Vode An

For most of the residents of the town of Ponyville, sunrise was the time to awaken, to start the day fresh and new, with a joyful smile on their faces and a song in their hearts. As sunlight filters through the windows of their homes, they would rise to greet the ball of fire that provided light for all the world. They would go about their morning routines before heading off to wherever they worked. Even those who rose before the sun welcome its presence, knowing that the glorious day is still ahead of them.

For the town’s resident alicorn princess, however, the sun this morning is just another reminder that she has spent the previous night studying until she passed out.

The sun’s rays filter through the large rectangular window on the far side of the library. The long hall is filled wall to wall with wooden shelves, which in turn has books crammed into every available space. The shelves sag and groan under the weight of the hefty tomes, many seem to be ready to crack in two. Running the length of the walls of the library is a wide balcony, both sides stopping just short of the window, with a set of staircases near the entrance at the opposite end of the library. Carved into the walls where the balcony floor reaches are numerous shelves that, while studier than their wooden cousins, are no less stuffed with books. If one was to look close at the walls and floor of the library, they would notice that they are made of a light purple crystal that sparkle when light hits it.

Upon the balcony, resting above the massive elaborately carved main entrance doors is a large, circular table, also made of the purple crystal. Laying upon said table are scattered various pieces of parchment, so much so they blanket the table like an improvised table cloth. Several books lay strewn about the surface, and a tall stack of them rest beside the table’s most notable feature; her flank planted in a wooden chair, her head down upon the table, fast asleep, is the alicorn princess, Twilight Sparkle.

Her indigo mane and tail are a disheveled mess, with her bangs plastered to her face from spending the previous night in a book, quite literally. A thin line of drool runs from the corner of her mouth and onto the pages of the tome she lay atop of, smearing a short sentence. While the sun would normally shine off her brushed and polished coat, today her pelt is scruffy and greasy, shining not from meticulous brushing, but from sweat. The feathers of her wings are ruffled, the wings themselves twitching every once in a while as the alicorn dreams.

The light of the sun soon hits her face, making Twilight reveal her amethyst eyes to the world. Using the forehoof that wasn’t asleep, the alicorn rubs the dried crust off her eyelids as she assesses her surroundings.

Ugh, just what was I doing last night, she grumbles to herself inside the aching confines of her own skull, trying her best to clear the drowsiness out of her mind.

           Twilight closes the book that had, unintentionally, became her pillow the night before, taking a close look at the title and cover art of the tome. And From the Heavens They Came: The Possibility of Extraequstrial Life the title reads, penned into existence by three authors: Night Gazer, Garrett Muldarus, and Remnar Gal-Tok. The cover features a round metal disc plummeting from the night sky like a fiery commit, a popular image of what many suspect, and even claim, alien spaceships to look like.

Igniting her horn, surrounding both it and the book with a purple miasma, she sets it aside and begins to gather up the scattered pieces of parchment, looking carefully at each one in order to organize them. Many of them are her own notes, written in purple ink as to distinguish them from everything else; these get their own stack. From there, she carefully organizes everything else into classified stacks: discussant and response papers within their own separate stacks, books placed with the book she slept on, and even a few star charts that managed to get mixed in with the papers got a stack all to themselves. While organizing, one paper catches her attention, at the same time jogging her memory of the previous night: Gazing at the Sky, the Sky Gazing Back, by Prof. Hondas Karro.

That’s right, the alicorn reminds herself, I was researching the prospect of alien life. But why one of Spike’s comic books prompted me to do so is beyond me.

           Even if Twilight was skeptical of the possibility of space aliens, the comic book had her intrigued. While she only bothered to read the first few pages and skimmed the rest, she was able to garner that the story was about an advanced civilization from space making contact with Equestria, changing the world and all the races upon it for the better. While most stories of space aliens were so ridiculous as to be nothing more than fiction, this one though was real enough that it sparked her interest.

            The rest of the night was a blur to the alicorn, just barely remembering herself scouring her library for every book and paper on the subject. She didn’t even remember taking notes, but she did it so often that the action was practically subconscious to her.

           Her ears perk up as one of the large doors below her creaks open slightly, and the tack, tack, tack sound of claws on the crystal floor echoes throughout the library.

           “Twilight,” a young stallion’s voice calls out, amplified twice over by the spacious library, “you in here? I made you breakfast!”

