done the same. Almost had done the same. Intent was the same, though. And intent made the difference between murder and ponyslaughter...

Well, whatever had happened before didn’t matter. That was all in the past. Even she couldn’t change the past, with all her power.

At least they’d attempted to make up for it. The large one hadn’t kneeled, a classic sign of disrespect. She would be mad had it happened a thousand years ago, but now she couldn’t be bothered to summon any hint of annoyance. Her own ‘loyal subjects’ did the same to her, anyways. They just thought she wouldn’t be able to hear it.

The one who’d spoken sounded genuinely sorry, and Luna had to wonder why she’d tagged along with the massive brute. Perhaps she was just playing along. The last one was a wild card; it had kept silent all through the encounter. That one would need watching.

She burst into the medical wing of the castle. All the doctors and nurses surrounded her sister, still unconscious. The doctors had pressed gauze to the bloody wound, whilst the nurses tended to her sister’s high temperature and checked her vitals. They weren’t good; she knew that much. The shards of shrapnel extracted from Celestia’s body lay in a tiny pile at the side, forgotten for the moment.

All the nurses looked up at the newly arrived Luna, who promptly ignored them. “Doctor; is this toxic?” she asked, holding up the tube of medi-gel.

One of the doctors, a junior one judging by his age, approached her. Normally they’d have bowed on sight, but these were special times. He took a nearby poison test kit and got to work, unscrewing the tube’s top and pouring a drop of its contents into retractable metal tray. The machine buzzed and whirred while the doctor tapped his hind hoof, waiting for the results. A minute later, he nodded. “It’s good, Princess.”

Luna needed no more encouragement. She levitated the tube, now open at one end, and barged her way to her sister’s side. The gauze had stemmed the flow of blood, but not stopped it. Carefully, she removed the gauze, eliciting a wince from her sister, and poured the goo into the wound.

The effect was instantaneous. Celestia sighed, seemingly contentedly, whilst the gel hardened over the wound. No blood escaped. Luna smiled. Things finally seemed to be looking up.

The nurses stayed by her sister’s side, as did a couple of senior doctors, but the rest of the doctors walked past her with a quick mutter of “Princess” and split off to help the other patients.

Luna thought about staying as well. Her sister needed the company. 
No, she didn’t. She coped for 1000 years without you.

She remembered the damage to the gate. It looked like a buffalo had charged directly at it, the metal warped and the gate mechanism broken. They’d had to reset the cogs. If that was happening now to the guards down there…

She started to trot a bit faster back towards the throne room. The guards were the best of the best, were they not? So why should she worry?

She picked up her pace into a gallop. The servants in her path leapt to the sides to avoid being trampled, and she absentmindedly resolved to apologize to them all later on. If they remembered the incident.

The throne room was up ahead, deathly quiet. Too quiet.

-&-

Riana gaped in amazement as the alicorn-creature used her biotics to levitate the tube medi-gel. The level of control over mass fields must have been immense! Those horns that glowed – they must have had nodules of eezo inside them. That meant they could control mass effect fields using their thoughts, not physical mnemonics like human biotics. Asari could also do something similar, thanks to their conscious control over their own nervous system – but this sort of delicate, precise control took literally centuries to master.

And the unicorns around her held their spears with similar control. Either they were older than they looked, or this ability of theirs was biological…

As the alicorn left, Levin and Riana returned to their standing posture. Their sudden increase in height caused the guards to back away slightly. Now I know how a krogan feels, Levin thought.

The officer and his purple friend approached the border of the barricade, expressions stormy. The officer had a bandage around the tip of his horn. Riana felt a chill, run down her back, and her hand strayed to her pistol. Aside from her, Levin was also reaching for his assault rifle, strapped on his back. Sev, meanwhile, pushed his way in between the two of them to stand directly in front of the pony pair. He looked to be unarmed, but Riana’s two centuries of life had taught her that looks could easily deceive.

The two ponies stopped when they stood abreast the spear-holders. All of the guards they passed gave them nods; an acknowledgement of rank.

Neither side said anything for 30 seconds. Then, quite suddenly, the officer growled, staring at Sev. “What are you playing at?”

From Sev’s right, Riana spoke up. “We are just here to make amends.”

The officer shot her a death-glare. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

She wasn’t fazed. “He’s under orders not to talk to anyone,” she said, gesturing to Sev.

For his part, the big krogan stayed silent.

“You harm our Princess and now you expect us to just forgive you?” the purple unicorn spoke. She must be Twilight.

“No. That’s why we brought the medicine. We hope to make reparations by healing your Princess. Please forgive us for our transgressions,” Riana replied.

Levin was impressed. Her skill in sweet-talking was almost as good as a politician’s. Then again, she’d lived over 5 times his current age.

“Come over here and talk to us directly. Don’t hide behind you companion,” the officer sneered.

Riana made to move to the front, but Sev held ups his arm to block her path. He shook his head. Her armor wasn’t as good as his for withstanding biotic attacks, and they both knew it.

Both sides lapsed into silence after that, broken by rapid hoof-steps and a blue shape that burst from one of the side doors. The blue alicorn trotted over to the ring of guards.

“I don’t know what that is, but it appears to have helped,” she spoke. “I guess I should thank you. Then again, if you hadn’t harmed her in the first place, this whole thing wouldn’t have happened.”

This alicorn wasn’t good at hiding her emotions. Sev could see that as clear as day. She seemed conflicted; happy on the one hand, probably because her country’s ruler was saved; but also angry at the fact that the ruler needed to be saved in the first place, thanks to the beings in front of her…

The alicorn sighed. “Why are you here?”

“We’re doing archaeological surveys…” Riana paused. She didn’t know the being’s name.

“It’s Princess Luna.”

“Very well. Princess Luna, we’re here to recover artifacts from the ruins of dead vessels of an ancient era. We only need to record and take a few relics, and then we can leave your star system.”

This seems to be going my way, Luna thought. She didn’t know of any ‘dead vessels’, although excavations had shown that there was a former civilization that existed before the time of ponies. And the faster the aliens were out of her mane, the better. “Fair enough…” she paused, encountering the same problem. The aliens hadn’t introduced themselves yet.

“Oh, my name is Riana,” the asari said. She clasped her hand’s onto Levin’s shoulders. “This is Levin.” Finally she gestured to the hulk. “And this is Sev.”

Luna nodded. “Very well. But I cannot let you three wander around my lands unguarded. You, Sev, have already caused enough damage.” She narrowed her eyes.

At this, Sev rolled his shoulders, but continued to stay silent.

“We’ll better get out of your hair,” Riana said cordially. “Thank you so much for your hospitality.”

Luna nodded slowly. “Captain Armor, Twilight Sparkle, you two shall accompany them. Choose the guards you trust to go along with you. Oh, and Twilight – come here for a moment.”

Twilight did as commanded, and the two ponies exchanged words in quiet whispers. Sev narrowed his eyes; a plan to backstab them, maybe? If so, why would they do so in front of the three? Could this show of trust all be a trick?

The weight of the guns on his back suddenly made their presence felt, and Sev smiled grimly. Betrayal was an old krogan tradition. He should know. He wouldn't be taken that easily.

Luna finished her exchange with Twilight, who galloped back to Armor. She looked back up at the three. “Wait for a moment at the front courtyard. Guards, escort them there!”

Sev was no stranger to codewords. ‘Front courtyard’ could mean anything, but a guard escort suggested that the three would resist if they knew. And that suggested the torture room or the dungeon.

They marched out of the throne room and down the corridor. As they neared the turn that would take them to the dungeons, Sev tensed and balled his hands into fists – but the group walked past, and he glanced back at the rear guard to see their reactions. Some looked puzzled as he turned his head slightly, but the others didn’t appear to notice, or hid their emotion well.

The sound of his steps changed from a hard clacking to a softer mulching sound as the flooring changed from marble to grass and soil. They were back where they started – the shuttle was past the gate, door still open, but the bodies inside were nowhere to be found. The trio was herded by the ponies – how ironic – to the side of the path, and the group stood in the middle of a grassy expanse.

Armor turned to the group. “Guard the aliens here. I’m going to the barracks to request a squad and a chariot.” He left without another word.

Levin spoke first, after a short pause. “Well, this is boring. Wake me up later.”

Twilight butted in. “After all that’s happened, I think we deserve some answers.”

Riana nodded. “Go on, ask away.”

“What did you do to Princess Celestia?” Twilight snarled. It was quite cute, a pony snarling. Still, no one told her that for fear of exacerbating the tenseness of the situation.

“He shot her,” Riana replied, pointing to Sev to emphasize the ‘he’.

“Shot her?”

Sev nodded. The motion brought Twilight’s eyes back around to face him.

“Why?” The question phrased more like a statement. As Twilight spoke, tears started to come to her eyes, but she shook her head. “Why?” she demanded forcefully.

Riana looked to Sev. He took the move as permission to let him speak. “You and your Princess attempted to stop our escape. I could not let that happen.” His voice sounded flat; bored.

At that, all the guards tensed – the circle didn’t shrink, but the spears were now being held more firmly, and each guard appeared to be ready to spring them at a moment’s notice.

Sev didn’t appear to be bothered by the change at all. He merely tapped the ends of his forearms with his fingers.

Twilight’s mouth was agape. This being, Sev, didn’t seem to possess any sense of remorse or pity at all. First, the dead manticore; and then, her beloved teacher. It was like talking to a psychopath. Maybe he was a psychopath. He certainly acted like one. She recovered quickly enough.

“You could’ve…talked, or tried to signal to us that you wanted to go!” Twilight yelled. But inside her head, her thoughts were racing about like leaves in a hurricane. She had seen the two Princesses attempt to stop Sev’s escape. Luna and her teacher had attempted to pull the vessel closer to them, planning to continue to question him. He had to be punished as well – hostage taking, assault and environmental destruction were not light crimes.

Sev laughed. The sound was like thunder; loud and rumbling. “You and your Princess used your biotics first. I saw your horn light up. You did not give us a chance to talk. I responded in kind.”

“Biotics?” Twilight said, confused. “What do you – you mean magic?”

The word didn’t have an exact translation in the krogan language, so Sev shrugged. “Maybe that is what you call it.”

Armor chose that exact point in time to gallop in, cutting their conversation short. Above them, a carriage hovered in the sky, pulled by two pegasi. On the underside, Riana could spot strips of blue leading from the carriage’s underbelly, all the way up the carriage shafts to the yoke area. Is that eezo?

Armor stopped just as the carriage swung around and came in for a landing. The carriage was fairly large, at least in pony standards. It was about a meter and a half high and wide, and twice as long. This one wasn’t flashy; it was grey rather than gold, and it was covered in dings and scrapes that spoke of its age. Armor called out for a few ponies to enter – ‘Blade’, ‘Metal’, ‘Shield’ and ‘Trace’ all came out of the ring and got into the carriage. They all looked identical, up to the green brushes on their heads.

Twilight trotted back to Armor, giving Sev the cold shoulder. Armor smiled as he saw his sister approach, but his gaze hardened as it travelled over the alien trio. “You heard the Princess. I can’t allow you to wander around unsupervised. You”–

Levin interrupted him mid-sentence. “I’ll set the ship down in the castle gardens, then. Where do you want it?”

Armor’s face looked like a tomato for a second; such was his anger at the perceived insubordination. But his sister’s hug calmed him down, and he nodded to a nearby pegasus guard, ordering him to keep watch.

The three ignored Armor and headed for the shuttle. By now, the sun was already kissing the horizon, coloring the sky a pinkish shade. The pegasus guard flapped into the air above the shuttle, intent on following it.

They docked with the corvette in record time. The ship’s VI was managing to keep the thing steady even through the odd mass anomalies plaguing this planet – quite a feat, considering that it wasn’t exactly legal.

The pegasus had been left outside the ship; he hadn’t dared enter the airlock, and no one cared whether or not he did.

The ship spun on its axis until it faced the direction of Canterlot’s castle, and slowly jetted off, using the maneuvering thrusters. The main fusion torch engine was powerful, and Levin didn’t want to overshoot and end up in another country. He passed extra energy into the eezo core to decrease the mass of the ship, helping relieve the thrusters of some of the stress.

Riana switched the scanner to a radar system, used for planet scanning. She found an empty spot just large enough inside the castle walls – apparently a park of some sort, judging by the vegetation around it. Thirty meters wide by fifty meters long, it was a tight fit – but not impossible.

“You know we could just jet off now,” Sev said amiably from near the airlock door. “They’d never be able to catch us. Prison here would suck.”

“This is a show of trust, Sev,” Riana replied from her place at the scanner console. “This is quite odd though, I’ll agree – usually, when you attack a country’s leader, you expect immediate retribution, not a nice talk and then the chance to run around.”

“Could be those guards they send with us. Twilight and that Armor one have high biotic levels; I could overpower them if I got the jump on ‘em, but otherwise…”

Levin grunted. “Hate to say it, but I agree with the krogan. Back-up plans are always good to have.”

Sev smiled, just as the corvette touched down on the dirt with a hard bump. The lights flickered on after the eezo core powered down, and Levin dialed down the main power plant until it was just a soft hum in the background.

Just  as well. Night had arrived.

-&-

They’d all chosen to sleep inside the ship; after all, sleeping on an actual mattress was much better than sleeping on what passed for padding inside armor. The 7 hour day cycle wasn’t difficult for Sev to adapt to. He was the first to wake. Sleeping on someone else’s property had always been a difficult task for him. The smells were all wrong and foreign. He’d been expecting to wake up with a knife in his neck or a bullet between the eyes, and that hadn’t done wonders for his sleep. Donning his armor, he caught Riana walking through the door separating the cargo bay and the living quarters, still rubbing her eyes.

“I heard clanking,” she said, and stopped instantly at the sight of the armored krogan. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Sev shook his head. “I’ll be outside.”

Riana nodded slowly. “Try not to piss any more of the locals off.”

Sev cackled, but she wasn’t able to tell whether he was serious or not. She turned back inside and headed straight for the kitchen area. That human coffee was good. She had her doubts when she’d first tried it; it was bitter and grainy, and she’d wondered why some of the humans swore by it, but now she’d grown a liking towards the strange drink. Shame Levin couldn’t try it, thanks to his dextrose based chemistry.

Sev stepped out of the ship, relieved at finally being able to properly stretch his arms. The ship was about 8 feet tall, designed for turian height – coincidentally just high enough for him – but the thin corridors and tiny rooms weren’t designed for beings of his bulk. He stretched his arms upwards, feeling the shoulder joints pop slightly, and reveled in the sound. The humans said he’d get arthritis of some sort, but he’d always ignored them. It probably only applied to them – their puny frames didn’t even have a secondary nervous system!

It was still night outside, but the computer systems in his armor helped to counter that. The repurposed landing area used to be a multipurpose clearing, he saw; the land was flat and uniform, and around the ship he could see the grass had been blown flat to the ground, leaving circular patterns around the thruster nozzles. The ship itself was a strangely beautiful thing, lit by the moonlight – a blunted triangle, shaped like an arrowhead with the point sliced off. The rear of the ship expanded into two engine nozzles positioned over the airlock door, and two triangular ‘wings’ that were composed of strips of metal hung at the back, giving the appearance of a frill. Those wings were apparently useless, purely for aesthetic purposes. Supposedly, they were supposed to be related to the turian head-comb.

Sev started to shadowbox. It was an old habit from his Tuchanka days, and he’d never really lost it. The constant exercise was supposed to keep him in tip-top shape – a necessity in his line of work. Press ups and crunches were good for show, but they only stressed a limited number of muscles. A martial art was much more useful and strenuous an exercise.

The moon had sunk below the western horizon by the time he’d finished, just as the sun crested the mountains to the east. One pegasus flapped down from the top of the ship, yawning. Assigned to keep watch, probably.

Surprisingly, the low hum of the armor's servos hadn't woken the guard up – rather, the sunlight on his face had, and he flew down to a shady spot under the alien vessel to recover. As his vision slowly returned, he saw a massive blob slowly form into a similarly massive shape…

The pegasus yelped and flew back towards the barracks, discomfort all but forgotten.

Sev chuckled. This job was turning out to be more fun than he’d thought.

He focused his attention on one of the castle balconies. There had been, and still was, a biotic atop it – judging from its estimated power level, it was one of the two Princesses. As the sun’s rays lit up the castle, Sev could see her coloration – dark blue. It was Luna.

She’d been watching him, most likely. Still, no matter. She didn’t disturb him, so he didn’t disturb her.  That unwritten rule had served him well for over six centuries, and he saw no reason as to change it.

Ah. Apparently the status quo was about to change.

Luna glided down from the tower. If he was a more poetic person, he’d say she did so gracefully – a perfect launch, flight and landing – but he wasn’t. How she did things weren’t important. The end result was.

The alicorn trotted over to him, keeping a fair distance away. “What compelled you to attack my sister?” she asked. There appeared to be no emotion in her voice; odd, considering her relationship to the victim. Maybe the sisters were enemies?

“She attempted to attack me. I retaliated,” Sev replied, whilst pulling the Claymore shotgun from the back of his waist. “And don’t attack me. I won’t hesitate to do the same to you.”

Luna narrowed her eyes at the perceived threat. “How exactly did you know?”

“Her biotics were up.”

“Her abilities were up?” Luna appeared confused; obviously the translator had faltered.

“Her horn was glowing,” Sev said. He kept the muzzle of the shotgun trained away at her, to lessen his apparent threat – but they both knew he could fire the weapon in a split second, and she didn't want to test her own magical strength against a weapon that she knew could kill her.

Oddly, Luna started to pace in a circle.

This was what humans did when they were thinking, Sev noted; asari tended to do so as well, but that habit was most prevalent amongst humanity. With the prevalence of Earthlike animals and creatures on this planet, maybe the humans and the ponies had the same progenitors. Some of the artifacts of gods on Thessia resembled Protheans, after all. Well, they resembled that Prothean that showed up on the Citadel alongside Commander Shepard. If the asari had prehistoric connections to other species, why couldn’t the humans?

Sev's guess was right. Luna was deep in thought. She knew her sister to be vengeful, particularly when the things and people she loved were in danger – but that meant that the alien had acted in self-defense. Of course, this had all stemmed from an altercation in the jungle; allegedly, a guard had been hurt. The only question was who struck first. Luna was well aware of the phrase ‘History is written by the victors’; the ‘facts’ about her banishment a thousand years prior didn’t exactly match her own memories. When confronted, her sister had said something about freedom of expression; Luna had stormed out of the room a moment later.

Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.

She’d have to find out herself. And that information would have to come from an unbiased source. Her sister and Twilight Sparkle would say that they were erecting a shield; the aliens would say that they were preparing an energy beam. Both were probably wrong.

But how could she find out the truth?

She’d been just out of her teen years when she was banished – spending one’s life in stasis, unaware of one’s surroundings even though one was fully aware of time passing – and she’d aged mentally into a mature adult in total isolation. That wasn’t conductive to a good mindset, according to the psychology books she’d skimmed on her return.

She sighed. There didn’t seem to be a way to know the real truth. Even someone apparently unbiased would subconsciously alter their wording to make one side seem worse. She knew that from the books about herself.

Sev was still pointing his gun at a spot close to her. Her behavior wasn’t like anyone else’s on this planet – she’d arrived alone, and as far as he could tell, she wasn’t very expressive. While the other ponies seem to make exaggerated facial gestures, almost caricatures of human expressions, she was somewhat more subdued. A tightening of the lips here, a slight narrowing of the eyes there. That pointed to a host of psychological issues that he didn’t really want to deal with.

She suddenly stopped to look at him. Maybe the alien would have a new perspective. “What would you do to get the truth?”

“What?” His reply was terse, snappy.

“I said, what” – 

“No, why are you asking that?”

“Just answer the question. Please.”

Sev rolled his eyes under his helmet. “Nothing. I wouldn’t do anything. There’s no point.”

Now that was new. Luna’s eyes widened. “Why do you think so?”

Sev turned his head around, such that he could keep as much of the area in his field of vision. This conversation was starting to seem like a trap. The weight of the shotgun in his hand helped to calm him, though. “Truth doesn’t matter. Beliefs do.”

“Explain.”

Sev sighed. “You might have the truth. But if no one believes it, the truth might as well not exist, for all the good it does. Yeah?”

Luna nodded. “That’s quite a dark view of the world.”

“Maybe.”

The airlock door split open again, revealing two more lean shapes. Both of them were around the shuttle; Riana was tapping away at her omni-tool, whilst Levin checked the craft for any damage. It was unlikely there would be any – the Kodiak shuttle was tough, and they hadn’t been flying into anti-aircraft fire – but it was always good to check.

Luna turned away, and as she did so her coat seemed to shimmer. Biotic barrier, Sev noted. No wonder she wasn’t as afraid. She bade goodbye to him and flapped back towards the castle.

Sev ambled back towards the shuttle. By now, both Levin and Riana had strapped themselves inside, and they greeted him with a nod as he entered the cramped interior.

“Engine compartment again,” Riana said. “Now that we’ve got the blessing of the local authority, we shouldn’t be interrupted.”

The ship had been parked beside the castle barracks, a grey stone building detached from the castle. The clearing they’d landed in probably served as a training ground, amongst many other purposes. As the shuttle hovered out of the ship, leaving a trail of disturbed soil as it did so, they met a chariot. This was the same one they’d seen in the frontal courtyard the day before.

Captain Armor and Twilight Sparkle were present on board, but alongside them were two unicorns and two regular ponies – the four the Captain had chosen to accompany them. They didn’t seem unduly pleased about the situation, but no one on board the shuttle really cared.

Levin powered down and opened the side door. Following the plan, Riana was the one to speak. “Follow our craft.”

“That’s what we were going to do,” Twilight said.

“Good,” Riana replied, and closed the door. “I was afraid I’d have to handhold them.”

Sev chuckled, and Levin took the door closing as the sign to gun the engines.

> Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 10

--

If you’d shared this knowledge with the rest of the galaxy, we wouldn’t be in this mess! – Commander Shepard, 2186 CE

--

Shuttle rides were boring, Sev concluded. They were really just glorified taxis. The only difference was the addition of some armor and the removal of any comforts onboard. He switched on the onboard music player.

As the engine’s hum balanced out into steady tone, Riana reached over and tapped Sev on the shoulder. He didn’t feel it through his armor. But he did see her move. “What?” he growled.

Riana flinched slightly, but regained her composure quickly. She tapped over a message on his omni-tool. It read, ‘What do you think about Levin?’

Sev knew three things instantly. She’d elected to use a message system, which meant that she didn’t want Levin to know of their upcoming exchange. The message was on a private encrypted channel – again, to protect against eavesdropping. Last, there was something very wrong here. Riana and Levin had seemed like good friends earlier – maybe they were – but her asking him told of a hidden secret. Probably Levin’s secret.

Sev replied on the message channel. ‘Idk what you mean.’

‘In the jungle. His shout. Remember?’

Sev thought back to that. He’d forgotten about it thanks to his escape, the standoff and the ensuing diplomatic fiasco that had come up. But now, surrounded by the comforting hum of the shuttle’s engines, he could recall the incident near-perfectly.

Levin had shouted at some civilians, or plainclothes guards. That shout didn’t make any sense – it was just a loud “No!”

Sev typed out a reply. ‘You know him better.’

‘Y. But shout was random. Hoped you’d seen it before.’

Sev had seen it before, but not on any turian he’d ever known. Apparently, it was a flashback thing; his mind had filled in a memory from before. Salarians, humans and asari tended to have those, thanks to the higher prevalence of photographic memory among their races. But what memory Levin had, Sev couldn’t tell.

He typed ‘flashback’.

Riana noted the connections. Civilians, a shout declaring denial, and flashbacks. She also recalled the incident at university. There was some big secret he’d been hiding, and now she knew a bit more about it. He’d sounded ashamed back then – or maybe she was just imprinting that attribute on her memory? Maybe all those incidents were linked. Then again, maybe not.

‘Thanks. You think PTSD?’ she typed out.

Most krogan did not ever suffer from Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. They weren’t wired that way. But turians…‘Possible. Ask about military history?’ he tapped out. In hindsight, this looked ridiculous – two people communicating with technology when they could just talk to one another – but those onlookers did not understand the gravity of their messages.

Riana felt her stomach start to climb up to her head, and with that she knew the shuttle had begun to descend. They were to do an air-drop – jumping out of the shuttle in mid-air onto the ground – and she started to wring her hands. The anticipation was killing her. People always said that the wait was the most difficult thing about challenges, but she was beginning to doubt whether those people had ever thrown themselves out of a shifting platform some variable distance onto dirt. If Levin didn’t hold the shuttle steady while the 1-ton Sev jumped, it could slide sideways into a tree. Now that could mean the end of their little expedition.

The shuttle’s doors slid open, exposing the cliff of a forested area. In the distance, the passengers could spot the ruins of some building jutting out of the forest canopy.  Crunch time.

Sev motioned for Riana to jump first. She was lighter than him by far, and the shuttle wouldn’t shift as much on her go. Riana walked to the other side of the shuttle and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. This was it.

She took a running jump and shot out of the shuttle, landing some three feet down, and well clear of the edge of the cliff. Well. They were right. The waiting was the hardest part.

Sev looked down. The shuttle was hovering about three feet of the ground, and there was a two foot distance between the shuttle and the cliff edge. He’d have to jump almost a meter to avoid the soil around the edge of the cliff. It seemed unstable.

Sev stepped back, put a foot on the edge of the shuttle floor, and launched himself out of the shuttle.

The distance seemed to fly past – he’d landed safely, but the soil near the cliff edge disagreed with him and crumbled slightly. That wasn’t a good sign.

Levin jetted off towards the ruins. According to his coms, he was going to find an open spot around the area. Riana had the flamethrower just in case he couldn’t find one.

They heard the whoosh of flapping wings behind them, and the pony carriage slid to a halt in the same spot where the shuttle had been just a few moments prior. Sev left the talking to Riana – he gripped the shotgun in his hands as he examined the surrounding area. There seemed to be no animals nearby, but it never hurt to be sure.

The ponies disembarked from a side door in the carriage, and the carriage left; presumably to follow Levin. Well, they were going to be circling for quite some time.

Riana waved to the ponies. Only one of them waved back – a regular pony at the back. Sev was already ahead, crushing the foliage underfoot as he stomped further into the deep forest.

The ponies didn’t like this forest, Riana observed; they had pulled out weapons, such as spears and swords, and had formed a defensive circle around the purple unicorn – Twilight. She unfolded her own pistol in response. The flamethrower was likely to cause more collateral damage than necessary, and flame was notoriously slow at killing a creature. That was why it was so feared.

Sev spoke suddenly, his voice booming out of the suit speakers. “Heat sig. Ten o’clock.”

Riana was pointing her gun in that direction in an instant. Her suit wasn’t as good as Sev’s; it was a basic light-spec hard-suit manufactured by Elkoss Combine, and as such it didn’t have the extensive upgrades Sev’s own, probably custom built hard-suit did.

“Are your men up there,” Sev asked conversationally. His aim didn’t waver.

Armor shook his head.

The Claymore boomed once, and all the foliage near it bent backwards with the force of the blast.  The bushes in a 20 degree wide arc in front of the shotgun muzzle reared back, as if they wanted to avoid the shockwave. They didn't get up. The ponies all jumped at the sound. Some of them shook their heads, clearly hearing a ringing sound in them; others shook their weapons at the forest.

Sev laughed, and everyone turned to look at him. He pumped the shotgun once, ejecting a red hot thermal clip, which he replaced in a compartment on his armor. “They’re dead. Why so worried?” With that, he continued to trek deeper into the forest.

“He’s insane,” Twilight murmured, as they followed him.

They walked in silence after that.

Riana shifted. It was awkward; walking with six pairs of eyes glaring at her back, yet no one said a word. It reminded her of those bars on Illium, where enemies would trade glares rather than bullets. That was the one good thing about Illium – its omnipresent security. She felt like a prisoner. She was a ‘guest’ in theory, but the constant guard presence really spoke of the mistrust between species. Granted, that mistrust was well-placed.

They reached the ruins. The shuttle and the carriage were waiting for them, right outside the ruined castle’s entrance. Riana had to admire the handiwork that had gone into the creation of the former castle. They architecture was human-like; gothic, with towering spires and a looming front. Parts of the ceiling had fallen onto the ground, whereas –

“Alright, why are we here? This is a historic building,” Twilight Sparkle said. She didn’t seem very happy.

“Omni-tool’s picking up high levels of eezo in the soil here. This is it,” Levin said, leaning against the shuttle. “This is the ship.”

Sev remembered his orders not to speak, so he didn’t.

Riana turned to the main group of ponies. “Do any of you know the history behind this place? How it was built, what it was built on?”

Twilight answered instinctively. “This was where we discovered the Elements of Harmony and defeated Nightmare Moon! It was built and occupied by the two Princesses, giving it the name ‘Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters’.”

Sev snorted at that last part, ignoring the glares that the ponies and Riana shot him. Levin was busy scouting out the castle, so he didn’t hear what was so funny.

Riana restrained herself from face-palming. “Thanks for the information. Do you know if…if there are any cave systems underneath the castle?”

Twilight shrugged. Her face was still a bit red, and Riana resolved to try and cheer her up. She’d gone through this before, back at university.

Levin returned. “I found an entrance that leads under the castle,” he said, cradling his Avenger. “Let’s go.”

Sev grunted and followed him. The rest of the ponies and Riana went along as well. Even the pegasus guards unhitched themselves from the carriage to follow the group.

They came across a rectangular entrance, 6 feet tall and 3 feet wide. Sev huffed. “I can’t fit in there.”

He was right. The door was shorter than him by 2 feet, and he couldn’t exactly crouch, since he was barely 3 feet wide shoulder to shoulder. Crawling would only slow the whole team down…

“I’ll stay up here,” Sev volunteered. “Guard the entrance. As for the ponies – well, that’s your call.”

Riana nodded. “Captain Armor, is it? Pick some of your men to enter with us, and some to stay at the entrance if you please.”

“It’s ponies,” Armor growled, “And Trace, Metal, stay with the brute. Everypony else with me.”

The two unicorns saluted; an old style human salute. Yet again, there was a parallel with humanity. Maybe the progenitor theory wasn’t as far-fetched as Sev had thought. It wasn't the first time, after all - the Protheans had meddled with the asari people as they were developing...

Armor, Twilight, Levin, Riana, the pegasi and the regular ponies descended into the bowels of the castle.

Sev watched them go. It felt wrong to abandon them here. His job was to keep them safe – yet they were outnumbered, with only one known entrance out of the whole system. Granted, Riana did have a flamethrower, and both of them were wearing armor…

One of his eyes still had the two unicorns in its sight, and neither of them appeared to be doing anything threatening. Their horns weren’t glowing, for a start. With a sigh, Sev sat to the side of the entrance, pointing his shotgun the directly in front of him. The unicorns were on his right side, and they appeared nonplussed. He was going to be here quite a while, so he prepared his music player.

He wasn’t an idiot. The two unicorns nearby could have been instructed to attack him in a minute or an hour. He kept the volume of the music low, to better hear his surroundings. But right now, there was nothing to hear. Only the sounds of forest life surrounded him.

This was going to be a long wait.

-&-

Levin stooped as he walked down the stone corridor, feet clicking. The Avenger was pointed directly in front, and he and Riana took point. It was supposed to be another sign of trust, according to her. According to military tactics, it was a stupid tactical maneuver – they’d be pinned down by enemies from the front and back if things went sideways – but the weight of the gun in his arms helped to reassure him that everything was going to be all right.

The corridor bottomed out into a large room, apparently used as a hybrid holding-cell and storage area. Cells lined one wall, whilst on the opposite wall was devoid of any features. The place was littered with the skeletons of animals, and in the corner sat a pile of leaves and branches. Remains of food and bedding. Probably a sleeping area for wildlife.

Levin examined the blank wall. The stone was set comparatively unevenly, and the mortar was thicker around the corners of the wall. He nodded. This was their way in.

“Shockwave should do it,” he said.

Riana nodded, and then prepared herself.

Biotic abilities arose from electrical nerve impulses travelling through eezo nodules embedded in the flesh. The ‘shockwave’ technique was comparatively simple – she pushed outwards towards the wall with both arms, firing the nerves necessary – and everyone else saw the flash of blue leap from her skin towards the wall.

It also had next to no effect. The mortar was old and crumbling, but still held strong. Riana sighed, spent. She’d eaten on the ship, but biotics took a massive toll on her energy levels, and she fancied having a nice big steak.

Whilst Riana sat herself down on the floor, Twilight spoke up. “Watch this.”

Her horn started to glow as her face scrunched up in concentration.

A pack of purple started to form in the air – it seemed like a throw projectile, only larger – and it was getting bigger by the second.

The pack suddenly compressed together, into a lethal-looking cone, and shot into the wall.

On impact, the cone burst into a spectacular splash of purple light. What was even more spectacular was the fact that the wall behind it had vanished. In its place was a black hole, which the two of them quickly shone flashlights into, revealing a pile of ancient bricks on top of some metallic material that they knew to be even older, even though it shone brilliantly in the light.

The two unicorns that were with them managed to procure a light with their horns – Bioluminescence? Riana wondered – that weren’t as bright as the omni-tool’s torches, but were omni-directional.

Levin took the first step into the darkness. The walls were a greyish bronze color, spotted with a brownish material that crumbled into dust under the slightest waft of air. His flashlight beam picked up a raised, angular platform at the end of the room, and he walked over to it, boots clicking on the flooring as he did.

The ponies and Riana followed him, spreading out to see the entirety of the room. It appeared to be a work area – the place lacked any personal effects, but the flooring was littered with some sort of synthetic material that was grooved, and sparkled whenever stray beams of light hit it.

Twilight Sparkle’s happy gasps of excitement were drowned out when Levin spoke over the coms. “Riana, look at this.”

The asari walked over to see Levin holding a rectangular piece of clear plastic in his talon. On closer inspection, she could see the small lines engraved into it around the edges, and on one of the shorter edges a black shape had been embedded inside the plastic.

“Looks like electronics,” she said after a moment. “Take it.”

Levin folded a box into shape, and left it on the floor. He’d leave it here, for easier extraction – it was difficult climbing ladders or ropes whilst balancing a box. They would take all that was interesting and put them into their pockets, and then deposit their loot into the box.

They heard the clip-clop of hooves and turned around to see Twilight come up behind them. She seemed happy, judging by the massive smile on her face. “I can’t believe I haven’t ever heard of this place before! How did you know about it?”

Levin raised an eye-plate under his helmet. That was quick of her to warm up to them. They were barely on speaking terms just an hour ago. Maybe it was the local culture.

Riana smiled. This was their best ticket into getting the trust of the natives. After that, they wouldn’t be disturbed. Hopefully. “I read up on it. Many of the galaxy’s civilizations, including yours, I suspect, are built on top of the ruins of older ones. Records recovered through archaeology help us discover more about their lives, and their technologies. Through those records, we discovered this place.”

Twilight grinned in excitement, and Riana felt her heart twist a bit at the sight. She was so innocent, so sure that they were to further the advancement of galactic society, and not line their own pockets. Still, some of the buyers must have run private museums, right?

“There are more civilizations in space? Wow, please please please tell me about them!” Twilight yelped, jumping up and down on the spot.

Levin chuckled, a chirping sound that somewhat sounded like a bird’s call. Twilight looked at him in surprise, but Riana had already gotten used to it. “He’s just amused. Sure, I’ll teach you more about the galaxy. But, you have to teach me about your world.”

Armor and his ponies had also heard the sound, and were glancing at Levin with odd looks – though they weren’t hostile, but guarded, like they knew something more.

Levin ignored them, and walked up to the raised area. There was a hole on the floor in the shape of an octagon, with two opposite edges longer than the others. A straight rod of metal was bonded to the ceiling above the hole. The rod continued through it, into the depths of the ship. The metal rod was odd – a straight cut ran through the middle, so it appeared to be split in two – and the inside of the cut widened into the shape of a T.

Aiming his flashlight down, Levin could see the outline of a shape, which the rod appeared to punch right through. It fit the hole on the floor perfectly, though.

A lift.

Now they only needed a method of traversing the ship. Travelling via the empty lift shaft would be simple, but tiring. There was a ladder on the back wall of the lift shaft, which meant that he’d be restricted to carrying up whatever he could hold in one arm. Judging from the area where the metal met the stonework of the castle, the top deck had probably been sheared off on collision, somehow, and the lower decks would probably be partially crushed as well. That also meant that any eezo locked in secure containers would now be spilling around unhindered on the floor; easy pickings.

Looking downwards, he saw that the area around the lift on the second deck seemed clear. He nodded, and then clambered down the ladder and onto the second deck. Riana followed whilst Twilight did some sort of teleport towards the edge of the lift shaft. She didn’t even leave a spark of blue light in her trail. It was like she had just seemed to phase into existence by their side. Just like those Furies.

“How did you do that?” Riana blinked. 

Twilight giggled bashfully. “It’s a teleportation spell. I had to practice quite a lot.”

“A spell? Like magic?”

Armor appeared by their side in a flash of light and nodded. “You seem surprised. You also have magic in you.”

Riana scratched the back of her head. “I suppose so. In my society, we call magic ‘biotics’.” These ponies had called biotics ‘magic’, which suggested they didn’t know the root cause of it, but they did know the applications of the mass effect.

“How do you cast a spell?” she asked, walking towards Levin, who’d by now picked up a capsule of glowing blue out of a half-crushed safe. “Thinking about it?”

Twilight followed, speaking whilst trotting to keep up with the woman’s long legs. “Spells aren’t like thinking, ‘I want to do levitate this’ and have an object levitate. It’s more a way of thinking than a thought. Like a muscle, that had many uses. It’s difficult to describe…”

Riana nodded. The experience was similar to firing neurons, then. “Can all ponies cast spells?”

Twilight shook her head. “Only unicorns. Pegasi have innate magic that lets them manipulate the weather. Earth ponies can speed up the rate of crop growth with their innate magic. Dragons have magic as well, but theirs is less understood.”

One point in that conversation stuck out to Riana. “You said pegasi can influence the weather? In what way?”

“They can shape clouds, make rainbows, redistribute rain, that sort of thing. It takes a lot of energy though.”

Riana nodded in understanding. The ‘inner magic’ described by Twilight probably meant unconscious generation of mass effect fields, which meant eezo nodules embedded in commonly used muscles. The wing muscles, perhaps? That would explain their ability of flight with seemingly small wings.

As for the regular, or Earth, pony, that ability to increase crop production meant that the crops reacted well to mass effect fields. For what reason, she didn’t know; she was not a biologist.

Levin had finished ransacking the busted crate, and several more, coming up with about 3 liters of eezo. He’d distributed the lot in small canisters attached to a bandolier slung around his shoulders. Twilight gaped as he spun the bandolier around and around in a vertical circle, before flinging the whole thing up to hole to the top floor.

“You might damage the – she started.

“That’s a chemical, Twilight,” Riana interjected. “It’s inert, too.” She waited for the unicorn to say something; but the next words were not what she expected.

“That’s horn matter.”

Riana blinked, surprised. The unicorns were able to do magic, and she’d suspected that they had nodules around the body – but judging by Twilight’s words, the horn was the main source of eezo for their biotics.

Twilight cantered over to the opened boxes, peering inside them. “What kind of sick pony grinds up unicorn horns?”

Riana moved to calm her newfound friend down. “I would bet this isn’t from a unicorn’s horn, but mined from a neutron star. Element zero is a material with many uses, but it’s most well known as the material that allows us to travel at faster-than-light speeds.”

Twilight’s face was still etched with disgust, but she trotted back towards Riana, and the two moved to a lower deck. “Faster-than-light? That’s impossible!”

Riana shrugged. “Not for us. It works by passing current through element zero to reduce the mass of an object, such that the object can go at FTL speed. The exact details I’m not aware of, however. Sorry.”

Twilight’s ears drooped, and Riana sighed. “I’ll let you play with my omni-tool. How’s that?”

-&-

Sev rolled his shoulders. The tense boredom had set in an hour ago, and he checked the radiator system on the Claymore for the fifth time. It was fine, as always.

The two unicorn soldiers next to him twitched at the sudden motion. It had been funny the first few times, but after the tenth, Sev had gotten used to it and ignored them.

He set the Claymore down on the ground with a dull clang. The guarding jobs were the most tedious ones. They were also the easiest, but easy didn’t give you an adrenaline rush.

A low growl reverberated off the forest, beyond the entrance where the shuttles were parked. From the sound of it, it was not the ‘manticore’ from before. The pitch was too high. It almost sounded like a dog’s growl.

A creature poked its head around the corner of the entrance. He’d guessed right. It looked superficially like a dog or varren, but there was some sort of camouflage that made it seem that it was constructed from tree branches.

The creature disappeared, and the two unicorn guards next to Sev retreated down the entrance, spears pointed upwards. Cowards. At least they had a sense of tactics – that would be the only thing that could save their sorry hides.

Sev picked up his Claymore again, changing the cooling system into using thermal clips. The clip he’d used in the forest had cooled down, and he slotted it back into the body of the weapon.

Four of the creatures from before appeared around the entrance, and stood facing him. Now that he had a closer look, their camouflage was actually quite realistic. Even their legs and joints appeared to be made from components of vegetation. He doubted that ‘natural armor’ of bark around their bodies could hold up to a shotgun blast, though.

None of them stalked closer – they’d all kept a 3 meter radius around him. Predator sense, then. To know when you become the prey of a superior being, and get the hell out when you can.

Sev was a bit disappointed that they hadn’t attempted to attack him. He could use some fun. Still, they could be sentient, and he didn’t want to antagonize another nation.

