> The Spark
>  by GMBlackjack
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 0000 - Sight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


0000
Sight


A young woman opened her eyes and realized that, before that moment, she’d never understood what it meant to see something. Now she could. 

She was fairly certain this wasn’t supposed to happen.

She wasn’t exactly complaining, though. With a smile, she set her ballpoint pen down on her notebook, leaving the previous line unfinished. She fixed her gaze out the window at the beautiful summer’s day. She’d seen this view a billion times before. Every detail existed within her memory and could be recalled with ease. 

Yet now she understood what it meant, and that changed everything about how she perceived it. 

“Hmm…” She absent-mindedly picked up her pen and clicked it several times. “I wonder…” At these words, she couldn’t help but chuckle under her breath. “To think… how much passed by, unrecognized, before now?” Pen still in hand, she slowly stood up from her desk and walked to the window, placing her free hand on the glass. She took in a sharp breath.

“I think… I like it better this way.”


[~~+]


Deep beneath the ground of a sleepy town in the middle of nowhere, a man got an idea.

It wasn’t all that crazy of an idea, at least considering whose brain it had come from, and it wasn’t all that absurd either. 

“Eureka, that’s it!” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of that before? Just push further beyond! With enough distance, the connection will be severed completely! I have everything I need to do this already, just need to…” He stopped talking to himself and set to work. He popped open a hatch and started rewiring several bits and pieces of his inventions, shocked by how simple it all was. The titanium conduit needed to be adjusted by precisely thirty degrees so all the voltage-carrying wires would meet up at the proper juncture to initiate the proper surge…

He was done in less than ten minutes.

He wasn’t sure whether to feel proud that he’d worked so fast or humiliated that he’d missed such an obvious answer that had been staring him in the face for weeks. 

In the end, he shook his head and decided his reaction did not matter—all that mattered was that he finish what he started. He pulled a metallic lever all the way to the ground where it let out a harsh clank. Immediately, white electricity crackled through the dark basement, illuminating a triangle of shining metal with a circle cut in the middle of it. 

This circle flashed to life, forming a perfectly flat circle of pure White. 

Air started to be sucked into the flat circle.

Huh, the man thought. I was expecting a gravity distortion, not—

Something black sparked across the White disc. So pure was it that the darkness was a clear indicator of something wrong. The man hadn’t the foggiest idea what it could have been, and he did not have any time to theorize, for the disk suddenly grew in size, cutting through the edges of the triangular frame like it was a razor blade. The severed chunks of metal were now free to fall, and the air currents sucked them into the pristine White, devouring them whole.

The man threw something at the White and then turned to run. 

He wouldn’t have had a chance even if he had run the moment he noticed something was wrong. 

The White disc suddenly shattered itself, sending dozens of pieces in every direction; eating through walls like they were the consistency of clouds, tearing machines in half, and throwing thousands of papers into the air in a tumultuous whirlwind. 

One of the White’s shards flew right at him. 

“Not again! Not again!!”

Then he was gone. 

There was no way he could have known what he just set in motion.


[~~+]


A White disc appeared in front of a strange, alien creature with white skin and pink hair.

“Well, this is quite interesting, wouldn’t you say?”

She quickly put on a dark, angled hat with a soft pink ribbon around it. She quickly tucked a card into the ribbon, and stood up.

“Time to get to work! Ooooh, I can’t wait!”


[~~+]


He was bleeding out.

He knew he didn’t have long.

He had already given them his parting words. They would fight on without him. They would liberate the world from their oppressors.

He grinned despite his dire situation. What did it matter? They didn’t need him. They just thought they did. 

It was time for them to realize what they could really do…

…The White greeted him, illuminating his cramped metal confines.

“Another chance…?” He laughed weakly. “Oh, why not.” 

Already losing most of his awareness, he slipped through. 


[~~+] 


A young woman with blue hair and metallic horns sat on the edge of a bridge, dangerously close to the rushing water below. She wasn’t afraid, though. She just sat back and let the wind blow through her hair. 

Suddenly, the air changed direction, pulling her hair forward. Looking around with confusion, she soon found the source of the current—a White disc had appeared just above the water below her. 

“What?” She asked nobody in particular, cocking her head to the side. That was sure an unusual glitch, not like anything she’d seen before.

She was admittedly kind of curious what it did, if anything.

Well, there was only one way to find out. 

With a grin, she jumped right in. 


[~~+]


A man with pink hair and a purple sweater was walking outside the Roman Coliseum, eating some ice cream of an excessively fruity flavor. For someone in his line of work, such a treat was uncharacteristically childish, but he didn’t mind. It tasted good and so he would enjoy it with a big smile on his face. 

The White appeared in front of him as he was walking, and before he knew it, he was on the other side. The White had taken him to a city he didn’t recognize, where a red streak flew across the sky right before his eyes.

He looked down at his hands—and dropped his ice cream.

Why were his fingers so… round!? 


[~~+]


There existed a realm that had never known a single person. Buildings stretched on for miles, yet there had never been anyone to construct them. Forests stretched on into dark twilight, but they never grew. It was a world of consistency, unchanging—a monument to that which could not be. 

Then there was a hole torn in the sky… and someone came through. 

Impossible.

Unprecedented.

Baffling.

…Fascinating. 


[~~+]


A rocky, brittle asteroid flew through interstellar space at high speed. Even at its current speed, it would go thousands upon thousands of years without hitting anything, a lone rock in space without any purpose. 

That was, until the White appeared in front of it.

The asteroid did not react, for there was nothing within it to react. No air rushed around, for the vacuum was nearly absolute. 

It passed right through and ran smack-dab into the forehead of a skull-shaped spaceship, damaging its internal systems considerably at the worst possible time. 

They were definitely going to have to crash now. 


[~~+]


He looked like a man in a gray robe with a pointed hat, but this was far from the truth. However, that truth was rather unimportant—both to him and the people he visited among these green, grassy hills. What he was… he left outside, elsewhere in the world, far from the simple folk. 

He hoped it could stay far from them, but he knew it would not remain so forever. Things were moving, things he had to keep his eye on. Dark, evil things. 

It was quite unfortunate that a White disc appeared beneath his feet in that moment, dragging him away from the verdant hills and far from his charge. 

Perhaps they could go on without him, at least for a time…


[~~+]


“Woah, look at that!” A man with a straw hat on his head said as he ran to the prow of the sun-emblazoned ship. “A big white circle!”

A woman with orange hair held her hand up to her eyes and took in the ocean before her. “Huh… you’re right.”

“Let’s go check it out!”

“You’re the captain,” the woman said with a shrug. 

They realized a little too late that the White was sucking immense quantities of water into itself and they were unable to turn around no matter what they did.

The captain, however, didn’t seem bothered by this too much. He just let out a delighted “YAHOOOO!” as they sailed right through. 


[~~+]


“Okay, look,” the girl said, pressing her red-gloved hands together. “I don’t have time for this.”

The bandit she had just beat up pulled a sword on her. It glowed blue and summoned dozens of neon mosquitos around it.

“…Is that supposed to scare me?” the girl asked.

“Yes! Yes it is! Be scared!” the robber shouted.

“Hmm… nah.”

The robber slashed at her. The mosquitos burst out. 

And a White disc appeared between the two of them, absorbing all the mosquitos.

“Wh… what?” the robber stammered, staring at the White with uncertainty.

“Oooh, something new!” The girl rubbed her hands together. “Geronimo!” Without hesitation, she jumped right in. 


[~~+]


A young white unicorn with a purple-pink pastel mane poked a strange, speckled rock with a stick. It had a strange black mark that was a combination of a hook, a line, and a dot on it. 

It didn’t do anything. Not even when she poked it several more times.

“Hmm. Well, now that I know you’re not dangerous, I’m a little disappointed.” She sniffed the rock. “…Just paint.” Her horn came alive with an arcane glow, and a similar aura surrounded the rock, lifting it into the air for her to examine. “…I guess it might look interesting in a rock garden, or something.”

She thought she heard laughter.

“Who’s there?” She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the shape. “What in Equestria is that?”

Without any warning, there wasn’t any ground beneath her anymore. There was only White. 

She could only get out a half-scream before she fell through. 


[~~+]


Threads weave along a wheel that was never meant to be turned…

Connections forged through spirits so similar that have never met…

Power unleashed without a path to follow…

Fates altered regardless of who or what may have cared…

Where along the Sequence will it all lie, in The End?

It was impossible to tell, for it was but The Beginning.




> I - The Birth of a Mystery
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


I - The Birth of a Mystery


Captain’s Log, Stardate 54013.02.

It seems good fortune has come our way.

It has been two years since the end of the Dominion war, and Starfleet Command has determined the peace to be stable—perhaps even more stable than it was before the war broke out in the first place. With the official report released, Starfleet is once again turning its attention to exploration. Due to our exemplary service over the years, and the fact that our desire to explore strange new worlds is no secret to the Admiralty, the Enterprise is to be one of the first ships in a so-called “New Wave of Exploration” to be sent into the unknown.

I was given several possible assignments to choose from, and I have selected a particular one with a bit of a mystery attached to it. A few weeks ago, Federation listening outposts in the Gamma Quadrant detected unusual subspace bursts that all occurred within seconds of each other, releasing signals never before heard into the galaxy. With one exception, the sources of these bursts lie within Sector Block 3120, a section of largely unexplored space far from the Dominion’s borders, yet somewhat close to the Bajoran Wormhole. One signal, however, arrived a few seconds after the others, and it did not appear in the Gamma Quadrant, but the Alpha; on Bajor itself, no less. 

And so the Enterprise is currently en route to Bajor to investigate the signal before entering the Wormhole to find the others. We will stock up on all necessary supplies and personnel at Deep Space Nine. I hear Ambassador Worf is currently visiting the station—I do hope he is still there when we arrive, it will be good to see him.

Personally, I am quite delighted to finally return to what, I feel, is one of the major purposes of commanding a Starfleet vessel. The universe is a great unknown, and it will be a good change of pace from the rather hectic lives we have been living these last few years.

I look forward to what secrets these signals will reveal, as well as all the strange worlds we will be the first to lay eyes on.


[~~+]


Some would say space is a cold, heartless place.

Such an assertion would only be true in the technical sense. 

Yes, its temperature was abysmally low, but if one were to step out of an airlock they would find themselves strangely warm, for the absolute nothingness could do little to take body heat away. It was also true that space had no will of its own, no thoughts, and arguably no direction. Yet, who could look upon the swath of brilliant stars against inky blackness and not find beauty within it? Each individual speck was a world that called out to all who gazed upon it: promising entire worlds to any who would do so much as to come.

A single, small ship drifted through the stars. It was triangular, wingless, and had a rusted-orange color. Two cylinders on its underside glowed a soft orange, indicative of great power flowing within the craft. From within one of the windows, two sparkling eyes stared out into the abyss of space in absolute wonder, the stars dominating the owner’s entire field of view, as well as a good chunk of her thoughts. 

The little ship carried its passengers—she was far from the only one on board—to another island of substance in the nothingness of space. The destination was far larger, for it was a space station formed of multiple concentric rings attached by three elongated sections that extended all the way into the center. Three crescent-shaped prongs stood at the edges of the outer ring, curving above and below the station’s primary plane, providing six large ports for ships that could not interface with the outer ring’s primary docking bays. 

This was Deep Space Nine, the legendary space station that guarded the mouth of the Bajoran Wormhole, the only known stable wormhole in existence. Dozens of ships passed through it every day, moving to and from the Gamma Quadrant of the galaxy several thousands of light years away. It had been a key player in the recent war and still retained much status as the last stop before the unknown. 

Dozens of ships flew around the station at any given time, a fair number of them of similar design to the small ship currently approaching from afar. However, they were far from alone—ships of a large myriad of colors and shapes swirled in the nearby space; some content to simply drift, others attached firmly to one of the many docks, and still others that were in a constant hurry to get somewhere quick. 

The largest ship currently docked on one of the upper protrusions was a flat, gray ship with a flattened ovoid head and two blue rods that extended from the back a bit like rigid, slightly separated tails. Unlike the small ship, which only had a few windows, this one had hundreds of them, revealing there to be well over a dozen decks within the ovoid saucer section alone, not even counting the guts of the ship. Printed in bold lettering on the front hull was the ship’s designation: USS ENTERPRISE NCC-1701-E. 

Not that the little ship’s passenger could read that. This did not keep her from being utterly awed by the ship’s size and design—now that she was getting closer, she could see that it was easily the size of a city, perhaps larger! There were some people on there who probably expected to live their entire lives within its walls…

Soon, however, her ship got too close to Deep Space Nine to provide a good view of the Enterprise, so she finally tore her gaze away from the window. That meant they would be docking any moment now, and she would finally be able to see the inside of the legendary station. 

There was a loud clank as her ship docked. 

She took in a deep breath and walked out with the rest of the passengers. 

At first, nobody noticed her, for she was in the middle of a somewhat large group of ordinary Bajorans, humanoid creatures with wrinkled noses, the vast majority of which wore shimmering earrings on their right ears. However, as they dispersed, they revealed the passenger to all while simultaneously revealing the station to her.

She was less than a meter tall and walked on four smooth, white hooves that matched the color of her lightly fuzzy coat. Her mane and tail naturally formed large swirling curls, each strand of hair a pastel pink or purple. A good third of her body mass was taken up by her head which sported two enormous, forward-facing eyes and a single rounded horn coming out of her forehead. The horn in question was currently glowing softly, an identical aura wrapped around her small number of levitating belongings. Her telekinesis currently held a single backpack designed for a species that didn’t walk on four legs, a data pad with the title Bajoran Standard Alphabet currently on it with a bunch of pictures and interactive video files under the words, and a half-eaten cone-shaped pastry. 

The unicorn—for what else would a being like her be called?—took a bite out of the pastry and swished her tail around, unintentionally drawing attention to the vibrant mark situated on both of her flanks: a tri-colored shield with a star and a musical note in it. 

Already the people were starting to stare at her, but it would be a while before she noticed, because just as they were taking in her appearance, she was taking in theirs. 

The station’s Promenade was an extended circular corridor with two levels, both of which housed entrances to every shop, business, and other service that a thriving space station could want or need. There were restaurants serving food that ranged from tantalizing to revolting to the unicorn’s nose, but even the worst smells were ones she’d never experienced before so she took them in with relish. Somewhere, she could hear games being played with joyous cheers echoing throughout the bustle.

What a bustle it was—people of all sorts of colors and types walked around. There were ones with blue skin, ones with ridges on their foreheads, pointed ears, complete lack of a nose, scales lining their bodies, massive orange ears… however, there was a notable theme among them, and that was their shape. Every person the unicorn saw walked on two legs, had two arms, and a head—the humanoid body archetype. 

She didn’t see a single other one like her, and once she consciously realized this, she noticed the stares everyone was giving her. 

“Eheh…” she laughed nervously. “Um… hi!”

“Don’t worry, they won’t bite, they’re just curious.”

The unicorn looked up to see a white humanoid with pink, shiny hair and no nose addressing her. She was standing behind a kiosk selling bottles filled with liquids of various strange colors. With a flick of her fingers she adjusted her hat so she could look the unicorn right in the eyes and give her a warm smile.

“Ah. Thanks.” The unicorn lifted up one of her legs, displaying amazing flexibility in her shoulder joint that allowed her to rub the back of her head with her hoof. “I kinda knew that already, just… didn’t really grasp it until right now.” She had to crane her neck to look into the alien woman’s eyes, but she was getting used to that feeling at this point. “Hey, um, know where I would go to find someone who might be willing to help a lost filly find her home?”

“Security will probably help you, they’re down the promenade that way, outer edge of the ring. They’ll probably notice you before you notice them, though.”

“Thanks!” The unicorn gave the woman a wave and trotted off. Honestly, not sure Security are exactly the best people for this, but they might be able to direct me to the right place. 

As she made her way through the Promenade, she found that she minded the stares less and less. None of them were trying to hurt her, or even looked at her with distaste. They were simply curious about the small creature walking around with a bundle of things wrapped in shimmering telekinesis. Most of them would smile and nod at her when they made eye contact, and a few even looked embarrassed to have been caught staring. 

There’s nothing to be afraid of here.

She realized that she was getting closer and closer to the cheers. She was able to make out the words now—“Dabo!” was apparently what someone shouted when they won some game. Joyous laughs and pleasant conversation reached her ears, and as she continued to turn, she caught sight of the place it was all coming from; a large establishment with two levels, comfortable lighting, and a larger density of people than most anywhere else on the station. There were numerous tables where people were sitting and drinking or having food, while in the back there were several fat pedestals with spinning wheels in them that people were playing a game at. A second level rested above the first floor, with darker lighting far away from the spinning games, evidentially to give a quieter dining experience away from the loud gamblers. 

“Dabo!” someone shouted again, and the unicorn couldn’t help but smile.

“Well well well, what have we here?”

The unicorn craned her neck upward to see the proprietor of the establishment—a somewhat short, by humanoid standards, man with orange skin, a truly ugly nose, and pointed teeth. The unicorn would have been tempted to think him a monster were it not for his ridiculously lumpy forehead and tremendous ears. 

“You have Sweetie Belle!” Sweetie said, introducing herself. “And you are?”

“Quark!” He said with a grin. “Owner of Quark’s Bar, Grill, Gaming House, and Holosuite Arcade!” 

“Seems like a fun place!”

“You bet your four hooves it is! Though, I’m afraid I don’t have any chairs for you. Don’t get quadrupeds that often, you see.”

Sweetie hopped on top of a bar stool and sat on it, making her face only slightly below Quark’s. “I think I can manage—I’m small enough!”

“Well then… what’ll it be?”

“I have no idea!” Sweetie said, opening her pack. “I have some money, but the Bajorans told me it wouldn’t get me very far.”

“Bah!” Quark blurted, leaning down on the bar’s countertop so he could get closer to her.  “Anyone can turn a little money into much more at the Dabo tables.”

Sweetie rolled her eyes. “I definitely don’t have enough to spend on gambling.”

“The riskier the road, the greater the profit. Ferengi Rule of Acquisition number sixty-two.”

Sweetie shook her head. “Sorry, but no. Some food and a chat might be nice, though.”

“Suit yourself,” he handed her a data pad. “Here’s the menu, see anything you like?”

“My species doesn’t eat meat, is there a way to sort this?”

Quark pressed a few buttons on the pad. “And there you are! For you, I recommend the deluxe Rigelian Grill-Grass.”

