Battlestar: Celestia

by Lunar Soldier

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Human, Main 6, Princess Luna, Adventure, Princess Celestia, Spitfire, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 49825

A pilot, knowing only death and destruction for most of his life, is the last human in the galaxy. Taking his carrier ship, the Caprica, he jumps to unknown space.

The Caprica. At one time, an impressive piece of technology for humanity. Originally built for peace; retrofitted for war. But now, Marcus is all that remains of the human race after a hostile alien invasion, and he uses the only life he's ever known to escape his captors. Making a blind jump to unknown space, his skills as a pilot, and as a man in uniform, will be put to the test.

Rated teen for language and some adult situations.

Published 2014-06-27 08:30:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-07-04 02:19:46 UTC

The Type 271-BXR (RCLS) and You! (A Prologue)

To: Captain Marcus Frude
SSDC Caprica, Type 271-BXR (RCLS) “Battlestar”
Location: ~~CLASSIFIED~~

Hello! If you are reading this you have been assigned to our newest addition to the Solar Space Defense Command’s fleet, the Caprica! Congratulations on becoming a part of history!

History

The Caprica, commissioned on June 23rd, 2295, received its namesake from the very old television series “Battlestar: Galactica.” The SSDC adopted the form, function, and design of the “Galactica” from the show and applied it to the Type 271-BXC, BXE, and BXR series. The design caused so many people to do their own research about what had inspired the architects that the top brass gave them all the unofficial designation “Battlestar.”

What makes the Caprica so unique is due to its original purpose. The Type 271-BXR series was built specifically for the exploration and research of other planets. This usually meant that the ship would be gone for long periods of time before returning to the shipyard or SSDC-controlled planetoid. How does such a ship keep its crew of four hundred and seventy afloat, you might ask? The BXR series carries an onboard farm, capable of raising livestock and crops via hydroponics. The growth-accelerated livestock, along with the nutrient-fortified produce, water recyclers, and oxygen scrubbers could keep the ship going for years before even needing to think about returning to homeport!

You may also notice several other differences from the BXC and BXE classes. The BXR has two lateral sensor arrays, as well as several other long-range scanning equipment. Using a fine tuning, these scanners could tell the composition of a planet to the core from over 5 AUs away! Set on its regular settings, it could detect any planet, ship, or astral body that comes within five light years. Due to the current Driden invasion, the BXR series is currently being used as listening posts and early-warning detection. Placing the ship in close orbit around any type of planetoid will obscure any Driden sensor, so we get the upper hand in knowing when and from where our enemy is coming!

Function

Just because you are on a ship that is going to be doing a bunch of sitting around undetected with a bunch of eggheads does not mean you are going to be totally defenseless. The BXR series still has the standard forward-firing magnetically accelerated cannons, firing four one-half ton payloads at whatever is unlucky enough to cross over in front of the bow. The BXR also contains a flak suppression system, capable of fending off Driden fighter swarms. And do not forget: You are on a carrier. There will always be at least eight squadrons of Cobra-class fighters in the flight pods, as well as the ship’s compliment of sixteen Hoppers.

You will have hopefully noticed the two flight pods on the Hopper flight up, if you did not land on them already. If you docked on one of the several docking stations or used the rear landing bay, take a trip down to one of the two pods! You can step out onto the deck! Do not worry about needing to hold your breath. A protective force field keeps the air in, the vacuum of space out, and Hoppers and Cobra-class fighters passing through freely

An additional feature is the bottom-side mechanical lift. This allows us to transfer goods, supplies, weapons, even personnel from the surface to the ship. However, in order to use this function, the ship must be in atmosphere, and no further than five hundred meters from the ground. This is one of the only times you may feel vulnerable, as maneuverability will be severely limited. But this measure is only used in an emergency or is safe to do so.

If you can find the time, you should make friends with the lovely Desarae, the ship’s artificial intelligence unit! She loves meeting new people and learning everything about them. And if you are interesting in learning, see the ship’s on board library, with a wide range of both digital and physical copies available. There is also a gym for keeping in top shape, as well as the crew lounge to relax and blow off steam!

Your Mission and You

On Deck A, section five, subsection two, there is a weapons locker. As a member of the SSDC, you are required to have your sidearm on your hip at all times during active duty. When arriving, please see the master-at-arms.

Enclosed is a tablet detailing mission-specific orders from your most immediate commanding officer. These orders are SECURITY TYPE: EYES ONLY. Please comply with mission security operating procedures to ensure the success of your deployment.

Do not forget that there are the hearts and minds of tens of billions behind you, giving you their full support during your deployment. If you are the praying type, we will be praying for you. If you are not, we wish you the best of luck all the same.

We will see you up there.

Mission Tablet

SECURITY TYPE: EYES ONLY
FINGERPRINT SCAN RECOGNIZED
RETINA SCAN RECOGNIZED
Captain Marcus Frude, CONFIRMED
DATE PINNED: May 20, 2338, 22:27.
DATE RECEIVED: May 20, 2338, 22:46
DATE OPENED: May 21, 2338, 04:38
MESSAGE BEGIN

Mark,

I want to apologize in advance for the abrupt transfer. Hopefully all of your effects got to you in time before you shoved off. I also hope the Caprica’s lack of an auto-landing sequence was not an incredible inconvenience for you. This will be the last transmission before the Caprica is ordered to go radio silent. So...I hope you feel privileged.

I know this was your third transfer since the beginning of the year, but there are three reasons why I put you where you are. First, you’re the best Cobra stick that we’ve seen in the last twenty years. This mission is too vital to leave to anyone we have left. Second, and more importantly, this will give you some time to reflect on the loss of Earth. I know you didn’t have much of a family left, but it still feels like we all lost our one true home. And that is why your mission is of extreme importance.

Third, is because we had detected a large Driden fleet approaching, and they’ll be here in forty...no, thirty minutes now. I told my officers to keep it quiet in order not to stir unrest and fear into an already fearful people. We’re trying to get all the refugees on board what remains of the SSDC fleet, and the last thing I need is wave after wave of people scrambling to get on board.

But there are too many,we have too few jump-capable ships now, and you know how hard it is to try to herd civilians. We’d have an easier time if they were all cattle, or horses, or even cats! And you know how much I despise those filthy overgrown rats. But we are going to attempt to get every last soul transferred. We’ve lost so much, and I refuse to give any more.

However...if we fail, the crew of the Caprica will be the only humanity left in the universe. Your orders still stand the same whether we fail or not.

Your mission: Find a new Earth. Settle. Disappear.

Probably the most succinct and difficult assignment that I’m ever going to give you, and it’s going to be the last order that you’re going to get from me. You will now be under Commander Mandkea’s flag, and will most likely make you the C.A.G. Listen to him, heed his orders, tell him what you think. He’s blunt, and will appreciate your bluntness. Never hold back a detail. I know you never do.

When you find another home, destroy this ship and the A.I. unit. Fly it into the nearest star if you have to.

Stay safe. Stay hidden. Gods be with you.

And good hunting.

Lord Admiral Cristiana Frude

Commander of the 9th SSDC Fleet

P.S. I know the last time we saw each other, it didn’t end well. And I’m all too aware that I’ve seemed standoff-ish, cold, calculated, uncaring (as you clearly explained to me last Christmas). I see that now. But, I could not be prouder of where you’ve come from, what you’ve done, and I’m already proud of what you’re going to do. Your father, brother, and sister would have said the same, gods rest their souls.

If there’s anything I regret in my life, it’s that I didn’t say “I love you” enough.

I love you, son.

Anywhere is Better Than Here...

Author's Note

Now musically inclined!

Anywhere is Better Than Here...

Mark climbed back into the helmsman’s chair with a straining grunt. The force of a Driden ordinance against the Caprica hit too close to the bridge, jarring him loose around the compartment. The fact that the world was spinning didn’t help him in his struggle to regain composure. Blood was freely flowing down from somewhere on his scalp, his ears were ringing, and it was hard at times for him to determine which way was up.

“Des!” he shouted to the empty bridge. “I’m beginning to think this was a bad idea!”

A holographic figure materialized beside Mark. Desarae chose to have a slender build, full cheeks, shoulder length hair that glowed blue as with the rest of her body. She wore a lab coat “to make the eggheads feel more at ease,” she would always say.

“When did that occur to you? When we jettisoned the entire Driden skeleton crew off the ship, or --” she brought up a display, “--when fourteen Driden heavy cruisers began an intercept course?”

“Heh...the second one?” Mark sheepishly responded.

Another ordinance hit the hull, sending Mark flying up, then crashing back down. A grunt and groan later, he saw Des bring up another display. “The magnetic plating is beginning to fail on Deck A.” A swipe of her hand brought up another screen. “Two more ships have joined the pursuit, and they’ve launched shuttles.”

“They’re gonna board us,” Mark muttered inaudibly. “Can we seal off the flight pods?”

“Not physically, but I can seal the hatches to the pods. Or as soon as they land I’ll deactivate the force fields.” Des brought up a schematic of the flight pods. “Not an original plan, but we know it’s effective.”

“Keep me posted.” Another round fell on the Caprica, causing an alarm to beep from the tactical station.

“We’ve lost weapons,” she began to inform, “and the port-side lateral sensor array.”

“Jump drives?” Mark nervously asked.

“Still operational, but need to be charged.” Another screen flick. “It’ll take at least three minutes for the drives to charge enough to jump outside of the system.”

Mark brought his attention to the closing ships on his readout. “We don’t have three!”

Des continued to tap on the holographically projected terminal. “Then you had best get me three any way you can!”

Okay, need to buy time. He began to think. Can’t outrun, can’t outshoot, can’t outmaneuvere. Mark looked again to the readout. The Driden ships were steaming in a disorganized formation. Five had clustered together, while the remaining were scattered at random intervals surrounding them. Inspiration struck.

“Perhaps today IS a good day to die!” Mark blurted out loud as he typed in commands. He saw the instruments and dials roll, as the ship did a one hundred and eighty degree turn.

“Marcus,” Des began, “you’re heading toward the bad guys.”

“I’m well-aware of where I’m going.”

“So your plan to get time is to run headlong into the center of the Driden formation with one of the most expensive pieces of equipment humanity ever produced.” She paused. “Seems legit.”

“I had actually planned on indulging in one last game of chicken. Or if we’re lucky, they’ll be dumb enough to shoot when we past through their formation.”

“Do you really think they’d be dumb enough to risk hitting their own ships?” Des asked.

“We’re talking about the species who started shelling an already occupied city,” Mark replied with a chuckle. “Not exactly the brightest bunch in the galaxy.” His tone went from cheerful to serious as he punched keys to bring the ship to maximum speed. “Either that, or try to take a few of them with us.”

“If you say so. Twenty seconds to impact.” A proximity alarm began to blare throughout the ship as the Caprica continued to steam toward the center cluster. “Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen…” Mark sat back in his chair and let out a sigh. “...fifteen, fourteen…” He saw a Driden cruiser break off from the cluster on his readout. “...eleven, ten, nine, eight…” Another broke from its charge, but Mark was no longer looking. His eyes were shut, trying to give himself one last moment of peace before the inevitable. “...six, five, f-...they’ve broke off.”

Mark shot his eyes open to see the Dridens were going to give him a hole big enough for the Caprica to pass through. Given the confusion surrounding their escape Mark was not surprised when the outlying pursuers opened fire. It had long been known that a Driden would rather shoot first and ask questions a few generations later, but to fire into a space occupied by friendlies was a tactic that even a first year cadet knew not to do. The Caprica passed through the given hole harmlessly, while what remained of the cluster took the shells meant for the Battlestar.

“See? Told you they weren’t the brightest.” Mark said as he folded his arms.

“I see that,” Des observed from her own projected screen. Another light popped up. “We will have jump drives in sixty seconds. And judging by our speed and direction, we will be out of their weapon range when-” she stopped when a call came from the communications relay station. “We’re being hailed.”

“Let them eat static.” Mark replied as he continued to watch the countdown. “Make ‘em think they took out our comms.”

Five seconds came off the clock before Des spoke again. “I don’t think they bought it. They’ve opened a channel.”

“What are they saying?”

“Oh, the usual,” Des answered, almost disappointed. “‘Stop your engines and prepare to be boarded.’ ‘Cease your escape.’ ‘Stop now and we’ll let you keep your ship.’”

The last demand caught Mark off guard. “Say what now?” Mark lept out of the helm seat, hopping over scattered debris and making his way to the comm station. A press of a button put the requests of the Dridens on the bridge’s speakers. “What the hell do you want?”

“Ah, captain.” That must be the High Warlord. “Good to hear a human voice. We were beginning to think we had killed you.”

“It’s going to take more than your tiny baby pellets to take me out.”

“Yes, we see that.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, captain, I have called you because I do not want to destroy the Caprica. There is something of great value to us on your ship. So I propose a trade.”

“What can you possibly have that I don’t?”

An alarm came from the tactical station. Des’s holographic form teleported to Mark’s location, popping up the readout. Three Driden carriers have jumped into the area in front of him, and were launching fighters.

“The thing you hold most dear... your life,” The High Warlord replied to Mark’s question. “The way I see it, I will deprive you of it if you continue on your present course. So, I will trade it to you, as well as your ship.”

“For what in return?”

“The artificial intelligence unit.”

Mark’s attention turned to Des who was frantically waving her hand. “Standby,” was his answer, and pressed the ‘Mute’ button. Des’s figure was turning a shade of purple, which Mark had learned signified she was afraid. “What’s up, Des?”

“Please... d-do not l-let them have me,” she sobbed. “The others...from the Orion, and the Crimson Fist...they took them.” She put her face in her hands. “And then they tortured them! I could hear their screams as they fragmented! T-t-then after they were done, they sold them to the highest bidder, just like they’re going to do with Earth…”

Marcus didn’t know that an A.I. unit could cry, but the sounds of open weeping echoing in the empty bridge made his bones shudder. “Des…” he tried to call, but she paid his words nevermind. “Desarae,” he firmly said, this time getting a reaction. “Look at me.” His eyes met her projected ocular receivers. “I am NOT going to let them take you,” Mark reassured, “even if it means the destruction of this ship.”

“You’d do that? For me?” She sounded surprised. “For something that’s not even real?”

“You’re all I have left. If you go...then I don’t want to live anymore.”

If she could touch organic flesh, Des would have jumped on Mark and given him a tackle hug. But yet another beeping from a command console stole their attention. “Jump drives are primed. Where are we going to go?”

Mark gave his stubbled chin a stroke. “Des, do you remember the incident at Kepler-186?”

“Of course I remember.” She swept away her navigation screen and brought up another, filled with mostly text. “A convoy was leaving the planet carrying grain and other assorted foodstuffs when two freighters were not accounted for on the other side of the slipspace jump, and no trace of debris was ever found. It is theorized that they were too close in formation, and their slipspace fields intermingled, causing a spacial distortion.” She swiped the screen away. “In other words, ships got too close when they jumped, and were vaporized.”

“Think we can replicate that?” Mark asked, raising a brow.

“Most likely. But we don’t have two ships.”

“No, but the Caprica has two jump drives that work in sync with the navigation computer. What we need to do,” Mark brought up a schematic of the jump drives, “is isolate each drive from the nav hub, that way it will force them to make their own slipspace fields.” He looked up. “It will work even better if we send them in opposite directions.”

“I’ve already taken the drives off the navigation hub, and they are ready to receive coordinates.”

“Very good. Set the port-side drive to zero-nine-zero mark one-eight-zero of current positioning, and the starboard to two-seven-zero mark triple zero.”

Des thought for a moment, the relays of data flowing through her body. “That should twist the ship apart.”

“That is my intention.” Mark grinned as he pressed the ‘Mute’ button again. “High Warlord, are you still there?”

“Yes.” His tone had gone from classy to irritable. “We were beginning to grow impatient. I see you still have not powered down your slipspace drives.”

“Quite so,” Mark smugly replied. “And you can be damned sure that I will not let you have this ship, my life, or the A.I.”

The speakers gave a groan of disapproval. “How unfortunate. I was hoping that you would be more cooperative given my offer, but it seems you will be going to join the fate of your race.”

“And YOU can go to Hell!” Mark yelled into the comm. “And while you’re there, tell the Devil that I’M COMING FOR HIM NEXT!” Mark cut the channel off with the slam of his fist. He knew they would start shooting again soon, and it felt as if he flew over the console and landed back at the helm. “Jump drives ready?”

“Cocked, locked, and loaded!” Des gave her own shout. “Mark, before we jump…” he turned, “Thank you. It’s been an honor.”

“Likewise.” He reached for the ‘JUMP’ button. “Time to kick this party off.”

In the instant after his finger made contact with the screen, Mark felt as if he were being simultaneously pulled and pushed, being stretched and compressed, and thrown around but staying still. He could feel the slipspace fields struggling for dominance, and with a flash, he was thrown up to the bulkhead, hitting his head squarely on the ceiling.

He dreamed of the stars and the Moon.

He was back on Earth with his older sister and brother. His childhood home, a small farmer’s house, situated atop a hill overlooking a lake. It was here where their parents met, where they shared their first kiss, where he asked for her hand, where they wed, and where they had all been conceived. They had built it at that very spot “Because that’s where our lives began,” they would always say.

“You think there’s anyone else out there?” his sister asked as she looked toward the heavens.

“I like to think so,” his brother answered. “Be a pretty big waste of space if there wasn’t.”

“Think they’ll be like us?”

“I hope not,” his brother sighed. “Maybe they’ll teach us and the rebels what it means to be at peace.”

“So Mom and Dad can come home?” she rolled onto her side, and Marcus could see the moonlight shining from her wide eyes.

“I’d like them to stay home,” Mark whined. “They’ve missed so much.”

“Dad should be back here at the end of the month.” His brother wrapped an arm around his sister and Mark. “And Mom the next week.” He gave them both a squeeze. “Gods... when was the last time we’ve all been together?”

“Your eighteenth birthday,” His sister said. “That was…”

“Eight years ago,” Mark did the math as he sat back up.

“At least they’ll be here for your eighteenth, Mark,” his sister blurted with a hint of regret.

“How about,” his brother sat up, “we have a party, one for both of your eighteenth birthdays, with two cakes...and another cake for every other occasion they’ve missed.”

“That’s literally going to be a metric shit-ton of cake,” Mark chuckled out. “You two can pig out on it. I’ve got to stay in shape for the SSDC entrance evaluation.”

“Oh, c’mon,” his sister had snuck up behind him, “You can have at least one.”

“Slice?”

“Cake.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want on my medical record as I go in. ‘Denied entry due to celebratory diabetes.’”

They all had a laugh at the newly-coined medical condition, and all fell back onto the blanket. “It shouldn’t be too hard for you to get in,” his brother pipped up. “With me, her, and Mom and Dad, they almost have to take you.”

“No kidding,” his sister added. “Know what you want to do?”

“Well…” Mark had been hoping they wouldn’t ask, “I was kinda hoping to be a... pilot.”

“What!?” his brother exclaimed. “Don’t be one of those lame Cobra jocks!”

“Yeah! You’ll have the easiest job ever! ‘Oh, look at me!’” she began to mock, “‘Imma pilot and fly around on my ass!’”

“Hey!” Mark half laughed and yelled, “I don’t have the brawn to be a SSDC Marine, or the marks in school to be in intelligence like you two did.”

His siblings both had a giggle. “Yeah,” his brother started, “As much crap as we give them, whenever my platoon needed a supply drop or aerial support, the Fighter Corps was always there to deliver.”

“Indeed,” his sister continued. “Whenever we needed to get a recon, the Fighter Corps were the first people we called.”

“I just hope I don’t get stuck on some carrier,” Mark finished. “I heard that can get pretty boring --”

When he rolled over to face his siblings, they had been replaced by his sister’s officer’s hat and his brother’s helmet. Mark blinked, and the sky turned blood red, a haze of smoke and ash hung at the horizon. Where they had been now sat four coffins, bearing the names of his family. A shadow formed, and when Mark looked up, his crashing Cobra fell upon him.

Mark gasped as he awoke, being startled by both his dream and by the sound of his own breathing. He looked around the bridge, noting that much had looked the same before they jumped. A piece of the bulkhead still laid on the floor, several console screens were still broken, and he could still hear the hum of the ship.

He stood, not knowing if his legs would be able to bear his own weight. “You okay?” Des materialized before him. Mark gave a slight nod. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to wake back up.”

“How long was I out?” Mark grogged.

“Twelve hours.”

“Damn...I must have really needed a nap.” Mark uneasily walked to the tactical readout. “Report.”

“Well...we’re mostly here.” Des started, bringing up her own analysis. “About the only system that’s running at one hundred percent is life support. In the jumble of our jump, we lost a Hopper. I don’t think it was properly moored down. We still don’t have weapons, the port lateral sensor array is somehow back online, and we’re adrift.”

That worried Mark. “Engine status?”

She expanded a small section of her screen. “Both jump drives are non-responsive. I think the shearing force of our experimental jump got to them.”

“Dammit.” He brought a clinched fist down. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to clip your wings.”

“We still do have sublight and maneuvering thrusters.”

Mark gave a shaky nod. “Better than nothing, I suppose.” He made his way to the center console, observing the star chart being displayed. “How the hell did we survive that?”

“I’m not certain. There’s still a great deal about slipspace we don’t know. We could have made an Einstein-Rosen bridge.”

“A wormhole?” Mark questioned.

“For the amount of power we put out, anything is possible. We could have been blown to another universe for all I know.” Des moved to the center console. “That shouldn’t have worked.”

“But it did. And we’re both okay, and we’re…” Mark paused, “we’re wherever we are.”

“About that…” Des began. “I’ve looked over every star chart that we have available to us, and I have good news and bad news.”

“What’s the bad news?”

“We’re in uncharted space.”

Mark furrowed his brow. “Then what’s the good news?”

“No sign of any Dridens.”

He gave a satisfied sigh. “That’s always good news.” A beeping from the chart display caught Mark’s ear. “What’s that?”

Des brought up her own chart. “Also while you were out, I had the sensors start scanning for any inhabitable planets. Looks like they’ve found one.”

Mark zoomed in on the scanned planet. “In the Goldilocks zone?”

“Yes, sir. M-class planet in orbit around --” Des stopped. "Strange."

"What?"

"My radio-logic scans are telling me this star is a G-type main sequence star, but it shouldn't be based on it's suggested size." Des looked to Mark. "It should be much, much bigger."

“How far away is the planet in question?”

A flow of information went through Des’s hair. “Three days at sublight speed.”

“That’s not far away at all.” Mark grabbed a stylus. “How come it wasn’t detected before now?”

“I’m still trying to get the sensors back to peak efficiency. It could have been distorted by the star’s magnetic field or some other celestial body.”

“Fair enough.” Mark touched the point of their current position, and drew a line to the newly discovered planet. “Plot me a course.”

Mark filled the three day journey by repairing what he could on the bridge. Broken screens were replaced and the piece of bulkhead was reattached. The Dridens had removed their livestock when they had been captured, but to Mark’s relief there was still some meat in the deep freezer, as well as some produce from their farm. He knew it wouldn’t last forever, and that this new planet was going to become his new home. The latter part of the second day consisted of preparing a Hopper with survival gear.

“Mark, we’re on final approach,” Des said to him as he was packing his things in his quarters.

“Very good.” He slung his pack mainly filled with spare clothing, some tools, and his sidearm, over his shoulder. Good thing I didn’t bring much. “Bring us into a standard orbit. I’ll head up to the bridge here in a minute.” Mark gave his cramped quarters one last look before eyeing a framed picture of his family. He picked up the photo, a grin coming across his lip as nostalgia filled his memory. “Mission accomplished, Mom,” he told the photo before placing it in his pack.

The bridge wasn’t too far away from the pilot’s quarters, but far enough for Mark to think about his new home. Wonder what kind of animals they have. He silently pondered as he walked. Wonder if they’re gonna be any good. And the flora. Better have some trees. I don’t want to have to live in a sod house like my ancestors.

“So I have a question.” Des asked as Mark stepped onto the bridge. “What do you plan to do with me?”

“Technically,” Mark put his pack down, “I’m supposed to destroy the ship as well as you. But since there’s no one to court-martial me for disobeying orders, I might keep you two around for a while.”

“Good.” Des brought up a localized map of the surface. “Because you might need a translator.”

Mark’s mind went blank, unable to process what Des was trying to imply. "Explain."

“Come over here.” She waved him over to the charting table. “I’ve detected several settlements on the planet.” The map highlighted several areas where the topography changed and an outline of suspected buildings and roads. “Thing about them is they can’t be very advanced. I’m only detecting one hundred and sixty parts per million of carbon dioxide emissions.”

“They always did say to keep it clean.”

“There’s also something else.” Blips now appeared on the map, mainly concentrated in the settled areas. “There’s some kind of power down there, but I can’t explain what it is.”

“Electrical power?”

“No, something... new.” Des changed the map to the visual scope. “We’re on the dark side. Notice anything?”

Mark looked down. “That’s one dark planet.”

“Exactly. So either there’s an electrical curfew in effect, no electrical power at all, or they’re really good at avoiding light pollution.”

“Des,” Mark said as he worked out an idea. “Set the bottom landing light to strobe. Let’s see if anyone is looking.”

New equipment had always excited Twilight Sparkle, and this one was the best. She had eagerly been awaiting her new telescope to replace the one destroyed by Tirek, along with the rest of her home. She now sat in her observatory wing of her castle after having spent all day building and calibrating her new telescope. Pinkie Pie had insisted on throwing her a “Moving in /New Telescope Party.”

“Jeeze, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash pipped up. “I know you’re excited, but you could at least try to keep your wings under control.”

Twilight spun her head to notice her wings were out. She wrangled them back in. “Heh heh...sorry.”

“’s alright, sugarcube.” Applejack commented. “We all know how giddy you are to try this out.”

“Absolutely.” Twilight trotted over to her new equipment. “Not only is it to replace the one I lost, but it’s their newest and most advanced model. I helped them design it.” She brought her hooves together excitedly.

“Yes, we know,” Rarity spoke. “You’ve only been telling us that for the last week. Your spa gossip has been of nothing else.”

“It is all she has been writing about as well.” Celestia appeared on the balcony flanked by her sister. All other ponies but Twilight bowed.

“Celestia! Luna!” Twilight called out with wide-eyed surprise. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“We just wanted to see how our newest princess was faring in her new home.” Celestia walked her way to Twilight, giving her a light embrace. “We also wanted to see just how excited you were about your new telescope.”

