And they speak English?by ImperaxumChaptersSpace exploration ain't all it's cracked up to be.Nobody said this would be easy . . . but we hoped.I would say it looks annoyed, sir.English.Encounters of a mythical kind... and manticores.NightmareWelcome to Ponyville, Kapitan.Space exploration ain't all it's cracked up to be.Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the SMS Vorreiter IV, and Star Trek made it look easy. -Kapitan Arnhem Zorner's captain's log Nobody said this assignment would be easy. That's basically inviting an asteroid to come hurtling out of nowhere to ruin your day. Then again, he had thought it would be. In hindsight, it wasn't that he had particularly minded the last combat tour he had served in. The ship had been older, yes, and the Americans just as competent at trying to kill him, but that hell was nothing compared to this hell. Nothing to fight. Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to survive. That is, except his own ship. Kapitan Arnhem Zorner wasn't having a great year. "The Americans should stop trying kill us with missiles and railguns, Dewitz." he observed to the man casually seated next to him. "Oh? And what should they use, pray tell?" Oberst Josef Dewitz replied in a disinterested manner that spoke volumes of what he thought of that idea. "They should steal the specs to this ship, build hundreds of them, give them all to us in perfect working order, then have a field day in five years." Zorner observed. Dewitz sat up to that, and smiled wryly at his superior. "Pfft. They'd win the war in days, wouldn't they?" "Yup. Who woulda thought this thing practically came with an expiration date?" the captain groaned, looking out the cracked viewport in the ship's lounge. That there were 45 more micro-panes in addition to the cracked one was irrelevant, the mere existence of the cracks were disturbing. “Ranting about my ship again, eh?” a new voice chastised. Zorner turned to the speaker, Technischer Offizier Carl Strasser, who stood at the doorway of the lounge with his arms folded. “My ship, Strasser. Not yours.” Strasser waved his hand dismissively at him. “Herr Kapitan, I mean no disrespect, but this ship would not function adequately without my presence. Therefore, in a sense . . . it is my ship. “Ah, but I command my crew and make all the important decisions of this ship.” Zorner shot back. It occurred to him he really must be bored to allow himself to argue with his egocentric Technischer Offizier, instead of just pulling rank. Strasser seemed surprised as well, but quickly gave the Kapitan a cocky smile, one that promised a good argument. “I can run farther than both of you.” Dewitz cut in. Zorner and Strasser turned to face the Marinesoldaten Oberst as one. “What?” Zorner asked. “And how does that effect the proceedings, Herr Oberst?” Strasser added. Dewitz raised his eyebrows at Strasser, and held his arms out in front of him. “Just thought I’d put things in perspective.” The slightly overweight 26 year-old glowered at the soldier. The two never really got along all that well anyways. Strasser was short and whose long auburn hair fell over the rim of his glasses and obscured whatever his hands where gripping at the moment, whether it was a wrench in the engine room or a comic book in his bunk. Dewitz, on the other hand, was the most stereotypical soldier Zorner had ever seen . Tall, muscular, and powerful, he cut an imposing figure even without his combat armor to enhance his bulk. He kept his blond hair combed straight back at all times. Crew members joked behind his back he would have made a great model for an SS poster 180 years ago. Of course, thinly-veiled references to Nazi Germany were highly frowned upon, but the comparison just was too good. One of the crew had even found an SS recruitment poster on the Internet with a ramrod-straight, iron jawed Stahlhelm-wearing Death Head badge toting SS Panzergrenadier that looked exactly like Dewitz. Of course, that was before they set out on the exploration mission. The Internet was just a distant memory two months in, and the ship-wide "Internet" was falling pathetically short. When only ten people were off-duty at any one time on average, it wasn't very engaging. "Seriously though, Strasser, why are you here?" Zorner hurriedly asked to break the tension. "Guess." was his only response. Zorner rolled his eyes. "What broke this time?" "Overspace Transmitter. IFF shaft split completely in two this morning." "Ouch." Dewitz winced. "It'll take at least three month to rig a new one up, Herr Kapitan." Strasser concluded. "Three months? Seriously?" Zorner queried. He was no engineer, but he knew something about his transmitter, and the IFF transmitter did not take that long to replace. The Technischer Offizier gave him a wry smile. "Two months doing fixing more important things, then one week scrounging up replacements, and two weeks of installation, sir.” “That estimation seemed remarkably rushed, Strasser,” Dewitz commented, “especially for you.” “Indeed it was, Herr Oberst. The transimitter is not of special importance.” Strasser responded. Seeing the soldier’s confused expression, Zorner decided to clarify. “Yes, Dewitz. In any other case the loss of the transmitter would command the utmost attention and devotion of resources.” “And a mission in the depths of uncharted space doesn’t qualify?” “There are two unique reasons. One, our ship has so many things breaking that if we devoted concentrated effort to fixing it without considering other jobs, well . . .” Strasser paused with a sigh. Zorner cut in. “Let me phrase this delicately, Dewitz. Would you rather the bulkhead separating the storage bay from space split open, or be unable to talk to Imperial Space Command (ISC)? Dewitz rolled his eyes at that. “No, talking to ISC doesn’t rate over death.” “Good. Two, the special nature of our mission actually dictates that we only contact ISC in the case of abandoning ship, or discovery of intelligent life.” Zorner finished. “And since even the Overspace Transmitter is only capable of delivering a message to ISC command’s Transmit Hub in Berlin with a minimum delay of a week,” added Strasser, “we’re either probably dead or discovered something that has the – Heinrich!” he called to the only other person seated in the lounge. “Jawohl, Herr Technischer Offizier!” the youth replied, his chair scraping on the floor as he snapped to his feet, saluting. “Calm yourself. This isn’t Konigsberg Space Academy, ensign.” Zorner said to one of the ten fresh crewmembers that had joined the Vorreiter IV for the voyage. “Ja, Herr Kapitan.” he said, nodding. To Strasser: “What do you require Offizier?” “What’s the ship-wide odds that we find intelligent life again?” Strasser asked, winking to Zorner. “Uh, 1 to 20, Herr Offizier.” Heinrich said. “Danke, Heinrich. Continue . . . whatever you’re doing.” Strasser strained over Zorner’s shoulder at the object in his hand. “Playing a chess match against Helen in Engineering, sir.” he replied sheepishly, holding up his tablet. “What!?!” Strasser snapped. “She’s off duty, sir. Still in the Engine room though, watching the recently fixed FTL drive in case of an overheat. You ordered that, sir.” Heinrich said with a raised eyebrow. “When did I order one of my people to watch an engine?” Strasser wondered out loud. “This morning?” Dewitz inquired. “It was in the mess hall at breakfast, if I recall. There was a lot of groaning.” “Oh.” was all that Strasser said. “Ja, I remember know.” “You’re growing old Strasser.” Dewitz declared. “I’m twenty-six years old.” he replied flatly. “I couldn’t tell.” Zorner interjected. Without visible reaction, Strasser promptly sat up and exited the room, bumping into Dewitz still in the doorway, before turning left in the hallway presumably bound for Engineering. Zorner and Dewitz laughed, and Heinrich just shrugged and went back to his chess match. “You’re the worst example in the Kaiserleich Marine, Zorner.” Dewitz stated, then turned serious. “Anyways, what’s with this betting business?” “There are 60 people aboard this ship. 3 of them believe the possibility exists that we’ll locate intelligent life on this voyage. Thus, 1 to 20 odds.” Zorner said. “Explain more.” Dewitz commanded. Zorner opened his mouth to do so, but a light in the Bluetooth on his ear blinked. Raising his hand to his ear, he clicked the device on. “Ja?” he spoke tersely. The voice of his Executive Offizier, Eccard Stricker, crackled through . “We’re coming out of FTL and are arriving at Adequate-928 at this time, Herr Kapitan.” “I will be present in two minutes,” Zorner promised, then stood up and turned to Dewitz. “Follow.” Both men started walking briskly through the environs of the ship towards the Bridge. As they were walking, Zorner continued. “As you can see, my crew isn’t convinced that this mission will be worthwile” “I don’t.” Dewitz admitted. “I’m assuming the two scientists think it might? “Yup.” “Who was the third, then?” “Me, of course! How can the captain of a ship admit to his crew their on pointless mission?” “Lovely. Do you actually believe, sir?” “He ought to.” a new voice interjected from behind, causing both men to jump. “The infamous Kurtt Beigel.” Zorner stated. “Ja, Chief Science Offizier himself. You know, we are travelling much farther into Uncharted Space than any other expedition before. The possibility of life always exists.” Beigel said. “You’re why we’re here.” Dewitz nodded. The trio reached the Bridge at this moment, the door sliding open to receive them. All six men seated at their consoles swiveled to face the incoming Kapitan, and they saluted as one. Meanwhile, the Marinesoldaten guard stationed at the door yelled out, “Herr Kapitan on deck!” and all present saluted. “Thank you, thank you.” Zorner gushed, bowing dramatically. “That never gets old.” he admitted to Dewitz beside him a moment later. One of the men at the consoles stood up to deliver his report. “Herr Kapitan, we shall be viewing Adequate-928 any second now.” “Is it vain?” one of the crew asked aloud, as per recently-formed tradition. “Is the planet green?” another said. “Does it contain oxygen in its air?” still another cried out. “Will life be present!?” Zorner whispered, completing the New-Planet ritual of the Vorreiter IV. Said planet appeared in the viewport. The Bridge was suddenly very quiet. They watched the planet below intently without a word spoken. A minute passed. Then another. Finally, Dewitz voiced what everyone else was thinking. “Yes on first?” "It's green." Beigel breathed, eyes wide. "Green . . ." Zorner repeated. "That thing looks terraformed!" a crew member exclaimed. "Holy shi-" Dewitz began, only to be cut off by: "Herr Kapitan! Evasive maneuvers suggested!" the helmsman yelled. "What is it?" Zorner instantly replied, turning away from the beckoning sphere in the viewport. "The system's star sir! It's speed has increased drastically, and collision is imminent!" The ship's sensors confirmed the same thing a seconds later, and the engines kicked into full ahead as the computer automatically boosted the vessel out of harm's way. "What the hell is going on!?" Zorner asked as calmly as he could. "Sir, the planet's moon has also increased speed." "What's happening?" "It's almost as if the star and moon here are controlled by another . . ." Beigel wondered out loud. "Explain." Zorner commanded tersely. Before he could, a crewman interrupted him. "Sir . . . sensor reports of the planet coming in now." The computer's calm voice broke over the occupants of the Bridge. "Air Composition: Mainly Oxygen/Nitrogen. Adequate," "Gravity: 0.05 less than normal. Optimal". "Organic Matter: Present." Another crewman had information. "Long-Distance cameras operational. Live feed coming in now, sir." she reported. An image flickered on the main screen, above the primary viewport. "Trees, sir?" Dewitz said out loud. "Trees?" Beigel exclaimed. "This is incredible!" "Wait, what's that?" the camera operator wondered out loud, panning the view to the left as she did so. A building hove into view. On the surface of the planet, a strikingly tall, glisteningly white quadruped grunted in what could pass as annoyance. "What is it?" she called. Another similar but smaller, armored creature spoke. "Luna reports a disturbance in the sky." She sat up. Author's Note First MLP fanfiction is a go! Not much to say so far, except that in this fic I'm going to try and put a different light on the military in general, unlike many other fimfictions I've read (hint: they aren't very tolerant/smart/realistic). Have a nice day! Nobody said this would be easy . . . but we hoped.Did that gottverdammte Overspace Transmitter REALLY need 198 separate parts to it? No. Of course it did not. - Kapitan Arnhem Zorner's captain log The Bridge crew gaped at the picture, now projected on to the main screen. A couple of neat, brown-roofed structures that appeared to resemble normal, almost idealistic village houses. Vegetation was present, but what struck the crew most was the presence of several bright shapes moving about. The video quality was rather poor for a German vessel, however, and the shapes remained just that, not getting any clearer. "This is . . . " Beigel trailed off, "Mien Gott in Himmel, gentlemen." Zorner said in awe. A smile broke out into his face. "Hold on." Biegel commanded to the camera operator. "Can you zoom in?" She frowned. "Nien, Herr Offizier. It's . . . kind of stuck on this zoom setting." "Can you pan further? All we see are a couple structures." "Uh . . . nope. This camera was designed for lower closer views than this." "Verdammt noch mal!" Beigel hissed, his mood abruptly shifting from elated to anger. Zorner held up a cautionary hand. "Whoa, you're actually lucky, man." "So close!" "Our camera was stuck on the highest zoom setting! Do you know how useless it was before this situation occurred, Beigel?" "Oh. My apologies, Herr Kapitan." Beigel perked up. "But still . . . trees! Do you understand the significance of this?" Dewitz gave him a dubious look. "They're just trees. What about the buildings?" "Those I accept more readily. I can only assume the act of shielding oneself from the outside world could be easily replicated. Of course, to have them look so similar to human structures is stupendous in itself, but the trees!" An silence fell over the Bridge as Beigel stopped speaking for a minute and stood rooted in place, a dreamy smile on his face. Before anyone asked the obvious question, he started talking again, so rapidly he almost couldn't be understood. "As I see by your underwhelming reactions, the presence of trees is taken for granted on life-filled worlds. However, stop and think. Trunk, bark, leaves - the evolutionary process that created all the individual parts of a tree is so complex, so completely unique . . . the odds of this exact same species of vegetation being the dominant type like on normal terraformed planets are virtually nil! To find such a familiar sight here, a forest!" "Enthusiasm noted." Dewitz said, smiling as well, an action taken by the entire crew present. "Does that thing have a screen capture feature?" Beigel practically yelled at the applicable crew woman. "We're on the SMS Verreiter IV, Beigel." she laughed. "Hm?" "In other words, no, Herr Offizier." she clarified, rolling her eyes. Beigel responded by pulling his smartphone out and snapping a picture of the screen. Dewitz laughed at that. "You're taking a picture of another terrible-quality picture?" he pointed out. "Screw it, what else can I do?" Beigel replied testily. Zorner cut in at what he felt was an appropriate time. "Dewitz, our friend here will get much more than a better view." he said with a discernible sparkle in his eye. "What?" Zorner turned to another crewmember. "So the air is breathable, eh?" "Uh, yeah." His