          Twilight allows herself a small smile at the prospect of enjoying breakfast with who she lovingly refers to, even after all these years, as her number one assistant.

“Up on the balcony, Spike,” she called down to the main floor.

No sooner does the alicorn call to whom she dubbed “Spike” than a creature ascends the stairs. It’s reptilian in nature, almost looking like a giant lizard that had decided to stand on two legs instead of four. It’s tall and lanky, a full two heads taller than Twilight. Its body is covered in violet scales, a shade darker than Twilight’s fur. Its underbelly, running from its lower jaw to the end of its tail, is a light green color. A crest of rounded lime-green spines runs from the top of its head down to the tip of its tail, the tail itself ending in an arrowhead-like spike. A pair of green fins jutted out the side of its head, possibly covering its ears. Its large round eyes could almost be mistaken for emeralds, with thin black slits for pupils.

This lizard, this dragon as many would call it, would look quite threatening, if not for the frilly pink apron it wore. In its clawed hands, it carries a silver tray with two large stacks of pancakes, a gravy boat full of syrup, two plates, and utensils for two balancing atop it.

Upon seeing the disheveled alicorn, the dragon’s face becomes a mix of concern and annoyance. “Twilight, don’t tell me you stayed up all night again. You promised you’d stop doing this.”

Twilight’s cheeks turn a bright red as she chuckles nervously. “Sorry, Spike, I guess I studied so hard I lost track of time, again.”

The dragon, dubbed Spike, pulls up another nearby chair and sits down near her, placing the tray of food between them. Igniting her horn, the alicorn grabs a plate along with a fork and knife, spearing a pancake with her fork and unceremoniously dropping on her plate as she sets it down in front of her.

“So,” Spike asks as he grabs himself some food as well, “what were you studying this time?”

Twilight pours a few thin lines of syrup on her pancakes before answering him. “Well, after taking a look at that comic book that was sitting on your bed last night, I was inspired to look up theories concerning extraequestrial life. I’ve turned up some pretty fascinating ones, suggesting everything from only microbial life existing on other planets, to space faring alien civilizations that have already visited Equestria, mostly in the ancient past.”

“It’s not a comic book, it’s a graphic novel,” the teenage dragon replies, slightly annoyed, “and yeah, it is a pretty interesting topic. We can’t be alone in the universe, even you’ve got admit that.”

The alicorn smiles, taking another bite of her breakfast. “It is a fascinating possibility, otherwise, why would we be so intrigued with the idea of aliens? Although it’s mostly just theories as of now, and Princess Luna won’t tell me anything about what she knows of the cosmos.”.

Spike’s eyes light up with surprise and confusion. “She won’t, why not? You’re one of her closest friends, surely she’d be able to trust you with anything she knows about space?”

Twilight merely shakes her head. “It was the strangest thing. Normally Luna can talk to me about anything, and will usually answer any question I have. But, when I sent her a message last night asking for any information regarding extraequestrial life, I got a reply from Captain Alucard who just said, and I quote, that ‘Princess Luna does not wish to divulge any information on the subject and requests that you do not ask again. Goodnight, Ms. Sparkle’.”

“Alucard never did like you,” Spike replies wryly, chuckling slightly at Twilight’s impression of the Night Guard Captain, including his strange accent that tended to turn his ‘s’ and ‘th’ into a ‘z’ and his ‘w’ into a ‘v’.

The alicorn sighs as she finishes off her second pancake. “Well, I’m sure it’s nothing. Spike, see if you can get me a train to Canterlot later on today, I want to have a chat with Luna face-to-face.”

“On it,” the dragon replies through a mouthful of pancake.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Twilight scolds.

A blush and an embarrassed smile comes to Spike’s face as he swallows the food in his maw in one big gulp. “Don’t stay up to some ungodly hour researching whims.”

No sooner than the purple drake finishes his meal than a massive BOOM shakes the entirety of the library. It rattles the books on their shelves and threatened to knock the tray of pancakes to the floor had Spike not grabbed it before it fell.

Twilight’s face gains a grimace as she voices her displeasure at the sonic blast. “Ugh, Rainbow Dash! Do you have to practice this early in the morning?! Honestly, that mare has no respect for anypony’s peace and quiet.”