“Well I can tell you, if I’ve done my math right, if Nightmare Moon were still on the moon, we could probably see her with this.”

Celestia and Twilight looked to Luna. “Oh, ha ha. Very funny.” Luna was not amused.

“I’m sorry, Luna. I was only jesting,” Twilight apologized. Luna responded by giving her a smile and a wink.

“Well then, why don’t you give your telescope a look?” Celestia suggested.

Twilight turned and approached the viewfinder. Her new telescope featured several built in magnification lenses, as well as an assortment of eyepiece irises. She inserted the widest iris, changed lens to the lowest magnification, and looked.

To everypony’s surprise, she pulled back after only a couple of seconds. She tilted her head toward the top of the optical tube, and looked again. “Okay,” she started, “Who put the blinking firefly in the telescope?”

Everypony held their silence until Celestia spoke. “Is there something wrong, Twilight?”

“There’s this flashing light that I'm seeing. It’s fairly rhythmic in pattern. One second on, one second off.”

Celestia turned to her sister. “Luna, did you put any blinking stars out tonight?”

“Of course not, dear sister,” Luna answered. “I knew this night would be too important to Twilight Sparkle.”

“And I don't think it's a star,” Twilight interjected. “It’s moving.”

A murmur wove its way through the gathered ponies. Twilight flipped a switch, and the gears turned to the maximum magnification lens. She then traded out the wide iris to the most narrow. “It’s a…” Twilight began to explain, but then said nothing.

“It’s a what?” Dash blurted.

If jaws could detach themselves from the cheeks, Twilight would have had to go after hers. “It’s a…” she brought her head up. “...a ship?”

“Maintain this orbit,” Mark commanded.

“Aye, sir,” Des complied, sending the flight plan to the navigation computer. Mark sat at the tactical station and brought his hand to his beard, twirling the wire-y hairs. “You want me to keep the strobe on as well?” Mark didn’t reply. “Captain?”

“Mmmm? Oh, yes,” he said giving her a glance.

“Something eating at you, captain?”

“Kinda,” Mark said as he stood. “I was prepared to head down to the planet, but now…” he swept his hand over the topographical map. “This changes everything.” Mark brought his hand to his forehead. “Think I’m gonna just stay up here...’til someone down there tries to make contact.”

"That could be never."

"I know." He let out a yawn.

“Tired?”

“Yeah. Didn't know discovery would be so exhausting.”

“And you've been up since oh-five-hundred.”

“That too,” he added as he rubbed an eye. “What time is it now?”

“Twenty-one thirty-seven.”

“Alright. I’m gonna hit the hay.” Mark walked to the hatch, grabbing his pack. “Think you can steer without me?”

“Oh, don’t be condescending. I’m programmed to be a better pilot than you,” she replied with a smirk. “Goodnight, captain.”

“Are you certain, sister?”

“It’s worth a try. Everything must sleep at some point.”

...Right?

Author's Note

Big thanks to Syron and newbiedoodle for their great editing work.

...Right?

“A pilot?” Mark’s father gave his shoulder a light punch. “Gonna take after your old man, eh?”

“Take after...no. More like supercede!” Mark rebutted.

His mother brought forth their still-covered meal. “You always did have the sharpest eyes and the quickest wits out of all of us,” she commented with significantly less enthusiasm. “You’ll do fine there.”

“Cobra jock,” his brother mumbled.

Mark was about to stand up to repay his words with his fist, but his mother sensed what he was about to do. “Sit down, cadet. That’s an order.”

“Grrrrhabler,” Mark grumbled.

“What was that, cadet?” his mother snapped.

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” Mark replied, deliberately too loud.

“Better.” She placed the dish at the center of the table. “Now, just because I’m a snobby commanding officer, that doesn’t mean I can’t still cook!” She revealed the concoction, and Mark inhaled deeply through his nose.

Chicken quesadilla casserole...my favorite. Mark lept up to take his helping, but the food in the pot had turned to ash, and he was now surrounded by empty chairs where his family once sat, their headwear taking their places. He knew what was coming next.

"Where did they go?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

“They’re...gone.” Mark hung his head. “Soon their coffins will be here, and my Cobra will crash on me, and then I’ll wake up in a sweating panic.”

“Sounds like you have had this nightmare before.” The voice had moved, and Mark heard the sound of a foot coming down...No, wait. Feet don’t make a ‘clop’ noise.

Mark turned from the table to see Luna’s midnight blue figure appear in the dining room threshold, her starry mane flowing. It was enough to send Mark toppling backward over his chair. “Whoa, whoa, whoa...what the actual fuck!?”

“Greetings,” Luna said as she stepped in. “I am Princess Luna of Equestria. I am Princess of the Night, raiser of the moon, and keeper of dreams.”

“Great. Not even here for a night and I’m already having delusions,” Mark thought out loud.

“I assure you, you are not,” Luna replied. “It is within my magic to dwell in the realm of dreams and communicate directly with the dreamer.”

“Magic…” Mark said skeptically as he stood.

“Yes.”

“Now I know I’ve gone insane.” Mark sidestepped Luna, moving out into the empty living room. “Magic doesn’t exist.” He opened the front door and moved onto the wooden deck. “Just sleight-of-hand tricks and illusions that qualify themselves as ‘magic.’” He looked up to the sky.

“Everypony has magic in their own way,” Luna commented. Her gaze joined his. “Might I inquire as to what you are doing?”

“Waiting for my Cobra to come crashing on me so this dream ends. Think I’ve hit my daily allotment of mentally generated talking winged unicorns, which was zero.” Mark thought as he looked back to Luna. “Wait...every-pony?”

“I thought you said you’d have to see the coffins of your family first.”

Mark looked down. “There they are. Right on time.” He pointed off the deck to the four familiar boxes. He pointed back up. “And…here she comes.” The fireball of his Cobra was fast approaching. He closed his eyes and readied himself to be awakened, but the crash never came. He opened his eyes again to see his charred fighter suspended in mid-air.

“Do you believe me now?” Luna asked. Mark turned to see a faint glow surrounding her horn as well as his aircraft. In her levitation she had snuffed out the fires, and moved the hunk of metal gently to the ground.

“No,” he answered. “Now my subconscious is torturing me by making me spend time with my dead family.”

Luna pondered as she looked over the coffins. “Are they, actually? In reality, I mean.”

“Yes,” Mark hesitantly responded, “Yes they are.”

“Oh.” was all Luna could say. There were a few tense moments before she spoke again. “We saw your ship.”

Mark’s head snapped to the alicorn. “Already?”

“You seem surprised.”

“Do you even realize how low the odds are of spotting something the size of the Caprica in orbit?”

Luna thought. “About one in one thousand.”

Mark drew an outline of numbers with a finger, mentally tabulating the numbers. “Yeah...that’s about right.”

“The light may have helped.” Luna’s horn glowed again, projecting an image of what she had seen through Twilight’s telescope. A strobing flash moving across the night sky. “We didn’t know what to make of it at first. I thought it to be a rotating meteor, spinning and brilliantly flashing in the last remnants of the sun. My sister thought differently.”

“I didn’t expect to be found so soon.”

“There is another possibility of your discovery. Do you believe in fate?”

“Of course not,” Mark defiantly answered.

Luna frowned as she closed the image. “Might I ask why?”

“It’s always been my belief that I’m the only one in control of my own actions.” Mark stared pacing. “You don’t want to hear that you have no control when you’re a pilot and your life is literally in your hands.” He stopped. “One miscalculated angle, a hesitation on the trigger, a simple wrong move...and I’m a smear on someone elses hatch. I was basically trained not to believe in fate.”

“Then how do you explain how we found you?”

Mark smiled. “Luck.”

Luna gave a dissatisfied sigh. “Have I at least convinced you you’re not having delusions, and that I actually exist both in reality and in your dream?”

“Not really.” Mark cocked his head, “But I’m starting to warm up to the idea.”

“At least we have gotten that far.”

“I suppose I should introduce myself.” An image of the Caprica’s bridge flashed through Mark’s mind, and after Mark blinked, they were both standing on its deck. “I’m Marcus Frude, captain in the Solar Space Defense command, recently reassigned to the Type 271-BXR carrier known as the Caprica… and lone surviving human in the universe.”

Her eyes went wide with sudden shock. “My next question was concerning why I could not dreamstride with the others on your vessel,” Luna said as she looked around the bridge.

“There are no others.” Mark had noticed the change in scenery, but it hadn’t registered until then. “Wait, how’d we get to the bridge?”

“I may be here, but this is still your dream.” She walked past equipment and readout monitors, giving them all curious glances. “We may go wherever you please.”

“Well then, allow me to unofficially welcome you to the Battlestar: Caprica.” He did an open-armed bow. “Allow me to show you around.”

“I am sure there will be plenty of time for an official tour later,” Luna said as she held out a hoof to stop him. “I am merely here this night as a messenger.

“On behalf of the Princess of the Sun, the Crystal Princess, and the Princess of Friendship, we wish to extend to you an invitation in good will. So long as you bear no ill-intent toward us, the other Princesses, or any of our subjects, you will be welcome here. Should you bring harm to any colt, filly, or foal, you will be brought to justice.” One thousand years of rule and this is what she sends me to say. Luna mentally scolded her sister. But I suppose there is no edict for first contact.

Mark nodded. “I understand. I come here seeking to do no harm. I only wish to…” His formality left him as he fought for words. “...I dunno. Rest, I guess. Been fighting for so long I forgot what peace was like.”

"How long?" Luna inquired.

“Right before I turned eighteen, I enlisted with the SSDC. Typically they don’t accept anyone below that age, but my mother was an admiral, and she pulled a few strings to get me into basic training quicker. That was six years ago, by my calendar. Before then, my father, mother, brother, and sister had all fought the colonial insurrectionists, and those people had been popping up regularly for some twenty years. I had just received my wings when the Dridens began their march across the colonies.” Mark sighed. “They managed to kill ninety-seven billion people in the span of four years.”

The scene changed again, now having moved to the port flight pod. “I...I cannot even begin to conceive your heartbreak and sorrow for the loss of your people.” Luna stepped up beside Mark. “But know you have found a place of refuge and safety. I will ask no more questions tonight.”

“Thank you...for your hospitality.” Mark looked out through the force field to the countless stars. “Wish I could have brought more.”

Luna let the uneasy moment pass. “Though, if you would indulge us, my sister and the other Princesses are very eager to meet you.”

“As am I.” Mark swung his attention back to Luna, pushing back his gloomy mood. “I can be down tomorrow. When would be the best time to make my grand entrance?”

A journal appeared before Luna with a puff of blue smoke. “My sister will be having day court all day tomorrow,” she said as she looked through her notes.

“Alright. I’ll come down with my assistant to get our clocks in sync.”

Luna cocked her head in confusion. “Assistant? You spoke that you were alone.”

“She’s… special,” Mark blurted, not knowing how to adequately describe Des. “You couldn’t reach her with your… what was it? Dreamstride?” Luna nodded. “Can’t do that with her because she can’t dream.” Luna raised a suspicious eyebrow. “I’ll explain tomorrow.”

“Is there anything you need us to do before you arrive?”

“Couple things. First I need to know where to go.”

“Oh, of course.” Luna projected a map. “We are here, in this city.” She gestured to a city built into the side of a mountain. “It is known as ‘Canterlot.’ This is the city that we were in when we spotted you.” Luna pointed to another town, not far away.

Mark quickly memorized the map. “Okay. That terrain looks to be fairly unique. I’ll have my assistant map it out. Also-” Mark made the mental image of a Cobra, and after a blink, it appeared on the deck “-I need you to make a landing zone that can accommodate my aircraft here.”

“How big of a space do you need?”

“A circle no more than twenty meters in diameter.” A red ring formed around the Cobra. “Try to match that. Also might want to put a sign up that reads ‘Beware: Blast zone.’ I don’t want to cook someone.”

She observed the enclosed space. “An area like this will most likely have to be outside the city.”

He shrugged. “As long as it’s flat, it makes no difference to me.”

Mark stirred under the glow of the blue LEDs of his clock. 22:42. “Wow...that seemed longer than it was.” He ran his hand over his short hair.

“Trouble sleeping again, captain?” Des materialized by his bunk.

“Quite the contrary,” he answered in an almost cheerful tone. “We’ve been contacted.”

A flurry of information ran up and down Des’s figure, making her glow bright enough for Mark to shield his eyes. “I received no radio band frequencies or any other type of communications from the planet.”

“I wouldn’t think so.” Mark stood, reaching under his bunk. “Think I found the source of that mysterious power you were detecting.”

“Try me. I’ve scanned the planet literally hundreds of times and I still can’t come up with a solution.”

“Magic.”

Even without saying a word, Mark could almost hear the skepticism that she felt. “Are you going crazy?”

“Hope not. We just got here.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“You know I don’t play favorites.”

“Fair enough,” she replied as Mark’s code words registered. “So what did the mysterious voice in your head have to say?”

Finding the spare tablet he was looking for, he brought up a blank page and withdrew its stylus. “It said we are invited to the surface.” Mark hastily drew what he could remember from the map Luna showed. “I need you to find a geographic match to this drawing.” He held out the tablet facing Des, and she touched the pad with her holographic hand.

“I’ll see what I can…” she stopped. “I’ve already found a match.”

“Where?”

She touched the tablet again. “When we first arrived, on that dark side, that’s the first landmass I scanned.” The screen flicked to a map, showing the landmass overlayed by Mark’s drawing.. “Eighty-seven percent match.”

“Eighty-seven?”

“You suck at drawing.” She smirked.

“Touché.” He gave a small grin as he studied the new continent. “It should be…” He zoomed in. “Here. A city built into the side of a mountain.”

“Oddest placement for a city I’ve ever seen,” Des observed.

“Indeed. Second only to New Orleans.” Mark switched the tablet off. “Wake me at oh-five hundred. I’ll start prepping my Cobra in the morning.”

“Think arriving in a Cobra is a good idea for first contact?”

“Good point. Better take the Hopper.”

Mark awoke next at four fifty-nine. Much to his relief, the rest of the night’s sleep had been dreamless. “Des, cancel the-”

He was interrupted by the sudden blast of old country-western music. “YOU AND ME GOIN’ FISHIN’ IN THE DARK!”

“Des!” Mark tried to shout over the music. “Shut that shit off!”

The quick transition from loudness to silence left Mark’s ears ringing. “It’s oh-five-hundred, captain.” Des said over the audio.

He gave the speaker in his room a death glare. “I noticed.” Mark scowled as he stood. “Hard to believe people actually listened to that garbage.”

Since his transfer to the Caprica, Mark’s mornings had fallen into a routine: Stand, stretch, make bed, lavatory for piss and shower, quarters for uniform, address the duty pilots at zero-six-thirty, mess hall for morning chow, speak with Commander Mandkea, and fly. The absence of others on the ship had left his mornings quite lonely, since there had always been others with which to shoot the breeze.

Now there were just the echoing slaps of his bare feet against the plating, no meetings to attend, and the empty lounge where he ate. “Hey, Des,” he started with a mouthful of bacon. She materialized seated across from where he sat, “Where are we in relation with that continent?”

“We just passed over it,” she answered as she watched him eat. “What are you going to do when the bacon runs out?”

“Do not speak of such a horrifying prospect.”

“Maybe you can get some of those creatures down there to magically conjure some more.”

He finished the rest of his breakfast in one big bite. “If that’s the case, we didn’t find a new planet, we found Heaven.” They both had a laugh. “Hey, I’m actually going to go down in my Cobra, after all.”

“I still think that wouldn’t be wise,” she said as she shook her head. “When they start asking questions about it, what will you say?”

“The truth,” Mark answered as he stood. “These...ponies...have opened their door for me. I think it’d be only fair to them for me to fully disclose myself.”

“Why don’t you take a Hopper with a payload of nukes down then?”

“I want to tell them this is a warship, not make them empty their bowels right away,” he explained, placing his plate in the auto-wash. “I’m heading to the flight pod and transferring the survival gear to my Cobra.”

“Captain, there’s something else,” Des continued as they walked. “We aren’t sure about the microorganism environment down there. I would suggest that you keep your flight suit on during the entirety of your planetary excursion.”

“Acknowledged,” Mark said with a nod. “I’ll bring back soil, air, and water samples.”

The flight decks used to be the center of life of the Type 271 series of Battlestars. There always seemed to be some craft landing, another taking off, someone barking orders. There was always the bustling noise and mess of the standby deck, with a flurry of repair techs scurrying from ship to ship, preparing them for their next sorties. Mark first noticed the distinct lack of noise as he slid down the access ladder. The deck was picked up, and all Cobras and Hoppers were aligned in their respective spaces; an unusual sight considering the past year that they had been on the run. He walked the deck until he came across the fighter bearing his callsign, “Shocker.”

“Feel fortunate the Dridens left the cores primed, or you’d have a real short trip,” Des said.

“Figured they’d be too stupid and forget about that,” Mark answered as he made his outside physical inspection. “Is she still fueled and loaded?”

“Yes, sir. Expecting to shoot anything?”

“You know me,” Mark said, strapping on the rest of his flight gear. “Always like to be prepared.” He slipped a mobile storage unit for Des in his pocket before climbing the flight steps and sitting in his cockpit. “Coordinates loaded?”

“Aye.”

"Prep for carrier-style launch," Mark said as the glass hatch shut around him.

"Aye, aye." Mark heard the sounds of hydraulic clamps coming down on his Cobra's landing gear. Three consecutive snaps told him they were in place. "Clamps are on and locked. Moorings are detached and retracting. Moving the Cobra into position." The craft lurched forward toward the flightway.

“Preflight checks,” Mark ordered, reading the checklist from the flight manual as they moved. “Navigation, go. Propulsion, go. Maneuvering thrusters, go. In-atmosphere aerial fins--" The retracted sections of the Cobra's wings extended, prompting Mark to give the foot pedals and the flight stick a test “-- operational. Targeting systems, online. External ordnance, none. Kinetic ammunition, loaded, cocked, 'n locked. Cargo, standard planetary sample collection kit.” He pressed a button to retract the wings once again.

Des moved herself into the Cobra's computer. “Carrier launch is now automated. On-board A.I. is standing by. Ready when you are, captain.”

Mark nodded. “Okay. Let’s start this shindig.” A flip of a switch and Mark heard the fighter power up.

"Engines primed," Des said. "Five seconds to launch."

“Roger.” Mark leaned back into his seat, bracing for the G-forces. “And... pop goes the weasel.”

The clamps propelled the Cobra out of the hangar, clearing the bow before the maneuvering thrusters pushed the craft away from the Caprica. The Cobra pointed its nose to retrograde, and the main engines lit, beginning its descent into the atmosphere. An expectedly bumpy twenty minutes later, Mark broke through the troposphere and beneath the cloud layers. “Look at that, Des,” Mark said in awe, gazing upon the new landscape. “It's so...green.”

“Simple housing, wooden construction, dirt roads,” Des scanned as they flew over a village. “They’re barely out of the stone age.”

“Oh, be nice. They’re obviously somewhat evolved if they’re able to make first contact. Besides,” he saw a glimmer on the horizon and turned toward it, “look at that building there. That has to be made out of something special.”

Mornings were Twilight’s favorite time of day. The air was cool and clean, the morning birds were singing, Celestia’s first light was coming over the hills, a strange contraption was heading toward her castle at a frightenly high speed. “Wait, what is --” Twilight began to say from her favorite reading pavilion, observing the odd shape when it flew right overhead. The roar of the mechanical beast was enough to make Twilight’s ears ring, and the vibration sent a few books from their shelves. “Wha…”

“Think that scared the shit out of them?”

"Either that, or you woke their dead," Des replied

Mark chuckled before bringing his head to a shining light in front of him. “That must be our destination up ahead. City built into a mountain.”

In his travels that had brought him to most of the colonial planets, Mark had never seen such a spectacle that was Canterlot. The city reached out from the mountainside plateau, great golden and lavender spires jutting into the morning air. He passed overhead, viewing the cityscape. “Safe to say we’re not landing inside the city wall,” he said to Des. “I’m going to swing around, see if they put out the LZ like I asked.”

Mark made a large loop, coming back around and slowing to look for his landing zone. He spotted a large flat grassy area that seemed to have a distinctive red circular outline. “Okay Des, get ready for a bump.” He was on final approach when he saw a pony in shining armor, a spear somehow slung over his back, standing just outside the perimeter. Mark heard the grind of landing gear coming down, and a fairly violent thud as his Cobra finally touched down. “Oof!” he exclaimed. “I’m starting to lose my touch.”

“Well it’s been a year since you’ve had to land on a planet surface, so I’m not surprised,” Des said into his ear.

“Ready to transfer?” Mark asked as he plugged in the portable storage unit to a component receptacle.

“Transferred,” Des shortly replied over the wireless.

Mark placed the unit back in his zippered pocket. He waved his hand in front of the camera lens on his helmet. “Are you in on the optical uplink?”

“Aye. I have a visual.”

“Good.” Mark looked off the side of his fighter to see a small gathering of ponies. Some had horns, some had wings, others had neither, all in a variety of different hues and colors. There almost kinda...cute. What appeared to be soldiers kept them from coming close. A glimmer caught his attention from a spire, and he witnessed a gleaming flying carriage coming down, being towed by four of the flying types.

“Mark, you okay in there? Your heart’s going about a kilometer a second.”

“Yeah,” he huffed out. “I’m just a little...nervous.”

“Hey, one giant leap for mankind, right?”

“Pah,” Mark scoffed as he hit the button to open the hatch. “You mean one giant leap for me.”

What's New is Still Pretty Old

“Good morning, sister,” Luna said to Celestia as she stepped into the pavilion.

Celestia had been eating breakfast when her sister entered. “Ah, good morning, Luna,” Celestia said in a hushed tone, setting down her morning tea. “It is late for you to be wandering around the palace, is it not? You are looking weary,” she commented, noticing the circles around Luna’s eyes.

“Slightly,” Luna said with a tired smile. “I had hoped to join you on this very special morning.”

“You are always welcome to join me, sister.” Celestia brought her teacup to her lip and blew, steam running from the surface. “‘But I must ask what you mean by ‘special’ morning. Have I forgotten a holiday?”

“‘Tis not a holiday yet, Tia. Do you remember your suggestion to me as we were coming from Twilight Sparkle’s?” Celestia nodded. “It proved rather...fruitful.”

Celetia took a sip of her tea, flavored with ginseng and honey. “In what way?” she asked, bringing it back for another sip.

“We have made contact.”

Celestia froze, her teacup hanging in mid-air before the golden aura disappeared sending it to the marbled surface before Luna caught it in her magic. “I’m...sorry. Did you say-”

“Yes, above us, right now, there is a life form that walks among my stars. And he is just as curious about us as we are of him. He will be meeting us this very morning in an area I have already prepared just outside the city.”

Celestia rose from her bed of pillows, unsteady legs making their way to the edge of the railing. On calm, clear days a pony could see a spire or two of the princess’s old castle in the Everfree forest, but the morning haze obscured anything past the still sleeping Ponyville. She turned her vision up, piercing the skies with her magenta eyes and lost in thought. “Guard!” she finally called.

A white pegasus that had been standing right inside the doorway answered the summons. “Yes, your majesty?”

Celestia turned to face him. “Fetch my steward.” The guard gave a salute before taking flight, leaving Celestia and Luna alone once again. “Are you certain, sister?”

“As I am certain that the day follows the night.”

She brought an unadorned hoof to her chin. “This... is unprecedented. It has been many a millennium since ponykind has made first contact with another society, let alone another species. How do we proceed?”

“With caution.” Luna stepped beside her sister. “‘Twas was not an easy dreamstride to accomplish. This creature’s mind was not readily accepting of an outside influence. However, I managed to acquire a great deal of information.

“This new life form calls himself a ‘hue-man,’ a creature that walks on two legs, with a flattened muzzle, arms similar to a dragon’s, but with soft, rounded claws. I was able to ascertain the syntax of his language, knowledge that I will share with you shortly. But-” Luna hesitated as she took a breath. “-in my stride, I felt a great strain and sadness. It is being repressed deeply within his heart, and I fear that it will eventually break free.”

Celestia’s steward broke the conversation, a mustachioed unicorn with a wheat-colored coat, graying mane and a cutie mark of a pocket watch, “You summoned me, your highness?” Kibitz brought forward and quill and paper, ready to write.

“Yes. The court session is to be cancelled today.”

The steward made a quick scribble. “What reason am I to give the delegates?”

Celestia looked to Luna, hoping for a helpful answer, and all Luna could give back was an “I don’t know” shrug. “Tell them… it is an issue of Equestrian national security that I must deal with personally.” The steward looked over the paper, giving Celesia an uneasy eye. “It is nothing to be concerned about.”

“This will not bode well with Ambassador Benji. He was meaning to discuss the rising political tension in the Griffon Kingdom.”

“I know,” Celestia sighed, “and extend to him my most sincere apologies, but something bigger has come to light.”

The steward gave the paper another note. “Very well, your majesty.”

“Thank you. That will be all for now.” Celestia waited until her steward had left the pavilion before turning back to Luna. “Do you know what is causing this human’s distress?”

“He did mention it, yes.” Luna looked to the morning sky, “He is alone, Tia. Alone in the worst way.”

“Loneliness does bring sadness into the hearts of ponies, but I don’t understand why this is a cause of alarm.” Celestia had brought herself around to gazing over to the Everfree forest again. Weather ponies had begun to stage clouds for the day when a lone black dot broke through them. Celestia paid it no mind until she saw it was moving much too fast for it to be a weather pegasus, careening and turning to fly directly over Twilight’s new castle.

Luna’s sight followed Celestia’s. “It will be alarming to you once you hear it. And it looks like you will be able to ask him about it yourself. But before we do,” her horn charged with a blue aura, a sphere forming at its tip, which then slowly flew to Celestia’s, merging with the white alicorn. “That should let us communicate with him before we can give him the language spell.”

“I will dispatch a letter to Twilight. She will want to be here for this.” She took her own quill from an inkpot on the table and a scroll in magic. “Guard!” Celestia called again.

“Your highness?” Another pegasus approached.

“Gather the chariot team and instruct them to meet us here.”