hand flew up to his earset, and he fiddled with the device briefly before Strasser's voice came streaming in. "Ja, Herr Kapitan? Good thing you called, our FTL drive did overheat a few minutes ago, and repairs will take a couple of-" "Do our landing thrusters work properly?" Zorner asked abruptly, drawing a couple of stares. "Er . . . actually, yeah, they do. If you don't mind me asking, why are you asking?" Strasser replied, confusion evident in his speech. Zorner turned to Dewitz. "Head down the stern and fill in Strasser, and get your marines together." he ordered. To Stricker: "Notify ISC we're about to attempt a landing." The Bridge crew broke out into grins. "Sir?" his Executive Offizier asked. "What?" "The Overspace Transmitter . . . it's, you know . . ." "Scheiße!" "And you're sure that the thrusters won't fail?" Zorner asked to Strasser. "Ja, Kapitan. If it'll make you stop asking, shoot me if it does." an exasperated man replied. "If it does, we'll be dead anyways." "Then shoot me on the way down, just take my word that it'll work, alright?" "Fine." Zorner conceded, only to spin to face his Scanner Offizier. "And you're sure the air is breathable, Hopf?" "Jawohl, Herr Kapitan. Why would I lie - you know what, if you think that all five of our atmospheric scanners are saying the exact same faulty reading, go ahead." "What if there's a vent that's throwing oxygen at them, or . . . or." Dewitz came to the rescue of the man. "Zorner, five scanners with the same reading, down to the hundredths, all false? That's pretty low, even for the Verreiter, man." "Fine." he conceded. "Proceed with the landing." Half the Verreiter's crew, and all eight of Dewitz's marines, Beigel and the other scientist Teske, and Zorner stood in front of the main airlock of the ship, watching the altimeter impatiently. The room was cramp, and dimly lit by a single bulb in the ceiling, but it was growing noticeably brighter as they descended gradually into the atmosphere of Adequate-928. The voice of Stricker from the Bridge blared from a wall speaker. "Estimated time of landing, two minutes. Good luck." "ETOL two minutes." Zorner repeated to everyone somewhat unnecessarily, trying to maintain the facade of the calm and stoic nature captains were for some reason always supposed to have, regardless of the situation. Especially this one. "Say," Teske spoke up suddenly, "Who's going first?" "Hm?" Dewitz grunted. "Someone has to go first just to make sure our scanners weren't lying. You know, no airborne contagions, unknown deadly chemicals, invisible fatal flying blobs . . . this is an alien planet with alien life gentlemen and ladies. Prepared for anything must be our motto." Dewitz looked over his marines. "It has to be one of the soldiers. They're armed and know how to handle themselves in stressful situations." Zorner looked peeved at that. "So does my crew." he argued back. "On the ground Herr Kapitan." "Aha." Dewitz turned and his gaze singled out the nearest marine. "Hauptgefreiter Margarete Jais!" he called out to the redhead. "Jawohl?" "You go first." "What? How is that fair?" "The rest of us," Dewitz gestured to himself and the seven other soldiers, "are too experienced to risk." Jais's eyes narrowed at her commander. "I have been on two combat tours on Kulmar as a Panzergrenadier in the 12th Panzer for a total of two years, received the Iron Cross First Class among other awards, and am a Lance Corporal and I'm expendable?" "So?" Dewitz scoffed. "We all served three combat tours for three years and got the Knight's Cross." "I call bull on that one, Sir. "If this was Kulmar, I'd court-marshal your arsch back to Berlin!" Dewitz growled. "But this is the Verreiter and we're having this argument to entertain ourselves, so there." Dewitz and Jais smiled and shook hands, and Jais stepped back and saluted. "I'll go, Herr Oberst. No need to argue." The ship shook, then came to a complete stop. Unnaturally still, for a space ship. "We're here." Zorner announced. "For the Fatherland and Kaiser." Jais murmured under her breath, and stepped into the open airlock. "When is it gonna do its thing?" she asked through the digital speaker. Those present broke into grins, staring at the monitor she couldn't see that said Airlock Open. Jais caught on quickly, and returned the grin. The outside door opened, and a ramp extended from the side of the ship to the grass below. Jais stepped out on to the ramp, holding up her arm to shield her eyes from the star's light. When she adjusted at the bottom of the short ramp, she looked around. The Verreiter had touched down in a peaceful, quaint little field with a thick forest about a hundred feet off. The rest of the men and women in the airlock room ran out to join her, eagerly sucking in the alien air. Laughter filled the air. Even Dewitz was grinning ear to ear as the realization he was standing on an alien planet, alive and bathed comfortably in its starlight, and he chatted with Jais amiably. Zorner, while smiling, was more immediately practical. "Strasser, get the helos out of the storage hangar. In fact, get the Dingos out too while you're at it. Beigel-" But alas, the scientist wasn't listening. "Flowers!? Butterflies!?! he practically screamed. Zorner laughed. Author's Note And there ya have it. I would say it looks annoyed, sir.You know, a thermal scan would've helped. - Kapitan Arnhem Zorner's captain log "Clear the loading deck!" Zorner glanced up sharply at the pronouncement from the wall speaker, as did every other man and woman around him. Loading decks were no joke, especially on the Vorreiter. He'd seen once what the deck could do to a man if they weren't paying attention . . . He shook his head. Oddly enough, his thoughts were wandering when he thought they would be sharply focused, being on an alien planet and all. On with the offloading, then. He tapped his earpiece. "Commence." he ordered. The rear eighth of the ship's bottom promptly gave way and swung down. Quickly. Way too quickly. Zorner winced as the loading ramp smashed into the grass with a thud. Thankfully, there wasn't any visible damage. "Scheiße." Dewitz observed. His earpiece crackled. "Uh, the servos gave out, sir." an unusually sheepish Strasser said from the ramp control console. "We noticed." Zorner dryly observed. "Hey, at least the ramp managed to lower." "That is a valid point, Herr Kapitan. I'll get the first of the helos off now, then." Zorner turned and strode away as a venerable Tiger attack helicopter rolled down the somehow functioning cargo rails. He needed to find Teske and Beigel, who had managed to wander off somewhere, probably with the two marines Dewitz had assigned to protect them. In fact, there came the marine Oberst himself, running up to talk to him. "Herr Kapitan!" he called out. "Ja?" "Sir, instructions for the helo? It's gassed up and'll be ready to go in a couple of minutes." "I'm aware of that." "Well, sir . . . I'm qualified as a gunner for the Tiger." "Oh, really? Is there anyone else?" "Nein. Jais is the pilot." "Excellent. She exhibits common sense, good judgement, and well-placed humor in her daily life aboard the ship." "And I don't?" "Humor perhaps." he shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Let's get this operation looking like it's run by Germans, shall we?" "Of course. I have pre-flight checks to go through, if you'll excuse me Kapitan." "Sure." Zorner stood in the bridge of the Vorreiter, gazing over a scattering of video screens that had been brought up to coordinate the exploration of Adequate-928. "Ready?" he spoke through a radio. "Ja. This is Tiger-1, over." "Acknowledged. Flight status?" "All pre-flight checks performed flawlessly, sir. Ten foot test hop achieved as well." "Excellent. Proceed with lift-off. You will be monitored closely. Operations out." "In case we crash." Jais observed over the intercom. Dewitz had to stifle a chuckle at that. "At least you didn't say that to Zorner. He'd throw a fit. He's in that serious mood of his, eh?" "And you aren't?" she asked, flipping the switch to the ignition. "Not one smoke cloud on the horizon to be seen. I can't take this seriously. None of us can." "Except for the scientists." "Got that right!" Dewitz laughed. "The rest of us see butterflies ignore them. They ask 'how the hölle did they evolve here?'" "Alright, bringing her up." Jais said, easing up on the throttle. The attack helicopter slowly lifted off the makeshift landing pad with an unmuffled roar. "All systems functioning properly." Dewitz reported, opening the comms channel back to the Vorreiter. "Excellent! Proceed to waypoint Alpha, in that case." Zorner ordered, relief evident in his voice. Jais grinned to herself as the gunned the engine, sending the Tiger hurtling through the air for a briefest of seconds before it slowly decelerated to a more normal speed. "And that's the power of German engineering!" "Speed test completed. Everything but the verdammten Vorreiter, eh? Everything." Dewitz sighed, pulling out his old but nevertheless deadly Heckler and Koch MP7 out of a slot in the side of the gunners cockpit. "Waypoint Alpha." Jais stated, bringing the conversation back on track. "Ja. Two klicks to the north." Waypoint Alpha was a thick forest near the estimated location of the buildings they had spotted from orbit, from which the ship had tried to land a close to as possible. No machine was perfect though, even a German machine and especially the Vorreiter, and the actual landing site in the little field was some ways south of the area. "Waypoint Alpha half a klick out," Dewitz reported, "Infrared sight on." he noted a moment later, thumbing the switch on the gunner's console for the infrared sight for the 30 mm nose cannon. "What the hölle?" he exclaimed a moment later. A series of bright splotches were clustered around what appeared to be a blanket of some sort on a nearby hill where the forest ended. He rapidly switched infrared off and grabbed a pair of binoculars hung around his neck for the trip, as the second-rate Tiger hadn't come with a working zoom for the 30 mm. "What do you see?" Jais called up from her position. "Horses? Four legged creatures, with a discernible head, it appears." he observed, mouth agape. "Slow down!" he ordered sharply. "Don't let them see us!" The Tiger shuddered as it slammed to a halt in midair, but it was too late. The horse-things looked rather startled to see the attack helicopter hovering over the forest, and started to flee. All except for one. "Heilige scheiße! Bandit inbound!" Jais screamed. A bolt of color, rainbow, accelerated towards them at an impossible rate of speed, and halted right outside the cockpit. The creature gazed in at them, tapping on the glass, mouth moving. "What's happening!?" Zorner called from Operations. "It looks . . . annoyed, sir?" Dewitz said with as much disbelief as the people back at the Vorreiter had. Outside the glass, the blue, winged quadruped tapped impatiently on the hide of the strange beast. "What the hay?" it asked in perfect in English, voice laced indeed with annoyance "Don't you see we're eating here?!" English."What's going on, then, verdammt!" Zorner demanded through the radio. Dewitz averted his gaze from the alien. "Contact with a native lifeform, Herr Kapitan!" "What!?! How? Where?" Dewitz winced at the volume of his Kapitan. "It's tapping on my cockpit window, sir." he informed him, and was greeted by silence. Meanwhile, the blue creature continued to tap on the glass and move its move. "Is it . . . hostile?" "As I said sir, it looks annoyed. It appears to be flying next to our helo, and -" Beigel's voice cut in. "Wait, so it's facial expressions are comparable to ours?" "You could say that!" Dewitz yelled, panicking. "What do we do?" Heedless, Beigel continued. "Remember, Imperial German Extraterrestrial Rules of Engagement command that you cannot harm an intelligent alien unless it physically harms one of us first! "Yes, I understand! I'm useless in the gunner's seat! What do we do!?" "Lead it back to the ship!" Beigel advised. "No!" Zorner countermanded. "We're not ready to establish relations! We don't know anything about these things! Shake it off, then return to base!" "Will do, Herr Kapitan. Out." Jais said, then flicked the intercom on. "That thing clearly doesn't know how close it is to getting sliced up by the blades!" As she made that observation, the Tiger shot up, leaving the startled alien below and out of danger. She grinned under her helmet's mask as she increased speed, sending the attack chopper towards a series of nearby clouds. Dewitz smiled as well and sat back in his seat. There would be a time to meet these creatures, but only after careful preparation, observation, and above all cau- what?! The creature was flying right next to the cockpit as before, and clearly more agitated. Dewitz could swear that it seemed like it was quite casual in its speed of almost 120 miles per hour at this point. "It's still on us!" Jais gritted her teeth and aimed the Tiger straight for the biggest cloud, subtly decelerating in doing so. The second they entered the cloud, the Tiger ground to a halt, spun, waited ten seconds, and exited the cloud from a completely different direction. "Verdammt!" she growled as she noticed the creature still on their tail, apparently not thrown off by the helo's ability to hover in place. "It must have circled when it didn't see us exit in the right place!" "Right." Dewitz agreed, trying not to throw up all of a sudden. "At least it's fallen back some." The Tiger again ground to a halt, then angled tail-down and started flying in reverse straight toward it's pursuer. "Jais? The ROEs!" Dewitz yelled, panicked at the thought of the first meeting with apparently intelligent aliens by chopping one up in an attack chopper's rotors, not to mention destroying said chopper in the process. "It'll have to avoid us!" Jais assured him. Sure enough, the blue alien pulled up to avoid the machine hurtling towards it. Then came the shock. Both German's gazed in wide-eyed awe as the creature, not slowing down at all, looped in front the helicopter and back towards it, head on. "Fu-" Jais grunted as the helo slew to the side, itself avoiding the alien, roles reversed. "Canyon dead ahead!" Dewitz said, rather unnecessarily pointing it it physically. A massive gorge indeed filled the cockpit window, and started growing even closer as Jais angrily slammed down on the throttle. The Tiger barely missed hitting the canyon walls as Jais took it in fast and as low as possible, dodging in amongst the sudden edges and cliffs that seemed to rise up out of nowhere to dash the helo upon. Still, the blue alien followed. "Hündin!" Jais swore under her breath at the alien. "This one's tenacious!" "Er, it doesn't seem all that strained, Jais." Dewitz observed, still watching the alien's seemingly unconcerned chase. "Follow this one, Arschloch!" Jais spoke as she threw the helicopter into a half-roll, ending up flying low over the fields. What just flew by? Dewitz wondered, then it struck him. Trees! "Jais, you're pushing this way too far!" he yelled. "Look, we lost it! Oh, wait, dammit sie alle!" she said as the alien appeared at the side of the window, and waved. Rather mockingly, in fact. The next moment, it stuck its tongue out at the two, seemingly out of spite. Dewitz knew he should be mind blown at the alien utilizing such unique human facial expressions, but he was mostly angry at this point. Jais was far, far more so. "Verdammt that thing!" she cursed, and threw the helo sideways, more in an expression of frustration than an actual attempt to crash into the alien. It had already demonstrated rather convincingly that it was practically unshakable. "Stop!" Dewitz ordered. "We need to return to the Vorreiter. It beat us." "Remember what Zorner said!?" "The fuel, Jais." Jais