“Uh, Twilight,” Spike responds, pointing a claw out the library’s massive viewing window, “I don’t think that was Rainbow.”

Twilight follows the dragon’s claw to view a most peculiar sight, as the sound barrier had been broken, yet the prismatic pegasus was clearly not to blame. Instead of a rainbow ring and contrail, it was merely a streak of white smoke, headed by a silver dot. The dot curves suddenly in a way that should be impossible, letting the alicorn see it more clearly for a few seconds. It was some kind of metal flying machine, shaped like a box with triangular wings jutting out of its side.

That is all Twilight is able to make of it before it zooms past the castle, roaring like a dragon and twice as loud. The alicorn’s jaw all but drops to the floor as she watches the object zoom by, knowing all too well that what she is seeing should be impossible. Not even the swiftest pegasi, including Rainbow Dash, could fly that fast, nor could any winged creature make aerial turns that sharp.

But this wasn’t a creature, it’s a machine; a flying machine that can soar faster than anything on the planet. Her first thought would be that this is a new flying machine that was probably developed by the Equestrian Aeronautics Corps, since only they would be crazy enough to build something like this. But there is a problem: even if the Corps could have built something like this, it’s far too fast for something that appears to have armor plating, not to mention that the roaring indicates some kind of jet propulsion engines, something that has been nothing more than theory up to now.

She had to get a closer look at this.

“Spike, grab my observation kit and meet me outside,” she orders her assistant, “We’re getting to the bottom of this.”

The purple dragon salutes and runs off, leaving Twilight alone in the massive library. She takes another look out the window, gazing upon the still barely visible ring of white smoke left behind by the craft. Turning her amethyst orbs back to the table, Twilight’s eyes fell once again upon the familiar midnight blue book, And From the Heavens They Came, the disk craft shimmering as the light hit the metallic paint on the canvas cover. The gears in the alicorn’s head begin to turn, as she draws similarities between the image and the craft.

Don’t be silly, Twilight, she scolds herself within the confines of her mind, there has to be a logical explanation on this. There’s only a point zero six percent chance this is alien related.

She tries to turn away from the table, but finds she just can’t walk away. She levitates the book towards her, both her horn and the book enveloped in a lavender glow.

However, I can’t completely rule it out. As Detective Holmes once said, ‘When you’ve eliminated every other possibility, whatever remains must be the truth’.

Taking the book under her wing, Twilight races after Spike, knowing that she’s on to something big.

******************************************************************************************************************

Today is not a good day to get out of bed, according to Rarity. She had spent the past week working on a massive project for Sapphire Shoals. While Rarity was more than happy to help out her number one client, the pop star had something a little extra in mind than her usual commissions. Shoals wanted something, as she put it, “classical, stylish, and something with plenty of pizazz; with frills, bodices, and jewels.” Not only was her commission a bit more difficult than usual, but she wanted two outfits for each of her five backup dancers and three for herself.

She pulled several all-nighters and when she finally came home from Canterlot the night before, even though the sun had not yet kissed the horizon, she flopped into bed, not even bothering to take her makeup off.

She had planned to stay most of the day in the soft comfort of her sheets, but it was that time of the week again, when the “Empty Feeling”, as both Rarity and her therapist have come to call it, rears its ugly head once again in an attempt to pull her back into depression. The unicorn could practically hear its carrion voice beckon her.

You know what time of the year it is, don’t you? Its voice echoes forth from the back of Rarity’s mind.

Go away, Rarity angrily bites back, trying in vain to drown out the Empty Feeling by shoving her ear in a pillow, only for it to return a moment later.

It was your fault she disappeared. It cackles maliciously, making chills run up the unicorn’s spine. You should have watched her more carefully. Her skeleton could be lying in some dark hole and you’ll never know. It is your fault, Sweetie Belle is gone because of you.

I said go away! Rarity’s anger reaches a boiling point, to where she almost screams her demand out loud.

Unable to return to her slumber, the unicorn begrudgingly slumps out of bed to be greeted by the mirror mounted on the vanity on the opposite wall. It displays a snow white unicorn mare, her coat normally sheened to perfection now slick with sweat and a tad bit unkempt. Her violet mane and tail are distressed for sure, but still keeps a bit of their normal coif, with just a few hairs out of place. Her black mascara has long since dripped down her face like tears of ink and her pale blue eye shadow has smeared around her eyes, making her appearance practically the mirror image of a sad clown.