Post-Equus arrival, day 0
08:02, Ship time
City LZ, Canterlot

For the fourth time in his life, Mark felt a wave of fear wash over his body. His legs failed to move with the rest of him the first time he attempted to stand. C’mon, he mentally motivated himself. It’s not like you’re facing an entire fleet of Dridens bearing down on your home planet, or escaping on the Caprica, or meeting your girlfriend’s parents. He managed to stand on the second attempt, erecting himself atop his seat.

The ponies that had gathered collectively stepped back as he stood, a hushed murmuring moving through the crowd. The stiff gray flight suit shifted, he looked up through his polarized visor to see his heads-up-display tracking the carriage before sliding down the side of his Cobra, boots making solid contact with the ground. A few pony gasped, while another fainted. “Landfall,” he quietly said to himself.

“Literally,” Des said in his ear. The carriage landed a few meters outside the landing circle, its shine radiating and making it glow. Mark could easily recognize Luna from his dream, but she was dwarfed by another that sat beside her, her billowing mane flowing in the absence of the wind. Both stepped down from the gilded chariot, their adornments glaring in the morning light. Mark turned square to the winged unicorns, raising a hand in greeting. “The hell was that?” Des whispered.

“I have no idea what else to do. Can’t exactly pop off the helmet.”

“So do the next best thing, then!” He brought his hand down, pressing a button near the right temple on his helmet. His HUD switched off and the visor depolarized, revealing the full of his face and letting the light reflect into his eyes.

Through the glass, the two crowned ponies did nothing but smile. “Mark, I presume?” Luna finally broke the ice, speaking to Mark in English.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Welcome to Equestria,” the white companion spoke next. “This is an exciting day for all of us.”

“Indeed, ma’am.” An awkward silence followed. “I’m surprised that you can speak my language.”

“During my dreamstride, I managed to extract your knowledge of your words and shared it with my sister,” Luna said, “but the effects are temporary. We have another on their way to permanently embed our language into your mind.”

“Very well.” Their answer gave Mark a feeling of violation. He switched to the radio channel to speak to Des, speaking out of the corner of his mouth so the ponies hopefully wouldn’t notice. “Wonder what else they got.”

“Knowing you, none of it good.” Des replied.

Mark switched back over to the speaker. “I bet you both have about a million questions for me.”

“Hopefully not that many, but there is a place and time for that. I am Celestia, ruler of Equestria, and bringer of the Sun.”

Mark did a bow. “Honored. I am Captain Marcus Frude.”

Celestia gestured toward the carriage. “If you would care to join us, we would like to ask you those questions now.”

“Of course.” Mark took a step toward the carriage, the hushed voices through the now larger crowd of ponies audibly louder than before. He glanced over, turning the polarization back on his visor, and changing channels back to Des. “What do you think they’re saying?”

“In my experience with alien species, it’s either ‘Kill him now’ or ‘Give us your stuff,’ usually both.”

“Always the optimist, Des.” Mark gave a small grunt as he stepped onto the carriage. It was wider than what Mark had expected an old-style chariot to be, capable of somehow still fitting the three of them.

A string of unfamiliar words escaped Celestia to the pegasus ponies before the chariot began to move, “You might want to hang on if you are going to stand,” and with a wave, they took to the skies. Mark hadn’t been a stranger to flying, but to feel so exposed gave him a queasy feeling. The towering spires continued to leave him in awe, as did the view of the city. So...clean, pristine. I’m really out of place here. Much to his relief, the flight lasted no longer than a couple minutes. They landed on a sunlight-filled platform, giving an overlook of the city.

He stepped down and offered an arm to the Princesses. “Thank you,” Celestia said, stepping down. “At least we know he is a gentlecolt.”

“Brownnoser,” Des said in his ear.

As they stepped inside the castle, Mark turned the polarization off again, taking in the sheer magnitude of the great hall he was in. He followed the two alicorns to a set of double doors. They swung open, revealing the throne room. As he walked, Mark took note of the great stained glass windows, each depicting something different. Mark assumed they all had some story behind them that he would ask about another time.

Celestia reached her throne, Luna flanked her right side, and another unicorn sat to her left. “We are still waiting for the arrival of another, then we can begin.”

As if on cue, another alicorn opened the double door, this one standing shorter than Luna, with a coat of lavender and a still mane, much unlike the others. She spoke in their native tongue, and Celestia gave her a response. “Marcus, this is Twilight Sparkle, one of my students and our newest princess.”

Mark gave a bow, and all Twilight did was stare. When he came back up, Twilight gave him an all-around visual inspection, investigating his flight suit, tapping on his helmet, even giving his hands a mobility test. Luna spoke to Twilight, saying something that made the curious pony stop. Luna charged another ball of magic, received by Twilight. “We need a permanent way of communicating with you. I believe Twilight has a solution to this problem. Do you think you could remove your helmet?”

“I’m not exactly sure how the microorganisms will react to human physiology, so I’m gonna keep it on, if you don’t mind… as a health precaution.”

A muttering of words transpired between Celestia and Twilight. “Very well. Now, hold still, please,” Celestia said. “This is going to feel a little weird.”

“Just how weird-” Mark’s question was cut off when a brilliant flash of purple enveloped his vision, swirling energies forming a sphere, then coalescing through his helm. A strange feeling of warmth filled Mark’s head, followed by a tickle, that quickly grew to be an itch. “Gahdegr-whazinthe…” Mark felt like he was drunk, not quite controlling the words coming from his mouth. “Sem, nesnehah… coarlehugh…” He fell to a knee, the intensity of whatever they did finally being too much, before it finally ended.

“Mark,” Luna gasped, “are you alright?”

He gave his head a thorough shake, trying to rid of the remaining itchy feeling. When it had finally subsided, he stood again. “Yeah, I think I’m okay.” He looked to Twilight, “You could at least warn me next time.”

“Sorry,” Twilight apologized, “I didn’t know how much it would take to perform the language spell, and I may have overdone it.”

“At least it worked,” Mark said. “Just...ow.”

“So sorry.” Twilight blushed, “Hopefully we won’t ever have to do that again.”

Celestia and Luna both sat back down after the excitement had passed. “Well, now that the language barrier has been broken, we might be able to get some things accomplished.”

“How did you do that, by the way?” Mark asked.

“I gave the syntax I took from dreamstriding to Twilight, and she formed a spell that would basically rearrange your language center.” Luna looked to Twilight. “I had not expected the experience to be so intense.”

The mobile storage unit in Mark’s leg pocket began to vibrate, meaning Des wanted to get out. He unzipped, and held the unit out. A miniaturized version of Des popped out, much to the sudden surprise of the princesses, “So you basically mind-raped him.”

“I beg your pardon?” Celestia said, agast of Des’s words.

“Putting things where they shouldn’t be, and mind-stealing while we’re at it, too.” She began to glow green, showing she was about to become hostile. “What else did you get while you were digging around in his mind without him knowing?”

“Des,” Mark calmly said, “Chill.”

“How do we know they aren’t brainwashing you?”

“Test me.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“You know I don’t play favorites.” The color in Des returned to its normal blue hue. “And how are you able to talk to them?”

“I picked up enough of their syntax to form a rudimentary vocabulary, but some of that... whatever she did must have made its way into the memory unit.”

Celestia stood again, stepping down from her chair and approaching Des and Mark, “And just who is this?”

“This… is Desarae, my assistant. I just call her Des.”

Luna joined alongside her sister. “Is this who you spoke of last night?”

“Yes, the one you could not stride with because she doesn’t really exist.” Mark saw three sets of eyebrows furrow. “Well, it’s tricky. She exists but at the same time she doesn’t. It’s like Schrödinger's paradox.”

“What is that?” Twilight inquired.

“For all intensive purposes, Des must be considered both alive and not alive. She can’t exactly interact with the world like you and I can, but she thinks, and can show some kind of emotions.” Mark could sense the utter confusion in the room. “But we are not here to argue philosophy. I believe you have some questions.”

“Right.” The alicorns retook their respective places. “Our first question, put simply, is how did you manage to find us here?”

“That… is an interesting tale,” Mark began. “I came here purely by accident. I was running from my captors, and using the technology on the Caprica, I managed to somehow teleport myself to another universe, or was blown to bits and this is all a dream. I don’t even know.”

“You were...running?” Celestia gave a worried eye. “Are you a criminal?”

“No, ma’am. I was… well…”

“I’ll explain,” Des said in his headset. He placed the memory unit on the floor, where she grew to her full-size. “We were running from a group of aliens called the Dridens. They’re a species of interstellar warriors/conquerors/businessmen who operate under one rule: ‘If I see it, it’s mine,’ and, unfortunately for us, it doesn’t matter who stands in their way. The Dridens discovered the mineral and resource rich worlds of the outer human colonies some four years ago, and began to systematically move from planet to planet.”

“What happened to the residents of these planets?” Celestia asked.

“They were murdered as part of their bloody conquest.” Des plainly responded. “Ships would try their best to make their way off-planet, only to be shot down by the Driden blockade.”

“We tried to fight them,” Mark continued. “The SSDC put together a rag-tag fleet, but it was too little, too late, and the Driden numbers were just too great. We’d lost the outer colonies within a year. A total of five planets, plus their defensive forces.

“We then spent the next three grueling years fending off a walking death machine...and failed. Our mother planet, Earth, was the last to fall. All of our ships were recalled to Earth, and we knew it was going to be an all-or-nothing fight. The surviving SSDC fleet from the siege scattered, given coordinates so that we would regroup at a later date.”

Celestia sat, jaw agape from the horror story being told. “How many made it?”

Mark shook his head, “Our last official count before we were ordered to go radio silent was somewhere in the few thousands.”

“Out of?” Twilight asked, having a feeling she would immediately regret the answer.

"Ninety-seven billion, on nine planets, spread across one thousand light years."

Silence filled the throne room, the quiet chirping of morning birds only partially breaking the quiet. “It’s…” Celestia whispered, her voice barely audible, “unfathomable. An entire race.”

Mark hung his head, giving a slight shake before continuing. “The Caprica was one of the only Battlestars that made it out of the fight, along with the Winter’s Bane and the Hellscreamer, my mother’s ship. She gave us the order to go into deep space and find a new Earth while she stayed behind with the Winter’s Bane to gather the civilians.” He looked down at the marbled floor. “It was the last transmission we received from any other allied ship.”

“We spent the next year looking for planets that would be capable of supporting human life, but to no avail,” Des continued. “One year, two months, and eleven days after our exodus began, we were intercepted by a Driden carrier fleet. The crew of the Caprica was taken prisoner, and three months passed by before anything note-worthy happened on my end.”

Mark picked up again. “As Des said, we were taken prisoner. Three hundred and fifty-some-odd people were thrown into a room about half this size.” He looked about the throne hall. “A pretty tight squeeze for anyone. The Dridens began to question us, asking if we knew any other strongholds of humanity. We kept telling them they destroyed them all, and they kept asking. After the first month, we started noticing some people weren’t coming back.”

The alicorns’ jaws dropped in disbelief. Twilight began to slowly shake her head, eyes never leaving Mark. “Please tell me they weren’t doing what I think they were doing…”

“Out the airlocks,” Des said. “I could pick them up on the sensors.”

The princesses’ horrified looks didn’t relent. “When there were only twenty-five of us left, we made a pact that if any of us could get away, we were to take the chance and not hesitate,” Mark started. “Four of them thought they saw an opening, and they all were met by gunfire.” He began to feel his eyes tear, but threw his head back, quickly batting his eyelids to dam his eyes. “By the end, it was just my commander, his first officer, and myself.”

“It wasn’t just enough for the Dridens to eliminate humanity,” Des interjected. “They made leaders see their compatriots go first.”

Mark stood taller. “When they finally came for the rest of us, planning on taking us out in one stroke, I had spent the previous night preparing for the inevitable; making peace with my demons and gods. Oddly, they sent only one Driden per prisoner to escort us to their interrogation room, a mistake for which I made mine pay.

“Common Driden soldiers kept a blade behind their back--” he turned and pointed right above where buttock met back “--and my guard’s blade happened to not be all the way in its sheath. The three of us were separated, and when I felt the time was right, I took it, and to spare you the graphic detail, I forcefully removed myself from his custody. I could see the Caprica was still docked with the carrier, and I managed to throw a few distractions around, yanking out wires and the such, going so far as setting an electrical fire. In the confusion of their on-board emergency, I slipped past and made it back onto the Caprica.” Mark turned to Des’s holographic form.

“I could tell something was amiss on the carrier when the support cruisers began moving away. Pretty standard operating procedure if there’s a ship fire, no matter what fleet you happen to be serving. A few minutes later, I detected someone trying to get into the armory. Thing about the armory door is it’s magnetically sealed with a passcode that only the command staff and the master-at-arms knows. I knew something was really wrong when they got the passcode right. I brought the security camera footage up and saw Mark raiding the stockpile of arms and ammunition.”

A corner on Mark’s mouth came up in a grin. “When Des told me on the comm that she could see me, I about jumped out of my skin. She instructed me to shut the hatch and standby. When I asked what she had in mind, she ever so politely told me to shut up and do what I was told to do, and so I complied. The hatch shut, I heard the magnetic seals engage, and I then heard a ‘whoof’ sound coming from outside the door, along with a few thuds.”

“What did you do?” Celestia asked Des, seemingly now enthralled in the story.

“I repaid them the kindness they were showing the remaining crew,” Des shifted yellow, an indicator of plotting and planning. “They had placed a skeleton crew on the Caprica to oversee its systems and learn how the ship worked. When Mark sealed himself in the armory, I jettisoned them all into the cold vacuum of space.” She shifted from yellow to green, “A kindness they did not deserve.” Des returned to her normal blue hue. “I repressurized the interior using the emergency atmosphere reserves and unlocked the armory door.”

“When I heard the locks disengage, Des shouted ‘Get your ass to the bridge, now!’ I don’t think I’ve ever ran so fast in my life. A short chase and one intentionally miscalculated lightspeed jump later… I think you’re familiar with the rest of the story.”

Luna gave a small grin of her own. “And you still accredit all of what happened to luck?”

“Well, luck times instinct plus opportunity, yes.”

Luna was about to refute, but Celestia beat her on the draw. “Well, that was...quite the tale.”

“A tale worthy of drink and song, don’t you think?”

Twilight’s mind was ablaze with questions, but one in particular was brought forward. “You’re surprisingly okay with losing your entire race.” Another awkward silence was brought to the hall. “Too okay with what you have described.”

“I don’t follow.” Mark replied.

“You've just told us a story on how you lost your entire species, and yet you can stand here, acting like nothing has happened.” Twilight looked to Celestia, “If all of the Equestrian race were to disappear except for me, I would be so devastated I doubt I could function.”

“I put my focus into my mission, which my mother’s words read: ‘Find a new Earth. Settle. Disappear.’”

“Even then… you carry yourself well.”

Mark brought his hand up to run it through his scalp, forgetting for a moment he was wearing his helmet. “I really had no ties left on Earth, and I've had a year to fight my feelings. There was a shrink on the Caprica after all.”

“A what?” Celestia asked.

“Sorry. A shrink is a slang word for a psychiatrist, specifically trained for soldiers returning from the warfront.” He folded his arms. “I’ve made my peace, and am ready to move on.”

Celestia rose, Luna and Twilight following. “Marcus Frude, I’m sure you are aware of the terms that my sister brought to you on the previous night.”

“I am. Do no harm and no harm will be done to me.”

“And do you swear to abide by these terms?” Celestia spoke with regality.

"On my honor as a member of the Fighter Corps, yes."

“Very well.” She stepped down from her throne and approached Mark. “You are hereby permitted free access to Equestria, so long as you continue to follow the terms. If you were intending to immigrate, I do not grant you citizenship at this time. We require time to study you, and if the princess agrees, I can think of none better than Twilight Sparkle for this assignment.”

“I will accept this burden, princess.” Twilight said.

“Will you allow yourself to be studied, Marcus Frude, so that we may learn more about you?”

“I will,” Mark responded, “under one condition.”

“And what condition is that?”

“The Battlestar: Caprica is to remain under my personal possession, along with all technologies and items that are human in origin. The Caprica will be accessed by your people - I mean ponies - only after gaining my permission.”

Celestia looked to the other two alicorns, both giving a nod. “It will be so.”

“Then I accept your terms.”

Upon returning with samples to the Caprica, Mark discovered the pathogens on the planet did not know how to respond to human DNA, thereby making him immune to any Equish diseases. The same could be said about any pony visiting the Caprica. Leftover viruses and bacteria simply could not harm the ponies. He was more than happy to return to the surface and not have to wear his stiff flight suit or helmet.

It was suggested to Mark that he take up residence in Twilight’s castle for her to better understand human mannerisms and behavior. Des had taken over the duty of keeping the Caprica in orbit. “I’ll be taking a Hopper down, so if you ever need to talk, just call,” Mark reassured her before he left.

“I imagine I’ll be talking to you frequently. Even I can get lonely, ya know.”

Upon moving in, Mark was greeted by Twilight’s personal circle of friends, who were part of her personal council. Mark later learned they were the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, the most powerful magical force on the planet. “It was DESTINY that brought us together!” Rarity overdramatically exclaimed. “And we as ponies and all of Equestria have felt the benefit.”

"Hey!" Pinkie Pie suddenly shouted. “You know what this calls for?”

Rainbow Dash grinned. “Here we go…”

“A PARTY!” A cannon somehow appeared in the hall where they were standing, firing confetti and streamers throughout. That night, all of Ponyville was invited to the “132nd Welcome to Ponyville” and “1st Welcome to Equis” party, and most of the townsponies attended. Many came just to see the new sapient being who came from space.

The part lasted from early evening to the wee hours of the morning. At one point, Mark stepped out onto the outdoor platform housing Twilight’s astronomy equipment. The air itself was cool, with a gentle breeze running across his face and arms as he took in a draw of the night air. He looked back to the party goers still inside through the glass door. Primitive, yet… strangely entertaining. Mark turned back to the telescope. So this is where they found me. He then gazed to the field of stars, wondering where the Caprica would be in its orbit.

His attention turned to the door when he heard it open. “Um… excuse me,” A meek voice said. “Oh, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Of course not,” Mark said to Fluttershy. “I was just stepping out for some fresh air.”

“M-me, too,” her nervous voice stammered out. “Pinkie’s parties can be a little overpowering sometimes, especially when she gets excited.”

“I was just thinking about the party. I don’t think I’ve ever received such a warm reception before.” He looked to her teal eyes. “I’m glad you’re all taking a chance on me.”

A Night of History

Author's Note

After rereading the last chapter, I agreed with the comments that a three month time-jump was too far. So I took it out.

A Night of History

The party had begun to dwindle, much to Mark’s relief and somewhat to his disappointment. The first order of business had been a meet-and-greet. Ponies lined up to officially greet the newest resident of Ponyville. Although many had been timid, most had warmed to his presence, telling them their names, giving a quick fist-bump. Afterward, he merely mingled among the attendees, many of which asked questions of “Where did you come from?”, “What was your homeworld like?”, “Can we see your ship?”

Mark’s watch read 01:42 when he decided to turn in for the night. The party had begun to dwindle far before then, but many ponies lingered to continue to inquire about Mark. When the last guest departed, Twilight personally showed Mark to the room where he would be staying. “I actually don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the castle,” she said right outside his room. “I’m still trying to get acclimated to this place.”

“Oh, great,” Mark sarcastically replied. “So what the heck am I supposed to do if I get lost?”

“You’re resourceful, right? I’m sure you’ll think of something.” She gave a short squee in company of an awkward smile.

The door opened to the bedroom. “Wow”, he said as he looked around the residence, “this is way too nice for me.” His first observation was a raised area with stairs leading up to a bed. Mark thought about the last time he had slept in an actual bed instead of the bunk in his quarters.

Twilight gave him a thorough tour, pointing out the vanity, private bathroom, work desk, glass double doors leading to an exterior platform, and closet. “Tomorrow we should take you to Rarity’s boutique shop and get you some clothes. I’m assuming it’s human custom to always remain clothed?”

“A custom I plan on keeping.” Mark gave a chuckle. “There was always a stigma against walking around with no clothing. It was mostly shamed in civilized cultures. About the only times it was ever accepted was during certain festivals, and times of intimacy.”

“Right.” Twilight flushed and quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call someone. I’ve placed a summoning bell here,” she said, pointing to a nightstand. “Simply ring the bell outside the door, and somepony will come and see to your need.”

“Think I’m going to use that right now. I haven’t eaten anything since I left the Caprica, besides the party treats. I’m quite famished.”

Twilight picked the bell up, hovering it outside the open door and gave it a shake. “I don’t know if there will be anything quite to your liking. We aren’t exactly omnivores like humans are.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem so long as I get protein from some other source, like nuts or beans or fish or something of the like.”

After ordering a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich and a tall glass of milk, Twilight began to ask her own questions. “Are you average for a typical human in terms of size?”

“Right on it, in fact.” Mark said after swallowing a bite. “I think the official average was right under two meters. Any taller or I wouldn’t have been allowed to be a pilot.”

“Why not?”

“I wouldn’t have fit in the cockpit.”

“Oh,” Twilight said before taking a sip of her coffee. She brought forward a list of questions to ask, giving one of them a check. “What kind of humans were there? Were they like ponies?”

“In what manner? Like did some of us have wings?” Twilight nodded. “No, unfortunately we weren’t that exciting. Two arms, two legs, eight fingers and two thumbs. That’s how we all were.”

“There must have been something that separated you all.”

“Oh, there was.” Mark took a napkin to the corners of his mouth. “First and foremost would be nationality. Even with the Continental Consolidation in 2186, many people would still claim a country of origin. It gave them a sense of pride and identity. But sometimes that pride got them into trouble.”

“How so?” Twilight asked as she wrote a note in a journal before taking a popcorn kernel from a bowl.

“Centuries before I was born, prideful countries led to what was called ‘World War I.’ There are a million and a half other reasons why this war started, but a deep sense of nationalism didn’t help. It became a case of ‘My country is better than your country.’ ‘No it isn’t.’ ‘Prove it!’ And then the powder keg exploded, leaving millions dead.”

“Oh, dear,” Twilight said as she brought a hoof to her mouth. “What else set people apart?”

“Probably the most problematic was the differences in theological beliefs. It was causing human deaths at the hands of other humans since about the beginning of recorded human history.”

“They were that different?”

“Not at all.” The answer seemed to shock Twilight, as the next popped kernel fell back into the bowl. “Most of them would preach this message of ‘Everyone should get along with everyone,’ but then someone would delve too deep into the words, overthink their meanings, and go on some damned crusade in the name of their god, or gods, or whatever they believed in.”

“Oh… my,” an astounded Twilight muttered.

“And it wasn’t limited to just fighting between groups. Even people who were like-minded couldn’t seem to agree on everything. So, when diplomacy didn’t work, they fought.”

Twilight let out a disappointed sigh. “Has your race always been so prone to violence?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Mark took a drink of the ice cold milk. “When I was studying the history of warfare at the academy, I often wondered if we were genetically programmed to be violent. In the total recorded history of humanity, there were only twelve years of uninterrupted peace.” Twilight’s jaw dropped. “Things seemed to change after we discovered the secret to traveling faster than light, though.”

“How so?”

“Two reasons, in my opinion. It finally gave people the option to leave if they disagreed. The human race had been kept up on one planet for a thousand millennia, then along comes the technology that allows them to spread into the stars, find their own little place to carve out a new life with people that think the way they do, and not be questioned about it.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “I’ve heard stories of people’s great-grandparents being part of the first exodus. They described it as being liberating.”

“What’s the other reason?” Twilight asked.

“For the peace following faster than light travel? I think it has to do with everyone’s secret desire to explore space. I think just about everyone had laid on their back at some point in their life, looking toward the heavens in wonder.” Mark smiled, recalling the memory of the time with his siblings. “Too bad the peace didn’t last.”

“What happened?”

Mark took another wash of milk. “The Colonial Insurrection.” His head gave a small shake. “When the nine colonies became officially established in the 2250s, a group of renegades, based on one of the outer colony planets, I think it was, uhhh… Vesta, they began attacking supply caravans that would be going from planet to planet, stealing the ships and their goods. In response, the leaders of the nine colonies formed the beginning of the Solar Space Defense Command, and brought the colonies under one rule. Well, the insurrectionists didn’t like that too much, and decided to test the SSDC. There was a large caravan delivering precious metals from Gaia to Earth, about fifty ships in total, being escorted by the first Battlestar.”

“What was it’s name?” Twilight inquired, pouring herself another round of coffee.

“The first of her kind, the Horus, named after an ancient god whose duties included protection, among other things. Anyway, the caravan was intercepted in deep space and the insurrectionists began their attack. The Horus came between the freighters and the pirates and began launching its own fighters, or what would later be known as the Cobra-class fighter, Mark I. This was before the magnetic cannons were installed on the Battlestars, and before kinetic rounds were standard issue on Cobras.” Twilight’s head gave a tilt of confusion. “Another story for another day.

“All the SSDC force had were guided missiles, but so did the insurrectionists. But the one thing that the SSDC and the convoy had was a plan in case of a pirate attack. So the pirates are here,” Mark extended a balled fist, “and the convoy is sitting here,” another clinched fist came out, a few feet away from the other and slightly lower, “and the Horus is between them. The plan was that the Horus would come about,” he released the fist representing the convoy, making a flat palm facing the pirate’s position, “exposing her top side to the attacking force, while the convoy fell in under her. The idea was to give the freighters a shield while the Cobras engaged the enemy combatants.”

“And how did that go?” she added cream and sugar to her cup.

“Surprisingly well. Not a single freighter or fighter was lost that day. The Horus held well to multiple warhead impacts, just as it was designed to do. Unfortunately for the insurrectionists, they took heavy losses; only a couple of ships escaped when they decided to cut and run. And it was some time before they were ever heard from again. Until then, the success of the Horus had spurred the growth of the SSDC fleet. Forty years after the Horus, in 2295, the Caprica was commissioned into service, and twenty years after that, I was born into the universe. Twenty years after that… I don’t think I need to mention what started.”

“No,” Twilight put a hoof on his shoulder, “No you don’t. You’ve already explained enough about that today.”

“Thanks,” Mark didn’t know what else to say. He finished off the remaining milk before looking to Twilight’s coffee pot. “Got any of that left?”

“Plenty. Want a cup?” He nodded, “How do you take it?”

“Just black,” She gave him a look that said Are you serious? “I know, I know, I’m weird like that.”