glanced down, and the fuel was indeed in the red zone. "Verdammt." she finally said, and banked for their home-away-from-home. "Zorner, we're bingo and heading back." Dewitz said into the radio. "You didn't lose it, did you?" "Nein, Herr Kapitan." Zorner nervously adjusted the Glock jammed into his waistband as the Tiger appeared in the distance. Too little time, too little of everything. This first contact was not going to plan. Not that Around him, seven the marines and the scientists stood at attention. Guns were out and triggers fingered, but no one had their safeties off per captain's instructions. Unless the alien actually hurt one of them, they were under strict regulations not to show agressive intent. And even if the alien hurt on of them, they first had to try and stun it before switching There they were! The helo came in for a rough landing on the grass, but no one paid attention to that. No, the alien was far more more interesting. As it alighted down on the grass in front of the crowd of Germans, Zorner knew in the back of his mind that Strasser was sitting in one of the windows snapping photos on a high-quality digital camera. He also knew Strasser had an MG3 placed next to him, fully loaded. It was a quadruped, that much was certain. It was fundamental anatomy was apparently that of horse but . . . different. More rounded, shorter, barely coming up to his chest level, and the weirdest nose he'd ever seen. It was again, rounded, but . . . verdammt! What the hölle is wrong with this thing? A horse, yet not? From the looks on the faces of the men and women around him, their thought processes ended in roughly the same mental outburst. However, the oddest thing was the color of it's mane and skin. Light, sky-blue skin, and a rainbow mane. Rainbow! How did that evolve! That's nothing like proper camouflage! Then again, it could out-fly a German attack helicopter, so predators probably weren't a problem. Maybe they had a civilization? There were houses after all in the camera. Since they'd already blown their cover, they could probably, focus! Beigel had warned him that saying stuff to it wouldn't have any meaning since even if they had a language, it was statistically impossible that they should develop English or German as theirs. What mattered more, he had been told, was the tone of voice and posture that went along with his meaningless words. Calm, unafraid, friendly, were the adjectives that had been spoken. He raised his hand, nerves tingling. "We are representatives of Imperial Germany, and we come in peace, friend." The alien seemed surprised at the captain's greeting, shock manifest on its features. "Woah, who are you guys?" some idiot said, and the alien promptly flew off. Zorner whirled to his assembled command. "Who the hölle said that!?" Jais was the first to answer him, perched on the side of the landed Tiger. "Uh, sir, I think it said that . . ." "They speak English!?!" A purple alien quadruped and the blue/rainbow one from before stood inside a tree. "They speak Equestrian!?!" Author's Note Well, that's that. Now the lol's begin. Oh, and shout-out to Fimfiction user "Paddle Steamer" who commented on the last chapter with the words: "Queue helicopter vs. Rainbow Dash chase scene, and music." and the YouTube video of the song "Benny Hill Theme". You predicted what I had in mind for the Tiger/RD interactions. You predicted the music I'd listen to whilst writing that scene (and made it convenient to reach.) Let's have a digital round of applause for this fellow! Thank you SO MUCH for the support, and I'm glad y'all like it! Encounters of a mythical kind... and manticores.Zorner strode purposefully through the halls of the Vorreiter, eyes closed, in apparent deep thought. He was thinking, yes, but there was no way in hölle he was lapsing into deep thought with his gottverlassenen crew about . . . as a matter of fact, here comes another one. "Herr Kapitan, did you-" the poor man started. "YES! I AM WELL AWARE THE WINGED HORSE SPOKE FLUENT ENGLISH!" Zorner screamed, patience entirely destroyed by the hundredth time a German had posed the question to him. He had counted. The man scurried down the hallway past him, as Zorner continued toward the main briefing room, making up his mind. ~ The "briefing room" was no larger than a primary-level schoolroom, with the exception of the wall-sized video screen. Dewitz and his Marines, Strasser, Teske, Beigel, and fourteen other G-46 toting crewmen who had prior ground experience sat in folding chairs, staring at him expectantly.He complied. "Gentlemen, we have a unique situation on hand." he said, immediately regretting his painfully obvious word choice. "To put it lightly." Dewitz observed smiling, as if to complete the stereotype. "Curse, ze Amerikaners got here first!" "Almost everyone knows English now. We can focus on how they learned it later. Let's start with the basics. I see two ways this obviously-present civilization can work out." Zorner again. Beigel cut in, nodding. "Classic. We've observed it with human castaways after the Great Collapse stranded on planets and reverting to primitive methods. They were either highly hostile, or they were docile in the extreme." Maps and pictures that the ancient Tiger had taken were displayed on the screen. Dewitz filled them in with his report. "I wouldn't venture to guess either way on military capabilities. No visible guard towers in the strange mountain-city or nearby village, but we have this disturbing photo. He clicked a button on his PDA, and one of the sections of screen zoomed in to show a blurry image of one of "The Equines", as the crew had dubbed the aliens. Clear enough, however, was the floating object in front of the creature." "Levitation?" Zorner asked. "Biological or technological, yes. I would assume the former, since I can't fathom how they go about their daily lives with hooves. They level of civilization they show would require greater dexterity than they would lead us to believe." Teske commented. "Right. And this means they could probably levitate knives and hurl them at us, right?" Zorner said, rubbing his temples. "Uh, perhaps. If they have knives." Teske replied cautiously. "They speak English. We saw them carrying freaking picnic baskets. I honestly won't be surprised if we see a verdammt version of the Statue of Liberty here!" Zorner nearly yelled. "That thing is overrated." Strasser said. "True." Zorner conceded. "So, we play first contace by ear. A proper military kommadant would court-martial for my conduct." Zorner observed sadly. "But it's all we can do. We know next to nothing, and they seemed peaceful enough fleeing from out helicopters. Sitting here for days discussing our situation won't help." "Rightly said. We're quite unmilitaristic in our bearing here, but it can't be helped in any way." Dewitz reassured him, glancing to the rest of the Germans to find nods. "Besides, if they really are peaceful, it's for the best we don't look extremely militaristic." "Hm?" "Look at us. Humans. We've fought wars since the beginning of our existence, razed cities and invented weapons they might only think in nightmares. How could we explain why we built nuclear bombs?" Dewitz looked like he was going to continue, but he stopped suddenly and nodded to Zorner. "We'd better bring a TV and our whole standard-issue "Human History" DVD collection, sir." "Noted. Load the men in the Dingos and get ready to roll out to that road we saw earlier. No helos this time." Zorner ordered, and people started to move. ~ It had been a scratch operation, but that was true with the rest of the ship they came from. Five heavily armored infantry mobility vehicles, Dingo IIICs, purred softly as men and women in Klasse IV Forest Camouflage and combat armor climbed into their vehicles. With customary German efficiency, the column quickly rolled with a full Armed Recon load of ammunition and rations. Zorner himself rode in the second vehicle with Strasser and the scientists, while Dewitz and five of his marines crammed into the lead vehicle armed to the teeth. The five other marines were manning each of the vehicles' top mounted machine guns, keeping an eye out for trouble. Before ten minutes passed, they pulled out onto a fairly nondescript dirt road, heading in the direction of the nearby village. Outside, the vista rapidly changed from lush fields to a unusually thick forest. Sunlight danced on the roofs of the vehicles, slipping lazily through the hanging vines and canopy of the forest. Zorner's radio crackled. "Great place for an ambush, sir." Dewitz observed. Had they been walking, they probably would have been struck by an acute sense of unease. As it was, the only ones to feel it were the gunners whose upper torso stuck out of the roof of the Dingos, Gripping their heavy machine guns with growing unrest, all they could do was intently peer around at the thick foliage. Had they been walking, they also would have heard the crash of a large creature in front of them. It didn't really matter in the end, as the horrific beast burst out of the underbrush about two hundred feet in front of them. "Scheiße! Alle raus!" Zorner and Dewitz screamed into their radios simultaneously, and the drivers hurriedly pulled their vehicles over, passengers piling out before they even pulled to a stop. "Everyone out!" someone repeated in English. "Delta and Bravo, cover the flanks! Echo, rear! Jauer, Muhr, go!" The comforting sound of Dewitz yelling militaristic orders ringed in Zorner's earpiece as he swiveled his personal H&K MP7 at the forest to his immediate left, dropping to his knee to stabilize his weapon. Within seconds, the entire column was in position for repelling an ambush. Zorner couldn't resist turning his head to look at the proceedings up ahead. That creature . . . "Herr Oberst! That is a manticore, sir! A mythical beast from the earliest of history from Old Earth! one of the crewmen yelled over the radio, probably some kind of mythology or history buff. The thing was terrible. The body of a lion, the tail of a scorpion, and wings!?! The startling fact that such familiar creatures apparently existed here was forgotten in the other fact that it looked rather angry. "Jais! Get the Panzerfaust-4 out!" Dewitz ordered. Zorner started to protest, before: "Backup only! Jauer, Muhr, you know what to do!" The two mentioned Marines stood stolidly a dozen feet from the lead vehicle, drawing the attention of the great beast. Krieg Feldwebels Arnulf Jauer and Ursel Muhr were both New Afrika Korps Schließen Assult veterans from Southern Kulmar, and both probably thought the creature little below the boots of the American Urban Teams that had taught them how brutal war really could be. In short, neither was visibly perturbed by the "manticore". Jauer expertly aimed his Latin Arms Co. Immoderatum V Tazer Shotgun at the beast. It began to advance at the pair, unconcerned by their weapons. It was soon disabused of the notion. "Afrika Korps!" he screamed, echoing the rallying cry of his famous desert force in its most brutal days. "AFRIKA KORPS! HOORAH!" the entire squad echoed, and Jauer pulled the trigger. Twelve seperate conducive pins pierced the manticore's skin, and delivered a shock capable of downing an elephant (it's actual purpose, coincidentally). The beast simply went limp in mid-stride, coming down nearly at the feet of Muhr. She moved with practiced efficiency, stabbing what appeared to be an oversized combat knife into it's thigh, ducking under the twitch-like swing of it's wing as she did so. Job done, she drew her service H&K P18 pistol, and backed away from the spasms of the manticore. The concentrated tranquilizer took nearly immediate effect. Within seconds, the manticore lay in an unconscious heap. Zorner stood up and wiped his brow, shaking slightly at the release of nervous energy. He'd never really needed to worry. Rumor was the pair had volunteered to help collection services round up crazed, hostile elephants in the aftermath of the Silj Gas Attacks on Kulmar. They certainly were very skilled at what they just did, in addition to their normal job of killing the enemies of the Kaiser ruthlessly and efficiently. Enough of that. He raised his hand to his ear. "Excellent work, you two. Non-lethal takedowns are our mode of operation at last resort, good example." To the rest: "The tranq should last for a few hours. Echo, send for assistance from the Vorreiter and guard the beast. Tranq it again if necessary. Everyone else, move out!" The Germans did not notice the yellow equine slip away in a state of shock at the scene. ~ Celestia would explain their presence in time, Fluttershy was sure. In fact, the Princess was about to arrive in Ponyville with a sizable contingent of the Royal Guard, along with Shining Armor and Cadance. No doubt Twi would be happy at that . . . . . . and happier still to talk to these bipeds, to learn from them. They spoke Equestrian, after all. Taking that further, Rarity would be positively delighted to inspect their clothing and garments. And Rainbow Dash vocally wanted to see the pilot of the great Blade-Beast. Applejack would want to learn about their food. And she . . . she'd like to know how they calmed that poor angry manticore so easily. If they were OK with that, of course. Nightmare"Hell, I forget what I had for breakfast these days - but I never, never forgot the war." - unidentified veteran of the War of the Two Superpowers As the convoy unknowingly drove ever closer to a rather whimsical town, Krieg Feldwebel Arnulf Jauer slid back in his seat, the adrenalin high from taking down the "Manticore" having worn off, replaced by exhaustion. Luckily, he, like many veterans of urban warfare on Kulmar, was highly adept at sleeping in uncomfortable, dangerous, and downright miserable conditions. The erratically-bouncing Dingo barely qualified as the first, seeing as it was dry and there weren't artillery shells slamming into the ground around him. A definite improvement over his previous posting. He slid into unconsciousness . . . ~ The air stank. That fact was lost in the revelation that there was a distinct smell at all here. The Princess of the Night, co-ruler of Equestria, fittingly referred to as Luna, took in the surroundings of the dream she had entered. It was odd that a pony be sleeping at around mid-day, and odder still that they be dreaming - and that the dream contained so much pain. Pain. Her subjects suffered from anxiety, doubting, fear, rejection - not readily apparent from the surface of Equestrian society that most visitors saw on their official tours through Canterlot, but present nonetheless. This dream, however . . . pain really didn't begin to describe it. Sorrow, loss, fear, uncertainty, rage, Luna shook her head violently at the wave of emotions cascading around her. If one of her little ponies was in this much trouble, it was her solemn responsibility to do everything she could to help. She paused as another emotion clawed its way through the filth. Duty. How could she not have noticed it? In every layer of this dream, there was an impressively strong undercurrent of duty to some unseen cause in this pony's mind. Not quite youthful enthusiasm, much like the type she saw in the dreams of new Royal Guard - no, it was everywhere yet somewhat faint. Something more immediate was on . . . his, yes, his mind. She feared it had something to do with the incessant rumbling in the background. Yes, and the only way to find out more was to descend into the dream itself, and see what's what, as they said nowadays. ~ As she spiraled downward, the heavy clouds parted to reveal a truly massive city below her. She paused at the sight, then continued, uncertainty gnawing at the back of mind. No city in all of Equestria, and all its surrounding lands for that matter, even resembled