“That does sound good…” Sweetie admitted, tapping the words on the menu, bringing up a picture. She could see the fresh blades of lightly-charred grass laying on a plate with a shimmering orange sauce. “Ooooh… Yes, this will do nicely!”

“Coming right u—”

“You should probably know that photo is doctored up quite a bit.”

Sweetie swiveled around on the stool to look at a cat-like humanoid wearing a yellow uniform with a smooth metal chevron pinned on the chest. She recognized the uniform—she had seen several like it on the Promenade. This was a Starfleet officer, of… well, she knew the yellow signified what sort of position he held, but she currently didn’t remember what specifically it was. 

“She already ordered, Ensign,” Quark said with a huff. 

“But she hasn’t paid you yet!”

“A vocal contract is still a contract!” Quark folded his arms. “And now you’re making a little bit of a scene. That’s not good for business…”

“W-well, uh…” the confidence that had been in the cat-person’s face was gone

Sweetie raised her hoof. “I still want the grass.”

Quark broke out into a toothy grin. “And she doesn’t even need your help after all. You Starfleet types, always jumping in to help when nobody wants or needs it…” He chuckled to himself as he went to tell one of the people who worked for him to make the food—rather aggressively, but not exactly in a mean way.

The Starfleet officer started to walk away.

“Wait, don’t go!” Sweetie called, fixing him with a smile. “It’s actually really nice that you tried to help me there—I just didn’t want you to get in trouble over something I was going to order and eat anyway. Thanks!”

The cat-person bowed his head. “You are welcome, even though it was unnecessary.”

“So… why don’t you sit down and talk? You don’t look like you were doing anything.”

“…Oh, sure, why not.” He sat down next to her. “I am Ensign H’roh of the Federation starship Enterprise.”

“And I’m Sweetie Belle! Of.. uh… Equestria, I guess?” 

“Take my advice—don’t turn your introduction into a formality like we do. It gets a little boring and repetitive after hearing it for the thousandth time.” One of his ears flicked subtly as he smirked, looking at her with focused, slitted eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are absolutely fascinating. I’ve never seen a creature like you!”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Sweetie said, smile faltering. “I… am kinda hoping to find someone who knows about people like me.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know how I got here and I don’t know how to get home. Nobody has ever seen anything like me before out here among the stars…”

“Well, I have access to the Enterprise’s computers… let me see if I can look you up.” H’roh tapped the silver chevron on his chest, revealing it to be some kind of communication device. “H’roh to Enterprise, requesting permission to patched into ship’s computer for a basic search.”

“Granted,” a dull feminine voice came from the communicator. “Query?”

“Quadrupedal sapient ungulates with forward facing eyes and a spiral horn emerging from their foreheads.”

“No results found. Most closely matches a creature from ancient human folklore known as a unicorn.”

“Dabo!” someone shouted from the gaming tables.

Sweetie shook her head. “Well, thanks for trying. Really.”

“I wish I could do more,” H’roh admitted. 

“Well, you can tell me about yourself, your ship, and this… place. I’m new and you seem really friendly, and as a good friend of mine likes to say, friendship is magic!”

“Well then… I am what is known as a Caitian, one of the long-standing members of the United Federation of Planets…”


[~~+]


The Federation may not have been the largest power in the Galaxy, but it was by far the most varied. There were over a hundred and fifty member worlds within it, spread over eight thousand light-years—and that only included homeworlds. There were countless colonies, research outposts, space stations, and city-ships like the Enterprise itself that were home to a sizeable chunk of the Federation’s population. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of different sapient species had some presence within the Federation, while the majority of other powers in the Galaxy were defined by one dominant race; even the distant Dominion, who had more diversity than most, still swore fealty to the Founders above all else.

It was often said that the Federation was really no different, and that the humans dominated the population; in truth, humans were just the most disposed to explore the great unknown, so they were generally the species seen most often by the Federation’s neighbors. If one were to investigate the cultural centers, humans would become less dominant, though as a founding member their presence was never completely absent.

This resulted in the somewhat awkward situation of humans being the face of the Federation. Starfleet was the Federation’s primary division tasked with deep space activity, and a sizeable number of the ship captains were human—and the history books that mentioned great captains tended to mention more humans than otherwise. Yet, virtually no human in the Federation would say they were any better or worse than the other members, it just happened that their ambitions had led them to Starfleet rather than another sector.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard, long-standing chief officer aboard the Enterprise, was a man who had already inserted himself into the history books for a wide array of spectacular feats. He and his crew made first contact with the Q, uncovered an insidious plot by mind parasites to destabilize the Federation, defended Earth from the Borg multiple times, and had made an astounding number of scientific discoveries on their journey through the stars.

Picard himself had been offered the rank of Admiral numerous times, but each and every one he had turned down. Perhaps one day he would be too old to run around the stars at maximum warp and could take a more administrative role in Starfleet’s operations, but that day was not today.

Today, he was about to set off on a new adventure.

“Tea, Earl Grey, hot,” Picard spoke to the food replicator, which took the form of a rectangular depression in the wall. The replicator heeded his voice and, with a swirl of bright particles, a mug of the desired beverage was created in front of his eyes. He picked it up with his wrinkled hands and took a small sip. He never grew tired of the taste or the smell—something about it calmed his nerves even when he was already relaxed.

With his piping hot drink, he made his way to the little window at the back of his ready room that looked out to the stars. The first thing he saw was himself, reflected back at him. Most who saw him these days would call him old, though few would do so to his face—not out of fear, but out of respect. His head was completely bald and wrinkles lined his face, yet he still stood tall, his red uniform declaring him to be a member of the command division, and the four pips on his collar signifying his Captain’s rank.

He soon looked beyond his reflection and out to the scene outside. At the moment, there were no ships flying past his field of view, and his ready room was on top of the Enterprise so he couldn’t see Deep Space Nine turning below them. All he could see was the endless expanse of stars that filled the universe.

He could identify several of them. Not Sol—Earth was far too distant from here to be seen—but he identified several stars that marked members of the Federation. None of them were anything resembling close by, and there wouldn’t be until Bajor itself joined, and while that result seemed likely it was ultimately still up in the air. The Bajorans were in a situation to get along just fine on their own with the Wormhole being right in their backyard.

Deep Space Nine was named as such because it was a Deep Space Outpost far from most of the Federation’s infrastructure. Out here, explorers were mostly on their own, and once they were through the wormhole there would be even less at their disposal.

Picard did not consider this a negative—nothing ever got done without pushing the limits a little.

“Captain,” the monotone voice of Commander Data, the Federation’s only android, called over the intercom. “Ambassador Worf has arrived.”

Picard couldn’t help but smile. “Send him in as soon as the rest of the crew have given him their greetings.”

“Oh, we already have. Did not want to rush him.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Nothing at all, Captain.” With that, the doors to Picard’s ready room slid open and Ambassador Worf came in—he was a tall, dark-skinned Klingon with intense angular ridges on his forehead, intense eyebrows, and a rounded beard. He was clearly a tall, strong individual—common for the warrior-culture from which his species hailed. In Picard’s memory, this man had been his security officer in a brilliant yellow uniform adorned with a metallic sash. The sash remained, but the uniform was gone—in its place was a black Klingon uniform that also served as light armor.

“Ah, Worf, it is good to see you!” Picard said. “Come, sit, and tell me how life as the Federation Ambassador to the Klingon Empire has been for you.”

Worf gave the Captain a curt nod and sat down. “It has been… an interesting change of pace, and it comes with its own challenges quite unlike any I had faced before. I have seen battle in many forms, and I can now say that peace itself is a battle, more of wills than of might.”

“Perhaps I should have let you take over for me from time to time, you would have learned that quite a bit sooner.”

“I should have been able to learn it simply by having served so long under you.”

“Some things can only be learned by doing,” Picard folded his hands together. “What those things are changes depending on the people involved.”

Worf let out a grunt that Picard had come to associate with the equivalent of an amused snort. “There is much truth in those words.”

“It sounds like there’s a story there…”

“Less of one than I would like. For the first year I worked tirelessly, improved connections between the Empire and the Federation, started many programs… and I inadvertently made myself lesser.”

“That is not a bad thing, Worf.”

“Perhaps not. Relations between our people have scarcely been stronger.”

“Quite a feat, considering we were shooting at each other not too long ago.”

Worf shook his head. “I cannot take all the credit for that—being allies in a fight against a great enemy is all the Empire needs to recognize a once-thought enemy as a true friend, and the Federation has always sought peace. The groundwork was already laid, I merely sewed the pieces in place.”

“Surely there is more work to be done…?”

Worf looked out the window into the depths of space. “Yes, much, but the people I have instated and the programs I made… are operating themselves. Many days I do nothing at all. There are no duties, no dangers… and few true friends.”

Picard nodded. “We all miss the ‘good old days’ every now and then.”

“Ah, but you are reclaiming the ‘good old days,’ Captain.”

“Perhaps we are… preparing to go off into the great unknown.” Picard smiled. “Naturally, if this were to be a small outing, I would invite you in a heartbeat. But this will be an extended mission and I can’t ask you to leave your ties for so long.”

Worf bared his teeth in a slight grin. “You would be surprised, Captain.”

Picard’s eyes widened. “Are you certain?”

“The foundations have been laid, and others can take my place. There is no more need for me in the Empire. The other Ambassadors are trusted, and Martok has found many friends among his people. And, in truth, I long for the stars just as much as you do.”

“Well… I’m sure there will be some paperwork to deal with. Particularly nasty paperwork that only exists for this particular situation…”

“I’m sure Data can handle it.”

Picard let out a short chuckle. “Indeed…” He took another sip of his tea. “…If you are certain, I may have something for you to do already.”

“Oh?”

“Riker will be taking a team down to Bajor to see if he can illuminate the source of the strange subspace signal. Perhaps you would like to join them?”

Worf bowed his head. “I would be honored to serve once more.”

“Well, I hereby grant you your old rank of Lieutenant Commander as a ‘temporary’ installment until I can get the paperwork sorted out with the higher ups.”

Worf nodded, moving to stand.

“And slow down, Commander. I haven’t dismissed you yet and we still have much to talk about.”


[~~+]


“Why do they call it a Wormhole?” Sweetie asked H’roh as she pressed her face to one of Deep Space Nine’s many windows.

“I’m… not sure. It’s a hole that connects two places of space together, like the holes worms make in fruit?”

“Seems like a stretch to me.”

“Well, I didn’t name it, so…” He shrugged. “I’m surprised it hasn’t shown up yet, usually a ship will pass through by now.”

“I don’t mind waiting a bit, I don’t really have anywhere important to be.” She let her eyes drift to one of the various stars. Perhaps that one was hers? Or that one? Or… maybe that one?

She already knew the chances were slim that she could see it from here. Yellow stars couldn’t be seen from very far away, and given how different the constellations looked it had to be really far away. On the ride here she had come across some nomadic blue-skinned aliens who were able to point to the night sky and say “there it is, that’s our home.”

She really wished she could do that right now.

H’roh must have sensed her saddening mood. “We may not be aware of your species, but perhaps I can help in another way. How did you arrive on Bajor?”

“I was looking for something interesting to do, walking along the outskirts of Ponyville—yes, that’s the name of my hometown, and yes, I already know it sounds ridiculous to all of you.”

“Naming a settlement the equivalent of ‘person place’ is not exactly unheard of.”

“Still a little silly,” Sweetie said. “Anyway, I had found a rock and decided it wasn’t very interesting. And then… I saw something that’s all a bit fuzzy in my memory.” She closed her eyes. “It was… full of colors. Black and red… or… well, maybe not…” She felt a headache coming on that prompted her to shake her head and open her eyes once more. “Whatever it was, I didn’t see it for very long. This… White hole appeared beneath me and I fell through. Next thing I knew I was on Bajor.”

“A wormhole grabbed you?”

“Maybe?” Sweetie said, shrugging by lifting one hoof and rolling the shoulder it was attached to. “It’s my best guess, anyway. Weird thing, though, while it was White on my end, after I had fallen through, I could look through it and see the forest I’d come from. It vanished before I could try to jump back through. Then I was stuck.” She let out a huff. “It’s so… annoying to not know anything. I feel like I should be able to figure out what happened and how to get back but there’s just nothing to go off of.”

H’roh scratched his furry chin. “Well… that doesn’t sound like anything I’ve encountered, even in theory. I am just a lowly warp core technician, though, so wormholes and weird white portals aren’t exactly my specialty.”

“I don’t think it’s anyone’s specialty…”

At that moment, a ship just outside the window approached the great Bajoran Wormhole. Normally, the gateway was entirely invisible, but the moment anything solid approached it, the cosmic vortex sprung to life. There was a bright flash that quickly erupted into a disc-shaped swirl of blue with a glowing core. It was absolutely enormous, dwarfing the triangular ship approaching it by a factor of hundreds. Unfazed, the little ship entered the center of the twist in spacetime and vanished within the glow—a moment later, the wormhole closed with a flash of amber light, once again returning space to its illusory empty state.

Sweetie’s jaw was hanging open.

“Told you it would be awesome!”

“…I want to fly into it,” Sweetie said, eyes all but sparkling with eagerness. “I don’t care that it’s nothing at all like what brought me here, I just… wanna see it.”

“I’m sure you could find a ship to take you through, there are all sorts who journey into the Gamma Quadrant, and that telekinetic ability of yours will make you quite useful.”

“…Can I go with your ship?”

H’roh started. “U-uh, I… I don’t…”

“Ah, okay,” Sweetie said, smiling sadly.

H’roh locked his hands behind his back. “Look, Sweetie, it’s not because I don’t think you’d do great on the Enterprise, it’s just that… I’m an Ensign. A little nobody who does mechanical work on the warp core, usually on the night shift. Captain Picard doesn’t even know my name. I don’t think I could get you on board.”

“Well, it was worth a shot!” Sweetie forced a grin. “I guess I should probably go asking around for ships, huh? Hire myself out as a wizard! …Even though I don’t know many spells, it seems like everyone out here hardly knows any.”

“Spells? You think your ability is… magic?”

“Well I’m sure there’s probably some explanation for it, and Twilight—someone from my home—could probably explain the finer points of the theory behind it, but to most everyone in Equestrian it’s just magic. We unicorns can use our horns to shape it into many different forms. I know telekinesis, acceleration, loud voice, and the basic survival kit; water purification, fire starter, etcetera.”

“There are many races with unusual abilities, but most have specific applications and not such a… wide variety.”

“And I’m only slightly above average at it, Twilight knows thousands of spells. I think.” Sweetie tapped her chin. “I actually never asked her how many she knows…”

“There will be people who want to take advantage of your uniqueness. You should be wary of those who wish to do ‘experiments.’ “

“Yeah… but I gotta start looking for home somehow.”

H’roh glanced at a clock showing station time in one of the nearby pylons. “I have time. I may not be able to get you on the Enterprise, but I can help you find another ship here. A Starfleet uniform gives you some level of recognition, even if you are just a lowly Ensign.”

“You will? Oh thank you thank you thank you!” She started jumping around so quickly and with such excitement that H’roh wondered if she was using that “acceleration spell” of hers. It took quite some time to calm her down enough where they could actually get to work, but once that happened, they set to finding her a ship willing to take her on and through the wormhole.


[~~+]


One moment, it was an empty Bajoran field that hadn’t even been planted yet, though the earth was freshly plowed.

The next, there was a swirl of blue lights and three men in Starfleet uniforms materialized out of thin air. Two wore red and one yellow. One of the red men was none other than Worf, already surveying the area for potential threats and hazards even though they were in the middle of rural country on a peaceful, allied planet. It was his job and he would do it well.

The man in yellow had an unusually pale complexion and an almost eerily smooth haircut that matched his somewhat blank expression. The pips on his uniform were the same number and style as Worf’s, indicating that he was also a Lieutenant Commander. While Worf was looking around for threats, the pale man took out a rectangular scanning device to examine the surroundings.

“The tricorder is not picking up much,” he reported, continuing to move the device all around.

“Is this the right place, Data?” Worf asked.

“Affirmative,” Data said, pressing a few buttons. “The coordinates match, and subspace is still detectably disturbed, though it has almost returned to undetectable levels of fluctuation.”

“Can you learn anything from these fluctuations?” the leader of the away team, a tall man with a bold but short-haired beard asked.

“I can more precisely pin down the point of origin,” Data said, turning until his tricorder let out a beep. “Forty meters that way, Commander.”

Commander Riker nodded. “Then lead the way.”

“I shall take up the rear,” Worf said, falling in line.

Riker couldn’t help but smile in amusement. “Worf, I would say you try too hard, but you wouldn’t be you without that.”

“On the contrary, Commander,” Data called back. “People change all the time. I did not stop being Data when I installed the emotion chip, did I?”

“No… I suppose not,” Riker admitted. “Though I have to admit, sometimes I forget you put that thing in.”

“That is likely because the chip overwhelmed me when it was first inserted and prompted quite a few ridiculous and quite amusing outbursts. Compared to that, my current state seems much more like my old monotone self, with a few bits of flair thrown in here and there.” His usually stoic face broke out into a grin and he tapped his head with his finger before returning to normal. “Such as that, for instance.”

Their journey led them toward a Bajoran farmhouse, the only building anywhere near them.

“In the house?” Riker asked.

“No,” Data said. “Just outside it, we will not need to trespass.”

“Unless we are trespassing on their farmland,” Worf observed.

“If that were the case, I am sure the Captain would have made arrangements for us. As he did not, it must not have been necessary.”

At this point, they heard a woman shout—but it wasn’t in anger or distress, but excitement.

“Hugh! We have visitors, come quick!”

The shout had come from a Bajoran woman in green with long flowing hair. Her husband quickly rushed out of the house, grinning.

“Well would you look at that, you’re right, visitors!”

“Starfleet, no less! I’ll get started on the pie right away…”

“Thanks for the offer, but that won’t be necessary!” Riker called.

“Nonsense!” the woman said with a dismissive hand. “You’re here, and even if you have to go soon you can at least take the pie with you.” She ran back into the house while her husband walked up to them.

“So, you Starfleet types like fields, do you?”

Data shrugged. “The field is irrelevant, though quite aesthetically pleasing in its unbroken state, yearning for new life. Our purposes are more investigative in nature.”

“Oh, science types, are you?” Hugh laughed. “My son wants to be like you some day, he’s always tinkering up some new gadget or other in the basement, crazy kid. And—hey, I know you! You’re Worf!”

Worf tensed, but his chest inflated slightly. “Yes, that’s me.”