“To each his own,” she happily said as she poured another cup. The night continued with questions ranging from “What games did humans play?” to more personal questions of “What kind of hobbies do you have?” and the like.

“So you know about me,” Mark said as the Sun began to crest over the mountains. “What can you tell me about Equestria?”

“Well that’s a tale all on its own, and too long for me to tell in one sitting, but I’m sure I have a history book or two that you’re more than welcome to read.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Mark stood, walking to the glass doors before opening them and stepping outside, “I can bring down some reading material from the Caprica’s onboard library. Figured they do a better job at teaching Earth’s history than I can. Also can bring back a variety of works of fiction, including the classics.”

Twilight’s eyes grew wide with excitement. “You have a library??”

“Indeed. Most of it is a collection of non-fiction and scientific articles since the Caprica was a ship of scientific research, after all. But over the years other texts began making their way in. Adventure tales, murder mysteries, fantasy sagas… you name it, we probably have it.”

A unicorn guard knocked on the door before stepping out. “Your highness, Rarity and Fluttershy have arrived to visit.”

“Of course. Send them out here.” A few moments passed before the glass doors opened again, revealing Rarity and Fluttershy. “Good morning, girls. Slept well?”

“Just about as well as I usually do after one of Pinkie’s parties.” Rarity replied. “And what about yourselves?”

“Haven’t slept yet,” the princess said. “Mark has been telling me stories about his people and about himself.”

“Oh, dear,” Fluttershy said with her mane draped over an eye, “you two must be awfully tired.”

“Mark’s stories have been fascinating. He just told me he has a library on his ship!”

“Well, technically, it’s all just stored on the computer’s memory banks, but I’m betting Des will beam me down all of them. If you’ll excuse me.” Mark bowed before making his way to the Hopper on the ground below.

Rarity waited for Mark to exit the room and walk out of earshot. “Spending the night with him already, I see?”

Twilight’s cheeks flushed. “Not in that way.”

Rarity giggled. “I’m sorry! I was merely jesting, darling. But you do seem more comfortable around him now.”

“Yes, I’ve learned a great deal about him and his people just overnight. I can’t wait to read the history texts he’s bringing back.”

Fluttershy’s gaze had followed Mark all the way out the door, and her eyes waited for him to exit the main entrance. “He seems lonely.”

“I have no doubt that he is,” Rarity answered to Fluttershy, “We can only imagine what it would be like to lose your entire species. And as Celestia said, it is quite unfathomable.”

“To lose everyone you have ever known… it breaks my heart just thinking about it,” Twilight added. “Which is why it’s most important that we make him feel welcome here. I have a suspicion that he isn’t fully over his loss.”

Fluttershy’s eyes tracked Mark as he trekked just outside the castle. “If he isn’t, he sure is placing a thick mental block around it,” she heard Rarity say. “How do you even begin to get through it?”

“I don’t know.” Twilight moved to pour another cup of coffee. “But every time I bring up something about the Dridens, he seems to skirt the question or give the barest amount of information.”

“I’m sure he’ll open up when he feels comfortable with it. It’s not everyday that you stumble upon an entirely new species.”

“I bet his favorite color is green,” Fluttershy said, hanging on the balcony railing.

“How do you figure?” Twilight asked.

“He’s been through so much destruction, and green is the color of all things living.” She came down from the railing and turned to the other two ponies. “I get that feeling from him.” She saw Mark enter the Hopper hatch.

“Are you developing your own kind of Pinkie sense?” Twilight said with a small chuckle. “The ‘Flutter Sense’?”

“Maybe,” Fluttershy returned with a smile.

“Hey Des,” Mark said into the headset.

A screen flicked on, tuning to Des’s face. “Hey Mark. Miss me already?”

“You know it.” A grin escaped from the corner of his mouth. “Hey I was wondering if you could send down all the digital copies of all the works of fiction, non-fiction, articles, research notes… basically anything that’s in the library files.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Mark could see the streams of information flow. “Got some readers, do you?”

“Yes I do. You should have seen the eyes on Twilight when I told her the Caprica has her own library. She lit up like a fireworks display on Colonization Day.”

“Hah, I had her figured for a book worm.” A bright strand of data ran past. “Okay, I’ve compiled the works, but they’re all in English. You want me to translate them? Shouldn’t take very long.”

“That would be great.” A moment of silence passed. “So how are things going up there?”

“Not bad. Though it would be nice to have someone to talk to and to fine-tune some of the other equipment that I can’t quite get to.”

Mark gave a hum. “Okay. Send me a report. I’ll be up here in a week or so to give it all a look.”

“Will do.” The console gave a beep. “Package sent.”

“Info received,” he said as he typed in commands to send it to a tablet, “I’ll run through this and talk to you tomorrow.”

Mark had gone through the technical issues with the Caprica over the course of the day. He joined Twilight during dinner. “So most of it is just a bunch of mechanical maintenance that Des can’t do,” he said, “I could probably get most of it done in a day.”

“When did you plan on going back up?” Twilight asked, her focus never breaking as she looked through a stack of notes while eating.

“Sometime tomorrow morning. Should probably get some actual sleep first.” Mark ran a hand over his short hair. “I, uh… was curious if you and your friends would want to join me.”

Twilight had been changing papers when the comment made her stop. When she turned, her eyes became as wide as the dinner plates that had been set before them, “Us… go… space?”

“Something along those lines, yes.”

Twilight jumped with joy, a small spark escaping her horn. “Are you kidding!? That’s only been my dream since I was a filly!”

“I couldn’t tell,” he said with a grin.

She squinted her face at the sarcastic comment. “Oh! I need to write the other princesses and tell them I’m going to space! No, wait, I need to write the girls first and tell them. But I need to make a packing list. Do I need to bring much? What does one bring to space?”

“Hey, don’t forget to breathe.” Twilight’s ramble ceased as she took a breath. “‘Kay. First, you don’t need to bring anything. Second, we should probably ask the others if they want to go, though I highly suspect they will. Third, I suggest you hold off on that letter. That way you can include the trip as a surprise in your grand report about me.”

“A most excellent idea!” She turned to a nearby server. “Excuse me, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could summon a messenger for me?”

“At once, your majesty. ‘Tis no trouble at all.” The server trotted off.

Mark brought a napkin across his lips. “Sure can tell you’re brand new in your new role. Asking people to do things instead of ordering them.”

“I was never the bossy type,” she admitted. “I think I would feel like a huge donkey if I started commanding ponies to do things for me.”

“You summoned me, your highness?” A light blue pegasus with the cutie mark of a letter with wings entered the dining area.

“Yes, I need you to deliver a personal message to the other Elements.”

A Day in History

“Good morning, ladies and Spike. We’d like to take this moment to thank you for flying Marcus Frude airways,” Mark said over the noise of the systems booting up in the Hopper. “We’d like to remind all passengers to keep their hands, hooves, wings, and horns in the cabin at all times. The emergency exit is the way you came in, and there will be no meal service on this flight. We’re looking at about a twenty minute flight today, so sit back, relax, and enjoy the trip.” Mark gave his headset a slight adjustment. “You there, Des?”

“For you, sir, always,” he heard her reply in his ear.

“Alrighty, we are about to start heading your way.”

“Acknowledged. Better start here in the next couple minutes or you’ll miss the window.”

“Solid copy,” Mark said as he pressed a few buttons, “We’re on our way up.” He looked over his shoulder. “Hang on, things might be a little bumpy.” Turning back, they began their ascent.

The six ponies sat as comfortably as they could in the open area behind the pilot, doing their best to strap themselves in with the belts. Spike insisted he sit in the navigator’s seat. “Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh! This is going to be so awesome!” he nearly screamed into his own headset, unable to hold his zeal in anymore.

“Haven’t seen anything yet.” Mark gave him a glance. “Just wait ‘til we break the ionosphere. Then things get weird.”

The Hopper began its flight toward the sky, flying above the clouds in less than thirty seconds. The sound of a nervous clatter of teeth made its way through Mark’s earpiece. “Doing okay back there?” he asked, swiveling his head to see his passengers.

“Just about as well as we can!” Applejack shouted, holding a very shaky Fluttershy. The others were being rattled in the harnesses, noticeably uncomfortable.

“We’re about halfway past the worst of the turbulence, then it should be smooth sailing.” A few minutes of flying passed before the Hopper broke into the stratosphere, bringing the bumps to a halt. “There we go. Shouldn’t be too rough now.”

“We’re really high up,” Dash said, observing the ground through the small window on the hatch. “What would happen if we opened the door up here?”

“You sure you wanna know?” She enthusiastically nodded. “There’s not enough air or pressure up here to be able to breathe. We’d suffocate.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that answer.

“Yep. So as long as the hatch stays shut, we’ll be fine.” There was an awkward silence that lasted until the sky changed from blue to black, revealing the morning sun’s true brightness. “Feel free to move about the cabin if you want. Just try not to push any buttons.” Mark heard the clicks of belts being unfastened before hearing gasps. “Oh, yeah. We’re also gonna be weightless until we get to the ship, so… that’ll be a thing ‘til we get there.”

Spike unfastened his harness to join his other friends in the newfound weightlessness of space. He heard their laughter as his precious cargo relished the new experience. “Is this what it’s like to fly?” Applejack asked.

“Kinda,” he heard Dash answer, “but with a bit more--” the familiar sound of a head hitting the ceiling made Mark huff with a laugh, “--Ow! A bit more control.”

A moment later Twilight awkwardly managed to fill the co-pilot’s seat, flapping her wings with limited effect and hitting Mark with her tail several times. For a moment, Mark thought she was going to faint as she looked back at the planet. “Wow… it’s so…”

“Amazing? Beautiful? Blue?” Mark attempted to finish her statement.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” she said. “And the world… it’s so…”

“Big?”

“Exactly. I can see everything.” She squinted and looked away as the light from the Sun moved out from behind the beam holding the glass in place. “Well, almost everything.”

Mark noticed her hiding from the light. “Sun’s a bit brighter up here without the atmosphere to filter out the light. We usually wear helmets with special filters when flying in a star system.” The light shifted as the Hopper banked, and Twilight’s gaze returned back to the ground. “Kinda makes you feel tiny, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s quite humbling. Everypony and everything I’ve ever known is down there.”

“I felt the same way on my first exoatmospheric flight.” His eyes drifted up, “And there’s everything I’ve ever known.” Mark pointed to the now visible Caprica. “Right on time.”

Four other sets of eyes moved forward to view the rapidly growing vessel. “Des, this is Shocker. We’re on final approach.”

“Copy, Shocker,” Des responded, “Deck is clear, cross-traffic is secure, and no exiting vehicles. You are green for bow-approach hands-on landing on the port landing pod. Call the ball.”

“Solid copy. I have the ball.” The lights on the deck began to blink, “There’s a force field that keeps the vacuum of space out. When we pass through it, you’re gonna feel a bump, and we’ll be in the Caprica’s artificial gravity,” he heard a series of hooves steady themselves on the base of the cabin, “Breaking the field barrier in five seconds--” a bump “--and we’re in.” An unoccupied landing area among the row of other Hoppers began to flash red. The craft spun ninety degrees, hovering above the marked zone before setting down. “All ashore!” he called out as the hatch opened.

“Nice flying,” Dash commented as the party began to step down from the Hopper.

“Thanks. It’s a favorite hobby of mine,” Mark said with a grin. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he started as he hopped off the craft, “I’d like to welcome you to the Battlestar: Caprica, or as I like to call her… home, sweet home. Feel free to roam.” Curious eyes began darting from the deck up toward the ceiling bulkhead, observing anything worthy of grabbing their attention. “Also, welcome to space.”

Des’ form materialized on the landing strip. “Welcome back, captain. Landing number nine hundred thirty-four.”

“So close,” he muttered.

“Close to what?” Twilight asked.

“The coveted thousandth landing,” he started to explain. “It was once a tradition that when it happens, most ship operations stop and we celebrate.”

“It’s that rare?” Dash inquired.

“Not really. Once upon a time, it was. Now it was more of a milestone for tradition’s sake. Most of mine came during the Driden invasion, running recon pickets and patrols.”

“I should have counted all mine,” Dash added.

“Knowing you, you’d be well over a thousand by now,” Twilight said.

Applejack gave a huff of a laugh. “‘Course that’d depend if ya count crash landings or not.”

The group all shared a laugh before Mark looked to Dash. “Hey, any landing you can walk away from is a landing in my book.”

“Des, good to see you again,” Twilight said to the hologram. “How are you today?”

“All is fair--” a screen formed in front of her “--though I wish your visit would have been under better circumstances.” Des noted the others’ stares. “Oh, uh… by the way, I’m Des, ship’s A.I.”

Pinkie Pie trotted up. “Ooooohhh… shiny!”

Rarity, too, seemed fascinated with Des’s glowing figure. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, and I sincerely do not mean to be prude, but… might I ask who, or… what, are you?”

“Basically,” Mark called out from the other side of the Hopper, “a really, really, really advanced computer program than can learn, and refract light in a way to have a visual form.”

“Mark explained her to me the other night.” Twilight walked over to Des. “Think of her like another person, but not able to interact physically like you and I would.”

Mark came around from the Hopper, hauling a hose before attaching it to the craft. “Some have even ventured to say that she’s the soul of the Caprica.”

Des gave a toothy grin. “A soul isn’t so easily transferrable, or capable at running large numbers of computations while keeping a Battlestar in orbit without its crew.”

“Well mine isn’t, anyway. I’m just a dumb pilot, according to my sister.”

“Hey, Mark,” Dash shouted from the other side of the landing tarmac, “what’s all this stuff?”

He quickly walked over to where Dash was hovering. “This is just a tool storage area and diagnostics bay. Tells the technicians which bird needs attention, what needs to be fixed, and what tools to fix it with.”

“Speaking of birds, which one of these tin cans is yours?” she asked as she pointed to the nearest Cobra. “This one?”

Mark shook his head. “No, this one belonged to First Lieutenant Chieverre, callsign ‘Deadeye.’” He pointed to the nameplate below the cockpit. “That’s what this says here.”

During Rainbow’s question, Fluttershy had come to join them. “Why did you call them a different name than their given name?”

“‘Deadeye’ is easier to say and to remember in battle than Lieutenant Chieverre… and because he was the worst at shooting on the ship.”

Dash looked confused. “I thought a deadeye was a good shot.”

“These callsigns can also be ironic. Take in point--” he stepped two Cobras down, “--‘High Life.’ Probably the most reclusive person I’d ever met.” They continued down the row. “Some people’s call signs denote where they’re from, like mine. I’m called ‘Shocker’ because I grew up in a primarily wheat-growing area, and the people who used to bundle wheat behind a harvester were called ‘shockers.’”

“Whatdaya think my call sign would be?”

Mark gave the pegasus a look-over. “Ya know, ‘Dash’ suits you, so I think you would luck out.” A quick beeping came from the Hopper. “Ah, shit,” Mark grunted before running back over.

“What’s wrong?” Twilight called to a frantically running Mark.

“I was refueling the Hopper when I got caught up in old thoughts.” He disconnected the hose. “Melancholy can be a slippery slope sometimes.” He moved to the hose reel, setting it to auto-roll. “Des, I need our list of things to do,” he said as he reached for a nearby tablet.

The day of repairs and a thousand questions from the ponies led them everywhere from the flight pod to the hydroponic farm, the crew lounge, the library (much to Twilight’s excitement), pilot’s quarters, eventually ending on the bridge. “So, that’s basically it, at least the exciting parts. I’m sure you don’t want to see the lavatories or the gym.”

The ponies had scattered throughout the bridge, investigating the individual systems. “It’s a mighty fine vessel you have,” Twilight said from the communications station.

“Aye, she's a grand ol' lady,” Mark said as he admired the once again occupied bridge. Pinkie Pie stood at the center navigation console, seemingly fascinated with the ability to manipulate objects on the touchscreens. Applejack had moved into damage control, doing her best to make any sense of the red and green lights displayed. Rarity and Des stood at the sensor controls, the latter showing the former a visual image of the planet below. Fluttershy stared at the tactical station, giving Mark a gut feeling she knew what it was for. Dash and Spike were looking over the helm while Twilight managed to don a communications headset.

Do you think… Mark began to think. Nah… there’s no way.

Don’t sell yourself so short, he heard a presence in his mind say. A flash appeared in the center of the room, leaving the strangest creature Mark had ever seen in its wake. “Fluttershy! When you told me you were going on a trip, you neglected to tell me you were going off-world!”

“Uhh…” Mark began to say. “Intruder alert?”

“Hello, Discord.” Fluttershy trotted to the hodgepodge creature. “I’m sorry. If I would have known this is where we were going, I would have told you.”

Mark cleared his throat. “Ah, so this is the bringer of Disharmony.”

Discord’s unsettling eyes found their way to Mark. “And you must be the one who gave me the latest magic imbalance tremor.”

Mark’s left eyebrow shot upward. “Come again?”

Five days ago

Celestia and Discord stood in the dying light of the day. “I honestly think it would look better if it showed Twilight overpowering Tirek with that friendship cannon she used,” Discord commented on the newest stain-glass installment in the throne hall.

“These are meant to tell stories to the future generations, not to be read like some silly comic book,” Celestia replied, growing weary of Discord’s “suggestions.” A wheeze came from the draconequus, but as she turned to face him, the last of Discord’s spasms had already ceased. “Are you well?”

“Yes. I, just, well…” Celestia noticed he seemed to be at a loss for words. “I can’t explain what just happened.”

“You looked to be having one of your magical imbalance tremors again.”

“Yes, but this one was different.” He shook his head. “Usually I can pinpoint the source of the imbalance, but this time, it simply came and went.”

“Perhaps this wasn’t a magic shift at all. It is getting late after all.”

“Perhaps,” a visibly frustrated Discord added. “It’s just irritating when I don’t know where this tremor came from. Now I know what it’s like to be Twilight, not knowing the answers all the time. It’s terrifying.”

Present day

“Intriguing,” Mark said as Discord finished his story, “but I fail to see what this has to do with me or my ship.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re out of place here,” Rarity suggested.

“Possibly.” Twilight rose from her console. “It would explain why Discord only felt the shift of power for only an instant, then nothing, but the tremor continued.”

“But more to the point: Just what manner of creature are you?” Discord asked Mark.

“I’m a human. I’d ask the same to you, but I don’t think you could give me just one answer.” Mark said as he gave Discord a head-to-toe lookover.

“He’s a draconequus,” Fluttershy answered, “and he’s very sweet when you get to know him.”

“Hmmm…” Mark’s hand found his chin. “So I’m guessing you’re a magic user as well?”

“Only one of the best,” Discord snapped his fingers, and suddenly there were multiple copies of himself running around the bridge, reading instruments and commanding input screens. This is what you want, isn’t it? Discord’s voice rang throughout Mark’s mind, A return to normalcy? Back to the way things were? He stopped his mental speech when his copies started to look to him in confusion. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he walked to the helm copy.

The copycat helmsman pressed the screen interface control, only returning buzzes from the console. “Mind explaining what’s going on?”

“You’ve been locked out of all the command consoles--” Des materialized on the bridge “--and I’m the only one that can unlock it.”

All of the copies vanished in a brilliant flash of white light, and a spasm went through his multi-creature body. “There it is again. A tremble without a feeling of magic. That means…” He eyed Des. “It has to be you.” Discord slithered to where Des stood. “What are you, glowing so brilliant and blue?”

“I’m Des, ship’s A.I..” She folded her arms. “Do please be so kind as to ask permission before touching any systems. You could have unintentionally sent us spiraling out of control and burning us up in the atmosphere.”

“Oh, well we can’t have that. My apologies. But I will have to keep my eyes on you. You are… something else.” The ponies in the room were almost dumbfounded by the serious tone of Discord. “Where are my manners. Welcome to Equus!” Another snap of his fingers left a lit cigar in Mark’s mouth. “I’m sure you’ve already had the complimentary Pinkie Pie party.”

“Well, duh!” Pinkie exclaimed.

“Unfortunately I couldn’t attend. Twilight gave me a royal decree to make sure that Tirek would never again leave Tartarus.” he turned to the princess. “And I’m happy to report that it will be a very long time before he’ll ever stand another chance of escaping.”

“How long?” Twilight inquired.

“About the lifespan of an alicorn, with the occasional touch-up or two.”

“Well done, Discord,” she praised. “You’ve done the great service of protecting future generations.”

Mark remembered the story of Tirek from the night before. He remembered Twilight telling of his conquest through Equestria, absorbing the magic from all who crossed his path. He had also devised at least fifty-seven different solutions during the night that would have put an immediate end to Tirek. He took a long draw of the cigar, tasting mellow flavors of leather and tangy wood notes, with a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon, before blowing a perfect smoke circle. “Why didn’t you just kill him?”

Eight heads quickly snapped to stare at the lone human. “Because we are NOT the barbarians you are!” Rarity snipitly responded. “We believe in redemption and reformation, like for our dear Discord here.”

“So I was told.” Mark took another drag before removing the cigar and holding it between two fingers, “Still, it feels like you’re only delaying a problem, not solving it.”

An eyebrow raised on Twilight. “Oh? And just how would you solve the problem with Tirek?”

“One unguided rocket-propelled high-explosive ordnance via Cobra delivery.” He took another drag, blowing the smoke on the lit cherry. “By the way you make great cigars.”

“Doesn’t that seem a bit excessive?” she asked.

“Not really. It’d probably leave a smaller crater than the ones you did.”

“You do realize he had his own magic, right?” An instruction manual was pulled out from beneath the console in Twilight’s magic. “Telekinesis is a basic level spell. He would have caught this missile and turned it against you.”

“I don’t believe so. You didn’t know what a missile was until two days ago. And I have Rule of Engagement number sixteen on my side.”

“Which says…”

“‘Your enemy cannot defend against an attack they are not expecting.’” Mark pointed with the ashes in Discord’s general direction, and an ash tray appeared on the nearby star chart. Laying the cigar down, he continued. “Attack from the direction of the sun, launch and leave, and confirm your kill. Done and done, back in time for drinks at the bar.”

A belch and gout of green flame came from Spike, forming into a scroll. The rolled paper was quickly snatched up by Twilight. “I’ve been summoned to Canterlot for a meeting of the princesses tomorrow.” She continued down the note. “Cadance will be there… growing tension in the Griffon Kingdom… be prepared to travel?” She lowered the parchment. “What does that mean?”

“Sounds like one of you is going to play diplomat.” He reached for the cigar. “Rule of Engagement number thirty-seven: ‘To fully know a situation, get boots on the ground.’”

“It’s gettin’ mighty late,” Applejack commented. “We should start headin’ back soon.”

“Indeed,” Twilight agreed. “Discord, if it’s not too much to ask, can we get a teleport back to my castle?”

“No problem at all,” he replied with a bow.

“All except me,” Mark added. “I’m gonna hang around for a while.”

“As you wish.” A snap of a finger, and the ponies disappeared in a flash. Discord remained, however. “Between you and me,” he gave Mark an elbow nudge in his ribs, “I liked your solution better.”

“I don’t think they did.”

“Oh, pah, they’d be lying if they said the thought didn’t cross their mind during Tirek’s rampage. It crossed mine when he stole my magic.” A flash came off his body, and he now wore an old timey pilot’s outfit, complete with scarf, goggles, leather jacket and boots. “But I’ll be off to leave you in your memories and thoughts. Oh, and by the way--” the sound of a single-engine prop plane came from Discord as he hovered in air. “--you should ask Celestia about that thought you had. She can be a very progressive leader… sometimes.” And with one last flash, Mark stood alone with Des.

“Well,” Des started, “that was a thing.”

“Quite.”

Post-Equus arrival, day 97
04:56 hours

The first rays of the day had yet to break the horizon, and Mark had already risen from his bed. Wonder what I won’t be doing today, he thought to himself as he moved to his bathroom. More boring reading, more boring strolls around Ponyville and seeing all the sights for the nthtime.

Mark’s morning routine had now become wake, shower, say hello to the commander of Twilight’s night watch, eat breakfast, say hello to Twilight when she woke, then go to the library and read… and read, and read, and read. Often times he would see a guard of the night’s watch pass through the hallways, greeting them as they passed. Occasionally one would converse with him, sometimes leading Mark to tell entire stories of battles he had fought. One morning an entire platoon had gathered just to hear how his previous carrier, the Maelstrom, had escorted a convoy of war supplies while fending off a single Driden carrier.

“Three of the eleven freighters were actually empty. They were about to be decommissioned and scrapped for their parts and alloys. We were doing our best to keep the carrier and her fighters bracketed, but there were too many. When we had lost two freighters, Commander Grenald came up with an ingenious solution. We would evacuate the crew of one of the empty ships and remote pilot it into the carrier’s hangar, smashing it into pieces.

“Now some of you may be asking why would we burn one of our own. Driden fighters are small, relatively slow for their size, and lightly armed. They just had a LOT of them. So when one would run out of ammunition, another would launch, the other would land and be rearmed, and rejoin the fight. This cycle of one in, one out was one of the things the Dridens did well. So, the order was given, a Hopper was dispatched to retrieve the crew, and it was remotely driven into the hangar. We could see the bright orange explosions silhouetted against the Maelstrom, and we knew the freighter had hit its mark. The Maelstrom’s flak cannons and remaining fighters mopped up the rest of the Dridens, and we safely landed and jumped away.”

During the second month, Mark almost had a mental breakdown because of his boredom before Twilight suggested supplemental work on the Apple family orchard. It wasn’t a hard pitch for Mark to make to Applejack, who welcomed any kind of additional assistance. He didn’t necessarily consider the work “hard,” but there was some physical strain and lifting, and the manual work made him feel useful. But there was always something biting at the back of his mind.

He wasn’t a farmer, he was a soldier, through-and-through; bred from soldiers, raised by soldiers, and trained by soldiers. Every memory he could recall involved the SSDC in some way, whether it was indirectly with his family, or when he went through his time at the academy.

This particular morning Mark was scheduled to speak with Celestia for his official integration into Equestria as a full-fledged citizen. It was also the day for the weekly brief on the status of the Caprica. His walk to the Hopper was nothing more than uneventful, passing the guards coming in for the day watch. The sun was beginning its rise over the eastern mountains, its first light striking the tallest spire of Twilight’s castle as Mark reached the Hopper. When the hatch opened, he was surprised to hear the repetitive beeping, signifying an incoming transmission. He pressed a button after hastily donning a headset. “Hey, Des. How are things up there?”