this. The buildings themselves were not much larger than, say, Ponyville's houses, but there were so many of them! And then she took it in fully. Great clouds of pitch-black smoke hurled themselves into the sky from massive fires, bright flashes dotted below, and most disturbingly of all - the city itself was destroyed. Never had she seen such destruction. Half the buildings were complete wrecks, mere piles of rubble, and the other half were hardly better. They stood, but it was obvious they had gone through extreme forces to get to their current sorry states. It was becoming evident this was not Equestria as she knew it. Even as she continued towards the ground, and hopefully the poor creature, knowledge flooded her head as she began to take in the situation fully from the memories of the person. Person? This was not a pony. Bipeds. She neared the ground, strange crackling and popping sounding from all over. There she saw them, scurrying forward, unaware of her presence. The level of detail in this dream was incredible, she noted, and there was no doubt that this was in fact a memory in itself. She put two and two together in an instant. This was the dream of one of the alien creatures that her sister had left to meet in Ponyville! The ones she had felt approach Equestria! With mounting resolve, she dove into the thick of whatever was happening down there, to the source of the dream himself. Or, rather, many nearly-identical looking bipeds, dressed in some sort of ugly camouflage and identity-concealing helmets, and carrying a baffling assortment of black objects, brandishing them like weapons. A nearby explosion made her flinch, but also knocked the helmet off one of the creatures. There. The dreamer. Her elation was interrupted by a wet distinct wet thud, and she turned to the source of the noise only to see one of the bipeds slump back. To her horror, a bright red puddle began spreading from the chest of the unmoving creature. Blood. Luna backpedaled, physically and mentally. Were these the creatures that were almost upon her sister and the Elements? The dreamer screamed something, and another biped scrambled over, carrying a case and hurriedly pulling out what she could only assume to be medical supplies. It dawned on her that the dreamer's apparently intense concentration at the event was muffling the noise, as the constant flinching and tensing of the bipeds evidenced more than she was getting led onto. Another, more massive explosion, this time practically on top of the group of huddling bipeds, sending the dreamer hurtling into a wall. Concentration shattered by the concussion, the full roar of the surrounding world smashed into Luna's hearing like a solid wall, sending her reeling at the sudden onslaught of noise. Explosions near and far, incessant popping and rippling the dream told her was gunfire, the growl of great machines - now she saw in the dreamer's concentration, the memory had barely shown anything of what had really been happening. Metal beasts roared overhead, their blades slicing through the air at blurring speeds, hurling burning lances at a point beyond her distance, and on a road nearby she saw massive, grey boxes speeding down the cracked surface, belching smoke and fire from a tube affixed to it. Around her, the screams and cries of the bipeds flowed and ebbed. Many fell, torn apart before her eyes by unseen forces, while others went down in pools of their own blood, keeping their dignity in their silence as the apparent doctors worked frantically to keep them alive. The ones still on their feet pointed their metal tubes in front of them, as the tips flashed and roared. Guns, the memories told her, and similarly armed bipeds were the source of all the death and horror around her. They were killing each other, this species. Yet none faltered, encouraged by the presence of their comrades. It would have been impressive, but the presumed end result of all this was too horrible to contemplate. Lost in the panorama of killing before her, she stepped directly into the dreamer's view, who was currently kneeling over the bloody figure of a fellow biped, evidently the source of anguish and reason why this particular dream was so vivid. Then again, it was hard to fathom any creature letting the details of an experience like this blurring out and becoming abstract, like many of her subject's dreams. The biped chose that moment to look up, tears staining his face. His eyes narrowed in confusion at the sight of the majestic blue pony standing casually in the crossfire between the two forces, then widened in recognition- -and at that moment, Luna returned to her chambers in the Canterlot Palace. There, the images of the dream fresh in her mind and readily processed in full, she walked numbly to her bed, and collapsed into sleep of her own. ~ Jauer sat up with a start, his hand instinctively brushing the rifle at his side before he relaxed, remembering the comparatively peaceful, yet alien, land they were in. Nothing like a horrible nightmare to put things into perspective, he thought. DeWitz twisted around in the forward passenger's seat, handing the now fully-alert Marine a moist toilette. "Clean yourself up, we're almost at the town." the Oberst said, before turning back to his partially-disassembled G-63. "Right." Jauer acknowledged, before jumping up and smacking his head on the ceiling, eyes wide. "What?" DeWitz asked, speaking for the rest of the lead Dingo's passengers. "My dream!" the soldier almost yelled. "What about it? We all get those." his commander responded, eyebrow raised. "There was an equine in it, Sir." "What?" "And when I saw it, it disappeared." Any other place, and DeWitz would have dismissed the report. This was no ordinary place. Author's Note Welcome to war, Luna. Welcome to Ponyville, Kapitan."Well, they didn't kill us." - Kapitan Arnhem Zorner "Sir, ETA five minutes to the, er, village, we have on our maps." The Kapitan grunted as he put away his data-pad, and popped open a mirror to start looking over his grey over dark blue Kaiserliche Marine uniform. Utilitarian and rather out-of place, but hopefully easy to distinguish from the rest of the Germans, with their green Klasse IV Forest Camouflage. The last thing he wanted was an alien leader to approach a taller or bigger comrade of his, thinking the strongest was the one in charge of the humans. He spared a last glance at the data-pad, trying to recall the various facets of Greek Mythology that he had frantically pulled up after their encounter with the "manticore". And the pegasus, as the texts told him was the blue equine. A horribly deformed one, according to the "traditional" pictures, but unmistakably a pegasus. Teske and Biegel were insistent that he play the leader role - as long as they didn't slaughter everyone with some ungodly alien weapon first. They crested a hill, and the crewman driving the Dingo suddenly jolted upright, and pointed out the window. Fearing another monster, Zorner reached for his pistol as he followed the outstretched finger's aim to whatever lay ahead. A second of comprehension later, he hurriedly holstered his weapon and instead grabbed at his radio. "All units! Stop and pull over, alternate sides, dismount!" he ordered, and jumped out of the vehicle the second it lurched to a halt at the side of the road. All eyes gazed at the pink bubble before them. Down the road, about five-hundred feet away, was the village, clearly visible despite the semi-translucent, well, shield, improbably covering the entire town in a huge sphere. Of more consequence were the group of Equines that stood just in front of the shield, on the road they were travelling on. "Looks like a leader, Herr Kapitan." DeWitz observed through his binoculars. "Big white one there, looks like it's taller than us. Call it a half a meter or so." "Numbers?" "Eh, looks like nine of the normal ones besides the leader. I think three of them have armor, sir." "Armor? Elaborate." Zorner ordered with a hint of worry in his voice. Crewmen around him nervously shifted their weapons about. "Perhaps I wasn't clear enough. Zorner, that's honest-to-Gott plate armor they're wearing." DeWitz said, shaking his head in disbelief at his own words. "Plate armor . . ." "Got it. Alright, Marinesoldaten, DeWitz, on me. Everyone else, stay with the vehicles." Zorner commanded, starting forward before his mind had a chance to protest the move. "Oh," he said, snapping to a halt and whirling around to face Strasser, who had remained at the side of his Dingo. ",record this so I can get a Ritterkreuz out of this." Strasser reached into the vehicle and activated the dash-mounted video camera, before stepping back and muttering something about "that's not how that award works". Zorner continued down the slightly loose slope, repeating the Fatherland's Creed over and over in his head. In wearing this Cross, I accept the responisiblity of service to the Fatherland and fealty to its people. Duty will sustain me, and duty will guide me wherever my service takes me. I am the sword and the shield of Germany and I thus swear to uphold it's sacred history and take whatever action is necessary to do so. I belong, body and soul to my country, and nothing, nothing can relieve me of that duty save death. Zorner glanced over to his Marine Oberst, and they locked eyes. Body and soul, till death. For the Fatherland., DeWitz mouthed, gripping his Iron Cross tightly with one hand. ~ "You may want to get a little ahead of your companions, Herr Kapitan." Strasser noted in the radio as they neared the group of aliens. "So if they're hostile, they only kill me - got it." Zorner replied dryly, but nevertheless complying with the tip. "Front." DeWitz whispered to his Kapitan, succeeding in snapping his gaze back on target. This was it. He, Arnhem Zorner, was going to be the first human to meet another form of sentient life in the universe. Gott, what a mixed blessing if there ever was one. Why him? He tried to snap out of it, the last few meters from what he figured was a polite distance, but gave in to his thoughts one last time before, as he would imagined, he would be very dead or very busy. He wasn't trained for this. Growing up in the trade routes had given him some rudimentary experience with space travel. The Frankfurt Space Academy had drilled he and his fellow cadets ruthlessly in the art of vacuum combat - and it was exactly that, an art. How to deal with hull breaches, knowing your engines inside and out, having every possible contingency and possible disaster ready to meet a swift response. In short, he was trained to utilise an extremely complicated machine in the most lethal environment known to man to kill others. Sure, they had passed out the handbooks and the ROE's had the "extra terrestrially sentience" section, but no one took those seriously, least of all him. No, when he had a spare moment he was reading up on some new American tactic or better ways of keeping his crew's morale up - not something that basically reiterated "don't kill them on first sight and good luck". Still . . . Zorner barely suppressed a smile as the sheer enormity of the situation finally occurred to him. Taking a deep breath - possibly his last - he stepped up to the white Equine as he reviewed his prepared speech one last time . . . Crap. How did it begin again? He could only stare helplessly at the alien before him as painfully awkward seconds ticked by. He couldn't help but notice the stern-looking Equines, presumably guards, who stood rigidly in their gleaming armor, spears somehow gripped in their hooves. Finally, it seemed the alien could take it no longer. "Do you speak Equestrian?" a distinctively female voice inquired, to his surprise, from one of the the other, shorter Equines standing behind their leader, who had walked out a little ways. Purple. A technicolor array of aliens stood before him, but purple. Some odd take on a unicorn, according to his mythology texts, if that horn was anything to tell. Which was much to short for the thing to conceivably employ it in stabbing things, as mythological (and biblical) unicorns were often portrayed doing. That either meant it was for some other purpose. was decorational, or that they had developed some less crude way of killing. Oh yeah, she did speak. And thus, he started the first conversation in humanity's history with another sentient race . . . "We don't call it that, but I can understand you.." he replied, his voice flat and conveying far less emotion than he felt. The purple one's face split into an impossibly wide grin, as he became aware she was visibly bouncing a little in sheer excitement, already large-eyes seeming to take every feature of his self in. He waited for the leader to reprimand the purple one, or at least take some control, but all it had was a ghost of a smile. "I have so many questions!" the purple one suddenly exclaimed, then sat back on her haunches, as if to ponder what to open with. Zorner responded with a smile, and turned back to DeWitz and company, giving a curt nod that spoke volumes of "They haven't killed me! (yet)". "I know! Where are from? No, who are you? What's your name? What do you do? What are you wearing? Why are you here? I . . . I . . ." Another voice cut in, and Zorner recognized a very-amused DeWitz, walking up. "Hamburg, Germany, human, Josef Dewitz, Marinesoldaten, Klasse IV Forest Pattern camouflage and Mark III Light Armor, and I'm just following this guy." he said in one breath, pointing at Zorner at the last answer. If the unicorn showed any surprise, she did a remarkable job of hiding it. Instead, she stuck out a ~~hand~~ hoof to the two humans. "Well, hello Mr. DeWitz. I'm Twilight Sparkle." The Oberst knelt down to shake her hoof, and Zorner turned his gaze to the bemused leader. "I am Korvetten Kapitan Arnhem Zorner of the Kaiserliche Marine. In the name of the Kaiser and the Fourth Reich, I extend an olive branch of peace and friendshi- by the way, I didn't write this." he finished, a look of embarrassment breaking through his artificially stern demeanor. The Equine stifled a laugh. "And I am Princess Celestia. Well met, 'human'." She had a much more . . . mature, voice, that was sure. "Likewise. On the behalf of my country, Imperial Germany, I hope that you are as eager to learn about us as we are to you." Celestia glanced at the eager Twilight, and chuckled. "Oh yes, you could say that." "So, will we just . . ." "Care to discuss this inside?" she asked, tilting her head towards the shield. Zorner took a visible breath, and nodded. "Of course." DeWitz reached for his radio, and handed it to Zorner. "Mien Kapitan." To the soldier: "Thanks." To the radio: "We're alive, and talking. Contact is a success, as far as I'm concerned." Twilight looked at the device oddly, and opened her mouth before Celestia quieted her with a glance. She looked rather down, until her leader reassured her with a gentle smile and nod to the human. "I'm sure you have plenty of questions." Zorner observed. The purple unicorn bobbed her head up and down frantically. "Well, we have plenty of time." Author's Note Hey look, a wild chapter. I feel a little uneasy about his one, since it feels to me as rushed as it is, but I digress. Also, I think I'll be splitting up the perspectives a bit. Shining Armor talks to DeWitz about military, Twilight and Zorner on history, etc. One thing I can assure of: there will be no "sudden threats" that will end casual time and force the humans to unload some good 'ol dakka on whomever tries to interrupt their meeting with the ponies. Also x2: 200 likes! <3 Also x3: Outlooks will be updated. SOON. Also x4: I adore your comments, guys. Trust me, I read every one of them. Also x5: I really need an editor some time . . . Also x6 New story in the works. And remember, it's never as bad as it seems.