My, aren’t I a ‘hot mess’, as Sapphire would say, the unicorn muses to herself, a small smile coming to her dry lips.

She hops off her canopied bed, quickly pulling the crimson sheets back into their proper place, a habit she developed as a filly. Rarity sleepily trots out her door and into the bathroom across the hall, making sure to lock the door behind her, even though she is the only one in the house at the moment. The ovular wall mirror set above the round white porcelain sink only confirms the monster that greeted Rarity in the bedroom was, in fact, herself. Reaching a forehoof up to the side of the mirror, she pulls it outward, revealing a cabinet set into the wall. A turquoise glow envelops her horn, a bottle of makeup remover, and a jar of cotton balls, bringing them down from the top shelf of the cabinet to the sink’s counter. She carefully removes the smeared makeup, washing her face with warm water and a soft, alabaster white washcloth afterwards. She also downs pills from a few different bottles before closing the mirror once more, the feeling of despair leaving her as the medicine takes effect.

The face of a cleaner, happier Rarity greets the unicorn in the mirror, making her beam.

Much better, she muses, her eyes catching the porcelain bathtub standing on its brass legs at the far end of the bathroom, although, a little soak wouldn’t hurt either. Just because I’m not planning on going anywhere today doesn’t mean a lady shouldn’t look her best.

Turning to the bathtub, her magical aura grips the chrome-plated handles of the facet, making the water a bit steamy, but not too hot, before climbing in herself. She allows the tub to fill up around her before turning the water off. The unicorn takes a short moment to light the incense burner with a quick spell, the ends of the two rods glowing like hot coals. Early morning sunlight filters in through the fogged glass window, illuminating the pale blue walls, almost making them glow like the sky itself. The smell of sandalwood soon permeates the bathroom, and the sound of running water from the small fountain in the corner by door echoes off the linoleum tiles. Rarity lays back, nearly floating in the water, resting the back of her head on the rim of the tub. She closes her turquoise eyes, letting the stress of the week and all the thoughts of Sweetie put into her head by the Empty Feeling flow down a river of serenity.

Unfortunately, that lasts only a good thirty seconds before the sound of an explosion brings her back to reality, violently shaking the tub and splashing water all over the floor. The startled mare quickly sits up, her heart pounding in her chest. However, after processing the situation for a moment and noticing the puddles of water arrayed around the tub, she knows who to blame for this.

“Oh for Celestia’s sake, Rainbow,” Rarity practically screeches, “must you practice your stunts this early in the morning?! You’ve just ruined my bath!”

Her hoof still dripping with water, she reaches over to window, unlatching it and pushing it outwards, revealing the cloudless blue sky as the sun lit it to its proper colors. A light breeze blows through, slightly disturbing the lace curtains.

The livid unicorn turns her attention towards the sky, knowing that even if she didn’t see the pegasus, she’d spot the prismatic ring left by the sonic rainboom.

“I swear,” Rarity grumbles angrily, “when I get my hooves on that mare, I’m going to-.”

Much to the pearl pony’s surprise, the ring in the sky is not a rainbow; it is nothing more than a white ring of smoke, a trail of it leading away. Rarity’s detail oriented eyes, a habit formed from years of seamstress work, spot the white trail being headed by a flying machine shaped like a silver box. Triangular shapes jut out from the sides and top of the craft, and glowing cones grow from its backside, the cones belching fire like some monster. It roars like an angry beast, a shriek that can be heard echoing off nearby Mt. Gaia where Canterlot rests.

What felt like a mere moment after the unicorn had spotted the craft, it makes a sharp turn and zooms over Twilight’s palace on the northern edge town, quickly disappearing from sight.

Rarity had experienced some pretty vivid hallucinations before, so her first thought is to write it off as just that. But it’s quickly quashed by the sight of other ponies around town stopping in their tracks and turning their heads towards the sky, looks of shock and terror on their faces. Even if what the unicorn had seen was true, how could it be possible? Most modern airships couldn’t even hope to reach half the speed that thing was traveling at. While she’s no genius, it wouldn’t take one to figure out that none of the known civilized nations had the technology to pull off something like that. This is something new, something different, and something, dare she say it, alien.