He could hear the breaths of the guards in the entranceway. They were rapid and erratic – the classic sign of fear for mammalians. So, these things were enemies of the ponies, then. Maybe he could play them off one another…

No, the boss wouldn’t like that. No matter how amusing it would be to watch.

He pumped the shotgun. That feature wasn’t really a necessity, he remembered; it was merely kept as a tool for intimidation. The metallic clacking had the desired effect, though. Every creature went back a step – including the unicorn guards.

They very well should. The haze of battle could disguise friend as foe.

The dog-like things fanned out, standing in a semicircle in front of him. He was still sitting down next to the entrance door, and as he stood up, preparing for a fight, his shadow fell upon one of the fake-dogs.

That dog raised its hackles, or what passed for them – the leaves and such behind its head fluffed up. It was obvious they felt cornered – why did they not run?

 Maybe the animals here are just stupid.

Two dogs, each facing the other, jumped at Sev, who was in the middle. He flung out his left arm, catching one of the dogs in the ribcage, and the dog hurtled backwards; with the other, he swung the shotgun into the creature like a club, and sent it rolling into the entranceway.

The guards started to yell, but their cries were replaced by battle-song pounding away in his ears. The two dogs in front had jumped as well, seeing an opening for his chest; he slammed his head forwards to smash the thing, which fell; but the other one landed on the his left side and he stumbled backwards with the blow. The creature was heavy; only about the mass of a human, he guessed, but that weight was still substantial. It scrabbled for purchase on the smooth armor plating, and attempted to bite into his upper left arm. Luckily, that area was protected by a band of armor, and he quickly hooked his left arm around to grab the dog’s neck.

Sev flung the dog onto the ground, and examined the other combatants. The yelling had stopped from the entranceway, which meant that either the guards or the dog-thing was dead. The one he’d head-butted was picking itself up, flakes of what seemed like tree-bark dropping off its cracked face as it did so; and the one on the far left launched itself at him once more.

Sev didn’t attempt to whack it aside this time. Instead, he hooked two meaty fingers into some orifice of the dog-thing and swung it into the ground. A classic throw. It landed on top of its friend, and both dog things slumped together in a heap.

They were just a foot away from his feet. He grinned, and slammed a foot down into the torso of the top one. That would crush both of them.

The thing crumbled, its chest cavity turned into ground dust by the force of the blow. It stopped moving, instantly. Sev guessed that he’d snapped whatever passed for a spine in those things.

The dog on the bottom wasn’t faring much better. It wheezed, and a cloudy white liquid dripped out from its mouth. Sev stomped him into oblivion.

The last one had just gotten up, and found itself facing the nasty end of a Claymore shotgun. With a twitch of his finger, the krogan mulched the last creature, covering the opposite wall in fluids.

He turned to inspect the entranceway. The last dog-thing was still attacking the two guards, who’d set up a barrier. They were attempting to open it for a moment to lash out with their spears, but the dog had faster reactions, and their attempts were foiled.

Sev watched. He’d singlehandedly taken out three of those things; and those two biotics couldn’t take out one?

“Help,” one of them managed to growl out.

Sev chuckled. If they couldn’t handle it, then they would die. Simple as that. They weren’t strong enough to survive their own world.

But would that be the best choice of action? His employers would want him to make the salvage operations easier. For that, they needed to be on the good side of the natives, to prevent any delays or attacks.

He ejected the clip of the shotgun, letting the red-hot tube clatter to the ground, trailing steam behind it. Perfect. He picked the clip back up, and, holding it in one hand, ambled over to the back of the dog. It noticed him, of course, but by then it was too late. He shoved the clip into the creature, with so much force that the dog’s plating at the point of impact cracked; and the dog howled, twisting to reach the burning clip inside of it.

Trace vomited as he saw flames start to lick across the timber wolf’s body whilst it thrashed around in agony. He thought he’d seen the worst with the manticore, but apparently its killer was determined to prove his assumption wrong. The brute held the wolf down and retrieved an object, still glowing dully with heat, and replaced it in a pocket. That must have what had started the fire in the first place. Trace shuddered as he imagined how it would feel, having that shoved into the flesh on his back. The spread of heat across his skin, the flames licking at his exposed tissue...

Metal hurled as well, and as he lost concentration, the barrier evaporated, letting the scent of smoke and burning flesh waft down to the two ponies.  That was the last straw – their primal instincts overtook them, and they bolted down to the relative safety of the dark corridor below them.

Sev laughed. Weaklings.

> Chapter 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 11

--

I remember your kind when you were still minnows in the ocean. – “Javik”, 2186 CE

--

Levin fastened the box to his back. It was full now, filled with whatever they’d managed to scavenge from the ruins of the ship; eezo, odd devices, and photonic parts being the most prevalent. Luckily, it didn’t weigh a lot, thanks to the mass effect fields generated.

He had the Avenger up and at the ready. Sev should have done his job and kept any wildlife away from them, but if he’d been overpowered – well, they would be dead.

The group stepped out of the wall breach back into the castle dungeon area. The place was clear – ah. Two unicorns stood, shaking, by the sides of the door leading out. Armor sniffed the air next to him and made a face; disgust.

The guards seemed physically unharmed, but Levin knew that the deepest wounds were usually hidden. The shaking couldn’t be because of the cold – the ambient air temperature was around 20 degrees Celsius, according to his omni-tool – so that meant fear or excitement. Suddenly, he was grateful for the gun pressed against his shoulder.

“What’s going on,” Armor barked, clearly having lost all sense of decorum. At least he knew when it was an emergency.

One of the guards, the larger one, replied, “Timber wolf. Attacked. Burning, dead,” and then he trailed into silence, before gagging.

Well, that was new.

Levin maneuvered himself to the side of the doorway and threw a glance around the corner. He heard Sev’s chuckle over the coms, and felt both relieved and annoyed at the same time. “What now, Sev?”

“Come up here and see for yourself,” Sev replied. “Huh. Looks like they are part plant.”

Levin motioned with his free talon, and Armor followed him, bringing the rest of the ponies along. The unicorns took up the rear of the group. Slinking as quietly as possible up the long corridor, he found Sev rooting around in a pile of blackened branches.

“What the hell?” he said.

Sev stood back up, holding a thermal clip in one hand. He tapped it against the wall, dislodging flakes of carbon, and replaced it in his ammo compartment. “Wildlife.”

“Looks like branches to me,” Levin replied, raising a brow-plate.

Sev made a grunting sound, and turned away, towards the shuttle. “Done here?”

Levin came out of the entranceway, and saw two wolf-like creatures – ‘timber wolves’ – seemingly crushed. There was a suspiciously large splash of greenish goo on the far wall, and leading up to it was a slowly widening cone of the same fluid. 

He looked down. The pile of burnt sticks was actually another of those timber wolves, but so charred that he was surprised it wouldn’t crumble when he nudged it.

It was noon now. They’d spent two hours rummaging around in the ship, he estimated. Good time. The corvette’s cargo bay was about one fifth full by now, so they could probably only visit another large wreck before needing to find a fence to offload their loot.

Stepping past the corpses, he went for the shuttle to unload the loot. Sev was still standing there, absently stabbing a wolf corpse with the bayonet attached to his Claymore whilst he kept an eye on Riana.  The asari was still chatting with Twilight at the back of the group, when the unicorn scrunched upper her nose. “What is that smell?”

Twilight gasped as her eyes fell upon the two timber wolf corpses, the splatter of wood-wolf blood on the wall and the burnt pile on the floor in front of her. She became the third pony to throw up today, Sev reflected.

As Twilight recovered, Armor looked at the two unicorn guards. “What happened here?”

“Four timber wolves attacked. He took them out,” Trace said, gesturing to the brute with his head. Name was ‘Sev’, was it not? “One of them got thrown down the entrance where we held a chokepoint. Thing was vicious though. Didn’t let up. He…he set it on fire. Watched it burn to death.” Trace shuddered as he finished his account.

Armor felt a chill run down his spine at the description of the unlucky timber wolf’s last moments, and he suppressed a shiver of his own. This brute was even more sadistic than he’d thought. The other two, however, seemed like decent people; his sister had taken a liking to one, and the other was polite, if distant. Why were they with this bastard?

Said bastard was currently slicing up one of the timber wolf corpses with a blade as long as Armor’s leg. He handled the dissection with the skill of a surgeon; slicing open organs, muscle and bone in search of… something. Apparently he didn’t find it, as he stood back up, and replaced the blade into a scabbard on his forearm. 

“Done?” Armor growled at the brute.

Sev didn’t bother replying, and turned away towards the shuttle, shotgun held loosely at his side. Levin waved over in his direction – they were ready to go.

Riana bade her goodbyes to Twilight. The ponies all gave her a nod – professional, but still an acknowledgement – as she walked passed them, and she came up to the two men.

“I’m going back on their… vehicle,” she said sweetly.

“What?” both men snapped, simultaneously.

There was a short pause, before Sev broke it with a sigh. “It’s one of those hearts and minds things, isn’t it?” He didn’t sound opposed to the idea, strangely enough, just… resigned.

“You’re not serious,” Levin said, ignoring Sev’s comment. “That thing doesn’t even have a fucking seatbelt. You fall, we probably won’t be able to catch you.”

Riana nodded. “I know. I trust them to keep me safe, like I trusted you” – she pointed at Sev – “to do so at the palace, and to do so until the expedition ends. Levin, I understand the risks. But the gain would be far more valuable.”

“Just my opinion, but this ‘hearts and minds’ is useless,” Sev said, looking over the two towards the ponies, all of whom were staring at the three. “Whoever has the bigger gun wins, at the end of the day. Still, it’s your life, your decision. The bank account is jointly owned anyways.”

Just like that, the friendly atmosphere shattered, and the two unconsciously took a step away from Sev.

Levin nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Keep yourself safe. I’ll keep the side door open, so Sev can keep an eye out.”

“Thanks, dad,” Riana muttered, but her tone was light and her voice soft. “I’m five times your age.” She went off towards the carriage, whilst the two men busied themselves inside the shuttle. Sev chose the seat in the middle of the shuttle – that would be the most stable firing position. Kodiak shuttles didn’t have inertial compensators, so all the passengers could feel the shuttle’s every bank and move. To compensate, most soldiers only fired when the craft was level; otherwise, they didn’t bother at all.

Levin smiled under his helmet, whilst running pre-flight checks. It was a good thing that they’d stayed friends. How long had he known her? Nearing 30 years, it was. They’d met at university –

He frowned. That moment at university; he’d come so close to telling her what he’d done. How he’d executed unarmed civilians in the name of the Hierarchy, and gotten a shining recommendation from his superior officer as a result. He could see what would have happened, had things been different. He would watch her as she backed away from him, fear in her eyes, all their previous camaraderie evaporated and carried away by the omnipresent Serran wind. And then he’d be alone. It was fitting, now that he thought about it; for what he did, he certainly deserved punishment, not congratulations.

Sev’s voice crackled over the coms. “Pony vehicle lining to launch out of the castle. Get in the air.”

Levin did so. Others were relying on him, and he was going to deliver.

-&-

Riana remained unaware of her friend’s inner thoughts as she boarded the pony carriage. Most of the ponies seemed indifferent about it; Armor was slightly more talkative, but Twilight’s face split into a massive grin as she fixed Riana with a stare.

It was quite cute, really. The unicorn reminded her of herself, when she was younger; hungry for knowledge. Most of her friends had gone out into the galaxy in their maiden stages, to become dancers or mercenaries, but she had stayed home to study. Now that she thought back, she wouldn’t have it any other way. Experience may have been a good teacher, but so were books. It didn’t hurt that her family was comparatively conservative as well, come to think of it.

She felt a light tug in her stomach as the carriage lifted into the air. The world seemed to tilt, outside the window – but oddly, she felt the effect of gravity on her feet rather than her back. It was artificial gravity. Advanced, for a species that had not started large-scale industrialization yet.

Twilight opened her mouth for another question, but Armor cut her off. “Twiley, it’s my turn to ask,” he said, forcing a smile. It was quite obvious to spot, really – the large eyes were big tells.

Riana nodded anyways. “Go on.”

“How did you three meet?” he asked.

“Levin and I met at university,” Riana began, thinking quickly. “We became fast friends. Still are. Sev, however… we hired him for security.”

“Why do you need security for archaeological digs?” Twilight asked; head cocked to one side.

“You ever heard of Feros?” Riana said, and then slapped the faceplate of her helmet with the palm of her hand. “No, course not. Used to be a Prothean colony. Skyscrapers, reaching kilometers into the air, covered two-thirds of the entire planet’s land mass. Used to be a center for the Prothean Empire, judging from what was recovered from the ruins. Anyways, before the place was stripped, looters and archaeologists both fought over the relics. Turned out, there was something even worse hidden there. Details are covered up, but fact remains is that a colony of 300 went silent. No one really knows what happened.”

“Prothean?” Twilight asked.

“A species that went extinct suddenly 50,000 years ago. They fought the Reapers, but lost.”

“Reaper?”

“Robotic machines. Very advanced. We don’t really know much about them, but a year ago they came into the galaxy and attacked us. Entire homeworlds fell,” Riana said, face scrunched as she fought the tide of emotion. “Khar’shan, Earth, Palaven… Thessia. Billions died. And they were holding back, apparently.”

“Billions? That’s horrible,” Twilight gasped. Even Armor looked shocked.

Riana nodded, but smiled grimly under her helmet. “In the end, we won. That’s why I’m still here.”

“What exactly happened?” Twilight whispered. "For billions to die..."

Riana shook her head, and looked at her clasped hands. “I don’t really know. I’m just a civilian, remember?”

Twilight didn’t look pleased, but she held off her questions. In the meantime, Riana looked out of the carriage window. It was a tiny, circular piece of glass that was wedged in between two pieces of wood, with some sort of resin keeping it in place. Through it, she could see the shuttle hovering behind the carriage – both as a safety measure, due to the heat of the thruster exhaust, and also in case of emergency…

Armor spoke suddenly. “Is Sev always like this?”

Riana raised an ‘eyebrow’. “Like what?”

“Violent, unsympathetic, blunt…”

She shrugged. “The krogan race is like that. For them, that is normal.”

“So you’re saying this is natural. For them.”

Riana sighed. “Look, if you want to know about krogan psychology, I’m not the best person to ask. You’ll have to ask him. He knows himself.”

Armor sighed. “That’s what I don’t want to do. I don’t want a biased view.”

Riana smirked. “Hell, I’m a biased view. All you can really do is ask as many people as you can.”

“How does violence become something treated so casually?” Twilight murmured. Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and disgust.

“Nature and nurture,” Riana replied, leaning back on her seat. “Biological hard-wiring, and cultural acceptance. It’s like asking why a carnivore needs to kill. They need to, and secondly, no one in their culture disapproves.”

Both Armor and Twilight nodded, and out of the corner of her eye, Riana could see the other soldiers’ ears swiveling towards her, even as their eyes were fixed forwards.

“I still don’t like it,” Armor said at last.

Riana shrugged. “Perhaps. But they are still members of the galactic community. If it makes you feel any better, then consider that we couldn’t have won the Reaper War as easily without their help. They died so we could live.”

Armor shook his head a bit, and Riana could see the bruising left on his neck; ugly dark red blotches beneath the skin. “Are you trying to justify his behavior?”

“No,” Riana replied evenly. “I’m just telling you the facts.”

-&-

They landed back in Canterlot Palace without incident, although the guards left the carriage quietly and quickly. The landing area was on the multi-purpose flatland that the corvette had been parked on. They’d spent almost an hour flying, and the two pegasus guards pulling the carriage had been dismissed, smiling gratefully at Armor as they trotted back towards the barracks. Sev hopped off as soon as they touched the ground, and Levin piloted the shuttle over to the spaceship to begin docking procedures.

Riana waited next to the pony carriage, leaning against the wooden frame. “Armor still hates you.”

Sev nodded. “Can’t do anything about it.”

The aforementioned pony stepped out of the carriage, alongside Twilight Sparkle – a close relative, judging by the affectionate names they called one another. “Where is Levin?” he asked, glaring at Sev.

Sev ignored his gaze, and threw a thumb back at the corvette. “Parking the shuttle.”

The turian came out of the airlock a moment later, assault rifle strapped to his back. He walked briskly towards them.

As he slowed down, an alicorn – the dark blue one, Luna – glided downwards from her balcony, to meet the group. It was nearly night-time – the sun was casting rays of pink-red light into the sky as it set but Luna didn’t seem particularly tired. Then again, she probably spent all day sitting on her throne.

The ponies bowed, and Luna greeted them with a nod. Levin and Riana had knelt down as well, but Sev remained standing, one hand still on the grip of his shotgun. Luna bade them to rise.

“How did it go?” she asked.

Twilight was the first to answer. “It was the best day ever! Did you know that” –

Luna cut her off. “You can tell me about that later, Twilight. I meant, were there any problems with our visitors?”

This time, Armor was the one to speak. “Four timber wolves attacked. Sev” – he spat out the name – “killed them all. Trace and Metal saw it happen in front of them. They may have some issues, and I recommend they see the psychologist.”

Luna nodded. “Very well,” she said evenly.

“If I may ask; how is your sister?” Riana said, keeping her tone light despite the heaviness settling in her heart.

Luna affixed her with an expressionless gaze. “She is well.”

“Glad to hear it,” Riana replied.

Luna nodded again. “How many more dig sites will you visit?”

“One more,” Levin said. “This one is comparatively far to the east. Past the sea, in fact. Here” – he summoned an orbital image of the area, depicting a long oblong depression surrounded by low hills in a U shape. The bottom of the U was a high plateau that tilted away from the depression, at a 10 degree angle.

“That is a problem,” Luna muttered. “It’s in griffon territory.” She thought for a moment. “Guards are counted as military. If they go with you, it’s an act of war. So, only civilian travel.” She looked at Armor. “Still, I want to know what is going on.” She glanced at Twilight, then back to the sky. “How about a delay of one more day?”

“It’s not your country. Why should you care about what we do in it?” Sev butted in.

“You landed in Equestria,” Luna said, bored. “They’ll think we had something to do. That we called in a demon, or some powerful beast. Then they’ll blame us if anything happens while you three are there. Griffon-pony relations weren’t the best already.”

Levin chuckled. “Well, sometimes all you need is a war and a common enemy for two races to stand together. Never thought I’d see the day the krogan and the turians started working together. Or the geth and the quarians, for that matter.”

Luna gave him an odd look, composed of both understanding and regret. It was the look that veterans gave you when you regaled them with tales of experiences on the front-lines; they could understand how you felt better than anyone else, because they themselves had undergone something similar before.

This Princess is hiding something, Levin thought, but he remained silent.

“We’ll meet here tomorrow, to plan,” she said. “Agreed?”

Riana nodded, which meant that both the males had to agree as well.

Luna signaled for Twilight and Armor to follow her back to the palace, and they did so.

-&-

The three ponies stood around the hospital bed. Celestia lay atop it, her wound healing with almost impossible speed. Even with the pony race’s innate regenerative power, this was astonishing. Luna chalked it up to the medi-gel administered. Well, that was one good thing that had come out of this. 

Celestia was already awake, and her face had broken into a small smile that Armor and Twilight returned. 

She looked to Twilight. “How was the expedition, my dear student?”

Twilight nuzzled her mentor. “Wonderful! Well, mostly wonderful, at least. Did you know that us ponies aren’t the first civilizations on Equestria? Riana told me all about it! Apparently, the former civilization had spaceships that could traverse the void between stars! And then she told me all about the alien races in the galaxy, and how…”

Celestia smiled as she heard her student ramble on and on. She had known about the former civilization – she’d taken the Elements from one of their structures, after all – but it wasn’t really that important, in her view. They were gone then, and they were gone now. 

She’d always wondered if these ruins were the relics of a dying, ancient race that gave sentience to them. Where they alone, or did that civilization also help others to ascend? Apparently the gift of intelligence had also been bestowed to other species across the galaxy. The existence of such aliens proved it.

According to what Twilight had heard, each of the aliens was of a different species. However, they were working together towards a larger goal. That was harmony in action. Sure, they got together not because of bonds of friendship, but it was a start.

Celestia’s wound flared as she shifted slightly, and her thoughts drifted back to that massive alien – Sev – that was the cause of it. She could take the dead manticore – after all, if any of her citizens had done the same, she’d have brushed it off as self-defense – but assaulting two guards and hostage taking, furthered by assault on her own body? That was inexcusable. She narrowed her eyes; a motion that Twilight immediately spotted, and the purple unicorn stopped her rambling. "Princess?"

"I'm fine, really," she replied, smiling. Twilight returned that smile as well, but hers was less confident. She'd seen through the mask. Really, Celestia hadn't expected anything less.

Armor waited until his sister had finished regaling her tutor with tales about the galaxy, and the he started to speak. “Two of the aliens appear to be decent people. The last one, however, is – if I may be frank – excessively violent. He also shows symptoms of classic psychopathy.”

Celestia grimaced, and pointed to her wound with a free hoof. “I think I already know that, Captain.”

Armor smiled bashfully. “He is a good fighter, though. He killed 4 timber wolves by his lonesome. His methods may be brutal, but I can’t deny their effectiveness.”

Someone like that will definitely be a problem here, Celestia thought. Best that his influence is curtailed.

“The expedition will continue into the Gryphonia later on,” Armor continued. “Then, they say they will leave.”

  Good.

Luna had looked on impassively, and after sensing that there was nothing more to say, turned and walked out of the hospital wing, towards her own room. Tomorrow was going to be a new day.

-&-

Sev awoke early, as usual. He donned his armor and walked outside, only to find Levin lying down on top of the shuttle. His employer appeared to be sleeping, but the tapping of his talons on his chest discounted that theory.

Sev walked around the shuttle. He could spot nothing that spoke of foul play – no residual dark energy signatures, no heat signs nearby – and the airlock door did not appear to be tampered with. So he was out here voluntarily.

A whisper of movement caught his eye, and he swiveled around to see Luna emerge from inside of a tower onto a high balcony. Another early riser. To the left, the sun slowly began to emerge from beneath the horizon, painting the sky a light pink.

Behind her was the one he’d shot – Celestia. He could still see the orange glow of the medi-gel below the base of her neck, working its magic. What was that for – ah, right. Now he remembered. Striker rounds were deadly if inside the body, as they were essentially miniature grenades, so internal damage much greater than that caused by standard shaved rounds. Still, there was that trade-off between armor penetration and raw explosive power. The wound was healing particularly quickly, though. Much faster than he’d expect; even with the help of medi-gel. Only vorcha and krogan had this ability to regenerate tissue.

She didn’t look particularly happy, and Sev stepped behind the body of the corvette, placing the massive metal object between him and her.

Levin had noticed as well, thanks to his sharp avian eyesight, and he swung his legs over the edge of the shuttle, landing on the grass. His Avenger rifle was hanging loosely off one talon, and as he walked over to Sev he folded it and strapped it to the back of his armor. 

Sev shook his head. “You’re not out of danger yet,” he said, gesturing over to the approximate location of the two alicorns.

Levin rolled his shoulders in response. “Your job is to keep me safe.”

“It’d be a lot easier if you didn’t try to endanger yourself,” Sev growled.

They heard the pitter-patter of footsteps behind them, and glanced back around to see the two alicorns approach. Both of them had stormy faces.

Sev put himself in front of Levin and the airlock door, cradling his shotgun casually. Levin, meanwhile, typed a command to set off the alarm in Riana’s omni-tool. He put it away, and then smiled.

“What did you do?” Celestia growled.

“You’ll see,” Levin replied evenly.

Strangely, Celestia seemed surprised; her jaw hung slack for a moment before she closed it forcefully. “Your voice… it’s like a griffon’s. Only the double timbre is a lot more pronounced.”

Levin did a quick codex search for ‘griffon’ and came up with a creature out of human mythology; some combination of feline and bird. He shrugged. “My species were partly descended from the birds.”

The airlock door hissed open, and Riana stormed out. “I missed my coffee for this – oh. Greetings, Princesses.”

Celestia smiled in amusement, but her scowl quickly reappeared.

“Follow me,” she said.

Levin and Sev raised their respective eyebrows and glanced at one another – if this was an invitation into an ambush, it wasn’t cleverly disguised – but Riana nodded. “Where are we going?”

“Your suspicions are not unfounded,” Celestia replied. “We wish for you to join us at the memorial for the fallen guards.”

Oh, now that definitely spoke of a trap. No doubt Celestia would have told her people that they were the cause of the guards’ deaths. The memorial would be full of ponies that wanted to kill, or worse, capture them – including the guards themselves, and perhaps even the two alicorns.

Sev looked down at his own set of armor. It was a customized set, scavenged from multiple sources and cobbled together, before being sprayed in maroon paint. Ugly as a whole, but effective. He couldn’t really ask for more. Spears wouldn’t pierce it. Biotics, however…

This expedition was sounding more dangerous by the second. Perhaps I should have negotiated a higher payment?

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

He rolled his shoulders, letting the armor pieces clink as they shifted. “What for?”

Celestia glared at him. “You three were the cause, indirectly or not. You will have to face the consequences.”

“Already have,” Levin muttered.

For his part, Sev merely shrugged. C-Sec said a lot of the same shit, and he’d gotten used to it. Indifference was the quickest way for them to ignore you.

Riana sighed inwardly. It sucked, being at the beck and call of these rulers. Still, they owed the ponies that much for what they did. Or, at least, for what Sev did. She walked up to Celestia.

Celestia waited until Sev was alongside her, before the two of them started to walk towards the barracks. Riana trailed closely behind, keeping Sev in between the alicorn. Luna, meanwhile, walked with Levin, and the two of them kept 3 meters behind the larger group.

Levin wasn’t surprised. In fact, he was looking for a chance to talk to her as well. It was odd, really – a former soldier and a princess sharing experiences – but he couldn’t find the heart to care just then.

“Hello, Princess,” he said conversationally.

She nodded in response. “When you talked about a common enemy – care to enlighten me?”

“Hmm. You’re going to have to be a lot more specific.”

Luna rolled her eyes. “What common enemy did you fight? And why?”

“Ah. Well, I can remember two off the top of my head right now. Reapers and separatists. Which do you want?”

They were nearing the memorial area now; ten coffins placed in front of ten holes in the ground, which themselves were in front of ten gravestones, bearing the names of the deceased. Frost, Sword, Hammer…

“Which one had the most effect on you?”

“Separatists.”

Luna looked surprised at this. “But I thought the Reapers killed more?”

“Aye,” Levin replied, expressionless. “They did. That war was simple. Brutal, but simple. We were fighting for the survival of our species.”

“But not the separatist war.”

Levin shook his head, just as he and the Princess reached their spots. They took center stage – standing behind the gravestones of the fallen, looking down a path in which several guard ponies were in dress uniform. Leading the procession was the Captain, Shining Armor.

On both sides of the path, keening families stood.

Riana hugged her shoulders tightly. This had gone so wrong. This was supposed to be a simple operation, damn it! Get in, fill the ship, get out and sell. Now they were to be placed as murderers, even when no one had done anything ‘wrong’, per se. Poor communication did kill. Relay 314, and now this...

Sev stood alongside her, acting as a meat shield between his employer and an enemy. Celestia hadn’t tried anything yet. He could see the gravestones and the coffins, courtesy of his wide field of vision. Curiously, the burying of one’s dead was distinctly human and turian – asari and salarians tended to burn the bodies and scatter the ashes into the fields, thanks to their beliefs in the cycle of life; and the krogan preferred to leave the bodies on the battlefield to show that they had died surrounded by enemies, fighting until their last breaths. Another curious parallel between humans and the ponies.

Sev sighed. This was boring. So they were dead. The Void would take them, and that would be that. The ceremony couldn’t change that. What purpose did it have? To remember the actions of the fallen? Why the sadness, then?

If they died heroically, surrounded by enemies and yet continued to battle, never giving up; they should be admired, not mourned.

“How did they die?” Celestia hissed. Her head was still pointing towards the coffins, but everyone knew who she was addressing.

“Automated defense system,” Riana said. “Designed to kill anyone who didn’t fit have the IFF code.”

The lie was a plausible one, Levin reflected. It would place blame onto all of them, yet none of them – because it appeared they hadn’t consciously decided to kill. It also had the unfortunate effect of appearing to place part of the blame on the dead guards – that they were too stupid to move away – rather than blaming the miscommunication between the two parties.

Celestia’s eyes roved over the facial plate of Riana’s helmet – but thanks to the tinting, she was unable to see anything under it. With a huff, she turned away. “This could have been avoided.”

With a blast of trumpets, and the mournful tune of a military band, the procession started.

Armor trotted up to the caskets, before turning to face the crowd. “Let it be known, that on the fifth day of the past week, in the mission known as Operation First Contact, these fine young guards were killed in action.”

The keening increased for a moment, before falling down to a quieter level, and Armor waited until he thought the crowd was ready before continuing. Riana could see the tears in his eyes as he spoke, but he made no move to brush them away. The sun shone brightly overhead, moving of its own accord – surprisingly slowly.

“Whilst guarding an alien vessel of unknown power and strength, keeping it from harming their fellow Equestrians, they were attacked by an unknown assailant.”

The crowd roared out in a mixture of anger and sadness, fear and hatred, and the keening increased in volume yet again.

Levin’s eyes were fixed on Armor, but his mind was drifting through his memories back 25 years.

-&-

  Macedon, Solregit
25 years ago

The blast rocked through the spaceport. Smoke poured out into the streets, turian families and even a few asari running away from the oncoming grey billows. The whole city could see the column of smoke, rising up from the former location of the spaceport. What had happened? No one knew, then. Not the turian father, cradling his asari daughter as they ran away from the city center. Not the newscaster, trying to keep his anger and shock in check as he relayed the events all across turian space with clenched teeth. Not Corporal Levin Risvirix, Solregit 2nd Infantry, sitting in the common room of his barracks along with his mates, all looking towards the shared TV screen.

Everything changed in the following days. As they dragged the bodies out of the ruins of the spaceport, covered in soot and the remains of flesh, with the help of the fellow turian citizens; as they dug a mass grave for all those charred beyond recognition, and for the miscellaneous body parts retrieved from the rubble; and as the most senior officer on the planet said the final rites praising the bravery of the fallen, Levin Risvirix changed as an individual.

As the separatists proclaimed their victory on galactic television – they’d crashed a freighter into the spaceport, apparently – the people all across Hierarchy space cried out for revenge. The Hierarchy agreed, and Order 227 was passed.

In the small military barracks 5 kilometers outside Macedon, Solregit’s capital, Levin walked down the narrow, dimly lit corridor towards Colonel Tavus’s office. He wasn’t the only one who had the same idea, apparently – another private walked out of the office in the opposite direction, nodding to Levin as she passed.

The office was small and cramped, with maps of the city of Macedon taking up the space of the back wall, and dimly bathed in a soft white light from the solitary fixture overhead. Tavus was slouching in his seat, supporting his face with his hands, elbows on the desk in front of him. As he heard the door creak open, he lifted his head and saw another volunteer.

Levin saluted in the doorway. “Sir, I’d like to join the hastatim.”

-&-

“They held the line, until the end, and for that we commit their names to record.”

As Armor finished, the guards lowered the bodies of their comrades into the holes. Many of them were weeping as well, and more than one casket wobbled as they were carefully lowered into the ground.

  Was this how we felt, back on Solregit?

Back then, I thought we were right to hate. But now, knowing both sides… who’s wrong? Who’s right?

Captain Armor bowed his head down in reverence to the gravestones, a move soon followed by the rest of the guards and even the Princesses. The families rushed to the gravestones, ignoring the ponies by their sides, and some lay down on the freshly laid earth, their weeping turning the dirt into mud.

Riana muttered some phrases; a lilting series of sounds that were too quiet for the translator to decipher. It sounded like a prayer.

Sev merely kept silent, glancing at the guards and the Princesses in turns. Death was a natural part of life. These guards had merely encountered a superior predator.

Levin clasped his hands together, and muttered his own prayers in his native dialect.

“Spirits, guide them to where the traveler never tires, the lover never leaves, and the hungry never starve. Guide them, Spirits, and they will be companions to you as they were to their loved ones.”

He stopped. That prayer, he’d said for himself a long time ago. It helped him cope.

Sev waited with a rare patience. Other races mourned their dead, and he’d once had to act as a bodyguard at a funeral. They said it was natural to be sad. It was just one of those things he would probably never know why.

Celestia looked over the display of sadness, and her anger rekindled into a fire. As her wound sent lances of pain throughout her body, and that fire turned into an inferno.

Her body language wasn’t subtle, not to someone who’d lived as long as Sev had. He placed a hand on the grip of his Claymore. No doubt Celestia would have biotic barriers as well, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Let me make something understood,” she snarled. “I won’t let you harm any of my citizens.”

“You don’t harm us, I don’t harm you. Or your people,” Sev replied coolly, hand still resting on the shotgun. It was an unspoken threat, and both of them knew it. 

Levin shook his head, and turned away from the memorial grounds, before starting to head back to the ship. Luna had taken no care in the sniping between the krogan and her sister – she merely took off after the turian.

Some pony had brought out a table onto the multipurpose field, and Levin sat opposite Luna as they waited for their companions to arrive.

“I used to be someone like that. A separatist leader, you could say,” Luna said suddenly, looking out towards her approaching sister.

“So you and your sister took power in a coup?” Levin replied, turning to face the Princess.

“No. We were already in power, when it happened. We had… a disagreement. And we fought. We must have destroyed half the city by the time we finished…”

“Everyone does something they’re not proud of during wartime," Levin muttered. "I’ve killed my fair share.”

“They were innocents,” Luna roared all of a sudden. “Their only crime was to be in the way, and for that, they died. Crushed under fallen buildings. Killed in the crossfire. Caught in flaming husks of buildings. Just, just bad luck.”

Levin had a sudden flashback to London, one year ago; fighting Reaper units in the ruins of buildings, watching unlucky civilians and soldiers alike incinerated unceremoniously  under the red gaze of a Reaper destroyer…

He shook his head. “Collateral damage.” He gestured to the memorial. “Like them.”

Luna sighed, and chuckled darkly. “Just a few days ago, and a death on duty would have been unimaginable. Now, with ten…”

Levin chirped, emptily. “Think that’s bad? We lost entire planets. Billions of lives lost, so billions more could live.”

Luna smirked. “You’re such an optimist.”

“Yeah. Could have been worse, had things gone differently. And, we got out of the whole thing knowing that we could only have survived working together. Gives peace a chance, as well as old soldiers some time to rest.”

Luna sighed. “I see what you mean. But that war was unavoidable. It was waged in the name of survival.”

Levin snorted. “All wars are waged in the name of survival. You fought to keep your idea alive, yourself if need be.”

Luna turned her head to look at him, face to face. “So, in your separatist war… what happened?”

Levin rubbed the forehead area of his helmet. “They were unhappy with the government. Wanted to separate from them, run their own government, you know? And since every adult turian has military training and weapons… you get the idea. Fact was, they were fighting for the survival of their independent government. The overseeing government fought for the survival of its control over the colony.”

“You were government loyalist,” Luna guessed, looking towards him.

He nodded. “The separatists attacked a spaceport in the capital, Macedon. Death toll 10,000 estimated. Estimated, because some were just vaporized in the blast. We responded in force.”

“They would. Fight fire with fire, magic with magic,” Luna murmured.

Levin hummed a bit at that.

“It is what my sister did to me,” she continued.

Levin shook the pops out of his joints. “Everything’s resolved now?”

Luna looked questioningly at him. “You’re not going to ask why we fought?”

Levin shook his head. “No point. It’s all in the past, now. But feel free to satiate my curiosity.”

“And if everything was not resolved” –

“Then things can change. There’s still time to change the future. Shepard taught all of us that.”

“Who is this… this ‘Shepard’?” Luna asked, head tilted.

Levin smiled, despite the grim atmosphere. “A hero.”
> Chapter 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 12

--

They’re not different or special, they’re jerks or saints. Just like us. – Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, 2183 CE

--

“Right,” Riana said, assuming control of the small team. “We’ve scoped out a wreck from orbit that looks like it’s got intact relics.” She pulled up a holographic display of the area from her omni-tool, letting it float in the air.

The ponies glanced at it in wonder. Luna stretched out a hoof, which unsurprisingly passed through the image. Every non-pony ignored her. 

“See this? It’s a griffon town,” Luna said, her hoof still in the midst of the hologram. “The architecture matches perfectly. Hard lines, aerial entrances and outside perches. It seems that some things stay the same, even after a thousand years.” Economical and sparse, Levin noted. Just like our buildings, back on Palaven.

Celestia shifted and harrumphed, whilst keeping the congregation in a cone in front of her. “It’s only 50 years old. It’s a fairly new settlement. There was a case of madness that spread through the town about a decade ago, and the animals there are unusually wild and violent – that’s why no one has claimed it before. Any recent news, I cannot say. This was before relations went sour.”

“What changed from 'before'?” Levin asked, filing away that information on insanity. The timeframe it had happened was close to the start of the Reaper War – too close to be just a coincidence.

“Firearms,” Celestia replied simply. “Though not like yours – longer, and made of wood.”

“Civilians are allowed weapons?” Levin asked, casually.

“Yes.” Celestia frowned. “They also all undergo mandatory military training when they become adults. I think that’s foolish, but it’s not my country to run.”

Levin simply made a sound of acknowledgement. If Celestia knew how close the turian culture was to the griffon culture…

Well. She wouldn’t be happy, to say the least.

“I’ve plotted a route,” Riana said, zooming out the image a bit to show both their destination and their current location far to the east. A red line shot ramrod straight across the sea, stopping at a mountainous area near the coast. Another blue line snaked towards a coastal Equestrian city, and then across the sea, before going to the town. “Red is for the shuttle, blue is for the carriage if you are to accompany us. I doubt your ponies have the stamina for a cross-ocean flight.”

Celestia shook her head. “I can’t. I have my duties. Much as I’d love to,” she said.

“I’ll go,” Luna said nonchalantly. “I would like to know more about the world as well.”

“You trust them?”

Luna nodded. “She trusted her life to the guards,” she said, pointing a hoof at Riana. “I hope I can do the same. And if not, I can protect myself.”

“Don’t get in the way,” Sev muttered. Luna shot him a glare, which he ignored.

“Who else is coming along?” Riana asked brightly, trying to cover the patch of awkwardness that had grown in the wake of Sev’s words.

“Captain Armor, as well as a few of his colleagues,” Celestia replied, glaring at Sev. “Since my sister is coming with you, this has become a diplomatic mission, so the guards will be in full armor. Twilight Sparkle will also accompany you three. It is also highly likely that you will be escorted by Gryphonian guards.”

“Spirits, I hate bureaucracy,” Levin mumbled. “They’d better not get their hooves or claws or whatever over the relics.”

“Sister. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I do not need guards,” Luna said, glancing over to Celestia. “Twilight is a powerful mage, and I am as well. Guards will only give the impression of an invasion or espionage.”

Celestia stomped a hoof on the ground. “I don’t trust them.”

“Then don’t.” Luna shrugged. “Leave me to choose my own path, and suffer my own consequences.”

Celestia sighed. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

Luna stayed silent for a moment, exhaling, before starting to speak. “You didn’t want to, the first time. But you still cast that spell. You still chose to use the Elements, even though you didn’t want to. I am choosing to go by myself, even though I know of the consequences.” Oddly, despite what she was saying, she sounded as if she didn't care too much. The end result was unsettling, to say the least.

Celestia left without another word, shaking her head, and Luna turned back around to face the three. “You probably all have questions, don’t you?”

“Some,” Levin said. Riana nodded. Sev stayed motionless.

“Well, go on. Ask away.”

“You don’t have duties?” Riana asked, head tilted slightly to the side. Perhaps they were just token figureheads for the government. Then again, their biotic power said not.

Luna had a lopsided smirk on her face. “I do, but my sister has been taking care of them by herself for a long time. She’ll be fine.”

“What happened ‘the first time’?” Levin said.

Luna twisted her head from side to side, and then sighed explosively. “I had a disagreement with my sister. It was over how much control we should exert on the ecosystem. My sister wanted total control, so that the citizens would be totally safe. I said that disrupting the natural order was dangerous. We fought, and she put me in stasis for 1000 years.”

“That’s a lifetime,” Riana breathed.

Luna nodded. “I could still think, but my bodily functions had stopped. My sister spread a myth that said I had been banished to the moon; my symbol.”

“Solitary confinement,” Levin murmured. “How did you keep yourself sane?”

Luna’s face twitched in annoyance, but then she smiled sadly. “I’m not sure I did.”

Levin sighed. "I'm sorry."

Sev grunted. “Sanity is overrated.”

“What?”

Sev sighed explosively. “If you think too much about what you’re going to do, you’re never going to actually do it. So if you want something done, you’d better be crazy. Sometimes, that’s the best way to go.”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

There was an awkward pause.

“So, when can we leave?” Levin said, resting his elbows on the tabletop and his forehead in his hands. At least they weren’t trying to kill one another. That was a start. Riana’s ‘hearts and minds’ thing must have really worked.

“Whenever Twilight arrives,” Luna replied. Then she looked up at the sky. It was noon. She estimated that the ‘shuttle’, if it matched the speed of the pegasi, could be there in five hours – meaning that they would reach the town at nightfall. Not good, considering that she and Sparkle would essentially be sleeping in a country that didn’t really like ponies, in this age and day.

“So only two passengers, plus two plus me in the seat – five,” Levin muttered, before turning to Riana. “Do you want to sit co-pilot? That’ll leave space for the cargo.”

Riana nodded. So that was that. “Princess – to speed up the recovery of the wreck, we should travel on the shuttle. That can get us there in a few minutes.”