“Not good, captain,” she replied with a detectable tone of worry. “We’ve had an issue come up.” a schematic of the drive appeared on a screen in front of him. “Remember when we thought that the slipspace drives were not functional?”

“Yeah. You said that they had been destroyed due to the shearing of the jump here.”

“Well… that’s technically still true.” A blue line began to blink, “Power is still being fed into the drives, but the drives themselves aren’t responding like they should. They’re taking the power and charging for a jump, but then they stop, and the power vanishes as as the slipspace field collapses. It’s putting a strain on the main power supply, and is affecting sublight.”

“What’s your orbital situation?”

“Steady… for now.” another image came up, showing the orbital pattern of the Caprica. “But I'm concerned about the slipspace drives. If even one of them should ever reach a full charge, they just might jump, and not necessarily take the ship with it.”

“Send me the detailed notes of what has happened, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Mark!” he heard Twilight call down, “We’re going to be late for the train!”

“My research into humanity was insightful, yet notably uneventful. Mark has been bringing down the accumulated works in the Caprica’s library for me to study, as well as taking us up on one occasion. To spare you a lavish explanation, humans and ponies are similar in many ways. Sure, they may have had a longer history of violence, but when they gained the ability to go faster than the speed of light, all that seemed to change.” Celestia listened with great anticipation as Twilight delivered her report. “The only notable flare up of violence since that time are the Dridens and this group called the ‘Colonial Insurrectionists.’”

“Basically, pirates,” Mark explained.

“I see,” Celestia said.

“Mark’s military record is near perfect in performance and punctuality,” Twilight continued, “except for one incident aboard a ship called the Thor’s Hammer. Says here you engaged in a physical altercation with a fellow pilot.”

Mark gave a small laugh, remembering the incident. “The pilot in question was making certain unwanted advances to a female officer, so I punched him.”

“He could not be reasoned with?” Celestia asked.

“He was pretty drunk, and wasn’t taking ‘No’ for an answer.”

“Ah,” was all Celestia could say, slightly amused by the short story. “Very well. I see no reason why we cannot allow you to become a citizen of Equestria.” Her steward levitated a paper before Mark, to which he quickly signed his name. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, your highness.” Mark gave a shallow bow. “As a citizen, my first request is to join the ranks of the Equestrian Navy.”

Celestia was taken in surprise. “That is an odd first request, but it is granted nevertheless. And I grant you your former rank of Captain, given your previous military career and experience in the field.”

“Thank you. Now that that’s out of the way,” Mark took a step toward the throne, “I present to you, and to the ponies of Equestria, the Type 271-BXR Battlestar: Caprica.”

If their jawbones hadn’t been contained in their cheeks, Celestia and Twilight would have had to go scurrying after theirs had hit the floor. “You are giving us your ship!?” Celestia asked in flustered disbelief. “Why?”

“I received a troubling message from Des just this very morning. Something has happened on board, and... well, we require assistance.”

Celestia looked to Twilight. “So what do you require of us?” Twilight asked.

“I, myself, do not require anything,” Mark said. “It’s the Caprica that needs something. She needs a crew.”

Trial By Fire

Post-Equus arrival, day 116
03:16, local time
West Griffon Kingdom shore

I hate the beach, one fleeing Griffon thought to herself as she saw the group of the other Griffons gathered below. Her father had shown her the location on a map before Grayclaw grunts broke down their door. He dove at the invading Griffons, tackling the one on point. “RUN!” he screamed. She didn’t remember flying up the stairs and out the window, flying toward the western shore… before doubling back and flying over her home. She spotted a cloud not too far away and landed, observing the chaos below.

It was happening everywhere. Doors were being kicked from their frames, screaming families were being pushed out into the streets before being loaded into carts. She spotted her home, a small but well-maintained brick house, and the Griffon that was being dragged by the scruff of his neck. He was led to the middle of the street before the Grayclaw threw him down to the ground. “Where did you send her!?” one asked.

She couldn’t make out what her father had said in reply, but it was something they didn’t want to hear. A barrage of nightsticks came down onto him, causing her to cower and shut her eyes. She could still hear the wooden batons coming down on her father. Pop, pop, pop, they said, until they all abruptly stopped. She opened her eyes to see her father laying down… unmoving.

“Get up,” she quietly said. “Get up… please.”

He didn’t. A call went to a Griffon in the cart, who brought over a body bag. Her late father was quickly placed inside, the barricade of Grayclaws still surrounding the scene.

It took everything in her power to not immediately swoop down from her cloud and begin to fight every single one of them. She gritted her beak and felt the feathers and hair stand on her back. She was going down there, and there was nothing that would stop her. She looked up into the starry night as she prepared to leap… when she noticed an out-of-place star in a familiar constellation.

Only few knew that she was a secret amateur astronomer at heart. It was her father that first showed her the joy of stargazing. “And that one is the mighty Heracule, slayer of great beasts and freer of Griffons. Next to him is his wife, Salera, the Keeper. And, above us--” he pointed up, “--a very special constellation.”

“And who would that be, da?” she said, already bored with the nights lesson.

“Your mother.” She pointed her beak skyward. “She’s in the stars every night, for you… to tell you ‘Goodnight.’”

A tear formed in the corner of her eye as she recalled the memory. She quickly wiped it away, looking back at the group of stars and the new invader. It shone somewhat brighter, twinkling as the others did. “What are you?” she quietly asked.

A break of another door snapped her back to the chaos down below. Her rage had subsided with the flood of the memory, and she remembered the spot on the map her father had shown. She took off, hoping that she would be able to find it.

Twenty minutes of flying later, she found her target. It had been lit by torches, and she could see the gathered Griffons were being hurried toward a waiting airship. She landed just in time to see the crew beginning to release the moorings. “Whoa there, miss.” An official-looking Griffon approached her. “We need to see your claws.” She shifted her weight back to her back legs, exposing her claws. “Okay, you can board the ship. Can I get a name for the manifest?” A word tried to come out of her throat, but barely made it past the frog that was already there. “I’m sorry, could you say that again?”

“Gilda.”

He made a note. “Climb aboard.” She took flight again, landing on the deck. A long whistle sounded, and the crew members on the ground flew onto the deck, mooring lines in their claws. It slowly spun and moved forward, flying over the great ocean.

I hate the sea, she thought, looking instead to the sea of stars.

Post-Equus arrival, day 116
13:58, local time
Caprica

“Status,” Mark called out.

Steel Hoof, supposed to have been relieved four hours ago, still manned the sensor readouts. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “The first airships should be making landfall any time now. Their altitudes have fallen to less than fifty meters.”

“Do we know where they’re going to land?”

“I think they’re aiming for Central Park, sir.”

Mark was mid-sip of his coffee when Steel Hoof gave his answer. “You think, or you know?”

Steel Hoof adjusted a setting on his scope. “I am positive they are going to land in the Park, sir.”

“Don’t make a guess when lives are on the line, cadet. Always be sure.”

“Aye, sir.”

“They’d still be pretty exposed to an aerial assault. Will it be enough?” Spitfire turned from the surface chart to ask.

“It’s going to have to be. I told Twilight to move them further into the city for their protection, but we might have to move to them ourselves.” He sighed. “I just hope it will be enough.”

“Captain,” Steel Hoof said, both captains turning to face him, “the first airship is down.”

“Very well. Comms, get me Sparkle.”

His headset crackled. “This is Twilight.”

“Princess, what is your position?”

“About twenty minutes out. The conductor said he’s pushing the engine as hard as he can. We’ve sent a message ahead of us, and the local Guard is ready to go wherever they land.”

“I need you to send another message. The first airship has already landed, and the pursuing Grayclaws have picked up a good eastern wind with the morning heat and are rapidly approaching. Time is against us now.”

Post-Equus arrival, day 116
09:01, local time
Twenty minutes outside Manehattan

“Can you not get there in time?”

“We moved the ship.” a brief moment of static came through Twilight’s headset. “You’ll get there before we even reach the atmosphere, but we’re prepping a Hopper right now. It’ll be close to an hour before we set down. Tell the commander of the guard they’re landing in Central Park.”

“Hurry down. Twilight out.” The rail car Twilight and her friends were currently occupying shook as it travelled, the scenery moving past the window at almost blinding speeds. The cityscape itself could be seen in the distance. She reclined in her seat as she sat back from her desk. “Dash, I need you to do something.”

“What’s up, Twi?” Rainbow Dash hovered over to her desk.

She took a quill and quickly scribbled a note on a scroll before sealing it. “I need you to deliver this message to whomever is in charge… as fast as you can. You have my permission to break the sonic barrier.”

Rainbow Dash gave a salute. “I’m on it, ma’am!” She took the scroll in her teeth, opened the door leading to the next car, and took off. Dash’s rainbow trail streaked toward the skyline before it erupted into a sonic rainboom. At any other time it would have been a glorious sight to see, but the minds of the ponies in the cart were elsewhere.

“Do ya really think there’ll be a fight?” Applejack asked.

“I hope not, but Mark thought it safe not to take a chance.” Twilight sifted the papers on her desk, most of them detailing the rumors of alleged events in the Kingdom. “He told me of a similar event among his people several hundred years ago. Well, one of them anyway. There were more than one instances of genocide in human history.”

“By the stars…” Rarity gasped. “They really were barbarians. And now he has brought his blood lust here.”

“Rarity, I’m positive Mark has no intention of starting a war.” The train hit a bump, shaking the car and rattling their individual Element regalia that had already been equipped. “If he had, he would have already tried by now.”

“I hope, for all ponies’ sake, you’re right,” said Rarity as they all felt the train begin to slow.

So do I, the princess thought.

14:19, Griffon Kingdom time
Caprica

Why does trouble always seem to follow me? Mark stood at the chart, observing the displayed positions of the airships. The early morning easterly winds had pushed the pursuing Grayclaws to within strike-flight distance, according to Spitfire. But when the first Goldclaw airboat landed, the Grayclaw chasers did the same, just twenty-five kilometers offshore. That’s when Spitfire told Mark of alleged Griffon strategy. “So they use the boats like they would a carrier?”

“That was always the rumor anyway.” Spitfire said as they observed the airship’s positions. “The last time that pony and Griffon engaged in a fight was around the first coming of Nightmare Moon.”

A unicorn from the communications relay picked up her head from the console. “Five minutes, and the Hopper will be ready.”

“Very well.” Mark pressed a button, changing the screen back to the Griffon Kingdom. “What’s the report on the princess?”

“Little has changed,” Spitfire answered. “Thermal scans show that the number of Griffons around her has increased, and that she’s been moved to a different part of the compound.”

Mark took the open palms of his hands and brought them to his eyes, giving them a vigorous rub. “Well, that’s just dandy, isn’t it?”

“Aye, sir. I believe we now have a hostage situation.”

Several pony ears overheard Spitfire, turning concerned faces to her. “Or at least that’s what it looks like.” Mark quickly spurted out. “If she has been taken captive she can probably just blast her way out.”

“Unless she’s been fitted with a magic inhibitor,” the unicorn at the comms station said.

“It is a possibility.” Spitfire added.

Mark looked over to the unicorn, a mare with an almost sky blue coat, sapphire eyes that reminded him of Rarity’s, and a short-cropped silver mane. “Name, cadet.”

“Silver Star, sir.” The mare turned, giving Mark a view of her cutie mark; a quad-cluster of five-pointed stars, all silver in color. “I bet you didn’t know magic inhibitors existed.”

“There’s a lot of things I still don’t know about this world. What are these inhibitors?”

“It’s basically an enchanted ring that fits over the horn of a unicorn, or in this case, an alicorn,” Silver Star explained. “When the wearer tries to cast a spell, it sends the magic energy back into the caster, and causes great pain.”

“Can it be removed?”

“No sir. Something about the enchantment makes it impossible to be removed by the wearer.”

“Well… shit.” Mark sighed. “But as far as we know, she’s safe.”

“For now,” Spitfire said.

“She’s going to have to go on the back burner. Right now, there’s this mess.” He flipped the display back over to eastern Equestria. The Goldclaw airboats still in the air now only numbered three, and the Grayclaws were still holding offshore.

“Sir,” Silver Star called out, “the Hopper is ready for departure.”

“Des, get Star Beam down to the Hopper.”

“Aye, sir.” Des’s form dissipated from the bridge.

“Also,” Mark said to where she once stood, “tell the hangar crew to prep my Cobra.”

“Going somewhere, captain?” Spitfire asked.

“Gotta go down to the planet,” Mark said as he stood upright. “Make sure these Grayclaws don’t harm anypony.”

“Who will hold command, then?” She worriedly asked.

“You’re just full of question today,” Mark replied as he walked to the hatch. “I believe you are the residing senior officer.” He passed through the threshold, “You have the conn, Captain Spitfire,” and the hatch closed behind him.

All eyes of the bridge staff turned to Spitfire, who stood in stunned disbelief. “Aye, sir.”

09:25, Manehattan time
Manehattan, Central Park

“Colonel!” a slightly winded Rainbow Dash said to the most official-looking pony she could find, taking the scroll from her mouth into her hoof, “I have a message from the princess.”

The moustachioed pegasus unfurled the letter, glancing over it before letting it fall to the ground. “Ponies! Listen up! There are possibly hostile Griffon airships within strike-flight distance. Pack ‘em up and start moving! Now!”

Another airship was coming down when Rainbow had arrived. During the time it took the colonel to read the note, it had touched down, and the tired and worn Griffons began exiting her hull. A familiar glimpse caught her eye, as one Griffon jumped from the deck and glided down to the ground.

“Gilda!” Dash yelled to her long lost friend. The Griffon in Dash’s sight quickly spun her head toward the source of the call. After their falling out during her last visit, the letters between the two had all but ceased. Any normal day, if one were to ask either of them of the incident, there would still be feelings of resentment, anger, and a hint of regret.

“Dash!” But not on this day.

Old friends sped toward each other, colliding in a tackle hug. “I was so worried for you when we started hearing things from over there.”

The Griffon leaned in hard on her friend, still clutched in the embrace of her hug. “I… I was worried too… that I wouldn’t get the chance to say that I-I’m--”

“Shhh.” Dash held a hoof to her beak. “There will be a time for that later. First, we need to get you someplace safe.”

“Safe? We are safe now.”

“You’re not out of harm’s way just yet.” Twilight said as she and Fluttershy landed near the reunited friends. “We’re currently tracking six other airships that have touched down in the water.”

“How far?” Gilda asked.

“Twenty-five kilometers offshore.”

The Griffon looked back to their airship. “Are you sure they’re that far out?”

“More than sure.” The princess looked to the left, showing the earpiece in Twilight’s ear. She pushed an exposed button. “This is Twilight.” She stared into the distance before glancing back at Gilda. “When will they arrive?” She began to pace. “Have you informed Captain Frude?” She stopped. “Okay. Patch me through to him.”

09:31 hours, Manehattan time
132,000 kilometers above the surface

“Captain,” Des’s voice came over the wireless. “Sensors are reporting a single Griffon launched from one of the airships and is heading toward Manehattan.”

Mark shifted in his flight suit. After fifteen days of being outside it, paired with the last year where it seemed he never took it off, and now being behind the stick of his Cobra again, it was a comforting feeling. “Just one?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Sounds like someone wants to talk.”

“Or he could be flying as a scout. We did a composition scan on the airships. They are carrying what appears to be trinitrotoluene.”

Star Beam, flying a Hopper on Mark’s right flank, wavered his craft. “What’s trinitro-whatcha-call-it?”

“Explosives.” Mark heard the unicorn take in a gasp of air. “Pretty tame compared to the compounds we’re carrying right now, but it still can pack a punch.”

“Captain Frude, this is Twilight,” Mark’s headset crackled. “Have you been informed about the incoming Griffon?”

“I was just being told about it.” Mark and Star beam banked, beginning their descent into the atmosphere. “Are the airships still holding their positions offshore?”

“Aye, sir.” Des answered.

Mark brought his hand to his head, forgetting that his helmet was on. “Well… this just keeps getting better and better.”

“What should I do?” Twilight inquired.

“Meet them at the shore,” Mark replied. “Do not let them know where the Goldclaws have been taken.” A bump let Mark know they were entering the outer atmosphere. “Also, do not let them land. Take a couple of pegasus guards and meet them on a cloud if you have to, but do not allow them to touch Equestrian soil.”

“What’s wrong with letting them land?”

“They’ll see it as an invitation to go anywhere. By putting a stern hoof up, they’ll think twice before just waltzing in. What’s this Griffon’s position, Des?”

“Sixteen kilometers out, approaching from the east-south-east,” Des said to the team. “Looks like he’ll be passing over the port.”

“Princess,” Mark started, “I trust you’re wearing your royal regalia?”

Twilight took a moment to respond. “I am.”

“Good. Because you’re going to be the one that talks to him.”

“What, what, what!?” she asked, flabbergasted. “Aren’t you going to get here by then?”

“Negative. We’re still about a half-hour away.”

“M-m-maybe we should wait for one of the other princesses to get here? Since they have more experience with this kind of--”

“Twilight,” Mark firmly said her name, cutting her off, “you’re going to do fine. These Griffons want only one thing, and only you can provide them with the means of doing it. You’re going to be the wall between the Goldclaws and the Grayclaws. But you have to look and act the part as well. There’s a saying back on Earth that I think will help you here: ‘Just say no.’” He could tell his speech wasn’t having the desired effect. “If all else fails, accuse him of making unwarranted aggressive moves that threaten the safety of Equestria, and kindly ask them to return to open airspace.”

“What if they won’t leave?”

“Take your colonel. He’ll know what to say next.”

09:43 hours, Manehattan time
Two hundred meters above the Manehattan seaport

Be a wall. Be a wall. Be a wall, Twilight repeated to herself as she sat atop a cloud, flanked by the pegasus colonel on her right, and a captain on her left. They could see the distinct outline of the Griffon envoy now, his course appearing to take him over where they were sitting.

“Gentlecolts, if you would.” She said to her guards. The pegasi dove from the cloud, unfurling their wings and flying toward the lone Griffon. Thirty seconds passed before she saw them hover in air, one of the ponies pointing to the cloud. She couldn’t hear what transpired between them, but when the group approached, it was immediately apparent the representative was not happy about being diverted.

“Why are you wasting my time? I am on a mission for High General Neadle, and am not to be delayed.”

Twilight cleared her throat, but the colonel spoke first. “You are addressing Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria. You will speak with more respect.”

The Griffon examined the princess from head to hoof, the glare of her crown meeting his eyes. “Ah, yes. Equestria’s newest princess.” He gave a shallow bow. “How do you fare, princess?”

“I have fared better.” Twilight’s opening remark took the pegasi off-guard. “I seemed to have been abruptly awakened at three o’clock this very morning when I was informed that six Griffon airships were approaching my coastline without provocation.”

The Griffon raised an eyebrow at the presentation of information. “Might I inquire as to how you obtained this information?”

“You may inquire, of course. However, if you do, I would be forced to inform you that information is classified at the moment, accessible only to those who need to know.”

“Very well.” the Griffon smoothed his wing feathers. “It matters little anyway. Why have I been side-tracked into an audience with the princess?”

“Ambassador, you approach my shoreline in warships loaded with explosives, without first disclosing your intentions to the crown. I have brought you before me to demand to know why you have violated Equestrian airspace.”

“And how are you privy to this information?”

“That is also classified.”

“We have done nothing to threaten Equestria, or her ponies, and our vessels are holding well-outside the recognized sovereignty line. Criminals who escaped the Kingdom fled west, and we have been tasked with bringing them back for trial. Surely if you saw us, you saw them, did you not?”

She skirted the question. “With what are these Griffons being charged?”

“High treason against the sovereign crown of the Griffon Kingdom. They were in line to be executed, but managed to flee.”

“And the fact that all of these ‘criminals’ happen to be Goldclaws has absolutely nothing to do with it?”

“You have found them? If you would kindly point me in their direction, we can put this whole mess behind us, and we can return to our normal, happy lives. I will, of course, need your permission to land my airships, and then afterward--”

“You do not have it.”

The Griffon’s neck feathers ruffled. “I beg your pardon, ma’am?”

“I believe you heard me. The Goldclaws inside of Equestria are now refugees of war, and are under the protection of the Equestrian Army and Navy. Any threat made against them will be treated as a threat against a pony.”

“I see,” the Griffon replied. “I am saddened that you have taken that position.”

“And you will see that it is a position that the other princesses will share. We hold all life of equal value, no matter their claw color.”

“I see you mind has been made. I will inform General Neadle of your decision.” He turned to the west, before spinning his head around to face Twilight one last time. “Speaking of princesses, I was told by General Neadle that if an agreement could not be met, I was to inform you that it will be difficult to secure the release of Princess Cadance.”

“Excuse me?”

“I believe you heard me, your highness. Fare thee well.” He lept from the cloud, flying west.

A tense moment passed as the group watched the Griffon flew over the blue sea. “What just happened?” Twilight finally asked as she remembered to take a breath.

“You did what you needed to do Twilight,” Twilight heard Celestia’s voice on her headset. “You stood firm and held your ground against their aggression, and they know not to come to Equestria. I’m very proud of you, Twilight.”

“But I’ve endangered Cadance.”

“They know better than to hurt her, lest they risk an all-out war, one they’re not ready to fight,” Mark’s voice chimed in on the comms. “Don’t think I could have handled it better, myself. Orders ma’am?”

“I require your council in Canterlot on this matter,” Celestia stated. “I may have had my fair share of political standoffs, but I feel you may have resources we can use to our advantage. Can you bring Twilight with you?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re on our way.”

11:00, Canterlot time
Throne room, Canterlot

Saying the tension in the throne room was thick enough to be cut with a knife would have been a severe understatement. Celestia had been pacing since the incident started, worrying for the safety of her ponies and now for the well-being of the new Griffon refugees. “They’re safe, for now,” Mark was reading his initial report from a tablet. “Most of the medical claims when they were admitted were cuts and bruises, and a few other moderate injuries. However I’m more concerned about the psychological damage these Griffons have endured.”

“I understand,” Celestia responded. Her mane was flowing more rapidly than usual, with the clear divides between the array of colors being blurred. “We will send battle fatigue experts to the temporary shelter area.” Mark gave a nod of approval. “Anything else that needs to be addressed?”

“Cadance!” A white unicorn burst into the room flanked by two others, their shining coats giving off a curious glow. “What about my wife?”

“Shining Armor,” Celestia began to address the distraught pony, “rest assured that everything that can be done is being done to release Princess Cadance. At the moment, diplomatic relations have broken down, but I have drafted--”

Shining Armor slammed both of his front hooves down upon the marble floor. “Then now is the time to act! Your newest addition to the Navy clearly stated in his report they are in no condition to fight. I can have a garrison of troops deployed in an hour, overseas and extracted in six, and back home in another six.”

“I will not condone any action that will lead to confrontation,” Celestia sternly said with a face to match.

“We will operate in an environment of stealth, unheard and unseen. Quick in, quick out.”

“And if you fail?” Mark asked as he folded his exposed arms.

“We won’t.”

“No,” Celestia’s tone was finite. “I will not hear of another plan involving the ‘rescue’ of Princess Cadance. This is will be solved by diplomacy, and that is final.”

Shining Armor gave a loud grunt of disapproval, turning about and stomping out, slamming the doors in his wake. “Well...” Twilight was the first to speak after his departure. “That could have gone better.”

“Yes, it could have.” Celestia let out a tired breath. “Captain Frude, do you have anything else to add to your report?”

Mark glanced once more at his tablet. “Oh, yes ma’am. We have a witness to the atrocities that have occurred in the Griffon Kingdom that insisted she return with us.” He stepped to his left, fully revealing Gilda.

“Go ahead and tell her what you told me,” he said to the Griffon.

She took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mark began to pull his flight suit over himself, zipping the airtight seal, “I need to get back to my ship.”

Celestia gave a nod, and Mark turned to exit the hall. Gilda was beginning her story when the great double doors shut behind him. A quick walk down the Gala Staircase and he was under the great blue sky once again. The sun was quickly rising to the roof of the sky, shining it’s radiance against his face.

He walked the streets of Canterlot, the passing ponies paying him nevermind, save for a few that gave him a smile. It’s one of the few things that Equus had over his old world. Everypony was always happy to see another. After his stressful day, it was a nice change to see a gleaming smile. And the best part, the smiles always seemed to put in extra pep in his step.

21:00 hours, Canterlot time
Undisclosed location in Canterlot

Shining Armor ground a rock into the dirt, unsure if anypony would show up to his summoning. His ear perked up every time he heard a set of hooves walk by, only to hear them pass. An hour passed before he considered leaving the garden. Maybe she’s right.

As he began to trek back to the castle, he heard multiple sets of hooves approaching. “Going somewhere, sir?”

“Well, I was about to head back to my room. But now that somepony has finally shown up, I might hang around.”

A brown-coated unicorn stepped forward. “Word says you’re looking for an expedition force to be on constant standby for the immediate rescue of your wife.”

“Word travels fast.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I’ve known you long enough to know you don’t mean to put together a standby squad for rapid deployment in case something happens. I know you mean to assemble ponies for an immediate rescue mission into the Griffon Kingdom.”

Shining Armor sighed. “Sometimes I really regret making friends.”

“Captain, I didn’t say I wouldn’t go with you. Why do you think I brought them?” He gestured to the other four ponies who had joined their meeting. “I only brought those I know we could trust. We are all in complete agreement. The time for talking has passed, and the time for action is now.”

Shining looked over the present ponies. “You know, if we do this and succeed, there’s a very real chance we will lose our commands.”

“We are aware, sir.”

“And there’s also a very real chance that we will lose our lives.”

“We’re sworn to protect the princesses… all of them.”

Shining smiled. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. There’s an airship waiting for us at the western skyport. I assume one of you is a pilot?”

“Yes, sir.” A unicorn with a white coat and cream-colored eyes said.

“Good. Meet me there at fourteen hundred hours tomorrow. We can make it over there by midnight, their time.”

They all saluted. “Yes, sir!”

Interlude: Personal Log Entry

PERSONAL LOG ENTRY
DATE: February 26, 2340
TIME: 19:47, Canterlot Standard Time

RECORDING BEGIN

[The sound of a bottle being uncorked]

Where I’m originally from, it’s supposed to be near the end of winter, with hopeful minds looking forward to the coming spring. Here, I’m told we are at the beginnings of Fall, and the so-called “Running of the Leaves” will take place, quickly followed by the autumn rains. Personally, I think these cloud pushers would have made a killing back on Earth and the colonies. To be able to make it rain in any given area is a farmer’s dream, and it’s all second nature to them here.