Space exploration ain't all it's cracked up to be.Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the SMS Vorreiter IV, and Star Trek made it look easy. -Kapitan Arnhem Zorner's captain's log Nobody said this assignment would be easy. That's basically inviting an asteroid to come hurtling out of nowhere to ruin your day. Then again, he had thought it would be. In hindsight, it wasn't that he had particularly minded the last combat tour he had served in. The ship had been older, yes, and the Americans just as competent at trying to kill him, but that hell was nothing compared to this hell. Nothing to fight. Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to survive. That is, except his own ship. Kapitan Arnhem Zorner wasn't having a great year. "The Americans should stop trying kill us with missiles and railguns, Dewitz." he observed to the man casually seated next to him. "Oh? And what should they use, pray tell?" Oberst Josef Dewitz replied in a disinterested manner that spoke volumes of what he thought of that idea. "They should steal the specs to this ship, build hundreds of them, give them all to us in perfect working order, then have a field day in five years." Zorner observed. Dewitz sat up to that, and smiled wryly at his superior. "Pfft. They'd win the war in days, wouldn't they?" "Yup. Who woulda thought this thing practically came with an expiration date?" the captain groaned, looking out the cracked viewport in the ship's lounge. That there were 45 more micro-panes in addition to the cracked one was irrelevant, the mere existence of the cracks were disturbing. “Ranting about my ship again, eh?” a new voice chastised. Zorner turned to the speaker, Technischer Offizier Carl Strasser, who stood at the doorway of the lounge with his arms folded. “My ship, Strasser. Not yours.” Strasser waved his hand dismissively at him. “Herr Kapitan, I mean no disrespect, but this ship would not function adequately without my presence. Therefore, in a sense . . . it is my ship. “Ah, but I command my crew and make all the important decisions of this ship.” Zorner shot back. It occurred to him he really must be bored to allow himself to argue with his egocentric Technischer Offizier, instead of just pulling rank. Strasser seemed surprised as well, but quickly gave the Kapitan a cocky smile, one that promised a good argument. “I can run farther than both of you.” Dewitz cut in. Zorner and Strasser turned to face the Marinesoldaten Oberst as one. “What?” Zorner asked. “And how does that effect the proceedings, Herr Oberst?” Strasser added. Dewitz raised his eyebrows at Strasser, and held his arms out in front of him. “Just thought I’d put things in perspective.” The slightly overweight 26 year-old glowered at the soldier. The two never really got along all that well anyways. Strasser was short and whose long auburn hair fell over the rim of his glasses and obscured whatever his hands where gripping at the moment, whether it was a wrench in the engine room or a comic book in his bunk. Dewitz, on the other hand, was the most stereotypical soldier Zorner had ever seen . Tall, muscular, and powerful, he cut an imposing figure even without his combat armor to enhance his bulk. He kept his blond hair combed straight back at all times. Crew members joked behind his back he would have made a great model for an SS poster 180 years ago. Of course, thinly-veiled references to Nazi Germany were highly frowned upon, but the comparison just was too good. One of the crew had even found an SS recruitment poster on the Internet with a ramrod-straight, iron jawed Stahlhelm-wearing Death Head badge toting SS Panzergrenadier that looked exactly like Dewitz. Of course, that was before they set out on the exploration mission. The Internet was just a distant memory two months in, and the ship-wide "Internet" was falling pathetically short. When only ten people were off-duty at any one time on average, it wasn't very engaging. "Seriously though, Strasser, why are you here?" Zorner hurriedly asked to break the tension. "Guess." was his only response. Zorner rolled his eyes. "What broke this time?" "Overspace Transmitter. IFF shaft split completely in two this morning." "Ouch." Dewitz winced. "It'll take at least three month to rig a new one up, Herr Kapitan." Strasser concluded. "Three months? Seriously?" Zorner queried. He was no engineer, but he knew something about his transmitter, and the IFF transmitter did not take that long to replace. The Technischer Offizier gave him a wry smile. "Two months doing fixing more important things, then one week scrounging up replacements, and two weeks of installation, sir.” “That estimation seemed remarkably rushed, Strasser,” Dewitz commented, “especially for you.” “Indeed it was, Herr Oberst. The transimitter is not of special importance.” Strasser responded. Seeing the soldier’s confused expression, Zorner decided to clarify. “Yes, Dewitz. In any other case the loss of the transmitter would command the utmost attention and devotion of resources.” “And a mission in the depths of uncharted space doesn’t qualify?” “There are two unique reasons. One, our ship has so many things breaking that if we devoted concentrated effort to fixing it without considering other jobs, well . . .” Strasser paused with a sigh. Zorner cut in. “Let me phrase this delicately, Dewitz. Would you rather the bulkhead separating the storage bay from space split open, or be unable to talk to Imperial Space Command (ISC)? Dewitz rolled his eyes at that. “No, talking to ISC doesn’t rate over death.” “Good. Two, the special nature of our mission actually dictates that we only contact ISC in the case of abandoning ship, or discovery of intelligent life.” Zorner finished. “And since even the Overspace Transmitter is only capable of delivering a message to ISC command’s Transmit Hub in Berlin with a minimum delay of a week,” added Strasser, “we’re either probably dead or discovered something that has the – Heinrich!” he called to the only other person seated in the lounge. “Jawohl, Herr Technischer Offizier!” the youth replied, his chair scraping on the floor as he snapped to his feet, saluting. “Calm yourself. This isn’t Konigsberg Space Academy, ensign.” Zorner said to one of the ten fresh crewmembers that had joined the Vorreiter IV for the voyage. “Ja, Herr Kapitan.” he said, nodding. To Strasser: “What do you require Offizier?” “What’s the ship-wide odds that we find intelligent life again?” Strasser asked, winking to Zorner. “Uh, 1 to 20, Herr Offizier.” Heinrich said. “Danke, Heinrich. Continue . . . whatever you’re doing.” Strasser strained over Zorner’s shoulder at the object in his hand. “Playing a chess match against Helen in Engineering, sir.” he replied sheepishly, holding up his tablet. “What!?!” Strasser snapped. “She’s off duty, sir. Still in the Engine room though, watching the recently fixed FTL drive in case of an overheat. You ordered that, sir.” Heinrich said with a raised eyebrow. “When did I order one of my people to watch an engine?” Strasser wondered out loud. “This morning?” Dewitz inquired. “It was in the mess hall at breakfast, if I recall. There was a lot of groaning.” “Oh.” was all that Strasser said. “Ja, I remember know.” “You’re growing old Strasser.” Dewitz declared. “I’m twenty-six years old.” he replied flatly. “I couldn’t tell.” Zorner interjected. Without visible reaction, Strasser promptly sat up and exited the room, bumping into Dewitz still in the doorway, before turning left in the hallway presumably bound for Engineering. Zorner and Dewitz laughed, and Heinrich just shrugged and went back to his chess match. “You’re the worst example in the Kaiserleich Marine, Zorner.” Dewitz stated, then turned serious. “Anyways, what’s with this betting business?” “There are 60 people aboard this ship. 3 of them believe the possibility exists that we’ll locate intelligent life on this voyage. Thus, 1 to 20 odds.” Zorner said. “Explain more.” Dewitz commanded. Zorner opened his mouth to do so, but a light in the Bluetooth on his ear blinked. Raising his hand to his ear, he clicked the device on. “Ja?” he spoke tersely. The voice of his Executive Offizier, Eccard Stricker, crackled through . “We’re coming out of FTL and are arriving at Adequate-928 at this time, Herr Kapitan.” “I will be present in two minutes,” Zorner promised, then stood up and turned to Dewitz. “Follow.” Both men started walking briskly through the environs of the ship towards the Bridge. As they were walking, Zorner continued. “As you can see, my crew isn’t convinced that this mission will be worthwile” “I don’t.” Dewitz admitted. “I’m assuming the two scientists think it might? “Yup.” “Who was the third, then?” “Me, of course! How can the captain of a ship admit to his crew their on pointless mission?” “Lovely. Do you actually believe, sir?” “He ought to.” a new voice interjected from behind, causing both men to jump. “The infamous Kurtt Beigel.” Zorner stated. “Ja, Chief Science Offizier himself. You know, we are travelling much farther into Uncharted Space than any other expedition before. The possibility of life always exists.” Beigel said. “You’re why we’re here.” Dewitz nodded. The trio reached the Bridge at this moment, the door sliding open to receive them. All six men seated at their consoles swiveled to face the incoming Kapitan, and they saluted as one. Meanwhile, the Marinesoldaten guard stationed at the door yelled out, “Herr Kapitan on deck!” and all present saluted. “Thank you, thank you.” Zorner gushed, bowing dramatically. “That never gets old.” he admitted to Dewitz beside him a moment later. One of the men at the consoles stood up to deliver his report. “Herr Kapitan, we shall be viewing Adequate-928 any second now.” “Is it vain?” one of the crew asked aloud, as per recently-formed tradition. “Is the planet green?” another said. “Does it contain oxygen in its air?” still another cried out. “Will life be present!?” Zorner whispered, completing the New-Planet ritual of the Vorreiter IV. Said planet appeared in the viewport. The Bridge was suddenly very quiet. They watched the planet below intently without a word spoken. A minute passed. Then another. Finally, Dewitz voiced what everyone else was thinking. “Yes on first?” "It's green." Beigel breathed, eyes wide. "Green . . ." Zorner repeated. "That thing looks terraformed!" a crew member exclaimed. "Holy shi-" Dewitz began, only to be cut off by: "Herr Kapitan! Evasive maneuvers suggested!" the helmsman yelled. "What is it?" Zorner instantly replied, turning away from the beckoning sphere in the viewport. "The system's star sir! It's speed has increased drastically, and collision is imminent!" The ship's sensors confirmed the same thing a seconds later, and the engines kicked into full ahead as the computer automatically boosted the vessel out of harm's way. "What the hell is going on!?" Zorner asked as calmly as he could. "Sir, the planet's moon has also increased speed." "What's happening?" "It's almost as if the star and moon here are controlled by another . . ." Beigel wondered out loud. "Explain." Zorner commanded tersely. Before he could, a crewman interrupted him. "Sir . . . sensor reports of the planet coming in now." The computer's calm voice broke over the occupants of the Bridge. "Air Composition: Mainly Oxygen/Nitrogen. Adequate," "Gravity: 0.05 less than normal. Optimal". "Organic Matter: Present." Another crewman had information. "Long-Distance cameras operational. Live feed coming in now, sir." she reported. An image flickered on the main screen, above the primary viewport. "Trees, sir?" Dewitz said out loud. "Trees?" Beigel exclaimed. "This is incredible!" "Wait, what's that?" the camera operator wondered out loud, panning the view to the left as she did so. A building hove into view. On the surface of the planet, a strikingly tall, glisteningly white quadruped grunted in what could pass as annoyance. "What is it?" she called. Another similar but smaller, armored creature spoke. "Luna reports a disturbance in the sky." She sat up. Author's Note First MLP fanfiction is a go! Not much to say so far, except that in this fic I'm going to try and put a different light on the military in general, unlike many other fimfictions I've read (hint: they aren't very tolerant/smart/realistic). Have a nice day!