Luna smiled. “Captain Armor told us of how you trusted us enough to ride on our vessel. Now, I hope I will be able to trust the three of you to ride on yours.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I still haven’t gotten in.” Luna laughed. It helped loosen up the atmosphere a bit, and both Levin and Riana were grateful for that. Sev, meanwhile, thought it was a stupid decision. Still, it was her stupid decision, not his.

His left eye caught movement. Armor was heading out from the barracks, at a steady speed, on an approach directly towards them. What does he want now?

“Armor approaching,” he muttered into the com link.

“Twilight Sparkle due twelve o’clock, palace main corridor,” Levin murmured as well. Sev and Riana could only see multicolored blobs weaving around in that same area – that meant she had to be quite a distance away.

Armor broke through the trees surrounding the field, and bowed as soon as he came within 3 meters of Luna. The Princess told him to rise.

“Princess – I need to know,” he said. “Is Twilight coming along?”

Luna’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened – word had gotten around surprisingly fast, considering that her sister had just told her of the arrangements. There must have only been five minutes that had passed…

She shook herself out of that reverie. There was no point lying. He would know, sooner or later. And, besides, she felt a bit of sadistic joy at telling him there was nothing he could do about it. 

“Yes,” she said, and had to suppress a smirk at the Captain’s shocked expression. “Why?”

“With them?” he asked, pointing over to the three aliens. His eyes were still on Luna, though. Sev repressed the sudden urge to head-butt the bastard.

“You think she is powerless? Unable to take care of herself? My sister volunteered her onto this outing. If you have a problem, take it up to her.”

“You’re the co-ruler, not a subordinate,” Levin said, more to himself than anyone else. Luna still heard him. “Why?”

“My sister has been taking over my duties for 1000 years,” Luna replied, although her tone was icy. “Even now, I am still adjusting. As such, I don’t deserve to be Princess. I am not helping my nation in any way.”

Levin held up his two talons. “Alright, alright.”

Luna continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “Armor… Armor?” She harrumphed. “He is persistent.”

The aforementioned pony had disappeared into the bowels of the castle.

-&-

Armor walked alongside Twilight. They were in the main throne room; a rectangular chamber where the Princess received guests and petitions, but currently was vacant. The two of them trotted out of the room in the direction of the alien ship.

This was it, Armor realized. His last chance to convince his sister not to waste her life on such a stupid endeavor had come. When she got eyes on her target, she could teleport away…

“Please, Twiley. Don’t go.”

Twilight sighed. She wasn’t particularly looking forwards to travelling with a psychopath, but the Princess had ordered her to. Well, not really. She’d been recommended to go along with Luna, to keep an eye on them all. Celestia seemed really anxious about Luna for some reason…

“I’m sorry, big brother. The Princess said I should, and I really don’t want to disappoint her,” Twilight sighed as she trotted.

“Even at the cost of your own life?”

Armor's words rooted Twilight in place, but the purple unicorn took in a deep breath as she shook off her misgivings. “First of all, you don’t know that. Although, there is a chance…” She tapered off, but as her brother smiled and opened his mouth, she continued. “But I trust the Princess. Secondly, she has ensured my safety by asking Princess Luna to come along with me. I am sure the two of us will be enough to deter any attacks on us.”

Though she started with a confident air, the image of the dead manticore, legs stripped to the bone, fur charred and eye sockets empty, came back to the forefront of her mind, and she thought she could suddenly smell the scent of burning flesh. She retched, and alongside her, Armor rushed to hold his sister as she shook.

“I’m fine,” Twilight said, but let her body be held. She felt safe, suddenly. The three aliens and their horrendous capacity to commit violence was straight in front of her, far in the distance – approximately 500 meters, Twilight guessed – but she now felt the strength to continue to walk forwards.

“Can you… walk with me?” she asked, gazing at Armor.

He smiled, and held up a hoof. “Ladies first.”

Twilight huffed, and swung her tail to lash softly at her brother’s side. “I can see why Cadance fell for you, Casanova.”

The two ponies shared a laugh as they trotted out slowly towards the field. For a short time, they felt as though they were in their childhoods again – just the two of them, before this whole business began…

-&-

Luna turned her head to see Twilight Sparkle and her brother, the Captain Shining Armor, emerge from the castle. About time, she thought. I’m not getting any younger. She laughed mentally. This routine had been borne out of the mind-numbing boredom she’d felt during her time in ‘exile’ – she’d been reduced to laughing at her own jokes, and making some of her own, just to fill the silence that was her senses.

Both of them trotted up to the Princess and bowed. This was getting ridiculous, Riana thought – this kind of behavior must have been really ingrained in them. For how many years? Luna mentioned a 1000 year exile, so that must have meant… approximately 4000 years of civilization? Still in the medieval era, then.

The ponies both rose and the one called Twilight spoke. “Princess Luna! I have been told by Princess Celestia that I am to accompany you on the expedition with our three visitors.”

Luna nodded, face set in boredom.

“I agree. But, only on the condition that my brother is allowed to accompany me.”

Now that was interesting. Riana looked at Armor – he’d been weeping recently, judging by the wetness of the fur around his eyes – but he’d made no effort to hide them. He wasn’t afraid of any stigma, probably owing to his status, and that probably meant he knew how large of a sacrifice his guards had made in the line of duty.

Sev shifted slightly to the side, and took a lower stance that she instantly recognized as a standard firing position. He hefted the shotgun once, bringing the butt of it to his shoulder, but kept the barrel pointing towards the side. The threat was silent but unmistakable.

Levin sat a bit higher, but otherwise didn’t show any sign that he’d heard the exchange at all.

Luna grimaced. “Guards are not allowed on this expedition. Any show of military strength could be taken as a sign of aggression, even with my presence, since the destination is not a usual spot for diplomatic meetings.”

“Can’t you… make an exception?” Twilight protested. Her purple eyes were big with worry.

Luna shook her head. “I’m sorry. Only my sister has the political clout to do so. And this will involve a meeting with the ambassador, as well as the processing of a visa. Even the travel time is a day, there and back. The whole thing would probably take about two days, even with the strings my sister can pull.”

"Why not?" Twilight asked. "They must know you're the co-ruler of Equestria!"

"Even the Ponyvillian townsfolk did not, the last time I went to visit," Luna deadpanned.

Levin whistled, drawing everyone's attention to him. “We do this today, or not at all. And by that, I mean we three will leave without you.”

Twilight’s ears drooped and she looked at the ground, shoulders slumped. She sighed. “There has to be another way…” she whispered.

Armor furrowed his brow and dropped into an attack posture, crouching low and shifting his weight to his rear. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Sev growled. “Fucking try me.”

Riana jumped in before the two males came to blows, or in this case, shots. “We have agreed to take Princess Luna along. Whether or not you two accompany her is up to you.”

Luna seemed almost disappointed that nothing had happened, but then again, that could be attributed to her relative lack of facial expression. “Captain Armor.”

The Captain took the chance to look away from Sev and towards Luna. “Your Majesty?”

Luna rolled her eyes. This royalty thing was actually quite inefficient – a shame that her sister was a stickler for tradition, preferring the old ways even as she professed a desire to be treated as a normal pony. “Were you not so dedicated to the protection of Canterlot that you neglected to tell your sister of your wedding personally?”

Armor narrowed his eyes and nodded. He started to get a chill running up from the base of his spine.

“Even though your sister could have been attacked during her journey here? Did you stop maintaining the magic shield for a second, to go and escort your sister?”

“No,” Armor whispered, and looked at the ground, hanging his head.

Levin nodded slowly. He could respect this pony. Armor had sacrificed his own happiness for the welfare of his people and community. That was what he did, all those years ago. Or so he believed, at the time.

“I simply forgot,” Armor continued, in that same low voice that suggested defeat. He laughed an empty laugh. “I forgot about the welfare of my own kin, even when I was responsible for the welfare of the entire city.”

Sev chuckled. “Same for your sister, then,” he said, looking to Luna.

The alicorn narrowed her eyes, and looked to the side for a moment. “True.”

Twilight and Armor grimaced, and looked bashfully at Luna.

“It’s a perfectly logical choice,” Sev continued, ignoring the awkwardness that grew with every passing second. “Just ruthless calculus. Kill one thousand here, so two thousand over there get to live.” He smiled grimly.

“How can you be so callous about murder?” Twilight exploded, eyes blazing in fury. 

Righteous anger, Levin realized, just like those at Cerberus. He shivered. Those experiments they’d performed in the name of humanity’s progress… Secretly, he hoped the reports had been fabricated or exaggerated, although his more logical side told him that the reverse was probably true.

Sev didn’t so much as bat a brow-ridge. “War. Work.”

“Murder is work?”

Sev shrugged, emitting a whirr as the servos in his armor worked. “For me it is.”

“I used to work as a soldier once,” Levin muttered, tapping the ends of his long talons on his armored knee and foot.

Armor perked up at this, whilst Twilight’s mouth hung open in shock. “Used to.”

Levin nodded.

Armor tilted his head slightly. “Why didn’t you continue?”

“I became… disillusioned.”

Twilight, meanwhile, recovered and shot a dirty glare at Sev. “I’d hate to be in a society like that.”

Sev shrugged and rolled his head. The pony was naïve, but then so were all non-krogan. Other species tended to skirt around the idea of war and violence, believing in the sanctity of life, even as their holovids preserved it in digital form; turians were the only other species that understood its necessity.

Some things never changed. Not even after the galaxy’s battle for survival.

Riana, meanwhile, stood to the side, silent and observant. One more piece to the puzzle, she thought. Disillusionment. That suggested a former belief in the military had been defiled; somehow, he’d stopped believing in why he fought. Coupled with PTSD, that pointed to a shocking experience – either being subjected to or committing torture, or any other immoral orders. And most turians didn’t disobey orders.

The last piece of the puzzle was his behavior towards the civilians, way back on first contact. He’d jerked away – the sight of the civilians was a trigger for a flashback, she was certain – and shouted “No!” suggesting guilt. So that meant his experience was during an operation in the civilian areas; counter-insurgencies and the like. When had she first asked? 20 years ago? And he was only 23 years of age, back then. The mandatory military service lasted for 5 years, starting from the age of 15 – which meant he spent 3 years in the ‘real’ military. He wouldn’t be trusted with torture – that would be handed over to the more senior officers, whose skill and loyalty to the state were assured.

The whole puzzle pointed to immoral orders. Those were rare, however; turians were notoriously strict and ‘by-the-book’, which meant that the orders had to have been accepted by the higher-ups, even though the standard soldier could have disagreed. So, these orders were linked to one of the few controversial issues in turian society – and the only military one – the hastatim corps.

Levin had been a member of the hastatim.

She understood now. That was the reason why he was so secretive of his past. The hastatim were known as ‘death squads’, and this was a distinctly turian thing; asari valued the sanctity of life, and salarians valued their short lifespans too much to consider something like this. Humans were even more abhorrent of the idea; ‘death squad’ had some nasty connotations that stemmed from some of their pre-spaceflight wars…

Her friend suddenly looked a lot more dangerous. She saw the spurs jutting upwards out of his ankles, like knives; on his armor, an outdated turian military version, she saw every scrape and imperfection from a lifetime of wear and tear, a testament to the violence it had seen; she saw how casually he tapped his long talons on his kneecap, like he was tapping away at the trigger of a gun –

Stop it, she admonished herself. I shouldn’t judge him based on his past. She looked at Luna, the Princess who’d flattened a city and extinguished thousands of lives in the distant past – she seemed so normal now, like any other member of the society. Not a psychopath, or a murderer.

Still, one who joined the hastatim knew what they were getting into – the mindless killing of every uncooperative civilian they could find – and someone who went into the corps was somewhat amoral. Right?

He’s changed, she told herself. He said he was disillusioned. He doesn’t believe in the killing anymore.

Anymore? So he did once? That means he’s just another ‘former’ cold-blooded killer –

Shut up!

Riana groaned and held her head in her hands, sitting on the grass. She was probably going to get the armor dirty, but at that point she didn’t really care.

Sev noticed, and ambled over to her. “Maybe you should sit this one out. You look sick.” He knew what was wrong – he’d seen her stare at Levin, moving back a few steps. She’d figured it out. By the looks of it, the secret wasn’t very pretty. To her, at least.

Riana caught on at once. “Yeah. I…” she trailed off as Levin turned his head to look at her.

“Need any help?” he asked, making to move out of his chair.

Oh, shit. “No, no, no. I’m fine. I just need some time,” she said, standing up and starting to head to the corvette. 

By now, all the ponies present were staring at her, and she felt a bit like a celebrity on Illium who’d been busted on shoplifting.

“Well?” Levin said, trying to shake off his thoughts on her odd behavior. It seemed like indigestion, but something didn’t add up. “Who’s going on the trip?”

That got Armor talking. “I’m staying with Twilight,” he said. “Princess Celestia can uphold the security of Canterlot for a day.”

“Or so you hope,” Luna interjected. “Would you forgive yourself if anything happened to Canterlot? Or your sister?”

Armor groaned, and put his head on the table. “Princess, please. I don’t know what to do.”

Luna shrugged nonchalantly. “Do whatever your heart tells you.” It doesn’t really matter in the long run.

She felt fairly certain saying that. Luna had been in stasis for so long, everything she’d ever known had changed – friends had died, farmland became city, and even the language had mutated over the years. Luna might as well have been on an alien planet for all she knew. Even now, one year after her release from stasis, she still felt like an alien on her home planet.

There was no point in getting attached to worldly goods, Luna thought. Canterlot, Twilight Sparkle – both would meet their end someday. True, one’s actions could influence the time of their ending – Armor was saying as much – but one could only live for so long…

Luna hummed a bit, and shuffled her wings absentmindedly. Was she unaffected by old age? Was her sister? She knew that she was one of the few alicorns in the world. None, so far, had been reported dead. What was the point in taking care of something if it was just going to crumble away into dust, the next millennium?

Her sister had gotten a psychiatrist for her – something about an emotional connection that her sister felt she lacked – and she’d always found those sessions a waste of time. Her sister had to understand that – she was in the same situation, after all – but she decided to spend all her time doting on the pony civilization, which would fall sooner or later. Not much of a point, Luna thought.

Armor noticed the Princess’s vacant expression. He’d gotten used to it. On the night after she’d been cured, he’d gotten reports that the Princess hadn’t come out for breakfast at all after being led to her room – and when he’d gone into her room personally, what he’d seen shocked him.

The Princess of the Night sat on the grand carpet of her chambers, on a small pool of her own blood. Her mouth moved, yet she made no sound. It was then that Armor knew she wouldn’t be healed just by the power of the Elements. Of course, he’d called the other Princess. Nopony knew what to do. Everypony present had been sworn to secrecy, lest the other nations take advantage of Luna’s unstable mental condition – but even when their lips were sealed, their minds were not.

He didn’t trust Luna to take care of his sister. He didn’t trust her to take care of herself, even. But in her weakened state, Celestia would be unable to defend herself or her city from an invasion. The changeling attack had shown them that much.

Choices, choices. Did one mare mean so much in the grand scheme of things? Would the country, as a whole, be better off if it was Twilight, rather than Canterlot, that fell?

Yes.

Still doesn’t make it easier to stomach. And, you weren’t much help in Canterlot as well.

Armor’s ruminations were shattered as Levin’s voice sounded out, the sub-harmonics adding a purr to it. “Just keep Twilight here. Then you can stay and defend your city, as well as your sister, at the same time. Simple.” He waved his talons in the air. “No objections?”

“But the Princess…” Twilight muttered, shifting her weight from foot to foot. No matter what choice they made, she’d end up disappointing someone.

“Fuck the Princess,” Sev growled from the back. Levin ignored him. “We should go. We’ve wasted enough time.”

Luna felt the familiar anger coil around her head and chest, but it dissipated almost immediately. The alien was right. Every pony couldn’t be kept satisfied – sooner or later, somepony was going to get slighted. She was living proof of that.

Armor closed his eyes, and for a moment, he looked as if he was sleeping, if not for his standing posture. When he opened them, he looked more ragged than heroic – a pony driven who’d sacrificed everything else to protect the one thing he truly loved. Levin knew that look. Everyone on Earth, in London during that fateful day, had been prepared to die – literally sacrifice everything they had – for the survival of their species. He knew he had, although his reasons were murkier.

“I’m with you, Twilight,” he whispered, seemingly disbelieving of what he was saying. Every pony present knew, however, that he was deadly serious. “Wherever you are, I’ll protect you.”

“What about Cadance,” Twilight replied, in a tone mirroring her brother’s. The two turned to one another. “You can’t just abandon her…”

“No, I can’t,” he sighed, body slumping. It appeared that he’d aged 20 years in a second – the weight of responsibility, Levin realized. Tavus had that kind of posture too, when he thought no one was looking at him. And that responsibility was breaking both Armor and Tavus down, grinding them into the dirt. The last Levin had heard of Tavus was that the old bird had been promoted into a desk job, much to the surprise of his colleagues, who'd all thought he'd prefer the action of the battlefield.

“It’s the ruthless calculus,” Levin said, shaking his head. “Sev was right. It’s all sacrifices in the end. You have to pick the one that gives you the best outcome, based on the present information, and accept it.” This lesson was taught to all turians during their military service. The past couldn’t be changed, only learned from. Humans tried to save everyone, and got disappointed when they couldn’t; but turians understood that, sometimes, that outcome was not possible, and they would accept it. What was that idiom? If only one turian is alive at the end of a war, that is a victory.

“What is the best outcome, then?” Armor snapped. His face was quivering with the stress, and it looked like he'd break down any second now.

Levin shrugged. “If it was me, save the city. Then again, your sister could be some sort of general or academic that’s worth more than the city’s entire population. I don’t have that information, you do. So choose.”

Twilight and Armor both turned to face one another.

“Twilight, please,” her brother begged. “Don’t go. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”

The purple unicorn also had tears in her eyes, and she made no effort to conceal them. “I know, Armor. But there comes a time when the baby bird has to leave the nest, you know? And this – despite all of my misgivings – is an unheard-of event. I fear, if I don’t grasp this chance, then ponykind will have missed a valuable opportunity.”

She nuzzled him. “Sorry. I’m going.”

Armor smiled a smile that creased his face with lines of worry and anxiety. “Then I’m coming with you. Canterlot will be safe in the meantime. It’s only a day.”

“The Batarian Hegemony fell in only three days,” Sev muttered.

Armor’s eyes flicked over to him, and narrowed.

“To be honest, they were done in from the inside,” Levin said, pushing his long fingers together into a steeple. “Indoctrinated officials. Reapers destroyed their ability to fight even before firing the first shot.”

“That’s similar to what happened the last couple weeks ago,” Twilight exclaimed. “The changelings infiltrated the city.”

Changelings. Another faction. Griffon, pony, changeling. What else? Levin filed the information away in his head. Sev did the same.

Luna shook her head, and the sudden action brought everyone’s attention to her. “Armor. You are only one pony. Your strength lies in those loyal to you. That is not innate to you. You made a mistake during the invasion – arrogance. Overconfidence in your own abilities. You thought you could sustain the shield by your lonesome, and that the shield was enough. You paid a heavy price for that mistake.”

That was deep. It must have been the thousand years, Levin thought. Truth be told, he was thinking about pretty much the same thing. Shepard. The human was an exceptional soldier, but without his allies, he wouldn’t have been able to cure the genophage. Or broker peace between the geth and the quarians. Or rally the galaxy behind one banner, to bring to bear upon the Reapers.

“This is an order, Captain,” Luna continued, face expressionless. “You will accompany us. As per diplomatic protocol, you shall wear no armor and bear no weapon.”

She got off of her chair, and trotted over to the waiting shuttle.

Armor shook his head. “Can’t disobey a direct order, can I?” he said, nuzzling with Twilight. He felt happy – being with his sister, making sure she was safe – and he hated himself for such selfish thoughts. Being in the Guard was about protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves – and arguably, the citizens of Canterlot needed him more than his sister did. She had saved Equestria… thrice? Why did he still feel that need to protect her?

Because life is cheap. Even the changelings stopped before they took any lives. Discord certainly didn’t. But these, these aliens – to them, life is nothing. Something to be crushed underhoof and forgotten.

-&-

The time for departure had come.

Riana had come out of the corvette, and stood next to the shuttle as she waited for the group to arrive. The couple of minutes she’d spent, alone, had helped. Levin may have done some horrible things in the past – but it was the past. What he did now would be a better judge of his character, she hoped, than a nasty history.

Wasn’t that what Shepard thought about the krogan race? That they deserved salvation, thanks to the fairly successful efforts of Urdnot Wrex to reform his species? He had to have known about how brutal the Rebellions had been. And, yet, he still cured them.

Pragmatism, a small part of her chided. Krogan support was needed for the war.

She shook her head as they came within 10 meters of the shuttle. She had things to do.

Levin and Sev led the congregation – Levin was in front, alongside Luna, and Sev was walking in a way reminiscent of a crab – obviously to keep an eye on the whole group.

“Go on in,” she said, gesturing to the shuttle’s cargo bay area, currently open to the world.

The ponies did with varying degrees of reluctance. Luna simply trotted inwards, whilst Twilight glanced around the edge of the door and the insides of the cargo-hold. Armor, meanwhile, seemed to be steeling himself for the arduous task of setting foot inside an alien vessel. Sev kept an eye on them, and Riana suddenly had a mind’s eye view of him as a babysitter. She shivered.

Levin made to walk into the shuttle as well, but Riana stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

Even under his helmet, she could tell what expression he wore. Bewilderment. Slight fear. Anxiety. It was all hidden under the carapace plates of his face, but she’d known him for the better part of 2 decades, and she fancied the thought that she knew him well enough for the guesses to be accurate.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, shifting his weight to his other foot.

Riana had to smirk at the irony. She felt fine. He, however…

She didn’t like to presume that she knew exactly what her friend was thinking. But PTSD could cut deceptively deep, and she didn’t like to see her friend in pain either.

“I’ll always be here. For you to talk to. If you want to, that is…” she said. Goddess, this was awkward. It sounded better in her head.

Levin nodded slowly. “Erm, okay? Thanks. I appreciate you taking the time… to look after, well, me. Not like that, but… yeah.”

Both of them shared a chuckle, helping to dispel the serious atmosphere that had built up. Twilight was right, Riana thought. Laughing really can help.

-&-

As the shuttle lifted into the air, the two aliens in the cargo hold looked out of the open door.

The corvette looked like a slim arrowhead, hard edges contrasting with the flowing lines of trees around the field. In the corner, the memorial stood, and by the colored blobs nearby, it appeared that some grieving families had stayed throughout noon. Some of the guards had as well, judging by the spots of gold they could see. Brothers ‘til the end.

Luna seemed to like the view from up here. She lay on a row of seats, taking up three of them, whilst Armor and Twilight chose the floor instead. Riana sincerely hoped that Levin had taken the time to wash the pony blood off.

Levin made to close the cargo door. As the metal panels slid together, Luna bolted upright. “No! Please!”

Riana punched the door button, and once again, the door slid open with a hiss.

Luna shot her a grateful smile. Was she thinking about her time in stasis? Was it like a sensory deprivation tank?

Torture by means of pain had been outlawed, both thanks to its immorality and its uselessness. Chemicals, specially designed for interrogation, had replaced them as methods of extracting information from uncooperative subjects. Still, the Terminus Systems pirates and mercenary gangs didn’t have access to those chems, so they made do with the next best thing. She’d heard of the stories. Everyone had.

Levin’s voice crackled over the intercom. “I’ll have to go slower if you want the door open. ETA thirty minutes.”

“Thank you,” Luna replied, her voice weary. She lay her head down and stared out.

Riana felt the kick of inertia in her stomach as the shuttle accelerated, blurring the grounds below. Green, verdant forest began to rush past, and in the corner of her eye she could see Twilight and Armor trying to extricate themselves from one another. The inertia had caused them to crash into the life packs under each seat. She stifled a giggle.

Opposite her, Sev sat, strapped to his seat, seemingly ignoring the whole commotion. His assault rifle pointed out of the shuttle.

As the shuttle reached cruising velocity, Twilight slowly pushed herself up, face red as a tomato. “I’ve flown before, but never this fast.”

Riana could testify to that. The launch of the pegasus carriage was light, and she’d barely felt a thing as they took off. “Sorry, but it’s the only way to get there quick. There’s a bad feeling that we’re getting from this.”

Sev put two and two together. “The madness. You don’t think…”

“Indoctrination? The timing’s too perfect. I really hope not, but if it is…” Levin chipped in, trailing off as he realized the implications of what he said.

Riana glanced over at Twilight. The unicorn appeared to be an expert on local events, although she didn’t know why Twilight was so knowledgeable. She had mentioned the Princess in awe-filled tones – was it possible that she was the Princess’s daughter? Admirer? Friend? “What do you know about this, Twilight?”

Twilight shrugged. “Not much. There are some old documents and newspapers that talk about it, I’m sure, but I’ve never really looked into Gryphonian news.”

“I have,” Luna said, drawing everyone’s attention towards her. “During my 'recovery'. They said it was either an infection, or a local cult. The entire townspeople became… insane. The wildlife became a lot more aggressive, as well. Before, the firearms that the townspeople carried could keep them at bay. As the madness became known, they attacked. Simply threw themselves at the town.”

“Indoctrination isn’t really that well studied,” Riana muttered. “It’s possible that this could be a side effect. Simple madness. No desire to serve, but just to die.”

“Serve who?” Armor asked, feeling a chill run down his back. If it were the changelings, or even the diamond dogs…

“Reapers. I thought everything of theirs had been destroyed. The specifics aren’t known, but…” Levin sighed, inducing a static-filled noise in the cargo bay. The ponies groaned.

“And I thought I killed enough husks to last a lifetime,” Sev murmured, resigned.

Riana didn’t like it, but Reaper influence seemed like the most probable cause. The manuscripts of the civilization she’d studied painted a world on fire – fighting, and losing, against an invincible foe. The ‘god-gun’ as it had been nicknamed had destroyed some of the attackers, yet the same weapon had eventually gone silent.

She swore. “I thought all Reaper artifacts had been destroyed?” Riana asked, although her tone wasn’t one of hope, just resignation.

“I hope this one is. The remaining husks, though… what to do with them?”

“Really?” Sev growled. “What else? Talk them to death?”

Twilight perked up. “We could try to reason"-

“Ha! That’s rich! See how long you last. Takers for over 3 seconds?” Sev clapped his hands together, creating a booming noise that reverberated in the hold of the shuttle. “No one?”

Twilight had shrunk back by now, trying to make herself as small as possible, and her face was in a mix between shock, fear and anger. Riana sighed, and knelt down to place a hand upon her shoulder. “I’m loath to say it, but putting them out of their misery would be for the best.”

Luna nodded. “Mercy kill,” she murmured.

“Princess, not you too!” Armor exclaimed, standing up. “This is actual murder!”

“Do you have a better idea?” Sev snarled. Stupid ponies. Did they think they could negotiate with the Reapers? They’d never seen a Cannibal eat his former comrade. They’d never seen a man impaled on a spike, his eyes turning into blue lights, pipes erupting through his skin, turning to a husk, before their very eyes. They’d certainly never seen a brute cut an armored turian soldier in half with its steel claw.

“Stand down!” Riana shouted, holding her hands up, palms facing Armor and Sev. Neither seemed pleased right now, but she didn’t care. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. If there are Reaper forces, we’ll need to stand together to beat them. Got it?”

Armor nodded, albeit reluctantly. Sev, meanwhile, snorted, before tilting his head towards her. “Or we could just leave. No amount of money is worth indoctrination.”

“I agree with him,” Levin said, over the intercom. “This is out of our hands. We’d be worse than dead if we got turned. Besides, the cache we have is enough.”

Riana did a few quick calculations. He was right, she realized; they could just leave, and repay the loan they’d taken out. But what about afterwards? They would just go back here, lift more relics, sell them, and repeat the process. 

Of course, there were other places. Eingana, Ekram, amongst others. But neither had as many hulls as this. This was supposed to be a former homeworld after all…

“No,” she said. “We continue. It’d take too long to survey other planets.”

Levin caught the subtext. “True. Yet, we might not even have the chance to survey if we continue.”

She thought for a moment. “Let’s just go and check. It’ll only take, what, twenty minutes? Thirty back, in case. Better now, than later.”

Levin harrumphed, but most tellingly, he kept the craft on course.

Sev grumbled. “You two are insane.”

Luna smirked. “Sanity is overrated, didn’t you say?”

“Damn right,” the krogan said, shaking his head.

The two lapsed into silence, and both of them started to stare out of the window at the passing landscapes. Trees stood as far as the eye could see, and from the shuttle, it appeared that they were flying above a sea of rolling green waves. A moment later, and the green turned into the grey canyons of a city, before transforming into the blue-grey of the sea.

Riana diverted her attention to Twilight. The pony seemed none too perturbed by the shuttle’s flight – perhaps she’d done something similar before? “Twilight, may I ask you a question?”

Twilight glanced at her, and nodded her assent.

“Why do you have those tattoos on your rear leg?”

The pony glanced backwards at the aforementioned tattoos; a purple star, surrounded by five white ones.

“It’s my cutie mark!" Twilight exclaimed, perking up. "It symbolizes what I’m best at doing. My talent is magic.”

Magic. That one word again.

“What is… magic?” Although she tried to keep her voice high and light, she couldn’t help but let a little sarcasm through. Magic didn't exist, although there was that one quote from this famed human artist: ‘Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic’. Electricity would have looked like magic to a Bronze-Age civilization. Could it be possible that these ponies had organs that allowed them to perform ‘magic’? That they were genetically engineered by this ancient civilization? There certainly had been a lot of advanced tech on this planet, according to the manuscripts.

Before the Reaper War, she’d have scoffed. Evolution didn’t work like that. Now… evolution didn’t seem to be the only way to advance a species.

Twilight rattled off a list of examples, some of which sounded ridiculous, yet others that sounded like typical mass effect field applications. Teleportation was one. Moving the sun and the moon… that sounded ridiculous, yet the logs of the VI had shown that there was some sort of gravitational anomaly that coincided with the rising and setting of the sun. Changing one thing into another? Well, she wasn’t exactly a physicist, but she’d heard of reports from various corporations that had ended up doing that. Weren’t the Citadel’s food extruders the same? Turning waste into edible ‘food’?

The idea of Reaper indoctrination had appeared preposterous, once upon a time. And the galaxy had paid the price for that mistake in blood.

“So, your… cutie mark appears? Just like that? ‘Poof’?” Riana asked, waving her hands at that last word.

Twilight shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “Yes.”

Armor went up to her, seemingly shielding her from any more questions. “She doesn’t feel comfortable answering your questions anymore.”

I noticed.

Riana nodded, and went back to her seat. Inside, her mind buzzed with theories.

Genetic destiny. Wasn’t this the answer to that ‘nature or nurture’ question? Ponies here are born with the clear talent of doing this one task over another. We’ve all felt that way. Some of us are better at sports, others at academics. Just that we don’t get a mark on our asses to tell us which we are better at.

She could accept that.

The shuttle flew on.

-&-

Twenty minutes of bored, yet tense, silence passed as the shuttle crossed the maritime border of Equestria, and the first sight of the opposing shore could be seen. Looking out of the shuttle’s front viewport, Levin could see the mountains of Gryphonia fast approaching – they towered high above the shuttle, casting shadows on the land. Even now, in the age of space elevators, the sight astonished him.

It was now that he realized there was going to be a problem.

“I’m going to have to fly over the range. I guess it’s about 5 km up, and so ambient air temp will be lower than freezing. I’ll have to shut the door.”

He passed that message through the intercom, and waited for a response.

-&-

Luna’s eyes widened, and her pupils shrank into pinpricks. “No, please! I don’t want to be in the dark again!”

“It’s just the inside of a cargo hold. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Sev groaned, and rolled his eyes. “Levin. Turn up the lights in here.”

Being a military shuttle, the Kodiak didn’t really have the best in comforts and amenities. Instead of power-draining white bulbs, red ones dominated the ceiling. As such, the lights painted the inside of the hold in red, and every pony present had the uncomfortable image of being drenched in the blood of their country-ponies.

“This also lets me speed up. We’ll be over in a minute, give or take,” Levin said suddenly.

The crackle of the intercom lanced a bolt of fear through Luna, and she leapt up with a yelp, hitting her head on the ceiling of the cargo hold.

Through the pain, she grinned. Pain was good. It meant that she was free, alive and free. Not in stasis. Not anymore.

“You said you’d protect me?” she hissed, clamping her hooves on the top of her head. She could feel them on her skin. Good, good.

Sev shrugged, and tapped out a rhythm on his gun. “Not from yourself. Besides, I’m paid to protect them two” – he pointed to the cockpit door and Riana – “not you ponies.”

“Can’t ever do anything from the goodness of your heart?” Luna groaned. The pain had turned into a dull throbbing, and as the adrenaline of the event wore off, it seemed to intensify in amplitude. “Faust!”

Sev chuckled darkly. “Not sure there is any. And it’s hearts. I got two.”

Luna shook her head, through her hooves. “Fair enough.”

“Princess! You’re… you’re justifying that?” Twilight’s voice was clear, and in the confined hold, seemed to echo.

The echo reminded her of her own thoughts, racing around her own head as she stood in stasis, building and building and changing –

She smacked a hoof down onto the metal construction of the shuttle seat. A short, sharp pain thudded up, and she smiled. She wasn’t in stasis. Not anymore.

“No, Twilight. I simply stated that I understood why he does that.”

“Why, then?” Twilight exclaimed. She was clearly unconvinced. Celestia’s conditioning had worked, then. Of course, her sister would say that that was a lie. Did Celestia even know? Perhaps. In either case, it didn’t matter. The student was like this now, and different versions of the past couldn’t change that fact.

“Why are you so close to your friends,” Luna countered, slowly. “Please, answer me.”

Twilight shivered. It was like she was speaking to a new Luna. Or maybe this was the one that had been her all along, and the socially awkward, hopeful mare on Nightmare Night was just a ‘phase’. “I like them. They are kind, and generous, and”–

Luna cut her off with a wave of her hoof. “Yes. But does that mean that you are only friends with them because of that? Because you want somepony to go to, and comfort you; you want somepony to give you things when you can’t get them; you want to feel happy and fulfilled. And you get friends to serve your own desires.”

“That’s… that’s not… I…” Twilight broke off, and she looked down at her hooves. Luna had a point. Her friends provided her with company – they were willing to listen to her, and she to them. They helped her, and she them. Even though some of them could be a little… annoying at times, she wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Why wouldn’t she?

She only wanted them because it made her feel good. She made them feel good as well, which made her feel good inside. It was a symbiotic relationship… but it was still in her best interests to continue that relationship.

Luna was right.

“Hmm, Twilight?” Luna said, after a short pause. There was a smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

“You’re right, Princess,” Twilight mumbled, looking downwards. “My friends do make me feel good." She glared up at the Princess. " But I return the favor. I help them when they need it, and in return I make them feel good. Is that so bad?”

Luna smirked. “I never said that it was bad. I only said that this desire for friendship was selfish. Is selfishness, by itself, bad? Perhaps it is, as my sister says so. Then again, if it is, why isn’t the desire for friendship bad, as it is so selfish?”

“We’re over the range,” Levin’s voice crackled. “Eyes on target.”

As if on cue, the shuttle’s side doors flicked open, and freezing air rushed in. The two aliens were insulated by their suits of armor; but the ponies started to shiver, even as the ground got closer and closer.

Luna seemed to wilt, sighing contentedly as she melted into the seating, staring out of the window.

The shuttle’s open door started to reveal a landscape of tundra, punctuated here and there with swathes of green-white forest. The sky was still blue, but here, it wasn’t the tinted, manufactured light blue that was in Equestria – this was the deep, proud blue reminiscent of sapphire.

Twilight gasped, and alongside her, Armor had his mouth hanging open as well. Riana guessed that neither pony had ever been here before. Or abroad, for that matter.

Luna was the only one that seemed wistful rather than amazed, as she looked onto the landscape.

Unfortunately for the passengers, their time of quiet observation was brought to a close by the sudden thump on the bottom of the shuttle.

A white, feathered eagle’s head, with two blue feathers on the crown, poked up from under the shuttle, facing the passengers. It seemed to be keeping pace with the shuttle, somehow…

“Levin? We moving?” Riana asked, to which Levin replied with a curt “No.”

The head sprung up, revealing a gray cat’s body attached to it. A griffon, Riana’s VI helpfully identified.

Said griffon was also holding what she guessed to be a rudimentary firearm – a long, metal and wooden construct that had a primitive, solid wooden stock at the end – in its talons. A metal barrel, supported by some kind of metal bracing, jutted out from a box-like firing chamber. A trigger protruded, rather prominently, from beneath the stock.

This one appeared to be armored; its chest was covered in plate metal, but its limbs were bare.

It squawked something in its native language, resembling a short burst of sound. Riana’s translator couldn’t decipher the word.

Luna perked up for a moment, her ears swiveling towards the griffon. She was obviously in deep thought.

Armor hovered protectively over his sister. No words were exchanged, but none were needed – everyone present could see what he meant in his stance. Twilight herself braced herself against the floor of the shuttle, readying her horn.

The griffon ignored them, and focused on Luna, looking at her whilst pointing its free talon towards the mountain range they’d just flown over. “Back! Back! Danger!”
> Chapter 13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 13

--

No, not a murderer. Thank you, Shepard. – Dr Mordin Solus, 2185 CE

--

“Excuse me?” Luna said, raising an eyebrow. “This is a –"

The griffon cut her off. “Back! Too much danger!”

“What is going on?” Riana asked, whilst Sev shifted in his seat and gripped his weapon tighter.

The griffon looked at her for a moment, puzzled, and then muttered in its native language: “Why doesn’t anyone speak Bird?” The voice was quite deep  – its owner, probably a male.

To her surprise, this language was extremely similar to the turian dialect of Talin; a pre-spaceflight version, dating back to about 1600 CE. Her translator identified it as the best match, and switched to that channel.

“I do,” she replied, hoping that she didn’t suddenly make a faux pas by doing so.

The griffon stared at her. “I did not know that a” – he squawked, clearly a word that the translator did not identify – “golem could speak.” 

“She is not golem,” Luna said, slowly. Clearly, the pronunciation of the language was tough for a non-avian. “She is from other world.”

Armor and Twilight swapped glances between the griffon, the Princess and Riana. They both felt a bit left out from this, no-doubt exciting, conversation.

Luna coughed a bit. “What is problem?”

The griffon seemed pleased. Probably because he wouldn’t have to butcher the pony language to get his point across, Riana thought.

“Madness has spread, again. For your own safety, you have to go,” he said.

“How bad is it?” Riana asked.

“Very. I’m afraid I don’t know all the specifics. The townsfolk… they are not alive, yet not dead. I fear for your safety. Please go!”

Sev clapped his hands onto the massive metal kneepads of his armor. “See! Husks! Get the fuck out of here while we can!”

“And I thought you were the tough one,” Luna commented drily as she looked at him. “You’re not excited about the fighting, for once?”

Sev gave her the finger.

Electing to ignore their bickering, Riana turned towards the griffon, who had disappeared by now. “Shit!”

Against her better instincts, she braced herself on against the handholds placed around the shuttle’s doorway, and glanced out and around.

The griffon was in the process of flying downwards, and in the distance she could see a red, smoking object shooting upwards, trailing a column of red smoke. A flare. Closer to the town, the red smoke mixed with black that rose from the ruins of burning buildings, like a demonic fog.

“Red flare from town,” Riana said in English, and frowned. That had to mean a signal. But what? It could be a ‘go away’ or a ‘need help’, and she wasn’t sure what the consequences were if she disobeyed them.

Luna’s eyebrows rose, and then she shut her eyes as her mouth set into a grim line. “Help signal.”

Sev clenched a fist. “No. We’re not going down there.”

Luna turned her head to face him. “We have to. Refusing help has major diplomatic repercussions. Combined with the events of the past week, and war is a possibility.”

“Then there really is no choice. Stop the war before it happens,” Levin said.

“There’s no need to play hero anymore, Levin!” Sev roared. “Whatever happened in the past is the past! Save yourself while you can!”

There was an awkward, pregnant pause.

“I… no, I can’t. I want to do this. I have to do this.” Levin’s static-filled sigh bathed the cargo hold in harsh noise, and all the ponies winced. “I’m sorry.”

With that, he directed the shuttle towards the origin of the flare.

Sev sighed, and slumped against the shuttle’s side, defeated. Fools, the lot of them. All bets were off with the Reapers. With a growl, he punched the side of the shuttle, eliciting a horrid bang from the durasteel. Riana and all the ponies jumped in their respective places, but he didn’t care.

Wasn’t this why I became an independent? To choose what I wanted to do with my life? The turians took that away with the genophage. The Reapers took that away with the war for survival. And now, my employers…

At least the fighting is fun.

You’re in this now, and you can’t do anything about it. So just ride it out. Think encouraging thoughts.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, and checked his weapons. Claymore, loaded. Striker, working. Knife, sharp.

He caught Armor looking at his knife oddly, but he couldn’t be bothered to tell him to piss off. So, he just ignored the pony.

Soon, the tops of the town’s housing came into view; or, what remained of them, did. What used to be stone and wood had now turned into burning rubble; thick black smoke poured out from what had used to be rooms and living areas, and he was pretty sure he could spot patches of blood and gore splattered on the sides of the buildings that hadn’t been charred beyond recognition.

Levin took a deep breath as he beheld the scene of destruction in front of the shuttle’s viewport. Some things hit close to home, and he found himself with a lump in his throat, watching the once-glorious buildings crumble into piles of misshapen stone.

This was Macedon, once.

Once. We rebuilt. Everything will be fine.

Not everyone.