It’s going to be hard to associate February as being an autumn month now. I could just shift my entire calendar and make today September twenty-sixth, but there are larger issues to deal with right now than calendar shifting.

So, I think it’s safe to say that the situation down on the surface has gone from bad to slightly worse. Instead of just facing a group of potentially hostile Grayclaw Griffons, we now must resolve a much more delicate hostage crisis. Celestia has said that she is going to take diplomatic actions in order to secure her release, but when the Griffon ambassador left with the Grayclaw airships, I don’t see how that’s going to be possible. When representatives leave, history tells me that it’s the nail in the coffin in diplomacy.

The one called Shining Armor made it a point while we were in council to voice a plan that would attempt to extract the princess using tactical resources. Twilight had told me that he used to be a soldier; Captain of the Royal Guard, if I’m not mistaken. He was… displeased when Celestia shot his request down, but something about his demeanor, and the way he walked out… tells me he hasn’t accepted the answer. I shared my thoughts with Spitfire when I came back aboard, but she says Shining’s loyalty to the princess has no question. I pray that she is right. I can think of hundreds of people who would gladly throw their loyalty to the wind if it meant the safety of their loved ones.

Speaking of Spitfire, I’m told by Des that she commanded well. A bit timidly, at first, but well nonetheless. A crack commander she’d be. I’m curious as to what her answer will be about the XO position. Part of me wishes that she’ll just take the spot, while the other respects her concern of her current position. I’m sure she has spent her entire life getting to where she is now, and for someone like me to just come in and slide a second-in-command spot at her takes great consideration. I told her the list of candidates was short, which wasn’t a lie, since her name was the only one on the list.

[Sipping noises]

It’s been a while since I was able to enjoy a nice glass-- oh, who am I kidding -- a nice bottle of wine. A Pinot Noir, from 2327. It’s a shame I’m not sharing such a rare vintage with anyone. Maybe I'll give Sptifire a call. She looks the type that'd enjoy a glass or two.

I discovered the birthday present my brother gave me as I was moving my personal items to Commander Mandkea’s quarters, much to my protest. Even as I sit in here now, I still feel like I should be resting back at Pilot’s Row, not in the compartment that is at least three times the size of what I was used to. Not that I’m complaining. The space is nice, and I’ve got my own private washroom and kitchenette. I just get this feeling that I won’t live up to expectations.

Speaking of feelings, I was doing some research for Twilight about other instances of genocide in human history and if there was a possible solution that could be learned from them. Sadly, the only “solution” I was ever able to conclude from my readings was to declare full-scale war. I don’t intend to present this as a possibility to Twilight or the other princesses, but I digress from what I was trying to say.

I was reading about an old twentieth century war known as World War II, one of the worst, as I was told by my History of Warfare instructors. The attempted genocide of those of Hebrew descent is… appalling. But it wasn’t found out until the actual invasion of the continent of Europe in 1944 that this… extermination, was occurring. Certainly someone knew about this. What do you think would have happened had the Allies would have reacted faster, say, about 1938? How many lives could have been saved?

What would have happened had we reacted sooner? How many lives could I have saved? The story that Gilda told me on the way to Canterlot… We had the time, the resources to act, and we sat up here, thinking that our hands were bound. We sat and watched this happen, watched homes be destroyed, families torn apart, watching brother fight brother… and we did nothing.

But it’s too late now. A wise man once told me, “You can’t ‘what if’ history.” If anything, we saved a small clutch of Goldclaws, so they will remember and pass down the stories of this day to their children.

I’m making myself a promise. I have already seen one species go extinct before my own eyes. I will not see another.

If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go drown my sorrow.

RECORDING END

Someone to Watch Over Me

Post-Equus arrival, day 117
16:05 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Caprica

Mark knifed his Cobra between the port flight pod and the main hull, narrowly avoiding the belly of the ship. His maneuver forced one of his pursuers up, and the other down and away from the hull. Mark banked right and half-looped to the topside of the Caprica, skimming just meters away from its surface. Mark’s HUD highlighted the Cobra that chose to climb, his targeting systems locking onto the craft. He instinctively brought his index finger into a button on the flight stick, launching a missile.

The doomed fighter turned to evade the projectile, but began her bank too late and in the wrong direction. Three beeps from inside his helm confirmed his kill. “Splash one!” he exclaimed in his headset.

The “hit” fighter retreated back toward the Caprica. “Roger, Shocker. Kill confirmed.” Sky Eye sounded off. “One target remaining.”

He looked down at his scanner, seeing the blip of his next victim five hundred meters below him and to his left… and closing. Cadet Ember Streak was a unicorn proving to be a competent Cobra pilot. Mark slowed, letting the other Cobra within two hundred meters, before turning and letting the other ship give chase.

“Ha ha!” The other pilot said triumphantly. “I think you’re starting to lose your touch, Captain!” The unicorn pilot pressed the kinetic guns trigger, activating the training lasers.

Mark spun in a tight barrel roll, knowing the rookie pilot would chase after him with his crosshairs and not be able to keep up. He then leveled out his flight, cut his main thrusters, and spun his fighter nose-over-engine. Now facing his attacker but still carrying his forward momentum, Mark triggered his own training lasers, keeping them focused on Ember Streak. Three more beeps from his helm confirmed his second kill. “Have I, now?”

“Gahhh!” The frustrated unicorn hit the bulk of his console with a covered hoof. Before departing Canterlot the previous day, Mark had been informed that the local seamstress had completed part of his order: Three airtight flightsuits specifically fitted for pony anatomy. The design, he was told, was not difficult to duplicate after they were given a spare flight suit from another pilot. The tricky part was making room for muzzles and horns in the helmets, to which Mark enlisted the best blacksmith he could find, who had managed to painstakingly extend the helms in the correct areas, though the electronic components did require some quick rewiring.

“So,” Mark began, still flying in reverse and facing Ember Streak, “what did we learn?”

“You have a death wish?”

Mark gave a huff of a laugh. “Besides that.”

Ember thought. “I don’t know, other than Cobras can turn and face their attackers.”

“Well, you’re on the right track. Don’t be so quick to assume that you have a kill just because I, or whoever you’re chasing, made a mistake. They could be baiting you in.”

“Is that what you did?” Ember Streak asked.

“Aye, and you took it, hook, line, and sinker. Squad, form up.” Mark corrected his flight, pointing his nose toward the direction of his flight and reengaging the main thrusters. “Oh, and Night Shade,” he called to the mare in the other Cobra who was falling into formation, “what did you learn?”

“Bank in the correct direction to avoid becoming just another statistic,” she answered.

“That’s correct. Remember, ‘Breath, read, and react.’” Mark said as Ember took his place in the formation at the Mark’s right flank, and Night Shade at the Ember’s right. Mark banked left, and the others followed suit. “Now let’s head home. I believe you both owe me a drink.”

“Caprica to Shocker,” Mark recognized Des’s voice. “Am I to understand you are heading back to the ship?”

An eyebrow shot upwards in Mark’s helm. “That was the plan, yes.”

“Very good. Standby to receive landing procedure instructions.”

“Solid copy.” The three fighters came out of their bank, rapidly approaching the Caprica. “Standing by to receive instructions.”

“Shocker, you are to approach port landing pod from bow-approach. Ember Streak and Night Shade, approach from astern. Cross-traffic is secure and there are no exiting vehicles. Call the ball.”

“Roger. I have the ball.” The formation broke as Mark was the first to reach the landing pod. He slowed, crossing the force field that gave the craft a shake. Below, Mark observed ponies scurrying about the deck, painting the United Equestria emblem over the marks of the SSDC. Busy work, Mark knew, but it kept the minds of his crew at least partially distracted from Cadance. He spotted his landing zone, spinning ninety degrees to point the nose toward the tarmac, and landed with the grace of a butterfly. Not too bad.

A step ladder promptly wheeled itself by the cockpit, the glass hatch hissing as it opened. Mark undid the airtight lock on his helm, welcoming the rush of cool air onto his face. He removed his helmet, placing it atop the exposed console. A pegasus helped him remove the fitted collar around his neck, forming the last of the airtight seal to the rest of his body. Mark popped up onto the seat, climbing onto the ladder and down to the deck.

“Welcome back.” Des’s voice gave him a startle.

“Thanks…” Mark said with an upward inflection in his voice and in his brow.

Spitfire trotted across the tarmac, followed by Silver Star, who was levitating a bottle and several glasses. “Happy one thousandth landing, Captain!” they both cheerfully said in unison.

“No shit?” Mark looked at Des in disbelief and with the biggest smile she had ever seen him wear. “Was that really landing number one thousand?”

“Aye, sir!” Des gladly replied. Silver Star popped the cork from the champagne bottle, sending the projectile over to the crew pits. She filled a glass and levitated it over to Mark, quickly filling and distributing the rest.

“To our fearless Captain, and to his one thousandth landing!” Spitfire raised her glass into the air.

I’ll never figure out how they’re able to do that, Mark thought as his glass joined all the others.

“May he have one thousand more!” Spitfire loudly declared before they drank. The beverage was bubbly and fruity, with a tangy aftertaste that left him wanting more.

Somewhere in the middle of their toast, Ember Streak and Night Shade joined the group. Mark took note of them after going bottom’s up on his glass. “Hey rookies, remember when I said you both owed me a drink?” They looked at each other and nodded. “I lied. Head back to your quarters and find me after chow. Drinks are on me!”

19:03 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Crew lounge, Caprica

“So then, we’re both standing there in the shower, naked as the day we were born, and our senior drill instructor is looking right at us.” The last bit of the story gave the gathered ponies a hearty laugh as Mark brought his personal ceramic mug; an all black vessel, save the Grim Reaper encircled by the caption “Dead Men Tell No Lies,” to his lips. He took a healthy pull before slamming it back down onto the table, continuing his tale. “We both look at each other, and then back to him, and, in the calmest voice I’ve ever heard him speak in, he says, ‘Just be sure you two get thoroughly washed up,’ and leaves!” The lounge erupted in laughter so loud that Mark was certain the Griffons below heard them.

“So what happened next?” he heard a voice call out once the laughter had died down.

“Oh, young one, we are in the presence of mares!” Mark gestured to the few mares that had gathered around him. “And I’m not the type to kiss-and-tell… everything.” A few muttered laughs as well as blushes came from the crowd.

Spitfire was seated to his left, sipping on what was left of the champagne. “So what happened to you two?” she asked.

“Oh…” Mark sighed, readjusting his flight suit he let hang around his waist, “I got assigned to the Thor’s Hammer right after graduation, and she went to another BXR doing deep-space exploration.” He paused to take a drink. “We’d talk every once in a while. Last that I knew, she was at Gaia when it fell.” The room fell eerily silent, many of the gathered ponies dispersing as Mark stared at his drink.

“Sorry,” Spitfire apologized. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No,” Mark interrupted. “No, no. It’s alright. You didn’t know.” He finished out his mug with three large gulps, placing the now empty vessel back on the table.

“So…” Spitfire started.

“So…”

“I don’t know. I feel like I hit a nerve.”

“It’s nothing, really!” Mark reassured her. “I thought that she and I were going somewhere, and it didn’t turn out that way. ‘It is what it is’ as we used to say.”

Spitfire was about to retort, but a ship-wide alarm began to blare. “What the…” Mark thought out loud. “There were no drills scheduled for today.”

“Alert stations!” Des’s voice rang. The ponies in the lounge scattered in a flurry, heading toward their stations. “Senior staff, to the bridge!”

“Well this is just fan-fuckin’-tastic.” Mark cursed as he stood. He was slightly wobbly, taking a moment to correct his step before jogging to the bridge. “Down ladder! Make a hole!” he yelled as he and Spitfire made their way through the corridors. Upon arriving at the bridge, the hatch flew open to reveal the flurry of ponies in action. “Report!”

“Captain,” Steel Hoof’s voice called out once again from the sensor relay, “We’ve detected a ship crossing over into the Griffon Kingdom. Based on its trajectory, I’ve inferred it came from Equestria.”

“Why wasn’t it detected until now?” Spitfire asked.

“Well…” Steel Hoof stammered, “the captain ordered narrow scans encompassing only the Kingdom. We weren’t notified until it broke into the threshold.”

“No matter, cadet.” Mark brought two fingers to his forehead. “It’s my fault for not staying with the normal scans. But we needed to know detailed information about where Cadance is being held.” He gave his head a shake. “I’d kill for some coffee, or a B12 shot.”

Spitfire, always on the ball, came back from the bridge coffee maker. “Figured you’d want to get sober quickly.”

Mark gladly accepted the cup. “Thanks.” He took a sip. “Good thing Commander Mandkea was a coffee-holic. Speak of details, what do we know about the new airship?”

“It’s empty,” Steel Hoof began to report, “except for the four blips that show on the thermal scan, with the possibility of a fifth. Composition scans show no explosive ordnance, nothing of any kind, except objects that are composed of metallic alloys, most likely armor.”

“Great.” Mark muttered. He turned to Spitfire. “I’ll give you four guesses as to who it is.”

“Shining Armor?” she answered.

“It’s only logical.” The charting table brought up a localized scan, showing the position of the airship and the compound where Cadance was being held. “The love of your life is in hostile territory, and your requests to go after her have been shot down. So, you take four of your best buds and go rogue.”

“No,” Spitfire gasped. “Not Shining. He was a dedicated knight of the royal guard. There’s no way he’d refuse a direct order.”

“Love makes us do funny things, captain.” Mark faced Steel Hoof. “How far out are they?”

“At least…” the cadet paused to observe his screens. “Wait, they’ve ditched their boat at the shore and are proceeding to the compound on hoof.” He looked back to the captains. “By the Princesses, what is he thinking?”

“Tactical, Mr. Hoof.” The scan on the compound filled the screen. “Close and bar up all the doors, and point all your arrows and spears skyward. Shining knows they’re prepared for an aerial assault.”

“Which is why they won’t be expecting ponies on the ground.” Spitfire finished. “How long before they get there?”

“At current pace…” Steel Hoof looked back to his display, “Thirty minutes ma’am.”

Mark brought a hand to his chin, stroking the light stubble. “Put Star Beam on standby, and have the deck crew prep my Cobra and a Hopper.” Silver Star nodded and began to relay the message. “Oh, and Silver...” She looked back up. “Internal and external ordnance for the Cobra.”

“Expecting to shoot something, captain?” The golden mare asked.

“I hope not.” His eyes met hers. “But, just in case he mucks this up… I’d rather not go in unprepared.”

00:32, local time
Griffon Kingdom, undisclosed compound holding Cadance

The wall that stood before the group reached up into the night sky. It’s got to be at least ten meters, Shining thought as he scanned it. He waved a hoof to bring the others in. “Okay, on the other side of this wall, there’s a yard we’ll have to cross before we get into the building where Cadance is,” he whispered.

“Are you sure we’re in the right spot?” One of the other unicorns asked.

“Yes. Mark showed me which one it was a couple of days ago.”

“How do we get up and over the wall?” another inquired. “We didn’t exactly bring any rappelling gear.”

“A little trick that Twily showed me.” Shining closed his eyes, focusing his magics on the spell that had allowed Twilight to levitate herself before she had grown her wings. A soft mauve glow illuminated himself and those around him, sending them upward. Shining cracked open an eye as they passed over the crest of the wall, ensuring there were no Griffons in the immediate area. The grass below muffled their landing and hoofsteps as they took cover behind Cadance’s location.

“Guard at ten o’clock,” Shining whispered as he brought his head back to cover. “Moving east. Prepare to move on my mark. Stunning beams only.” He counted to five, allowing the guard to gain some distance. “Move now!”

The scurrying of hooves fell upon the ground as the group made their way to the entrance. Shining and another unicorn stood at the doorway as he brought his magic down onto the handle. The latch opened as Shining brought a forehoof to the door, forcing it open in a quick swing. The room revealed two very startled Grayclaw Griffons, who were quickly dispatched with the stunning beams from the unicorns before they had time to react.

“Stay here and guard the door,” he gestured to one of his comrades. “Let’s move.”

19:37 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Bridge, Caprica

“Sir, they’re in the compound,” Steel Hoof reported. “I’m also detecting strange readings the computer can’t seem to understand.”

“It’s the same readings that I’ve been detecting ever since we got here,” Des said to Mark.

“A magic discharge?” Mark asked.

“Most likely.”

“Cadet,” Mark said and faced Steel Hoof, “can you tell if they’ve been discovered yet?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” he replied. “Thermal scans showed two heat signatures in the building before Shining and his squad entered, then the magic discharge reading occurred. All other thermal blips seem to be acting normally.”

Mark turned to the comms relay. “Silver, your thoughts.”

“Most likely it’s just a stunning beam they were hit with.” Silver said as she navigated the console. “All guards are taught it. I highly doubt Shining has it in him to kill another being. They’ll be out for hours.” She pressed a hoof to her headset. “Your Cobra and Hopper have been prepped.”

“Very well.” Mark returned to the main chart. “He might actually pull this off.”

“There may be a problem with that, sir,” Steel Hoof spoke up again. “I’ve got two heat signatures coming down from the north on the western coast.”

“Show me.” A flicker on the charting table switched the displays to the thermal scans of the highlighted region. Just as Steel Hoof said, two red dots were slowly making their way down the drawn coastline toward the airship that was highlighted in green. “How long?”

“They’ll find the airship in ten minutes, at current pace.”

Mark studied the map. “If they were to get Cadance out now, not taking the time for stealth, and going full-gallop back to the boat, would they make it?”

Steel Hoof shook his head.

Mark’s heart sank into his chest before bringing a clinched fist down. “Dammit.” He rolled his flight suit back up over his shoulders and zipped up the seal. “Battle stations!” he called out. “Set Condition Two throughout the ship!”

The deep buzzing sound of the alarm systems began to ring, along with the voice of Des repeating, “All personnel to stations. Set Condition Two. This is not a drill.”

“Get me a line to Celestia,” Mark shouted as he inserted a wireless headset on his ear, “On the mobile! And tell Star Beam it’s time to fly!”

“Aye, sir!” Silver shouted back. A few buttons and the flip of a switch later she called, “Signal! Celestia is on the mobile.”

By the time the signal had come up, Mark was already out the hatch and headed to the port flight pod. “Princess, we have a problem.”

Tense seconds of silence filled the speaker. “What is it?”

“We’ve detected an airship crossing over into the Griffon Kingdom that we believe came from Equestria. Based on crew occupants, where they landed, and their current whereabouts, we’ve come to the conclusion that this is a group of rogue ponies led by Shining Armor.”

“What is he…” She trailed off. “Nevermind. I know exactly what he is doing. It does explain why he did not receive my summons this afternoon. What is his current status?”

“Last that I was informed, they still haven’t been detected. There has been an exchange of magic, though Cadet Silver Star has assured me that the blasts were not fatal in nature. But, the problem is their way out is on its way to being compromised. Their airship is about to be discovered by a patrol. We’re on our way down with a Cobra and Hopper to arrange an alternate pickup.”

“Hurry down and get them out,” Celestia said with obvious concern. “If they’re found out, I don’t think there will be any salvaging of this situation.”

“I agree. There also might be the problem of hostile Griffons. Should the need arise... “ Mark hesitated. “Permission to engage, weapons-free?”

A full ten seconds passed before Mark heard a reply. “No. Absolutely not. You are not to engage any Griffons.”

“With all due respect ma’am,” Mark said as he slid down the access ladder, “if the need arises, I will refer to Rule of Engagement number one: ‘It’s you against them. Make sure you come out on top.’”

00:42, local time
Griffon Kingdom, undisclosed location holding Cadance

“Clear!” one of Shining’s unicorns loudly whispered to the rest of his squad. The building they were in was only two stories tall, much to Shining’s relief. The door that separated him from the love of his life stood only a few meters away, another one of the unicorns working on the lock.

I can’t believe she said “No” to this, Shining thought as he impatiently paced while the lock was being picked. Everything’s gone to plan. The latch on the door gave way with a clank, and swung open to reveal the dark living quarters. The bed took much of the floorspace, hardly leaving any room for but a single pony. Shining saw Cadance’s sleeping form on the bed, which stirred to the sudden inflow of light.

Her purple eyes opened slowly at first, then shot wide after she recognized her husband. “You’re late.”

“Had to stop for snacks on the way.” Shining smiled as Cadance lowered her horn to show the magic inhibitor. He took a hoof to slide the ring off, throwing it to the ground. “C’mon, let’s get out-”

A pounding from the main door below cut him off. “Hey, you two. Open up,” called a voice they did not know. Three more poundings on the door. “Are you asleep in there? I said open up!”

“Oh no,” one of the unicorn’s in the group sighed. “There goes our exit strategy.”

“We’ll just have to improvise,” Shining said as he moved to the window. “We can probably get out here, over the wall, and --” His idea was cut off as the door below burst from its frame.

“Alright you two, up and at ‘em!” The unidentified guard shouted to the unconscious Griffons. “I swear, you two must be fresh from the…” His words stopped, and Shining held his breath, hoping the guard he stationed downstairs had found a place to hide.

“INTRUD-” the Griffon screamed before being hit with a stun beam. Mere seconds passed before a bell began to chime outside, a flurry of shouted orders following.

“Well, that answers that,” Shining hissed to himself. “We have to move now!”

“Can’t go out the way we came in,” the guard from below said as he entered the room. “Their mobilizing a team right outside.”

Both Cadance and Shining turned toward the small barred window. Cadance flared her wings, pushing the party back, and charged her horn. With a flash of brilliant blue light, where once stood a wall and a window was now a hole overlooking the small gap between the building and fortification barrier.

“Whoa,” Shining said in amazement. “Where’d that come from?”

Cadance gave a slightly sadistic grin. “Call it pent-up aggression.” She lept from the newly-created perch, flaring her wings once again and taking flight. The five other unicorns lept from the sounds of thundering footsteps coming up the stairwell, ducking and rolling as they hit the ground before sprinting to their waiting ship.

19:45 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Caprica

“Whoa!” Steel Hoof exclaimed from his station.

“What is it, cadet?” Since Mark’s departure from the bridge, Spitfire had been pacing around the charting display seemingly non-stop. Her legs were grateful for the interruption.

“Thermals just lit up all over the place, both in the compound and at the shore! Steel Hoof to Shocker.”

“Shocker here. Go ahead, cadet,” both he and Spitfire heard the call back.

“Rescue party’s position has been compromised, but they have the package, and are proceeding back to the extraction point.”

“Solid copy,” Mark replied. “What’s the status of our friends on the coast?”

“Well…” The cadet paused. “They made better time than what I originally calculated. The thermal scans are glowing at the EP, non-stop.”

They heard a sigh. “Okay, they found the boat, ID-ed it as Equestrian, and set it on fire. How nice of them to light the way for us.”

“They’ve also launched an airship of their own. The rescue group has the jump on them, but once they reach the coast--”

“I got it, cadet. I’ll handle it from here. Spits, move the ship back down into a two hundred kilometer orbit. She’s fulfilled her purpose where she is now. Shocker, out.” The headset gave a click as it ceased transmission.

Spitfire stared into space, lost in thought. What did he mean by that? “Conn,” she finally called out, “resume standard orbit of two hundred kilometers.”

“What’s going on, cap’n?” Wind Burst asked as he stepped back onto the bridge.

Spitfire inhaled deeply. “We might be going home soon.”

00:50 hours, local time
One-half mile away from EP

This is still savable, Shining thought as they were quickly approaching the coast. All we have to do is get on the ship, shove off, and fight off the Griffons for the entirety of the trip. He looked over his shoulder to see their pursuers were still nowhere in sight when the first scent of smoke filled his nostrils. Shining’s head whipped back around to see the faint glow of orange over the hill, and upon cresting over it, saw the burning wreckage of their escape.

“Oh no…” he muttered. “Cadance! Go! Go as far as your wings will take you!” His muzzle pointed to the sky to find his wife, only to be buzzed by a brown blur. He spotted the flash of Cadance’s magic and followed it, to see her being restrained by three Griffons.

One of the other unicorns trotted up to Shining in a heavy pant. “Not… over… yet…”

“Not yet, lieutenant.” Shining saw an incoming Griffon as he imbued his own horn, blasting it with another stunning ray. “Time to fight!”

The other unicorn began to charge his own horn, but the deep blue hue of his magic dissipated as quickly as it appeared. “Can’t… focus… enough… to--” His words were replaced by screams that made Shining jump and look, seeing the arrow that had embedded itself in the hindquarter of the unicorn. Shining responded by sending a skyward flurry of beams in all directions, but to no avail, as a Griffon came in from his left, tackling him to the ground.

He was about to fire another stunning beam when he felt the magic in his horn surge back into his head, leaving him in enough pain to cause him to collapse. The last thing he saw before blacking out was inhibitors going on his rescue party and his wife.

19:51 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
160 kilometers above the surface

“Caprica to Shocker,” Mark heard in his ear. “Party and package have been captured. I repeat, party and package have been captured.”

He didn’t reply. The only response he gave was to flip the “Master Arm” switch up.

01:02 hours, local time
Western Griffon Kingdom shore

Shining awoke to a jabbing pain on his chin. “Wake up!”

His groggy and now water-filled eyes opened slowly, revealing a line of Grayclaws standing behind his seated party, notched arrows in their bows, the airship not too far behind. He lifted himself off the ground and turned to find Cadance to his left. They met eyes, and Shining hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, my love.” She placed a hoof on his shoulder. “They wouldn’t dare harm two heads-of-state.”

“Yes, yes.” A Griffon stepped forward, wearing a gray jacket with several adornments. “The prince risking his life to save his princess!” He wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Oh, it’s so romantic I can hardly stand it!” He and his fellow Griffons erupted in laughter. “This just keeps getting better and better for us. High General Neadle will be pleased.”

“Your king will not stand for this injustice!” Cadance sternly began. “You have no right to hold any of us!”

“And what, you little pink excuse for a princess, makes you think that the king is still in control?” Cadance’s jaw fell open as she processed the revelation. “The royal family was disposed of weeks ago. High General Neadle is now in full control.”

“You won’t get away with this!” Shining declared.

“Oh, I think we will,” the Griffon turned his back to the group, “especially when the High General declares war after this intrusion. You killed two Griffons, you know.”

“What?” was all Shining could say. The group look about each other, with confused expressions. “That’s a lie, and you know it!”