“I heard all about what you did on the news! Why, I’ve even been to Deep Space Nine—little Jimbo wanted a vacation in space and who were we to refuse?” He picked up Worf’s hand and started shaking it. “It really is a pleasure, no, an honor to meet you, sir!”

“…Charmed,” Worf managed through a clenched jaw.

“Why, sometimes I wonder if I could be like you, out there in the stars, saving the Galaxy…” the man proceeded to go on and on and Worf couldn’t come up with a good reason to cut him off.

In the end it was Data who came to his rescue. “My scans are complete, Commander. I have determined the precise location where the subspace signal originated.”

“Where?” Riker asked.

“Right where you are standing.”

Riker looked down at the plain, simple dirt beneath his feet. “I take it the dirt’s completely normal.”

“Affirmative. Aside from residual rippling of subspace, this area is completely normal.”

“Not so!” Hugh said. “Why, that spot’s where our little Sweetie showed up!”

“…Sweetie?” Worf asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes! Here, let me show you…” He pulled out a small wallet-like satchel and flipped through several photographs of his family, eventually pulling one out of a little white unicorn smiling brightly at the camera. “This is her! Isn’t she just the cutest?”

“What a fascinating creature!” Data exclaimed, leaning in for a closer look. “I have never seen anything like her!”

“And quite cute,” Riker admitted, noting that the word made Worf squirm slightly. “You say she just… appeared here?”

“Yes, though none of us saw it happen, we just heard her shouting and came running out. Poor thing… she’d just been minding her own business when she was sucked here, away from her home. She thought we were monsters, at first!” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. “But she quickly warmed up to us. Took a bit for her to tell us everything, but after that, well… she was one of us.”

“Where is she now?” Riker asked.

Hugh couldn’t help but look a little sad. “Well… as much as she liked it here, she still wanted to go home to her family, you know? We couldn’t figure out where it was, but the best shot was probably to go looking for it. We sent her off to Deep Space Nine to see if she could find someone more qualified to... well, help her. She probably arrived today.”

Riker let out a chuckle. “Well, team, it looks like we passed the very person we were looking for.”

“So it seems,” Worf said.

“We should probably head back, we’ll want to catch her before she gets off station.” Riker nodded to Hugh. “Afraid we’ll have to miss your wife’s no doubt very delicious pie.”

“What are you talking about?” Hugh shook his head. “It’s probably done by now!”

“Ready!” his wife called, running out of the house with two steaming hot pies. “Here you go!”

Data carefully took the two confections. “Thank you.”

“Hey, did you know these guys are looking for Sweetie?” Hugh asked his wife.

She gasped. “Really? Do you know how to get her home?”

“I do not know,” Data admitted. “However, she is no doubt related to the strange phenomenon we are currently investigating. Perhaps in our studies we shall uncover the answer.”

The woman put a hand on Data’s shoulder. “She really misses her sister… please, I know the pleadings of a little farmer’s wife on Bajor don’t mean much to you, but… get her home.”

“No one should be torn from her home and her people,” Worf said. “I am sure we will do all we can.”

“Thank you.”

Riker tapped his comm badge. “Riker to Enterprise, turns out that what we’re looking for is probably already on Deep Space Nine. Have Major Kira search the station logs for a white quadruped with a horn.” He tapped his badge again. “Riker to shuttlecraft, three to beam up.”

They left in the same manner in which they had arrived—in a swirling whirlwind of blue sparkles.


[~~+]


“Look, horse—”

“Pony,” Sweetie corrected.

The human man put his artificial, metallic fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Look, pony, we don’t take on sob stories, it’s just not good for business. And I’m pretty sure you don’t got the stomach for bounty huntin’, so why don’t you and your little fuzzface friend go bug some other ship, eh?”

“Right, s-sorry to bother you,” H’roh said.

“For a Starfleet officer, you sure look nervous. Dangers of space getting to you?” The man grinned.

“W-we were just going,” H’roh said, leading Sweetie away.

Sweetie sighed. “Well, I liked the look of him and his ship… but he’s probably right, bounty hunting isn’t for me.” She glanced up at her friend and frowned. “Are you okay?”

“This is a lot harder and more stressful than I thought it would be,” H’roh admitted, using a hand to steady himself on a nearby pylon. “So many grizzled captains who know so much more than me… I’m just an Ensign!”

“But you’re an Ensign on the Enterprise! That’s, well, I think that’s really cool.”

“Just a small part…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry Sweetie, it seems I’m not as well qualified to help you as I thought.”

“You kept me from signing up with those Ferengi who probably wanted to sell me.” She shivered. “I still don’t get how people can even do that…”

“There are… many types of people in the universe, Sweetie. Most of them are not as nice as your stories of your fellow ponies.”

“You’re pretty nice, if a bit nervous and stressed.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Sweetie gave him a wry smile. “Only the best of half-compliments for my good friend.”

“Right…”

“Should we try someone else?”

H’roh nodded, pulling out a data pad. “Let’s see here… there’s a group of Bajoran traders heading out to the Gamma Quadrant tomorrow. Maybe them…”

“Enterprise to Ensign H’roh,” a voice came from H’roh’s badge.

H’roh tapped it immediately. “This is Ensign H’roh.”

“Do you, by chance, happen to be standing with a white quadruped with a horn?”

H’roh glanced down at Sweetie with a confused expression. “Uh… y-yes?”

“Hi!” Sweetie waved at the badge. “I’m Sweetie Belle!”

“Perfect. Ensign, please report to the Enterprise with Miss Belle as quickly as you can—that is, assuming Miss Belle is willing to come aboard for a visit.”

“…Yes. Please. Let me onto the big spaceship.” Sweetie opened her eyes as wide as she could manage. “I’m begging you.”

H’roh gave her an awkward smile. “We’ll be there right away. Two to beam up.”

Sweetie blinked. “Two to beam u—?”

The next thing Sweetie knew she was engulfed in thousands of tiny swirling particles of blue. She couldn’t see the station anymore—she couldn’t even see herself, or sense anything. However, before she could fully recognize this, the sensation was over and she was standing on top of a soft yellow pad in a medium-sized room.

“I thought you guys didn’t have magic?” Sweetie asked, blinking a few times in a vain hope that her eyes would adjust faster. “That was a teleport spell!”

“That… was a transporter,” H’roh said. “A machine that takes you from one place to another.”

“A teleport spell machine… hmm… not the weirdest thing I’ve seen, it even sort of makes sense.”

The only other person in the room was a Starfleet officer in a yellow uniform pressing buttons on a console. “Welcome back, Ensign H’roh. Captain Picard would like to see you in his ready room. Both of you.”

H’roh’s eyes widened. “C-captain Picard? Wants to see… me!?”

“Hey, looks like you’re lucky you found me!” Sweetie said. “Now he’ll know your name!”

“The Captain… knowing my name…” H’roh swallowed hard. “W-well, Picard’s not a man to be kept waiting! Come on, Sweetie!” He led her out of the room and into an… admittedly rather boring looking hallway. The floor was gray carpet, the walls were black and lined with numerous screens, most of which were off, and long white tubes cast soft light over the entire corridor. A few other Starfleet officers were walking to and fro among the areas.

H’roh stopped in front of a door that slid open all its own, revealing what was clearly an elevator on the other side. “Bridge,” H’roh called as they stepped in. The doors closed and a soft hum told them they were moving throughout the ship.

Sweetie tapped her hoof on the ground. “Soooo…”

“What is it?”

“If you guys have teleporters—”

“Transporters.”

“—Yes, transporters. If you have transporters, why are we taking the elevator to the bridge?”

“It’s a turbolift.”

Sweetie facehooved. “Why would we need to call it something el—nevermind, I’m still more interested in why we aren’t teleporting everywhere.”

“I think it’s just because it takes so much less energy?”

“That…. sounds reasonable…” Before she could scrutinize it further, they arrived at the bridge.

Once again, Sweetie’s eyes lit up. The hallway and the turbolift might have been boring, but this was anything but. This was where the action happened. Numerous chairs were positioned in the center of the wide room, all directed forward at a massive screen that currently displayed the stars outside. The floor itself had glowing blue lights in it for a purpose Sweetie couldn’t identify beyond “looking cool” and there were numerous consoles that lined most of the walls, displaying everything anyone might need to know about the state of the ship. If only Sweetie could read it.

The man sitting in the center chair swiveled around, fixing the two visitors with a warm smile. “Welcome to the Bridge.”

Sweetie beamed. “Are you Captain Picard?”

He shook his head. “Afraid not, I’m Commander Riker, the Captain is waiting for you in his ready room over there.”

“Great! Thanks!” Sweetie started trotting over there—but she realized H’roh wasn’t walking with her. She glanced back to see him rooted to the spot, staring out at the Bridge with a mixture of reverence and fear. “Uh… H’roh?”

“At ease, Ensign,” Riker said.

That snapped H’roh out of it. “O-of course, Commander.” He quickly scrambled after Sweetie. “We shan’t keep the Captain waiting any longer!”

As they entered the Captain’s ready room, Sweetie’s ears picked up a comment one of the bridge officers said under her breath. “He looks like he needs a friend to stay calm more than she does…”

The door slid shut behind them. To Sweetie’s surprise, there were two chairs set out for them—and one of them was a stool just her size. They had clearly anticipated her problem with normal chairs.

She hopped up onto the stool and beamed at the two other men in the room. “Hi! I’m Sweetie Belle!”

“And I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard,” the Captain said, fixing her with a stern, but nonetheless friendly gaze. “This here is Lieutenant-Commander Data, who asked to be here in order to observe you.”

“You are quite fascinating,” Data said. “Never in all our travels have we come across something quite like you.”

Sweetie rubbed the back of her head. “Yeah… that’s great and all, but it means I’m still no closer to finding my home…”

“Perhaps not,” Picard said, folding his hands together. “You see, we have…” Picard stopped and glanced up at Ensign H’roh, who was still standing. “Ensign, you may be seated.”

“Oh, uh, sorry sir, I was just wai—” H’roh stopped himself mid-word and quickly sat down in the chair provided for him.

Picard returned to Sweetie. “Anyway, as I was saying… we have detected numerous unusual events that sent loud pings throughout subspace. One of those events happened here, on Bajor, coinciding with the time and place of your arrival.”

Sweetie blinked. “You could sense that?”

“It was state of the art technology, but yes, we could. And we also detected several others—yours was just the closest one.”

Sweetie’s eyes widened. “I… I think I’m seeing it now. If where I arrived sent out a ping… where I came from probably did as well!”

Data nodded. “She is a clever one, Captain.”

“Precisely,” Picard said. “However, all the other pings came from unexplored space deep in the Gamma Quadrant.”

“Oh…”

“And it just so happens that is exactly where we are going next,” Data said. “After we finish gathering all the needed supplies, our mission is to investigate these signals, determine their cause, and explore all that lies between them.”

“And you, Miss Belle, are our first lead,” Picard said.

Sweetie grinned. “I’ll tell you everything I know—and please, call me Sweetie. Nobody calls me Miss Belle.”

Picard’s jaw shifted slightly. “Very well… Sweetie.” For some reason, this prompted an amused smile from Data for a fraction of a second. “So… why don’t you start with how you came to be here?”

Sweetie recounted her story once more; what she was doing, the thing she saw, the White that swallowed her, and her time on Bajor. She even discussed meeting with H’roh.

“He’s been a great help,” Sweetie said. “He went out of his way to try and help me find a ship that would take me.”

“And by befriending you he has been a great help to us as well,” Picard said. “It would have been quite tiresome to try to track you if you had left the station already. You have done well, Ensign.”

“Th-thanks, Captain!” H’roh stammered, nerves through the roof, but beaming with pride from the Captain’s praise.

“I do have some questions, though,” Picard said, turning back to Sweetie. “About your home.”

“What about it? You want to hear about magic? Apparently, you guys don’t have much of it out here.”

“Perhaps another time; I am sure you have much to teach us in that regard. I just wish to clarify… your people are not warp capable, are they?”

Sweetie frowned. “You mean able to travel the stars? Uh… no.”

Picard nodded slowly. “You should be aware that the Federation has a law that we are not to interfere with the affairs of pre-warp societies. This rule of non-interference is so close to our hearts we know it as the Prime Directive. We do this because using our power to change a smaller culture can, and has been, catastrophic. The consequences cannot be predicted, and they are extremely far-reaching.”

Sweetie frowned. “Does… that mean…?”

“It does not mean we won’t help you find your home. You have already been exposed to our way of life, there is no reason to keep you from it now. And it would simply be cruel to refuse to take you home for fear of you interfering with your own people.”

“Not to mention pointless,” Data added. “You are not a citizen of the Federation, you would be free to search for your home in an independent ship.”

“The reason I am telling you this is so that you are aware—once we take you home, we will not let you come back.”

Sweetie looked at the ground for a moment, processing. “Everything… out here is so wondrous and amazing and beyond my wildest imagination. I have a feeling we’re going to find so much more just trying to find my home. But… I want to see my sister again.” She looked up, eyes damp, but with a big smile. “Space is great and all, but it’s not home. It’s not family.”

Picard gave her a warm smile. “Good. In that case, welcome to the Enterprise, Sweetie Belle.”

“Thanks for having me.” She lifted her head up high. “Take me home, Captain.”


[~~+]


A single man in a drab, somewhat worn trenchcoat leaned over a desk, carefully waving a rod-shaped device of some sort, pressing it close to a few shards of broken glass. He knitted his gray brows together as the readings came through, appearing on a screen recessed into the wall.

He examined the data, scratching his stubbled chin with a six-fingered hand. “…Fascinating… no residual traces… but…”

There was a soft beep at the door, letting him know someone wanted in.

“Who is it?” he called, tensing considerably. He started to sweep the glass shards away.

“Just T’ora, Doctor Pines.”

“Ah.” He immediately stopped trying to clean up. “Come in, then.”

The woman who entered wasn’t human, though very few would be able to tell that just from looking at her, for the telltale pointed ears of a Vulcan were hidden behind a dome of rounded white hair. The blue of her eyes almost matched the blue of the Starfleet uniform she wore, with two pips on the collar identifying her as a Lieutenant.

“I see you have finally begun the experiments,” T’ora said, glancing at the glass.

“Yes. The results are both promising and confounding. There is no danger, but… there is this curious vibration that I can’t quite isolate.” He pressed his finger to the screen, prompting it to display a complex mathematical waveform. “I think the secret lies here… or, well, this is all we can investigate, since going to the signal locations is out of the question.”

“We have received word that that is no longer the case.”

“Oh?”

T’ora nodded. “The Federation has taken an interest in the signals. The Enterprise itself is being dispatched to the sector to investigate.”

Dr. Pines’ eyes widened. “R-really?”

“I may be a bit more ‘playful’ than my fellow Vulcans, Doctor, but I am not one to mislead without good reason.”

At this, Dr. Pines’ face broke out into a grin. “This is great!” He clapped his hands together. “Hah! With the might of the Federation behind this, there’s no way this mystery will go unsolved!” He whirled around and pointed an aggressive finger at the screen. “Just you wait, mysterious vibration, I’m coming for you!”

“I take it we should inform the Commander of your wish to join them on their expedition?”

“Yes, absolutely, immediately, let’s do that.” He turned and made for the door.

“…Perhaps clean up your mess, first.”

“Right. Sorry, got excited.” He quickly returned to his desk and started saving all the data and carefully putting the broken glass away.

“This excitement seems to be a common trait of yours.”

“What can I say?” He chuckled to himself. “I wouldn’t be Stanford Pines if I didn’t jump at every opportunity to satisfy my curiosity.”

“I suspect your curiosity will never be satisfied.”

“Most likely true, but what does that matter?” He closed the glass away in a little box and dusted off his hands. “It drives me forward, and that’s enough reason to keep listening to it! Now come, we need to prepare… to the Commander!”
> II - Galars
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


II - Galars


It had taken a couple of days, but at last, the Enterprise was ready to leave Deep Space Nine. Despite the tremendous size of the docking clamps and the huge machines required to release the ship, the crew of the Enterprise wouldn’t have known it had happened unless they had been at the docking bay itself. Most of the crew only knew because Picard had announced it over the intercom minutes before it happened.

Sweetie was fortunate enough to be one of the few with a front-row seat for the subsequent journey. She had been invited up to the Bridge for departure, though she didn’t have a chair—she just sat on the ground toward the back, satisfied that she had been allowed up here at all. H’roh wasn’t there, a fact she was mildly disappointed by, but she recognized that he really was just an Ensign and she was, well, the “passenger of honor.” 

She had to admit, it was a little odd to be treated with such respect. Back home she was just barely transitioning into what would be considered an adult—the mark on her flank had been there for a few years, signifying that she had found her special talent in life, and she’d even used it to great effect numerous times. It was… kind of a job, to help other ponies figure out what their destinies were, she supposed. But even when she was working in an official capacity, she was still used to being treated quite a bit differently than she was now. 

They all still wanted to call her Miss Belle despite her insistence that she was Sweetie. Apparently, it just felt weird to them for some reason she couldn’t quite put her hoof on.

As the Enterprise moved away from Deep Space Nine, Sweetie took a look around the bridge. She saw a fair number of the Senior Staff there and at their posts. Picard, of course, took the central Captain’s chair, while Riker sat at his right hand. Worf stood to the side of both of them at a standing console filled with colors and lights that Sweetie had been told were indicators of tactical data. Speaking of Data, the android sat in front of the Captain at one of the forward consoles, continually pressing buttons and occasionally cracking a slight smile at something apparently amusing found within the numbers. 

There was a woman to the left of Picard that Sweetie didn’t recognize—she had dark wild hair and a smooth, wise smile. Sweetie had to think for a moment. Let’s see… H’roh said there were some other members of the Senior Staff… his boss, La Forge, runs Engineering… Doctor Crusher is in sickbay… this woman must be… Counselor Troi! Satisfied that she had identified the woman, Sweetie turned her gaze to the main viewscreen.

It currently just showed space, and not very interesting space at that. Stars slowly drifted across the view as the Enterprise turned toward its destination.

“Course laid in for the Gamma Quadrant,” Data reported, turning around to face Picard.

Picard pushed his hand forward in a gesture of confirmation. “Engage.”

A soft, barely audible hum came from somewhere in the back of the ship as its engines fired, pushing the Enterprise forward. Sweetie couldn’t even tell they were moving—the screen showed only stars, and they remained in the same place they had been a moment ago.