The shuttle’s whine got more and more pronounced as it skimmed closer and closer towards the ground. Up ahead, Levin could see the encampment closing in on the shuttle, and the ground rushed up to meet them –

With an undignified bump, and trawling a ditch of disturbed earth behind it, the shuttle stopped.

Luna and the ponies hopped out first. Sev didn’t mind. He didn’t want to be here anyways. Riana didn’t, either. This sort of politics relied on having a grasp of the intricacies between pony-griffon relations; something she didn’t have. The Princess would be a better negotiator, she decided. Nonetheless, she followed the ponies out; just in case.

“I presume that the red flare was a distress signal,” Luna called out, seemingly to the entire camp. “We wish to provide help.”

Riana quickly spotted the griffon from before, who was speaking to another one. The new griffon had a white eagle’s head, complete with two blue feathers that seemed out of place, and a tawny lion’s body that were both streaked with soot. He or she was also armored with plate armor, and on his or her back hung another long rifle-like weapon, seemingly identical to the one the gray griffon was carrying. Amber eyes glared out beneath a feathery crown, and purple coloring marked the area around them. Judging by the trim on the chest-plate, this new griffon was a higher officer.

He or she dismissed the griffon from before with a quick nod, and went to face the arriving ponies and the aliens.

Sev and Levin had unbuckled themselves by now, and both of them slowly exited the shuttle, unwilling to leave the perceived sanctuary – though for quite different reasons.

“Lieutenant Gilda sak Tallis,” she said, wearily – her high voice identified her as a female – and she fluttered her wings absently, turning her head around to examine all of the newcomers. Twilight gasped, all of a sudden, as Levin did – apparently pleasantly surprised that she spoke his language.

This was not the bully that Twilight had seen at Pinkie’s party. This was definitely not her. It could not be her.

“Princess Luna,” Luna said, nodding towards Gilda.

“The Exile? We were not aware of your return,” Gilda said in surprise, but soon that soon faded as a loud bang sounded from the corner of the camp. “We don’t have much time, so I’ll make it quick. Townsfolk have gone mad, and so have the nearby animals. We were sent to put them down – a platoon.”

She was cut off by the triple percussion of shots, and a shout of “Enemy down!”

Gilda shook her head, and breathed in deeply. “Everyone uncooperative, orders to kill. The madness cannot spread.”

She looked like she had all the fight knocked out of her, Twilight thought, as she ran her eyes over the griffon’s slouching stature, labored breathing and constant examination of her surroundings. Even the sudden, sharp bursts of sound didn’t faze her. 

Sev glanced over at Levin. The turian was still – almost eerily so, as if he’d suddenly turned into a statue. He knew, then, exactly what Levin was thinking of. Riana’s earlier behavior had all but confirmed it, and this was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak.

“How long have you been here?” Riana asked. If they hadn’t been attacked now, there was a chance – a slim one – that these griffons weren’t indoctrinated. Still, indoctrination was known to be an insidious weapon of the Reapers – one that would reveal itself when it was too late to stop.

“One week, give or take,” Gilda replied, all semblance of formality lost. “Why? And who are you?”

“I’ve seen something like this before,” Riana said, and then introduced herself and her two alien companions. Gilda’s eyes got bigger and bigger as Riana continued to explain the theory of indoctrination – it appeared that she was deep in shock, if not thought.

When Riana stopped talking, a single shot punctuated the pause that followed.

“So it’s not a” – she squawked – “weapon,” she mused, ignoring the looks of outrage that formed on Armor and Twilight’s faces. “Alright.” She sighed. “If what you say is true, then this area cannot be settled. Ever.”

Everyone knew that the squawk had meant ‘pony’ once Armor’s face flushed red.

Riana nodded. “I’m afraid so, unless the Reaper construct is destroyed. If you’ve been here for a week; have you heard any buzzing in your ears during the time? At all?”

Gilda narrowed her eyes, and shook her head. “No.”

Riana sighed, relieved. That meant that any indoctrinating artifact here had been destroyed, or at the very least, deactivated – symptoms would have manifested for sure in that time period. Unless Gilda was lying, but she didn’t seem to be…

“If you tell the truth, that means you will be safe. There will be no more indoctrination.  If not…” Riana let the word hang in the air for a second, “then you should all start flying away, lest you become like the townsfolk.”

Gilda seemed affronted at the accusation of lying – just like a turian would – but she turned the affront into a tired smirk. “Good warning, I suppose. I’d have argued, but you seem to know what you’re talking about.”

That smirk fell off her face as she muttered, “All this… this is so much more than what I thought. I’m out of my league, here.”

Two shots rang out, so close to one another that they seemed to be the same sound.

“But this will have to do,” she sighed, and sat down upon the grass. Usually, she’d have died before showing weakness to a pony who’d seen her humiliated – but right now, ordered to kill a town of her own people, she just couldn’t be bothered to hide how she felt anymore. Hell, she didn’t even care. This was what made her a good leader, she felt – honesty with one’s feelings. That had been her mistake at the reunion with Dash, during her time on leave. Overconfidence. A desire to impress, to be respected and be accepted. Once she’d calmed down, and looked at what had happened in that cold way the military taught you to look at things –the ruthless calculus – she found her problem. And she was a griffon. She didn’t miss a chance to improve herself.

Eh, she should have known that she’d never be fully accepted in a country with the overwhelming majority population being ponies. The stares, the whispers, would follow her until the edge of the sea…

She looked to the sky. The beautiful sky. It would be so easy just to fly off, abandon her duties, desert – but she couldn’t do that. Duty called. Her people needed her. All for one, and one for all. That was the griffon way.

In that instant, Twilight noted, Gilda looked so much older. It had only been what, one year? Two?

“Damn it!” Gilda shouted, seemingly to herself. Truth was, she was speaking to herself. Why did she get these orders? Because no one else wanted them. So they pushed them onto you.

She looked towards the ponies. The exiled princess. The faithful student. The guard out-of-armor.

The ruthless calculus kicked in. Magic-users, all of them were. That meant magic barriers – they’d be most useful as support units, providing the griffon sikskysher with protection against the townsfolk’s shots.

Even now, the distant cracks and pops of gunfire seemed as loud as they were, one week ago.

Ignoring the Princess, the ponies and the aliens, she went over to the top of one of the hasty barricades they’d set up. Piles of animal bodies lay, rotting, at the far side of the rubble pile. Over the barricade, she could see the bodies of griffons, carrying weapons in their talons – the townsfolk – lying in pools of their own blood. She punched the barricade, sending a jolt of pain up her arms. She didn’t care. What she was going to do would hurt her much, much more.

“We’re purging the town,” she said, still looking outwards. If any one of the ponies wanted to stab her in the back, then and there, so be it. The sun would set soon, and that meant the enemy fire would stop, to be replaced by animal attacks.

“Purge? As in, kill every griffon?” Twilight gasped, and her disobedient mind tried to construct a mental image. The streets, filled with the bodies of the dead, running red with blood; the stench of the scene, given a structure by the scent of burnt manticore; and Gilda’s talons, covered in the blood of her people…

Twilight’s face went green, and she shook her head as fast as she could, trying to force the images out. It didn’t work. “There has to be another way!”

This time, it was Levin’s turn to speak. “I’m afraid not,” he said dully, shaking the kinks out of his joints. “This… this is for the best. For them, and for the griffons.”

“There has to be another way…” Twilight said, before sitting down onto the soft, green grass that suddenly didn’t feel as welcoming anymore. The blades of grass seemed to poke into her, like small knives, and she shifted, trying to find the most comfortable position. “I won’t help you kill.”

Gilda sighed, and then smirked. “Then help the soldiers. Shield them from enemy fire, get them water and food and ammo. Tartarus knows they could use a break.”

Even her smirk, her arrogant mask, was fraying at the edges with exhaustion. Twilight could see that. The Princess of the Sun, her mentor, tended to wear a similar mask, but Twilight had become very adept at spotting flaws in it.

Gilda flew up to a rooftop, going out of sight for a moment. A second later, a loud bang sounded from her location, and a cloud of white smoke rose in a deceptively cute puff.

Luna blinked, twice. “This has to be done,” she said, and flew up to meet with Gilda.

Sev sighed, and put his theory to the test. Now or never. “So, hastatim, just like old times?”

Levin recoiled, jerking back from his alien teammate. “What – how – I – how did you know?” Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

Twilight and Armor had heard the translated phrase of ‘death squad’, and the both of them also jumped back from the turian. The concept of death squads didn’t exist in the pony society, but the connotations of the words weren’t pleasant.

Near them, Riana mentally kicked herself at how blunt the krogan was. She should have told him that she knew of his secret – she’d be able to break it to him better – but now, all she could do was damage control.

“Things added up,” Sev said, as if he was discussing the weather. “You behavior, your responses… but that’s not the point.”

“So what is?” Levin snapped, tersely. His fingers danced, and devoid of any surface to meet them, it was like he was trying to grasp at air, and noticing that, he clenched them into fists.

“Can you do this? If not, you’d better go back to the shuttle, and skip the killing. You’d just get in the way,” Sev said calmly. He gestured over the griffons hiding behind the barricades, taking potshots at any sign of movement they could see. Judging by how much lead they were putting in the air, there was a lot.

“You’re going?” Riana asked, trying to push the image of Levin’s tortured expression out of her mind. The poor, poor guy. “You didn’t even want to be here.”

“New info,” Sev said, and shrugged. “Besides, dead men don’t need their stuff, you know?” He looked pointedly at the Avenger Levin carried; a lightweight, outdated civilian model that was very popular in the 2160s. This one was upgraded with black market military parts. “I’m pretty sure you carry that M-8 only for sentimental reasons. The new versions have much better stopping power.”

Levin growled at this. “This is all that remains of the family. Their bodies were buried in a mass grave, names stricken from record. They didn't, and they still don’t, deserve that.”

Sev raised a brow ridge beneath the helmet. “Oh, I don’t know. You were the one who killed them. You must have felt –"

Levin darted forwards, and rearing back, smashed a fist into the left side of the krogan’s chin. He ignored everything else – the gasps of the ponies as they discovered his secret sin, Riana’s own little inhale of air, the massive bulk of the krogan in front of him – as he went for the blow. It was like punching a metal wall.

Sev slammed a massive forearm into the turian’s torso, sending him back. Levin had the quick reflexes to move back with the blow, but the hit still left him winded, and he stumbled a step – a fatal mistake – closer to the ponies, who scrambled out of his way in fear. On instinct, he drew his rifle.

Sev didn’t act on that mistake, but he did draw his shotgun once he saw Levin reach around his back. The two weapons unfolded themselves and settled into their owners’ arms at the same time, and the two men stared one another down.

Sev regarded Levin with a cold impassivity. His Claymore was decades ahead of that puny Avenger – literally – and his armor’s shielding outclassed the turian’s. “Accept it. It’s what you did, and you can’t change that.”

“You’re lying. You are,” Levin said, his voice cracking. He knew it wasn’t true, and his rifle shook, just like his talons. He squeezed his eyes closer together, trying to prevent the tears from escaping down his carapace.

“Really? Then say it. Say: ‘I didn’t kill the family that last owned this rifle’.”

“I, I,” Levin started, as gripped the rifle tighter and tighter, until he was sure that knuckles were white beneath the metallic carapace. Shit. Lying… lying. He couldn’t lie. He was a turian. He owned every decision he made, good or ill. Including this one. And he was going to accept the consequences of his actions: for better, or for worse. “Fuck!”

He cast down the rifle, and collapsed to his knees. The rifle lay in front of his kneecaps, and for a moment he remembered how the previous owner of the rifle had looked as Levin had shot him full of holes. He must look the same right now, to Sev. Hah. Levin couldn’t find the strength to bother getting up – if Sev decided to blow his head off with a shotgun blast, then so be it.

The krogan re-folded the shotgun, but kept it in his hand, and made a sound approximating a grunt and a growl. Levin didn’t even bother looking up as the shotgun made a bleeping sound once it had compacted.

“Pick your weapon up, turian,” Sev said, emotionlessly. “Wait in the shuttle.”

Levin laughed emptily. “I don’t follow orders anymore. Not military.” He punched the ground, and a tiny shockwave of earth blasted out from the center of the impact. “Not anymore.”

Riana ran over and put a hand under the crook of his shoulder. Levin tensed, making to push her away – but as his gauntlet touched her neck, he decided against it, and put an arm around her shoulder as she helped him up.

As they walked to the shuttle, Sev could hear her whispering to him. He didn’t respond. The rifle lay where Levin had thrown it downwards, in the dirt. He picked it up. Pretty hefty history for such a lightweight rifle.

Gilda sat alongside Luna, atop the building’s rooftop, as they watched the scene unfold. She shook her head, as sorrow threatened to overwhelm her resolve. That’s going to be me.

-&-

Night fell upon the Valley of Death.

Luna strained as she struggled to turn the planet – this was much easier back in the palace, thanks to the magical amplifier that was situated in the mountain that Canterlot was built on.

She strained against her own nervous system, ignoring the jolts of pain shooting through her entire body, as she cast a complex spell on the planet. Somehow, that would make it rotate faster. Some magicians had found out about a magical theory called ‘angular momentum’, and others had linked it to moving raw-magic currents inside the planet, but she’d lost her concentration after about ten seconds of reading about complex magical calculations.

She couldn’t. She couldn’t turn the planet.

She slumped back onto the rooftop of the building, spent; sweat rolled off her in waves, and for a moment she felt as if she had been submerged under the sea. Gasping for air, she rolled over onto her back, and looked at the griffon next to her.

Gilda sat across from her, looking down the sights of her rifle into the killing fields. “Tough job, eh?”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “Raising the moon is difficult. I wager you cannot do it.”

“Hmm.” Gilda’s sensitive eyes spotted a whisper of movement, and she nudged the barrel of her gun very slightly to the right, so that the crosshairs landed upon the entrance of an alleyway. “Griffons are naturally magically resistant, so of course I can’t.”

Luna rolled her eyes, and she felt the strain lessen up all of a sudden. No doubt her sister had found out that the night was a bit late, and decided to solve the problem herself. She couldn’t summon any feelings of annoyance, though, and when she consciously tried, the feeling of her nerves being set on fire helped to move her mind onto more pressing matters.

Bang. A white puff erupted out of the end of Gilda’s gun, dispersing slowly like a cloud of fog, as she slotted yet another cylindrical object into her weapon. The griffon herself shook her head. “That’s another one.”

The princess rolled back onto her feet, and surveyed Gilda’s handiwork. “What a waste.”

Gilda laughed humorlessly. “You don’t say?”

Luna turned her head back to face her griffon companion. “I just did.”

“It’s a turn of phrase. Never mind. We’ll be shooting at shadows in this low light.” Gilda strapped the gun across her back, and flexed her wings – the gun didn’t restrict their movement too much. “Rest.”

She launched herself off the roof of the building, and glided towards her tent.

The princess herself stayed up on the rooftop. She’d been born with perfect night-vision, whilst her sister could resist the glare of the sun since the day of her birth. Looking down at the bodies of the fallen, she stomped a hoof.

What if that happened in Equestria? What would she do? What would her sister do?

If they didn’t know that it was the fault of this ‘indoctrination’ as the aliens called it; what then? An incurable disease would have had the same effect.

Would she be strong enough to order a wholesale killing, like the griffins? Would her sister?

Her sister had the strength to lock her away. At the time, she’d thought that the stasis would be permanent – everyone had thought so – but somepony, or someone, had ‘done the mathematics’, so to speak, and found out that there was a deep-rooted flaw in the Elements' stasis spell.

Could her sister lock the infected away? The Elements of Harmony were still a black box – everypony knew what they did, but not how. That was still one of the last great mysteries of this world, and her sister didn’t really want a lot of ponies around those artifacts – the risk of theft or sabotage remained too high.

Quarantine, maybe? Like how the griffons had piled rubble across the entrances of the town, to keep the indoctrinated in. That would just be the same as putting them in stasis – for the rest of the pony population, at least – but inside, the suffering would just starve to death. It was still a death sentence – the only saving grace was that nopony outside had to actively kill. Some relief for the unlucky insane.

Would her sister kill the ponies herself? She thought of them as her responsibility – if they were suffering, and she could not cure them, would she not seek to end their suffering using any means possible?

Maybe the griffons were right. Maybe death was sometimes the most peaceful path, ironic as it seemed.

Shaking her head and sighing, Luna started to follow the griffon back to the encampment.

-&-

The asari and the turian sat side by side in the relative peace of the shuttle’s cargo hold.

“You could have told me, you know,” Riana said quietly, still with her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “You didn’t need to torture yourself. I said I would listen.”

Levin thought of lying – the thought passed his mind for but a second – but what was the point? She knew. Everyone knew. “I was afraid that I would push you away.”

A hint of a smile graced her features. “So you kept it to yourself. Suffered, but kept silent.” She paused, trying to find the right words. “You don’t have to, not anymore.” She gulped down the lump in her throat. “I knew, anyways.”

“What?”

“I figured it out,” she said, putting her hand over the talon on his knee. “And I’m still talking to you. Let it – let it out.”

Levin shook his head. He was almost angry that she hadn’t told him. Almost. How would he have reacted? Would he have done the same? Had an emotional breakdown?

Perhaps.

He chuckled quietly. “I figured it was my punishment, you know? For doing what I did. I thought the hastatim were the line between order and anarchy. I thought that they were the ones who had the guts to do what had to be done.”

He paused for a while, and Riana squeezed his talon, letting him take as much time as possible.

“Maybe. But I wasn’t their material. Not by a long shot.”

Riana sighed, and held his talon in her hands. “That means that you’re a good man at heart.”

He chuckled again. “We’ll see.”

There was the sound of a soft impact against the ground, and the two rose to see the griffon from before, as he waited awkwardly with Levin’s folded rifle in his hands. “The other one told me –"

“I know,” Levin said, smiling despite a formless ache deep in his chest. “Thanks.”

The griffon scratched the back of his head. “Erm, no problem. I have to go.”

“So, what now?” Riana asked, letting go of his talons. “Do you want to continue with the salvage?”

Levin nodded, and stood up, waiting as Riana did the same. “You know, I started this business to get away from my past. Try to run, go somewhere where no one knows me. Ironic thing is, the furthest I go, the closer it hits to home.”

“And it was also there that you managed to find yourself. To find your own path. To atone.”

Riana’s serene voice helped to calm him down, and Levin picked up the gun and slowly strapped it onto its place on his back. “You could be an awesome psychologist.”

She giggled. “I don’t have the degree. But, maybe one day.”

-&-

Sev faced the ponies. The two siblings sat as far away from him as possible, and also kept a far distance from any griffons, who did the same.

They were both content to keep to themselves. Fine for him.

The griffon watch at the barricades switched; most likely, a new set of guards for the night watch. This meant that he had the perfect chance to go into the town proper.

He acted on that opportunity.

As he neared the largest barricade, a griffon stopped him – her relatively long eyelashes gave her gender away. She had a mottled gray falcon’s head, and a tawny lion’s body, yet she also wore a blue feather on her head. Likely a sign of rank. She held up a talon, and Sev bristled unconsciously at the act.

“You’re on your own out there,” she said, looking at him out of the corner of one eye. The other eye was still scanning the road ahead of the barricade. “Get into trouble, we’re not coming for you.”

“I know,” Sev rumbled, unfolding his shotgun.

The griffon put her talon back onto the body of her rifle. “Go get them.”

Sev put a foot in the barricade, and pushed upwards, vaulting over the rubble. He didn’t even glance back.

Soon enough, the barricade faded into the darkness behind him, and all he could see of the encampment were the spots of light that were the torches, placed behind each barricade.

His helmet VI lit up nearby heat signatures in red squares – and there were a lot. The most opulent building, near the town center, was also the one with the most enemies inside. Double the fun.

This particular building had been once used as a town hall, or convention center, or marketplace – somewhere people gathered, although for what reason he could not tell. The banners lay on the floor in tatters, strips of cloth that were dyed red by the blood pooling on the floor.

The inner door was of a wooden, old, human design – there was what looked like a deadbolt lock that was supposed to hold the door in place. Supposed to, because it was now riddled with holes, and the door swung gently in the slight breeze.

Sev ripped the door off its hinges, and chucked it to the corner. Better than have it hang around in the air and obscure his vision.

The action elicited a sickening crunch from the wooden doorway, and through the thermal sensors, he could tell that there were warm bodies moving towards him.

He scanned the inner room. The outer area was a common room, that had been completely devoid of any materials. The desk at the corner had been looted clean, and even the chairs and tables were missing. The inner room, however, was trashed.

A bisected table lay in front of him. Both halves appeared to have been joined at the center, once upon a time; but now, it was like a battering ram had hit it. Beyond that, several cabinets lay face down on the floor, and paper files from their insides littered the surrounding area.

A griffon body lay, slumped against the back wall of the room. He was still clutching a weapon in his dead hands – gone down like a true soldier. Sev checked the body over. The griffon had been some official, judging by the fabric human-style tie he wore - and the shiny rings on his talons. Sev relieved him of those.

He looked like he’d died of about twenty bullet wounds – they’d turned the white feathers on his head into red, and his gray body was littered with splotches of black.

Definitely dead.

The heat signatures were closing in; about two of them. If the townsfolk were insane, then they would have started attacking one another – but it was like they were working in a team. Or maybe, it was the animals…

The room’s side staircase suddenly creaked.

Sev sighed. The two creatures were still approaching, but at a slower rate. Well, too slow. His shotgun boomed once, and the two heat signatures stopped moving of their own accord.

They still tumbled down the staircase like bags of hay, though.

Animals. Well, they sure looked like them. Their heads had seemingly dissolved into a red pool , and their leg sections hadn’t fared much better. They resembled minced meat more than body parts.

Well, that still meant that they wouldn’t be carrying any sort of valuables.

It was going to be a long night.

-&-

Twilight jumped as yet another loud bang erupted from one of the barricades. The griffon sikskysher, his longer-barreled weapon distinguishing him from the rest, ducked back down to reload, and caught her eye with a wave of his talon. “Hey! Pony! Need bullets!”

Twilight paused, not knowing what to do. Would giving the griffon more ammunition make her an accomplice to murder? Would this count as murder? She didn’t want anything to do with that. It was a can of worms. But she did want to help. Friends did that for one another. “Er…”

Armor squared off against the griffon. “Get it yourself.”

The griffon rolled his eyes, and clacked something in his native language. It didn’t sound pretty.  He scooted quickly past the ponies, towards one of the tents, and was swallowed by the canvas folds.

“So much for friendship, huh?” the griffon said, emerging from the tent whilst he lugged a heavy crate behind him.

Twilight laughed guiltily, and helped the box along with her magic.

The griffon gave her a small smirk. “Cheers, lass.”

“Her name is Twilight Sparkle,” Armor growled, from his sister’s side. “Don’t you –"

“Guard, shut up or help.” And with that, the sikskysher faced the road again, waiting for another target of opportunity.

Armor’s face flushed an angry red. “Did you just –"

“Yes, I did,” the griffon sighed, still looking down the sights of his rifle. “And I mean it. You’re worse than useless if you keep makin’ noise.”

“I’m the Captain –"

“Not here, you’re not. Go back to Equestria if you wanna order ponies around. Cheers.”

Armor made a deep, menacing growl that the griffon ignored. “You’re going to hear from your superior about this.”

“Hmm.” The griffon adjusted his position slightly, shifting to the left. A second later, he clacked his beak twice. “Not yet.” One of the other griffons on the barricade, a female of small build, smirked as well.

“Give ‘em hell,” the male said, to the female. She saluted, quickly.

He detached himself from the cover of the barricade, and slinked around to another one.

Twilight watched as the griffons on the barricades worked like a well-oiled machine, helping one another out, smiling and chirping to one another, despite the grim atmosphere. It was like they were trying to cover the horror of what they were actually doing with jokes and banter. Was that what Twilight herself did? When they journeyed into the Everfree, on that fateful day, to defeat Nightmare Moon, she distinctly remembered the sound of Pinkie’s raucous laughter helping the whole group to put one hoof in front of the other. Without that encouragement, they would have fallen back. She was certain of that.

Perhaps it was a coping mechanism. It had to be. They wouldn’t just laugh while they killed their own people. Would they?

The griffons were a savage race, the history books said. They’d separated into separate clans, once upon a time, but reunited under a single banner around the same time that the separate pony clans had. Though, unlike the ponies, their reunification was bloody and vicious, as some clans preferred their own independence.

Twilight had tried to keep an open mind. Gilda was the first griffon she’d ever really gotten the chance to know. She’d seen the griffon ambassador, way back when she was still living in Canterlot, but the old bird had preferred to keep to himself. Gilda’s behavior in Ponyville only confirmed what doubts she had in her mind about the integrity of the griffon race.

But now? Now, she wasn’t so sure.

-&-

Armor trudged off to the lieutenant’s tent. Poking his head inside the folds, he saw Lieutenant sak Tallis running maintenance on her curious, if horrific, weapon.

“What is it, pony?” she said, seemingly unperturbed. The weapon in her hands had been broken into pieces, some large and some small, but Armor got the feeling that it was still capable of fitting back together. Currently, she was rubbing the part where the metal tube met the wooden stopper with a rag, and she showed no sign of stopping.

“The name's Shining Armor. And the issue is, one of your griffon troops is harassing my sister,” Armor replied, his voice still in that low growl. “Stop that happening.”

Gilda raised an eyebrow, and she put down the rag, before snapping the gun back together. “I’ll see.” She took her time to strap it onto her back. The pony was probably exaggerating. Most of the troops here had their prejudices knocked out of them by the fifth day of this mission, and at this point they were looking for all the help they could get; pony, changeling, or otherwise. Hunger, ammunition shortage and the realization of what they were doing, had all contributed to that.

Twilight Sparkle was sitting on the grass, her ears flicking around like butterflies, facing away from them and towards the barricade. She didn’t seem like that smart geek from before, so confident of her own Princess and friendship’s ability to solve any problem. Ha. Friendship. Kind of ironic, considering that friendship had been the source of the problem between her and Dash at that reunion. She’d chosen that pink moron over her old partner. Shame. Well, her loss.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Gilda started, speaking slowly and monotonously. The guard had probably overreacted – when you were surrounded by people you didn’t know, you tended to be more edgy and irritable – and she would know. “What has happened here?”

The pony jumped slightly, clearly not having heard the two creatures approaching through the noise of gunfire. “Er… nothing. Somegriffon wanted me to give him bullets, but I didn’t, so… he went and took it himself. I felt bad, so I helped him, and he thanked me. I think.”

“He called her a ‘lass’,” the guard said angrily. “No one calls my sister ‘lass’.”

Gilda groaned, and faced the guard. “This looks like a private argument. Go deal with it yourself.” She began to stalk back towards her own tent. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“What if I told you that he was insubordinate?” the guard said, suddenly, and Gilda turned around to face him again.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Armor smiled grimly. “He told me that he didn’t care about your opinion of him. That he didn’t care if you spoke badly of him.”

Gilda’s eyes widened, before she settled into a low glare. Don’t jump to conclusions. There may be ulterior motives. Trust no one. “Describe the one that was insubordinate.”

“Male griffon, gray head. Long gun –"

Ah. So it was one of the sikskysher. Gilda rolled her eyes, and slapped her face with a free talon. “He doesn’t answer to me. He is one of the sikskysher.”

Twilight had been watching this whole exchange with a look of dread, but upon hearing the odd word, her ears perked up. “The what?”

Her brother visibly deflated, stomping a hoof on the ground. “The closest pony analogy is that he’s part of the griffon Royal Guard.”

“Special forces, to be precise,” Gilda said, absentmindedly eying each of the barricades. “I’m regular army, so he’s not under me.” Rubbing the bridge of her beak with one of her talons, she sighed. “Quit bothering me. I have enough on my plate as it is.”

She turned around and left.

A deep boom reverberated throughout the valley, and all the griffons exchanged worried glances. In particular, one mottled gray griffon wearing a dyed blue feather shook her head.
> Chapter 14
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 14

-- 

I’ll fight and win this war without compromising the soul of our species. – Commander Shepard, 2185 CE

--

“We’re almost out of ammo. But we have to continue the mission, which means that we’ll have to enter the town proper.”

Gilda paused, looking out over her platoon of troops. Her responsibility. Her children, almost. Every one of them looked up at her for guidance. She couldn’t fail them.

“It’ll be tough. Close quarters fighting, bloody, vicious. I won’t lie. Never before have we faced an enemy such as this. They will show us no mercy.”

She paused.

“So we shall show them no quarter.”

She stood on her hind legs and spread her arms, as if she wanted to encompass her entire platoon in them. “But take heart. Look around you. You’re not in this fight alone. We face our enemy together, and together we will defeat them.”

Gilda paused again as she dropped back onto all fours. “Dismissed. Except for Anya.”

The mottled grey griffon with the blue feather cocked her head. “Yes, ma’am.” She remained where she was, whilst the others went back to their tents to recover from the night watch, or to the barricades to stand guard.

Luna stood alongside Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor. All three of them looked haggard – tired, and haunted, as if they’d stayed up all night. They probably had, Gilda reflected. They weren’t used to the sound of gunfire. She’d been able to sleep soundly only after the third night here.

The aliens stood in another group – well, ‘group’ was a bit generous. The slimmer ones, Riana and Levin, stood together, side by side – but the hulk stood at least a meter away. Gilda could see the traces of blood that had dried on his armor or shell; a souvenir of his late-night excursion. He’d tried to wash it off, under the prodding of his teammates, but it hadn’t worked as well as they’d liked. Or as well as she'd liked. Gilda had guessed that he’d been looting the town. She narrowed her eyes at this defiling of the dead, but without proof, she couldn’t really do anything. Not to mention, Sev looked like he was capable of snapping her spine in half.

Gilda motioned for Anya to follow her, and she ambled up to the ponies and aliens. “Clearing buildings,” she said, stopping once she that she was close enough. “Anya and I will lead a squad through the buildings closest to the barricades. If you ponies or aliens can help us, great. If not…” She sighed. “We’ll still do it. But the help would definitely come in useful.”

Luna stepped forwards. “I will help.” Twilight and Armor looked at her in horror, and their jaws dropped even further as Sev stepped forwards as well.

Armor coughed a bit. “Princess, are you sure?”

Luna nodded solemnly. “It has to be done.”

Levin shook his head and stepped backwards. “I’d rather not. I’ve done enough of this in my old days. I’m sorry.”

Twilight and Armor followed Levin’s lead, whilst Riana stayed in her position, silent.

Gilda inhaled deeply, and then breathed out slowly. Two out of six. Not bad, considering that they were ponies. It was better than zero, in any case.

Riana suddenly put her hands in her pockets. “How about the non-combatants tend to the wounded? We can help that way.”

Armor nodded. He could handle bloody injuries. It was in the Royal Guard’s job description.

Twilight, however, looked a lot sicker about the prospect, but she nodded as well. She didn’t want to sit by whilst other ponies – or in this case, griffons – suffered.

Gilda clawed at the ground as she spoke. “I suppose. Don’t know how much you know about griffon anatomy, though.”

“They have some chemical that can seal wounds,” Luna said, putting a hoof to her chin. “My sister got some after he” – she flicked her horn at Sev – “injured her.”

Gilda blinked twice. “Wow. That is some power. Good to have you on our side,” she said to the krogan. His response was merely a grunt. “Right. Me and Anya will be in the squad, doing most of the killing itself. I know ponies” – she looked at Luna – “are squeamish about it, so to minimize any deadly mistakes or hesitation, we’ll do it.”

She paused, huffing. Even talking about this was tough. “Princess, you can project a magic barrier around the group. Sev, you will assist in the killing.”

“I can go solo,” the krogan rumbled. “But I’m too heavy to go higher than the ground floor. That’ll be up to you.”

Gilda nodded. That would definitely speed things up. And she wouldn’t have to kill as many citizens by her own claws.

The quicker we finish, the better.

“Standard procedure is for 5 griffons to do a total clear, but this isn’t standard at all, so we’ll have to do,” Gilda said, cracking open her weapon to check its innards just one more time. She couldn’t afford to see it fail in close-quarters fighting. Her life literally depended on it.

The two griffons attached bayonets to the ends of their rifles, giving their weapons a spear-like look. Still, that would get the job done.

Gilda led the group of four to the westernmost barricade, one that connected both a hillside and the crumbling walls of a building. “Hans, you’re with us. Clearing,” she said, in her native language.

‘Hans’ perked up, and he took a low position as he crawled away from the barricade. “Very well,” he replied, in that same language. He was that same griffon that had greeted them in the skies above, Luna realized – white head, gray body, and still carrying that same rifle. “One second,” he said, as he fiddled with the bayonet.

The griffon town had been built in a very efficient grid system that made it resemble a rectangular chessboard from above. It was five per row, for thirteen rows, with the last row being closest to the wrecked ship. The closest row of buildings had already been cleared, but the risk of moving deeper into the town had stopped the griffon advance at the first row, relative to the encampment.

“Sev, you take that building,” Gilda said, pointing to the second-westernmost building. “Go all around to the east. Every time you clear a building, tell one of the griffons nearby. They’ll handle the top floor.”

Sev nodded his assent. Usually, he’d rather be caught dead than follow an order, but this one played to his desires. He’d get to take his pick of anything valuable, not to mention getting into fights. Without another word, he moved off into ground floor of the building, and disappeared into the shadowy embrace of its rooms.

Gilda took a deep breath, and narrowed her eyes. This was for Gryphonia. For her griffons. She didn’t want to do it – but she had no choice. “Let’s go.”

-&-

The wounded were only composed of two griffons, each being tended to by another two. One of them, a male grey-black griffon, looked like he’d had his shoulder blasted apart by a bullet – the bone was visible, and the flesh around it had been shredded. He was lying on a blanket, and the only signs that he was alive were his slow, placid breaths and the blood dripping down under his bandages. His friend was pushing on the bandages – providing pressure on the wound, Levin noted – and her talons were covered in blood. She hadn’t even looked up at the newcomers – Levin could see the signs of exhaustion in her slumping posture, and her constantly drooping eyelids. She’d probably been up all night.

The other one was in a better way – he was sleeping soundlessly on his stomach, and it looked like a bullet had gone through one of his wings. It was bandaged heavily, with a wooden splint keeping the wing where the medic wanted.

The fact that the female griffon hadn’t attempted to do a sling suggested two things – that she was incompetent, which wasn’t likely if she was in the military; or that she couldn’t risk it. And that was a problem.

Shoulder wounds could be crippling, and Levin knew that even a best-case scenario could leave the male unable to use his shoulder for life. He’d need state of the art medical attention from the Citadel’s hospitals, not some work from a battlefield medic.

Hell, he didn’t even know if griffons were dextro based or levo based. If he gave the guy the wrong medi-gel, he’d worsen the situation.

But there was no other way.

Levin got to work. He tapped the female on her shoulder, and she jerked up, staring at him. He could still see the tear tracks that lined her white face.

He uncapped a medi-gel spray, and with both talons, carefully began to unwind the male’s bandages. Disintegrated shoulder joint. Fractured scapula. Without the gel, the guy wasn’t going to be able to walk, after all of this. If he even survived.

Levin washed out the wound with some water that his omni-tool had sterilized with radiation. The griffon patient groaned and hissed, and the female lapsed into another bout of silent tears as she held the male.

The turian ignored the griffon’s cries. That state of cold, intense focus, the one that seemed to be hardwired into turians, had swallowed him completely. Nothing, save for death, was going to deter him from his task. One second was all it took for you to die, or worse – for someone else to die. To her credit, the female had tried her best to put his bones back in the approximate location, but it’d need more than a spray of medi-gel to cure this injury.

He plucked out the heavy bullet, still lodged near the end of the humerus – one of those pre-spaceflight era slugs, a detached part of him realized – and flicked it to the side. Someone jumped back out of the way to avoid getting hit. Or somepony. Didn’t matter.

The blood flowed more freely now, in spurts, and he realized that an artery had been punctured. One more complication. He’d have to move quick, then. A short, sharp blast of medi-gel solved that quickly, and the chemicals instantly promoted a blood clot.

A light spray of medi-gel to the whole wound, and it was disinfected. The griffon sighed once, and clacked his beak steadily. Levin assumed that was from the anesthetics. He couldn’t do anything about the bones, though. Keeping the area immobilized would lead to the quickest recovery – but that entailed a sling. The griffon was swimming in meds, so he didn’t react when Levin put his forearm parallel to his shoulders as gently as he could, and kept it in place with a sling made from the bloody bandages.

“Thank you. Please, take care of him,” the female griffon said, and clacked her beak, wiping her face with the back of her claw as she did so. She bowed her head momentarily to the turian, before she strutted off out of the tent, picking up her rifle as she went.

Levin looked at the busted joint. He’d done the best he could, with the stuff he had. He had to be pleased with that. Of course, whether he deserved to be pleased rested on the final state of the patient.

He looked down at his own talons. They were still covered in blood. Red blood. At least it wasn’t turian blue.

He could see that Riana was tending to the other wounded soldier. That one hadn’t needed a lot of help, but at least the soldier on duty tending to him could be relieved and sent back to the barricades. Right now, she was scanning his form with her omni-tool. Checking for any symptoms of fever, probably.

Levin put some water and food nearby, next to his patient, and turned around to face the entrance of the tent. The male with the busted shoulder had been placed at the far end of the tent, most protected from the elements – and from there, Levin could see the whole weird ensemble that they were.

Armor looked impressed by his treatment of the wound – clearly, he hadn’t seen anything like it before. Of course he hadn’t. He didn’t even know what medi-gel was.

Twilight, on the other hand, was the one he’d nearly hit with the bullet. Whoops. Hopefully she wasn’t too pissed at him. She seemed to be examining the tiny metal object in great detail, although she tried to stay as far away from it. It was like her eyes were forced to look at the bullet, but her body didn’t want her to approach.

Levin closed his eyes for a moment. He could clean his talons off, a bit later. Blood on his hands. Huh.

He didn’t know how long he was napping for. Doing so with one’s back against the tent was surprisingly easy for him. Must have been all the hastatim training. The first feeling he got as he was still in the midway between sleep and consciousness, though, was the sensation of rocking, as if he was in his mother’s arms. The very same mother that died in the Reaper War. Just one more death amongst billions.

His eyes snapped open, and met another pair of eyes, attached to a purple head with purple hair. Reflexively, he kicked out, but Twilight Sparkle managed to teleport-dash like an asari commando out of harm’s way. Damn. Getting slow in my old age, he thought sarcastically. 

“Don’t ever do that again,” Levin breathed, adrenaline still jittering through him. “I have enough bad dreams as it is.”

Armor placed himself in front of her – an overprotective brother to a naïve sister. Somehow, that actually worked, and Levin had to laugh at the similarities to many of the holovids he’d watched back in the days…

“I just wanted to see how you slept,” Twilight said, scuffing a hoof on the ground. “I’ve never seen you sleep, and so I wanted to see how your race did that, you see, because I was curious” –

Levin cut her off with an outstretched talon. “I sleep just like you do. On your back, side or stomach.”

She peeked out, from behind the white form of her brother. “But – just now – I thought” – she giggled nervously – “you were just resting, weren’t you?”

Levin had no idea how long he’d been ‘resting’ for, and a quick look at his helmet HUD told him he’d been out of commission for the last hour. He shrugged. “Yes. You could say that.”

The medic tent lapsed into a silence that was only broken by the slow and steady breathing of all of its occupants. No one, save for Twilight, wanted to break it. The purple pony had opened her mouth, and then instantly closed it, for the last five minutes, and Levin had made a game out of counting how many times she’d done that. It was better than being bored out of his mind. Still, he’d rather be here than out there. The memories were still too raw.

Armor was content to stay silent and observe, and that suited everyone else just fine.

The griffon with the injured wing yawned, all of a sudden, and then his eyes fell on Riana’s form, sitting next to him. Yelping, he attempted to backpedal away, and his restricted wing flapped up a storm of dirt. Grimacing, he adopted a defensive position – low body stance, wide base, snarling, the works.

Riana held up her two hands. “Whoa. I’m your nurse for today. Your friend went back to the barricades.”

“You… you can speak Bird?”

No shit I can. And it’s bastardized turian. Riana rolled her eyes under her helmet. “Yes.”

“What are you?”

He must’ve been injured the day before. Riana reintroduced herself and her teammates, as well as the three ponies that had accompanied them.

The griffon’s eyes got wider and wider. “Foreigners? Not from this world?” he breathed, and wobbled a bit on his legs. “Am I dead?”

Riana pointed to the bandage wrapped around his wing, as an answer.

The griffon followed her gaze, and flapped the wing experimentally, before wincing. “Bollocks.” He turned his head to examine the two ponies. “Didn’t know ponies had the guts to go to war,” he said in English.

Armor narrowed his eyes. “We’re not all bloodthirsty barbarians, like you.”

The griffon shrugged as best he could. “Says the ones that petrified Discord.”

“That was different,” Twilight countered. “We didn’t kill him – we only petrified him. Stopped him from causing any more chaos.”

The griffon pointed to his own rifle – a longer barreled version, marked with engravings on the metal bodywork. “That’s what we do here. Stop them. The only difference is, our way is permanent.”

“Discord himself was a special case,” Twilight replied, sitting down. “We only did it because we had no other choice.” Like the changeling invasion. Never fought before, and I never want to again. Poor drones.

“No other choice, huh,” the griffon muttered, a smirk playing on his beak. “I guess when the worst comes to worst, war is the only answer.”

He winced as his wing shifted slightly. “I can still shoot, so I guess I’ll be seeing ya all.” Grabbing the rifle from his side, he stumbled out of the tent.

“No infection,” Riana said in English, eliciting a relieved sigh from Levin. “Vitals were just like the others, except for maybe a slightly low blood pressure.”