“Oh, I know.” The Griffon turned about. “But dead ponies tell no lies… or truths in this matter.”

Shining’s eyes widened in horror as the words sunk in. The Griffons standing behind the remaining ponies made their way through the lines, now standing only a few meters away from them. They raised their bows at their targets and Shining looked away, but a claw made his head snap back around and held it in place.

“Oh, and look at that…” the Griffon officer went on. “Two shooting stars. We must be doing the will of the gods. And… a third!” He squinted. “Wait… can shooting stars turn?” His own eyes opened wide. “What the--”

20:03 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Western Griffon Kingdom shore

The launched missile found its designated target, embedding itself before detonating its warhead. The fiery aftermath of the explosion and shockwave turned standing Griffons over, giving the captured ponies precious seconds to jump up and start running.

Mark gave the area a pass before banking, looping around and finding a more level piece of earth before switching ordnance and firing again. A second later the projectile buried itself shallowly into the ground before the nozzle popped off, exposing a bright green flare and smoke.

“We’ve got them by surprise,” Mark said into his headset. “Star Beam, land and collect the package before they can recover. I’ll keep you covered.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Star Beam acknowledged before beginning his final descent. The wreckage of the airship collapsed in a ball of flame bright enough to illuminate the hillside. Mark rolled to observe the ground, and saw six ponies making their way to the green marker, much to his relief. He turned his attention to the Griffons still on the ground, as they slowly began to regain their footing.

“Ten seconds to touchdown,” Mark heard in his ear. His fighter swung out again, curling back toward the chaos and leveled. “I’m down!” Star Beam called out. “Boarding now!” Mark’s crosshairs aimed at the ground between the ponies and Griffons, and fired its kinetic ordnance. The explosive rounds detonated in a line between the groups, causing the Griffons to cower back.

Down on the ground

The hissing of the bay door opening caused the rescue group to jump back before looking in awe at the pony that emerged from it. “So I hear you need a ride!” Star Beam yelled above the noise of the burning wreckage and Mark’s firing. “Well, don’t just stand there! All aboard!” The ponies didn’t waste another second before jumping on board the Hopper.

Shining Armor was the last on, carrying the unicorn with an arrow still in his hindquarter on his back. “Your timing could not have been better, lieutenant,” Shining said as the door sealed shut.

“It’s cadet now, sir… with all due respect.” Star Beam corrected as he put on his headset again. “Shocker, package is secure.” A second passed as the pilot nodded. “Aye, sir. We’re on our way up.” An arrow hit the front glass of the Hopper, bouncing harmlessly off. “Hang on!” The party jolted from the sudden movement of the craft, most falling over. “There’s a first aid kit on the wall behind you!”

Cadance spun and reached out to the white-with-a-red-cross case, fumbling a bit as she had to open it with her hooves. “Can you get this stupid thing off me?” She angrily asked Shining. He swept a hoof down, giving the inhibitor ring a flick. It gave a dull metallic clank as it found the bulkhead, then began to spark as it tried to inhibit the workings of the Hopper. With her magic free, she immediately began attending to the wounded soldier.

Shining proceeded to remove the inhibitors from the rest of his party. When another soldier removed Shining’s own and joined it with the five others on the deck, the craft shook, and the party watched the electrical equipment flicker.

“Tango, tango, tango! Captain, I’ve got electrical failures happenin’ all over the board! We’re losing altitude!” Star flung his head around. “What in Tartarus did you all do back there?”

“Don’t look at us!” Shining quickly yelled back over the sound of several alarms. “We just took our inhibitors off!”

Star pointed his snout down to where the inhibitors laid. They were glowing an electric blue, shooting out arcs of magic throughout the cabin. That’s all the convincing it took for Star to turn back around and hit the cabin door open. “Get them off my boat!”

Shining gave Star a furious glare. “Mind your tone, cadet! You may be a part of this experiment Celestia put together, but I’m still your superior officer!”

The hydraulic mechanisms for the hatch locked into place as Star once again stood from his seat. “Rule of Engagement number seventeen!” he yelled as he collected the inhibitors in a hoof, “My ship, my rules!” Star threw them into the night, as a stray arrow glanced off the open hatch. Poking his head out revealed several Griffons were flying to meet them. “We’re leaving,” Star said as he moved back to the helm.

“It’s about time,” Cadance muttered as she wrapped a bandage around the arrow shaft.

“Cancel emergency, Shocker. Everything is A-OK.” Star Beam engaged the main thrusters. “Next stop: Canterlot!”

Post-Equus arrival, day 117
20:35, Canterlot Standard Time
Just outside Canterlot

The half-hour flight from the Griffon Kingdom had mainly been silent in the Hopper, except for the occasional sighs of relief and moaning from the wounded pony. Mark had sent word ahead to Canterlot that they were incoming with injures, and a medical team was waiting by the landing zone just outside the city, as was Princess Celestia.

Mark landed his Cobra beside the Hopper, and slid down in time to see the hurt unicorn being whisked away on a stretcher. He came around the Hopper to see the remaining group gathered before the Princess. “We will discuss this in the morning,” she said with a hint of anger Mark had never known her to have. Celestia said nothing else, and took off back to her balcony.

“Well,” Mark said to nopony in particular, “that could have gone better.”

Reconciliation

Author's Note

Hooray for (mostly) regular updates again since I'm not so busy!

Reconciliation

Post-Equus arrival, day 118
05:09 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Castle Suite, Canterlot

A gray, overcast day greeted Mark when he awoke. It took him a few seconds to realize that he wasn’t on the Caprica, and even longer to barely remember crashing into one of the guest suite beds at the palace. Upon sitting up and stretching, he vaguely remembered being shown to the room by an attendant and Star Beam entering the one next door. After that, he must have fell asleep before hitting the pillow.

Mark rolled his neck, and after a few satisfying pops, swung out from under the covers and stood. He twisted his trunk left and right, giving him the satisfaction of a few more good pops from his back. Only dressed in a light undershirt and his boxers, a loud snore from the next room gave him a jump. Mark located his flight suit and unfastened one of the pilot’s wings pins from the collar. He exited his own suite, and lightly knocked on the next door. “Star,” he softly said. The pony inside gave no response. “Star,” Mark said a little louder. A snort acknowledged his voice.

Mark then started pounding on the door. “Star!”

A short “Wahh!” was heard from inside, before a clattering of hooves on the floor approached the door. A weary-looking pony with dark circles under his eyes unveiled as the door opened. “Whazuh… oh, I’m sorry, sir. I-I wasn’t sleeping!”

Mark gave his own grunt of amusement as he stepped in. “I hope that’s a lie cadet, seeing that it’s...” He grabbed Star’s hastily-stripped flight suit, inspecting the red LED clock imbedded into the left wrist, “oh-five-ten, and we didn’t put in until after twenty-two hundred after we got all settled.”

“Sorry, sir. Just a bit groggy, I guess.” Star Beam yawned. “I’m usually not this slow to get up.”

“Post-battle fatigue,” Mark diagnosed. “I bet your body’s drained of adrenaline right now. Nothin’ to be sorry about.” Mark heard hooves hit the floor as he was stepping back into his flight suit when a knock came from the door. “It ain’t locked.”

Another unicorn dressed in royal butler garb entered the suite, a tray of pastries and coffee in tow. “Her royal highness, Princess Twilight Sparkle, has sent a complimentary breakfast for the both of you.” The server placed the trays on a nearby table before revealing a letter from his jacket. “I have also been instructed to give you this.”

Mark took the folded note, breaking the wax bearing Celestia’s seal. He quickly ran down the short letter. “Star, we’ve been summoned to a royal hearing at oh-nine-hundred.”

“Oh, fun,” the still half-asleep pilot responded.

“Is there anything else I may retrieve for you gentlecolts?” the server inquired.

“I believe we’re okay for now. Thank you very much.” The server gave a bow before departing, shutting the door behind him. “How do you take your coffee, Star?”

Star was struggling to get back into his own flight suit. “Ummm… hint of cream, a sugar cube, and a couple dashes of cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon, huh?” Mark said as he mixed the ingredients with a teaspoon. “Never took you for the cinnamon type.”

“It’s in a lot of stuff I eat. Tea, coffee, hot chocolate, all manner of baked goodies my wife makes.” Without turning around, Mark held out the coffee cup, which was taken in Star’s telekinesis. “I’m a regular cinna-holic.” Star brought the cup up to his lips and took a sip. “You make a mean cup-a-coffee.” He gave it a quick swirl. “Thanks, by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” Mark said as he turned back with his own straight-up black coffee. “I may be your commanding officer, but that doesn’t mean I’m a stuck up prick that won’t do a friendly favor for his crew.” He blew off the steam before taking a small sample of the beverage. “Speaking of my crew...” Mark placed the cup back onto its saucer. “Your performance yesterday was beyond extraordinary.”

“I was just doing as I was ordered, sir,” Star replied.

“Nah,” Mark said with a headshake. “You did more. You had an emergency that would have doomed your vessel, but yet you managed your discipline, recognized the issue, resolved it, all while keeping your craft in the air and your passengers safe. There were human pilots that couldn’t accomplish what you did.” He unfastened the magnetic clamp. “You went above and beyond the call, cadet; from the frying pan and into the fire.” Star stood and watched, almost with child-like disbelief as Mark re-clamped the wings on Star’s collar. “I think you’ve earned those… Second Lieutenant.”

“T-T-Thank you very much, sir!” Star gave a salute. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just try to wake up on time from now on. You’re an officer now.” Mark winked.

09:26 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Throne Room, Canterlot

Mark flipped his flight suit sleeve over, noting the clock for the third time within the hour. It was very unlike Celestia to run late. Whenever she had an appointment with Mark, they would always start and end on time. Clockwork… just like her Sun. And always with a bright and shining disposition, too. When the double doors to the throne room finally did open, Celestia’s expression was one he didn’t know she knew.

Stern.

That was the only way Mark could describe it. Or it could be said she had the look that said, “I’m not angry, I’m disappointed.” The princess silently walked past the gathered group, composed of Shining Armor, Cadance, Twilight, Star Beam, and Mark. A rolled scroll suspended in magic followed her motions.

“Please excuse my delay,” Celestia began as she turned and sat upon her throne. “I was with the newly founded War Council discussing the disturbing missive we received just this morning.” She unfurled the parchment and began to read it aloud.

To: Princess Celestia, Supreme Ruler of Equestria

I write to you today to inform you of the shameful transgressions, tresspasses, damages, and loss of life that occured on the sovereign ground of the Griffon Kingdom, caused by members of your very own armed forces.

A naval shipping compound was attacked by what several eyewitnesses can attest to be “a group of unicorns,” in the midst of the previous night. Sources tell us that a firefight ensued inside, resulting in the death of a number of our brave soldiers. This same building used as an executive office was damaged enough by a magic attack in the fugitives’ escape that it must now be condemned.

We now have the prisoners in our custody, and they are awaiting trial via a military tribunal. However, we cannot ignore the fact this was a wanton act of war, committed suddenly, and deliberately, by forces who allied themselves with the Equestrian Armed Forces. As a result, the king has had no choice but to issue a decree of war, and you will be hearing from us soon.

However, it was informed to us that a firefight of bows and arrows and magic also occurred outside the compound, and on the adjacent shoreline. These rogue ponies who caused the destruction to our naval port were about to be transferred into our custody managed to escape with the aid of a being of unknown power, one we can only assume is an ally of Equestria, resulting in several other deaths, and the destruction of one airship.

The king has already met with his small council, and we have come to the conclusion that we have no choice but to consider this invasion an act of war.

It was proposed to the king to simply ask for the fugitives, but your position is already abundantly clear, due to your harboring of other criminals in your state. The king has already summoned the legions of our armies, and you will be seeing us soon.

Signed,

High General Neadle

Celestia released her magic surrounding the note and let it fall to the polished floor. “So, who would like to be the first to explain to me why I received this declaration of war?”

Shining Armor stepped forward. “Your highness, the death of Griffons is greatly exaggerated. My team was under strict restrictions to use non-lethal magic.”

“And yet--” Celestia picked the scroll up, letting it flap about as she waved it in the morning air, “--I have a report here that says otherwise. And YOU were under orders to not attempt anything like this. So who am I to believe?”

“Ma’am, if I may?” Mark inquired. Celestia angled herself, acknowledging him. “First I would just like to take a moment to recognize the group of volunteers that stayed aboard the Caprica for the duration of this… incident. None of them had to stay, but every single one of them did, and for that, they are to be commended.”

“Noted,” Celestia shorty replied, “but unfortunately, it will have to wait until all of this is behind us.”

“Of course, ma’am.” He gave a small bow. “Next, for the firefight that occurred on the coast, I take full and sole responsibility. I got an ‘all-clear’ on the airship from Des, and I destroyed it with a missile. In the ensuing chaos and panic, we were able to collect Shining and his party.”

Celestia’s muzzle scrunched. “Captain Frude, that was not your order to give. Also, I gave you strict instructions not to fire.”

“I’m aware, ma’am. But would we all being standing here having this conversation had we not intervened?”

“Would the king have declared war had you not intervened?”

Cadance very loudly cleared her throat. “From the way the Griffon guards were making things sound, that is exactly what they wanted.”

Celestia’s stern statue-like demeanor broke. Her eyes widened and brow relaxed in shock. “Explain.”

“From what I heard and what we were told, High General Nealdle is in complete control. The royal Griffon family is either missing, or worse.”

Celestia gave a quick head shake. “I fail to see how it could be worse.”

“They could be dead,” Mark bluntly stated.

“Yes. Thank you for the grim realization.”

Mark looked away. “Everyone was thinkin’ it. I was just saying it,” Mark muttered under his breath before turning back. “But ma’am, don’t you find it just the least bit odd that you received a declaration of war so soon?”

“Not at all,” Celestia said matter-of-factly. “During the time Cadance was overseas, I would often receive a letter from the Griffon Kingdom no more than two days after I had sent my last one.”

“Forty-eight hours versus less than nine for a letter. Smells fishy to me.”

Celestia’s stern demeanor seemed to shift to one of skepticism, borderlining on disgust. “Are you implying that the Griffon Kingdom has deliberately lead us on in starting a war?”

“From what I’ve started to piece together, yes.”

“How long have you been piecing this theory of yours?”

“About sixty seconds.”

Celestia let out a heavy sigh. “And I don’t suppose you have any physical evidence to support your claim.”

Mark pulled out a small handheld touchpad. “Sadly, I only have a complicated theory based on a chain of connected events.

“First, we start with the young and charismatic general, full of passion and zeal. He’s had a taste of true power, and now he wants more. He knows his country’s history and is well-aware of the bad blood between the Grayclaws and the Goldclaws. So he begins to make it his mission to make the other Grayclaws hate the Goldclaws again. The problem he runs into is the tolerant Royal Griffon Family. How do you get rid of them? With a silent coup d’etat, drown out by all the noise you are already making. It’s like trying to distract a foal with some kind of shiny bauble while also trying to give them an immunization. ‘Hey, look at the shiny while we do this bad and hurtful thing!’

“Now, maybe an immunization isn’t the best metaphor because those are always beneficial in the long-run, but you get my meaning.” Mark looked to see several nods of agreement. “So, your competition is out of the way, and now you need fuel for the war machine. The Goldclaws are on high alert. The Royal Family has gone quiet, so those of higher echelons look for a third-party solution. And who better than the ponies of Equestria? They’re intermediary, unbiased, and completely unaware of what’s going on behind the scenes.

“The Grayclaws aren’t dumb. They know better than to try and restrain the Princess of the Night. They would never stand a chance. However, if they were to get another, say, one with less foreign affairs experience and a hot-blooded husband, things might just get interesting. Perhaps the husband will attempt to rescue his wife. Such an event happens, and as soon as Cadance arrives, the Grayclaws now start to put the pressure on the Goldclaws. Homes are invaded. Property is destroyed. Goldclaws start to go missing! So the Goldclaws are left with one option: Leave, and go to the only place they know they’ll be safe.

“General Neadle knows we’re not going to willingly let Grayclaw conspirators take away innocent Goldclaws, so they give us an ultimatum: The Princess for the refugees. A diplomatic nightmare is about to ensue, and all General Neadle has to do is sit back and wait for the Prince to save his Princess. He doesn’t have to wait long, as he comes and botches the rescue attempt. All they need to do then is catch the perpetrators, plant some phony evidence, cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war.”

A distant rumble of thunder echoed in the hall after Mark’s explanation came to an end. Mark could almost see the smoke coming out of the ears of the ponies before him as they churned and processed the information. “It does seem logical,” Twilight was the first to break the silence.

“However,” Celestia started, “you have not mentioned their motive. Why are they Grayclaws doing this?”

“To put it simply: Control.” Mark scrolled down on his handheld. “A few weeks ago, we discussed the current state of the standing Griffon military. As I recall, it was rated as poor. Have an incident like this happen, and Griffons will be crying out for justice and revenge. I’m willing to bet my wings that there are already lines at recruitment stations throughout the Griffon Kingdom. And now, with a large standing army, who would dare challenge General Neadle’s authority?”

“There’s just one problem,” Shining’s voice now joined with the others’. “You said their plan relied on us being captured. But here we are, with the truth on our side. All we need to do is tell them what really happened.”

“Try convincing a country full of angry Griffons you didn’t do it when there is a mountain of planted yet logical evidence that says otherwise.” Mark holstered his handheld. “By the time anyone would care enough to listen, it would be too late.”

Celestia once again took the note from the Griffon Kingdom in her magic, giving it a once-over. “Captain Frude,” she said from behind the note, “you make a compelling and sound, yet uncomfortable argument. But I still need to see more concrete evidence before making rash decisions.”

“The strike in the middle of the note,” Mark pointed out. “I caught a glimpse of it when you were waving it about earlier. If I may?” He outstretched a hand, to which Celestia filled with the now slightly tattered scroll. He carefully inspected the document, but the words themselves were his interest. “What do you make of the handwriting change in the middle?”

“Looks like someone tried to cram information between paragraphs,” Cadance said, reading the note over Mark’s shoulder.

“And about the striked paragraph after that,” Mark continuted, “I’m willing to bet that as soon as we made our getaway, the guards reported back and made sure the story fit.”

“Why not simply toss this letter and start anew?” Cadance asked.

A surprising voice answered. “Time,” Twilight said. “There wasn’t enough time to get another draft going and keep with the timetable.” Twilight looked to her former mentor. “Princess Celestia, I stand convinced that this has all been one elaborate plot to lure the nation of Equestria into conflict.”

Cadance and Shining Armor stepped forward. “As do we.”

“As do I,” the sudden voice of Luna startled even the posted guards at the doors. “The Royal Family was somehow always busy when I requested a direct meeting with them. I had to speak with one ambassador or another. It makes sense now why I never saw them.”

Celestia looked down upon her small audience. Even though the physical elevation of her throne allowed her to do this, she had the strangest feeling that they were looking down upon her, waiting for an answer. “It pains me to say, but I must agree.” Celestia stood. “There are no other explanations for the sudden hostility toward Equestria, or to the Goldclaws for that matter. What we must now do is decide how to proceed.”

“I’ve given that some thought,” Twilight said, “but you’re not going to like it. It’s basically a lose-lose situation we’re in. If we try to stay diplomatic about it, attempting to contact General Neadle directly, we run the risk of him making outrageous demands, such as turning back the Goldclaw refugees and my brother, or worse, having no response at all. The other way to proceed is to march into full-scale war.” Twilight gazed about the hall. “But I feel I speak for everypony when I say that no one wants that.”

Celestia sadly shook her head. “We do nothing, or we bring fifteen hundred years of peace to an end.”

Silence now filled the hall, with the occasional low rumble of thunder from a distant storm. Mark began to walk along the hall, observing each of the great stain glass windows. He had not noticed it before, but next to the window depicting Twilight’s defeating of Tirek, another had been installed. A great yellow circle, enclosing a basic outlining of the Type 271-BXR. Below, a Cobra was in flight, flying directly over what looked to be Twilight’s castle.

Marcus saw passed the colored glass to see his actual Cobra and Star Beam’s Hopper, still in the designated landing zone. His thoughts went back to times he had deployed, fighting for survival, fending off the countless swarms of Driden fighters, bombing Driden troops on a hit-and-run ambush --

That’s it, Mark thought to himself. I can’t believe I’m about to suggest this. “Your highnesses, there is a third option.”

Mark’s back was still facing the ponies, and he did not see their ears perk back up and the sound of another choice. “Let’s hear it. Anything has to be better than the options already on the table.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Mark said as he spun to address the equines. “A preemptive strike on General Neadle himself, with two, no… one laser-guided, high-explosive bunker buster, dropped from an altitude of five thousand meters.” The stares he was receiving burned into him. “He and his command staff will never see, hear, or feel what hit them.”

“You want me…” Celestia paused. “...to authorize the killing of Griffons.”

“Think of the lives that would be saved. ‘Cut off the tail, and it will grow back. Cut off the head, and the monster dies.’”

“No,” Celestia defiantly answered. “I cannot and will not condone this course of action.”

“Okay,” Mark unholstered his sidearm. “Then to full-scale war, it is, then. With all it’s glory,” he loaded a round into the chamber, “and all it’s horror.”

“That is not acceptable, either.”

“Sister,” Luna approached the throne, “we must consider this. How many lives would be wasted if we were to engage the Griffons on the open battlefield?”

“There is no guarantee that his action would not have dire consequences. It could further escalate our conflict,” Celestia rebutled.

“See, I don’t think it will,” Mark said to the two sisters. “There’s a tactic, from long before I was born, called ‘Shock and Awe.’ No one here has ever seen a penetrative high-explosive device in action, am I right?” The hall gave no answer. “Once it has been demonstrated, they will become too scared to fight. They will see wherever General Neadle happened to be now lies in ruins, realize that no place is safe, and return to their homes.”

Celestia looked up to her sister, who was slowly nodding her head, before closing her eyes and turned away. “And all it will cost,” Mark continued, “is one power-hungry general, a handful of his most loyal staff, and a drop of blood that found its way onto a hoof.” Mark himself walked up the steps to the throne. “Where I’m from… that is a bargain.”

Celestia’s stoic demeanor broke, as a tear fell from an eye. She reached for her sister, who readily reached around her barrel in a tight embrace. A sniff was heard, as was a drawn-out, uneasy sigh. Celestia pulled back from the hug, and looked directly to Mark. “Very well.”

Mark leaned in. “I want you to know, ma’am, that it is with a heavy heart that I take responsibility for this action. I thought I had come to Equestria to stop fighting.” Mark gave a low huff of a laugh. “But I guess I’m destined to not stop.” He stood erect again. “But first, we need to know where he is, exactly.” Mark pushed a button on his belt. “Shocker to Des.”

A momentary fit of static came through his wireless earpiece. “This is Des, go ahead, Captain.”

“How soon will you pass over the Griffon Kingdom?”

“Thirty minutes, sir.”

Mark released the button. “Can you write a scroll and send it directly to General Neadle?”

“Yes,” Celestia softly replied. “It’s how I have always been sending correspondence to him.”

“Okay. What we’re going to do is send a letter back to him, acknowledging the declaration of war, and also telling that the Equestrian Navy is already on its way. We should be able to get a thermal fix on his exact location.”

“Okay,” Celestia said, pulling up a quill and paper.

Mark switched back focus to his headset. “You still there, Des?”

“Standing by,” Des acknowledged.

“We will be sending a letter via magic over to the Griffon Kingdom. Set the sensors on normal focus, with emphasis on the unidentifiable anomaly. As soon as it is detected, begin a thermal track of the target, and relay the information to my Cobra.”

“Aye, sir.”

“That is all. Frude, out.” He turned back to the small gathering. “It’s going to take me thirty minutes to get over there, anyway. May as well start heading that way.”

Marcus began zipping and resealing his flightsuit when a tug on the collar stopped him. “Do not miss,” he heard Celestia say.

“I never do.”

Post-Equus arrival, day 118
10:12 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Five thousand meters above the Griffon Kingdom

There was always something about a solo flight mission that caused a pilot to do deep thinking. For most, it usually entailed some factoid of their current situation. “I’m in a tin can with wings, explosive devices below my feet, and the way that my craft can propel itself is its tank of flammable fuel that is constantly exploding behind me.” Those kinds of thoughts have driven many pilots into early retirement.

For Marcus, it was more personal. What would Commander Mandkea say to me if he were here? What would my mother say to me? Wait… I already know what she would say. “You’re only dropping one?” Yes, Mother, I’m only dropping one. I want to eliminate the target and make a statement, not destroy a mountain.

“Caprica to Shocker,” a voice in his ears snapped him out of his trance.

“This is Shocker. Go ahead.”

“Captain, sensors have picked up a magic anomaly. The target has been tagged. It’s right where we expected him to be. The large fortress embedded into a mountainside. Sensors indicate… not much between him and the ground level, but it’s thick enough for conventional Equestrian ordnance to not be able to reach him.”

“Acknowledged,” Mark reluctantly said as he flipped up the “Master Arm” switch on the bomb bay. Below his seat, two retracting doors opened on the Cobra’s belly, and a single bunker buster, no bigger than three footballs laid end-to-end, slowly lowered into release position. “Coordinates loaded into payload guidance systems. Approaching drop point.”

He could see the ground below him, green and pristine, the outline of the Griffon fortress clearly visible even from his altitude. “Caprica, how many life signs are in lethal proximity to the target?”

“Two, sir.”

All Mark could do was give a sad sigh, and look back at his readouts. “Ten seconds to drop.” Lords, forgive me, for what I am about to do.

The tone signaling for the drop came, and Mark reflexively brought a thumb down onto the release button on his stick. His craft lurched upward as the hydraulic release mechanisms fired. “Payload is in transit. Returning to homeship.”

“Solid copy, Shocker. Standby for approach orders.”

Mark banked to begin his rendezvous ascent back into space. A full minute of silence passed before three beeps rang in his ears. He didn’t bother to look back and confirm his kills. He already knew.

Post-Equus arrival, day 118
20:35 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Commander’s quarters, Caprica

Marcus was sat on his bed, reclined against a wall and reading the text version of his audio log when three dull, metallic thuds came from the hatch. He flipped off the screen. “Come in.”

The wheel spun, and in stepped a golden pegasus, her amber eyes looking somber upon him. “Hi,” she softly said as the hatch closed behind her.

“Hey,” he quietly returned.