One of the ponies running down below is very familiar to the pearl pony; a lavender alicorn mare with a straight indigo mane and tail, a pair of saddlebags slung across her flanks. Beside her runs a tall, lanky purple and green lizard, hauling a rather large telescope under one arm and a tripod under the other. They run in the direction the flying machine flew off, seeming to be chasing after it.

Of course, Rarity realizes rather easily, if there’s anypony in this town that will know what that thing is, it’s Twilight Sparkle.

Levitating a towel over to herself, the unicorn hops out of the tub and onto the bathmat, remembering to pull the plug so the tub can drain. After hastily drying off, she tosses the towel into a wicker basket in the corner. She races down the stairs and out the door of Carousel Boutique, running after the alicorn and her dragon companion.

******************************************************************************************************************

WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.

The rhythmic sound of pony hooves striking wood echoes throughout the Apple Family orchards. It does well to remind the world that, while having been quieter the past eight years, Sweet Apple Acres is still alive and kicking, quite literally.

Tall, thick trees stretch as far as the eye can see, each overflowing with ripe, red, juicy looking apples. The trees stand arranged in orderly rows and columns, giving the appearance of being purposefully planted there. The landscape is a sea of rolling hills, the occasional wooden fence separating parts of the orchard. Looking through the trees, one can see a large red barn, images of apples painted and carved into it. In the other direction lay a wall of twisted, gnarled trees, vines, and bushes, a feeling of dread emanating from its very presence.

Deep within the orchard, one can spot one of the various trees shaking violently, the rhythmic WHACK sound even louder than before. Below the canopy of branches stands a short, but well built, earth pony mare, balancing on her forehooves while her hind legs strike the trunk of the tree she stands under. What little early morning sunlight there is filters through the leaves and onto her scruffy tangerine fur. Her long blond mane and tail fly about with each buck to the tree, held together by a pair of cherry red mane bands. Atop her head sits a brown felt Stetson; tattered, torn in a few places, but still seemingly well kept.

With each strike to the tree’s thick trunk, a few more bright red apples fall into a series of wooden buckets arranged around the tree. Though the day has barely begun, the earth pony has been up well before the sun, as evidenced by the nearly two dozen buckets of apples sitting on a nearby cart. The sturdy mare stops to wipe her brow, leaning against the tree she had been bucking. By chance, her eyes happen upon one of the buckets, the bright red of the apples making her reminisce. Images of a little mustard yellow filly, her yarn-like mane and tail as red as those apples. She could almost see the filly balancing the bucket atop her head, carrying it over to the cart, before coming back for another.

One day, Ah’ll be as strong as you, sis, a filly’s voice rings through the mare’s head, almost bringing a tear to her eye, then, we’ll be able ta’ buck twice as many apples.

“Darn-tootin’,” the mare quietly whispers to herself.

“Uh, Applejack,” a deep, yet soft-spoken voice sounds from behind her, “ya’ll know we have more work ta’ do, right?”

The tangerine mare, dubbed Applejack, whips around to come face to chest with a large, tomato red stallion. While Applejack is quite muscular by earth pony standards, this wall of bone, muscle, and shaggy fur makes her look tiny by comparison. He shakes his head, making his short, straw colored mane fly about, as if to rid his mane of moisture.

Her brother always did seem to sweat a lot, she muses.

“Sorry, Big Mac, Ah guess Ah got a lil’ distracted,” Applejack responds, her cheeks turning the color of her brother’s coat.

The large stallion’s face takes on a somber visage before he speaks again, “Yer’ thinkin’ ‘bout her, ain’t ya’?”

Applejack forgot how perceptive her brother can be, despite him not being much of a conversationalist.

“How’d ya’ guess,” she asks, almost whispering.

The stallion, Big Mac as he is called, puts a comforting hoof on his little sister’s shoulder and dons a friendly smile. “Ain’t like ya’ ta’ get distracted.”

Giving a warm smile of her own, Applejack sits down beside her brother, snuggling into his fur. Big Mac was never much of a talker, but he rarely ever needs words to convey what he means, at least, according to his sister.

“Yeah, eight years an’ it’s still strange not seein’ Applebloom ‘round here,” the tangerine pony reminisced, a slightly somber look in her eyes, “been a couple a’ times Ah’ poked mah’ head into’er room thinkin’ I’d find her.”