He nodded, and Twilight’s mouth gaped open again. “How…” she breathed out. Thirty-seven.

-&-

The ground floor of the house was empty, as usual. Picked clean, like the others. In fact, the whole place looked like it had come straight out of an apartment advert, if he ignored the splatters of blood on the walls. 

Stepping through the house, he could spot the holes on the ceilings that led up to the second floor. Griffons had wings, which meant that they didn’t really need staircases. There was a ladder on the outside of the building that linked the two floors, but it looked rickety, and he was sure that it wouldn’t be able to handle his weight.

His boot clacked as he moved about on the stone floor. He didn’t bother to muffle the sound. If anything came to investigate, they would be surprised.

Nope. Next house.

-&-

Gilda breathed in, slowly. She’d be useless if the adrenaline messed with her aim. Alongside her, Luna projected a shield that wrapped the group in a purple glow of magic.

The first floor didn’t have any hostiles in it. She'd expected that. The second would be where the fighting was at. Any griffon that had still had control of themselves would take the higher position, simultaneously giving them a wider angle of aim and protecting them from any predators that couldn’t get there. Any that could were too small to harm a griffon.

Luna nodded, and the three simultaneously launched off the grassy pavement of the town, flapping their wings until they could see through the first floor window.

A griffon looked out at them; beak matted in blood, claws with bits of meat hanging still stuck on, and head-feathers splattered with gore. Feral. What was worse, was that he was feasting upon the body of another griffon. And, he had a gun.

Gilda twitched, sending the end of the barrel jerking sideways until it faced the feral griffon's head, and pulled the trigger. An explosion of light and smoke coincided with her rifle kicking back into her shoulder. Headshot.

Luna flattened her nostrils at the sight, and exhaled a wavering breath. Push through. Be strong. You have to. Cannibalism. This insanity had to be stopped. By any means.

This was the first time she’d gotten responsibility over someone else’s lives. Without her shield, her griffon teammates could have gotten seriously injured.

Was this how my sister felt? To choose me – the griffon over there – over her people – my team?

As one, they moved into the first floor, stepping past the bodies of the two dead. Hans shunted the bodies to a corner with his rear leg, and shuddered.

Mercifully, the remaining parts of the floor were devoid of enemies. To the next building, then.

Anya leant out of one of the windows that faced the barricade, and ducked back as she saw the muzzles of rifles aimed directly at her. “Clear!” she screeched, hiding behind the safety of the wall.

Luna dropped her magic shield, and retched as the smell of blood reached her nostrils. She’d need to get used to it. What better time than now?

Gilda aimed her rifle at the next building, the one that Sev had cleared. Anya followed her lead, but Hans aimed his north.

“Shit,” he chittered. Gilda groaned mentally, but kept her cool. She needed to be cool under fire, or her people were going to die.

“What is it?” she asked, in Bird.

Luna looked on, perturbed, but obviously getting the gist of it as she conjured the shield.

“They must have heard the shot,” Hans squawked, getting a bead on the targets. “I can see several – er, five – approaching from the north. They’re not shooting at one another, though.”

“They’re not? Shit!” Gilda hissed. That meant that they’d have some sort of rudimentary hive-mind intelligence, maybe even a controller somewhere. The aliens had said that all known Reaper tech had been destroyed, and if they were telling the truth, then this had developed out of the blue.

Hell, she’d remembered when they’d first flown into town. Rifle fire from the houses had wounded one griffon, a bright kid by the name of Serd – and they had been forced down to ground to avoid the spray of rounds. There were some insane in the forested area they’d landed in, but even then, in her distressed state, she could clearly remember the townspeople shooting at one another as well as anything else that moved.

At its prime, the town had about 200 griffons. She guessed that 100 had been killed in the madness, by their fellow townsfolk – and they’d taken down about 20 more from the barricades. But that still left 80 insane griffons, out for blood, against her 25-griffon platoon.

Change of plan. “Fire on them!” she said, in her native language, and both Hans and Anya pressed themselves to the walls around the northern-facing windows. 

“Exile, shield!” she yelled in Equestrian.

Anya and Hans exchanged quiet squawks, and Luna summoned a purplish magical field around the bodies of the griffons and herself.

Gilda took aim at the middle griffon, as she rolled out of cover – standard protocol said that each shooter should aim at the enemy in their position – and so, as Hans and Anya simultaneously brought their rifles up to their shoulders and took aim at the westernmost and easternmost griffon respectively, she pulled the trigger.

The hit was messy, by her standards – she’d blown out the griffon’s temple rather than his eye – and so, with a pain-filled screech, the target sailed through the window as both Hans and Anya opened fire.

Gilda launched forwards just as the target landed on the floor, and her bayonet caught him in the neck. With a savage twist, she pulled it out and quickly cut his throat.

The other two griffon targets – males – had flown through another window. Saliva dripped from their beaks as they launched themselves at Gilda’s teammates.

Anya was closer to the feral griffons – she swung her rifle around, and the end of it connected with the griffon’s head, sending his beak sideways into the wall. His body continued to move, and she tried to leap out of the way – but alas, she wasn’t fast enough.

The griffon’s claws raked across her chest, scoring her armor and some of her neck-feathers, but she didn’t even grimace from the pain – rather, she pulled back her rifle, positioned the bayonet in front of the griffon’s chest, and stabbed forwards.

Hans had a better time. He’d been further away, which meant that he’d had time to prepare. He’d danced around the form of his target, stabbing at the throat with the bayonet fastened to his rifle, before using the griffon's falling body as a launch pad to rocket straight towards Anya’s target.

In that moment, Gilda knew the reason why, despite his lack of proficiency in the languages, he had been promoted to sergeant.

Hans had managed to whip out his combat knife whilst he’d vaulted over his own target, and with a hiss he’d sunk the blade deep into the griffon’s neck, severing the jugular, as Anya’s bayonet found its mark. Cutting outwards, the blade shone red for a moment in the sunlight, before Hans whipped the blade around to the back of the target’s neck and jabbed it straight between two vertebrae.

The whole thing had only taken about a fifth of a second. Gilda doubted that even the best sikskysher could manage that.

Wiping the blade clean on the dead griffon, Hans took a couple of deep breaths, and then slipped his knife back into the sheath strapped to his chest.

Anya pulled out her rifle from her target’s chest. She was still breathing heavily, and her target’s blood had stained her grey feathers black. Her own wounds were also starting to sting. “Thanks, Hans,” she squawked, still in shock.

“No problem,” Hans replied nonchalantly. “Lieutenant? Orders?”

Gilda closed her beak, and took in a few breaths of her own to calm her raging heart. “We’ll have to be a lot more careful, now. Anya, get some of the higher ranked soldiers to hold this building – top floor – from the closest barricade. With luck, we’ll get this row done by day’s end, and then we’ll have pushed forwards a bit. Hans, stay with me in case we get more visitors. Oh, and Anya, clean your wounds. We don’t want infection. Dismissed.”

Anya saluted, and flew off, whilst Hans reloaded his rifle and peeked out of the northern windows. A moment later, he shook his head. “None yet.”

As he did so, several deep booms sounded out from Gilda’s right.

-&-

Levin jerked upright as the door to the medic tent flapped open, and a griffon emerged. This had been the one that had stayed behind with the lieutenant – Anya? – and she seemed a bit worse for wear, judging by the slow drip of blood from the area where her feathers and her cat-hair intersected.

Twilight bound over, examining the new arrival. “What happened to you?”

“Slash,” Anya replied. “Need anti-septic.”

Riana went off and got some bandages from a nearby bag, as well as some bottle of liquid. Medi-gel was relatively rare here, since they were the only ones carrying it. Better to use the local meds for non-serious wounds.

Anya winced as her eyes fell upon that bottle. “Better safe than sorry, I suppose,” she said, and lay down with her chest facing the sky.

Riana carefully brushed aside Anya’s chest-feathers to get a closer look at the wounds, and the griffon’s face flushed beneath her feathers. “Little privacy here?” she snapped to Twilight, who backed off, miffed.

Quickly summoning a wad of cloth, Twilight telekinetically flicked it to Riana, who caught it and then poured the liquid onto it. The griffon closed her eyes, readying herself for the pain ahead.

Twilight watched in amazement as the asari dabbed the griffon’s wounds with the wet cloth, eliciting winces of pain. Even though the griffon was so rude, she had guts for taking the punishment like that – Twilight herself would have folded and asked for some form of respite. Battlefield medicine was still basic, at best, and she shuddered to think how dirty the air was, what with all the traces of cordite, gunpowder and blood she could smell…

The griffon got up as Riana finished bandaging her, and retrieved her rifle, slotting a new bullet into it before she slung it over her back. With a nod of thanks, she left the tent – back to the front lines.

Would Twilight herself do that? She had, once. When Nightmare Moon appeared, she’d gotten back up after being flung 20 meters back. But she’d lost her spirit, when Discord had attacked, and she’d lost the help of her friends. She would have lost the spirit to fight Nightmare had it not been for the timely arrival of her newfound friends.

What of Anya? She hadn’t. As a soldier, she was here, risking her life, away from her friends and family back home. She fought regardless; she didn’t quit. No doubt she had friends here as well, but she didn’t need them next to her to fight. She only fought with them in her mind. Twilight guessed that she’d fight through hell and high water to do what she needed to do. Now, that was conviction.

Would she? Would she do anything, anything, for her friends? Her country? Her mentor?

Would she give her own life? Yes, she would. She’d proved that.

Would she… kill?

Twilight wasn’t a competitive pony, but she still felt her spirits sink when she realized that this griffon would sacrifice a lot more than she herself would be willing to, in order to bring peace to her own people.

-&-

Anya fluttered back into the building’s row, with a group of three armored griffins in tow. Gilda nodded, pleased. Luna, meanwhile, was still gazing upon the three bleeding bodies with a mixture of horror and pity. Hans kept silent, as was his usual, still keeping vigil.

Gilda ordered the extra troops to hold the position. “But fall back to the barricades when you feel as if you need to,” she added, and quickly motioned Anya and Hans over to the eastern window.

Anya rested her rifle on the windowsill, and slowly scanned the next building for enemies. None. Still, this had been the plan.

There were two windows per side of each house, correlating to old griffon beliefs and tradition. Gilda personally didn’t believe in those, but right now, she thanked whoever had thought of this idea. They’d be able to breach through the other window, pushing any enemies to the first, which would be covered by Anya’s sights. And Gilda knew: that girl never missed.

Sev had cleared out the bottom floor, she hoped. Still, it was never a stupid idea to double check.

It was time. Motioning to Luna and Hans, Gilda slipped out of the second eastern window, her rifle at the ready. Luna’s shield was still present, but Gilda could tell that it was waning in strength – clearly, the sights of battle hadn’t been welcome to the pony. It was better than nothing, though.

Hovering beside the window, with Hans opposite her, on the other side, the two griffons nodded. And as one, they turned to face the room inside.

Nothing, at first glance.

Gilda took point. Her higher rank obliged her to do so – after all, griffon doctrine said that an officer should not give an order that she would not carry out herself. Hans followed close behind, whilst Luna took the back.

Even though all houses looked identical on the outside, on the inside, it was a different story. The room they’d landed in looked like some sort of bedroom – a trashed bed, a raided closet and an empty bookcase were just some of the highlights.

A hole in the floor led to the ground floor, which appeared empty as well. Still, appearances could be deceiving. The more interesting exit was a door – ajar and swinging loosely – by the side of the room, which Gilda swung open with the end of her gun.

Beyond that door looked to be a hallway, with another door opposite her, and a wall to the west. Gilda threw a glance around the corner. Nothing. The opposite room would be open to Anya’s sniper fire, so she’d leave that to last.

The hallway ended in an open, stone doorway that was currently secured with a portcullis, and that iron gateway looked like it hadn’t moved in months.

Stalking over to the next door on her side, Gilda readied her rifle. As she prepared to breach, Hans covered the other two doors on the opposite wall with his own rifle. Luna stood awkwardly behind him, probably not knowing what to do.

With a solid kick, the door gave way, and Gilda stormed into an empty bathroom.

So it was Anya’s side, then. Gilda made her way back to Hans’s place – he sat at the very end of the hallway, almost with his back to the wall – and opened the door slowly, so as to not get her head blown off by her sniping teammate, before walking into the room with her rifle aimed to the east.

Anya got the unwritten message, and launched off from her sniper perch towards her teammates. Hans greeted her with a simple nod, which she reciprocated, whilst Gilda kept her attention on the door on the far side of this room.

Opening the door, she found nothing.

The house was clear.

-&-

Sev wiped his bloodied bayonet on the white-red chest feathers of the closest griffon body he found.  He could see where the group of five had charged him. They’d appeared from the holes in the roof, from the windows, from everywhere, really. And that had done them no good.

The first three were simple enough to dispatch – shotgun blasts turned them into bloody giblets, but then the clip had reached capacity and the gun wouldn’t fire.

The remaining two acted as if they hadn’t even noticed the booming sound of thunder; they lunged at his back, snarling like feral varren.

Krogan couldn’t really sidestep or dodge, thanks to their weight – so, instead, Sev braced himself for the impact by adopting a solid standing stance.

The hit almost sent him stumbling – two griffons weighed about two-fifths of his own body weight, a substantial fraction – but he recovered, and used the momentum to pull one of them off his right shoulder. The other continued to grapple with him, pecking uselessly at the ceramic-metal alloy of his armor.

Sev crushed the grounded griffon’s ribcage with a stomp, and then turned his whole body around, smearing blood and fluid all over the floor. One of the griffons’ tails whipped out, and he yanked on it, eliciting a screech from the hapless creature as it was flung into the air.

The krogan flicked the tail like a whip, and the griffon slammed into the ground with an almighty crack. Groaning, it tried to pull itself up, but its legs folded beneath it, and Sev ignored it for the moment.

There was still one more griffon hanging on his back. He hadn't noticed the extra weight at first, such was the strength of his adrenaline rush. Sev backed up to a wall, trying to crush the bird-cat between stone and steel. The griffon instinctively jumped up, off his shoulder hump and into the air above him, where Sev slapped it out of the air.

He examined the knife that he pulled out from the scabbard. Tungsten-carbide, modified shotgun bayonet. With it, he lopped off the griffon’s head, and did the same to the one with the broken ribs.

Finished. Another six to the body count.

-&-

It was night by the time Gilda stalked into camp, belly and chest covered in blood. Behind her, Anya and Hans were also in a similar state. Luna looked comparatively clean, but that was only because her dark coat helped to disguise the blotches of red.

Their armor had taken the brunt of the bloodshed; the once-proud Gryphonia red had turned into a mottled brown that resembled rust. And the haunted, tired faces of the group didn’t help them look any more heroic.

They’d taken the first row. Twelve more to go. That was one good thing. The second was that they’d retrieved ammo from some of the empty houses – some griffons had gone insane faster than others, apparently, and neglected to secure them before falling prey to the indoctrination.

Stumbling into the camp, she caught a sight of the ponies’ shocked expressions, and laughed darkly. How innocent. They hadn’t been the ones doing the actual killing. But one look at the blood on her armor, and they had half a mind to run for the hills.

Gilda ignored them. Unicorns weren’t that useful back at base – magic healing didn’t work on griffons, whose bodies were somehow naturally resistant to its effects. Their ability to erect magical shields, though – that was invaluable. The only difficult part was finding a unicorn who was willing to go into the killing fields…

Obviously, these ones weren’t willing. Gilda glanced at Armor again, who had a stony expression – trying to hide his real feelings, like how all the guard back in Equestria had been trained. Useful in poker, but useless in a combat situation. Under torture, he’d just buckle as easily. But at least Captain Armor’s eyes weren’t twitching as much as Twilight Sparkle’s. He could handle blood. It was probably just the implication of what that blood meant that disquieted him.

The encampment was bordered by the local forest, a river and the town buildings, with the river meandering from the peak of one mountain, along the side of the town, towards the lower river delta past the forest. That was where everyone dumped their waste products – the forest trees would welcome the extra nutrients…

It was the area just above that point where Gilda and her companions stopped, and hopped into the river to wash the blood off. The water wake formed by their bodies turned into sanguine froth a moment later.

Gilda ducked her head underwater, blocking out much of the sound of her companions. It was just the sound of water roaring past, the feel of cold fluid running past her wings; in that moment, she could feel a little bit of peace. Of course, it couldn’t last, and she reared her head back to a higher point – where she saw Twilight Sparkle looking at her from the riverbank. “Erm… Gilda?”

“What?” Gilda said, irritably, causing both Hans and Anya to jerk their heads up from whatever they were doing, in order to look directly at her.

Twilight instinctively backpedaled at the sight of the annoyed, 4 foot tall griffon in plate armor – before remembering that Luna was there, as well, to hopefully protect her if things got out of hoof. “I just wanted to ask you… how did it feel back there? The fighting, I mean.”

Gilda grumbled. She was in no mood to revel in her kills. Hell, she didn’t even want to remember her kills this week. “Why don’t you go see for yourself?” she growled, much to the horror of the unicorn. Good. If that meant she’d go away and stop bothering her…

“Maybe I will,” Twilight countered, and she saw Luna raise her head and slowly shake it in Twilight’s direction. Gilda had heard the alicorn’s subtle movements – but she couldn’t tell what they were, and she couldn’t turn her head to check without looking like she was eavesdropping.

“Or not,” Twilight muttered.

“The only way to know what war is like is to experience it for yourself,” Gilda said, flaring her wings and letting the water caress their undersides. Ah, bliss. Ironic, considering the subject material of their conversation.

“That is… a shame,” Twilight murmured.

“Perhaps.” Gilda shrugged, flicking water droplets off her neck-feathers. “Still, you get to just go home, after all of this.”

Armor had kept silent throughout this whole exchange, but now he spoke up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s a line people like us have crossed, Captain Armor,” Gilda said calmly, ignoring the aforementioned Captain’s shocked expression. “You can wash the blood off your body” – she threw a thumb back to the sanguine waters – “be it changeling or griffon. But not from your mind. Not as easily, in any case.”

Luna nodded. “The griffon is right. Ponies have forgiven my past transgressions, even though I myself have not. Do I deserve forgiveness? I did kill thousands.”

Armor shifted nervously. “Perhaps you did, but that is all in the past. Don’t dwell on it, please. Just learn all you can, and apply those lessons to what you do now.”

Luna laughed bitterly. “You make it sound as easy as breathing. Levin told me the same, but I guess he was hardened enough by his time in the death squad.”

Gilda smirked alongside the exiled princess, but her mind was a maelstrom of thoughts. Was she becoming like this? The first killing had been shocking; a very vivid example of the fine line between living and dying. Hell, if she hadn’t been trained, she doubted she’d be able to keep going, keep fighting. She'd just have run off into the forest. The fifteenth? Not so much.

Was she hardening? Looked like it.

Where did that road lead?

Well, at least it looked like she wouldn’t be alone. Luna would be alongside her. So would Levin, and Sev.

“How did you know?” Armor asked, still a bit shaken.

Gilda sighed. “One of her friends told me,” she said, gesturing towards Twilight. 

“Guess which one,” she said to the purple pony.

Luna stepped out of the river, and away from the scene. Armor rushed to her side, and she responded with an absent shrug.

Twilight also made to leave, but paused awkwardly, placing her side towards the griffons that were now emerging from the waters. “You’ve changed, you know.”

Gilda laughed harshly, moving to face the pony. “No shit.” She started to unbuckle her armor. The water that had been caught in the crannies ran out, collecting at a point and then dripping down into the soil.

Twilight held her ground, watching the griffon. “I used to think you were just some bully. Someone who cared about themselves more than anyone else.”

Gilda harrumphed absently, as she focused on a particularly awkward buckle. “Did you think why?”

“Huh?”

Gilda affixed the unicorn with a flat stare. “Everyone does something for a reason. Griffon, pony, doesn’t matter. Even dogs kill to eat.”

Twilight winced as the mental image of a starving wolf chomping down on one of Applejack’s sheep suddenly appeared in her mind.

Gilda ignored her. “I gotta thank you morons, though.”

Armor’s cry drew Twilight from her astonishment. She turned, to look at her brother, who was trying to look at both her and the Princess at the same time, and ended up walking sideways. At least the Princess seemed amused.

“A moment!” Twilight shouted after him, and she could see her brother roll his eyes whilst Luna smirked. For a while, this situation that they were in seemed almost normal. The sound of gunfire, carried by the wind away from the front, quickly brought her back to reality. “You don’t sound very thankful.”

Gilda had piled her armor onto her back, and fluffed out her chest feathers to get rid of the moisture trapped in them. She spread her wings, to better balance the pile on her back. “Do I ever? You only know me for what, a few hours at best?”

She started the walk back to her tent. Twilight paused for a second. The griffon hadn’t made any sort of gesture that she wanted Twilight to follow her, but then again, that sort of thing could have been assumed…

For the second time, Twilight slapped herself for not diversifying more in her studies. Magic was all well and good, but she’d only ever skimmed the other books, and as such only had a rudimentary understanding of other topics. Her friends didn’t seem to get that, though, what with their constant treatment of her as some sort of living encyclopedia.

Trusting her gut, Twilight made to follow, trotting up to keep pace with Gilda. “Why thank us? For ‘annoying’ you?”

Gilda could hear the air quotes, and for a moment her old anger arose, before she let it peter out in a low cackle. “Yeah, you could say that. That helped me become a better griffon.” She shrugged, readjusting the pile of gear stacked on her back. “Except maybe the pink one. She was such an idiot.”

Twilight glowered. “Pinkie is my friend. Besides, those pranks were all Dash’s fault.”

Gilda whistled like a bird, seemingly ignoring the pony’s angry expression. “You believe her? She could be lying. To protect her friend. You’re just gonna take what they say at face value, without research? Some scholar you are.”

“My friends don’t lie,” Twilight huffed, but as she did so she thought back to the time Applejack had done such things – as Honesty, ironically – when she’d been under Discord’s influence, and when she’d broken a promise.

“Some loyal friend Dash ended up to be,” Gilda chirped, seemingly in thought. She shrugged, all of a sudden. “Nice gambit. It was me, or her new friends. Loyalty is subjective, huh? You end up screwing over one of the two.”

Twilight felt another cold chill run down her back. “You still didn’t have to shout at Fluttershy. She was only herding a family of ducks down a street.”

“My drill sergeant would have been proud of me back then,” Gilda said, laughing, ignoring Twilight's shocked expression. “Those roads are for public use. She was being a disturbance."

"You do that in any griffon town, you get a fine.” The griffon laughed lightly. “Culture shock is a bitch.”

Twilight sighed, and shook her head. “That still doesn’t excuse your actions.”

Gilda shrugged, eliciting a clank from the pile on her back. “Maybe, maybe not. Either way, you know my motives.”

They stopped at the mouth of a canvas tent. The entrance, two flaps of canvas, flapped slowly and hypnotically in the breeze.

"Why are you suddenly telling me this?" Twilight asked. Something had just told her that it was a good time. It wasn't any sort of image or any words in her head, just a flashing feeling of the need to take action.

"Because I might die tomorrow." Without another word, Gilda walked through the entrance.

It was obviously her tent, and Twilight stopped and stood awkwardly at the mouth. She’d slept in the medic tent the past night. It wasn’t the best place to sleep, not with the sleepy moans of pain from the wounded.

Armor had slept beside her, but Princess Luna had chosen to sleep under the stars. Twilight had thought that it was for an appreciation of her own work – but now, she really didn’t know. Maybe Luna really did have deeper, unresolved problems. So much for the Nightmare Night facade.

Luna stood in the middle of the camp, near one of the barricades. The griffon lines had moved forwards by about a building, and as such, the barricades weren’t as heavily manned – most of the forces had been moved to the front lines. As Twilight watched on, the moon rose steadily into the sky, until its bottom touched the horizon, and then it appeared to stop.

Luna hadn’t even moved. Her horn wasn’t glowing, and it looked like she didn’t even try to raise the moon. Twilight saw the look of defeat in her eyes – the look of a pony that knew they weren’t ever truly needed. That must have been how she felt, 1000 years ago. Useless, unneeded…

The Princess didn’t even seem angry, though. She just collapsed, onto the grass, and began to sleep. Acceptance. She’d accepted the belief that she wasn’t needed. Attempting to deny it had brought her ruin – accepting the fact, meanwhile, had made her into a machine.

Twilight shivered, and for once, it wasn’t because of the cold winds blowing down the valley, or the casual ruthlessness of an acquaintance.

-&-

Sev sat with his back against a barricade. Already, he could hear the growls of the animals deeper in the town, the screeches of the insane griffons, and the bangs of the griffon rifles as they spat out their bullets. Just add the rumble of tomkahs and trireme tanks, and the deep booms of their mass accelerator cannons, and they’d have a perfect re-enactment of one of battles of the Krogan Rebellions.

The crunching sound of footsteps upon dead leaves pulled his attention up to where Riana stood, some 10 meters away.

“Can I speak with you?” she asked. She knew that she was his employer, and as such, she could talk to him whenever she wished. But this question gave him some authority, and it would prevent him from becoming defensive and locking himself away. It was better for her in the long run to appear softer, and treat him as an equal rather than a subordinate.

Sev nodded.

“Why did you press Levin for his past?” she asked, keeping her voice high and light, to make the conversation seem more like a friendly chat than an interrogation. That way, he’d be more willing to talk to her. She hoped.

Sev could see through the ruse, but he wanted to answer anyways, more to clear out any bad blood between them than out of explaining himself. “I figured that he was hastatim. This kind of fighting is very similar to what happened in his past. I could see his reaction to what the griffon said. He doesn’t like it.”

Riana nodded, even though she could see that he wasn’t really answering her. “But why then? Why not break it to him, slowly?”

“He’s a tough man,” Sev rumbled. “I thought he could take it. It was better then, than being pushed into the fight and then freezing at the first look of his target.”

Riana’s brow furrowed under her helmet. “What do you mean, being pushed into the fight? He could refuse.”

Sev chuckled. “He could. Would he? The griffon asks him to fight. He doesn’t want to, it reminds him too much of the hastatim. But he knows that if he doesn’t, others will die. He has the training and equipment to survive. He knows that. The griffons may not survive. It would be dishonorable to leave or decline. So, he will go. Even if he doesn’t want to. And he will suffer.” He breathed out, slowly, after that long monologue, and found Riana looking at him oddly.

“You did this for his benefit?” the asari asked, tilting her head slightly to one side.

Sev shrugged. “He is the one that pays me. The griffons don’t.” Pausing to take a breath, he looked around, finding only one griffon keeping her eye down her rifle.  “I thought he could take it. Turians are tough.”

“He seemed fine, last I saw of him,” Riana said, sitting down on the ground with her arms wrapped around her legs. “But next time, leave all of the counseling to me. You’re not subtle at all.”

Sev nodded, and watched as she walked away.

Life used to be so simple. Get a job, shoot someone, get paid.

Now I get roped into some diplomatic shit between two alien species I’ve never met before, that I don't have a stand in, and yet I'm playing a part to resolve it.

Heh. Nothing’s ever easy.

> Chapter 15
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 15

--

We fight or we die. That’s the plan. – Commander Shepard, 2186 CE 

--

Day two.

With that thought, Luna pushed herself up, as the sun just began to crest over the horizon. That had been a sort of waking call, in times past; unicorns would be able to detect the magical fluctuations that ‘raising’ the sun or the moon caused. They’d either wake, or know it was time to sleep.

It was kind of ironic that similar thoughts had plagued her time in exile. Back then, she’d lost count of the passing days after the first few hundred, and started thinking about anything – mathematics, philosophy, strategy – just to stave her mind off the boredom. She’d even conjured up fantasy worlds to live in. After a while, reality and fantasy looked the same. The castle psychologist had helped, but even now, her thoughts often drifted to places unknown.

She could see one of the aliens; the turian, Levin, who sat awkwardly in the middle of the camp, next to his vessel. He sat, hunched, with his weapon across his knees. Oddly, his stature reminded her of a flower; a moon lily, specifically, what with his body shape and the odd protrusions from his knees and ankles. Ironic that it was an alien that she felt she could relate to the best.

Trotting over, she could see him begin to look up, and she paused awkwardly. This seemed so much easier in her head. Closing her eyes, she began to speak. “For what it’s worth, I know how you feel.”

The alien had insisted on wearing some sort of armor that completely masked his smell and face. She couldn’t tell whether or not he was relieved, or annoyed, or both. He didn’t object, so she took that as a sign to continue. “Do you want to… talk about it?”

The turian glanced around, and Luna did so as well. She didn’t know what he was looking for. After a short pause, he stood up, towering over her. “Maybe in a quieter area,” he muttered, summoning his curious orange glove for a second and tapping it.

Luna obliged, and the two of them walked over to the rear of the camp, where they stopped just before the treeline.

“Shit,” Levin muttered, sitting with his back against the bark of the tree. “Why am I pouring out my past to you? I only know you for a day or two.”

Luna didn’t know what to say, so she just kept silent. After an awkward pause, she folded her forelegs under her, and sighed. “I’ll go first, if that’s alright.”

Levin nodded, and Luna closed her eyes.

“Long ago,” she said, voice laden with emotion. “my sister and I ruled over this land, and over our people. Over time, we saw that our citizens could shape the weather to our whim. The seasons, we could speed the passing of. We replaced nature, and became it.”

She paused, sighing, and Levin’s sharp eyes could pick out the traces of moisture around her eyes.

“I recognized that, if anything ever happened to us, or the ponies, the land we inhabited would die. Our actions had ensured that we had to be constantly at watch, constantly alert to correct any imbalance. My sister thought that it was a fair trade for the guarantee that her charges could live in peace. I didn’t.”

Levin knew what was coming next, and so he put a talon on the pony’s shoulder, receiving a small, grateful smile in return. “You two fought.”

“Yes,” Luna choked out, closing her eyes as tears started to appear. “You know what happened afterwards. A thousand dead, because of me. And in the end, nothing changed. They died in vain. My sister’s system is still in place.”

Levin squeezed her shoulder slightly, letting her know that he was still there, listening. “Have you told anyone else?”

A choked sound escaped from Luna’s mouth. It was something between a sob and a laugh. “My sister already knows, and she says she forgives me. The thousand deaths, however… I cannot simply go to some pony. Who would understand? Truly, truly understand? Shining Armor is blinded by patriotism and duty. My sister has her own demons, and she’s banished them down into the dark recesses of her mind in order to focus on ruling her nation.”

She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “But now, it is as if I have had a great weight lifted off of me.”

Levin’s mandibles flared in a lopsided grin. “I understand. Umm, do you want to listen to mine?”

Luna smirked, raising her head to look at him. “You listened to me, and comforted me. I will try to do the same.”

The turian chuckled heartily. “Macedon, Solregit. It’s a turian colony, right out in the frontier. Back then, we had separatists and loyalists – the former wanted to secede from the Hierarchy” – seeing Luna’s confusion, he elaborated – “the government. The latter didn’t.”

He paused. Now he knew how Luna felt. It was tough, remembering painful memories. “Separatists killed about 10,000, to 20,000. Exact number was never known, because some of the victims were vaporized in the blast. Anyways, the government passed the order to send in the, ah, the death squads.”

Levin sighed as he remembered how eager he’d been to avenge the dead. If only he knew…

Sensing his hesitation, Luna stretched out her neck to nuzzle him. He jerked backwards, raising his arms until they covered his chest. The pony stopped what she was doing, and looked at him.

“I just wanted to comfort you,” Luna said, confusion evident in her voice, and hurt in her eyes.

Levin mentally kicked himself. Of course their culture was different from his. “Sorry. Overreacted, I guess. Back home, that kind of gesture is for… close partners.” He sighed, something that he’d gotten rather good at. “I joined up. The death squads usually don’t take any corporals, but I was an exception, since I had outstanding service beforehand. Tavus – he was my officer in the squads – warned me beforehand. Hell, he warned all of us. I guess he’d seen a lot of people like me. I should have listened. Should’ve, but I didn’t.”

Letting out a rattling breath, Levin looked to the sky, where the first rays of dawn started to poke over the horizon. That meant the others would start waking soon.

“I knew what I had to do. Back then, I had no qualms – the greater good demanded it, see? But when I came up to the houses…” he trailed off, and Luna awkwardly put a hoof on one of his shoulders, mirroring his own action. His mandibles flared in gratitude, even though he knew she wouldn’t be able to see it. “So, my group and I came up to this street we were supposed to be clearing. Most of them were empty, the civilians moved off to the safe camps. The last one, though…”

He paused again. Better get this out, get this over with. She’d done the same, and you should return the favor.

“A family. A man, a woman, two children. The father was holding a gun, a weapon, so I shot him first. The others, though… I hesitated. And then I heard Tavus come up…”

“You disobeyed orders,” Luna said, solemnly. “And received punishment for doing the right thing.”

Levin laughed emptily, and the harsh, coughing sounds made Luna tilt her head in confusion. “I wish I had. Oh, spirits. You know what I did? Orders were orders. I killed them. All of them.”

His voice degenerated into coughing chirps, and Luna looked down at the ground, momentarily shocked. No wonder he’d become disillusioned. To be ordered to do such a thing…

“It was for the greater good, did they not say?” she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. Already, she could hear the sounds of chirping, screeching voices emanating from the camp, and the smell of camp rations being cooked wafted downwind, over their spot. “You believed that. At the time, at least.”

The turian let out a few, half-hearted chuckles. “Yeah, I did. The policy is still in effect, so I suppose the government still believes what they do is justified. Is it? I don’t know.” He sighed. “I just don’t want to get involved. Not anymore.”

Luna tried to smile, but the weight of her memories dragged down the corners of her mouth. “At least you stopped. You recognized that your actions opposed your morals.”

“Yeah. But to think, I once… I once was like that. Sobering.”

Luna grimaced. “You’re not alone in this. Just remember that.” She began to stand as the screeches of griffons filled the air, and the soft clanks of metal against metal tinkled off from the closest tents.

“Princess,” Levin started, and then stopped as the pony turned to look at him, straight in the eye. Suddenly, everything he wanted to say was taken away from him. He blinked twice, trying to grasp the words at the edge of his mind. “Thanks,” he finished, lamely.

Luna smiled, and turned to face him fully, stretching out her neck for a nuzzle. This time, he let her.

-&-

Back in the center of camp, Gilda sighed.

Another day of slaughter, coming up.

She flicked open her armor – two pieces of red-painted steel, connected with a network of spider-silk straps – and began the process of putting it on.

She’d done it so many times that she could do it with her eyes closed. This time, she chose to divert her attention to a small photograph that stuck half-way out of her bag.

It depicted Rainbow Dash and herself, arms around one another, staring out and smiling at the camera. A memory of happier times. A time before she’d been called up for her mandatory military service at 14. A time before she'd chosen to stay at the end of her 4-year course.

Gilda felt another sigh come up her throat. She thought about forcing it down, but the lesson of her latest reunion shot back through her mind. Never hide your own feelings. Miscommunication had nearly killed a relationship.

Good thing they made up, though. Now, Dash at least had some respect for her left. Damn, what was that reunion about? Oh, yeah. Getting affairs in order. The military wasn’t a cushy job. She knew it’d probably be one of the last reunions she’d have in her life, and, well, that pink bastard screwed it up…

Gilda’s claws extended unconsciously, and she took a deep breath before putting the last touches on her armor. Griffon soldiers were trained to attack at range; a consequence of the relatively mountainous territory that they inhabited, as well as their sharp eyes and gift of flight. Getting up close was dangerous. Whilst they were born with natural daggers in the form of their claws, they lacked the hardiness of earth ponies or diamond dogs, and the speed of pegasi. As such, their armor tended to reflect this strategy; light armor for the forearms and shins, plate for the chest, and a spider-silk hood for a helmet. Though, since spider-silk was expensive and difficult to manufacture, those hoods were only given to those of high rank and importance to the state. Most common soldiers went around with cloth hoods or no hood at all.

Still, what was past was past. Gilda shrugged, although she couldn’t help but feel a little cheated when she thought back to that fateful day. If Dash wanted her new friends, so be it.

She listened to the sounds around her; chirping birds from the forest behind her, interspersed with the percussion of gunfire from the buildings in front, and overlaid with the constant, low hiss of wind going south.  A typical day, all in all.

Gilda had to smirk. Maybe the Maker was right all along. With the blood she’d spilt on behalf of her people, maybe they just weren’t supposed to get along well. They most certainly wouldn’t after all of this was done. Tartarus, she wasn’t even sure she’d be able to get a tourist visa when the Equestrians knew what she’d done.

After checking that her ammo bandolier was full, and her rifle working, she stepped through the canvas opening of her tent.

Twilight and Armor stood together, as usual. She couldn’t spot the massive krogan anywhere, which probably meant that he’d gone off to do something of his own in the city. The other two aliens were going towards the medic tent.

“Hey, Twilight,” Gilda said, absently tugging on the rifle’s carrying strap that lay across her chest. “This is your chance. You coming or not?”

Twilight shook her head, just as expected. Gilda turned her head to look at the Captain.

Armor shook his head. “I’m staying with my sister.”

Gilda shrugged. “Your Princess isn’t. A guard that refuses to protect his charge?”

Seeing Armor fume silently was amusing, but after a few moments she turned away, towards the campfires, where the smell of roasting rations hung in the air.

-&-

After they’d gotten a foothold in the first row of buildings, the purge became significantly easier.

Most buildings were at about the same height to one another, and as such, the soldiers could simply shoot from one window to the next. Of course, the same could be said for the insane, but most of them were either shot through before they could aim their guns, or missed by a wide margin.

Still, Gilda thought, that didn’t exactly make it any less dangerous when breaching. At this kind of distance, any shot could be fatal, and it wasn’t like it was easy to miss.

She looked back at her squad again. Hans was clutching his standard-issue rifle, with a bayonet attached at the end. The exiled Princess didn’t look particularly happy about this, but at least she showed up – that was saying something. This pony had guts. Or maybe she was just psychotic. The events of the Longest Night didn’t really make her that sympathetic of a pony. Anya stood at the back, carrying one of those new, state-of-the-art rifles; full steel construction, box magazine, bolt-action, with holes bored into the stock to decrease weight, and a modular design. Currently, she’d taken off the extended barrel to shorten the length, for ease of use in close quarters, and a bayonet stuck out from under the threaded tip.

The guards in the row behind had reported seeing the massive alien go in and out of houses in front, but aside from that, they didn’t know what he was doing, or where he was now. No matter. It only meant that her job would be tougher.

With a blue shimmer of her horn, the Princess constructed a magical shield around each of the griffons and herself. Right. Time to go, Gilda. The griffon took a deep breath.

The door didn’t really exist anymore. Only some shards of wood remained attached via hinges to the doorway – the rest, along with the barricade behind the door, had been mulched and blown backwards into the room.

Moving quickly, Gilda went for the left side of the room, rifle butt pressed against her shoulder. She knew without seeing that Hans would go for the right – standard procedure. Anya would stay at the rear, covering any doorways with her rifle, whilst the Princess would keep up her concentration and hold the shielding. She hoped. Too late to have second thoughts. Act, act!

The adrenaline pumping in her ears almost drowned out Hans’s shout, and the screeches coming from his position. A shot rang out from behind her; Anya.

Once she established that there were no enemies on her side, Gilda turned her head around to find Hans with his bayonet embedded deep in another griffon’s neck. That would have been normal. What wasn’t normal was the fact that the dead griffon seemed to be missing his left arm and leg. Those appendages looked like they’d been torn off, according to the shredded stumps that now adorned his figure. One sightless eye stared upwards, angry even in death, and the other had been reduced to vitreous slime by Anya’s shot. Gilda averted her gaze after a second of staring.

“Clear,” she muttered, and Hans replied an affirmative.

-&-

Sev trudged down the main road, holding his shotgun loosely in his arms. The destination – a cliff-face with a hole bored through the center, as if a thresher maw had made its lair there – lay only a few hundred meters away.

He stepped over a pile of dead bodies, boots squelching as some of the rotting flesh gave way beneath his boots. Never mind; he’d push through.

To both sides, buildings stood like the sides of a grey canyon. Through the windows on each side, he could seldom spot movement – fast and agile, similar to those human husks. He had considered opening fire – his shots could punch through steel as if it were butter, thanks to the upgrades – but it would be like shooting blind, and he knew he’d only waste ammo.

His shields flared blue, all of a sudden, and he felt a slight kick as the Fortification program in his armor activated. Enemy shots. From behind.

He whirled around, finding a pack of six griffons, each holding their own rifles. All of the weapons had smoke pouring out of the barrels.

Multiple targets. He switched out to his own assault rifle, before pings from the north drew his attention, and his armor shimmered again as it stopped the southbound bullets. So, these birds had the brains to create an ambush. It was a shame that their weapons would do no good against his armor.

A quick trigger sweep, and the six birds lay dead on a pool of their own blood and body parts. Sev turned –

A weight smashed into his back, and as he stumbled forwards, the short stab of pain that shot from his shoulder made him hiss in surprise and anger. He didn’t have the time to register how their claws got so sharp – another griffon lunged at him as he half-faced them, and he swung down at the offending bastard. The griffon crumpled to the ground, but sprang up just half a second later, seemingly no worse for wear.

That was when the first inklings of fear trickled into Sev’s mind. Even with the blood pounding in his ears, and with the pain subsiding into the background, the surprise that they’d actually managed to pierce his armor hit him like a tomkah.

As he felt the soft squish of medi-gel against the suit breaches, he took aim at the griffon on the ground. Divide and conquer. For the moment, he ignored the one that was raking its claws along his armor, and brought his rifle to bear on the standing griffon.