Nobody said this would be easy . . . but we hoped.Did that gottverdammte Overspace Transmitter REALLY need 198 separate parts to it? No. Of course it did not. - Kapitan Arnhem Zorner's captain log The Bridge crew gaped at the picture, now projected on to the main screen. A couple of neat, brown-roofed structures that appeared to resemble normal, almost idealistic village houses. Vegetation was present, but what struck the crew most was the presence of several bright shapes moving about. The video quality was rather poor for a German vessel, however, and the shapes remained just that, not getting any clearer. "This is . . . " Beigel trailed off, "Mien Gott in Himmel, gentlemen." Zorner said in awe. A smile broke out into his face. "Hold on." Biegel commanded to the camera operator. "Can you zoom in?" She frowned. "Nien, Herr Offizier. It's . . . kind of stuck on this zoom setting." "Can you pan further? All we see are a couple structures." "Uh . . . nope. This camera was designed for lower closer views than this." "Verdammt noch mal!" Beigel hissed, his mood abruptly shifting from elated to anger. Zorner held up a cautionary hand. "Whoa, you're actually lucky, man." "So close!" "Our camera was stuck on the highest zoom setting! Do you know how useless it was before this situation occurred, Beigel?" "Oh. My apologies, Herr Kapitan." Beigel perked up. "But still . . . trees! Do you understand the significance of this?" Dewitz gave him a dubious look. "They're just trees. What about the buildings?" "Those I accept more readily. I can only assume the act of shielding oneself from the outside world could be easily replicated. Of course, to have them look so similar to human structures is stupendous in itself, but the trees!" An silence fell over the Bridge as Beigel stopped speaking for a minute and stood rooted in place, a dreamy smile on his face. Before anyone asked the obvious question, he started talking again, so rapidly he almost couldn't be understood. "As I see by your underwhelming reactions, the presence of trees is taken for granted on life-filled worlds. However, stop and think. Trunk, bark, leaves - the evolutionary process that created all the individual parts of a tree is so complex, so completely unique . . . the odds of this exact same species of vegetation being the dominant type like on normal terraformed planets are virtually nil! To find such a familiar sight here, a forest!" "Enthusiasm noted." Dewitz said, smiling as well, an action taken by the entire crew present. "Does that thing have a screen capture feature?" Beigel practically yelled at the applicable crew woman. "We're on the SMS Verreiter IV, Beigel." she laughed. "Hm?" "In other words, no, Herr Offizier." she clarified, rolling her eyes. Beigel responded by pulling his smartphone out and snapping a picture of the screen. Dewitz laughed at that. "You're taking a picture of another terrible-quality picture?" he pointed out. "Screw it, what else can I do?" Beigel replied testily. Zorner cut in at what he felt was an appropriate time. "Dewitz, our friend here will get much more than a better view." he said with a discernible sparkle in his eye. "What?" Zorner turned to another crewmember. "So the air is breathable, eh?" "Uh, yeah." His hand flew up to his earset, and he fiddled with the device briefly before Strasser's voice came streaming in. "Ja, Herr Kapitan? Good thing you called, our FTL drive did overheat a few minutes ago, and repairs will take a couple of-" "Do our landing thrusters work properly?" Zorner asked abruptly, drawing a couple of stares. "Er . . . actually, yeah, they do. If you don't mind me asking, why are you asking?" Strasser replied, confusion evident in his speech. Zorner turned to Dewitz. "Head down the stern and fill in Strasser, and get your marines together." he ordered. To Stricker: "Notify ISC we're about to attempt a landing." The Bridge crew broke out into grins. "Sir?" his Executive Offizier asked. "What?" "The Overspace Transmitter . . . it's, you know . . ." "Scheiße!" "And you're sure that the thrusters won't fail?" Zorner asked to Strasser. "Ja, Kapitan. If it'll make you stop asking, shoot me if it does." an exasperated man replied. "If it does, we'll be dead anyways." "Then shoot me on the way down, just take my word that it'll work, alright?" "Fine." Zorner conceded, only to spin to face his Scanner Offizier. "And you're sure the air is breathable, Hopf?" "Jawohl, Herr Kapitan. Why would I lie - you know what, if you think that all five of our atmospheric scanners are saying the exact same faulty reading, go ahead." "What if there's a vent that's throwing oxygen at them, or . . . or." Dewitz came to the rescue of the man. "Zorner, five scanners with the same reading, down to the hundredths, all false? That's pretty low, even for the Verreiter, man." "Fine." he conceded. "Proceed with the landing." Half the Verreiter's crew, and all eight of Dewitz's marines, Beigel and the other scientist Teske, and Zorner stood in front of the main airlock of the ship, watching the altimeter impatiently. The room was cramp, and dimly lit by a single bulb in the ceiling, but it was growing noticeably brighter as they descended gradually into the atmosphere of Adequate-928. The voice of Stricker from the Bridge blared from a wall speaker. "Estimated time of landing, two minutes. Good luck." "ETOL two minutes." Zorner repeated to everyone somewhat unnecessarily, trying to maintain the facade of the calm and stoic nature captains were for some reason always supposed to have, regardless of the situation. Especially this one. "Say," Teske spoke up suddenly, "Who's going first?" "Hm?" Dewitz grunted. "Someone has to go first just to make sure our scanners weren't lying. You know, no airborne contagions, unknown deadly chemicals, invisible fatal flying blobs . . . this is an alien planet with alien life gentlemen and ladies. Prepared for anything must be our motto." Dewitz looked over his marines. "It has to be one of the soldiers. They're armed and know how to handle themselves in stressful situations." Zorner looked peeved at that. "So does my crew." he argued back. "On the ground Herr Kapitan." "Aha." Dewitz turned and his gaze singled out the nearest marine. "Hauptgefreiter Margarete Jais!" he called out to the redhead. "Jawohl?" "You go first." "What? How is that fair?" "The rest of us," Dewitz gestured to himself and the seven other soldiers, "are too experienced to risk." Jais's eyes narrowed at her commander. "I have been on two combat tours on Kulmar as a Panzergrenadier in the 12th Panzer for a total of two years, received the Iron Cross First Class among other awards, and am a Lance Corporal and I'm expendable?" "So?" Dewitz scoffed. "We all served three combat tours for three years and got the Knight's Cross." "I call bull on that one, Sir. "If this was Kulmar, I'd court-marshal your arsch back to Berlin!" Dewitz growled. "But this is the Verreiter and we're having this argument to entertain ourselves, so there." Dewitz and Jais smiled and shook hands, and Jais stepped back and saluted. "I'll go, Herr Oberst. No need to argue." The ship shook, then came to a complete stop. Unnaturally still, for a space ship. "We're here." Zorner announced. "For the Fatherland and Kaiser." Jais murmured under her breath, and stepped into the open airlock. "When is it gonna do its thing?" she asked through the digital speaker. Those present broke into grins, staring at the monitor she couldn't see that said Airlock Open. Jais caught on quickly, and returned the grin. The outside door opened, and a ramp extended from the side of the ship to the grass below. Jais stepped out on to the ramp, holding up her arm to shield her eyes from the star's light. When she adjusted at the bottom of the short ramp, she looked around. The Verreiter had touched down in a peaceful, quaint little field with a thick forest about a hundred feet off. The rest of the men and women in the airlock room ran out to join her, eagerly sucking in the alien air. Laughter filled the air. Even Dewitz was grinning ear to ear as the realization he was standing on an alien planet, alive and bathed comfortably in its starlight, and he chatted with Jais amiably. Zorner, while smiling, was more immediately practical. "Strasser, get the helos out of the storage hangar. In fact, get the Dingos out too while you're at it. Beigel-" But alas, the scientist wasn't listening. "Flowers!? Butterflies!?! he practically screamed. Zorner laughed. Author's Note And there ya have it.
I would say it looks annoyed, sir.You know, a thermal scan would've helped. - Kapitan Arnhem Zorner's captain log "Clear the loading deck!" Zorner glanced up sharply at the pronouncement from the wall speaker, as did every other man and woman around him. Loading decks were no joke, especially on the Vorreiter. He'd seen once what the deck could do to a man if they weren't paying attention . . . He shook his head. Oddly enough, his thoughts were wandering when he thought they would be sharply focused, being on an alien planet and all. On with the offloading, then. He tapped his earpiece. "Commence." he ordered. The rear eighth of the ship's bottom promptly gave way and swung down. Quickly. Way too quickly. Zorner winced as the loading ramp smashed into the grass with a thud. Thankfully, there wasn't any visible damage. "Scheiße." Dewitz observed. His earpiece crackled. "Uh, the servos gave out, sir." an unusually sheepish Strasser said from the ramp control console. "We noticed." Zorner dryly observed. "Hey, at least the ramp managed to lower." "That is a valid point, Herr Kapitan. I'll get the first of the helos off now, then." Zorner turned and strode away as a venerable Tiger attack helicopter rolled down the somehow functioning cargo rails. He needed to find Teske and Beigel, who had managed to wander off somewhere, probably with the two marines Dewitz had assigned to protect them. In fact, there came the marine Oberst himself, running up to talk to him. "Herr Kapitan!" he called out. "Ja?" "Sir, instructions for the helo? It's gassed up and'll be ready to go in a couple of minutes." "I'm aware of that." "Well, sir . . . I'm qualified as a gunner for the Tiger." "Oh, really? Is there anyone else?" "Nein. Jais is the pilot." "Excellent. She exhibits common sense, good judgement, and well-placed humor in her daily life aboard the ship." "And I don't?" "Humor perhaps." he shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Let's get this operation looking like it's run by Germans, shall we?" "Of course. I have pre-flight checks to go through, if you'll excuse me Kapitan." "Sure." Zorner stood in the bridge of the Vorreiter, gazing over a scattering of video screens that had been brought up to coordinate the exploration of Adequate-928. "Ready?" he spoke through a radio. "Ja. This is Tiger-1, over." "Acknowledged. Flight status?" "All pre-flight checks performed flawlessly, sir. Ten foot test hop achieved as well." "Excellent. Proceed with lift-off. You will be monitored closely. Operations out." "In case we crash." Jais observed over the intercom. Dewitz had to stifle a chuckle at that. "At least you didn't say that to Zorner. He'd throw a fit. He's in that serious mood of his, eh?" "And you aren't?" she asked, flipping the switch to the ignition. "Not one smoke cloud on the horizon to be seen. I can't take this seriously. None of us can." "Except for the scientists." "Got that right!" Dewitz laughed. "The rest of us see butterflies ignore them. They ask 'how the hölle did they evolve here?'" "Alright, bringing her up." Jais said, easing up on the throttle. The attack helicopter slowly lifted off the makeshift landing pad with an unmuffled roar. "All systems functioning properly." Dewitz reported, opening the comms channel back to the Vorreiter. "Excellent! Proceed to waypoint Alpha, in that case." Zorner ordered, relief evident in his voice. Jais grinned to herself as the gunned the engine, sending the Tiger hurtling through the air for a briefest of seconds before it slowly decelerated to a more normal speed. "And that's the power of German engineering!" "Speed test completed. Everything but the verdammten Vorreiter, eh? Everything." Dewitz sighed, pulling out his old but nevertheless deadly Heckler and Koch MP7 out of a slot in the side of the gunners cockpit. "Waypoint Alpha." Jais stated, bringing the conversation back on track. "Ja. Two klicks to the north." Waypoint Alpha was a thick forest near the estimated location of the buildings they had spotted from orbit, from which the ship had tried to land a close to as possible. No machine was perfect though, even a German machine and especially the Vorreiter, and the actual landing site in the little field was some ways south of the area. "Waypoint Alpha half a klick out," Dewitz reported, "Infrared sight on." he noted a moment later, thumbing the switch on the gunner's console for the infrared sight for the 30 mm nose cannon. "What the hölle?" he exclaimed a moment later. A series of bright splotches were clustered around what appeared to be a blanket of some sort on a nearby hill where the forest ended. He rapidly switched infrared off and grabbed a pair of binoculars hung around his neck for the trip, as the second-rate Tiger hadn't come with a working zoom for the 30 mm. "What do you see?" Jais called up from her position. "Horses? Four legged creatures, with a discernible head, it appears." he observed, mouth agape. "Slow down!" he ordered sharply. "Don't let them see us!" The Tiger shuddered as it slammed to a halt in midair, but it was too late. The horse-things looked rather startled to see the attack helicopter hovering over the forest, and started to flee. All except for one. "Heilige scheiße! Bandit inbound!" Jais screamed. A bolt of color, rainbow, accelerated towards them at an impossible rate of speed, and halted right outside the cockpit. The creature gazed in at them, tapping on the glass, mouth moving. "What's happening!?" Zorner called from Operations. "It looks . . . annoyed, sir?" Dewitz said with as much disbelief as the people back at the Vorreiter had. Outside the glass, the blue, winged quadruped tapped impatiently on the hide of the strange beast. "What the hay?" it asked in perfect in English, voice laced indeed with annoyance "Don't you see we're eating here?!"