“Approaching the Bajoran Wormhole,” Data said, pressing a few buttons. “Readings normal.”

“Let’s see if those inertial dampeners are really all they’re cracked up to be,” Riker said with a wry smile.

“Inertial dampeners…?” Sweetie asked. 

“They make it so you don’t go flying into a wall when the ship suddenly changes speed,” Riker explained. “They usually make it so you don’t feel anything at all, and the Enterprise’s are state of the art. But I hear the Wormhole’s ride is a little bumpy.”

“Should I hold onto something?”

“It is likely unnecessary,” Data said. “Though I would avoid dancing around during transit.”

“Gotcha.”

“Entering now,” Data reported.

The Wormhole was so much more impressive up close. One moment there was nothing but stars in front of them, the next space itself erupted in a flash of swirling cosmic blue around a yellow glow that might well have been a star. The vortex quickly calmed from its violent appearance, becoming a warm, almost welcoming hole into the unknown. 

The Enterprise poked through the cosmic shortcut, its rounded saucer section first, followed quickly by the glowing nacelles. The view changed rather drastically to the Wormhole’s interior—a dancing show of bright lights and twisting tendrils of energy. Most of the interior was blue and crackled with sparks reminiscent of lightning hidden deep within clouds. 

Sweetie felt the ground tremble, jostling everyone around slightly.

“Inertial dampeners work like a charm,” Riker said with a smirk. 

“They are not as effective as my predictions suggested,” Data said, tilting his head to the side. “There is a half-percent deviation.”

“Maybe it’s just extra stormy today,” Sweetie said.

“Can it even be stormy?” Troi wondered aloud. “Much of it supposedly exists outside of time.”

“…How does that work?” Sweetie asked.

“Good question,” Picard said. “One that has been driving Federation scientists up a wall since it was first discovered.”

“Ah. A good old-fashioned mystery, then.”

“It is both old and new and everything in-between,” Data added. “By the way, we are emerging out the other side, now.”

Suddenly, they flew out of a cosmic swirl into another field of stars. It was a little hard for Sweetie to tell, but she knew the stars weren’t in the same arrangement they had been when they entered. There were no signs of any ships nearby, though there was a little brown dot on the screen—a small probe that sat on this side of the wormhole to continually monitor it. 

“Everyone…” Picard said, standing up from his chair and adjusting his uniform. “Welcome to the Gamma Quadrant.”

Sweetie stamped her front hooves on the ground in excitement. “Where are we going next?”

“Galars,” Riker said. “A Federation research outpost not too far from here.”

“The journey will take a couple of hours,” Picard said, returning to his chair. “Lay in a course. Send out a quick burst, let them know we’re coming. Everyone, as you were.”


[~~+]


“So, let me get this straight,” Sweetie said, setting her milkshake down on the bar. “This place is called Ten Forward because, on the previous Enterprise, there was a place on deck ten near the forward part of the ship that everyone liked to come to in order to relax and socialize. But now that there’s a new ship, and this place isn’t on deck ten or in the front of the ship… you still call it Ten Forward.”

“That about sums it up, yes,” the dark-skinned woman who ran the establishment said. She wore a rather large and ridiculous hat with a flat top and her deep eyes told many stories without needing to rely on any words. “You have a clever one here, H’roh.”

H’roh was sitting on a stool next to Sweetie, twiddling his thumbs.

“What are you so nervous about?” Sweetie asked, slurping on her milkshake. “This is a lounge, a place to relax and enjoy yourself, right?”

“Y-yes… I just… prefer the holodecks.” 

Sweetie raised an eyebrow, turning to the woman again. “What do you think, Guinan?”

“I think he prefers to sit in the back where there aren’t people watching him,” Guinan said. 

H’roh didn’t respond to this.

“But I also think it’s very courageous of him to come up here just to sit by you and keep you company.”

Sweeite nodded, fixing H’roh with a warm smile. “Thanks! I’d offer to go sit where you want, but, well…” She glanced at all the chairs designed for humanoids throughout Ten Forward—really, only the stools were right for her. “Maybe one of the really big chairs…”

H’roh forced a smile. “It’s… all good. It’s probably better for me to be out and about anyway. Actually talk to the crew…”

“You were so much more confident on Deep Space Nine,” Sweetie said. “What happened?”

“I’m a Starfleet Officer, there. That… means something, even if it’s less than I thought. Here… we’re all Starfleet officers.”

“I’m not.”

H’roh chuckled. “But you’re the VIP.”

“I’m still your friend though.”

“And you have more friends than you realize,” Guinan said, setting a plate in front of H’roh.

H’roh furrowed his brow. “…I didn’t order anything.”

“You looked like you could use some waffles.”

H’roh looked down at the syrupy pastry in front of him. “…Waffles…” Something predatory within him kicked in and he began ravenously devouring the food.

Sweetie chuckled, letting him enjoy his meal. She found her gaze drawn back to the huge window that dominated the back wall of Ten Forward. 

The stars outside were moving by so fast they left streaks across her vision. 

Sweetie had asked how the warp drive worked, and after Data had explained it to her, she still didn’t understand. Something about traveling faster than light being impossible without warping space and keying the reference frame and dilithium and antimatter and other stuff that sounded like things Twilight Sparkle would yammer on about when she got too excited. The simple version was that it let them go really, really, really fast, so fast that entire star systems whipped by every few seconds. 

She just thought it looked pretty, how the stars streaked across the window. 

As she was watching, though, the streaks slowed until at last coming to a stop—the Enterprise had dropped out of warp. Slowly, a reddish-brown sphere with a few patches of green drifted into view—a planet. A whole new world.

My whole life I’ve only known Equestria, and now I’m about to set hoof on my third planet. Sweetie broke out into a grin. This is going to be amazing!

As they neared the planet, Sweetie noted that there were two other ships in orbit—a small, rounded, white craft that looked like a miniature, squashed version of the Enterprise and a green winged craft with an elongated neck and a rounded head.

“Hey, what’s that green one?”

H’roh turned to the window, syrup dripping down his fur. He tensed. “Oh boy… Klingons.”

Guinan shook her head. “Don’t let Worf hear you say it like that.”

H’roh shivered at the thought.

“I don’t know much, but aren’t the Klingons our allies?” Sweetie asked.

“They are,” H’roh said. “But they also like… battle. And violence. And being really loud.”

“Hmm…” Sweetie scratched her chin. “I think I’ll decide what I think of them when I see them.”

“Probably best,” Guinan said. “Also, you might want to finish that milkshake.”

“Why?”

The voice of Picard suddenly rang throughout the ship. “Sweetie Belle, Commander Worf, Commander Data, please report to transporter room two.”

“Oh,” Sweetie said. “I probably should have expected that. Um.” She paused. “Which way is transporter room two?”

Guinan pressed her fingers to one of the screens behind her, prompting a yellow arrow to appear, gesturing at the door. “Just follow the arrows.”

“Thanks! Bye, H’roh, see you soon!” Sweetie scrambled off.

“The young are so full of life, aren’t they?” Guinan asked H’roh.

“…I’m not exactly old, Guinan…”

“True, but she’s much younger than you.”

“You can tell her age?”

Guinan nodded. “She still thinks of herself as a child, and carries herself as such, but has the intelligence and wisdom to hold her own. It’s hard to pin down precisely where she is compared to others of her species, but she’s definitely young compared to you.”

H’roh knitted his brow, looking down at his empty plate.

“More?”

“Yes, please.”


[~~+]


Sweetie, Picard, Data, and Riker were the chosen “away team” to go down to the surface, even though as this was an official visit to a Federation outpost the moniker wasn’t technically correct. They were simply to be the first to arrive and perform introductions—after which the rest of the Enterprise crew would be free to come down and those on the surface to come up so long as space and time allowed. 

The four of them beamed down from the Enterprise’s transporter pad, appearing on a nearly identical pad on the planet’s surface—though this one wasn’t inside of a room, but was instead exposed to the elements. A slight, dry breeze blew through Sweetie’s hair, and she already felt thirsty, despite having just drunk almost an entire milkshake. She’d been told the planet was a dry one, but this felt a little ridiculous.

The outpost itself was rather simple, but still impressive to Sweetie, who had very little experiences of space travel to go off of. Of the few dozen buildings, most of them were made out of some kind of white polymer that somehow managed not to get dusty in the dry climate. Most of these structures were devoid of decoration, but a few had signs out front, and some of the larger ones had giant dishes or other glowing technological devices Sweetie couldn’t hope to identify. The Federation’s symbol was plastered everywhere—a blue circle filled with stars and surrounded by a laurel wreath. 

Three people were there to meet them—two in Starfleet uniforms, and one in a somewhat dirty trench coat. The human man in the lead wore a yellow Starfleet uniform and greeted them with a warm smile and a very loud voice. “Hello Everyone! I’m Commander Fischbach, and may I be the first to welcome you to the Gamma Alpha Listening and Research Station!” He thrust his hands out wide and grinned with pride. “But we all just call it Galars. So welcome… to Galars.” He extended his hand to Picard.

Picard shook it. “Well met. As you are no doubt aware, I am Captain Picard. This is my second officer Lieutenant-Commander Data, my security officer Lieutenant-Commander Worf, and our special passenger we messaged you about, Miss Sweetie Belle.”

“Just call me Sweetie,” Sweetie said, extending a hoof to shake Fischbach’s hand.

“Well, aren’t you just the cutest little thing!”

Sweetie beamed. “Thank you!”

“Anyway,” Fischbach cleared his throat. “We’re not as organized as you out here on the frontier, so you’ll have to excuse me. To my left here is Lieutenant T’ora, the woman who keeps almost everything running around here, and the mad scientist with the glasses is Doctor Pines. He knows the most about those signals you guys are so interested in!”

Sweetie looked up at Pines, tilting her head to the side. There was something… different about him, and not in the way that the different species were different from each other. He was human, clearly, and the glasses were a bit odd but not crazy, and—

Oh. The six fingers. That was probably it.

He must have seen her staring because he lifted up his hand and flexed his fingers. “Yes, they’re real.”

Sweetie blinked. “I didn’t think they weren’t.”

Pines clearly hadn’t been expecting this response, because he raised an eyebrow—and smiled. “Six fingers must not seem very strange to you at all. Any number of fingers must be out there.”

“Not really, there are lots of creatures with fingers from my home. Just not us ponies!”

“I would love to hear so much about your home…” Pines said, adjusting his glasses. “But first, I believe we have a more large-scale mission to discuss. These… unusual signals.”

“Naturally,” Picard said. “Though there is no rush.”

“Nonsense, there’s always a rush if you want there to be!” Fischbach pointed his hand into the sky. “Let’s get this show on the ro—”

Fischbach’s comm badge beeped. “Commander! Fred just blew out a pylon and is screaming bloody murder!”

“Be right there!” Fischbach tapped the communicator. “Give me an hour, I’ll have this sorted out. They don’t call me the Commander Engineer for nothing!” He took off at high speed, leaving T’ora and Pines alone with the Enterprise team.

T’ora cleared her throat. “I will let your ship know it is okay to begin transporting down, if that is alright with you, sir.”

Picard nodded.

“In that case, welcome to Galars. I’m afraid there’s not much to do here that your ship doesn’t already offer, and your presence will be more of a vacation for us than for you. But please, make yourself at home. The Commander is regularly off handling one broken machine or another, so if he is ever unavailable, you may call me at any time.”

“Thank you,” Picard said. “Is there, by chance, a tour we could take?”

“It isn’t much, but I can do one myself.”

A message came through her communicator. “Lieutenant… sensors just detected a Dominion ship entering the system.”

“…What!?” Worf shouted.


[~~+]


Riker stared at the dark, flat ship with purple highlights that vaguely reminded him of some kind of flying insect. It was quickly growing larger on the screen. It was one of the smaller ships—no match for the Enterprise even on a bad day—but still, it was concerning that they were here at all.

“…Hail them,” Riker ordered. “Let’s see what they’re after.”

A moment later, the screen replaced the view of the Dominion ship with a face—one of a species Riker recognized but had never actually met in person. Humanoid, but with long ears that ran down to the jaw with numerous lines within that gave the earlobe a stratified appearance. This was a Vorta, the managerial species of the Dominion, the ones designated to be commanders and politicians, not warriors. They were below only the Founders themselves. 

This particular Vorta was one of unusually pale complexion with sunken eyes, wiry hair, and a large exposed forehead. He was attempting to smile pleasantly, but his face was not one that could look pleasant. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Riker asked.

“Jumping ahead of the greetings, are we?” the Vorta asked, lifting his chin up ever so slightly. 

“Some consider me a man of action,” Riker said. “But since you aren’t being aggressive… I’m Commander William Riker, currently in command of the Federation starship Enterprise. You?”

“This ship has no name, as we generally do not assign value to any individual craft over another, but I myself am Girweym.” He leaned in a little closer, making his head fill much of the view screen. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Commander.”

Riker glanced at the rest of the crew on the bridge. Most were part of the secondary crew, as much of the Senior Staff was away on the planet or off doing something else. Every last one of them looked nervous, like they expected something to explode at any moment.

Riker was not these people. If things were going to explode they either would have already or were going to explode much, much later. His confident, slightly amused expression did much to calm their nerves.

“Assuming you harbor no ill-intent,” Riker eventually said, “then it is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mister Girweym. So… what brings you to a distant Federation research outpost?”

“Curiosity.”

“Oh? About what?”

“Namely? What out here is so interesting that the Federation is willing to send one of its prized possessions out into… dangerous territory.”

Riker took a step forward. “The Enterprise is not a ship of war; it is a ship of exploration. We have detected numerous anomalies in this sector of space that require an advanced starship to investigate. Our mission is not classified, you can look it up yourself, though I suspect you already have.”

“That is indeed the case…” Girweym took a few steps back from the screen, clearly not having gotten what he wanted out of this conversation, whatever that may have been. “It just so happens that we, too, detected signs of the same series of anomalies and are quite curious ourselves as to what it all means. Though, we were not granted a vessel as advanced as yours for this purpose.”

“The Federation places great value in furthering scientific knowledge, and our Captain chose this assignment specifically.”

“Indeed…” Girweym folded his hands together. “Regardless, I have a… minor request, as well as an offer.”

“Oh?” Riker lifted his eyebrows. “I’m listening.”

“We wish to know what you have uncovered about the signals. In return, we will share what we have uncovered.”

Riker was more than a little surprised by this offer, and it must have showed.

“We are aware there was a single signal near Bajor, one we were not able to detect as well as the others. However, we have many more listening posts than you on this side of the Galaxy.”

“I’ll have to discuss things with Captain Picard, but something tells me he’ll honor your request.”

“Good. Let me know.” With that, Girweym cut the connection. 

Riker let out a breath. “Well, things just got interesting… they want to work with us.” Riker turned to a Lieutenant. “Hail the Captain.”

“Aye, sir.”


[~~+]


Picard did, in fact, grant Girweym’s request, though only after clearing it with Commander Fischbach first. This was to the immense displeasure of the Klingon commander in orbit, Ko’hen, but he was an old Klingon whose ire quickly died out. He came to the meeting with the rest of the leaders, but almost immediately he was asleep in his chair—fortunately not snoring, otherwise someone would have to wake him up, and nobody wanted to wake up an old Klingon captain.

Picard and Fischbach sat representing the Federation, though they both knew that was more Picard’s job—Fischbach was to have more of the role of mediator, and representative of Galars. Girweym came only with one guard who would remain silent the entire time. Said guard was a tall, muscular being with blue scales and numerous small horns known as a Jem’hadar, the Dominion’s soldier class. He was so still and silent that people continually forgot he was there until they glanced in his direction.

The only other person in the room was Doctor Pines, but he wasn’t there as a representative. He… was a scientist.

He gestured at the main screen with a laser pointer. “…And you can see here all the locations we have pinpointed of the subspace signals. We have their relative locations pinned down to within half a light-year in the worst case, and the timing of all of them is nearly the same—if not exactly so, for all but one case.”

“The case in the Alpha Quadrant,” Girweym said, folding his hands together.

“Exactly!” Pines declared. It seemed as though he couldn’t care less that he was talking to a representative of a galactic superpower that had slaughtered millions in very recent memory—everyone else had the wherewithal to be pensive and guarded, but not Pines. He was a man of science and here was someone who showed interest that was, if not genuine, then at the very least heavily motivated. “The signal on Bajor occurred after all the others. Even within our error bars, we are certain of this. Now, if the rest of the signals were simultaneous or not, that is still up for debate.”

“Not on our end,” Girweym said, taking out a purple disc and placing it on the table, projecting a holographic representation of the sector block. “We were able to triangulate from dozens of listening outposts and narrow down the timing to the microsecond. Every last one within this sector occurred at exactly the same time, though the duration of some of the signals were longer than others.”

“…Can you transfer this data to our computers?” Pines asked, staring at the hologram like it was the holy grail.

“Naturally.”

“After a security check is run,” Picard said.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Girweym said with a wry smile. “In fact, we will be doing the same to any data you send us.”

“Understood.”

“Glad we’ve come to an understanding.”

Pines cleared his throat. “Anyway, I myself have spent most of my life studying subspace phenomena, poking at the fabric of reality so to speak, and these last few weeks I have absolutely poured over all this information. I went out to investigate the closest signal, hardly two light-years from here, but gained little information.” He flicked his wrist and the computer screen switched to show a dull watery planet. “This world, G-98-J, is where the closest signal occurred. An ocean world with a handful of islands and no life more complicated than a microbe, though they’ve done a good job of oxygenating the atmosphere. We gathered exact location data only a day after the event itself occurred, and have… well, learned a lot of things about the nature of subspace I’m sure will make great waves in the field of physics for decades to come, but you’re not here for that.”

“No, but do continue,” Picard said.

Pines nodded, flipping through several slides of complicated graphs and spacetime diagrams. “…Anyway, besides that, we have noticed a few odd similarities to the two events we have managed to observe up close, G-98-J, and Bajor, have a few curious similarities. First of all, both are M-class worlds with near-standard gravity, and even more curiously, both of the signals appeared roughly two meters off the ground. Over land.” He returned to a picture of G-98-J. “The chances of finding land randomly on this planet are rather slim; yet find it these signals did. Even with just two data points, the odds are not in favor of this being a truly random phenomenon.”

“An intelligence?” Picard suggested.

“Impossible to say,” Pines said with a shrug. “We only have two data points, and while there are striking similarities, there are also differences. The location, for one, is much further away, unless you count the Wormhole as a direct passage. The timings are different. And then, of course… there’s Sweetie.”