Even as he pulled the trigger, and as red trails pounded into the griffon and the earth around him in a blaze of heat and fire and noise, the griffon’s arm moved lighting fast, arcing around to swipe at the weapon. Just before the limb separated from the body, the claws made contact, scoring deep marks along the barrel of the gun. With a growing sense of horror, mixed with frustration and excitement, Sev noticed the gun starting to hiss and bleep incessantly, and that the rate of fire was starting to wind down.

The gun spiraled out of his hands as he let go, and the dead griffon’s limb followed it, bloodying the grip. Obviously the hardcoded safety system had detected a fault, and locked down the gun to prevent damage to its internals. It would be useless compared to the Claymore that he drew quickly afterwards.

With his other hand, he ripped the griffon off his back, and flung him to the ground. The revelation that the bastard was actually a female went over his head, as he examined her claws.

They weren’t like Gilda’s, that was for sure. As Sev ran her through with the bayonet attached to his shotgun, he could see trails of dark blue lines creeping down the golden tissue of the griffon’s claws, and the tips of those claws seemed to be blackened, as if they had been scorched.

The Reapers had gotten to her.

The shotgun boomed once, and the griffon’s body flung off the bayonet blade, in two halves. And that was it. Sev stopped shooting, listening to the sound of a dead settlement. Nothing but the distant cries of griffons, the pops of their primitive weaponry, and the whistle of the breeze. No deep hum, no tightening of the chest. As far as he knew, the indoctrination devices weren’t active now.

He picked up the rifle again, inspecting the damage. Three claw marks were evident upon the place where the barrel met the firing chamber, and he could see that the metal plating there had given way. It appeared to be dented, and through the holes, he could see exposed electronics.

The gun was by no means unfixable, but as this Striker was an old, outdated model, its internal electronic systems were hard to come by. Krogan guns were developed to be as tough as possible; they needed to be as hardy as their wielders, in order to survive unforgiving Tuchanka. The idea of repairing a broken gun was incomprehensible, and as such, replacement parts were often just scavenged from other discarded weapons. But since no one used this model anymore, he’d have to dig through trash just to find another circuit board that fit, and hope that board wasn’t damaged either.

He swore. He couldn’t do that right now. No one on this planet even knew what mass accelerators were. Sev gave the trigger an experimental pull, and the gun spat out a round, accompanied by a spray of sparks. Sighing, the krogan popped the thermal clip and replaced that back into his ammo pouch, before folding the gun and clamping it onto his back. No use but scrap metal now.

The Claymore in his hands was still working. Good enough. With a few swipes on his omni-tool, he diverted suit power to the scanner systems. Shields couldn’t nullify melee attacks, by design, so he only needed the minimum. More information, however, gave him more power.

He heard the general chatter back at camp; Levin and Riana were still in the medical area, tending to the wounded, although there were no more new arrivals. They were talking about the future – what they were going to do, etcetera. He rolled his eyes. “Found griffon husks,” he said into the coms, kicking the body closest to him absentmindedly. “Do you feel symptoms of indoctrination?”

During the Reaper War, the symptoms of indoctrination had been broadcasted over the extranet, as part of a galactic effort against the Reapers. Leaders of each race had mobilized the hospital systems as well, and posters of the symptoms had been everywhere on the Citadel during the war.

Riana and Levin instantly shut up, and after a brief pause, the softer voice of the asari could be heard. “No, I don’t.”

Levin denied feeling any symptoms as well.

Sev sighed, gripping the blade of his knife as he looked down at the dead griffon. The blue lines adorning her claws seemed to be dim, like dark blue tattoos rather than strips of light. The limb that he’d blown off the first griffon lay shredded on the ground, with bits of half-cooked meat and bone arranged haphazardly around it. That would do no good.

He looked at the griffon halves in front of him. Her chest had been blown apart by the shotgun blast, and the head and arms looked like they were just barely hanging by a tendon, but on the whole they seemed to be relatively intact. The close-range shotgun blast had confined the damage to the torso.

A downwards slash of the knife separated an arm from the body, and he turned back towards the griffon camp, sticking the limb on the end of the bayonet for ease of transport.

The passing gray buildings blurred together, and before long, he arrived at the camp, with a pouch full of cooling thermal clips. The husks had tried to ambush him, shooting him from their relatively high position on the second floors of the buildings. When that hadn’t worked, they’d stayed inside their buildings, probably to get the jump on him when he brushed past.

His Claymore shots put an end to their plans. The scanners had highlighted their approximate positions through the walls as red squares, and the red-hot, armor-piercing buckshot ejected from the gun punched through the house walls like tissue paper. What was behind those walls hadn’t fared much better.

-&-

Armor felt useless.

He’d cowered behind the barricades of the griffon camp while his Princess, that he’d sworn to serve with his life, went out and risked her own for the sake of some country that they weren’t even friendly with!

Furthermore, he’d come only on the risk that he’d be gone for a day, at most. They were nearing the second night by now, and he wasn’t sure how Canterlot was doing in his absence. A part of him kicked himself for that thought; Canterlot would be fine, and you got one-upped the last time an emergency happened. Even if you’d stayed, what would have changed?

Armor scowled idly, and the griffon next to him gave him an odd look.

At least Twilight looked okay. She’d been staying at the medic tent, at his insistence, but he had the feeling that she’d known more about what was happening than she let on. The screeches and cracks emanating from the north didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Everyone was going to go home different.

He doubled the strength of the shield-barrier he’d conjured, and felt a hot, sharp stab of pain as another bullet slammed into the purple magic, half-melting on impact, and fell to the ground. He groaned, just as the bang of the griffon’s rifle brought him back to the situation at hand.

The griffon screeched and squawked, all of a sudden, and Armor poked his head up the barricade. He soon wished he hadn’t.

Somehow, the two aliens at camp had come out of their own accord, seemingly in sync with the arrival of the brute. Worse, Twilight followed them out a moment later.

Sev tossed the limb into the camp, and as Armor rushed to tell his sister to return, the appendage landed at his hooves.

He screamed. His white coat flecked with drops of red blood, the tendons of the torn limb stringing out like puppet strings, the bitter smell of death, cooked flesh and blood – all of that combined together to turn his insides out, and he vomited into the grass next to the limb.

The two aliens didn’t show any emotion at all, but with their armor on, it was impossible to see their real reactions. Nonetheless, Levin slowly approached the limb, before picking it up by the claws, examining the tips.

“Deadened Reaper circuits,” he said at last, dropping the limb. “Tips seem to be some sort of synthetic alloy, probably Reaper hull material. Monomolecular sharp.”

He laughed emptily as he dropped the limb back on the ground. “Well, good luck. They’ll need it.”

“Deadened?” Riana asked, running a scan on the limb. It picked up no transmissions of any frequency near. As far as she knew, the Reapers weren’t controlling these griffons.

Levin shrugged. “Husks have glowing eyes, yes? When they die, they lose the glow. The machine powers down.”

Hefting himself over the barrier, Sev spoke. “The dead griffon still managed to swipe me. Busted my rifle.”

Armor and Twilight had huddled together, an island of familiarity in an ocean of mystery. “What is going on?” Twilight asked. She’d normally want to have a look at the specimen herself, but this time she preferred to pass on the chance, seeing her brother’s reaction.

“Looks like the Reaper wiring didn’t meld correctly,” Riana continued, as she swiped across the holographic interface. “See, it’s not along the nerves, until the tip.” That was probably the reason why the griffons hadn’t died alongside their cybernetics. Overloading the electronics wouldn’t have overloaded the brains, and as such, the griffons would be able to continue functioning even after the death of the Reapers. She turned to Sev. “Did you get a good look at the body?”

Sev nodded. “No obvious outwards signs. Only the claws are strange.”

Riana mirrored his body language unconsciously. “That’s why it didn’t get destroyed,” she murmured. “Looks like the conversion process went wrong. Even if it did get a signal, you see, it wouldn’t be able to control the arm. Only the claws.”

“The ones we fought when we came here weren’t like that,” the griffon by the barricade said, evidently having overheard. “They looked normal, but were just… insane.”

Sev shrugged. “I went pretty far into town.”

Riana swore suddenly. “This changes everything. If they’re husks, even some sort of half-husk, they’ll need help.”

The griffon nearby scoffed. “Nah, we don’t. We were doing fine, and we will do fine.”

“Tell me that when one of those bastards latches onto you,” Levin said, thinking back to London again. Those human husks had sharp fingers, and their swipes still hurt like hell.

The griffon patted the side of his gun. “Stupid to let them do that. Keep them at range.”

Thinking of the hordes of husks rushing towards London FOB, Levin shook his head. “Sometimes you don’t have a choice.” When was that? Shepard had been downed, meters away from the beam to the Citadel; the next few hours were blurred into a mix of frantic shooting, emergency broadcasts, and vicious, brutal killing. On both sides.

Riana looked at the shuttle. “There’s a flamer in there,” she said slowly. “Hieras-base, modified. Uses electricity instead of oil.”

Levin knew where that line of thinking went. “You’re not serious, are you? Could you handle it?”

The asari sighed. “I’m not sure. But I skipped out on the Reaper War, and I don’t want to feel like I’m not helping in the war effort.”

Sev huffed. “There’s a ‘mine’ at the end of the town. Take the shuttle in, hit them hardest.”

Both of his teammates knew what he meant by that. Take the loot whilst killing off the griffon husks, most likely at the source. Two birds killed with a single stone.

The only problem was whether they could handle the fighting. Sev knew he could. He’d been through worse in the Alliance’s special, multispecies N7 Operations units. He could distinctly remember this one time, when he'd had to stand up against 50 or more assorted Reaper units after the rest of his squad got killed in action. Huh. Come to think of it, the Alliance had to wait until all the Reapers started regrouping before they could send replacements down by shuttle.

But Riana had no combat training at all. Her only method of offense was the flamethrower in the shuttle, and the Predator pistol strapped to her hip. Levin had undergone his species’ mandatory military service, and he’d gone and done some more before resigning. If he got stuck in some flashback out there, he’d be dead.

Riana began to nod, albeit reluctantly. “This is the best way. We save time, and we help the griffons.” She turned to Levin, who had begun to grip the upper parts of his arms with his talons. “I’m sorry, my friend,” she said, in a lower tone. “But this is for the best. Without our help, the griffons will take more casualties from the Reapers.”

By saying that the insane griffons were essentially husks, Riana hoped to alleviate any guilt that Levin could develop. Killing the Reaper husks, his former comrades-in-arms, hadn’t been particularly easy for him, she knew. And it was her fault for getting them into this mess. She’d suggested checking the place out, and it had seemed like an innocent and reasonable request – the planet was a day out from the nearest mass relay. Just one quick detour couldn’t hurt, she’d thought.

Levin sighed, seeing no way out. He had to do this; for the griffons, if not for themselves. Kind of ironic that the atonement was essentially the same as the crime, just with different people.

Whilst Riana went off to comfort Twilight, who thought that they’d been left behind, Levin went towards the shuttle. His heart sank as he spotted the krogan inside. Just on cue, his chest started to throb dully like an old memory, and he suppressed a snarl.

Both of the males watched one another warily as they got into their respective seats, and both of them breathed out a sigh of relief as the cockpit door closed between them.

As he heard the thump of footsteps on the shuttle floor, and as the indicator light for the shuttle door switched from open to closed, Levin thought about what he’d gotten himself into.

This wasn’t his fight, he knew. If, by chance, they’d passed by this planet, the griffon husks would have been put down by the rest of the native army. This was totally a fight of choice – to help the griffons kill their insane brethren. That was what the rational, cold part of his mind screamed.

The emotive side of him said that he would be a coward if he didn’t provide any help. A disgrace to the turian race. What was the point of all that training and equipment if he wasn’t going to use it to help people?

Last time, ‘helping’ the Hierarchy involved doing some very questionable things.

His help had also saved lives during the Reaper War.

Levin ran pre-flight checks, but he’d done it for so long that it had become second nature, and as he watched the shuttle give out confirmations of working systems, his mind buzzed away.

The krogan was a bastard, but he was right. Levin hated to admit it, but Sev had helped him out there. What would he have done otherwise? Join the griffons in their door-to-door killing? He’d have hesitated, but the sight of lesser trained and equipped soldiers going out to risk their lives – that would be the tipping point. He’d have done it. Gone in place of the griffons, even. No one else needed to die.

He gave a little growl of anger as a lance of dull pain shot up from his chest area. Bastard could at least be more subtle. Ha. A subtle krogan. Maybe when hell froze over.

Then again, it did, didn’t it? The Reapers were beaten back, against all odds. Who knows?

Levin groaned, and pushed his free-flying thoughts out of his head, attempting to concentrate on the task in front of him. The pre-flight checklist beeped happily, before dissipating into the air, to be replaced by a holographic interface for control of the shuttle.

With a deep hum and the hissing roar of thrusters, the shuttle lifted itself carefully into the air, heading north.

-&-

Sev peered out of the open door, at the grassy ground below. It was blackened with blood and littered with the torn bodies of griffons, each of whom looked like they had been converted. That had been six clips' worth of shots. His scanners picked up nearby hostiles, but it appeared that they were all in the mineshaft itself. They’d put themselves into a chokehold.

Riana gripped the flamer as she sat beside him. They’d agreed that Sev should take point, due to his heavier armor; Levin would park the shuttle as near as possible to the mineshaft, and stay by it, providing overwatch with his Avenger, whilst Riana would follow closely behind Sev, roasting any large clumps of enemies. She and Levin had argued about who should take the flamer. He said that he had the training to survive, if things went sideways, but she countered that he would be a liability in the confined spaces, and that he didn’t want to do this anyways. Both of them conceded that last point.

In the end, he’d relented after her argument for squad unity. All three of them knew what she meant; the fight at camp the day before yesterday had put a lot of bad blood between Sev and Levin, and both males were watching the other carefully. In a combat situation, you needed to be able to trust your comrade, and Levin knew that he couldn’t trust Sev. He couldn’t now, at least. Not after what the krogan had done to him.

The mouth of the mineshaft tunnel loomed ahead; a square, black hole, supported on the sides with wooden beams. With a hard bump, the shuttle hit the ground, and the roar of the thrusters died down. Sev nodded, took a deep breath, and walked forwards into the void.

-&-

Gilda heard the distinctive sound of the alien vessel as she took out yet another enemy griffon. Hearing her teammates’ confirmations that the floor was clear, she stuck her head out of the window. Normally she wouldn’t be this reckless, but the shimmer of Luna’s shield assured her of her safety.

As she watched, the thing headed due north, towards the local mine. That was where the epidemic had started, according to her superiors’ guesses. The mine was a fairly new addition to the town, constructed after signals of metallic materials had been discovered near the area.

She sighed. Even if the aliens were to run, she still had her orders. She remembered Gustav’s report of the defiled griffon claw, and what conclusions the aliens had drawn from it. Griffons, augmented beyond their natural ability, but losing their sanity in the process – horrific, for both the victim and the one who had to put him or her down.

She was suddenly struck by a massive sense of fatigue, and the noon sun appeared to mock her as she pulled her feathered head back into the safer confines of the house. How long had they been here? A week? Ten days? She couldn’t remember.

That both scared and relieved her.

She had gotten used to the killing. It was a normal, everyday thing – literally. What would Dash say? She pondered for less than a second, before cracking a grin that looked more like a grimace. Dash probably wouldn’t want to associate with her anymore. Definitely not, not after this.

She shrugged. Before, she knew she would have flew into a rage at the unfairness of it all – she’d been ordered to do this, it wasn’t like she enjoyed murder! – but now, she just couldn’t feel a thing. She was just tired. Exhausted. What was past, was past, and so be it. Maybe she’d just retire to some island somewhere, far from anyone else, and die alone, in peace.

Kind of ironic that the military, which had preached unity, duty to the state and the people, had left her like this, she reflected. In the end, she’d just wanted to lie down and sleep. Screw the state, and screw the people. Do your own fucking dirty work yourself.

She kicked herself for that selfish thought a second later. She was in the army to help others, not to feed her own ego or greed. If she couldn’t handle it, then she might as well resign.

She cracked a lopsided grin at that. Resignation was looking more and more attractive as time passed. If she survived, they’d no doubt give her a medal and a speech saying how proud they were of her, and that she was a hero to the griffon people. Funny, that. She didn’t feel like a hero. She didn’t feel proud. She just felt… tired.

She was still cracking that rictus grin as Luna, Hans and Anya regrouped with her. The griffons recognized that tired smile, but Luna’s ears jerked backwards in surprise. Ah, let her worry, Gilda thought. She had done what she had to do, and what was the point feeling sad about it?

Hans and Anya looked haggard as well. Hans had his talons caked in other griffons’ blood, and he wiped his cheek with a free talon unconsciously, leaving a line of gore running below his eye. No one could care less right now.

Gilda barely nodded as she surveyed her team, and then she turned to look at the mine opening. “Let’s finish what we came here to do.”
> Chapter 16
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 16

--

May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead. – Old human saying

--

The mine’s ceiling brushed against the top of Sev's head. It was narrow, by his standards, but the griffons were only about 4 foot tall, tops. Why did they dig such a large opening?

The metal door in front of them answered that question perfectly.

It had been engraved, Riana saw. Once upon a time, the door had been decorated with a myriad of symbols, one leaking into another like a serpent’s colors. Over millennia, dirt had filled in the gaps, making the earth as much a part of the decoration of the door as the symbols themselves.

Worse, the door was open. And it didn’t appear to have been forced open.

Holding his now-useless rifle by the stock, Sev pushed it into the gap. Open doors meant that treasure hunters – or, in this case, miners – could have gone through, and set off any anti-intruder devices. Still, better safe than sorry.

He swept the door for traps, raising the weapon from ground level, to as high as it could go. He could detect no ceiling beyond the door. Maybe the gun was just too stubby. Nothing. No active motion sensors.

That didn’t rule out infra-red sensors, only triggered by detection of body heat. He gestured to the door. “Flamer.”

A quick pull of the trigger, and white fire spewed out of the flamer for a fraction of a second. The dirt vitrified into glass under the 1,600 Kelvin flame. Sev stood aside, seeing his armor blacken slightly under the intense heat passing by his chest. It was quite an experience.

He patted his chest, and saw dry, black flakes detach themselves from impact, drifting slowly onto the ground.

Still, he had a job to do.

The sides of the open doorway nearly touched the sides of the mineshaft, and because of that, he could slip into the ship, if only just.

The floor felt solid beneath his feet, a feel he’d been missing. The natural earth outside had been horrible to fight on – he’d sunk about an inch into the ground, thanks to his massive weight, and it always felt like the ground wanted to trap him.

Sev looked up. The ceiling was significantly higher than the door – almost another 8 feet away. The side walls stood thirty feet apart, with the door right in the middle, and a corridor lined with support beams of a golden color shot off into the distance, like a sniper’s bullet.

The whole area seemed endless. His flashlight could only penetrate about 20 meters in front, and even with the help of night-vision modules in his suit, he could only see to about 50 meters before everything dissolved into a grey fog.

Riana stepped in beside him, gripping the body of her flamethrower tightly. He could see even see the crinkles in the tough material of her gloves.

Looking around, he could see piles of what looked like rectangular boxes scattered on the floor. No, not scattered. It was as if the entire floor was those boxes. Some were thin, others were stout, but they all looked like they had the same shape. They lay on the ground without any sort of order; some were by themselves, others had slammed together into a pile taller than he was.

The closest box lay at his feet, with only a series of glyphs on the center of the top face as its only feature. He kicked at it, lightly. Surprisingly for something so old, it didn’t crumble at the slightest touch.

The clanking sound reverberated throughout the humongous artificial cavern, and Sev suddenly remembered that they weren’t the only ones in here.

So much for stealth. He could hear his asari companion’s breathing over the coms – it was that loud.

Sighing, he raised the shotgun to shoulder level, and waited for the first enemies to arrive. He didn’t have to wait long. Due north, a cluster of dots popped up on his HUD. The red blob was so dense with enemies that it looked they’d merged together into another Reaper nightmare.

He tapped Riana on the shoulder, and the woman literally jumped into the air as if she had a spring under her. “Ah!” she screamed, lashing out to her side and hitting Sev in the process. The krogan didn’t mind. He barely felt the blow.

“Ten plus hostiles,” he said calmly, pumping the shotgun. He didn’t have to do it, he knew; but it was a good way to gather his concentration for what was going to happen.

Riana reined her breathing in, coiling her gasps into hisses, and re-checked the fuel gauge. Approximately 60 seconds of continuous fire. More than necessary.

Sev nodded and grunted, climbing on top of the pile in front of him. The griffons were closing, approximately 20 meters out now. He had seconds. More than enough.

Just as his foot hit the top box, his spotlight found a vaguely bird-like face up ahead. The thing was still recognizably griffon – but just. Metal replaced what looked to be flesh, such that pipes had burst out of its skin, like worms out of a piece of fruit. The spinal tube split into four, each leading down into a leg, sinking into the ankle, and coming out underneath the sole of each ‘foot’. The head still looked mostly natural, but the rear of the head had tubes leading out to interface with the metal spine.

In short, it wasn’t a griffon anymore. It was a Reaper unit.

Sev noticed the thing’s back legs bunching up, and its wings, surprisingly unchanged, flicked out. Just as the thing launched upwards, it caught a faceful of buckshot, and fell back to earth unceremoniously.

“Aim for the head!” Sev shouted into the coms, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Fighting in the dark, against Reaper units, outnumbered 15 to 1; nothing in the galaxy could match the sheer excitement.

His Claymore had 3 shots; factory ones only had one round, but Sev’s one had been rebuilt from the ground up with high-grade frictionless materials and a top-of-the-line heatsink, amongst other upgrades such as capacitor-boosted kinetic coils, an extended barrel, and a smart choke, giving it ridiculous amounts of stopping power for its size. The thing had been used in the field to punch through the poly-crystalline composite shields that Cerberus Guardian units used, and turn the man behind the shield into red mush. Against the flesh and thin metal plating of the griffon, it was horrifyingly effective.

By his side, Sev thought he could hear the sharp hiss of the flamethrower as its pump engaged, before the growling roar of the fire pouring out of its barrel drowned it out. His own shotgun’s blasts punctuated the flamer’s low, steady roar, lighting up the nearby area with the muzzle flash for each pull of the trigger.

The gun hissed, all of a sudden, and Sev realized that he’d overloaded the thermal clip. As steam poured out of vents by the side of the gun, he popped the red-hot heatsink out, letting it roll to some inopportune place, before snapping another in –

Too late. Just as the clip clicked inside the gun’s holder, a griffon jumped Sev, and both of them went tumbling off the pile. Riana threw a glance over to him for a moment, before the sight of three griffons in her peripheral vision, lit up by the white tongue of flame bursting out of the flamer’s muzzle, drew her attention back to her fight.

Sev wasn’t really that worried. He could feel the gun’s comforting weight pressing against his torso, and as the griffon pulled back its left claw to deliver an armor-piercing strike, Sev reached around the griffon’s back with his own left hand, wrapping the meaty fingers around the tubes.

One pull sideways and the griffon flew off him, rolling once before springing back to its feet. Sev hadn’t been as fast, thanks to his bulk, but he’d gotten one hand on the grip of the Claymore, and that was enough to even the odds.

As the griffon jumped, Sev swung the shotgun around like a bat, catching the griffon with the bayonet on the end, and slicing through the griffon’s neck. The momentum flung the griffon off the blade and onto the ground, where it bounced once before coming to a stop.

Even decapitated, the thing wheezed, trying to put up a façade of breathing. Sev didn’t bother grading it; with a blast from his shotgun, the thing dissolved into a reddish grey mix of blood and metal.

The kick from the gun was enough to break a human arm; luckily, Sev wasn’t human. Still, he could feel the gun attempt to buck him back a foot, but as he looked over a Riana, he forgot all about that.

The asari had put up a valiant effort. For a complete novice to war, she hadn’t died yet, or needed a medi-gel shot; but he could tell that her fight wasn’t going well. She’d started to retreat, attempting to funnel the griffons through a ‘valley’ in the box-landscape. Apparently, she’d forgotten that they had wings.

Sev scrambled up a nearby pile of boxes, trying to get to a position near her. It was an uphill battle; literally. The griffons had all but ignored him, in favor of turning the asari into mincemeat. Why? He didn’t know. But he wasn’t about to let his employer die.

Another shotgun blast sent a griffon tumbling down from its high perch above the woman, and for a moment, the flamer’s roar stopped just as a gasp of surprise sounded through the coms. Sev swore, as did Levin. The turian was fighting every instinct to rush down into the warrens of the spaceship to rescue his friend, Sev knew. He’d make sure that there would be no need.

Levin swore again, and Sev could distinctly hear the slight crackle of assault rifle fire through the coms. So the griffons had gotten the message, and were doubling down on them. The ones from outside weren’t as heavily husked as these ones in front of him – no doubt, they’d spent less time around the ship and whatever artifact had started this off – but the prospect wasn’t looking good for Riana.

The sudden lack of warm, orange light elicited crackled chirps from all around the two. A moment later, a wave of orange sprang forwards in front of Sev, and he peered down to see Riana turning the griffons into carbon with the cone of fire pouring out of her flamer.

A shove in the back sent him stumbling, but this time, he caught his footing, and whirled around to find another griffon with its claws raised above his triangular head.

Ah, shit.

As the thing raked its augmented claws down his helmet, a quick bloom of fiery pain erupted from the right side of his snout, close to his eye. He instinctively fired on sight, quick enough to save his eye – but not quick enough to leave his hide unblemished.

The bird’s chest exploded in a spray of meat, and the griffon separated into two halves. The rear part did not move; but the front still crawled towards him, trailing biological entrails as well as metal tubes.

Sev gripped the thing’s head and flung it down into the torrent of white flame below.

Riana swore. “15 seconds!” she shouted, but Sev was already flinging himself off the pile of boxes he stood on and next to the asari.

She turned, ready to bake him in his own armor, before she recognized his silhouette.

“Back,” Sev growled, firing off another Claymore shot towards the crowd of griffons in front of the two. Riana complied, releasing a short blast of fire, before sprinting for the open doorway that they’d started from.

Sev didn’t run. He couldn’t go as fast as her, and if he turned around, the griffons would take advantage of that by pinning him to the ground with their razor sharp, augmented claws. Edging towards the daylight, he kept shooting, until his peripheral vision caught the muzzle of Riana’s flamer.

The asari had conserved her ammunition relatively well in that encounter; for a rookie, of course. She was breathing hard, he could hear, and the flamethrower shook jerkily in her hands. Sev couldn’t tell whether it was from the afterglow of the adrenaline high she’d just had, or the fear forming in her stomach as she remembered just what she was fighting.

He popped out the thermal clip, before clicking another one in, letting the first roll around on the stone floor of the mineshaft. Through the doorway, black clouds of burnt meat wafted out, towards the afternoon sun. The griffons had chased them all the way to the doorway, and now they were squeezing through the relatively tight mineshaft in hot pursuit, screeching for blood.

Evidently, they’d lost most of their intelligence during their conversion process. The ones out there had kept the ability to plan ambushes – the ones in the ship hold just rushed at them like unthinking husks. Which, come to think of it, they were.

The chokepoint had slowed the griffon rush, but the first few through picked up the pace. By the time Sev and Riana burst out of the mineshaft, turning to flatten themselves against the sides of the cliff, the leader was already in the air, rocketing towards the two with its feathery wings extended as far as the mineshaft would allow. The thing landed at the mouth of the mine’s entrance, nimble as a cat. Unfortunately, Levin’s sights were right over its head, and a burst from his Avenger dropped the griffon husk.

Sev took a quick look around, taking stock of the situation. The shuttle was surrounded by a veritable sea of corpses – all suffering from terminal cases of headshots. Very professional. The shuttle itself hovered in the air, both side doors open, exposing a turian carrying an assault rifle kneeling in the cargo bay.

Flicking his attention back to the mineshaft, the krogan pumped his shotgun once, and whirled around, facing the mineshaft. In his peripheral vision, he could see Riana doing the same, albeit a lot more clumsily.

None too soon. The husks came in droves, every griffin practically jumping on top of its comrade in front in order to get the first strike. Sev rewarded their efforts with a shotgun blast. At this close range, the buckshot punched through multiple griffons, tearing wings, limbs and even heads off. The river of fire gushing out of Riana’s flamer was equally effective, if not more so; in the confined space, the griffon husks had no space to move, and the sticky, 1,600 Kelvin spray burned through their skin in a matter of milliseconds. Feathers burst into flame, eyes exploded, skin fried beneath the torrent of heat and light. Adding to the crescendo of destruction, Levin’s chattering assault rifle spewed bolts of light into the tunnel, although it sounded pitiful next to the thundering booms of the Claymore and the constant roar of the flamethrower.

Riana was the first to run dry, as expected. As the ammo counter of the flamer ticked to zero, the torrent of fire seemed to flicker, before cutting off completely, as if someone had blocked the end of the barrel with a plug. The asari slung the weapon over her shoulder, the barrel still smoking, and sprinted towards the shuttle.

Sev wasn’t faring much better. He’d only got about 6 thermal clips left, giving him approximately 18 consecutive shots before he would be forced to wait for his gun to cool. The other clips he’d left in the ship’s cargo bay itself, lost amongst the boxes as he’d fought the horde. Money-wise, that wasn’t a problem; clips were cheap. But it wasn’t like there were any stores here that sold them.

Levin’s outdated Avenger ran on one of the older style radiators, giving it essentially limitless ammo, but he’d have to manage his rate of fire in order to keep from overloading the gun’s inbuilt cooling capabilities. As far as Sev was concerned, that kind of liability could be lethal. He could attach such a radiator on his own weapon, but the thing was so large that it resembled a magazine from one of the ancient slug-thrower weapons, and he’d still have to wait a few seconds in between shots.

The wave of husks had thinned considerably, but none of them lost their zealotry. For every fallen husk, its comrade behind clambered over the body, fearless and insane, only to lose its life under the fusillade of rounds.

As the last one fell, with its head shorn off, one could suddenly hear nothing but the hiss of the wind. The clinking of the thermal clip as Sev ejected it from his shotgun sounded like a falling door – final and powerful.

-&-

Gilda heard the thunderous booms of the aliens’ weaponry through the blood pounding in her head. Even as she methodically cleared every room on her side of the building, she couldn’t help but feel a pit of dread slowly open up in her stomach. Oddly, she recalled that it was somewhat like the feeling that she’d gotten just before Dash’s revelation; she knew what Dash was going to say, and yet she hoped that she was wrong. It was probably the first time in her life she’d ever hoped for that. Afterwards, she’d thought she would never recover, what with all that moping she went through.

Now, however… she’d prefer that over this, any day.

She couldn’t tell why she felt such dread. It was just a feeling, a guess that took precedent in her mind. Still, she’d learned to trust her guesses. They’d helped her stay alive more than once.

Flickering, dark shapes cross her vision, and Gilda notices that several – no, dozens – of the insane griffons up the town have broken from the relative safety of the houses, towards the mine. Towards the aliens.

That was something of a relief. When the thundering had started, some of the insane had rushed out of cover and towards the scene. She’d been able to lead her team to clear out three more rows than yesterday, in the same period of time. Damn good progress, in her view.

But that spelled a problem. The insane were relatively far away from the soldiers, so the conflict was kept to a minimum. As Gilda and her platoon took back the town, row by row, the soldiers and the remaining insane would get closer and closer, until they would be breathing right down each other’s necks. And that was sure to spell conflict.

Would her soldiers hesitate before firing the shot? She knew she had, the very first time. Back then, after landing in the forest, they’d watched from the shadows as the insane fired upon, clawed at and tore at one another. That was the first time many of them had seen real combat – the first time they’d had to fight for their right to live. And many of them had hesitated. She could see it in their posture. They’d only fired once the crack of a gunshot registered in their minds, and they followed their orders as if they’d separated from their bodies…

Gilda waited for the shouts of “Clear!” before she regrouped with her squad in the middle of the second floor. Luna looked haggard; her eyes had creases around them, and it looked like she’d been sweating for profusely. Hans’s claws were bloody, but he looked as alert as ever, eyes scanning the corners of the room even as he stood tautly, like a stretched string. Anya just sat still and silent, looking at her.

The sun had disappeared behind the mountains, but the rays of light still lit up half the sky in orange, smoothly transitioning into the purple of the other half. Time to rest.

Just as she bade them all to leave and get a good night’s rest, she spotted a cloud of black smoke rolling into the sky, just at the north of the town. Accompanying it was the smell of burning griffon flesh – something she’d thought she’d gotten used to.

Looked like she was wrong.

-&-

The platoon only consisted of 25 soldiers, including the wounded. Most of the griffon soldiers had moved on to the front lines, dragging their supply crates with them as they went. Twilight stayed behind in the medic camp, looking over the wounded soldier. Even with the help of the alien medicine, the rifle wound still looked nasty, and Twilight hovered nervously around the bearer of the wound.

Her brother had gone off to help the griffons in their fighting today, saying something about duty and honor. She’d understood; it would be selfish of them to not help, and as the wounded griffon in front of her showed, sometimes that selfishness could lead to horrible consequences.

Perhaps her brother’s magical shield would prevent any more injuries or deaths. He’d see a lot more violence and death, that was for certain – but it was worth it. At least, he’d thought it was worth it. If he didn’t he would have stayed with her, wouldn’t he?

The griffon mumbled something, and Twilight instantly scooted over to his side, taking care to keep her tail from flicking dust onto the bullet wound. She could see through the orange goo that passed for alien medicine, and inspected the wound for any changes.

The bone was healing slowly, shifting millimeter by millimeter as the goo somehow worked to place it back in its approximate location. Beyond that, she could see dark red blood surge through the gel, somehow linking broken blood vessels together.

She looked back at the wounded griffon, and with a yelp of surprise, noticed that said griffon was staring at her.

The griffon squawked and chirped in his native tongue, before a look of comprehension seemed to cross his face, and he frowned for a bit.

Twilight grinned bashfully. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

The griffon smacked his own face lightly with a claw, and dragged the yellow talons down his face. “Better now?” he asked, after a pause.

Twilight nodded, still blushing.

The griffon tried to prop himself up, placing his forearms on the ground and pushing upwards – but that only ripped a gasp from him as his weaker arm folded, and he tilted awkwardly onto his weaker side.

Twilight stifled a gasp of her own, and lit her horn to attempt to levitate him off the ground.

Nothing happened.

When the magical field encapsulated the griffon’s body, it just… dispersed, like ink in water. She couldn’t get a hold of him.

Thinking quickly, she scooted behind him and gripped the sides of his ribcage with her hooves, lifting him into a sitting position. Magic coursed through her veins, empowering her muscles. Without that, she doubted she’d be able to even drag him.

Panting, she let go as soon as his claws touched the ground. “That could have exacerbated you wounds.”

“No shit,” the griffon replied, hissing, before reaching for his armor. Twilight shunted the metal away to the other side of the tent with her magic. “Hey! What gives?”

“You can’t go out there and fight,” Twilight said, ignoring the cold, sinking feeling of dread as the griffon squinted at her. “You’re still injured.”

The griffon rolled his neck from side to side, before summoning a sarcastic grin. “I can feel that.”

He sighed as Twilight shuffled on her hooves, blush returning in full force. “So, I can’t do anything but sit in here all day, then?”

Twilight chuckled half-heartedly. “Yes. Sorry about that.”

The griffon blinked for a few seconds, before deflating slightly, and chirped out a sequence of sharp bird-calls. Twilight had a hunch that the meaning of those calls weren’t very nice.

Still, she plopped her rump back on the grassy ground, feeling the green blades tickle her skin. This grass weren’t the soft stems that were omnipresent in Equestria, but sharp and tough. The sensation was foreign, but not unwelcome.

The griffon let out a whistle that sounded surprisingly like a hawk’s screech as he continued to stare at the flapping canvas folds that were the door of the tent. Twilight did so too, curious.

The two sat in silence. Twilight started tapping her hindlegs, not sure of what to do. Now that the only patient in the medic tent was conscious, he could handle himself just fine. Indeed, he was stumbling off to the side of the tent, where they kept curious mugs-with-lids. Twilight lit her horn and levitated the mug over to the griffon, stopping it at his claws. At least then he wouldn’t risk an injury.

“Thanks, pony,” the griffon said, sitting back on his black haunches as he used his left claw to pick up and open the lid of the mug in one swift movement. Twilight rubbed the back of her head, happy yet irritated. “My name is Twilight Sparkle.”

“Rolk,” the griffon replied. Twilight presumed that was his name. It would be awkward to ask. Although there was the risk that what he said was an ‘OK’ in his native tongue…

“No last name?” she asked, before clamping both hooves over her mouth. Please let it not be a faux pas!

“Griffons don’t really have a last name,” Rolk replied, confirming Twilight’s guess that what he said earlier was his name. “We just have our birthplace as a ‘last name’. Mine is Clawdor.”

“But there could be multiple griffons of the same name from the same city!” Twilight exclaimed, placing her hooves between her hindlegs. She’d adopted this posture for her years of studying and tuition, and whenever she had something new to learn, she’d always sit like this. In some far-away, detached part of her mind, she noted that it was the same whether in a warzone or a library.

“We also have a family name, but we tend not to use it in public, or unless the situation demands it,” Rolk sighed. Explaining this felt redundant, but still, most ponies were quite xenophobic. Or so he heard. The fact that this one wanted to talk surprised him.

“Why?”

Rolk rolled his eyes. Really? “Say you become a famous personality. And you decide to have a chick. Sorry, a ‘foal’, is that it?”

Twilight nodded wordlessly, feeling a trickle of understanding run down her back. Not enough to turn into an actual theory, but close enough to start hypothesizing.

“Society would expect that foal to become someone like you, Twilight Sparkle. If you were a brilliant musician, society would have your foal be one as well, regardless of whether your foal wants to or not. And that is why we hide our family names. No one should have their fate decided by their name.”

Twilight paused. On the one hand, that seemed like a just move; on the other, she couldn’t fathom how the griffons could handle all the logistical nightmares that came from this scheme. Then she reminded herself that she was looking at this from a pony’s perspective.

“So, Gilda sak Tallis means…” Twilight waved a hoof in the air airily at the end of that sentence, and Rolk watched her for a moment before he realized that she wanted him to finish her sentence. Why didn’t she just ask a normal question?

“Gilda of Tallis. Specifically, Gilda birthed from the ones of Tallis.” Rolk knocked back the mug, letting a river of lukewarm water flow down his beak. Some of it trickled down the side of his yellow beak, and dripped down his grey face like tears. He didn’t mind. He needed a wash, anyways. Come to think of it…

The griffon set down his mug, closing the lid, before leaving it next to his sleeping space – a pile of blankets. A corner of said blankets still had the muddy red stain of blood that they couldn’t get rid of.

He got up onto all fours, tentatively, before hissing and retracting his injured leg. Still, no amount of pain was going to stop him from seeing the outdoors once more. Or getting a wash, for that matter.

Twilight leapt to his side, but stopped short of actually propping him up with her side. Griffons were a proud people, ponies had said, and the short time that Gilda had spent with them had kind of proved that. Still, he really looked like he needed help…

Rolk ignored Twilight’s mental arguments as he pushed his head out of the tent, his eagle eyes taking in every last detail; every empty cartridge casing on the ground, every tuft of earth pulled out alongside tent-poles, every cold stone surrounding long-dead campfires. They’d gone.

The sound of gunfire hadn’t. The lines had moved forwards. He’d been left behind. A casualty, useless and unfit for battle.

Twilight popped her head out alongside him, wondering why he’d just stopped in the doorway.

Rolk growled like a lion, and Twilight jumped back, shaking involuntarily as adrenaline rushed through her. She didn’t really know what had happened – all she had done was come up to him. It must have been a bad time.

Without another sound, the griffon slunk out of the tent, limping mildly. Twilight waited for a few seconds before following. Rolk would appreciate the gesture. She was here to help, after all, and she was going to do that her way. Not the nasty killing out in the streets, but the healing of others who had been hurt.

  Luna must have really changed. One thousand years on the moon… nopony recovers from that just with a hit from a powerful spell. Even if the form is changed, the mind is not.

Rolk waded into a relatively flat section of the river. He’d stayed close to the shorebank – getting washed away would be lethal – and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of icy water crashing against the scales and fur of his legs. How he’d missed that.

He lay down, careful to keep his wound out of the water. The alien gel was working better than he’d thought, but he didn’t want to test its limits yet. Spreading out a wing, he could feel the flowing water gently caress the undersides, sending jolts of pleasure to his brain. It was almost like flying. He didn’t know how much he’d missed that.

Rolk noticed Twilight hovering awkwardly by the riverbank, most likely fearful of getting in the water. Her choice. The griffon ignored her, focusing on the now-foreign sensations that jetted up from his limbs. Oh, how long had he been injured?

Injured… he remembered a stabbing, fiery pain explode from his shoulder, right before he fell, and then Svetlana’s face appeared, blocking out the moonlight. In that instance, though, she was just as beautiful as the moon.

He couldn’t remember anything else after that. Waking up in the medical tent with the newcomers… well, at least he didn’t hurt as much as he should. Svet was missing, though… where was she then?

Where was she now?

Rolk shot upright in the blink of an eye, ignoring the flaring pain in his shoulder and the image of Twilight leaping backwards, and rocketed off towards the medic tent in a wing-assisted leap.

At the front lines. Rolk cursed himself for his own stupidity. If he hadn’t poked his head over the barricade at that exact moment –

No use now, he thought, roughly donning the armor and tightening the straps. His rifle lay on the ground, unloaded. He still had the army’s standard-issue bayonet in one of his armor’s pockets, along with about 20 cartridges. That would have to do.

He shoved roughly past Twilight as she entered the same time he exited, and ignored the unicorn’s cries of complaint. If she got overwhelmed, and he wasn’t out there, watching her back –

No. Don’t think about that. You don’t know yet.