Applejack sighs heavily, losing the smile she had, before continuing, “But Ah’ know she ain’t gone, not like… Granny. She’s out there, somewhere, Ah’ can feel it.”

The red stallion turns his emerald orbs towards the heavens, running a rough tan hoof through his blonde goatee. Applejack tends to forget that her brother has been trying to grow a beard the past couple of years, and she likes it. It makes him seem older, wiser, much more grown up.

“She’s an Apple, she’ll find her way home, if she is out there,” Big Mac finally responds.

Applejack smiles at the suggestion that her brother has not lost hope as well. The rest of Ponyville has all but declared Applebloom and her friends dead, even Applejack’s closest friends. The tangerine pony remembered ranting and raving at Mayor Mare for several days that she and the whole town were cowards, then begging her to send out one last search party into the Everfree. While she finally came to accept that the whole town had given up on the hope of seeing the three fillies again, it was nice to know somepony still cared.

On that particular train of thought, Applejack realized that she and Big Mac have been sitting in this one spot for far longer than they should have been. After all, the apples aren’t going to buck themselves.

But, before the tangerine pony and her crimson brother can get back to work, a mighty BOOM can be heard echoing throughout the valley. Every tree in the Apple Family orchard shakes violently, even causing several trees to lose most of their apples.

“What th’ hay,” Applejack exclaims, turning her head towards the sky, desperately searching for the source of the explosion. It wasn’t until her brother spoke that she witnessed the origin.

“Celestia’s mane,” Big Mac quietly exclaimed.

She turns to see his eyes gazing in awe towards Ponyville, and once she did likewise, her eyes became as wide as dinner plates. A perfect, white ring of smoke dominates the sky over the town, a white trail leading away from it. Heading the trail is a small silver dot zooming across the sky. At first, Applejack thought it might be a meteor, as they’ve been known to occasionally fall from the sky. That is, until the object turns upward and zooms over Twilight’s palace, just barely missing the tallest spire. It slows its speed and begins to circle the town, and while the object has stopped producing smoke, it still roars with the ferocity of a dragon.

Thankfully, as Applejack notices, the object is not a dragon, nor is it any kind of organic creature. It’s much too streamlined, far faster than any pegasus, and soars in a way no creature could ever match, not even Ponyville’s resident prismatic pegasus herself. This is something else, something not of this world even.

With each consecutive circle, the object slows down a bit more, coming to a complete halt after its fifth go around. A squadron of gold-clad pegasi guardponies guide it down to an empty field, on the western outskirts of Ponyville.

This was something Applejack had to see for herself, up close.

“Think ya’ can hol’ down th’ fort fer’ a while,” she asks Big Mac, her eyes still locked on where the craft landed.

“Eeeyup,” the red stallion responds in kind.

With that, the tangerine earth pony races off, knowing that, for all the strangeness that happens to befall the town, this was out of the ordinary, even for Ponyville.

******************************************************************************************************************

“Hurry up, Spike,” Twilight calls back to her draconic assistant, the both of them racing along towards the western edge of Ponyville.

“I’m trying, but these are heavier than they look,” the teenaged purple dragon grunts out, struggling to keep the enormous high-powered telescope and its accompanying tripod balanced under his arms.

All around the alicorn, ponies are either galloping along towards the edge of the town, securing themselves in their houses, or just in a panic. She can hear cries of, “What in the name of Celestia is that thing?!” to “Aliens!” and even one mare repeatedly screaming “The End is nigh!”

Even now, she can see the craft descend slowly, white coated pegasi in golden armor forming a semicircle around the front of the craft. As Twilight is able to get a closer look at the craft, she notices things she didn’t before, such as the three long, slender tubes on the rectangular craft, one on top and two on the bottom edges of the crafts hull. Judging by the cones spitting fire on the ends of them, she reasoned they must be the craft’s engines.

So it is jet propulsion, the alicorn says to herself as her smile becomes wider by the minute, or perhaps even rocket propulsion! It makes sense, if this craft is to leave the atmosphere. But where are its fuel tanks? According to calculations, it would need at least 100 tons of liquid fuel to even do that, let alone fly across billions of light-years of space. OOOO! I have so many questions! ~

She also notes the presence of a series of forwards facing rods on the craft’s long, triangular wings. Some kind of shielding system, defense mechanism, or-.