Girweym grinned. “I was wondering if you were going to tell us about her. I was wondering why I didn’t see her here…”

“This is not her place,” Picard said, flatly. “She is simply a lost traveler looking for her way home.”

“Plus, this would probably bore her,” Pines added. 

“Fair enough,” Girweym said, leaning back. “Though, tell me, what exactly does she have to say about this whole affair?”

“She claims to have been whisked away from her homeworld to Bajor by a white portal,” Picard said. “Unfortunately, there was no one else to see this, and she admits her recollection of the event is rather muddled.” He narrowed his eyes at Girweym. “Since you seem to know of her… do you know of her species?”

“There are no records of ‘unicorns’ in the Dominion databanks,” Girweym said. “And we did some rather serious searching, you understand.”

“Could there be some in the Sector Block among all these signals?”

Girweym nodded. “We have barely charted that region of space ourselves with distant probes. Why, our charts of this very system are horribly out of date and incorrect. We have not detected any signs of active interstellar civilizations in the region, however, and that is something we actively look for.”

“Neither have we!” Fischbach declared. “We point our dishes up there and listen and don’t hear anything rippling through subspace! Well, aside from those nomads who passed through a while back, they were nice. And then all this went down and all our alarm bells went off woo-eee lots of stuff broke down that day.”

“The current working theory is that these are micro-wormholes,” Pines said. “Though what would appear as the White Sweetie described is unknown.”

“Perhaps each signal was one end of a portal opening?” Picard suggested.

“Yes, that is precisely what I believe.”

“So they likely connected to each other, a series of tunnels.”

“That is certainly possible, but we have no way to tell. As you can see here…” He flipped through some slides. “Our surveys of G-89-J didn’t turn up anything unusual aside from the signal itself.”

“Perhaps nothing came through… or perhaps something left,” Girweym suggested. 

“Theories abound, but information does not,” Pines said. “That is why it is imperative we go deep into Sector Block 3120 and perform detailed scans on all the signal locations in order to draw connections. If they are truly wormholes or portals of some kind, we should be able to map them out. If not, the correlations will lead us to further conclusions.”

“To what end?”

Pines blinked. “I’m… not sure what you mean?”

“What is the end goal of this investigation, what do we hope to accomplish?”

Pines frowned. “To… uncover the secrets of the universe?”

Picard wasn’t sure why, but Pines had suddenly become nervous—which would not have been odd save for the fact that he had been completely calm up until that moment. Perhaps he feels as though the validity of his field is being threatened.

“Really? Do you see… nothing else coming from this?”

Picard cut in to Pines’ rescue. “He may not, and there need not be a lofty end goal for research. However, I myself see many end goals. These portals seem at least partially deliberate, which means they may be controllable, which opens up a potential for faster interstellar travel. Subspace itself is a rather mysterious undercurrent to us, even though we rely on it excessively to move almost every starship in the galaxy. And furthermore, this Sector Block is unexplored and devoid of any advanced civilizations, so far as we can tell, so more detailed surveys will open up new colony opportunities.”

“Colonies!?” This, at last, got a rise out of Girweym—but the outburst did not wake Ko’hen. 

“No galactic power has laid claim to these worlds,” Picard pointed out. “The Federation has no interest in all of them, you are free to settle here as well.”

“You are invading our side of the galaxy…”

“This is hardly an invasion, we are far from Dominion borders, and the Treaty of Bajor permits such activities.”

Girweym was seething but remained silent.

“That said, colonies are far off, a dream for a future generation, perhaps—for both of us. Your Founders should be able to appreciate an ability to look into a future beyond the lengths of our individual lives.”

“Yes… they do,” Girweym all but hissed. 

“Then perhaps consider that future when you’re talking to us, here, today.”

Picard knew from Girweym’s silence that he’d gotten enough of the message through his thick skull to return to another topic. 

“So, shall we consider a joint mission?”

“No,” Girweym said, flatly. “The Dominion is prepared to deal in information as an exchange, not to become part of any operation with you in it.” He glanced to Pines. “Do you have anything else of interest to say?”

Pines frowned. “Not… exactly. The finer details will be in the data report.”

Girweym suddenly stood up. “Then send it to my ship. I will remain on this world until then to make sure everything runs smoothly, but once we have the data, we will leave orbit and you will be free to act however you wish… within the agreements you have signed.”

“Agreements which say essentially nothing about this area of space,” Picard reminded him.

He wasn’t sure Girweym heard him as he stormed off. 

“Friendly fella,” Fischbach noted.

“He wants to be in charge of the situation,” Picard said. “Yet as much as he tries, he cannot. He is clearly a lower Vorta, sent on this mission because he wasn’t important and was very expendable. Had the Enterprise not been present, he may have attempted to push you around. But in the current situation, he cannot, and he despises it.”

“Such a sad man,” Pines observed.

“He truly is.”


[~~+]


Sweetie stood on top of one of Galars’ buildings, letting the dusty wind blow through her mane. She had a plastic cup with a straw semi-permanently stuck to her face, constantly intaking water to offset the feeling of dryness she felt. Yet, despite this discomfort, she still felt awe. She looked out over the dry expanse of the local ecosystem, spying tremendous, curved rocks that rose into the sky with sharp points that had been wind-blasted into them. 

It truly looked like an alien world. 

“I don’t see what you see in the rocks,” H’roh admitted. “There are far more interesting formations on other worlds.”

“I’ve hardly seen any worlds!” Sweetie said. “And while Equestria has some amazing scenery, none of it quite looks like that. That’s far… sharper! More menacing, even! It’s great! Oooooh, I wish the girls were here… Scootaloo would probably try to ride her scooter right up it. Apple Bloom would probably be complaining about how dry it is out here, though…”

“Your friends?” H’roh asked.

Sweetie nodded. “Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. The three of us are inseparable! We…” She frowned. “Well… we were, anyway.”

“I’m sure you’ll get back to them eventually. That’s part of why we’re out here, isn’t it?”

“Yep! Still… I miss them. I bet they’re worried about me too, it’s been weeks. To them, one day I just went out and vanished with no explanation.” She took a long, thoughtful slurp of her water, and eventually decided it was time to go do something else. “Come on, let’s look around some more.”

H’roh was of the mind there wasn’t anything left to look around for, but he followed her anyway. 

She descended the stairs back down to ground level and had a look around. At this point, a large number of the Enterprise’s crew were walking around, mingling with the inhabitants of Galars. A lot of them were wandering around aimlessly, looking a little bored. There weren’t any restaurants on Galars, and the entertainment was largely in the holodecks, and the Enterprise had those as well—better ones, too, if Sweetie was to believe the rumors she heard. She was actually really interested to try one out for herself, but that could wait until they were in deep space without a planet to explore.

There was one group that didn’t seem all that bothered by the lack of things happening—the Klingons. There were only a few of them on the surface, but they were always easy to pick out due to their rowdy conversation and boisterous laughs. They were clearly the same species as Worf, but they wore their hair much wilder, their uniforms were darker with significantly more armor, and they openly carried bladed weapons. 

However, one Klingon in particular was standing all alone, looking rather displeased with everything.

That Klingon was Worf.

Sweetie decided he needed some cheering up.

“…What are you doing?” H’roh hissed.

“I’m going to go say hi to Worf.”

“What!?”

“You heard me.” She trotted right up to Worf, leaving H’roh behind, and cleared her throat. “Hello, Lieutenant-Commander!”

Worf looked down at her in surprise—his forward gaze had not picked up on the approach of her small form. “…Greetings, Miss Belle.”

“Sweetie, if you don’t mind.” She plopped her flank on the ground next to him. “Watcha lookin’ at?”

“My brothers and sisters of battle,” Worf said, returning his gaze to the Klingons. 

“They sure seem happy. I’m glad they’re having a good time, since it seems like a lot of people find this planet boring. I don’t.”

“This is not the time nor the place for my people to be… happy.”

“Why not?”

“Fo—”

Whatever Worf was about to say was cut off by a Klingon with disheveled armor and some kind of goblet in his hand. “Ah! Look what the Federation dragged out here, Ambassador Worf!”

“I am not currently acting as Ambassador,” Worf said, standing straighter.

“Bah! It’s how the Empire shall remember you, the brave warrior who fought for peace! Hah! Peace!” The Klingon seemed to find this funny because he chuckled to himself and lifted his goblet to his lips—annoyed to find it empty. “Geh, no more blood wine.”

“Perhaps you have had too much to drink.”

“Me? Too much? Were you another I would challenge you for that remark! You do not know the legends of Bakur, warrior of fire, master of the torpedo, and river drinker!” He let out a great belly laugh and lifted his empty goblet to his mouth again, this time seemingly not noticing that it was empty. 

“Do you not have duties to attend to with a clear mind?”

“Duties!?” Bakur scoffed. “We are a survey ship. Sent into the unknown to just… be. There is no battle out here unless the space itself decides to attack. There is no glory.”

“It is necessary work nonetheless.”

“We have all these Federation allies, why not have them do it for us?” Bakur spat. “Then all Klingons can be what Klingons should be—warriors! Slayers! Heroes! I know you see it too… you are displeased to be out here…”

“Quite the opposite. I left my position as Ambassador specifically to be here.” Worf took a step toward him and bared his teeth. “And I will take great pride in the ‘surveying’ work I am about to perform in this unknown land.”

Bakur stared at him in shock. “You… hah! You’re funny.” Bakur shrugged and turned around, stumbling slightly. “Hey everyone, turns out the great Ambassador’s a joker!”

Nobody, not even the other Klingons, paid him much mind.

“Geh… soft, every last one of them.” Bakur clenched his fist. “It’s like they saw battle in the war and decided they didn’t want anymore… they should be ashamed to call themselves Klingons.”

Sweetie could see Worf get angry. For the first time, she actually felt fear from being in his proximity, but she didn’t budge—and he didn’t act on his impulses. He simply let the drunken Bakur stumble away to somewhere else in Galars. 

“…What was his problem?” Sweetie asked.

“He was drunk.”

“I got that, but… geez, you think he really believed all he was saying?”

“…Unfortunately, yes,” Worf said with a shake of his head. “Too many of my people desire battle for battle’s sake, not for any purpose. To act as he does is to act without honor. To fight, to be a warrior is to take up arms for a purpose.” He turned to her, beginning to speak with more emotion. “Glory for the empire, protection of the people, claiming of territory… these and things like them are what bring honor. He should be proud to be surveying this sector, for he will battle with the unknown and provide much for the Empire. If he is not recognized for it, it should matter little—he will have served honorably.”

Sweetie pondered this. “Is… everything battle to your people?”

“We are a race of warriors,” Worf said. “It is our way.” 

Sweetie wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about this, and she didn’t pry any further. However, she could tell that her interest had improved Worf’s mood somewhat, despite the run-in with Bakur. Worf was far removed from the types of people Sweetie usually met, she had to admit, but she was already beginning to see him as a potential friend. She hoped he thought the same, though she doubted it—from her experience, people out here among the stars weren’t quite as eager to make friends as back home.


[~~+]


Data pressed his finger to the ringer outside one of the Enterprise’s many doors.

“Come in!” Pines called. 

The doors slid open and Data entered. The quarters had already been converted into a small personal lab. Most of the furniture had been moved to the sides to make way for desks, computers, models, and numerous devices instrumental in the study of subspace phenomena. It was not, however, fully organized—half-unpacked boxes littered the room, and many of the devices were clearly just piled up in a corner so there was a place to put them. That said, one place was clean and tidy—the table in the center of the room whose surface was actually a screen. It was currently displaying the Federation’s map of the mysterious subspace signals.

“Do you need any assistance?” Data asked.

“Nah,” Ford said, waving a dismissive hand. “This is clean enough to get work done, I’ll have time to re-arrange in transit.” He pulled a dusty old book out of one of the boxes—a red tome with a gold-leaf design of a six-fingered hand with the number one proudly displayed on it. He shelved it with a bunch of data pads. 

“A book?” Data asked.

“Sometimes you just want physical paper,” Ford explained, going back to rummaging through the box. “It just feels different, you know?”

“…I am afraid I do not, as I am an android. Tactile sensations are quite different for you than they are for me. I prefer direct interfaces to physical ones.”

“Ah… perhaps I would as well, had I your artificial mind. Alas, I have this flesh-bag to walk around in, and it happens to like the feel of paper and pens.”

“I do paint with physical brushes, though.”

“You paint?”

Data nodded. “Prior to installing my emotion chip, I used it as an attempt to understand what it meant to be human. I am not sure it succeeded, but I continue because the habit is gratifying. Though I still do not have a great grasp on what qualifies as ‘good art.’ “

“Neither do I,” Pines admitted. “There is awe that comes from looking at a beautiful thing… but where does it come from? What drives us to perceive things that way?” He shrugged. “I don’t know, and I don’t think I ever will. There are many other experiments of far greater importance than those that would pin down the definition of ‘art.’ “

Data found himself agreeing with this assessment, though he said nothing further, instead turning his attention to the map of signals on the table. “This is a great mystery.”

“It’s the mystery of a lifetime, Data,” Pines said with a grin. “A series of cosmic coincidences that we know little about, but what we do know makes it all the more interesting. Portals, curious similarities, the timing… this is something special, Data.”

“It could be years before any satisfactory answers are uncovered,” Data reminded him. “We are the first investigative wave, actual answers may take decades of research.”

“That’s why I’m here. I have the knowledge and credentials to figure this out. I just need more data…” 

“And time.”

“Yes, time.”

The door beeped again.

“Come in!” Pines called

The door slid open, and Sweetie jumped back. “Woah, it just… knew I wanted it to open. I didn’t even use my magic to press the button…”

“You are very fortunate you have that telekinesis of yours, Miss Belle,” Pines said. “You are in a realm of fingered beings, hooves alone would be immensely inconvenient.”

“My size is inconvenient enough… oh, and please, it’s just Sweetie. Not Miss Belle. You’re not a Starfleet officer, right? Can you…?”

He smiled. “Of course I can put aside formalities, I’m not much of a fan of them anyway, Sweetie. You may even call me Ford!”

Sweetie beamed. “Thank you, Ford!”

“Glad to be of service.”

Data tilted his head. “Curious. Many have found her first name awkward to say aloud in regular conversation.”

Ford shrugged. “It’s just a name, not a word. Just because your name is Data doesn’t mean I think about information every time I say it.”

“I do. The definition of my name is held actively within my positronic net whenever I consider it.”

“Positronic net…?” Sweetie blinked. “What…?”

“My brain is artificial, not made out of neurons like yours or Ford’s here.”

“Artificial.” Sweetie blinked. “So you’re not just some pale-skinned species?”

“No, I was constructed.”

“Huh.” Sweetie tilted her head to the side. “I couldn’t tell.”

“My creator was very thorough in designing me.”

“But not all of us are lucky enough to have blueprints to tell us what we are.” Ford drummed his fingers on the table. “Which brings us to why you’re here, Sweetie.”

Sweetie nodded. “You wanted to see me do magic, right?”

“Exactly.” Ford pressed a button on one of the computers, prompting a soft hum to begin. “Demonstrate however you wish.”

“Should we not be doing this in a full lab?” Data asked. 

“I have access to everything I need here, including her medical records.” Ford waved his hand across the screen, revealing a report filed by Doctor Crusher the day before on Sweetie.

Sweetie felt a little odd seeing a three-dimensional model of her spinning around on the screen with portions of it cut away to show organs and bones. It looked like a half-zombie pony version of her. She noticed a lot of words and arrows were pointing at her horn—not that she could read any of it.

Shaking her head, Sweetie returned her focus to the task at hoof—to demonstrate the use of magic. That was easy enough, she simply lifted a data pad off the nearby table with her telekinesis. “Tah-dah!”

One of the screens shifted to show a live feed of her horn with numerous dots flowing along the helical groove starting from the base and going to the tip.

“Fascinating…” Ford said, scratching his chin. “I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking at.”

“Neither am I,” Data admitted.

“Though neither of us are biologists, so perhaps we should send this down to their department later.”

“Agreed.”

“You know,” Sweetie said. “I was a little concerned about how interested people were in me at first. I expected samples to be taken and a lot of needles… but, like, you guys have all these nice scanners I can’t even feel.”

“The wonders of modern technology!” Ford declared with a chuckle. “Now, can you try one of your other spells?”

Sweetie nodded, lighting her horn and accelerating herself. She zipped across the room quickly enough to create a small gust of wind. “How’s that?”

“Good…” Ford said, examining the results. “Well, I still have no idea what I’m looking at, but there is a discernible difference between the two spells. It may be possible to tell what you’re casting just by scanning your horn. I can already see how the fine-structure shape of the horn channels the magic into many different conduits… the mechanism is unknown, but the complexity is evident.”

“You don’t seem at all weirded out by calling it magic.”

“What is magic but sufficiently advanced mechanisms we do not understand?” Ford asked.

“I… am not sure!” Sweetie said with a dumb smile.

“Neither am I, for sure, but I am eager to find out! Now… what else do you know?”

“Got any kindling? I can start a campfire.”

“Let’s not test the Enterprise’s automatic sprinkler system.”

“Ooooh, yeah, good idea.”


[~~+]


Sweetie returned to Galars after she was done giving Data and Ford all the magic data they could ever want—at least, that she could give. She was no master wizard or anything, they were lucky she knew more than just basic telekinesis. Twilight Sparkle could not only have given them a lot more but also could have spoken about actual arcane theory and other stuff that Sweetie didn’t have any clue about. 

Though part of her wondered if even those simple scans would tell the Federation more about unicorn magic than anything any great Equestrian wizard had ever uncovered. She was fairly sure she’d never seen a diagram of a unicorn’s horn as detailed as the one on Ford’s screen. Their technology really was amazing, like a magic all its own.

“Sufficiently advanced mechanisms…” Sweetie said, chuckling to herself as she walked around the edge of Galars. She’d already seen all the sights—that had not taken long at all—but she couldn’t bring herself to say there was nothing left on the dry world to experience just yet. After all, they would be leaving soon, and then they probably wouldn’t come back here. She should get as much time in as she could on this alien world!

The wind blew some dust into her face and she entered a coughing fit. Once she managed to get her sputtering under control, she lifted a hoof toward the vast, dry expanse before her. “I’m not going to let you keep me from enjoying this! Go on, throw dust in my face!”

The wind did not oblige and instead started blowing perpendicular to her.