He launched himself off the grassy ground, shooting for the nearby rooftop. His shoulder throbbed with fire for each wingbeat, but for once, he was happy for it. That showed what was at stake. Should she die, it would hurt a lot more.

Normally, he wouldn’t have chosen to travel via rooftop-hopping. It was much too exposed – a griffon lunatic from the far end of the town could see his silhouette and open fire, but he figured the risk was worth it. Time was of the essence, and furthermore, he’d be moving faster than the mad griffons could aim.

Twilight’s cries dissolved into murmurs in the wind as air rushed past what passed for his ears, and he ignored the requests and demands that she was probably sprouting. He had to do this. 

The purple unicorn herself slowed down as Rolk vanished into the rooftops. He’d gone that way to deliberately lose her – what happened? Had she offended him? Did he think she was trying to poison him, harm him; or worse, court him?

Twilight shoved more energy into her muscles, attempting to ignore the surroundings and her own rogue thoughts, though that came down to a tug-of-war; when she tried to ignore one, she’d focus on the other. And she wasn’t looking forwards to seeing what carnage the griffon soldiers had inflicted upon their own people.

A small part of her examined her reaction as she cantered along, spotting flashes of grey and black in the blue sky. She’d never thought of herself as that kind of mare – Rarity would be the first pony that crossed her mind – but she couldn’t deny that there was something attractive about getting a lover. Maybe it was just her scientific side, begging for a new experiment. But a griffon!

Lost in her thoughts, Twilight stumbled as her hoof caught on a slight depression in the grassland. She skidded a short distance before stopping, sprawled out on the grass. 

Above her, the sky was lit up in purple and orange – the source of her name. It would be night soon, and she remembered Gilda’s advice; sticking around others would keep you safe, but being alone was likely a death sentence. Twilight couldn’t detect any sarcasm in that. This new Gilda was completely serious.

Shivering, she lit her horn in order to better illuminate her surroundings. Griffon bodies lay piled against the housing like macabre decorations, and Twilight was sure that the grey walls behind them were splattered black with blood. She instantly galloped forwards, towards the cracks of gunfire up ahead, all the while trying to keep her insides in place.

Rolk, meanwhile, could hear the pops of gunfire ahead as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop. Good thing griffons built their houses with a flat roof. He skidded a bit on the flat metal, and then jumped diagonally towards one of the buildings on the left, going for the westernmost building of the front line.

With several quick squawks to identify himself, Rolk flew through a window at the back of the building in front of him, hitting the floor with a clatter of claw against metal. He could see that the room hadn’t been partitioned – it was just one large space that looked suspiciously like a bedroom before things went to Tartarus. A bed, pulled onto its side, was shoved up against a wall, blocking off a window; the other window had about 3 griffons all aiming through it. One of those griffons had broken off, and kept to cover as he looked back at Rolk.

“Idiot,” he chirped happily, pointing a talon at Rolk’s wounded shoulder. “Where’s the nurse?”

Several Equestrian yelps from below answered that for Rolk, and the other griffon jerked a talon back at the window. “Hold the line for me, eh?”

Rolk nodded, embarrassed, and hobbled over to the window, resting the end of the rifle on the wooden sill. He could hear the other griffon launch off the floor with a clack.

Twilight stopped at the wall, looking upwards at the window where Rolk’s black cat’s tail had disappeared into. She’d lost him. She’d failed a task as simple as this.

A griffon popped out of the window, and Twilight’s heart soared; but when she realized that it wasn’t Rolk, but some griffon she hadn’t met, she plummeted once again into the depths of despair. No doubt this griffon was here to tell her off. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

The griffon’s clacking beak right next to her drew her out of her self-scolding. “You Rolk’s nurse?” he asked, pulling on the strap holding his gun to his back. Then, he held out his arms, as if for a hug. Twilight nodded, and then slowly embraced the griffon, obviously unsure of what to do.

She yelped as the griffon clamped his arms around her. The ground plummeted away from her, and she could distinctly feel her stomach shoved down into her hips, as her hindlegs met no resistance from the earth. Scared, she clamped her hooves around the griffon’s neck, mashing her face into his feathery chest.

The world went upside down for a moment, and Twilight saw her surroundings rotate all around her, before stopping suddenly. While she waited for her eyes to readjust, she felt a hard surface meet the back of her legs and rump, and then noticed the lack of any furry arms wrapped around her.

And then she found out that she still had her own forelegs wrapped around the feathery neck of the griffon in front of her, who was now looking both amused and annoyed at the same time.

Giggling nervously, she released her captive, who quickly backed away, withdrew his rifle, and got back to work.

Rolk stumbled over, smiling. “Apologies. My friend is in another building.” He nodded to the east.

Twilight growled. “What were you thinking? You’re injured! You can’t go out there!”

Rolk stopped her with a raised claw. “But I did. And I would. I won’t leave my friends hanging.” Hobbling over to the eastern windows, he flexed his wings experimentally. Now that the adrenaline had worn off somewhat, the lances of pain shooting down his arm and up his spine intensified, and he swore.

He would do this. He had to.

He turned towards the pony, who was gaping at him, and for a few milliseconds he thought that there was an enemy behind him – but he pushed that out of his mind, once he remembered that they’d cleared the row. Still, it would be safer to check.

He whirled his head around, and found nothing, as he’d expected. The grey metal wall of the house opposite stared back at him emotionlessly. Looking back inside the house, he found Twilight, with narrowed eyes, glaring at him.

Rolk sighed. “Do you want a lift getting over there” he asked, pointing to the next building.

Twilight shook her head, and with a flash of light, she disappeared. Rolk’s ears could pick up the pop of magic, and the rush of air into the vacuum once occupied by the unicorn.

She’d teleported away. Gritting his beak, he flexed his flight muscles once, getting a gauge for the level of pain he’d undergo. It wasn’t crippling, by any means, but it wouldn’t be nice either. Still, he wasn’t going to give up.

With a grunt, he launched himself out of one window and into the other, wincing as he landed.

Twilight was already standing next to him, having teleported through the other window, and she sighed as the griffon wobbled a bit on landing. “I know your friends are important to you. But they wouldn’t want to see you hurt yourself for them.”

Rolk shrugged. “Perhaps. But if they’re dead, they can’t feel sorrow. I’d rather we all make it out alive, unhappy or not.”

Twilight grumbled under her breath, but she didn’t stop the griffon from hobbling over to the windows facing north. A certain white female griffon turned to face him as she took cover.

Twilight herself attempted to ignore the conversation between them – a few words suggested things of an intimate nature – and focused on her maelstrom of thoughts, attempting to pick one out of the metaphorical hurricane in her head.

Rolk was right. A friend’s disappointment would mean nothing if that same friend ended up dead, with a bullet through the brain. At the same time, though, that act implied a lack of trust in one another; not a good sign of a healthy relationship. But did that really matter? He’d made his own choice to come out here, in order to help another friend out. Just like herself, when Applejack denied any help during harvest season; she’d gone anyways, multiple times, annoying her friend even though she’d been told by that same friend to just go away. And it had turned out alright in the end.

Bonds of trust get stronger when they are tested, she’d concluded. So why did she stop him? The wound wasn’t lethal, she thought, grimacing as she recalled the bloody image in her mind. It would just hurt a ridiculous amount.

Friends should care for one another. In this case, if that axiom was correct, then Rolk should have stayed in the medic tent. His friend didn’t want to see him hurt. But that also meant that Rolk should have gone over to help out, even if that meant suffering pain. These were life-or-death decisions, and for those, there were no hard-or-fast rules. Twilight would have known.

Shaking her head free of the conundrums that she’d presented herself with, she focused on casting a shield spell to blanket the griffons in the building.

-&-

Levin had once again elected to wait outside, cradling his Avenger as he knelt in the middle of the shuttle’s cargo bay. The said shuttle sat on its undercarriage, on top of a landscape of corpses; not exactly a stable area. After a moment of deliberation, Riana had chosen to accompany her turian friend outside. A smart choice, given that she was effectively useless in a combat scenario without her flamer.

Sev had cleared the tunnel of corpses now, dragging each burnt carcass out into the light of the day. Some of the bodies had been reduced to ash and limbs – those, he simply left in place. He could wade through that with little problem.

His task was to go through the maze of rubble inside the dead spaceship, clearing it of any survivors, before one of the two would come by to scavenge through the wreckage. Simple enough.

Stepping into the darkness once again, he activated the night-vision software suite, as well as his suit’s floodlights, letting the harsh white light pour into the cavernous hold.

The path ahead, flanked on both sides by tall, spire-like support columns, seemed like the best way to go. Deliberately stomping on the metal ground as he went, he walked forwards, ignoring the slight specks of matter floating downwards from the ceiling.

Wait…

He looked up. There wasn’t anything of note – just a clump of what appeared to be fungal matter in a state of advanced decomposition. It covered the entire ceiling without order or reason. Nature never did anything to reason.

Sev considered letting loose a blast at it from his shotgun, but then shook that desire off. It wouldn’t do anything more than weaken the ship, at best. At worst, the plant could be some sort of alien that would end up taking control of his mind. Eh, he’d seen weirder things. Rachni working on the Crucible project, for example.

Sev’s errant thoughts got shoved to the back of his head as he neared a tumbled mess of boxes blocking the path in front of him. It looked like it had once been stacked in a nice column; now, the whole thing looked like a line of fallen dominoes.

He pushed down on the closest box, feeling it shift beneath his palms. That was no good. That meant the whole thing would start moving with him on top, and then he’d be boxed in under a mountain of, well, boxes.

Not one of the nicest ways to die. Nor the most fun.

Sev looked to the sides, where the boxes that made up the landscape seemed more settled. There, sitting nonchalantly on the floor of boxes, was a small black object.

Sev would recognize that anywhere. On many of his missions with the Alliance’s N7 Ops, his team would often be called to ‘deactivate’ these things. They took a different shape all the time, but they all shared a common trait – the black coloring, and the dread that they instilled in any onlooker.

It looked oddly peaceful, just sitting there. Any other person could have passed it off as a part of the ship’s construction, or a data core. The griffons that opened the door to this ship probably had. 

Sev raised the gun, and fired a shot straight at the thing, briefly illuminating the surrounding area in warm orange-white light. As the smoke cleared, he came closer to take stock of the damage.

Considering that his Claymore rounds could pierce Atlas armor, the fact that the device wasn’t a crumpled mess was astonishing. True, it had a few dents in it – obviously from where the buckshot had connected with the casing – but aside from that, it looked the same as before. Sev sighed, and jammed the Reaper object between the shotgun muzzle and the metallic side of a nearby box, before pulling the trigger. Twice.

Venting the thermal clip and slotting in a new one, he listened for the click-clack of griffon claw-on-metal. There was none. If they had heard him, they weren’t responding.

Whatever Shepard had done, he’d destroyed or deactivated all Reaper objects in the known galaxy, and so this device couldn’t call for help from its thralls, no matter the damage it took. Fine by Sev.

Now he was getting somewhere. The side facing the shotgun barrel had disintegrated into shards of Reaper metal, and Sev didn’t bother looking at what was inside. Any look, and he could go mad. It wasn’t a risk worth taking.

Three more shotgun blasts punctuated the silence of the ancient ship’s cargo hold.

-&-

Riana looked up as the clanking steps of her krogan employee got louder and louder. Levin hadn’t been as good of a conversation partner as she’d hoped – it was like his personality had dissipated into the smoky air, leaving only his combat instincts.

“Destroyed the artifact,” Sev said nonchalantly, leaning back against the cliff face once he’d gone out of the cramped mineshaft. “Nothing else I could see.”

The other two nodded briefly, before slipping into the mine. As soon as they were gone, Sev sighed, and slid down the side of the cliff until he was essentially sitting on his tail. A nearby griffon corpse caught his eye, and he kicked it away, letting it spill its innards onto the blood-blackened grass.

He couldn’t pilot the shuttle now; Levin had retracted his control privileges, so the turian himself was the only one that the shuttle allowed to fly. He felt useless, sitting out here. Hungry, too.

But nope. Someone had to watch the entrance. Fighting through a crowd to get to the extraction point was never a good idea. And he lacked enough ammo for another bout of shooting.

A sparkle from a griffon corpse nearby drew his eye, and the krogan hefted himself up, and then walked over to the corpse, before kneeling back down. It was just the sun’s reflection on the artificial brain-spine connection, but suddenly, he knew what to do.

The Reaper construct was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Pulling the spine of the dead griffon away from the flesh, Sev could see how the metal looped around the spine in intricate patterns, sometimes following the path down the vertebrae, sometimes branching off into two different paths that tugged at the dead muscle.

This was primitive husk material. The flesh wasn’t cybernetic at the cellular level, but it was roughly stabbed at by the Reaper wiring, looking like primitive electrodes. The wires had missed the nerves completely, according to a close scan of his omni-tool, choosing to thread deep into each muscle fiber. It was like a secondary brain, connected to the first through the most rudimentary of neurological connections. No wonder the symptoms of madness took days to emerge.

Still, it was a brain. A mechanical, dead one, but still a brain. Sev wrenched the wire as hard as he could, and the metal finally detached from the muscles with a cringe-worthy ripping sound. This cybernetic brain dwarfed even the smallest, most advanced Prothean AI supercomputers, and there was no doubt in his mind that someone would pay highly for it. He only hoped that he’d survive the deal.

Shaking his misgivings away, he stuffed the machine brain inside a compartment in his suit, and stood guard.

-&-

Town Hall stood proudly at the center of the town, and Gilda stifled a whistle as she gazed upon the tall spire-like construction.

Pony influences were clear in the flatter, more rectangular base of the hall. Likely, that had been for the administrative staff. Everyone had to have access – including the crippled, the young, and the elderly – and so, it was designed as a place where no one with legs would have a problem getting to.

The building narrowed into a spire, with the top being a small wooden platform, hemmed in from all sides by wooden planks. Below, small perches allowed the guards of any important visitor to stand guard, or allowed other speakers to sit before being called up to the platform when it was their turn.

It was the peak that was most interesting. Anyone there would have an overview of the entire area. It had been impossible to hold that position earlier, since the path up was horrendously exposed; but now, the soldiers controlled the south side of the town, and anyone flying up from that side would be safe. Gilda hoped.

She motioned to Anya, who did a quick salute, before affixing the extended barrel to the threaded muzzle of her rifle. After a moment, the griffon unfolded her grey wings and took off.

Hans was watching her go, Gilda saw out of the corner of her eye. But the lieutenant herself ignored that tidbit of info. She’d seen that the Town Hall had two floors; one for the public, one for the government. It would be the second floor that would prove problematic, she knew. Whereas the first was essentially a flat gathering area for the townsfolk, the second would be split into many different rooms, and each corner could be hiding something nasty.

Luna’s magic could shield them from gunfire, but the griffon race’s magically resistant bodies meant that she couldn’t stop their melee attacks. That same pony, however, could use her magic to pick up any random object and fling it at enemies to stop their advance. Gilda doubted how effective that would be, but in her situation, she couldn’t afford to be choosy.

Three of the houses were behind the Town Hall, and the massive building had blocked sightlines from those houses, cutting down the effectiveness of the soldiers inside. Still, she needed at least one set of soldiers to cover the multitude of windows that lined the south-side of the Town Hall. The other two, however, could help her breach…

In the space of ten seconds, Gilda had thought up a quick plan, and nodded to Hans, instructing her subordinate to fetch the soldiers in the east house. She went for the west house herself.

As Gilda burst through the window, identifying herself, she saw two things. One: the wounded griffon back at base had somehow managed to get himself here, and had his rifle propped up against the windowsill, looking outwards. Two: Twilight Sparkle, that griffon’s caretaker.

She ignored the pony for the first part. Rolk was her subordinate, her responsibility. “Tartarus, Rolk! Do you have a death wish?”

Ignoring the hitched breaths of the unicorn behind her, Gilda rounded on the grey-black griffon, who seemed to wilt in her gaze. Idiot deserved it. Nevertheless, he spoke. “Lieutenant, I wish to contribute to the war effort. I couldn’t do that, stuck back at base.”

Left eye twitching angrily, Gilda resisted the urge to roar in frustration, and turned that same anger into a cold, calculating mindset. Rolk was here now, and by ordering him back, she’d strain the wound even more. If he really wanted to ‘contribute’ as it were, he could do so as a sniper.

Gilda sighed, and pointed her talon at the center house. “Go there and snipe.”

She turned towards the other two griffons holding the house. One of them, a solidly white griffon, seemed anxious to see Rolk go, and Rolk wasn’t moving as quickly as he could’ve been. It was a serious injury, but he’d braved the way here from base, and this was just a small jump…

Gilda felt oddly conflicted now. On the one claw, she felt a small, vindictive glee at watching his reaction when she plucked his girlfriend for her team. On the other claw, he would fight better if he had a reminder of what he was fighting for, right by his side. Besides, Svetlana wasn’t really the best CQC combatant in the platoon.

Gilda sighed, and nodded quickly to the white griffon. “You go with him as well.”

Turning back to the last one, who’d stood by ignored the whole time, she spoke. “Stav, you’re with me. Go to the Princess down on the streets.”

Of course, she’d have to pluck out two soldiers from the central house, as well. It wouldn’t do good to come unprepared.

A short while later, Gilda returned, with two soldiers in tow. None of them looked happy, but Hans supposed that was the reality of the job. Making tough decisions.

Hans stood by the Princess, who had covered each new arrival in a coating of purplish magic. Since the magic wasn’t used on them, but on the air around them, they could all feel its presence. It was like wearing a full set of wooly clothes.

The white-grey griffon checked his knife absentmindedly, seeing every imperfection on its scratched blade. He’d have to get a new one soon. This one had a bloody enough history, and besides, those new alloyed steel blades looked a lot nicer…

With a hard whump, the Lieutenant landed, and gave out her orders. Standard clearing policy, he thought. The upper floor was simply a long corridor that was flanked by many, many doors. In terms of design, it was simple; but in a soldier’s eye, it was a nightmare. Opening one door would leave the breaching team vulnerable to any other hostile that popped out of the other doors at that specific moment. Not to mention that the rooms could have doors to one another as well. 

Two good shots would remain at the junction between the corridor and the staircase. The closest two doors would be breached at the same time, with the main idea being to split the enemy forces in half, as well as to force them out of the rooms furthest away from the two allocated snipers. That way, the snipers wouldn’t be overwhelmed, and neither would they miss under the pressure of close quarters combat.

Time to put it to the test, Gilda thought, as she reached the busted staircase. Hans would be leading teams to breach the northern rooms, whilst she’d be doing to southern ones. Hopefully, the center house snipers would have taken out some of the enemies.

The top floor looked even more unkempt than she’d thought. Some doors had been turned into splinters, their pieces littering the floor of the corridor. There was no source of light at all, since no one had the mental capacity to refuel the lanterns set at the sides of the corridor. Still, her cat-eagle eyes could pick up any sort of movement, and so far, the only thing she’d seen moving was a small piece of paper fluttering in the wind.

Stepping out into the corridor with her rifle pressed against her shoulder, she regarded the situation. Dimly, she heard the muffled slump of two griffon bodies lying down – the snipers were getting into position – as well as Hans’ mutterings, and the scrape of metal against metal. Luna was to stay by the snipers, providing them all with magical barriers. The Princess had a tough job, she knew, and she didn't want her barriers to waver by having the Princess lose concentration halfway through a breach.

Time to go.

Gilda tested the door – griffon doors tended to swing outwards, as to maximize space inside – which kicked up a cloud of dust, and found herself facing the corner of what appeared to be an office. Swinging around, she swept the right side of the room, and the pitter-patter of paws told her that her team was doing the same to the right and center.

Nothing.

“Clear!” she yelled, before rummaging through the area for ammo. They’d passed the corpse of an official on the floor below, his brains blown out by a bullet. The more important thing was that he was holding a gun, which implied ammo. Gilda had heard rumors that all government officials were given weapons of their own – shortened versions of their rifles, firing the same bullets – and that body had proved it. She found what she was looking for in the bottom drawer of the desk; a standard box of 50 rounds.

Hans’s side had yelled “Clear!” as well, but she’d brushed it to the back of her mind, focusing on what she had to do. There hadn’t been any shots yet, which meant that the snipers couldn’t find targets. That could change as the griffon sweep teams got further down the corridor.

Speak of the devil. A distinct explosion sounded from somewhere high above; Anya’s sniper perch. One less enemy.

They met again, opening the doors at the same time, and with a quick nod, they moved along the walls towards the next pair of doors.

Pressing her ears to the wood, she could hear sounds of claw against wood. It was mild, sure – but it was there. And that was the important bit.

Flicking open the door with the end of her rifle, she turned around the corner of the doorway, and came face-to-face with the bloody beak of an insane griffon.

She fired on instinct. At this range, the shot shattered the skull, and Gilda swore she could see white-red chunks of bone and flesh explode around the bullet hole as the enemy’s head snapped backwards. Blinking, she realized that she’d also gotten a faceful of gore, and her eyes were starting to tear up; but she wouldn’t neglect her duty. She’d signed up for this, and she was going to succeed in her mission.

Rushing down the left side of the room, once again, she found nothing but another desk, with the body of a griffon draped on the top. This one was half-eaten.

Gilda had seen something like this before, so she managed to hold her juices inside her stomach, but it appeared that the other snipers hadn’t. She heard the retching of her teammates just as the vile taste of bile wafted up her insides.

Hans’s yell of “Clear!” registered in the back of her head, and once again, she blinked away the specks of gore that had gotten in her eyes. It was easier to bear, now, but she’d need to wash it out sooner or later.

Evidently, that would be sooner. One of her teammates, Stav, tossed her a metal canteen that she just caught. She fumbled with the cap, before wrenching it off and pouring the innards over her eyes.

As she let the water run off with the blood that had been in her eyes, she gave Stav a smile, which he returned, and handed him back his canteen. She must have looked like a mess – streaked red with blood, beak dripping with small strings of someone else’s gore. Still, it wouldn’t hinder her ability to do her job, and that was the important part.

Gilda nodded, more to herself than to anyone else, and locked in another round, just as a crack of gunfire sounded from the south. The center house snipers were doing their jobs, at last.

The next room she checked was empty, but the sound of a nearby shot and Hans’s screech told her that its northern counterpart wasn’t. They’d planned for this – everyone was to check their own room first, and deal with their own problems and enemies before helping out. Running back out, Gilda reloaded on the fly, before taking aim into the room.

One body lay on the floor, skull blown apart by a speeding rifle bullet, but that wasn’t important. The second enemy griffon spat blood from its beak, drooling all the while, and Gilda could see the clean incision in its neck spurting blood all over the second team leader.

Hans was holding out quite well, for someone fighting what seemed like a possessed corpse. He was blocking the thing’s blows with the side of his rifle, which he held like a staff. But he was running out of time. Another downwards slash, and Gilda could see flakes of wood shower downwards from the rifle’s failing body.

His teammates fired, filling the room with white smoke. Gilda squinted, making out the two shapes still struggling, and aimed her own rifle.

And then Hans’s rifle snapped in half, sending both griffons tumbling to the floor.

Gilda swore under her breath. She couldn’t fire, not without the fear of hitting her friend. Wedging her rifle between two cupboards, she unfurled her wings, ignoring the jets of pain when their tips hit the walls. With a grunt, she pushed the smoke out of the broken northern window.

Hans scrabbled backwards, from beneath the slumped form of a bloodied griffon, his claws bloody and grasping a long knife. Groaning, he pushed himself upright into a sitting position, and kicked away the body with his cat’s legs.

Gilda scanned the room for a moment longer, but after determining that nothing else was out of place, she rushed to her friend’s side. Even with her basic battlefield medical knowledge, she could tell that the diagnosis wasn’t good.

“Shit,” Hans spluttered, grimacing, as he tried to wipe away the blood from his feathers with his bloodied claws. “Too fast, too strong. So fast…”

Gilda placed a claw on one of his forearms, and he stopped, yet his arms kept twitching. She sighed as she went for her own water canteen, strapped to her thigh. As the sanguine water rolled off of his body, Gilda could see the full extent of the damage that he’d gone through. His plate armor had been torn into ribbons, with deep furrows that stretched from the middle of his neck to the chest area of the steel plate. By the looks of it, the enemy’s claws hadn’t been impeded at all by Hans’s armor. The steel had just parted like butter, and Gilda bet that it had about the same protective qualities as the soft yellow substance to these hardened claws.

She growled a bit, trying to vent her frustration. One down. One of her best, out of action.

The aliens and their magical healing gel weren’t right by her side. She’d need bandages at the very least, and they were all in the lines behind. Open wounds spelled infection, and that killed more griffons than the actual wounds.

But the more prevalent danger, currently, was the remaining enemy in the Town Hall. With one breaching team suffering a casualty, as well as, devoid of a leader, Gilda knew she had a problem. She looked back at the snipers lying down at the end of the corridor, both of whom seemed to be in their own little worlds. Behind them, Luna stood, her horn glowing and her face creased in concentration.

“Princess!” Gilda screeched, letting a bit of her own tongue into the Equestrian. “You’re in a clearing team!”

The pony’s eyes widened in surprise, and her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Gilda rolled her eyes and sighed menacingly. “Princess, you’re going under Sig. Sig, you’re team leader now.”

Sig smiled nervously and saluted. Gilda turned away from him and waited for Luna to arrive; when she didn’t, Gilda snarled. “Luna, get in here!”

The aforementioned Princess complied, albeit slowly and reluctantly, but gasped audibly when she came across the bleeding form of Hans lying supine on the dusty wooden floor. She stared at him, only glancing at Gilda when the latter spoke.

“Listen to Sig, he’ll brief you,” the griffon lieutenant said gruffly, looking around the room for any spare pieces of cloth. A dusty curtain hung from a slanted rail above the window, and Gilda leapt for it, barging through the surprised members of the other breaching team. She’d apologize later. Cutting the curtain off the rail with a slash of her talons, she bounded back to her wounded comrade, slamming the curtain against the wall as she stopped. Ignoring the dust kicked up by her blow, she set about unbuckling his armor, undoing the straps with practiced efficiency, and removing the cloth undershirt to the best of her ability. There were some torn strips caught within the wound – those she ignored, fearful of doing more harm than good in attempting to remove them. Sig’s stilted, awkward words floated to the back of her head as she occupied the fore of her mind with her battlefield medical training.

Hans’s muted yelp went unheard by Gilda, but everyone else winced, and the shifting shadows almost broke the lieutenant’s concentration. Almost. Even as the bloody water trickled out of the lacerations, Gilda folded the undershirt into what she hoped would be an airtight wad, and the curtain into a long piece of dressing.

“Exhale, Hans!” she screeched, reverting to their native tongue. Hans wasn’t that good at language, she knew; she’d spent a long time getting to know her platoon. He’d better not die on her.

Weakly, Hans followed her order, and Gilda listened to his sputtering coughs as he attempted to expel all the air from his chest cavity. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

Dimly, she was aware of the double percussion of gunshots from somewhere nearby. The snipers must have found a target. She smiled grimly.

When she thought he’d done as much as he could – she’d never seen an adult’s griffon’s chest that compact before – she shoved the remains of his undershirt on the wound. Folded the way it was, the thing should be airtight; good enough for field medicine. No, it wasn’t good enough. It was barely passable. But it was all she could get, right now. Or was it?

“Luna, airtight cloth!” she barked, and the Princess instantly conjured up a piece of sparkling fabric that was large enough to make a dress with. Right now, she didn’t care. Snatching the cloth out of the air with nary a word, she pressed it against the seeping wounds on Hans’s chest. To his credit, the male griffon clasped the seal to his chest, but Gilda could see that the grip wasn’t as strong as normal.

The curtain had been cut into three strips, and Gilda set about using one of them to tie the seal down to his chest. As she looped the tough fabric around his body, she could hear him hiss, attempting to clamp down on a yell and hide how much pain he was in. It wasn’t working.

She grunted as she turned her friend onto his side. He was heavy for a griffon, even without his armor. Must have been mostly muscle.

After tying a quick nonslip knot, Gilda absently wiped her bloody claws on her chest feathers. A glance downwards confirmed that her neck area was still stained red with what used to be some griffon’s brain. She was running out of space to wipe her hands.

Continuing to bind the seal to her friend’s form with the other two strips of curtain cloth, she could dimly hear Sig stop talking. The sudden silence struck her like a blast of cold water, and she stole a glance towards them.

They looked back, obviously nervous and confused. Well, except for Luna. She still wore that expression of disgust. Gilda turned her attention back to her work, and pressed her ear-hole to Hans’s chest. It looked like he was still having trouble breathing normally, but that would have to do. Shit, he’d need to be carried home to Asgard. Or at least have frequent breaks in between bouts of flight.

Throwing a glance around the doorway, Gilda came across an empty corridor, with the body of a griffon slumped at the far end. The head simply appeared to have disintegrated. She felt an odd glee at that sight. It was quickly replaced by shame and horror.

“I’ll be back after we finish,” she said to Hans, who was now mercifully asleep. Gilda propped him against the wall, making sure that he was sleeping on his side, and let loose a tiny smile.

The pooling blood from the dead griffon in her own room had grown to reach the opposite wall, and Gilda grimaced as she felt the blood stick to her hind-paws, as if it wanted to glue her to the floor. As she and her team lined up against another door – the penultimate one on this side – she felt the long-dormant rage in her explode into the fore, and growled.

For Hans.

She flung open the door so hard that the hinges creaked. The muzzle of her rifle swept the room, its wielder aiming down the sights all the while. Nothing. The absence of an enemy seemed to mock her – just when she got into the mood for killing, there’d be nothing to kill. Nothing to vent her rage on.

Snarling, she kicked at the desk in the center of the room, sending the thing sliding back a few feet with a nasty scraping sound; but more importantly, revealing the griffon hiding underneath.

With a wide grin, Gilda wrenched her rifle until the barrel roughly faced the griffon’s head, before pulling the trigger.
> Chapter 17
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 17

--

Need to look. Need to see. Accept it as necessary. – Dr. Mordin Solus, 2185 CE

--

Gilda knelt by Hans. By her side, the Princess fretted, incessantly pacing back and fro over the same patch of wooden floor. The blood pooled on the floor had congealed into a sticky black paste as day turned into night, and the sound of Luna’s hooves pulling on the sticky fluid, like that of sticky tape pulled off wood, was quickly driving her up the wall.

One of the bodies that had been the cause of the massive pool of blood around her feet had been dragged away. Gilda didn’t care where. Not now, when that body was the reason why her friend was bleeding out onto the floor.

She heard the whine of the alien shuttle as the contraption slowly lifted itself upwards on blue jets of flame, before screaming over her head, no doubt going back to Equestria, and back to their vessel.

She was a little annoyed when the unnatural screaming didn’t disappear, as she thought it would. Instead, it just seemed to stay right over her head, as if taunting her. If they were going to go and leave someone bleeding out, then they could at least stop that infernal whine.

Or, if they were going to stay, then she could get some of their meds…

She padded out to the windows, seeing the white, angular aircraft hover for a moment near the grassy ground, before the sound cut out and the shuttle hit the grass with a thump.

Why were they back? Weren’t they finished?

Gilda shook the thoughts out of her head. She needed that gel, and damn it if she wasn’t going to get any. They’d loaded Hans up with fast-working anesthetic, but without a tight seal, he was going to suffocate on the flight back. The current seal was already soaked red with blood, and clung to Hans’s body uncomfortably; worse, the griffon had started to scratch at it in his sleep, threatening to expose his punctured chest cavity to the unforgiving world.

“Hey!” Gilda called out as the shuttle’s side slid open into two parts, revealing the cramped space inside. Creepy, but she couldn’t care less now. “I need medicine!”

Luna appeared alongside her, with a door trailing in her wake. It looked like it had been torn off its hinges; the wood finishing on one side was splintered, and the metal flap that connected the door to the wall hung loosely. More importantly, she’d somehow managed to get Hans to lie down on top of the makeshift stretcher.

One of the shorter, skinnier aliens retreated back into the hold, but the big one stayed outside, leaning against the side of the shuttle without a care in the world. He still had his weapon out, though.

The shorter one returned, with the turian in her wake. The latter alien held some kind of cylinder in his claws.

Luna carefully pushed the stretcher out into the air, squinting as she kept it parallel to the ground. Gilda launched herself out of the building, holding one end of the door steady as it slowly floated to the ground.

She felt a shadow fall over her, and looked up to see Levin, face hidden behind his helmet, looming over the two of them with the cylinder in one hand. She backed off instinctively, but kept an eye on him as he did his work.

Pressing the fabric wad to Hans’s chest with one claw, the turian flicked his other wrist, summoning an orange blade-like thing out of his magical glove. Surgery? Gilda’s feathers fluffed out automatically – if he was to harm her friend…

Evidently not. The alien cut the curtain bindings away with three short flicks of the wrist, and waited for the exhalation. That was good. That meant that he understood griffon physiology, so he wouldn’t do more harm than good.

As Hans’s chest fell to its lowest level, the turian removed the wad sealing his chest, and examined the three slashes in milliseconds. The cylinder he’d been holding had somehow unfolded itself until it looked like a pistol, with a conical orange nozzle taking the place of the muzzle. A hiss of orange gas blasted out, with two more following in quick succession. And that was that; Levin simply stood up again, and headed back towards her.

“Any more?” he asked. His odd voice didn’t make him seem any less creepy, but then again, he wasn’t of this world. Tartarus, even ponies looked creepy. They were like pudgy marshmallows with legs. Most of them didn’t even look like they had muscles. Still, he’d helped a lot, and that was enough in Gilda’s book.

Gilda shook her head, and he began to turn around towards the shuttle.

“Wait!” she called out, all of a sudden. What am I doing? Levin turned around to face her, meeting her side-on. Good enough. “What was that back there? We saw dozens of griffons heading towards you.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Our help,” the turian said cryptically, before pointing towards the north. “You’ll find that your jobs will now be easier.”

And with that, he simply returned to the shuttle. The asari followed him, but the massive krogan stayed outside, watching as the sky fell into the late afternoon. Only the sharp hiss of some mechanism of the aircraft pushed him into motion.

Odd. Sev never struck her as a star-gazer. Maybe he was simply taking a rest.

She turned her attention back to her teammate. The orange gel coating his wounds was relatively clear, allowing her a decent view of how much damage Hans had taken. It was worse than she’d thought. The base of his neck had been lacerated, and she thought she could see an exposed vein leaking blood through a tiny hole. The chest had been similarly torn open. Bones were exposed to her vision, the white jutting out from the reddish pink flesh. Through the gaps in the ribcage, she thought could see his muscles, moving slowly as Hans shifted slightly in his sleep. So close. So close to death.

Struck by a sudden bout of tenderness, she sat by him and patted his chest. If he wasn’t getting discharged, she’d press for a promotion.

-&-

The aliens were right. They’d cleared up to the last row without any more problems.

As she finished clearing the last house, she couldn’t help but think of the strange twists of fate that had occurred. Aliens accompanying a pony diplomat. Or the other way around. In the end, what mattered was that they were here, and that they’d saved lives.

Gilda chambered her weapon absently as she flipped up onto the rooftop with a wing-assisted jump. From there, she could view the entirety of the killing field.

The grassland in front of the mine was covered in a veritable sea of bodies. Feathers and fur of all colors and textures seemed to mix together into a quilt of bloodied flesh. Even now, wisps of black smoke floated upwards from smoldering corpses, eliciting a gag from her throat.

Forcing the smell out of her mind, she looked around the row of buildings her platoon held. All casualties were ‘simply’ wounded. Still, Gilda found that she couldn’t complain. Things had gone so much better than she’d thought. Tartarus, she’d originally estimated ending up with half of her platoon dead.

She sighed. One last thing to do before they left for Asgard.

She called up her soldiers. Each of them sat on the rooftops, having been alerted that there were no more surviving enemies. Gilda could see each and every one of them; tired, but happy that they were at the end of their ordeal. She herself felt pretty much the same.

She couldn't be more proud.

“Set the bodies on fire.”

-&-

Twilight gaped at the bonfire of bodies. Her eyes watered at the intense heat emanating from the impromptu pyre, but she couldn’t stop looking. Here and there, she could see the bodies blackening under the propellant-accelerated fire – some griffons had scavenged through the household to find chunks of coal – and she swore that she’d witnessed a griffon split in half, lengthwise, before the bloody smoke shrouded his body.

A flutter of wings sounded behind her, and Twilight instinctively turned, flaring her shield, before she recognized the intruder. Gilda. Identification was hard; the griffon was still covered in blood and soot, and looked just like a reanimated version of one of the dead bodies outside the window.

“Good reflexes,” the griffon commented sourly as she slunk up to her. “You learn fast.”

Twilight gulped uncomfortably at the implications of that sentence. “What are you doing there?” she asked, gesturing with a hoof.

“Cremation,” Gilda replied. The lieutenant didn't deem it necessary to explain the traditional griffon method for treating the dead. The other reason for choosing cremation was that burial would have taken far too long.

Twilight tried not to gag as the smell of blood on Gilda’s feathers hit her nostrils – the lieutenant hadn’t wasted any time clearing the rest of the town. She hadn’t even bothered to wash herself up. Twilight had assumed that was exactly what she’d just gone off to do when she heard the griffon’s call for her soldiers, but she’d been proven wrong.

Gilda smirked at Twilight’s reaction. “You’ll get used to it in a couple of hours.” She turned towards the window, seemingly staring at the impossibly thick smoke. “You’re going home.”

Twilight didn’t have anything to say to that, so she just nodded her agreement. Home sounded like paradise after these three days.

The multitude of soft huffs in the air drew her ears backwards, until they faced south. It sounded like the soldiers were leaving, flying back to wherever they came. All the more surprising why their commanding officer was not.

Luna appeared behind the two, her face streaked with tears. The sight of it was just so… so foreign. The Princess wasn’t an immovable mountain of stability – she was still a pony, and like a pony, she still had feelings, hopes, regrets…

Twilight herself had just stopped a bout of shakes, caused when her eyes had stopped over the slaughter before the building. Rolk and Svetlana had attempted to comfort her, awkwardly, but the bloodstained armor they wore just made them seem more sinister, and they’d just left as per her stammered wishes. Now, she wasn’t sure whether she was going to start again or not – this whole expedition had turned into such a nightmare. Everyone had faced their demons, and more. Even her brother, ever the stoic guard, had simply turned away, and hidden. She knew him well enough to know when he wanted to be by himself.

“Princess, you’d better go,” Gilda’s low voice rang out, dull and emotionless. The griffon herself did not move at all. Instead, she just sat, rifle across the back of her backpack, gazing into the massive fire.

The Princess did not protest, and gently led Twilight away towards the back of the room. From there, the two could teleport to ground and gallop away towards the alien shuttle.

The room filled with the low, quiet hum of charging magic, and a single small pop reverberated off the metal walls.

Twilight herself had not followed, a fact made abundantly clear by the clip-clop of hooves on metal as she slowly walked towards Gilda. Neither of them spoke for a minute; one appeared content to sit and stare, and the other shifted nervously, willing the uncooperative words to escape from her throat.

“What is it, Twilight Sparkle?” the griffon said suddenly. Her tone betrayed nothing – there was no emotion at all. In fact, Gilda sounded slightly bored, if that was possible.

“I – nothing,” Twilight managed to stammer out. The heat of the fire had to be getting to her. She was sweating more than Applejack after a hard day’s work. At least, she felt like she was.

Gilda’s hissing sigh, full of venom and frustration, both surprised and scared her, and she flared up her shield. Well, the griffon was right. She was on the path to being a good battle-mage, and that revelation wasn’t welcome. At all.

“Speak,” Gilda said heavily, turning around. Her face was covered in soot and blood, and she’d made no attempt to brush any of it off. Creased, tired amber eyes fixed their gaze upon her robotically. To say that it gave her a ghoulish expression was a severe understatement.

“You’re a good person, Gilda,” Twilight murmured, almost reluctantly, as she dispelled her shield. Celestia, why was this so hard?

Gilda could have smirked, but under the flickering orange light that the nearby bonfire cast out, Twilight couldn’t be sure. In fact, the firelight playing on her bloodied, sooty feathers made her seem even more demonic. “Really?” the griffon stated evenly, a bit of her old sarcasm playing into her voice, even now. At least, Twilight thought it was sarcasm. "I don't feel like one."

Twilight sighed internally. Maybe Gilda didn’t want help, didn’t need it. Maybe she herself was just thinking too deeply about this. Despite the short time they’d spent together, she’d come to, at the very least, respect Gilda. Respect her enough to patch up the sour spot that Gilda had left behind in her last visit to Ponyville.

“Maybe stop by Ponyville sometime. We might surprise you,” Twilight said unconsciously, her hoof going to her mouth as she processed what had just popped out of her throat. Hopefully, that mutter was too quiet for Gilda to pick up…

To her surprise and slight relief, the griffon didn’t instantly insult her intelligence or choice of friends, but kept silent. Or maybe Gilda hadn’t heard her at all over the roar of the raging fire. The heat was getting uncomfortable at this point, but she knew that it wasn’t the only reason she was sweating so much.

“I’m not that keen on surprises anymore,” Gilda snorted with a bitter laugh, flicking her lion’s tail. “And I can’t say with certainty. Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer. Maybe. But I can’t promise.”

That slight compromise was enough to bring a small smile to Twilight’s face, and she nodded at the griffon, making no attempt to hide her own feelings. That small spark of hope and redemption, in her eyes, was good enough for a start. Luna had been the same, once.

With a slow, awkward flick of her hoof, she teleported away, leaving Gilda to her own thoughts.

-&-

There was no fanfare, no celebration, no ceremony. They just left.