Or maybe even weapons?

But she reasons that if whatever beings piloted the craft wanted to attack them, they would have done it by now. As the craft nears the ground, a set of four short, metal legs, one on each corner, with a wide metal “foot” on each end, grow from the craft. Its wings fold slightly upwards at a 45 degree angle with an audible whirring sound, possibly to keep from scraping the ground and sustaining damage.

That is all she able to make out of it before the ground and sky are filled with swarming ponies, each wanting to get a closer look as the craft touches down.

It’s not long before a familiar voice can be heard over the din of the crowd.

“Twilight,” a rough, yet feminine voice, sounds from above her, “What the hay is going on here?! What is that thing?! Why is it faster than me?!”

The alicorn looks up to see a tall, lithe, powder blue pegasus mare hovering above her. The wind from the craft makes her short, rainbow striped mane and tail fly about, and her magenta eyes gleam in the early morning sun. The image of a cloud spewing a rainbow striped lightning bolt can be seen on her flank.

“No idea,” Twilight responds, still beaming, “but whatever it is, it has rocket engines! Perhaps they don’t even use liquid fuel, maybe even magically enhanced ion engines, but still, it’s remarkable to imagine how this thing works!”

Twilight can make out the pegasus’s remark of, “And, egghead mode engaged,” before turning her attention back to the craft, or, what she can make of it through the hoard of terrified and curious ponies.

That is, until she remembers her status, and begins to push her way through the crowd claiming to be on “Royal Business”. Behind her, Spike shuffles his way through, begging Twilight to let him set down the telescope or he’d drop it. She unintentionally didn’t hear him over the crowd, but is able to make out another voice, one very (unfortunately) familiar to her, as she nears the front.

“Princess Twilight, oh thank Celestia you’re here,” comes the voice of an elderly mare, full of worry no less.

Squeezing through the crowd, an elderly, khaki-colored mare appears before Twilight, her grey mane and tail a mess and her spectacles half hanging off her nose. Her eyes are filled with panic, yet she attempts to keep a calm demeanor despite the chaos around her.

“I don’t suppose you know what in Equestria that thing is,” the khaki mare yells over the din of the crowd. Several other ponies overhear her, and begin to demand of Twilight the answer to the question, along with a string of their own questions. The alicorn tries and fails several times to speak before being drowned out by the crowd, all of whom are either bombarding her with questions or attempting to push through the line of guardponies. All this going on at once makes it impossible for Twilight to get a word out.

However, the alicorn remembers a trick taught to her by Princess Luna, one that is practically made for calming rowdy crowds. She sucks in a deep breath, using an alter spell on her vocal cords in the process. What comes next silences the whole town.

“EVERYPONY, PLEASE STOP,” Twilight shouts at the top of her lungs, her magically altered voice echoing as loud as the craft’s engines.

Remembering to remove the spell, Twilight addresses the crowd once more, the hush that had fallen over them making it easier to dictate.

“In all honesty, the best way I can describe this is an ‘alien spaceship’,” she stands tall and confident as she speaks, “I don’t know where it came from, I don’t know who or what is piloting it, and I don’t know whether or not their hostile. But panicking isn’t going to make the situation better; we need to stay calm and figure this out. In the meantime, I will have to ask you all to calm down, step away from the craft, and go about your daily lives.”

Twilight must have been better at making speeches than she thought, since the air about the town visibly relaxes and many ponies start to walk away. But, just as things are starting to get back to normal (or, at least, normal by Ponyville standards), Spike, having long ago put down the telescope and tripod, points a claw towards the craft.

“The ship,” he calls, both excitement and worry on his face, “it’s opening up.”

The alicorn whips around to view the backside of the craft lowering away from it, a whirring, grinding noise emanating from it. The once calm crowd rushed back towards the craft, the squadron of pegasi guardponies struggling to keep them away. Twilight pushes her way through once more, determined to get past the line of guards. She figures that she would be best to meet these aliens first, just in case they are hostile. In that event, she could protect everypony with a shield spell while they got to safety.

The guardponies quickly allow the alicorn through, with the leader of the squadron (evidenced by the red crest of hair on his helmet as opposed to the blue the others wore) trotting up to her.