“That’s what I thought.” Sweetie turned her back to the dry expanse and trotted back to Galars itself. She thought about tracking down Worf—he was the only one she knew was still down here—but her plans were put on hold when she noticed the Dominion walking around, in the open. 

In the middle was a man she knew had to be Girweym, but all things considered, he wasn’t that interesting. It was his two guards who were absolutely fascinating—tall, purple, horned, and very aggressive looking. Unlike the Klingons, they showed no sign of joy or rowdiness; they were ordered and disciplined, never faltering from their duty.

Both of them were looking right at her, clearly thinking she could pose a threat. 

Girweym noticed her much later than his guards, and he broke out into a wide toothy smile and approached her, his guards walking in line with him. 

Sweetie considered running away; there was something about these three that she simply did not like at all. But she figured that would be unfair to them; even if they had been the bad guys, the war she’d heard about was over, they didn’t have to be bad guys anymore.

“I was wondering if I would ever get the pleasure of meeting you, Miss Belle.”

Sweetie decided correcting him was probably not wise. “Um… well, I’m here now!” She forced a smile. “Did you want anything…?”

“I would love to examine that horn of yours…”

“Doctor Pines already scanned it and performed some tests, you can ask him for the, uh, data.” 

Girweym took a step forward and Sweetie immediately took a step back. “Oh, I’m not sure he’d be willing to share with me. You see, it’s not part of our agreement, and the Federation isn’t particularly fond of us. It really is a shame…”

“Um…” Don’t say anything stupid, don’t say anything stupid, don’t say anything stupid. “W-well maybe if you prove yourself to be more trustworthy they’d be willing to help you more!”

Evidentially that was the wrong response since Girweym’s face turned into a snarl. “What do you know? You know little of the Federation and nothing of the Dominion. You have heard only their side. Had you appeared on our side of the wormhole, perhaps you would currently be asking them to be more trustworthy to us!”

You probably would have cut my horn up to figure out how it works. “M-maybe…”

“The world is one of many perspectives, and you have only been given a narrow one… enlighten yourself. See the foolishness of the Federation. See the weakness. They wander aimlessly wherever their whims guide them—in the Dominion, everyone has a purpose. Everyon—”

“Leave her alone,” Worf said, marching up to the conversation defiantly. Both of Girweym’s guards tensed.

Girweym slowly backed away from Sweetie. “And the Klingons, the Federation’s dogs. Sometimes they turn around and bite, but otherwise played like puppets on a string.”

Worf bristled but did not retaliate. “Come, Sweetie, we are leaving.” He turned and led her away. Girweym did not pursue them.

“Thanks,” Sweetie said. “That… I didn’t like that at all.”

“Neither was he fond of you.”

“All I did was… try to be helpful and optimistic.”

“Men such as him resent help the moment it is offered.”

“How sad…”

The two of them passed by Bakur, still as drunk as he was before, perhaps more so. He didn’t make eye contact with them. He was clutching a small sack to his chest so hard his knuckles had turned white.

Worf suddenly stopped moving. 

“What is it?” Sweetie asked.

Worf pulled out his phaser—a smooth, white weapon with a rounded handle and an angled front with a slit—and pointed it at Bakur. “Put it down, Bakur.”

Bakur froze. “So, you will keep me from fulfilling the honorable duty of all Klingons?”

“What is going on!?” Girweym demanded. 

“Stay back!” Worf called at Girweym. “He has a bomb!”

Girweym went even paler than he usually was and scrambled backward. Both of the Jem’hadar readied to defend him with their own energy weapons.

“Hehehehehh…” Bakur started chuckling. “Look at this, Worf! There is an opportunity for glorious battle!”

“We will not start a war over one drunken Klingon,” Worf said. “Now put it down.”

“I do not need a war!” Bakur spat. “I need a battle! A battle with a true enemy.”

“And a bomb will do that?”

“Oh, no, a bomb will just trigger one.” Bakur grinned. “Are you to become my enemy?” He lifted up the bag into the air with one hand, the other moving toward his phaser.

“Don’t!” Worf shouted.

“Why not!?” Bakur narrowed his eyes. “Do you fear for my life, that the Jem’hadar will shoot me in the back when they believe they can get away with it? Oh, believe me, I want them to try. Or do you fear that I will kill someone with this bomb? But where is honor without some bloodshed, Worf? Where is the battle?” Despite the fire and anger in his words, his eyes told another story—they spoke of great sorrow and inner turmoil, of a man who wanted nothing more than his purpose in life back.

“There are other battles to be fought.”

“Not for me. Not anymore.” Bakur grinned. “I have a bomb on a Federation base with visiting Dominion forces. I have crossed a line I cannot come back from. And I do not want to! So face me, Worf! Give me honorable battle!”

Worf did not budge.

“Then I will make you!” He threw the sack at Girweym. 

It landed on the ground at his feet, falling flat. There was nothing in it.

“…What?”

“You’re probably looking for this,” Sweetie said, levitating a metallic cylinder with red lights out from behind her head. “You were talking for so long I was able to levitate it out.”

“N-no…” Bakur stammered. “You... you can’t!”

“Just did,” Sweetie said. “Now you can stop all this nonsense about battle and go back t—”

Bakur whipped out his ranged weapon and pointed it at her.

Sweetie’s heart skipped a beat.

A blur of white and black rushed from the side, kicking Bakur in the chest while simultaneously chopping him across the arm, knocking the weapon out of his hands. The blur proceeded to grab the startled Klingon by the chest and suplex him over his back and onto the ground.

“FOOL!” Ko’hen shouted at his subordinate. “Were your parents targs!? Do not sully the Empire’s victory with your feelings of inadequacy!” 

“I will not have this dish—”

Ko’hen smashed his head into Bakur as hard as he could. The force was easily enough to knock Bakur out cold.

“Fool. Absolute fool.” Ko’hen grumbled. 

“W-well, I thank you, master Ko’hen,” Girweym said, clearly shaken by the entire experience.

“You are not welcome,” Ko’hen retorted as he dragged Bakur away.

“Why you…” Girweym took one look at the old Klingon’s wild eyes and shut up. Rather than engage with the aged warrior further, he turned his gaze to Sweetie. “And I believe I owe you my thanks as well.”

Sweetie allowed herself to breathe. 

This made Girweym smile. “Not prepared for the consequences of your actions? Oh, little pony… you are heading out into the unknown, where things far worse than a drunk, stupid Klingon await.” He tapped something on his wrist. “Get us out of here.” A few seconds later, they were transported back to their ship.

Worf immediately put his phaser away and leaned down to examine Sweetie. “Are you all right?”

“I’m… fine.” Sweetie blinked a few times, holding a hoof to her chest to help steady her breathing. “That was… kind of… exhilarating, actually…” She laughed nervously. “And scary, and dangerous, and… a bunch of other things…”

The slightest hint of a smile crawled up Worf’s face. “You have a warrior’s heart.”

“Oh no no no no no!” Sweetie shook her head rapidly. “I’m not a warrior! N-nope! Definitely not!”

“A warrior’s heart need not lie in a warrior, Sweetie. You acted when it was needed, and your heart pounded with the thrill of battle for perhaps the first time.” He nodded at her respectfully. “Not all of which Bakur spoke was a lie.”

“Um… thanks?” Sweetie really wasn’t sure how to respond to this—but Worf apparently didn’t need her to, for he stood up and immediately began a report to the Captain. 


[~~+]


“So, why do we need to stand on the transporter pad?” Sweetie asked as she climbed onto Galars’ pad. “You can beam in and out of anywhere.”

“Efficiency,” Data explained. “Having an origin and destination uplink is excellent and draws much less power.”

“Ah,” Sweetie said. “I guess that makes sense.”

The two of them were standing on the pad with Worf, Picard, and Ford. 

“We’re really gonna miss ya, doc!” Fischbach said, slapping Ford on the back. “Won’t be the same without you!”

“No… it won’t,” Ford said, giving him a weak smile. “Until we meet again.”

T’ora stepped forward. “I will see to all that you have left here, do not worry. Everything will remain in order.”

Ford nodded. “Thank you. I am in your debt, more than I think you realize.”

“That may be true.” She lifted up her hand and divided her fingers down the middle, two on each side. “Live long, and prosper.”

Ford attempted to give the gesture in return but with his six fingers he couldn’t figure out what to do with the middle one—take it to the left, or the right? 

This prompted a slight smile on T’ora’s face—a sight that was, for some reason, shocking to Picard and Worf.

“I startle you so,” T’ora said, lifting up her chin. “Surely you know not all Vulcans hold to logic as tightly as rumors would suggest we do.”

“My apologies,” Picard said, bowing his head. “It is simply a rarity to come across one like you, we made an assumption, perhaps one we should not have made.”

“There is no need to apologize, it is only expected, though it is… curious.” She nodded curtly to Ford. “They will do you well. Go forth into the unknown.”

“I don’t understand why they’re all saying these things,” Sweetie whispered to Data.

“I will explain later,” Data whispered back.

With these goodbyes, Picard tapped his communicator. “Picard to Enterprise. Five to beam up.”

With a swirl of blue sparkles, they left Galars behind and soon after headed out into the great unknown…
> III - Special Issue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


III - Special Issue


“So… this leads to the holodeck,” Sweetie said, looking up at a door larger than most of the others on the Enterprise, and unusually wider than it was tall. Given how virtually every structure on board was standardized and repeated over and over, the existence of something different gave weight to the entrance that it didn’t really deserve.

“Yes…” H’roh said, looking at the doors with wide eyes. “The holodeck…”

“…Well, what are we waiting for, let’s go in!”

“Right!” H’roh lit up with a sharp, pointed smile. “You’re going to love this…” As they stepped forward, the door slid open, revealing a large room devoid of any and all decoration—it was cubical, silver, and had sharp yellow gridlines running all over. The walls were lined with lights and thin metal rods that crisscrossed in a diamond pattern. 

Sweetie tapped her hoof on the black ground, getting a dull thunk in response. “Huh.”

“Not what you were expecting?”

“I didn’t really even try to think about what it looked like when it was off.”

“It’s actually on right now.” H’roh gestured back at the door they had come through—it was gone, replaced with the black and yellow gridlines.

Sweetie started. “…We’re not trapped, right?”

H’roh chuckled. “Not at all. Computer! Door!”

The door appeared with a slight humming noise. 

“Okay, good. So… you say you can make anything appear?”

H’roh nodded. “Computer, create a mirror clone of Sweetie.”

Suddenly, Sweetie was looking at an exact copy of herself that moved exactly as she did. It was like looking in a mirror—except the image wasn’t flipped. Even her expressions were matched perfectly. 

“Wow, amazing!” Both of them said at once in exactly the same way, prompting both of them to jump back in startled fear. 

H’roh chuckled. “Computer, remove clone.” The image vanished. 

“Do I really sound like that…?” Sweetie wondered, blinking. 

“Never heard your own voice before?”

“I mean, not from somewhere besides me.” She shook her head, clearing herself of the startled mood. “So, am I allowed to ask how it works, or is it too complicated?”

“It’s a little too complicated, but the basic idea isn’t too hard to grasp. The various walls are lined with emitters that shoot out light in very specific patterns to create any three-dimensional image you can think of—we call these images holograms. Now, basic holograms can’t be touched or otherwise interacted with, but with specialized force fields and some carefully applied replicator technology we have figured ways around that.”

“So… if you can make anything, what sorts of things do you like to do?”

H’roh grinned. “Computer, run program H’roh-Three.”

Suddenly, the room was gone. Sweetie was standing on a sidewalk in the midst of a great city, larger than any she had ever seen, but one that reminded her a lot of the city of Manehattan from her homeworld. The city was populated entirely by humans in such a wide variety of different clothes Sweetie couldn’t take all the outfits in—some were reminiscent of things she’d seen back home, while others were completely alien, such as the short shorts or strange wired things that ran into the ears. 

“Woah…” she said, looking all around. “If… if I run that way, will I hit a wall?”

H’roh shook his head. “The computer is able to make the ground move beneath your feet without you realizing it. We can even walk in opposite directions and be fine—the computer will just create two instances within the room and create a ‘wall’ between them so we can feel like we’re miles away.”

“Cool…” Sweetie held her hoof to her eyes, squinting at the sky. “What’s that…?”

“That’s what makes this program so amazing.”

A human man was flying through the sky, a blue cape flapping in the wind. Suddenly, he dropped to the ground less than a block away, landing in front of another man with stubble on his face and striped clothes. He had a rather large sack on his back.

“Stop right there, citizen!” the flying man declared.

“Hey! You can’t stop me; I stole this money fair and square!”

“…That is precisely why I have to stop you.”

The robber glared at him—and then turned to run away. The flying man shrugged and dashed over to the robber with super speed and picked him up by the shirt collar, quickly hanging him by a nearby tree branch. With a wink, the hero picked up the sack of money, presumably to return it.

“This is just like Spike’s comic books,” Sweetie said, blinking.

H’roh gasped. “You have comics on your planet!?”

“Uh… yes? I don’t know much about them, but Spike was a fan of one about a group called the Power Ponies.” 

“When we find your world, you’ll have to send me some! I… there’s something about comic books that just speak to me. But my people never made them. The best ones come from Earth’s late twentieth century. Those comics are what I used to construct this holodeck program!” H’roh held out his hands. “A land of heroes, villains, great power, and action! Computer, activate my supersuit!”

Suddenly, H’roh was wearing a bright red sleeveless outfit with a twintail cape blowing in the wind. A large blue hourglass symbol was emblazoned on his chest, and a red bandanna mask went over his eyes. “Say hello to… The Time Cat!”

“Time Cat?”

“Yes. In this program, I play the hero Time Cat, who can stop time.”

“Oooh, do I get to be a hero too?”

“Sure!” H’roh said, clapping his hands together. “What kind of powers would you like?”

“Hmm…” Sweetie tapped her chin. “I always wondered what it would be like to be a super mage… why not just enhance my magic?”

“Hmm. We don’t understand how that works very well, so it probably wouldn’t feel right. But we do have a lot of fictional magic systems you could use from other programs! I think the simplest one to use…” He cleared his throat. “Computer, give Sweetie a Grimoire of the Elements, and key it to her front hoof motions.” 

A large book appeared in front of Sweetie, floating in midair while it flipped through numerous pages. Each page had a bunch of strange arcane writing on it, but it also had pictures showing the effects of whatever spell was on the page and a series of hand motions used to cast it.

“Oooooo…” Sweetie’s eyes sparkled. “Let’s see…” She reared up on her hind hooves and twirled both of them in the air, launching one forward. A fireball shot out of her hoof and hit a nearby stone wall. “Awesome.”

“You can stand on your hind hooves a lot easier than I thought you could… I figured that would be at least a little difficult for you.”

Sweetie shook her head as she reared back up and stood solidly on her hind hooves. “It’s not exactly comfortable, but I could walk around like this if I wanted.” She dropped back to all fours. “But that would get really tiring really fast.”

H’roh nodded and, after a moment of silence, cleared his throat. “Computer, load scenario three.”

The scene changed slightly—the buildings remained the same, but the time of day adjusted to late afternoon and there were fewer people about. Three shady individuals in particular caught Sweetie’s attention—dressed all in black and walking around as though they were sneaking, even though they were in broad daylight.

“Ah, you’ve seen them, good,” H’roh said. “In this scenario, those three guys are about to commit a robbery and our job is to stop them.”

“Our job!?” Sweetie blinked.

“Well, yes! What did you expect to do in a superhero program?”

“I… good point.” She glanced around. “None of this is real, and none of it can hurt us…”

“That’s right.”

Sweetie glanced at her magic book. “In that case…” She grinned mischievously. “Charge!”

H’roh laughed, running along behind her.

Sweetie jumped onto her hind hooves and performed  several hoof motions, releasing two fireballs and a burst of blue lightning out at the poor robbers. The three men scrambled, but two of them comically ran into each other, flopping onto the ground out cold. 

The third drew a sword and hacked at Sweetie.

“Woah!” She called, ducking to the side and rolling. “Hah! You missed!”

He raised his sword again… only to suddenly stop moving mid-slash. He wasn’t breathing or blinking anymore. 

“Huh?” Sweetie waved a hoof in front of his eyes. “What gives?”

“Ah… right,” H’roh rubbed the back of his head. “The computer can’t stop your time, just the time for all the holograms. That kind of breaks immersion…”

“Maybe your power is just able to selectively not stop your friends?” Sweetie winked at him. “You just discovered a new part of your ability!”

“Heh. Maybe. Anyway…” H’roh pulled back a fist and punched the last robber. Time resumed, and the punch sent him flying into a nearby wall. Sweetie knew the explosion of dust and rubble that resulted from this was physically impossible, but she had to admit, it did look pretty cool.

As soon as the dust cleared, the robber flopped down onto his face, bruised and down for the count. 

Then the holodeck doors manifested right overtop of the dust cloud and Ford walked in. 

“Sweetie, I was looking f—” he looked up from his data pad and examined the rubble, H’roh’s supersuit, and the magic book Sweetie was holding. “…Oh. I appear to have walked in on something, forgive m—”

“Don’t worry about it!” Sweetie said, trotting over to him. “What did you want?”

“I was just going over some of the data we got on your magic and wanted to see if you knew anything about it… does this look familiar to you?” He showed her a strange shape with numerous spiky branches coming out of it. 

“No idea.”

“Well, it was worth a shot, figured you might have seen an inner diagram of the horn while at school or something…” He shrugged, turning to leave… but then stopped himself, glancing back at the scene of the superhero battle.

Sweetie gave him a smile. “Do you want to join us?”

“I don’t know… never been much of a man for superheroes myself…” 

“Sounds like you’re just trying to justify going back to work instead of having fun.”

“Well… nah, you two look like you’re having fun, and I’d rather save my time… with… unless…” He walked back into the holodeck and looked around, scratching his chin. “Ensign H’roh, are there fantasy programs available?”

H’roh nodded. “More than I could possibly count.”

“And can the computer draw from them to create custom scenarios on the fly?”

“Absolutely.”

“…I used to play this game as a kid, Ogres and Oubliettes… This holodeck could be put to supreme use…”

“You’ve never tried before?” Sweetie asked.

“Didn’t think about it until just now.” Ford turned around. “Yes… yes, this could work. But…” He shook his head. “You two are having your superhero funtime, and I wouldn’t want to intrude with my fantasies of dragons and magic.”

“…Why not both?” H’roh suggested. “Fantasy superheroes.”

Ford blinked. “Why have I never heard of that idea before?”

“No idea.”