The shuttle, riding on its legs of fire, rose above the small town, and in the distance, the passengers could see a stream of griffons flying like birds away from their original encampment.

In all honesty, Twilight couldn’t bear to look anymore. That town left too many memories and experiences, and in the end, she just felt like she wanted to sleep and wake up to find herself in her own bed, being comforted by Spike that this was all a dream, and that the aliens had left after their salvage in the Everfree castle.

But her rational side told her that her senses were telling the truth. And she hated that.

Attempting to sink into sleep, she lay on the cold metal floor. Her brother’s side pressed against her, and several old memories of happier, more innocent times burst through her mental dam. She almost laughed at her former innocence; a time when she didn’t have to worry about Nightmare Moon, or Discord, or indoctrination…

Her brother had been unusually quiet, merely giving her a warm smile undermined by the creases around his eyes as she met him next to the shuttle. Come to think of it, all of them were. Riana had none of her usual cheer or zest, simply following Levin into the piloting area of the shuttle. The turian himself, normally quiet, just seemed to have lost the ability or will to speak. The two operated in complete silence. Even the wild, insane Sev seemed to have lapsed into a sort of calm, although his fingers continued to tap on the side of his metallic ‘shotgun’.

As the shuttle doors slid shut, seemingly sealing like a closing wound, Luna merely covered her head with her hooves and sobbed quietly. Twilight could distinguish the Princess’s lithe form atop several seats in the dim red lighting, and placed a hoof on her shoulder. The Princess opened one tear-filled eye and glanced at her, and Twilight smiled back, trying to comfort her friend.

Twilight had a good idea of what the Princess was thinking about right now, but she didn’t know what to say. All she could do was offer some form of comfort; a gesture of saying ‘I’m here if you need me’.

As the throaty roar of the shuttle’s inner fire reverberated through the cramped cargo bay, Twilight and her companions sat in silence.

-&-

The next time the shuttle doors unsealed, Twilight gasped.

Sev made a mental note of the number of guards. Looked like the entire force had come out to play. Near the front, the tall, white form of the second Princess made herself known. Ironic that, if they ever decided to swarm him, they’d end up like their friends over in the griffon town. Still, with numbers like that, he’d be reduced to hand-to-hand combat after about 20 shots.

Not a bad prospect. Gunning someone down was pretty impersonal. Just point and shoot. With knives and the like, you could really test your mettle against an opponent.

Sev shook his errant thoughts away. Honor and strength didn’t matter. Survival did. He sighed, wishing that he’d brought more thermal clips on the expedition.

They passed the guard memorial, a stone statue of a pony in a supposedly heroic stance, balancing on his hind legs and lance. Once a foreshadowing of things to come, now, just a reminder of nicer, less bloody times. Twilight pondered whether the griffons would erect a similar statue, or memorial or whatever, to remember the fallen townsfolk.

As the shuttle skimmed along the flat grassland of the castle’s multipurpose yard, screaming all the while, Sev prepped his shotgun.

“Why are there so many guards?” Riana’s said, voice crackled over the intercom. “You don’t think…”

Levin merely hummed, the purring sound mixing with that of the airlock door grinding open.

A thump to the bottom of the shuttle indicated that they were landside, and both shuttle doors opened, letting the setting sunlight pour into the myriad of crates inside the tiny hold. As the ponies trotted out, Armor leading the way, Sev looked past them at the crowd of guards.

It’d be a hell of a fight. There was no cover on the field, except for the corvette itself, and Sev doubted that even the half-foot thick spaceship alloy could stand up to a combined biotic attack of this magnitude.

What to do, what to do…

Good for the Princess and her two companions to act as temporary meat shields, though. That was considerate of them. Now, the guards couldn’t fire without risking a hit on their allies, not to mention their co-ruler. Of course, that was assuming they didn’t have an understanding of biotic artillery techniques.

On the way back, Riana had outlined their basic plan of escape, or as she called it, ‘farewell policy’. She’d simply told them that, once they were out of the shuttle and on Equestrian soil, the three would be out of there. What the ponies planned to say, or do, they didn’t care; they’d be gone already. That was the gist of it. Of course, she’d put it in much nicer terms.

The appearance of 100 biotic guards, as well as an angry Celestia that seemed high on red sand, presented a bit of an obstacle in that decidedly simple plan. Still, if they could get far away before she finished charging that horn of hers, or better, remove that horn…

The outer airlock door ground shut, and the hiss of the air filters as they scrubbed the ship’s atmosphere clean of toxins were the only sounds for a short while. Before long, the inner airlock door split into halves, and slid open to reveal the admittedly tiny cargo hold of the corvette.

After undergoing decontamination, Sev lifted some of the crates in his arms and stacked them against the pile already present. Riana headed straight for the crew area, no doubt searching for something that wasn’t rations, and Levin simply ignored the two of them, going straight for the cockpit. No doubt he wanted to get offworld as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, in the privacy of her own room, Riana sank deep into a storm of her own thoughts as she lay back on her bed. This trip had turned into so much more than she’d originally thought. They’d salvaged enough off the ruins to pay off a good bit of their debt, if they got a good deal. Not only that, they’d unintentionally helped to repair a relationship between two nations, if things went right; she’d salvaged the remnants of a mind torn by guilt; and she’d gotten the once-in-a-lifetime chance to make first contact with not one, but two sentient species. Not a bad haul, if she said so herself.

After a quick glance at the suit of armor that was hung up at the end of the bed, she swung her legs over the edge, pulling herself into a sitting position. There was one more thing to do. She pushed herself off the edge of the bed, and nearly stumbled as the a-grav field flickered in strength for a moment, messing with her internal fluids. Shaking her head to clear out feelings of nausea, she made her way to the cockpit.

She could see Sev leaning against the crate where he stored his equipment. As far as she knew, he wore armor as casualwear – and rightly so, for the crate looked too small to fit even the torso section. It looked like he’d packed up fully. The case was closed – locked shut – and he didn’t have a weapon that she could see on him.

The walk to the cockpit was only about ten meters, but it felt much, much longer. Part of it was due to her reluctance to do what had to be done; the other part, she reckoned, was that her sense of balance was still wonky, all thanks to that odd gravitational anomaly. By now, she had a guess as to what was causing it, but still, it wasn’t important. They’d be leaving anyways.

As she slipped into the multipurpose console’s seat, behind Levin, she sighed, waiting for the turian to acknowledge her presence. He had to have noticed her arrival. His ears were pretty sharp.

He deviated from the plan almost instantly, choosing to stay silent. Riana swore in her head. Was he trying to make it as hard as possible for her?

“How are you feeling?” she asked, choosing to forgo the tactful route. If he didn’t want to talk, he’d have to say it out to her face.

“Fine,” he grunted, his long fingers tapping at the orange holograms in front of him. “Been better.”

Riana absentmindedly powered up her own console, waiting for the lines of text to stop scrolling down the corner of the boot-up hologram. “My offer still stands, alright?”

“What –” he started, pausing in his work, before turning around to glare at her. At least, that’s what she thought he was doing. Turians couldn’t seem to do anything other than glare with those beady eyes and set faces. “I’ll be fine.”

Riana looked away from him and at the console, which had recognized her omni-tool and given her access automatically. Tapping the ‘Power’ icons, she tried to look nonchalant, even as her face threatened to fall into a frown. “Alright. Goddess be with you.”

She could see Levin squint out of the corner of her eyes, but, determined to look as if she wasn’t interested, she stared a hole into the shifting bars that depicted the power levels to different areas of the ship. Hopefully, he wouldn’t pursue the matter. Hopefully –

Levin sighed, and the action twisted her head unconsciously towards him. “I appreciate the thought,” he said, mandibles flaring. He was smiling. That was good. “Thanks. But I’m fine, really.”

“I just thought that – you know, outside the mine – I thought –” Goddess, why was she stammering like a lovesick child? Get a grip!

Levin chirped merrily, and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Oh, she was so going to wipe that smirk off his face. Carapace. Whatever.

“Killing those griffons outside the mine,” she snapped, annoyed. “Are you not affected?”

That did it. Levin’s face-plates fell in a frown, and he turned back to the piloting holograms in front of him without another sound. Any vindictive glee that she had felt vanished into the stale air. Silence invaded the cockpit once more, broken only by the low hum of the fusion power core. 

“I don’t know,” he finally said. Riana tensed at the sudden sound, and once more, she looked at the back of his head. “I had to do it. No choice.”

He sighed; a long, soft exhale that seemed somewhat unfitting for him. “I don’t know.”

“Without that, we would have been overwhelmed. You saved our lives,” she said quietly. Good thing that they weren’t in armor now. She guessed that neither of them was in the mood for any sarcastic comments from a certain mercenary.

“Yeah. Not to mention, I would have died.” He tried to chuckle, but it came out as a series of lonely, low coughs. “Way I see it, they were dead. Lost their minds. It was an act of mercy to put them down.”

Riana nodded slowly. “I understand. It was necessary.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a moment, before Riana finished constructing the sentence in her head. “It was logical, and yet we’re not logical creatures. We’re born with emotions, with so much more than just calculations about risk and reward running around in our heads. That’s why it hurts. It hurts because you’re still a person, and you haven’t lost what makes you a person.”

She looked back at Sev, still standing coolly in the cargo bay. He hadn’t shown any sort of guilt, or terror in the fighting at all. Simply excitement and resignation. 600 years of mercenary work had hardened a person into a machine. All of his sorrow, joy, guilt and anger had simply been stripped away, leaving an apathetic husk behind. He could only feel through fighting.

Was that true? Certainly looked like it. It didn’t look like he thought of himself as a hero or a ‘good guy’. Perhaps he was simply resigned to his path in life.

-&-

Luna didn’t react as the alien spaceship resealed itself. The asari had told them that the sooner they were offworld, the sooner everyone would be happy. Frankly, it sounded fairly logical to her. They’d gotten what they wanted, and Equestria wouldn’t be bothered any more. Win-win. She felt somewhat wistful - this was a chance to see the stars, and broaden the horizons of her own knowledge. Besides, she wasn't really going to neglect her duty here. She had no duty here, after all. Right?

Twilight was still gaping at the closed door, and beside her, Captain Armor smiled warmly at his subordinates out in the crowd. That did little to extinguish their frowns. Luna ignored them, and headed straight for her sister. She knew what was coming. After all, she’d experienced pretty much the same thing, 1000 years ago.

“How did your trip go?” Celestia asked, smiling, but Luna could easily see through her sister’s façade. They were effectively twins, after all.

A myriad of thoughts ran through Luna’s head. She recalled the first, awkward few moments she had with Levin, talking about their pasts. She recalled how she’d volunteered to be part of the first clearing team, staining her hooves on the bloody floors; how her shield had saved the lives of her newfound comrades; how she watched a friend nearly bleed out on the dusty wooden floor of the griffon town hall; how the griffons came across a bloodbath, and waded through it, in order to create an improvised funeral pyre. How the thick, black smoke mixing in with the orange flames brought her back 1000 years, to when she had been the cause of such devastation.

“It went… well,” Luna said, after a moment of deliberation. She set her mouth on a thin, hard line. There were some things that weren’t nice to remember.

Alas, fate was not on her side today. Since when was it? “Please tell me, dearest sister,” the Princess of the Sun asked. Luna knew her tone. Worried, but weighed with calculations. Scales of risk and reward being balanced in her mind. Seemed like the political office had taken a liking to her, and vice versa.

Luna briefly considered flat-out denial. A short, sharp “No!” would be just the thing to see – her sister hadn’t had a member of her country deny her to her face in what seemed like decades. Then again, she had returned from exile only 2 years ago. Back to the point – live and let die, Sev had said. You never know when you’ll miss your chance.

“They’re leaving,” Luna replied, choosing another topic to ‘tell’ her sister about. Wasn’t her fault if Celestia was vague. “As for a battle report, please ask Captain Armor.”

Celestia’s mouth opened for a short moment, before she snapped it shut. “There was a battle? Were you hurt? What happened?”

Luna wasn’t in a mood to recount her experiences. “Ask Captain Armor. I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell.”

“Did you just let them leave? Without accounting for their actions?” Celestia’s head was turned to the side, meeting the back of Luna’s head as she walked past her sister. There was a task at hoof, and Luna didn’t want any more excuses to tarry. This task had to be done.

“Consider it banishment,” the Moon Princess said, sighing and shrugging. “Either way, they’re gone.” She could see a flash of anger appear on her sister’s face, and shrugged inwardly. Of course she’d be angry. But the aliens’ arrival had an unexpected benefit – they’ brought together the two countries and countries, letting their ties wrap around one another, and inspiring harmony. Was that worth the damage they caused?

She didn't know.

She shook her head, shaking any distractions out. She needed to be at her best, when she talked to the griffon ambassador. He would want to know about this. It was his country, after all.

As she reached the castle’s marble steps, she could hear the soft peals that made up her sister’s laughing, and the quiet, almost silent murmurings of Twilight Sparkle. Sounded like they were just getting into the thick of things. Good.

She reached the ambassador’s room on autopilot, choosing to fly up to his tower, rather than climb the stairs. Speed was of the essence here, and she had never cared much for formality. That was her sister’s forte.

With a sharp clop of hooves striking marble, she landed on the balcony, and slowly walked inside, past the curtain. The griffon ambassador’s room was relatively barren, compared to the zebra one. There was no sign of any sort of homeliness; all of the furnishings were standard and untouched. A desk in the corner, next to the balcony, had some pieces of paper on it, and a diplomatic bag. She could see the handle of a revolver sticking out from the bag. She could recognize that immediately – Gilda had shown Luna her own. An officer’s weapon, thanks to its intricate design and complexity.

The current occupant of the room looked at her curiously from the chair in front of desk. He had a small, lithe figure that contrasted with the bulkier soldiers she’d spent her last three days with. She couldn’t help but sigh as she collected the substantial amount of determination in her, in preparation for what was to come.

“What is it?” the ambassador asked, in typical griffon bluntness.

With a sharp pang, Luna realized that she hadn’t even bothered to learn of the ambassador’s name. Nonetheless, she had to start her tale. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” the ambassador replied, a claw inching towards the revolver.

Luna saw the movement, but she didn’t waver in her speech. “The town that went mad.”

The griffon froze. “Winterhold,” he murmured, seeming to slump slightly. “What happened?”

Thanks to the massive sea separating the two countries, news from home wouldn’t travel fast. Luna knew that. Maybe she could wait – no. She wasn’t going to weasel out. She was done with hiding and pretending. No more mind games with herself.
Luna sighed. “Mission was a success. Soldiers suffered no deaths.”

“Mission? Wait, they went through with purging the town?” the griffon squawked, turning to face her fully.

Luna merely nodded, before looking back at the ambassador, who was slumped in his chair.

“Shouldn’t have come to this…” he said, before he covered his face with his claws.

Luna didn’t reply. Even with her admittedly bad social skills, she knew that this was to be a private matter. She gave a weak nod to the ambassador, who didn’t seem to have noticed her, and with a flap of her wings, she was gone.

She needed time to herself as well.

-&-

As Twilight watched Luna stalk away towards the castle, her mentor approached her with a smile. This one seemed to be forced; it was a little too wide, and her eyelids threatened to flutter shut any second. Still, she was trying to maintain a good face, and Twilight was more than happy to help.

“Had a good time, Twilight?” Celestia asked, and Twilight froze. What should she say? The truth? Celestia wouldn’t believe it. It was outlandish, foolish to see the little bookworm by the name of Twilight Sparkle as a part of a sniper squad – wasn’t it?

“I’ve been better,” Twilight said, dodging the question. That was a very valuable lesson her teacher had taught her as she accompanied her teacher in court – one that she suspected wasn’t something Celestia wanted her to know.

“What did you learn?” the Princess asked, softly. Her smile had shrunk, but it was still there.

Twilight sighed in response. “That the galaxy is a very dangerous place. That we should all be thankful of what we have, and recognize how rare our kind is in the universe.”

That stunned Celestia. It wasn’t like her to have become so cynical and distrusting, all of a sudden. It had only been 3 days! What had happened?

Twilight sighed, patting at the ground with her hoof. “I’m glad to be home.”

“I am glad you’re with me, Twilight,” Celestia murmured, leaning down to hug her student. Twilight seemed to just fold into the hug, as if she couldn’t support her weight anymore.

When they broke apart, they found Shining Armor standing beside her sister, a quiet smile on his face.

The white unicorn saluted as his Princess looked back to him. In between the rows of guards, he could see Twilight scamper off towards the castle.

“Mind giving me a report on what exactly happened, Captain?” Celestia said evenly, jerking his attention back towards her.

“Well,” he began, and hesitated. There really would be no way around it. He would just have to tell the truth, and hope history looked at him in a positive light.

Just as he started to speak once more, a rush of light and sound and heat smashed into him, and around him, the unicorn guard started to summon shields. He did so too, expanding his to cover the entire group. 

The corvette lifted upwards gracefully on columns of blue fire, roaring with the force of a hurricane. Celestia could sense the magical core flaring into full strength, as the alien ship continued its ascent. There was an element of elegance in the extremely minimalistic design, she had to admit.

She closed her eyes and readied her magic, opening them in time to see the spacecraft as a tiny black spot in the sky. It looked no bigger than any of the circling birds above the garden, differing only in shape and menace.

As she reached out, the ship vanished with the sound of thunder.

> Chapter 18 - Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 18: Epilogue

--

New beginning… for all of us. – Dr Mordin Solus’s last recorded transmission, Tuchanka Shroud facility

--

A muffled thump and a series of hisses told the three that they'd docked at Omega. Still the heart of evil that she remembered from the vids, Riana thought, as she looked out at the bright neon highlighting of the massive space station. Even the Reaper War hadn't changed that. The strong still preyed on the weak, and the wealthy on the poor. Some things never changed.

Omega had sprouted from an eezo-rich asteroid like a weed from fertile land, and over the centuries, it had been the home of almost every Terminus Systems pirate or slaver gang. Even the recent Cerberus attack had only put a short stop to those functions.

She didn’t trust anyone on this Goddess-forsaken rock, apart from her two companions. Even after the decimation of the pirate fleet during the Reaper War, and the attack that Cerberus had made on the station, there were still enough ne’er-do-wells still alive to rip her off. Aria was still alive, last she heard, even after the Reapers took control of the Citadel. The old bitch had always been hard to kill.

Levin had stayed with her whilst Sev had gone shopping, idly tapping his long talons on the ship’s doorframe. Any second now, one of the docking guys was going to come in and demand payment. Levin had been on Omega for quite some time in his past, whilst she hadn’t.

The door hissed open, revealing Sev and his newly bought rifle – a massive machine gun, at least a meter long, which seemed to have been roughly sandblasted to remove identifying decals and engraved serial numbers. Still, she recognized the distinctive shape of the weapon; it was one of the human made N7 Typhoon models, a constant sight on the propaganda posters. So many had been produced during the war that it was inevitable some would go off the radar, so to speak.

“Let us go,” he growled happily. Huh. He must really have wanted to test it out.

“What of the docking guard?” Levin asked, fully armored and cradling his Avenger in his arms. On Omega, only a fool went around looking weaponless.

“I took care of that,” the krogan replied, and Riana felt a trickle of dread running down her spine. “He was going to charge you double. Here he is. I think he finished changing his pants.”

A rather lanky salarian in dirty armor came up to the group from around the corner, boots clanking on the metal flooring. “Apologies for the delay, sirs,” he said to the group, ending with a short bow.

‘What?’ Riana mouthed to Sev.

-&-

  What are you going to live for?

Luna looked up at the night sky. Twinkling stars stared back down at her. The universe was at once beautiful and deadly.

Equestria - no, the world - could not live in the dark ages forever. Other races frolicked amongst the stars, uncovering the mysteries of their pasts, exploring and killing, loving and hating. There was so much out there to discover, and they would definitely miss out if they were to ignore the galaxy’s potential in favor of simple living.

Knowledge is power.

Simple living had its benefits – a country of peace, untouched by war or large-scale conflict for the best part of the last century. Still, they didn’t have a choice. The arrival of those three had shown that alien life could reach them, and the next visitors could have even worse intentions than even that krogan, Sev. What then? Equestria would be caught unprepared, pressed into a long and difficult war, and in the end she doubted that even the power of herself and her sister could do much to a full alien fleet. Or multiple fleets.

Power corrupts.

She hardened her resolve, and her face set in determination. She couldn’t do much; she had always been seen as the second sister, the one who took up space, the one who didn't deserve her title. But she could do enough to make a difference. Live and let die. And by making a difference, she was living the life she wanted.

She reached for the nearby parchment and quill with her magic, and started to write.

Equestria Space

No. That wouldn’t be good. Her time with the griffons had shown that they could work off one another, and both benefit – and this program was going to change the world. Why not invite all races of the world to play their part? Every species’ strength would counter another’s weakness, and the level of teamwork needed in a project this massive would foster harmony between all species and races. Her sister would agree, if she wasn’t lying about all that harmony stuff she sprouted in her speeches.

Every race was going to be given a chance. There would still be old grudges, and there would still be conflict and friction; but such was the price for harmony.

International Space Project

She started to write.

-&-
Six weeks since the Massacre

Gilda walked through the streets of Ponyville once again. The light blue sky above her head sickened her; it looked artificial and filtered, and she had always felt like her eyes had somehow stopped working correctly once she entered Equestrian airspace. For a griffon, death was preferable to blindness.

And it wasn’t just the sky that was wrong. The grass was too light a shade of green, the houses looked like they were painted plywood, and the animals weren’t animals – only golems dressed in flesh and blood, programmed to obey and serve their creators.

So much for her new post, Gilda thought. This was looking like a bad idea already. Still, live and let die. Life was fragile, and she’d rather experience all that she could before her flame snuffed out.

The houses seemed to be hodgepodge, with no rule or reason in their design at all. Every house stuck out like a sore talon, screaming to get the attention of ponies, and the one griffon, passing by. Gilda narrowed her eyes. The timber framing and thatched housing would make them susceptible to fire. It would be simple for them to burn down, trapping every pony inside. At least every house seemed to stand far enough from the others for fires to be confined to one house.

She glanced upwards, towards the roofing. Thatch meant that it was flammable, but also that it was easy to scale. A good griffon sikskysher would be able to fire from one of the slanted rooftops, using the bulge of the roof itself as cover. Problem was, he wouldn’t be able to cover a lot of ground with the scope.

The whole town was a rat’s warren of streets, alleys, dead-ends and market stalls, perfectly designed to allow a defending guerilla force pick off a much larger attacking one. Even after taking the residential housing, there was a wide area of flat land surrounding the town hall – a killzone for land units. Snipers would be able to pick them off from the safety of the hall’s top floors.

Still, griffons had wings, which meant that she could lead a small force to bust in through the top windows and clear the floor. From then on, the defenders would be breached, and they’d be at a higher point. The only caveat was that the breaching team would have to be quick, since they’d be exposed to anyone in the town after breaching cloud cover.

She looked up and back, noticing the apple plantation in the distance. A red house loomed above the trees, and she could see the many windows that decorated it, even from this distance. From there, a sniper unit could hit the bridges across the river, softening up any defenders and attackers. A vital area.

As she juggled tactics in a part of her mind, the other part noticed that the ponies seemed to stare at her as she passed. They didn’t seem happy. More shocked, angry, and fearful, judging by their open mouths and wide eyes. Gilda shrugged. At least those were glares they were slinging around, not bullets. She could live with that. She'd have to keep an eye out, though. Crowds were great places to launch sneak attacks from.

“Halt!” an authoritative voice sounded, uncannily similar to that of her own. Gilda did, idly patting her chest for the combat knife that wasn’t there. Well. Looked like she would have to take them hand-to-hand if things went sideways.

Two Royal Guards rushed over. “State your name and business.”

“Gilda. Visiting a friend.” It was better not to tell them what she was really here for; it would take too long. She had the papers in her carry-bag, but still.

One of the guards lit up his horn, whilst the other strafed her, intending to flank. Gilda bristled, turning such that his advantage would be reduced. It wasn’t too difficult to take them down, she idly remembered. Their throats were exposed, unprotected by armor, and their spears only popped out from one side of their armor. Some would think that the Equestrians would have rolled out new sets following the alien arrival.

Still, a good griffon soldier never let the enemy close in.

“Not a changeling,” the unicorn guard said, dispersing the remnants of his spell. He nodded quickly, and professionally. “Continue. Celestia bless you.”

Gilda refrained from rolling her eyes. “Hey, can you tell me where Twilight Sparkle’s home is?”

The unicorn guard started, mouth opening in surprise, before narrowing his eyes ever so slightly in thought. “The library. It’s a tree, converted into a house. Golden Oaks, I think it’s called. About that way.” He pointed with a hoof to emphasize a direction.

Gilda nodded, and took off into the air with a flap of her wide wings. She wasn’t nearly as fast as Dash, but she could fly for far longer. Now, she had a description to work off of, and her eagle eyes started scanning the area. A converted tree would have to be massive – ah. There it was.

A raspy, somewhat cool voice sounded from somewhere behind her. She didn’t need to look back to know who it was. “Hey, G!”

“Dash,” Gilda replied evenly, continuing her flight towards the green, leafy building. Now that she laid eyes on it, she could how well built it was. Windows built haphazardly into the wood let snipers spray lead into the wide open space around the library. Furthermore, the leaves in the tree’s canopy, no doubt supported by branches, could let a sikskysher sit and shoot without fear of discovery. The leaves would hide the muzzle flash. The sound would still travel, though. Still, a suppressor would solve that problem easily.

Not a bad building, by pony standards. 

Dash caught up, flying alongside her with ease. She’d expected that. Dash was fast, but not tough.

“Sup,” the rainbow-maned pegasus said nonchalantly, placing her hooves on the back of her head in an attempt at normalcy. Ha. Those days were long gone.

“Visiting Twilight,” Gilda replied, eyes still fixed straight ahead. The library was about the size of her clenched fist now, and she’d arrive in a few seconds.

“Twilight? That egghead? Why?” Dash laughed, and Gilda felt a sudden urge to punch the smug bastard in the muzzle. She herself didn’t like reading or studying that much, but she’d gained a new respect for academics when she joined the army. Her guns and armor were all born from the mind of an ‘egghead’ as well, and those two things had saved her life on more than one occasion. The Battle of Winterhold had made that very clear.

“Don’t make fun of her,” Gilda growled, summoning the deeper, rumbling voice of her lion’s genes.

Dash frowned, flipping her body over until her legs dangled down below her. “I’m not.”

“Good.”

Ignoring her acquaintance’s sigh, she landed with a flutter of wings and a click of claws, eliciting gasps from the surrounding ponies. Even on her second trip here, she was still a novelty. Great. It didn't help that last time, she’d insulted about half the town.

Granted, now that she thought back to it, she had just lashed out – an instinctive move for a being under emotional duress.

When had she started using those words? Twilight must have had a bigger effect on her than she’d thought.

Eh. Past was the past, and dwelling on it changed nothing. At least, that was what they said. The past had a lot of very important lessons, and it was imperative to learn from the experiences long past to improve one's future. Dwelling did change the future, now that she thought about it.

As she knocked on the wooden door, she thought about the aliens. Their arrival, along with the ponies, had been a godsend. It had looked like a diplomatic thing at first – three mysterious beings from the stars, a Princess and two pony advisers – but without their help, the death toll on their side would have been much higher. Fate? Destiny? Gilda hated those concepts. More like luck.

The door opened, and she spotted the tiny, purple-green lizard that had ruined the cake back on that fateful day. What a waste of food. She only hoped that he got diarrhea from eating the dirtied dessert. Knowing dragons, however, he’d been the only one to eat that thing without getting sick.

Twilight Sparkle looked up from behind the dragon, her face lighting up in joy as she beheld her visitors. “Come in!” She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, what with the lines around her eyes, and the bags under them. Her mane wasn’t like the usual straight cut she’d had when she’d first arrived at the camp, either; rather, it looked fuzzy and frizzled, with strands jutting this way and that.

Dash and Gilda did so. The pegasus took one look at the myriad of bookshelves, and feigned a faint. Judging by Twilight's rolled eyes, that happened quite a lot.

In front of the griffon, on a table, was an abacus placed on top of a wide piece of paper. Gilda’s sharp eyes picked out the sharp, thin lines that represented diagrams and blueprints, alongside the squirrelly writing of equations. Just looking at those made her head hurt. Instead, she focused on the unicorn and the architecture of the library.

It was a very defensible position, she noted. The high alcoves looked over the entrance, and bookshelves carved out of the wall lined the walls under them, so that a sharpshooter holed up in them wouldn’t be surprised or ambushed. A thin, narrow and completely exposed staircase led up to the second floor, which was blocked by a heavy wooden door. The floor of the library looked completely barren, and seemed to lack cover of any kind, apart from a few stylistically placed, lonely wooden statues that stood a good distance apart from one another.

The dragon buzzed off, probably to cover the kitchen in mud.

“Gilda! What brings you here?” Twilight asked, crossing a hoof over her chest in an admirable copy of the traditional griffon greeting. Gilda smiled, and reciprocated the gesture. Dash hadn’t bothered to learn it, or couldn’t remember the nuances. She couldn't remember the reason why the pegasus had never bothered to greet her like that.

“They made me a liaison officer,” she said, a tired smile on her face. “You know, for the ISP project.”

“Oh? I thought they’d choose someone with, no offense meant, more diplomatic experience.”

Gilda rolled her eyes at the jab. Still, she appreciated the fact that Twilight hadn’t been scared of being direct. “Nah, they picked me. Guess it was ‘cause I worked with you and the Princess, back in that town.”

“Ah.” Twilight’s ears drooped, and her eyes seemed to stare vacantly for a moment, before she jerked her head back up to face Gilda. “Sorry, just… what happened to you?”

“Still have the dreams, huh?” Gilda said quietly. “I understand.”

Rainbow Dash, who’d been feigning sleep all this time, blinked one eye open.

“You too?” Twilight murmured. “I thought I was the only one. I thought there was something wrong with me –”

Gilda shook her head, interrupting Twilight’s panicked mumbles. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

“It’s always the fire,” Twilight said distantly, eyes misted over. “Even now, I can still remember the smell.”

“For me, it’s the way I got this.”

Gilda simply tapped her chest, feathers flecked with brown and black alongside her natural purple. Truth of the matter was, the blood and soot she’d gotten on her feathers had dried, and some of it had stubbornly stayed on her, no matter how many showers she went through. The army doctor had recommended a chemical to remove it; she’d declined, saying that it was fine. A war trophy, or a record of actions past.

She almost spat as she thought of the word ‘trophy’, remembering the taste of the blood as it had splashed all over her front and face. Spotting Twilight's puzzlement, she continued. “Couldn’t wash out all of the blood and soot.”

Twilight shivered unconsciously, whilst Dash jerked upright instantly. “Gilda, what have you been doing?” the pegasus demanded.

“Fighting in battle,” Twilight murmured softly. “You’ve read the news about Winterhold? Gilda: what happened to your soldiers? How have they been?”

Gilda squinted as the memories sprang to the forefront of her mind; Hans in a hospital bed, along with a few of the soldiers under her command; Anya, who’d excitedly shown her the letter of acceptance into the sikskysher corps; Hans, in the hospital gym, surrounded by nurses and aides whilst she sparred with him; ten resignation letters that had fallen into her claws as she unlocked her mailbox, splayed out on top of her own; delivering the bundles to her own commanding officer; and the whole platoon, saluting her, before they went their separate ways.

“They’re good,” she said, a wistful smile on her face. And they deserved to live good and full lives, she thought, for the things that they’d done for the sake of their people.

“Good,” Twilight replied, with a smile of her own, whilst Dash stared incredulously at the duo. 

“So, you?” Gilda asked awkwardly. She really wished she’d sharpened up on her social skills before this. Barking out orders and making up speeches she was good at – this, she wasn’t.

The purple unicorn perked up. “Princess Luna made me the magician lead for the ISP! Can you believe that?”

Gilda actually could, if Dash wasn’t exaggerating about how smart Twilight was in her letters to the griffon. She smirked. "Yeah, I could."

“We’re sending over a few of our own engineers and physicists,” the griffon remarked, once Twilight had stopped hopping on her hooves. If it was even possible, her smile got even wider. “Hope that’ll warm up relations even more. I’m supposed to be the one that gets both of the sides to work, so I guess I’ll be working with you three a lot more.”

“I hope you’ll get along with the zebra alchemists,” Twilight remarked, giggling a bit.

“They’re working on the fuel mixes and propulsion systems, and the minotaurs on the metallurgy,” the unicorn continued, noticing that Gilda’s confusion became more and more apparent as she went on. “Oh, never mind.”

“You guys really got the whole world together on this, it seems,” Gilda remarked, shaking her head. Once upon a time, xenophobia and war would have marked times when two different species met. Her country’s own history was spotted with those events. Their legacies were still present in today's griffon government policies.

“What happened between you two?” Dash exclaimed, pulling the attention of the two towards her. “I mean, you’ve met before, but you two didn’t even talk to one another last time! And now you’re best buddies?”

Was that jealousy? Gilda smirked, and Twilight giggled. Dash huffed, crossing her hooves over one another, in a display of annoyance.

Maybe it was time to let her taste some of her own medicine.

“I thought you’d be in Canterlot,” Gilda said, turning back to Twilight, who picked up some tea from a set of cups that the dragon had set down.

The unicorn nodded. “I thought I would have to as well, but we reached a compromise. I just send the blueprints and plans through Spike here!” She pointed to the dragon, who didn’t seem pleased at all. Did he ever?

“Damn shame, Twilight. Looks like Canterlot’s gonna be my new home,” the griffon replied, cracking a quick smirk.

“I’ll visit, once in a while,” Twilight said, returning that same crooked smile. She noticed the two blue feathers still present on the back of Gilda’s head, alongside a red one. “What do those feathers represent?”

“One griffon’s achievements in life,” Gilda muttered, distantly. “The blue represents that I have once been military, and two of them mean that I got to an officer rank. The red one means that I do work for the government, now. And the black and brown flecks – you know where that comes from.”

Twilight’s wan smile disappeared, to be replaced by a frowning grimace, as if she’d eaten something bitter.

“You never told me about that,” Dash butted in, sparking up some flickers of annoyance somewhere deep inside Gilda.

The griffon herself shrugged. “I didn’t have those, the last time I saw you,” she replied. “And you never asked.”

“Fine,” Dash conceded, grumbling. "Twilight, how come you've never told me about any of this?"

The unicorn sighed softly. "I didn't want you girls to be worried about me. I thought I was going to be fine by myself, and I turned out alright, I suppose. There wasn't any need."

The real reason, Gilda thought, was that she was ashamed of what she'd been a part of. The griffon herself sometimes felt the same way. The local stigma towards violence didn't really help.

"They're her secrets," Gilda said, glancing outside a nearby window inset into the tree. A bunch of ponies had gathered outside. Looked like 50 total, if she had to guess.

She bristled, and spread her weight out into a lower stance. It always paid to be prepared, in case the worst came to worst. By now, the move was so natural that she didn't even have to consciously adopt the position; she'd only noticed when she found her eye-level a little lower than usual.

Dash noticed the move, as did Twilight. The latter unicorn blinked, eyes widening, before summoning a shield around the griffon and her pegasus friend. They could all hear expressions of surprise and complaint rolling in from the kitchen; the dragon must have been shielded as well, then.

Keeping the shield up, Twilight edged around her table until she could see out of the window. She sighed.

Gilda couldn't tell why, but that sigh resonated frustration and resignation. "They're here for you, I think," Twilight said, dispelling the shields. Rainbow Dash's yelps of surprise went unheard between the two of them.

The griffon nodded once, quickly and professionally, before slinking to the wall and pressing herself against it. So much for a relaxing trip overseas, then. Twilight trotted over to the door, opening it with her magic.

The first thing that came through the open doorway wasn't a projectile, although it could have passed for one; rather, it was a creature. A very pink, very energetic creature.

"Oh my gosh!" the pink menace gasped, exaggerating her movements as if she was performing for some invisible crowd. "Gilda!"

The griffon squinted, focusing upon the vibrating pink mass in front of her. She dropped back to her lowered combat stance. If anything came up, she'd be ready as ever.

She still missed her gun and her knife, though.

Pink continued to blather onwards. "I didn't know you were coming back! We should really set up a party -"

"No," Gilda barked, in her best impression of her drill sergeant. She distinctly remembered that this was the only place that she'd ever needed to do this. Oh well.

She must have broken down the walls separating the pony's mind from the world, because Pinkie suddenly stopped her rambling monologue and actually started to listen for once.

"I don't want to," she continued, lowering her volume. Barking orders took a lot out of one's voice, and Gilda's was no exception. "And I'm busy."

"You don't look very busy, silly filly," Pink replied merrily.

And Twilight doesn't look like she's helped with the razing of a town. And I don't look like I've killed more of my own people than I can count on both my claws. Gilda threw a glance downwards, at her marked feathers. Actually, scratch that second one.

Pinkie must have noticed, for her eyes drifted downwards until she was staring at Gilda's dirtied chest feathers.

"Pinkie, what's with the crowd outside?" Dash asked, butting in. Gilda could tell that the pegasus was itching to have some attention be put on her again. She was twitching, and her wings fluffed out from time to time, as if they had minds of their own. She wasn't comfortable, that was for sure.

Pinkie gasped again. "Well, I noticed Gilda was back and so I planned a party and of course I had to invite everypony so nopony would miss out but because Gilda said she doesn't like parties and the party is to celebrate her coming back here so I guess they're all here for no reason -"

As Pinkie rattled off her machine-gun mouth, Gilda shifted to her normal standing posture just in time to see the backup arrive through the front door of the library. Twilight was amongst them.

The farmer and the yellow scaredy-pony gaped upon seeing her, but the white one looked indifferent, if not guarded.

Gilda laughed emptily. "And here I was, thinking that they were about to kill me."

Twilight spluttered, alongside the other five ponies. "Ponyville isn't like that!"

She took another glance outside, and grimaced. "They don't seem very happy though, I have to say."

"Time to go, I suppose," the griffon muttered, ignoring the multitude of reactions from the ponies inside the library. "Gotta be in Canterlot by nightfall. Damn curfews. Keep in touch, Twilight Sparkle."

She extended a clenched claw, in place of a hoof, to knock against Twilight's own. The both of them did so.

With a whisper of wind, Gilda blasted out of the open doorway, heading off to the capital.

Twilight looked at her retreating form, smiling softly. For all of Gilda's abrasiveness, there was a good soul inside. The trick was to unlock it without being rubbed raw in the first place.

She turned her attention back to her five friends, ignoring the slowly dispersing crowd. They'd made themselves comfortable inside the library, she saw, and she closed the door with an audible clack.

Five mares stared confusedly at her.

It was time. Time to let it all out. They'd understand. If someone as emotionally blunt as Gilda did, then her friends definitely would. Why did she even doubt them in the first place?

No time for second thoughts. Live and let die.

"You see..."

--
END NOTES:

Winterhold was never recolonized by the griffons. To this day, it remains a cautionary tale of the dangers of pride, and curiosity going too far.

After that fateful salvage mission, Sev received another job offer from the two, and stayed as head of corporate security for the burgeoning business.

The launch of the Century Winterhold, almost 100 years after first-contact, was one of the defining moments of history for all races involved. Aided by the continued financial and intellectual support of the Equestrian Princess Luna, the magical expertise of the unicorn Twilight Sparkle, the alchemical genius of the zebra Manisa and the griffon engineering prodigy Erik Sesson sak Tallis, design and construction of the Century Winterhold proceeded at unprecedented speeds. None of the original architects of the space program lived to see their creation reach for the heavens, except for Luna; but their mentions at the launch event drew minute-long standing ovations from everyone present.

The Triumvirate Salvage company grew into a respectably sized firm. After the death of one of its founders, Levin Risvirix, of natural causes at the age of 135, the remaining founder decided to sell a substantial share of the firm to a larger conglomerate. Levin's small, private funeral was attended by the company's co-founder and his close friend, Riana Serrin, and the krogan Sev. The former retrained as a diplomat, and the latter remained her private bodyguard.

The Defiance of Luna made official first-contact with a Rannoch Admiralty vessel, jointly operated by the quarian race and the geth, in the year 2301 CE. A short introductory trip to the Citadel was quickly arranged, and the news broadcast onto the galactic extranet. Most of the galaxy's response was muted, but not unwelcome.

The races of that planet, which had been formally named 'Equis' in the intervening years, came together under the banner of the Equis Accord. After their formal introduction to the galaxy by the Citadel Council, their leaders requested a specific person as their liason between their government and the Citadel; a relatively unknown, relatively young asari diplomat by the name of Riana.

The Systems Alliance, supposedly spotting parallels between themselves and the newcomers, struck up a research deal with the Equis Accord for mutual study into the other's history and origins.

RECEIVED.
> Inspiration and Thanks
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inspirations and Thanks:


Intellectual Property used:

Mass Effect franchise, by Bioware

My Little Pony franchise, by Hasbro Inc.

Cover Artists:
VICTORIA-badwolf

yanarada

electric-fox

Inspirations:

The ones listed below are the most obvious sources of my inspiration.

Galaxy at War: N7 by iBayne

Kindred Spirits by Cottonmouth

Mass Effect: Interregnum by The Naked Pen

SPEC OPS: The Line - developed by Yager, published by 2K Games

Thanks:

To all of you dear readers!

Special thanks to G S tol Kriaal for being an unofficial proof-reader in the comments.

To the ones who've explained why and what they disliked, and why and what they liked.

To the ones who've taken something from this story after reading it.

To the ones who've left encouraging, ego-stroking comments, likes and favs.

To the ones who've stayed after the admittedly uneventful first few chapters to see the meat of the story.