English."What's going on, then, verdammt!" Zorner demanded through the radio. Dewitz averted his gaze from the alien. "Contact with a native lifeform, Herr Kapitan!" "What!?! How? Where?" Dewitz winced at the volume of his Kapitan. "It's tapping on my cockpit window, sir." he informed him, and was greeted by silence. Meanwhile, the blue creature continued to tap on the glass and move its move. "Is it . . . hostile?" "As I said sir, it looks annoyed. It appears to be flying next to our helo, and -" Beigel's voice cut in. "Wait, so it's facial expressions are comparable to ours?" "You could say that!" Dewitz yelled, panicking. "What do we do?" Heedless, Beigel continued. "Remember, Imperial German Extraterrestrial Rules of Engagement command that you cannot harm an intelligent alien unless it physically harms one of us first! "Yes, I understand! I'm useless in the gunner's seat! What do we do!?" "Lead it back to the ship!" Beigel advised. "No!" Zorner countermanded. "We're not ready to establish relations! We don't know anything about these things! Shake it off, then return to base!" "Will do, Herr Kapitan. Out." Jais said, then flicked the intercom on. "That thing clearly doesn't know how close it is to getting sliced up by the blades!" As she made that observation, the Tiger shot up, leaving the startled alien below and out of danger. She grinned under her helmet's mask as she increased speed, sending the attack chopper towards a series of nearby clouds. Dewitz smiled as well and sat back in his seat. There would be a time to meet these creatures, but only after careful preparation, observation, and above all cau- what?! The creature was flying right next to the cockpit as before, and clearly more agitated. Dewitz could swear that it seemed like it was quite casual in its speed of almost 120 miles per hour at this point. "It's still on us!" Jais gritted her teeth and aimed the Tiger straight for the biggest cloud, subtly decelerating in doing so. The second they entered the cloud, the Tiger ground to a halt, spun, waited ten seconds, and exited the cloud from a completely different direction. "Verdammt!" she growled as she noticed the creature still on their tail, apparently not thrown off by the helo's ability to hover in place. "It must have circled when it didn't see us exit in the right place!" "Right." Dewitz agreed, trying not to throw up all of a sudden. "At least it's fallen back some." The Tiger again ground to a halt, then angled tail-down and started flying in reverse straight toward it's pursuer. "Jais? The ROEs!" Dewitz yelled, panicked at the thought of the first meeting with apparently intelligent aliens by chopping one up in an attack chopper's rotors, not to mention destroying said chopper in the process. "It'll have to avoid us!" Jais assured him. Sure enough, the blue alien pulled up to avoid the machine hurtling towards it. Then came the shock. Both German's gazed in wide-eyed awe as the creature, not slowing down at all, looped in front the helicopter and back towards it, head on. "Fu-" Jais grunted as the helo slew to the side, itself avoiding the alien, roles reversed. "Canyon dead ahead!" Dewitz said, rather unnecessarily pointing it it physically. A massive gorge indeed filled the cockpit window, and started growing even closer as Jais angrily slammed down on the throttle. The Tiger barely missed hitting the canyon walls as Jais took it in fast and as low as possible, dodging in amongst the sudden edges and cliffs that seemed to rise up out of nowhere to dash the helo upon. Still, the blue alien followed. "Hündin!" Jais swore under her breath at the alien. "This one's tenacious!" "Er, it doesn't seem all that strained, Jais." Dewitz observed, still watching the alien's seemingly unconcerned chase. "Follow this one, Arschloch!" Jais spoke as she threw the helicopter into a half-roll, ending up flying low over the fields. What just flew by? Dewitz wondered, then it struck him. Trees! "Jais, you're pushing this way too far!" he yelled. "Look, we lost it! Oh, wait, dammit sie alle!" she said as the alien appeared at the side of the window, and waved. Rather mockingly, in fact. The next moment, it stuck its tongue out at the two, seemingly out of spite. Dewitz knew he should be mind blown at the alien utilizing such unique human facial expressions, but he was mostly angry at this point. Jais was far, far more so. "Verdammt that thing!" she cursed, and threw the helo sideways, more in an expression of frustration than an actual attempt to crash into the alien. It had already demonstrated rather convincingly that it was practically unshakable. "Stop!" Dewitz ordered. "We need to return to the Vorreiter. It beat us." "Remember what Zorner said!?" "The fuel, Jais." Jais glanced down, and the fuel was indeed in the red zone. "Verdammt." she finally said, and banked for their home-away-from-home. "Zorner, we're bingo and heading back." Dewitz said into the radio. "You didn't lose it, did you?" "Nein, Herr Kapitan." Zorner nervously adjusted the Glock jammed into his waistband as the Tiger appeared in the distance. Too little time, too little of everything. This first contact was not going to plan. Not that Around him, seven the marines and the scientists stood at attention. Guns were out and triggers fingered, but no one had their safeties off per captain's instructions. Unless the alien actually hurt one of them, they were under strict regulations not to show agressive intent. And even if the alien hurt on of them, they first had to try and stun it before switching There they were! The helo came in for a rough landing on the grass, but no one paid attention to that. No, the alien was far more more interesting. As it alighted down on the grass in front of the crowd of Germans, Zorner knew in the back of his mind that Strasser was sitting in one of the windows snapping photos on a high-quality digital camera. He also knew Strasser had an MG3 placed next to him, fully loaded. It was a quadruped, that much was certain. It was fundamental anatomy was apparently that of horse but . . . different. More rounded, shorter, barely coming up to his chest level, and the weirdest nose he'd ever seen. It was again, rounded, but . . . verdammt! What the hölle is wrong with this thing? A horse, yet not? From the looks on the faces of the men and women around him, their thought processes ended in roughly the same mental outburst. However, the oddest thing was the color of it's mane and skin. Light, sky-blue skin, and a rainbow mane. Rainbow! How did that evolve! That's nothing like proper camouflage! Then again, it could out-fly a German attack helicopter, so predators probably weren't a problem. Maybe they had a civilization? There were houses after all in the camera. Since they'd already blown their cover, they could probably, focus! Beigel had warned him that saying stuff to it wouldn't have any meaning since even if they had a language, it was statistically impossible that they should develop English or German as theirs. What mattered more, he had been told, was the tone of voice and posture that went along with his meaningless words. Calm, unafraid, friendly, were the adjectives that had been spoken. He raised his hand, nerves tingling. "We are representatives of Imperial Germany, and we come in peace, friend." The alien seemed surprised at the captain's greeting, shock manifest on its features. "Woah, who are you guys?" some idiot said, and the alien promptly flew off. Zorner whirled to his assembled command. "Who the hölle said that!?" Jais was the first to answer him, perched on the side of the landed Tiger. "Uh, sir, I think it said that . . ." "They speak English!?!" A purple alien quadruped and the blue/rainbow one from before stood inside a tree. "They speak Equestrian!?!" Author's Note Well, that's that. Now the lol's begin. Oh, and shout-out to Fimfiction user "Paddle Steamer" who commented on the last chapter with the words: "Queue helicopter vs. Rainbow Dash chase scene, and music." and the YouTube video of the song "Benny Hill Theme". You predicted what I had in mind for the Tiger/RD interactions. You predicted the music I'd listen to whilst writing that scene (and made it convenient to reach.) Let's have a digital round of applause for this fellow! Thank you SO MUCH for the support, and I'm glad y'all like it!
Encounters of a mythical kind... and manticores.Zorner strode purposefully through the halls of the Vorreiter, eyes closed, in apparent deep thought. He was thinking, yes, but there was no way in hölle he was lapsing into deep thought with his gottverlassenen crew about . . . as a matter of fact, here comes another one. "Herr Kapitan, did you-" the poor man started. "YES! I AM WELL AWARE THE WINGED HORSE SPOKE FLUENT ENGLISH!" Zorner screamed, patience entirely destroyed by the hundredth time a German had posed the question to him. He had counted. The man scurried down the hallway past him, as Zorner continued toward the main briefing room, making up his mind. ~ The "briefing room" was no larger than a primary-level schoolroom, with the exception of the wall-sized video screen. Dewitz and his Marines, Strasser, Teske, Beigel, and fourteen other G-46 toting crewmen who had prior ground experience sat in folding chairs, staring at him expectantly.He complied. "Gentlemen, we have a unique situation on hand." he said, immediately regretting his painfully obvious word choice. "To put it lightly." Dewitz observed smiling, as if to complete the stereotype. "Curse, ze Amerikaners got here first!" "Almost everyone knows English now. We can focus on how they learned it later. Let's start with the basics. I see two ways this obviously-present civilization can work out." Zorner again. Beigel cut in, nodding. "Classic. We've observed it with human castaways after the Great Collapse stranded on planets and reverting to primitive methods. They were either highly hostile, or they were docile in the extreme." Maps and pictures that the ancient Tiger had taken were displayed on the screen. Dewitz filled them in with his report. "I wouldn't venture to guess either way on military capabilities. No visible guard towers in the strange mountain-city or nearby village, but we have this disturbing photo. He clicked a button on his PDA, and one of the sections of screen zoomed in to show a blurry image of one of "The Equines", as the crew had dubbed the aliens. Clear enough, however, was the floating object in front of the creature." "Levitation?" Zorner asked. "Biological or technological, yes. I would assume the former, since I can't fathom how they go about their daily lives with hooves. They level of civilization they show would require greater dexterity than they would lead us to believe." Teske commented. "Right. And this means they could probably levitate knives and hurl them at us, right?" Zorner said, rubbing his temples. "Uh, perhaps. If they have knives." Teske replied cautiously. "They speak English. We saw them carrying freaking picnic baskets. I honestly won't be surprised if we see a verdammt version of the Statue of Liberty here!" Zorner nearly yelled. "That thing is overrated." Strasser said. "True." Zorner conceded. "So, we play first contace by ear. A proper military kommadant would court-martial for my conduct." Zorner observed sadly. "But it's all we can do. We know next to nothing, and they seemed peaceful enough fleeing from out helicopters. Sitting here for days discussing our situation won't help." "Rightly said. We're quite unmilitaristic in our bearing here, but it can't be helped in any way." Dewitz reassured him, glancing to the rest of the Germans to find nods. "Besides, if they really are peaceful, it's for the best we don't look extremely militaristic." "Hm?" "Look at us. Humans. We've fought wars since the beginning of our existence, razed cities and invented weapons they might only think in nightmares. How could we explain why we built nuclear bombs?" Dewitz looked like he was going to continue, but he stopped suddenly and nodded to Zorner. "We'd better bring a TV and our whole standard-issue "Human History" DVD collection, sir." "Noted. Load the men in the Dingos and get ready to roll out to that road we saw earlier. No helos this time." Zorner ordered, and people started to move. ~ It had been a scratch operation, but that was true with the rest of the ship they came from. Five heavily armored infantry mobility vehicles, Dingo IIICs, purred softly as men and women in Klasse IV Forest Camouflage and combat armor climbed into their vehicles. With customary German efficiency, the column quickly rolled with a full Armed Recon load of ammunition and rations. Zorner himself rode in the second vehicle with Strasser and the scientists, while Dewitz and five of his marines crammed into the lead vehicle armed to the teeth. The five other marines were manning each of the vehicles' top mounted machine guns, keeping an eye out for trouble. Before ten minutes passed, they pulled out onto a fairly nondescript dirt road, heading in the direction of the nearby village. Outside, the vista rapidly changed from lush fields to a unusually thick forest. Sunlight danced on the roofs of the vehicles, slipping lazily through the hanging vines and canopy of the forest. Zorner's radio crackled. "Great place for an ambush, sir." Dewitz observed. Had they been walking, they probably would have been struck by an acute sense of unease. As it was, the only ones to feel it were the gunners whose upper torso stuck out of the roof of the Dingos, Gripping their heavy machine guns with growing unrest, all they could do was intently peer around at the thick foliage. Had they been walking, they also would have heard the crash of a large creature in front of them. It didn't really matter in the end, as the horrific beast burst out of the underbrush about two hundred feet in front of them. "Scheiße! Alle raus!" Zorner and Dewitz screamed into their radios simultaneously, and the drivers hurriedly pulled their vehicles over, passengers piling out before they even pulled to a stop. "Everyone out!" someone repeated in English. "Delta and Bravo, cover the flanks! Echo, rear! Jauer, Muhr, go!" The comforting sound of Dewitz yelling militaristic orders ringed in Zorner's earpiece as he swiveled his personal H&K MP7 at the forest to his immediate left, dropping to his knee to stabilize his weapon. Within seconds, the entire column was in position for repelling an ambush. Zorner couldn't resist turning his head to look at the proceedings up ahead. That creature . . . "Herr Oberst! That is a manticore, sir! A mythical beast from the earliest of history from Old Earth! one of the crewmen yelled over the radio, probably some kind of mythology or history buff. The thing was terrible. The body of a lion, the tail of a scorpion, and wings!?! The startling fact that such familiar creatures apparently existed here was forgotten in the other fact that it looked rather angry. "Jais! Get the Panzerfaust-4 out!" Dewitz ordered. Zorner started to protest, before: "Backup only! Jauer, Muhr, you know what to do!" The two mentioned Marines stood stolidly a dozen feet from the lead vehicle, drawing the attention of the great beast. Krieg Feldwebels Arnulf Jauer and Ursel Muhr were both New Afrika Korps Schließen Assult veterans from Southern Kulmar, and both probably thought the creature little below the boots of the American Urban Teams that had taught them how brutal war really could be. In short, neither was visibly perturbed by the "manticore". Jauer expertly aimed his Latin Arms Co. Immoderatum V Tazer Shotgun at the beast. It began to advance at the pair, unconcerned by their weapons. It was soon disabused of the notion. "Afrika Korps!" he screamed, echoing the rallying cry of his famous desert force in its most brutal days. "AFRIKA KORPS! HOORAH!" the entire squad echoed, and Jauer pulled the trigger. Twelve seperate conducive pins pierced the manticore's skin, and delivered a shock capable of downing an elephant (it's actual purpose, coincidentally). The beast simply went limp in mid-stride, coming down nearly at the feet of Muhr. She moved with practiced efficiency, stabbing what appeared to be an oversized combat knife into it's thigh, ducking under the twitch-like swing of it's wing as she did so. Job done, she drew her service H&K P18 pistol, and backed away from the spasms of the manticore. The concentrated tranquilizer took nearly immediate effect. Within seconds, the manticore lay in an unconscious heap. Zorner stood up and wiped his brow, shaking slightly at the release of nervous energy. He'd never really needed to worry. Rumor was the pair had volunteered to help collection services round up crazed, hostile elephants in the aftermath of the Silj Gas Attacks on Kulmar. They certainly were very skilled at what they just did, in addition to their normal job of killing the enemies of the Kaiser ruthlessly and efficiently. Enough of that. He raised his hand to his ear. "Excellent work, you two. Non-lethal takedowns are our mode of operation at last resort, good example." To the rest: "The tranq should last for a few hours. Echo, send for assistance from the Vorreiter and guard the beast. Tranq it again if necessary. Everyone else, move out!" The Germans did not notice the yellow equine slip away in a state of shock at the scene. ~ Celestia would explain their presence in time, Fluttershy was sure. In fact, the Princess was about to arrive in Ponyville with a sizable contingent of the Royal Guard, along with Shining Armor and Cadance. No doubt Twi would be happy at that . . . . . . and happier still to talk to these bipeds, to learn from them. They spoke Equestrian, after all. Taking that further, Rarity would be positively delighted to inspect their clothing and garments. And Rainbow Dash vocally wanted to see the pilot of the great Blade-Beast. Applejack would want to learn about their food. And she . . . she'd like to know how they calmed that poor angry manticore so easily. If they were OK with that, of course.