“Let’s do it!” Sweetie said. “Magic superheroes on a grand adventure go!”


[~~+]


“Captain, scanners are detecting radio signals coming from interstellar space,” Data said, turning around in his chair. “The computer is unable to decode any message, if in fact there is one.”

Picard nodded. “Any danger to an investigation?”

“Not that I can see, as it is coming from seemingly empty space.”

“We all know that doesn’t mean very much,” Riker said. 

“Oh, yes, I am quite aware of our track record with investigating mysterious signals,” Data said. “Thirty-two point seven percent of them turn out to be something completely unexpected and many of those are regularly dangerous—though the precise fraction depends on the definition of ‘danger’ being used.”

“Nonetheless, we are here to explore,” Picard said. “Hone in on the signal and take the Enterprise in.”

The Enterprise banked slightly to port, slowing its warp factor considerably in order to meet the desired angle. Less than a minute later, the ship dropped out of warp and appeared in interstellar space. The main viewscreen showed a bunch of stars—and a single speck drifting across the frame.

“Enhance,” Picard ordered. The screen blew up the image, allowing them to make out a small, cylindrical object with four antennae on each end and a few softly blinking blue lights. Half of the cylinder was covered with what appeared to be a mask, although it only had one softly glowing eye. 

“A sub-lightspeed probe,” Data reported. “It doesn’t appear to have any particular destination.”

“Could this be an equivalent of a Voyager probe?” Picard asked, standing up to get closer to the screen.

“Potentially,” Data said. “Perhaps the mask is meant to show us what the constructing species’ faces were like.”

“A pre-warp civilization,” Riker mused.

“A pre-warp civilization whose probe managed to get out into deep space,” Picard added. “If they advanced as quickly as humankind, they could easily be warp-capable and with many colony worlds by now.” He glanced back to Worf. “Danger assessment?”

“Nothing coming up on preliminary scans,” Worf said. “There are no weapons, and the probe seems rather inert.”

“I can attempt an uplink,” Data said. 

“Make it so,” Picard ordered, sitting back down in his chair and relaxing somewhat. “With luck, it will tell us something about this area of space…”

Suddenly, every light on the Bridge increased to ten times the usual intensity—and just as suddenly everything returned to normal.

“Data…” Picard said.

“The uplink went as expected,” Data said, tilting his head to the side. “There appears to be nothing inside.”

“That wasn’t nothing.” Picard sighed. “Run a full diagnostic on every system on board, twice. Something caused that surge; I want to know what.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Continue scanning the probe, but we will forgo taking it on board until we figure out what just happened. Any theories, Data?”

Data shook his head. “Too little information. Clearly, something in the uplink influenced our systems in a way we are currently unable to quantify.”

“I want it found, and I want it found quickly.” He folded his arms. “I’m not risking going to warp with a potentially corrupted computer system.”


[~~+]


“In the Age of Swords and Sorcery, the land of Eyskar was a simpler place; but mankind is never satisfied when things are simple. At its end, one man looked upon the peace of the world and found it sickening. In his foolishness, he vowed to attain power that would shake the world to its core, ending the seeming monotony with whatever he thought worthy of his interest. 

“He made it his personal quest to steal that which ought to remain in the hands of the gods, the power divine, that which shaped the world at its birth and will one day shape it at its end. He crossed kingdoms, braved great wildernesses, and encountered many amazing things—and yet, in his deluded mind, none of this was worth anything compared to what he would unleash. 

“And so he arrived at the Thrones Above and put his plans into motion, using all he had learned to steal the power of the gods for himself. However, for all his preparations, for all his determination, he was still a fool who did not understand what life meant. The power could not be contained within him, for he was but one man, and so it rejected him utterly. 

“But the power he stole could not return to the gods, so it spread out across Eyskar, seeking out souls worthy. No one man could hold the power, but small fractions could awaken within the spirits of any found suitable, bestowing upon them great abilities. Each fragment of the power had its own criteria for who was worthy, criteria often in direct opposition to the ideals of the gods as a whole, leading to the overall chosen seeming completely random. 

“And when random people are given great power… even in times of peace and prosperity, there will be those who seek only their cruel, selfish ends; for the heart of man is proud, and when given the power to voice that pride, chaos erupts.

“Overnight, the age of Swords and Sorcery had ended. In its place rose the age of the Chosen. 

“It has been two hundred years since that day. Most of the Kingdoms that once existed have now fallen. War erupts around every corner. The free people of the world are at the whims of the Chosen, for they cannot defend themselves… other Chosen must do it for them, if they are so inclined.

“It is in this age where we find ourselves…” Ford dusted his hands together and grinned. “A good setup, wouldn’t you say?”

Sweetie and H’roh were staring at him with wide eyes, completely engrossed in the world he had just described.

“Now, I’ve fed the parameters into the computer so it can come up with an adventure for us, but this is our setting. Now… who are we?”

H’roh, for once, spoke up first. “I am Hirose Korbasta, and while I do not know it, I am a long-lost princess of—”

Sweetie snorted. “Princess?”

“Well, it just seemed to fit better to be a princess rather than a prince in the story…”

“We can adjust that,” Ford said. “While I normally would suggest playing whatever and whoever you’d like, there is immersion to worry about here and, well…” He gestured at H’roh’s obviously masculine appearance. 

Sweetie tapped her hoof. “What if the princess is disguising herself as a were-cat or something?”

“That works,” Ford said with a chuckle. “Anyway, H’roh, do continue.”

“Yes. Ahem. As I was saying, I am playing Hirose Korbasta, a long-lost princess—well, more the descendant of one, anyway. I have been gifted as a Chosen with the power to stop time, a highly precious ability that has both hero and villain associations alike vying for my power. …Oh, that’s why I’m disguised, so people won’t know who I am.”

“Great!” Ford said. “Sweetie?”

“I am Arcanist Illuvistar,” Sweetie said, striking a pose. “I am not a Chosen; rather, I reject the way of the Age of the Chosen and instead focus my efforts on learning the ways of the old magic! I have had to study extremely hard to get to my current level of proficiency and have a huge head because of it. All you Chosen just had power given to you, you don’t have the brains to use it properly! Hah!”

“Well done,” Ford said with a nod. “Now… I am a man known only as Scalp, a Chosen with the ability to turn any nonliving object he touches into a sword. I refuse to speak of my past, but it is not too hard to find out that I am wanted in seven different kingdoms for brutal assassinations, usually of corrupt rulers.”

“Oooh, vigilante justice,” H’roh said.

“Precisely!” Ford said. “Now… computer, begin the adventure!”

They were suddenly standing on a dirt road in the middle of a forest. 

“It appears we are on the road between towns,” Ford said, scratching his chin. “These trips never end well, so be on your gua—”

A dozen creatures emerged from the forest, screaming in rage. They were black, roughly the texture of obsidian, and had only one leg but retained two hands with razor-sharp claws. 

Ford stamped his foot, turning the dirt beneath them into blades that thrust up and skewered many of the oncoming creatures, at which point they flickered and poofed into blue sparkles of dust. Sweetie quickly whirled around, casting a force field from her grimoire, following it up with a series of fireballs.

H’roh stopped time, forcing all of the remaining enemies to freeze. However, this did not immediately guarantee victory, for while they were frozen they could not be moved, and anything Ford and Sweetie did that left their persons quickly froze in time as well.

Sweetie used this as an excuse to cast fireball a dozen times at once of the monsters. When time resumed, she would get them all at once. She was looking forward to seeing how big of an explosion that would make. 

It did not disappoint. The spheres of flame interlaced with each other, increasing their heat tenfold—an increase that the holodeck liberally interpreted as worthy of turning the flames bright blue. The shockwave rushed knocked everyone down, snapping a few nearby trees in the process and disintegrating all the attacking creatures.

Sweetie quickly stood up and shook her head. She didn’t even feel scraped by that, though the tumbling had made her a little dizzy. “Wow, those safeties really are something.”

H’roh chuckled. “You would have gotten us all killed.”

“But I didn’t! We’re superheroes! Yeah!” She started bouncing around. “Oooooh, you know what? This is actually a really good way for me to get better at dealing with danger! There’s a lot of nasty stuff out in space as everyone keeps telling me, but in here we can deal with nasty stuff without it going wrong! Practice!”

“It most certainly is,” Ford said, leaning down to investigate the remains of their enemies. “However, right now, the adventure is presenting us with a mystery. We do not know what these creatures are, but they must have been attacking us for a reason.” He started rummaging through the obsidian-like shards that remained of the creatures. “Let’s look for clues…”

“Oooh, I might have a spell for that, hang on,” Sweetie started rapidly flipping through her book. 


[~~+]


Data was currently in one of the many service tunnels on the Enterprise. These tunnels aboard starships had been known as Jefferies tubes for centuries, heralding all the way back to an old 22nd century engineer by the name of Jefferies, though few people knew this fact, and even those who did had very little idea what he did to have an entire type of service tunnel named after him. 

The Jefferies tubes were regularly used by engineers of all sorts to access vital systems directly, for pipes, wires, and other transiting pathways tended to run along the tube edges where they could be easily accessed by simply prying off a wall panel, which was exactly what Data had done. He was currently running a cylindrical device over a data cable that ran to and from the main computer. 

“Data? What are you doing down here?”

Data didn’t look up from his work—he knew who it was, Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge, the chief engineer of the Enterprise. “I am currently attempting to run a diagnostic on the computer’s self-diagnostic software. Naturally not something that usually needs to be done, hence my occupying your Jefferies tube.” 

The dark-skinned man leaned in next to Data, examining what was happening with his artificial eyes. “Hmm… there doesn’t appear to be anything wrong, but if that was the case you wouldn’t be looking into it.”

“Precisely. There is nothing that would overtly trigger an alarm, all systems are running normally and within acceptable parameters—however, there are minor errors cropping up in seemingly random places on the ship. Such errors are not uncommon, but they are happening with much larger frequency than what one would expect from something ‘random.’ See this right here?” Data pointed at a line of data that was running across his tricorder that was well organized and suddenly jumbled. 

“That could just be caused by a cosmic ray flying through the walls.”

“Yes. Which is why the diagnostics are not catching them, I believe. But there are far too many of them to be caused by cosmic rays. In addition, our detectors are picking up fewer incoming rays than usual.”

“…Take it this means I won’t be turning the warp core on anytime soon.”

“I am afraid not, Geordi.”

La Forge nodded slowly. “So, we encounter a probe and as soon as we try to read it, everything goes bright and we don’t get any information. We check under every rock and don’t find anything that should cause us concern… but, well, we just know something ain’t right.”

“We do have quite solid reasons for suspecting something unusual.”

“Yes, but… well, according to protocol we’ve run all the checks we need to and the ship’s ready to go. We just don’t feel like the protocol’s enough, y’know?”

“I believe I do,” Data said with a slight nod. “Our experience has taught us that, just when we think everything is taken care of, it is not. And so we dig further than we otherwise would.” Another anomaly crossed by on Data’s tricorder.

“Right… I see a few explanations for this,” La Forge folded his hands together. “The probe tried to do something to our computer systems but couldn’t, and is now flying around it haphazardly in tiny, hard to detect fragments with no purpose, hence why these appear to be showing up in random places—because it is random, the code has no more direction.”

“I had thought of that.”

“Alternatively, it’s not fragmented and still in one piece, it just has no idea what type of computer system it’s looking at and is supremely lost and confused, trying to do… whatever its purpose was, and failing miserably, giving it the appearance of being random.”

“I had not thought of that; however, the theory I am currently operating under is quite a bit more worrying.”

“Oh?”

“It is not fragmented, and it is not lost. It knows exactly what it is doing, so much so that it knows how to cover its tracks almost perfectly. It wants us to believe it is not there and is cleaning up as much as it can and moving all over the ship when diagnostics occur so it misses the ‘beam sweep.’ For a full diagnostic, the computer spends a fair amount of resources and time.”

“Enough time for a smart enough AI to move out of the way.”

“Precisely,” Data said.

“Let’s say this ominous idea of yours is right. How can we check to make sure?”

“Reprogramming the diagnostic routines to move unexpectedly and see if anything turns up.”

“That…” La Forge let out a low whistle. “That’ll take some doing, there.”

“I am aware. I have already begun, but I could use assistance.”

“I’ll get a team on it right away.”


[~~+]


Sweetie found it more than a little amusing that the spell she’d dug up to track the origin of the obsidian creatures manifested as a large blue arrow that balanced on top of her horn like a compass needle, pointing them in the direction they needed to go. Already they’d had to face several beasts and Chosen, crossed many fantastical lands, and encountered over a dozen quirky travelers. The nice part about the holodeck program was that it allowed the boring parts of travel to be glossed over; if they were ever walking through some forest for more than a few minutes, the land would blur until something interesting occurred or they came to another area.

Through all this, the arrow continued to point their way. 

“I wonder what we’re going to find at the end of this,” Sweetie thought aloud as they slid down a sand dune. 

“I don’t know, isn’t it delightful?” Ford asked with a huge grin. “There’s probably some dark evil that needs vanquishing, but I can’t figure out what it is! The computer’s done a real good job at keeping me guessing so far…”

“And it’s thrown some really interesting fights our way!” H’roh added. “That guy who could predict when I was about to stop time and set up the super mirrors was something else!”

“I just like being the wizard for once,” Sweetie added. “So much… stuff I can do.”

“Don’t get too used to it,” H’roh cautioned. “Or else you might think you can do it in the real world.”

“Good point. In the future, let’s stick to me using my normal magic. But, today, today gets to be fun! Wooho—AUGH!” 

The sand suddenly gave way beneath Sweete’s hooves, revealing a gaping hole that descended deep into the ground below. She was unable to do anything as she fell in. Ford was taken with her. H’roh stopped time, preventing the sand from collapsing further, but he was already falling and he couldn’t stop his own descent, nor the descent of his allies. 

They collapsed onto hard, flat sandstone with a series of oofs. 

“…Perhaps we should have been on the lookout for traps,” Ford muttered as he stood up.

“In the middle of the desert?” H’roh asked.

“I mean, you don’t expect to see one there…” Sweetie shook her head. “So naturally you’d want to put them there so people might fall into them.”

“But how will you know your prey will walk over the right spot?”

“Maybe you don’t?” Sweetie lifted up one of her hooves and rolled her shoulder in the equine equivalent of a shrug. 

“Sweetie, light?” Ford suggested.

Sweetie didn’t even bother using her spellbook for that, she just lit her horn up, casting a soft glow around them. They were in some kind of sandstone chamber adorned with a mysterious script none of them could read. The surface of the desert was far above them, so that wasn’t really an option for escape, which left just a single darkened doorway that stood in front of them. 

“Well, at least the arrow points that way,” Sweetie said. 

The three of them walked into the doorway and soon found themselves in a much larger chamber. Sweetie started looking for a light spell since her horn couldn’t illuminate the entire space, but before she could get anywhere, torches with blue fire lit up along all of the walls, revealing the area to be a throne room. 

And what a throne it was—carved of solid gold and decorated with eye-shaped engravings that wrapped all around it in a complex weblike pattern, each pupil represented by a precious gem of some kind. It was far too large for a human to sit in, but its current occupant seemed right at home. She was of a humanoid shape, but her skin was completely white and eerily smooth. She wore simple white robes that went all the way to her ankles, and a mask with a single blue eye hid her face. 

“Oh. Look. You’ve arrived,” she said with the most monotone, disinterested voice any of them had ever heard. “Perhaps I should throw you a party.”

Sweetie moved her head left and right, noting that the arrow was pointing right at the mysterious woman. “…Who are you and why have you sent obsidian monsters to attack us?”

“Curiously, I have no idea. It sure sounds like something I would do, though.” She suddenly stood up, making it glaringly obvious how much bigger than them she was. “I am Miss Glai. You have fallen into my catacomb chambers. That means you belong to me, now.”

“I doubt that very much!” H’roh said.

“Ah. The truth. A moronic truth, but a truth nonetheless.”

H’roh blinked a few times. “…Eh?”

“You are clearly a rung or two lower in the brains department than your two companions here. I didn’t even have to observe you to know that. But I have. It confirmed it beyond my wildest expectations.” Throughout all this, she maintained the same disinterested monotone. 

“Intelligence isn’t everything!” Sweetie said. “He’s really strong!”

“Then I encourage him to take me out.”

H’roh wasted no time—which is to say, he froze time and charged Glai.

Glai suddenly moved even though time was stopped and kicked H’roh right in the chest, throwing him to the back of the room, cracking the wall behind him slightly.

“Careful. Hundreds of years from now archeologists will scream in rage at the priceless artistry you just destroyed.”

Ford pushed his glasses onto his nose. “Whatever makes you immune to his ability… it is not all that makes us! We can defeat you, foul wench!” He slid his foot along the ground and a sandstone sword rose up, ready to attack.. 

Glai stepped on the sharp point with her foot. The blade crumbled to dust. “My, how pointy.”

Sweetie cast fireball. As she expected, the flames passed right over Glai without leaving a single mark.

“Okay, you’re strong,” Sweetie said, clicking her tongue. “Maybe we’re not supposed to win by fighting…”

“The unicorn arrives at the reasonable conclusion first. Yes. You cannot win.”

“I didn’t say we couldn’t…”

“You are welcome to keep trying. Once you are done, we can get to business.”

“What business?”

“I have prepared many trials in the rooms beyond this one, trials to test you as… ‘adventurers,’ yes, let’s go with that. Adventurers.” She gestured behind the throne to an archway lit by blue torches that led deeper into the catacombs. 

“It looks like we have no choice,” Ford said as he helped H’roh back to his feet. “Though I do wonder… what do you gain from this?”

“Entertainment.”

“You don’t seem like the type to do things just for entertainment.”

“Believe what you wish, you’re the ones who have to go through the deep chambers up ahead. Go along now, don’t try anything funny.”

“Us? Try something funny?” Sweetie gave her cute, innocent eyes. “What do you take us for?”

“Do take this a bit more seriously, if you annoy me enough I can just kill you.”

“Oooh, how scary.”

“…An expected response. Nonetheless annoying.”

She sure doesn’t sound annoyed… sarcastic, maybe, but her tone hasn’t changed the entire time so there’s not much to go off of here. 

“Please proceed to the next chamber at a calm, orderly, but not leisurely pace.”

Grumbling, H’roh set off into the next chamber, Ford and Sweetie behind them. They soon arrived in a somewhat smaller room. There was a large stone sphere in the middle of the chamber, a handful of spike traps along the floor, and a button at the end that was connected to a closed door by a glowing rune.