“Princess Twilight,” he addresses her, a slightly worried look on his face, “I believe it would be best if you would stay back, let the Guard handle this. We don’t know whether these… visitors are hostile, and I would rather you be out of the line of fire if it comes to that.”

“I’m well aware, Sergeant,” Twilight answers back confidentially, “and perhaps it would be better if I am here to greet them. They may very well take you and your squad as a threat, and that could cause them to react in turn. Have your wingmates stand down, we don’t want to provoke them.”

The Sergeant contemplates this for a minute before responding.

“Very well, but I shall stay by your side for security reasons.”

“Sounds reasonable; thank you, Sergeant…?”

“Breaker. Sergeant Cirrus Breaker of the Thirteenth Equestrian Sky Platoon, Fifth Squad.”

“Yes, thank you, Sergeant Breaker.”

The Sergeant barks orders to his wingmates as Twilight turns her attention back to the craft. The “door” has finally reached the ground, hitting the earth with a loud Clang! Within the craft stands three equine-like creatures, but that is all Twilight is able to make out thanks to the dim lighting coming from the lights inside. Both she and Sergeant Breaker tense up as the three figures step forward into the daylight, Twilight more from excitement than fear.

The first thing that utterly surprises Twilight is that the three figures don’t just look like ponies, they are ponies, an earth pony, a pegasus, and a unicorn to be exact. They’re all wearing armor made of segmented plates of metal, yet they all wear different amounts of armor, atop one piece body suits. On their heads sit a domed, bucket shaped helmet with a T-shaped visor, completely obscuring their faces.

Twilight doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but there is something familiar about these three. They’re all female, judging by their figures, and are at least in their teens; not quite as big as a fully grown pony, but the pegasus is almost as big as Rainbow dash, the tallest of her friends. The other two are roughly the same height, in fact, they’re both about as tall as Applejack, the shortest of her friends. There’s an earth pony, a pegasus, and a unicorn, and they look roughly the same age as well. There’s something about them Twilight can’t quite put her hoof on, but she’s not sure what.

The pegasus steps forward onto the edge of the ramp, and Twilight steps forward a bit herself so that she’s almost face-to-, well, helmet, with her. But, just before the alicorn can speak, something Twilight almost anticipated from the very beginning happens. A short, plump, bright pink earth pony mare, with a curly mane and tail of a slightly darker pink, pops out of seemingly nowhere, making Sergeant Breaker jump while exclaiming, “where in all of Equestria did she come from?!” The pink pony then begins to spew out questions at a rapid pace at the armored pegasus visitor.

“Oh wow,” she practically yells in a high-pitched, bubbly voice, “a real alien! Where are you from? What’s your name? My name’s Pinkie Pie, it’s short for Pinkameana Diane Pie, but everypony calls me Pinkie Pie or just Pinkie! I’m sure you’ve got a nickname too, is it Buckethead or something? Why are you wearing a bucket on your head, that’s just silly! Do all aliens wear buckets on their heads, or do they wear things like mops as well? Wait, you’re aliens?! Are you going to probe us? Put us in a zoo? Turn us into zombies?! Maybe eat our brains? Did you come to eat our brains?!”

The pink pony, identified as Pinkie Pie, finally stops for breath. Much to Twilight’s surprise, the armored pegasus merely chuckles before reaching up and taking off her helmet, placing it gently on the ramp beside her. The face underneath shocks everypony.

The pegasus sports an orange coat, with lavender eyes and a wild violet mane. Her face bears several scars, including a large one running across her snout. Gaining a warm, weary smile, the pegasus replies to Pinkie.

“No, Pinkie, we don’t eat brains,” her voice is full of bemused mirth, the smile still on her face, “but we could go for some of your lemon tarts, if you still make those.”

The other two pull off their helmets as well, revealing a dull yellow earth pony mare with blazing red-orange eyes, and a yarn-like red mane tied back by a piece of pink ribbon. The other is a pale grey-white unicorn mare with soft green eyes, and a short, choppy, grey and pink striped mane.

The entire town seems to collectively gasp at something that they long ago deemed impossible: the three young fillies, missing for eight years, now standing in front of them not only much older, but wearing strange armor and walking out of an alien space ship.

The only thing Twilight’s fragmented mind could think of at the moment though, was that this is highly unusual, even for the somewhat sleepy magnet of the unusual that is Ponyville.