Nightmare"Hell, I forget what I had for breakfast these days - but I never, never forgot the war." - unidentified veteran of the War of the Two Superpowers As the convoy unknowingly drove ever closer to a rather whimsical town, Krieg Feldwebel Arnulf Jauer slid back in his seat, the adrenalin high from taking down the "Manticore" having worn off, replaced by exhaustion. Luckily, he, like many veterans of urban warfare on Kulmar, was highly adept at sleeping in uncomfortable, dangerous, and downright miserable conditions. The erratically-bouncing Dingo barely qualified as the first, seeing as it was dry and there weren't artillery shells slamming into the ground around him. A definite improvement over his previous posting. He slid into unconsciousness . . . ~ The air stank. That fact was lost in the revelation that there was a distinct smell at all here. The Princess of the Night, co-ruler of Equestria, fittingly referred to as Luna, took in the surroundings of the dream she had entered. It was odd that a pony be sleeping at around mid-day, and odder still that they be dreaming - and that the dream contained so much pain. Pain. Her subjects suffered from anxiety, doubting, fear, rejection - not readily apparent from the surface of Equestrian society that most visitors saw on their official tours through Canterlot, but present nonetheless. This dream, however . . . pain really didn't begin to describe it. Sorrow, loss, fear, uncertainty, rage, Luna shook her head violently at the wave of emotions cascading around her. If one of her little ponies was in this much trouble, it was her solemn responsibility to do everything she could to help. She paused as another emotion clawed its way through the filth. Duty. How could she not have noticed it? In every layer of this dream, there was an impressively strong undercurrent of duty to some unseen cause in this pony's mind. Not quite youthful enthusiasm, much like the type she saw in the dreams of new Royal Guard - no, it was everywhere yet somewhat faint. Something more immediate was on . . . his, yes, his mind. She feared it had something to do with the incessant rumbling in the background. Yes, and the only way to find out more was to descend into the dream itself, and see what's what, as they said nowadays. ~ As she spiraled downward, the heavy clouds parted to reveal a truly massive city below her. She paused at the sight, then continued, uncertainty gnawing at the back of mind. No city in all of Equestria, and all its surrounding lands for that matter, even resembled this. The buildings themselves were not much larger than, say, Ponyville's houses, but there were so many of them! And then she took it in fully. Great clouds of pitch-black smoke hurled themselves into the sky from massive fires, bright flashes dotted below, and most disturbingly of all - the city itself was destroyed. Never had she seen such destruction. Half the buildings were complete wrecks, mere piles of rubble, and the other half were hardly better. They stood, but it was obvious they had gone through extreme forces to get to their current sorry states. It was becoming evident this was not Equestria as she knew it. Even as she continued towards the ground, and hopefully the poor creature, knowledge flooded her head as she began to take in the situation fully from the memories of the person. Person? This was not a pony. Bipeds. She neared the ground, strange crackling and popping sounding from all over. There she saw them, scurrying forward, unaware of her presence. The level of detail in this dream was incredible, she noted, and there was no doubt that this was in fact a memory in itself. She put two and two together in an instant. This was the dream of one of the alien creatures that her sister had left to meet in Ponyville! The ones she had felt approach Equestria! With mounting resolve, she dove into the thick of whatever was happening down there, to the source of the dream himself. Or, rather, many nearly-identical looking bipeds, dressed in some sort of ugly camouflage and identity-concealing helmets, and carrying a baffling assortment of black objects, brandishing them like weapons. A nearby explosion made her flinch, but also knocked the helmet off one of the creatures. There. The dreamer. Her elation was interrupted by a wet distinct wet thud, and she turned to the source of the noise only to see one of the bipeds slump back. To her horror, a bright red puddle began spreading from the chest of the unmoving creature. Blood. Luna backpedaled, physically and mentally. Were these the creatures that were almost upon her sister and the Elements? The dreamer screamed something, and another biped scrambled over, carrying a case and hurriedly pulling out what she could only assume to be medical supplies. It dawned on her that the dreamer's apparently intense concentration at the event was muffling the noise, as the constant flinching and tensing of the bipeds evidenced more than she was getting led onto. Another, more massive explosion, this time practically on top of the group of huddling bipeds, sending the dreamer hurtling into a wall. Concentration shattered by the concussion, the full roar of the surrounding world smashed into Luna's hearing like a solid wall, sending her reeling at the sudden onslaught of noise. Explosions near and far, incessant popping and rippling the dream told her was gunfire, the growl of great machines - now she saw in the dreamer's concentration, the memory had barely shown anything of what had really been happening. Metal beasts roared overhead, their blades slicing through the air at blurring speeds, hurling burning lances at a point beyond her distance, and on a road nearby she saw massive, grey boxes speeding down the cracked surface, belching smoke and fire from a tube affixed to it. Around her, the screams and cries of the bipeds flowed and ebbed. Many fell, torn apart before her eyes by unseen forces, while others went down in pools of their own blood, keeping their dignity in their silence as the apparent doctors worked frantically to keep them alive. The ones still on their feet pointed their metal tubes in front of them, as the tips flashed and roared. Guns, the memories told her, and similarly armed bipeds were the source of all the death and horror around her. They were killing each other, this species. Yet none faltered, encouraged by the presence of their comrades. It would have been impressive, but the presumed end result of all this was too horrible to contemplate. Lost in the panorama of killing before her, she stepped directly into the dreamer's view, who was currently kneeling over the bloody figure of a fellow biped, evidently the source of anguish and reason why this particular dream was so vivid. Then again, it was hard to fathom any creature letting the details of an experience like this blurring out and becoming abstract, like many of her subject's dreams. The biped chose that moment to look up, tears staining his face. His eyes narrowed in confusion at the sight of the majestic blue pony standing casually in the crossfire between the two forces, then widened in recognition- -and at that moment, Luna returned to her chambers in the Canterlot Palace. There, the images of the dream fresh in her mind and readily processed in full, she walked numbly to her bed, and collapsed into sleep of her own. ~ Jauer sat up with a start, his hand instinctively brushing the rifle at his side before he relaxed, remembering the comparatively peaceful, yet alien, land they were in. Nothing like a horrible nightmare to put things into perspective, he thought. DeWitz twisted around in the forward passenger's seat, handing the now fully-alert Marine a moist toilette. "Clean yourself up, we're almost at the town." the Oberst said, before turning back to his partially-disassembled G-63. "Right." Jauer acknowledged, before jumping up and smacking his head on the ceiling, eyes wide. "What?" DeWitz asked, speaking for the rest of the lead Dingo's passengers. "My dream!" the soldier almost yelled. "What about it? We all get those." his commander responded, eyebrow raised. "There was an equine in it, Sir." "What?" "And when I saw it, it disappeared." Any other place, and DeWitz would have dismissed the report. This was no ordinary place. Author's Note Welcome to war, Luna.
Welcome to Ponyville, Kapitan."Well, they didn't kill us." - Kapitan Arnhem Zorner "Sir, ETA five minutes to the, er, village, we have on our maps." The Kapitan grunted as he put away his data-pad, and popped open a mirror to start looking over his grey over dark blue Kaiserliche Marine uniform. Utilitarian and rather out-of place, but hopefully easy to distinguish from the rest of the Germans, with their green Klasse IV Forest Camouflage. The last thing he wanted was an alien leader to approach a taller or bigger comrade of his, thinking the strongest was the one in charge of the humans. He spared a last glance at the data-pad, trying to recall the various facets of Greek Mythology that he had frantically pulled up after their encounter with the "manticore". And the pegasus, as the texts told him was the blue equine. A horribly deformed one, according to the "traditional" pictures, but unmistakably a pegasus. Teske and Biegel were insistent that he play the leader role - as long as they didn't slaughter everyone with some ungodly alien weapon first. They crested a hill, and the crewman driving the Dingo suddenly jolted upright, and pointed out the window. Fearing another monster, Zorner reached for his pistol as he followed the outstretched finger's aim to whatever lay ahead. A second of comprehension later, he hurriedly holstered his weapon and instead grabbed at his radio. "All units! Stop and pull over, alternate sides, dismount!" he ordered, and jumped out of the vehicle the second it lurched to a halt at the side of the road. All eyes gazed at the pink bubble before them. Down the road, about five-hundred feet away, was the village, clearly visible despite the semi-translucent, well, shield, improbably covering the entire town in a huge sphere. Of more consequence were the group of Equines that stood just in front of the shield, on the road they were travelling on. "Looks like a leader, Herr Kapitan." DeWitz observed through his binoculars. "Big white one there, looks like it's taller than us. Call it a half a meter or so." "Numbers?" "Eh, looks like nine of the normal ones besides the leader. I think three of them have armor, sir." "Armor? Elaborate." Zorner ordered with a hint of worry in his voice. Crewmen around him nervously shifted their weapons about. "Perhaps I wasn't clear enough. Zorner, that's honest-to-Gott plate armor they're wearing." DeWitz said, shaking his head in disbelief at his own words. "Plate armor . . ." "Got it. Alright, Marinesoldaten, DeWitz, on me. Everyone else, stay with the vehicles." Zorner commanded, starting forward before his mind had a chance to protest the move. "Oh," he said, snapping to a halt and whirling around to face Strasser, who had remained at the side of his Dingo. ",record this so I can get a Ritterkreuz out of this." Strasser reached into the vehicle and activated the dash-mounted video camera, before stepping back and muttering something about "that's not how that award works". Zorner continued down the slightly loose slope, repeating the Fatherland's Creed over and over in his head. In wearing this Cross, I accept the responisiblity of service to the Fatherland and fealty to its people. Duty will sustain me, and duty will guide me wherever my service takes me. I am the sword and the shield of Germany and I thus swear to uphold it's sacred history and take whatever action is necessary to do so. I belong, body and soul to my country, and nothing, nothing can relieve me of that duty save death. Zorner glanced over to his Marine Oberst, and they locked eyes. Body and soul, till death. For the Fatherland., DeWitz mouthed, gripping his Iron Cross tightly with one hand. ~ "You may want to get a little ahead of your companions, Herr Kapitan." Strasser noted in the radio as they neared the group of aliens. "So if they're hostile, they only kill me - got it." Zorner replied dryly, but nevertheless complying with the tip. "Front." DeWitz whispered to his Kapitan, succeeding in snapping his gaze back on target. This was it. He, Arnhem Zorner, was going to be the first human to meet another form of sentient life in the universe. Gott, what a mixed blessing if there ever was one. Why him? He tried to snap out of it, the last few meters from what he figured was a polite distance, but gave in to his thoughts one last time before, as he would imagined, he would be very dead or very busy. He wasn't trained for this. Growing up in the trade routes had given him some rudimentary experience with space travel. The Frankfurt Space Academy had drilled he and his fellow cadets ruthlessly in the art of vacuum combat - and it was exactly that, an art. How to deal with hull breaches, knowing your engines inside and out, having every possible contingency and possible disaster ready to meet a swift response. In short, he was trained to utilise an extremely complicated machine in the most lethal environment known to man to kill others. Sure, they had passed out the handbooks and the ROE's had the "extra terrestrially sentience" section, but no one took those seriously, least of all him. No, when he had a spare moment he was reading up on some new American tactic or better ways of keeping his crew's morale up - not something that basically reiterated "don't kill them on first sight and good luck". Still . . . Zorner barely suppressed a smile as the sheer enormity of the situation finally occurred to him. Taking a deep breath - possibly his last - he stepped up to the white Equine as he reviewed his prepared speech one last time . . . Crap. How did it begin again? He could only stare helplessly at the alien before him as painfully awkward seconds ticked by. He couldn't help but notice the stern-looking Equines, presumably guards, who stood rigidly in their gleaming armor, spears somehow gripped in their hooves. Finally, it seemed the alien could take it no longer. "Do you speak Equestrian?" a distinctively female voice inquired, to his surprise, from one of the the other, shorter Equines standing behind their leader, who had walked out a little ways. Purple. A technicolor array of aliens stood before him, but purple. Some odd take on a unicorn, according to his mythology texts, if that horn was anything to tell. Which was much to short for the thing to conceivably employ it in stabbing things, as mythological (and biblical) unicorns were often portrayed doing. That either meant it was for some other purpose. was decorational, or that they had developed some less crude way of killing. Oh yeah, she did speak. And thus, he started the first conversation in humanity's history with another sentient race . . . "We don't call it that, but I can understand you.." he replied, his voice flat and conveying far less emotion than he felt. The purple one's face split into an impossibly wide grin, as he became aware she was visibly bouncing a little in sheer excitement, already large-eyes seeming to take every feature of his self in. He waited for the leader to reprimand the purple one, or at least take some control, but all it had was a ghost of a smile. "I have so many questions!" the purple one suddenly exclaimed, then sat back on her haunches, as if to ponder what to open with. Zorner responded with a smile, and turned back to DeWitz and company, giving a curt nod that spoke volumes of "They haven't killed me! (yet)". "I know! Where are from? No, who are you? What's your name? What do you do? What are you wearing? Why are you here? I . . . I . . ." Another voice cut in, and Zorner recognized a very-amused DeWitz, walking up. "Hamburg, Germany, human, Josef Dewitz, Marinesoldaten, Klasse IV Forest Pattern camouflage and Mark III Light Armor, and I'm just following this guy." he said in one breath, pointing at Zorner at the last answer. If the unicorn showed any surprise, she did a remarkable job of hiding it. Instead, she stuck out a ~~hand~~ hoof to the two humans. "Well, hello Mr. DeWitz. I'm Twilight Sparkle." The Oberst knelt down to shake her hoof, and Zorner turned his gaze to the bemused leader. "I am Korvetten Kapitan Arnhem Zorner of the Kaiserliche Marine. In the name of the Kaiser and the Fourth Reich, I extend an olive branch of peace and friendshi- by the way, I didn't write this." he finished, a look of embarrassment breaking through his artificially stern demeanor. The Equine stifled a laugh. "And I am Princess Celestia. Well met, 'human'." She had a much more . . . mature, voice, that was sure. "Likewise. On the behalf of my country, Imperial Germany, I hope that you are as eager to learn about us as we are to you." Celestia glanced at the eager Twilight, and chuckled. "Oh yes, you could say that." "So, will we just . . ." "Care to discuss this inside?" she asked, tilting her head towards the shield. Zorner took a visible breath, and nodded. "Of course." DeWitz reached for his radio, and handed it to Zorner. "Mien Kapitan." To the soldier: "Thanks." To the radio: "We're alive, and talking. Contact is a success, as far as I'm concerned." Twilight looked at the device oddly, and opened her mouth before Celestia quieted her with a glance. She looked rather down, until her leader reassured her with a gentle smile and nod to the human. "I'm sure you have plenty of questions." Zorner observed. The purple unicorn bobbed her head up and down frantically. "Well, we have plenty of time." Author's Note Hey look, a wild chapter. I feel a little uneasy about his one, since it feels to me as rushed as it is, but I digress. Also, I think I'll be splitting up the perspectives a bit. Shining Armor talks to DeWitz about military, Twilight and Zorner on history, etc. One thing I can assure of: there will be no "sudden threats" that will end casual time and force the humans to unload some good 'ol dakka on whomever tries to interrupt their meeting with the ponies. Also x2: 200 likes! <3 Also x3: Outlooks will be updated. SOON. Also x4: I adore your comments, guys. Trust me, I read every one of them. Also x5: I really need an editor some time . . . Also x6 New story in the works. And remember, it's never as bad as it seems.