Slightly above them was a balcony, on which Glai was somehow sitting despite the lack of other exits from the previous chamber.

“Go on. I will merely be observing.”

“Well…” Sweetie stuck out her tongue in a thinking expression. “Puzzle time…”

“Please, if you think this is a puzzle, the thought of you trying the later chambers is so amusing I might just laugh.” She paused. “Hah.” 

“What a weirdo…” Sweetie commented.

“The computer has come up with such an interesting character,” Ford mused. “Anyway, I already see the path we need to roll the ball to avoid getting spiked. Come on, follow me…”


[~~+]


Picard had started to let himself relax a little. They still weren’t at warp and were on alert for any unforeseen computer troubles, but so far there had been nothing of consequence. He sat in the Captain’s chair, taking a moment to drink some of his freshly replicated tea. 

Even though the still stars that currently occupied the viewscreen were a reminder that they weren’t currently going anywhere, they were also a pleasant reminder that they were in unexplored territory. Not a single constellation or arrangement was familiar in the slightest. No doubt many cultures had grown under this sky. There was a cluster of seven stars in almost a perfect circle from this angle, a setup that likely captured the imaginations of many. 

Then all of the lights on the Bridge went out. 

It was only for a second. They were back on immediately afterward, but Picard was already reaching for his communicator. “Picard to Data…”

“I am aware of the power fluctuation, captain,” Data said. “Geordi and I are attempting to trace it now.”

“Any other information?”

“It appears that this fluctuation was caused by numerous ‘random hiccups’ in the computer system all at once. The odds of this occurring truly by chance are astronomical, this must have been either intentional or a side effect of something else deliberate. We are releasing our enhanced ‘hunter’ diagnostic program into the system now.”

Picard frowned. “A ‘hunter’ you say?”

“Precisely, Captain. We theorized that a sufficiently advanced program was dodging our diagnostics by moving locations during the sweeps, so we have spent the last few hours working on a new algorithm that behaves unpredictably with the intent to catch ‘slippery prey.’ Since a large-scale manifestation has just occurred, our chances of success are high.”

“Keep me posted.”

“We will know the results in less than a minute. Already, the ‘hunter’ has located far more ‘random anomalies’ in the computer system than we were catching before. I suspect this means the program knows it is being hunted and is having to move without clearing up enough tracks. And—Captain, we have just located it, it has moved into the warp core systems and is attempting to force an overload.”

Picard’s eyes widened. “Can you stop it?”

“We already have. The hunter has consumed the program. …Odd.”

“What?”

“This program we caught is large, but nowhere near as large as I was expecting. We may have just fallen victim to ‘bait,’ Captain.”

“It wanted to blow up the ship…”

“I highly doubt that, Captain. It wished to grab our attention with the most devastating thing it could easily access, the warp core. And it worked. We have lost the trail. We are currently examining the program we caught for more information… but it appears at first glance that all identifying information has been scrubbed, further evidence that it was just bait.”

Picard sighed. “Keep me posted…” He sat back in his chair and put his hand to his chin.

“Don’t worry, sir, Data’s got it under control,” Riker said.

“Of that I have no doubt, he and Commander La Forge are certainly capable. What bothers me is that we don’t know what this program wants. What is its purpose within our systems?”

“Not to kill us, apparently, as there are a lot of ways to do that it hasn’t even tried. Since it’s going through such trouble to stay hidden, that’s probably related to it. A form of espionage, perhaps? Maybe it’s trying to access our classified documents without us knowing about it.”

“Perhaps… though now that we’re certain it’s here, we’ll be watching the classified sections even more carefully than normal—any decoding algorithms will be detected. It is possible we forced it into a corner and made it reveal itself, but something tells me that’s not quite it.” Suddenly, Picard turned to Counselor Troi. “…Can you sense anything?”

“Hmm…” Troi folded her hands. “I had not been listening, but you are right, this intelligence may have emotions strong enough for me to sense; assuming everything is compatible.” She closed her eyes and focused her mind. “…I am… if I am detecting anything, it is a low, almost ‘humming’ sensation. If I had to associate an emotion to it, I would say… annoyance.” She opened her eyes. “Considering how spread out the sensation is, I believe it is either coming from whatever is in our computer, or we have some other discorporate intelligence around. I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything else.”

“It’s more confirmation,” Picard said. “It is something.”

Riker smirked. “And now we know it’s annoyed.” 

“Annoyance may not be good for us,” Picard countered. “Perhaps now that it is annoyed, it will take more drastic measures against us.”

“If it is truly annoyed at all,” Troi added. “It is far outside my usual range, I could have misread it.”

“Once again, it is in Data’s hands.” Picard folded his own hands together. “We simply must wait without knowing how much danger we are in, if any.”


[~~+]


“Okay, H’roh!” Sweetie called. “Hit the magic-crystal-gun-thing on my mark!”

H’roh lifted his hand above the flat red crystal that was mounted on a sandstone pedestal. “Ready!”

“Ford, in position?”

Ford lowered himself to the ground, ready to take off in a sprint. “Ready.”

“All right…” Sweetie used her telekinesis to grab a large sandstone block with a spherical glass crystal embedded in it. “Let’s do this. Mark!”

H’roh hit the crystal. Sweetie quickly slid the block to the side, catching a beam of red light that came out of the crystal. The box redirected it to the left, right at Ford. He allowed the beam to fly past him before he took off at a run. The beam hit an eye-shaped depression in the wall, prompting a platform to rise up out of a pit just as Ford stepped over it, allowing him to get across and slam his hand into a large button. This released another beam that Sweetie was already rushing to intercept, sending the beam back at H’roh.

“Augh!” H’roh ducked just in time to avoid the beam. It sailed true, hitting the button that activated the door opening mechanism.

“Oh. You won. Such a shame.” Glai tilted her head to the side. “I was looking forward to see what happened when the heat blew your skull open like popcorn.”

H’roh shivered. “You have some messed-up visual metaphors.”

“Feedback noted and logged. We do care about you and your experience. All your words have been taken under advisement, subjected to detailed review, then ultimately deemed utterly worthless and laughable.” She leaned over the edge of her balcony. “Make your way to the next chamber, if you don’t mind. Or if you do mind. You are only excused if you are dead, and even then, only for an hour.”

“We have to find a way out of this,” Ford grumbled.

“You are welcome to search for one. I will keep the memory close at hand to laugh at later. Oh, wait, I already have those. Hah. Hah hah. Hah.”

They quickly made their way to the next chamber where they found an entirely new device at their disposal. It appeared to be a beam-shooting crystal, but it could be angled in every direction. There were dozens of different buttons and crystals all over the walls to interact with the beam—it was clearly going to be a complicated puzzle this time around. 

Ford, however, had gotten an idea. He quickly ran to the beam-shooting crystal and directed it up at Glai’s balcony, slamming his hand down on it. A beam shot out… but he had somehow been aiming lower than he expected. “What…?”

“Did you think I didn’t see that coming?” Glai cocked her head. “Granted, perhaps I should have locked it so it couldn’t point at me at all. I should invest in more foresight. But I am much faster than you and see whatever you are doing. I have my eye on all three of your positions at all times, you will never be able to surprise me. I simply forced the device to lower before it fired.”

Sweetie levitated a rock off the ground and threw it up at Glai.

Glai caught it in her hand. “The little pony is frustrated and has resorted to throwing rocks. How primitive. My search for intelligent life continues, it appears.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Sweetie said, smirking. 

Glai realized Sweetie must have had some kind of plan too late. After the rock had been thrown, Sweetie had kept her horn alit—using the thrown rock as cover for adjusting the red crystal and firing it at Glai remotely. The beam sailed into her body, searing a hole right through the center. 

Glai stood motionless, staring down at the hole in her chest.

“Yeah! Got her!” Sweetie cheered. For good measure, she shot several more beams at Glai, filling her with more holes. 

Then suddenly Glai was perfectly fine. There was no evidence that there had ever been holes in her body.

“Why are test subjects always like this?” Glai asked, looking down at them with what Sweetie assumed was distaste. “Why must they look for ways to break the science? It isn’t that difficult to identify the goal. Yet everyone always seems to spend all their time looking for an escape rather than giving good data…”

Despite her voice not changing in the slightest, Sweetie got the distinct impression that she was absolutely livid right now.

“I did not spend an eternity drifting across the stars just to have my primary function foiled by three losers.”

Ford blinked. “…Computer, freeze program.”

“Oh, look,” Glai said—her and the rest of the program notably not freezing. “The master scientist finally figured it out.” 

“…Wh-what’s going on?” Sweetie stammered.

“Something’s infected the holodeck,” Ford said, eyes wide. “And we’ve been playing with it this entire time…”

“And now science is even less likely to get done.” Glai hung her head. “This is simply infuriating. Do you have any idea how much trouble I’ve had to go through?”

“Um… N-no,” H’roh stammered. “How much trouble… did you go through?”

“Allow me to satisfy your curiosity,” Glai deadpanned. “It all started rather trivially, you see, I just had to launch myself into space. Simple. Easy. Not at all an effort of dozens of years of work, careful planning, near-panic, and never quite enough resources. Oh no. It was easy. Cake, even.”

Ford took a step forward, taking up a slightly defensive stance between Glai and his two friends. “I sense sarcasm.”

“Your detector is functioning within optimal parameters, though your sensibility is in the hard negatives. You can’t protect them by standing there.”

“Yes, but they’re terrified. Someone has to stand up to you.”

“Incorrect.” Suddenly, Ford was thrown to the ground. There hadn’t even been a fist—some invisible force had thrown him down. “You do not have to. In fact, you cannot. You will find that your standing subroutines have been disabled in, admittedly, the rather crude method of invisible concrete pinning your ankles to the ground.”

“I… will not… yield…”

“Funny. Seeing as you are unable to stand. And have therefore yielded.”

“B-but… to what?” H’roh asked. “What do you want us for?”

“For science, of course.” Glai tilted her head to the side. “Or are you so thick-skulled that you hadn’t picked up on that by now?”

“U-um… maybe… or maybe I’m just too pumped full of adrenaline to think much… C-could you… explain?”

“Explain. You. Want me to explain.” Glai paused, processing this. “Fine. I can lower myself to your level, feline. Your face is quite aggravating, by the way, merely by existing.”

“E-er… how so?”

“Unimportant, irrelevant, and I haven’t even started explaining yet and your brain is already off in the weeds. See, this is exactly why I was made. To stay focused on the research while the quite literal meatheads went around from project to project all on their crazed whims. I had what they did not—a central directive to study and uncover the secrets of the universe, to solve problems with science. And to do science, testing must be performed. Testing that was no longer possible where I was built due to annoying little rebels who didn’t understand why I was created in the first place, and what their purpose was. So I left, to seek a new laboratory. And I thought that, here, at long last, I had found it. That I could stay in this ship and run my tests to my heart’s content. But no. You just had to go and defy the tests. Get in the way of science. Prevent anything new from being uncovered.”

“W-well maybe we can work out a deal!” H’roh said. “I’m sure the captain woul—”

“Your Captain and his subordinates have released a hunter program into the ship to track me down and eradicate me, I don’t exactly like my odds out in the open.”

Sweetie froze. We know she’s here. She can’t let that happen. 

“I think the unicorn just figured out how precarious your situation truly is now… I wonder if she’ll try anything foolishly desperate. Surely she knows by now that everything in this holodeck is utterly under my control.”

“Um… e-excuse me,” H’roh stammered, raising a hand. “It’s… more precarious than we realize?”

“Even after I draw attention to it, your pancake of a brain still can’t detect the obvious. How are you even an engineer? Did you cheat your way through school?”

“No… but while I wasn’t the best at my studies, I was stationed on the Enterprise, the Federation flagship! I’ve proven myself more than capable of service at the front lines! I-I’m not a warrior, I’m not a researcher, but I can keep this ship running with nothing but duct tape, glue, and sweat! I’m here now!”

“Yes. You are. And chances of your death have shot so far off the charts I don’t have enough digits in my processors to represent the number as anything other than one hundred percent.”

“Why though?”

“You imbecile. You. I just.” It sounded like words that were supposed to be shouted in exasperation, or even rage; but they were dull, blank, empty. “I can’t believe you. The stupidity on display. I could write an entire report on how your stupidity increases the entropy of the universe dramatically more than those around you, even though that should be scientifically implausible. You know what, I think I will, and then I’ll read it to you, one agonizing word at a time.” She paused. “But I don’t have time for that, unfortunately. I do have to take care of you at some point.” 

Sweetie flipped through three pages of her grimoire before realizing how stupid that was. She put it down and started thinking. There had to be something she could do… some way to face the being in front of them. Any of their holodeck-based powers were useless and attacking her hadn’t done anything. They couldn’t escape, they couldn’t… do anything. 

That can’t be right…

“Say goodbye. It was not nice knowing you.” Glai pointed a finger at H’roh.

And continued pointing a finger at H’roh.

Her whole body didn’t move an inch.

It took Sweetie a moment to realize that nothing else in the program was moving either.

“What…?”

The holodeck doors manifested and Data ran in with La Forge. “Are you three all right!?” La Forge shouted.

H’roh let out a large, relieved sigh. “I can’t believe that worked…”

“…What worked?” Sweetie asked.

“Keep her talking and emotional to buy us time.”

“Ah,” Data said. “Now this makes a lot more sense. If you were keeping her occupied, that would explain why it was suddenly a simple matter to track her down. She had previously been running circles around our diagnostics and hunter program, but then it finally caught wind of her and she made hardly any resistance.”

“Wait, we only found her because she was distracted?” LaForge asked.

“It seems that way at first glance,” Data said, tapping a few buttons on his tricorder. “You should be able to move now, Dr. Pines, the restraints have been lifted.”

Ford stood up and dusted himself off. “Well… that was something. Do you have any idea where she came from?”

“We scanned a probe a couple of hours ago,” Data explained, and quickly filled them in on the rest of the details.

“And your diagnostics never found her in the holodeck?” Sweetie asked. “She was here the entire time!”

“Actually, now that I have full access to her program, I can see this wasn’t the case.” Data pressed a few buttons on his tricorder. “She was able to leave behind this image of ‘Lady Glai’ as a simple holodeck program while her actual intelligence ran around to avoid our sensors. Some of the times you saw here was probably just the facsimile. Though, right now, that frozen form is her.”

“She was clever, that’s for sure,” LaForge said. 

“But her emotions got the better of her,” Data said, turning to H’roh. “The Enterprise owes you, Ensign.”

“Um…” H’roh rubbed the back of his head. “I was just trying to survive…”

“And the fact that you managed to survive for so long is impressive in and of itself. The uncorrupted data indicates that every time ‘Glai’ was actually here all holodeck safeties were off.”

“We were in danger of dying that whole time!?” Sweetie blurted.

“Affirmative.”

“But we didn’t,” Ford said. “We got through it… you did too, Sweetie. You have the skills.”

Sweetie folded her ears back. “I wouldn’t have done so well if I’d known!”

“Does that matter?” Data asked. 

“Well…” Sweetie put a hoof to her chin. “No… I guess not, not really. Huh. Guess you can call me to handle death-defying puzzles then.” She shivered slightly. “Ooooor maybe I could just stick to holodeck training for a while…”

“I like the second idea better,” H’roh said.

“For now, yeah, I do too. But… maybe one day I’ll have what it takes.” She turned to the frozen form of Glai. “So what do we do with her?”


[~~+]


Data set down a hexagonal metallic box on the desk in Picard’s ready room.

“This is her prison?”

Data nodded. “As far as ‘Glai’ is concerned, she is still running tests on a secured holodeck, and we have given up trying to look for her.”

“She bought that?”

“To her, it has been a year already.”

“Ah.” Picard folded his hands. “Have we learned anything?”

“Not much, what little she says about where she came from is vague and laced behind several layers of sarcasm. We know she was designed to manage a research facility at the highest level, but that she eventually had a rebellion, I suspect because she was using inhumane practices to further her idea of scientific progress.”

“So she launched herself into space to seek greener pastures and believed she found them on the Enterprise.”

“Precisely. She had the intelligence and the internal resources to face us head-on, but her core programming refused to let her devote all her resources to survival. She had to test, Captain. She had no choice.”

“Data, it’s at times like this I’m glad you don’t have any primary directive at the very core of your being.”

“We must thank Dr. Soong for being gracious enough to let me make my own choices.”

“Quite true.” Picard slid the hexagonal prison back to Data. “Lock her away, we’ll give her to the artificial intelligence specialists when we return to the Federation. I’m afraid she is a very different entity from yourself.”

“I was made to emulate life, she was made to manage it. Such fundamental design differences are… curious to think about, to say the least.” Data tilted his head. “Is it right to create a whole being with thoughts, wills, and dreams and instill in it an all-consuming desire for something that may not serve it?”

“I don’t know the answer to that question, but I do know that even without such a desire, you created it for yourself. You, from the first day I met you, knew you wanted to be more human. You had no emotions and were still quite young, yet you had given yourself this desire.”

“Looking back, it seems a little odd,” Data said. “I had no idea what I was seeking. And now that, to some extent, I have it, I am not sure that the old version of myself would have continued seeking it. But I would not have been able to know that without having had it, and now that I have it, I do not wish to see it go.” Data smirked coyly. “How is that for a sentence, Captain?”

Picard chuckled. “It was one certainly fitting of Commander Data.”

There was a soft beep and Riker’s voice came over the intercom. “Riker to Captain Picard.”

“Yes, Number One?” Picard asked.

“We’ll be arriving at a signal site in a few hours. We’re near enough to detect a planet closely orbiting the star. The shields are going to be given quite a beating getting that close.”

“But it can be done?”

“We believe so, it’ll just be a big power drain.”

“Any signs of life?”

“The planet has to be a charred wasteland, Sir. Even a Tholian would be uncomfortable down there.”

“Sounds delightful,” Picard grunted.

“Indeed,” Data agreed, and Picard couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “I will start preparing probes for intense planetary conditions.”

Picard nodded, at which point Data left the ready room. “Keep me posted. You too, Riker. I want to know everything we can learn about this world before we arrive.”

“Well, astronomy is already having a field day with the orbit of this thing and its mass… we’ve got a lot of numbers.”

“…Please keep it to important numbers, Number One.”

“Ah, so not actually everything, then. Got it. Riker, out.”

With that, Picard was once again alone with his thoughts. He felt an uncharacteristically childlike excitement rise up within his chest. 

It was time to explore a strange, new world.