She took a few steps closer. “Did you hear the remaining elements of General Neadle’s staff surrendered?’

“Yeah.”

“And that they found --”

“Yep,” Mark cut her off. “Celestia told me.”

She let out a sigh. “You missed chow.”

“Didn’t much feel like eatin’.”

Spitfire’s wings flared out, giving a quick fluttering before gently landing her on his bed. “Because of…”

“Yeah.”

She turned around and faced the same way Mark was before sitting. Two minutes of silence passed. “Cadance told me what was said down there today,” she said as she faced him, still speaking in hushed tones. “When you were talking about how many lives would be saved if you did it, where you trying to convince them, or yourself?”

Mark slowly took a breath and fully exhaled. “I dunno. Both, I guess.”

Spitfire took her forelegs and wrapped them around one of Mark’s arms. “You know, I stopped by your little ‘zone of zen’ first. Figured you’d had gone there.”

“Didn’t much feel like walkin’, either.”

She tugged on his arm. “Well I do. C’mon.” Her head motioned toward the hatch. “Take a girl for a walk.”

Five minutes of quietly passing through mostly empty corridors later, the hatch closed to the Emergency Landing Bay Control Area. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, leaving the internal lights the only source of illumination apart from the endless field of stars, until - “Lights, off,” - Spitfire turned them off.

Mark leaned back against a panel and sat, Spitfire seating herself in front of him. Mark’s gaze turned toward the stars, only to be intercepted by Spitfire, the gentle glow of the command consoles making the amber color in her eyes shimmer. “Talk to me.”

“You know, you don’t seem like the ‘sit and talk about our feelings’ type.”

“You humans have them, right?”

“Sometimes.”

“Hey,” she brought a hoof up to his chin, making sure he was still looking at her. “No sarcasm.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Mark’s eyes again went to the stars.

Spitfire sighed in frustration, before her own sight the the dots of light in the sky. It was hard to believe, now that she had been up in space for a little more than two weeks, that ponies of old used to tell their foals and their grandfoals of heroes that lived in the night sky, immortalized forever. Perspective, she guessed.

Five silent minutes passed, the only noise bringing either of them comfort coming from the constant humming of the ship. “You did what you had to do,” Spitfire broke her line of sight, shifting back to Mark. “Nopony blames you for that. Not even the Princesses.”

A lump began to form in the back of Mark’s throat. He could feel his heart wanting to burst out of his chest. He took a breath to speak, but no words came out. He closed his eyes, and composed himself before trying again.

“When I came here, I was hoping to not be… well…” he motioned to the hull of the ship, “this. I wanted to be just a guy with a cool mode of transportation.” Both had a little laugh. “But that also meant abandoning everything that I had ever known. So… I’m torn. Torn between the like I want, and the life I have.”

A small peck on the cheek caught Mark by surprise. He didn’t even realize what had happened until after Spitfire’s lips had broke contact. “There’s more than that.”

Mark swallowed hard. “Do you know what it’s like to be alone?”

“Yes,” Spitfire said with a nod.

“Do you know what it’s like to be truly alone?”

“Not in the manner that you’re talking about.”

“I do.”

She brought a hoof to his chest. “But you’re not alone anymore. We’ve taken you in as one of our own. Sure, you have a little less hair on your head, and walk on two legs, but so does Spike the dragon, and he considers himself more a pony than a dragon.”

“That’s different,” Mark barely muttered.

“So you haven’t accepted that we’ve accepted you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I don’t understand, then.”

“You wouldn’t. You can’t.”

“Tell me. Make me understand.” Her hoof pressed harder into his chest. “Tell me, please.” No response came from Mark. “Tell. Me. Please.”

“Why do you care, all of a sudden?” Mark asked, with a slight angered tone.

“Because I care… about you.” Spitfire’s hoof came back down to the metallic panel.

Mark drew in the biggest breath he could, and held it for a few seconds, before letting it all go. “I’m afraid that I will forget them.”

Spitfire tilted her head in confusion. “Who?”

“Everyone I already lost.”

The sudden realization hit Spitfire like crashing headfirst into a mountain. “You’re still not…”

All Mark did was shake his head.

Spitfire’s forelegs wrapped themselves around his back, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. Mark hesitated at first, the sudden show of affection. Slowly, his hand crept up, coming around her back before tightly returning the hug. A stream of tears flowed from Mark’s eyes onto Spitfire’s neck, but she paid them no mind. Their embrace finally broke, and the mare locked eyes with the pilot. “You will never be alone again. I promise.”

Just the sound of the words brought a sense of comfort back to Mark; a feeling of belonging. The two held each other, content with the silence, and looking back at the planet Mark was now comfortable in calling “home.”

Interlude: Homecoming

Post-Equus arrival, day 121
17:38 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Bridge, Caprica

“Mr. Wind Burst?”

“Yes, Captain Frude?”

“Take us down.”

“Aye, sir,” the Second Lieutenant said as he spun back toward his console. A few command prompts later, the Caprica was on a course to a large clearing just outside of Ponyville. “We’re on our way down, cap’n.”

Mark reached for the microphone. “All hands, for the next hour or so… brace for turbulence.”

Atop her castle, Twilight’s vision focused on the western horizon and to the clearing where the Caprica would be offloading her crew. A part of her was tense with the excitement of being able to see the ship comparatively sized with her surrounding environment. The other part was fearful that such a behemoth was soon going to be hovering over her small section of kingdom and subjects. Twilight had told the community of Ponyville what was coming, knowing full-well they were still a panic-y lot.

And I’ll never understand why, Twilight thought as she gazed down to the gathering crowd of ponies at the clearing. We used to have about one disaster per week. You’d think they’d expect it by now.

A twinkle on the horizon focused her thoughts. “Guards,” she called out to the two pegasi posted at her door. They entered her chamber and joined her on her balcony. “It’s time.”

“Firing bow thrusters to reduce speed,” Wind Burst called out. Mark watched as their forward velocity fell rapidly. “Three hundred… two hundred… one hundred… fifty… we’ve arrived over the target point.”

“We’re holding steady,” Des reported as she read her own holographic readouts.

“Very well,” a tired Mark said. He picked up the shipwide broadcast mic. “All hands, make your way to the loading bays. As soon as the loading pads hit the ground, do try to clear off quickly. Welcome home. Caprica Actual, out.” The bridge began to clear as the staff moved to exit.

Spitfire stopped when she saw Mark not joining them. “Aren’t you coming, too?”

“No,” he answered. “Gotta keep a dangerous creature like me contained.”

She gave a disapproving sigh, before fluttering up and giving him a quick kiss. “Call me, if you get lonely.”

“I will,” he said as she turned to leave.

Twilight watched from the ground as the great spaceship loomed ominously above. The gathering was relatively calm, comprised mostly of family members anxiously awaiting their family’s reunification. A loud clank was heard, and the princess saw the lifts begin to lower. Three minutes passed before they finally reached the ground, the ponies moving to step off and run to their waiting loved ones.

She looked for Mark, but saw he was nowhere to be found. The lifts began to retract, as Twilight spotted Spitfire, taking flight to meet her in air. “Was he not coming?” she asked when she caught up to the pegasus.

“No,” Spitfire replied. “I think he needs some time.” The two mares hovered and watched as the Caprica retreated back into the evening sky.

Author's Note

Something short and quick, while I get over this little bump.

Dr. Cervello, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Forgive Myself

Mark didn’t know what it was about an EVA that made him want to puke. “In an extravehicular incident,” one of his instructors was explaining, “your sense of balance may be a bit thrown off. Since weightlessness affects the fluids in your inner ears, it may respond with side effects including but not limited to disorientation, nausea, vomiting, and headache.”

Right now, it was giving him everything except the vomiting, but he had the feeling that could change at any moment. Marcus silently cursed the fact that a simulated emergency ejection into space fell into the required training for pilots.

“Tango, tango, tango!” he shouted into his comms. “This is Shocker, declaring an emergency! Craft is trash, and require pickup, over.”

The comms, usually abuzz with the traffic of orders going from ship to ship, was dead silent. He switched to another frequency. Nothing. “Shocker to Recovery, respond.” The ship that he was told was going to pick him up didn’t reply. “Shocker to anyone... ”

His own breathing was the only sound that greeted him. He swung his left arm out to make himself rotate and hopefully let him catch a glimpse of the training fighter from where he was ejected. A difficult task, he already knew, since this training session was taking place on the dark side of the planet, though he could see the Sun was only moments away from cresting over the horizon. As he came about, he only saw the stars, with no sign of his training craft, or any other craft for that matter.

He shook his head in disbelief as his rotation continued, now looking down upon the planet. The orange glow of the cities shone back, but there was something askew about their color that Mark couldn’t discern. It’s just… wrong. It kinda looks like if it were… on fire.

The Sun crested over the curvature of the Earth as Mark flung out his right arm to stop his rotation. The ground was just starting to become visible when Mark realized it wasn’t Earth he was seeing.

It was Equus… and it was burning.

A large body of water was directly below him, and he watched as the blue waters turn red. A glimmer caught the corner of his eye, and spun to see the Caprica… rather, what was left of it. The two landing pods were separating themselves from the body, an engine nacelle was missing, and entire sections were exposed to the vacuum of space. Debris was floating around the ship, as Mark approached with frightenly high speed.

“Shit… shit! SHIT!” he screamed as he lined toward the wreckage. Mark flailed his appendages, in an attempt to change his course, but to no avail, as he couldn’t even rotate. His destiny, it seemed, wasn’t to be killed in combat, but by running into his own carrier. He braced for impact, and just before he was flung against the hull…

Post-Equus arrival, day 142
02:43 hours, Canterlot Standard Time
Commander’s quarters, Caprica

“Ahhhh!” Mark yelled as he shot up out of his pillow, sending his covers off the end of the bed. He could feel his heart hammering away in his chest as he struggled to control his breathing. He shivered as a bead of sweat ran down his back.

Being able to breathe somewhat normally, Mark swung his legs over the side. He sat, looking out at the stars through the small porthole before bringing an elbow to a knee and resting his forehead in his open palm. What the hell is going on with me?

The bed shifted as another weight stirred. “That’s the third one since I’ve been up here.”

“It was just a dream,” Mark said as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

A welcome buffet of moving air caught him by surprise, as Spitfire used a wing to fan off Mark. “Dreams don’t leave you a mess. Seriously, I’ve chewed out new recruits that didn’t sweat as much as you are right now.”

He stood. “Okay, so I had a nightmare.”

“Those don’t happen without a purpose.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember how you first met Luna?”

Mark thought back to the first night he had spent in orbit. “Well, yeah.”

“She has the power to change and alter dreams… if she chooses to.”

“So she’s letting me have these nightmares?”

“Basically, yes. She knows something you don’t.”

“Gah, what a bitch.” Spitfire glared. “Well… she should just tell me then. I hate it when ponies beat around the bush.” Mark turned to Spitfire. “Why all the mysticism?”

“Sometimes it’s about the journey, not the destination.”

Mark groaned at the cliché phrase. “You’ve never taken a vacation with me. I apparently used to make my family wish for the destination.”

Spitfire rolled over, taking a majority of the blankets with her. “There’s no arguing with you.”

“I guess not,” Mark said as he let the rest of his breath escape through his nose. A glare of reflected light from the planet came through the porthole, giving his quarters some illumination. Still doesn’t feel like my quarters, though. “Remember when I said there was a combat fatigue specialist here?”

“Vaguely.”

Mark moved to sit on his bed. “There wasn’t.”

Spitfire sat up and scooted herself to recline on the adjacent wall. “Marcus… why would you lie about something like that?”

“I got caught up in the moment, okay?” Mark blurted as he waved a dismissive hand. “Twilight was questioning why I was so… non-phased about human extinction, I was scrambling for an answer and it just… kinda came out.”

“But why?” Spitfire asked as she wrapped her forelegs around Mark from behind. “Why lie in the first place?”

“I really didn’t want to talk about it then.”

The pegasus’s lips made contact and gently pressed into Mark’s right cheek. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“Which was…”

“Why lie?”

Mark sighed. “It’s a long story.”

The mare’s forelegs unwound themselves. “You’re not going to give me a straight answer, are you?” Mark didn’t respond. “If you won’t tell me, will you at least see somepony about it, an actual specialist?”

“Maybe.”

“I suppose that’s about as good as a response as I’m going to get,” Spitfire said as she laid back down. “I know a guy in Manehattan that some of the ‘bolts see when they have issues.” She looked at Mark once again. “If I make the appointment, will you go?”

“I will… for you.”

She leaned up and gave Mark a kiss. “Good enough.”

Post-Equus arrival, day 145
16:43, Canterlot Standard Time
Office of Dr. Cervello, Manehattan

He was already regretting his promise. Why the hell couldn’t she have gotten me an earlier time?

Mark bounced his knee nervously in the mostly deserted waiting area, his only company being the receptionist, a pegasus stallion who Mark assumed was the spouse or partner of somepony currently in a session, and an odd palm-like plant. The waiting room was square, the walls painted an off-gray save for the yellow sunlight that snuck its way in through the western facing window. A circle of maroon-colored, (what felt to be) faux-suede chairs lined the walls, and it was quiet.

On any other day, this would have been a haven for Mark. His knee, clad in the fatigues of his Class-B uniform, would not stop moving. Even when he put an entire arm on his thigh, it refused to cease.

A door opened beside the reception work area, and a unicorn mare clutching a pile of tissues slowly walked out. The pony who had waited with Mark trotted up to the mare, and was quickly taken, borderline tackled, into a deep hug. The two simply smiled, and walked out without having said a word.

Mark was becoming very nervous now. He let out a worried “Mmmm” before the door opened again. “Marcus Frude?” the receptionist called out.

Uneasy legs straightened as Mark lifted himself out of his chair. He gave one last glance around the room before walking through the threshold leading back to a cramped hallway. A final door, made of what looked to be mahogany, was what separated him from fulfilling his promise to Spitfire. “Doctor Cervello will see you now,” the receptionist said before turning back to her station.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Mark said before eyeing the handle. You can still back out, ya know.

I will… for you, a voice inside his head said.

“Ah… piss.” Mark knocked.

“One moment!” A cheery, deep-toned voice said through the door. A moment and what sounded like a book closing later, the door opened to a chocolate brown Earth pony with a jet black combed-over mane, complementing handlebar moustache, and dark brown eyes. “Ah, Marcus Frude!” the stallion eagerly reached out with both forelegs, and Mark instinctively outstretched a hand. The stallion took it and gave it a vigorous shake. “So good to meet you! Please, do come in and have a seat!”

“Thank you, sir,” Mark acknowledged before stepping in. Doctor Cervello’s office was quite the contrast from the waiting area. A dark cream carpet was beneath his shoes, oak shelves housed books along the walls, and a large window faced south, away from the city and to the bay. A painting of hues of blue hung between bookshelves, giving him the abstract impression of falling rain . Mark sat in the spongy chair that faced the desk.

“Oh, please, you may call me Psy. ‘Sir’ is reserved for my father. And, might I call you…”

“Mark is fine. Marcus is reserved for my mother.”

“We all have our little quips about our names, do we not?” Psy asked as he took his seat behind his desk. “Like I refuse to acknowledge someone who just calls me ‘doc.’ I worked very hard and spent a good number of bits for my doctoral degree.”

“That’s pretty forward there, Psy.”

He smiled. “I’m a forward pony. I’m told it’s one of my best traits… or at least that’s what my wife tells me. No sense in faffing about.”

Mark nodded. “I like your style.”

Psy gave a short laugh. “That’s good to know. But, we are not here to talk about bluntness, we’re here to talk about you!” He opened the manilla folder in front of him while putting on a pair of reading glasses. “Most of my patients make their own appointments, but Spitfire made yours.”

“I told her that I would come see you. She was getting concerned.”

“About your nightmares?”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing she told you.”

He held out a hoof. “No more than I needed to know, among some other information. Brief history, stuff like that.” His eyes scrolled down the paper. “I do find it curious that you don’t tell her about these nightmares you have.”

“It’s just a dream, really. No sense in getting all worked up about it.”

“Do you trust her?” Psy asked without looking up.

“Of course,” Mark answered, with all seriousness in his voice.

“It is a recurring dream, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“Mmmm,” Psy hummed as he brought a hoof to his chin. “Tell me about this… nightmare.”

Mark sat back deeper in the chair. “At first, it’s dark. I’m on a training exercise, getting ejected into space to simulate an emergency, though I never see the ejection. I’m floating there, and I know there’s a planet below me, and I call out for help and no one responds. I look for my craft -- gone. I turn and look at the planet, and I see these glowing yellow and orange clusters. I figure it’s cities, but their too far apart to be Earth. The sun comes up over the horizon, and I realize it’s Equus, and the cities I saw are burning. I move over the ocean, and the blue waters run red. A glimmer makes me turn again, and I see the Caprica, but she’s all destroyed and in pieces. I hurtle toward the debris, and right as I smash into the bow, I wake up.”

Psy had been listening intently as Mark spoke, before pulling back and drawing a breath. “So what do you think of it?”

“C’mon, Psy, if I knew, I don’t think you and I would be talking.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Psy made a note before closing the folder. “Are you a believer in destiny, Mark?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Might I ask why not?”

Mark shrugged. “I dunno. I was talking to Luna about this the first night I was here. I was trained not to think things like fate and destiny exist.” His head shook. “I mean, when I walk outside, it’s not my destiny if I get struck by lightening. It’s not my fate that I ate fish and green bean and dumpling soup today. It wasn’t my destiny that I… I…”

“Came to a planet inhabited by other sentient beings, being the only survivor of your entire species?” Psy finished.

Mark’s arms fell to his side. “Yeah… I guess.”

“You still chalk that up to luck?”

“Yes.”

Psy removed his glasses, placing them in a wooden case before looking back up. “You look tired.” Mark’s expression was puzzled. “Have you been fighting for a while?”

“All of my adult life.”

“The only thing you’ve ever known.” He made a note on a pad. “When did this dream begin?”

Mark thought back. “A couple of nights after my last mission.”

“Which was…”

“Striking General Neadle’s stronghold.”

“I see,” Psy said with a nod. “So, do you believe you have brought this… cycle of destruction here?”

Mark’s face scrunched. “I mean, I came in a warship. So, yeah.”

Psy rubbed his eyes. This wasn’t where he wanted Mark to be. Shot in the dark, he thought as he worded his next question. “Tell me… about your final engagement. At Earth.”

Mark went quiet. His face became stone. “I don’t see how that has to do with this,” he answered, almost robotically.

That’s the ticket. “I think it does. Let’s start basic. Numbers.”

“Three hundred and seventy seven ships, not counting fighters, and including one hundred and twenty Battlestars of various classes.”

“Good, good.” Psy made another note. “And, the others, these…”

“Dridens.” Another note. “Approximately thirteen hundred.”

“That’s an uphill fight.”

“Had nothing left to lose,” Mark said nonchalantly. “We all knew it was all or nothing. We didn’t care about the numbers.”

Psy nodded in acknowledgement. “Tell me the details. You see them coming. You’re flying.” The stallion motioned a hoof for Mark to continue.

“To be honest, I don’t really remember much.”

“Now you’re just skirting it.” Psy saw Mark’s hand grip the edge of the armrest with white knuckle strength. “You remember everything.”

“I-I-It’s embarrassing.”

“And it’s eating you alive.”

Mark’s hands slammed down. “I was the first one out, okay!?” The sudden outburst shocked himself as he felt himself come out of his seat. He settled again.

“Of your squad?”

“No… of everyone.” Mark’s eyes turned shamefully down to the floor. “I made a mistake. There was this maneuver we used to do for Driden fighter swarms. Your squad would approach, then fan out into a pentagon formation, turn your nose at the swarm and fire… hope you hit something. This time I --” he took a breath “-- I saw the swarm coming, and the ships behind it, and I froze. Couldn’t move my stick, my pedals… nothing. I just went in.”

“So you were shot down.”

“That’s the worst part about it. Some Driden prick just ran into me. When I snapped back, I tried to bank and we bumped. I lost my main thruster, weapons, coolant to the engine. So I had to eject. I don’t remember anything after that. Next thing I know I woke up in a bed on the Winter’s Bane, and they tell me we’re not at Earth anymore.”

Psy slowly nodded. “So tell me, do you feel responsible for the loss at Earth?”

Mark continued to stare at the carpet. “Partially.” He looked up. “I mean, if I had just followed formation like I was supposed to, like I had before --”

“Marcus,” Psy started, in a much more serious tone, “I’m going to tell you something, even though you’re not going to believe me.” A tense moment passed. “The loss of Earth was not your fault.” He heard Mark sniff. “Yes, you made a mistake. But would it have mattered if you hadn’t?”

“I would have felt like I made a bigger difference, or at least gone out swinging.”

“Oh, if only we could change the past. But we can’t.. What’s done is done.” Psy sat forward. “And the war -- your war -- is over.”

“Yeah,” Mark agreed with a few head bobs. “War’s over. We lost.”

Psy’s head went askew. “Not quite. What are you, Mr. Frude?”

Mark’s eyes went to Psy. “What do you mean?”

“What are you?”

“Uhhhh… a pilot.”

“More general.”

“A citizen of Equestria.”

“What sets you apart from the others?”

“I’m a human?”

“Right. And what was the mission of the Dridens?”

Mark thought. “To exterminate human life.”

“Right!” The zeal of Psy made Mark jump into the back of the chair. “Don’t you see, Mr. Frude!?”

“No…”

“They failed their mission, Mark. They failed!” Psy saw Mark start to sit a little taller. “Your mistake set forward a chain of events that led you here. Now, whether or not it’s accounted to destiny or simple luck, only time will tell. But for now, that one little mistake… saved your life, and ensured your own little victory by denying theirs.”

Mark’s hand went to his chin. An old feeling was starting to well within him. “I never thought of it that way.”

“Now you see why you came?” Psy asked with a wide smile. “You came here, thinking that your defeat spelled doom for Equus. But, in fact, you came here a victorious warrior.” Psy came around from his desk, approaching Mark and leveling himself with Mark’s eyes. “You will always be a warrior, Mark. But what we do does not define us. Not entirely. It’s also what we think, what we feel, and what we know.”

Mark then could identify the feeling. Pride. “I think I understand,” he said as he wiped a tear away.

“And what better way to know more than to use the Caprica for her intended purpose?” Mark gave Psy a questioning eye. “There are seven other planets that orbit the sun. Perhaps, go visit them. Be an explorer instead of the warrior.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Doc.” Psy’s expression went disgruntled. “Sorry, I had to work one in since you called me Marcus.”

Psy laughed. “Fair enough.” He looked to a clock. “Well, we still have fifteen minutes left in our session.”

Mark stood. “I don’t think I need them.”

The stallion sized Mark up. “You look ready to conquer the world.”

“Not conquer. Explore,” Mark said with a smile.

Psy held out a hoof. “I wish you well, Captain.”

“Thank you, Doctor Cervello.” Mark shook Psy’s hoof before turning and leaving the office. The sun was still in its last hour of being above the horizon as Mark pulled out his handheld, hoping that Celestia would pick up his transmission.

She did. “Marcus! Good to see you out and about!”

“Good evening ma’am. I have a proposition for you.”

Post-Equus arrival, day 155
18:37, Canterlot Standard Time
Commander’s quarters, Caprica

Mark mindlessly stared at the massive number of tabs still open on his tablet. Provisional requests, personnel records, current inventory numbers, system repairs and updates, output charts… It never ends, he thought. I miss the days when all I had to do was fill out a duty roster for the week. Spitfire had been a tremendous help with the recruiting process. With her being more familiar with the Equestrian Armed Forces, she would screen a pool of volunteers before giving it to Mark for his approval. She was on a meal break when a knock came from the hatch, but Mark could tell it wasn’t a hoof that had knocked. He raised his eyes to the ajar door. “Come in.”

The hatch opened with a squeak, revealing a Griffon. “Good evening, sir.”

“Gilda!” Mark said with surprise. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon. How are things?”

“Things are… okay,” she hesitantly replied.

“Good. I’m glad to hear.” Mark observed the satchel around her shoulder. “So, I don’t mean to be rude, but… why are you here?”

“Oh, of course.” Gilda reached into her bag. “Orders.”

Mark immediately recognized the seal of Celestia before breaking it and skimming the note. “...effective immediately… citizen of Equestria… Equestrian Navy… immediate deployment on the Type 271-BXR Caprica?” He looked up.

“That’s confirmed, sir.” Gilda saluted.

Mark gave the note another once-over before setting it aside. “Did you specifically request the Caprica?”

“I did, sir.”

“Why? It may not be important to the princesses, but it’s important to me.”

“Well…” she hadn’t been prepared to answer why she requested the Caprica for her deployment, “I really have no where else to go.”

“Home, back in the Griffon Kingdom?”

“It was condemned.”

“Friends? Family?”

“About the only pony I ever considered a friend was Rainbow Dash, and I almost lost her, too. I want to make a positive change.” A smirk came across her beak. “That, and I hear you’re the best flyer up here.”

“I believe so.”

“Well then, I’m going to have to take that away from you.”

“Ah, a pilot then?”

Gilda nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Well then.” Mark popped up from his seat. “Unpack your bags, cadet. I enjoy a good challenge.” He banged on the bulkhead. “Des, ya there?”

A hologram materialized on his desk. “Always, sir.”

“Official log entry. New addition to the roster. Gilda. Cadet pilot.”

“Entry logged,” Des said after a second of computing. “Shall I assign the recruit some quarters in the Pilot’s Row?”

“Absolutely.”

“Very good, sir. Right this way.” Des motioned to lead Gilda out.

“Oh, before I forget.” Gilda took two steps before about-facing back to Mark. She reached into her bag again. “This is from Princess Luna.” She held out a small jeweler's box. “She said, ‘You earned it, after all.’”

Mark took the box. “Thank you, cadet. You’re dismissed.” The two exited as Mark opened the small container. “No way…”

Post-Equus arrival, day 185
07:59, Canterlot Standard Time
Just outside the bridge, Caprica

Mark pulled down his shirt, pressing it to his torso. “You look fine,” Spitfire commented. “Stop worrying.”

“There’s just this one little crease --”

Spitfire fluttered up and gave Mark a quick kiss. “It’s fine.”

“If you say so.” They turned to the hatch, bringing it open.

Silver Star was the first to see him walk in. “Commander on the deck!”

All ponies stood at attention. Mark gave a walk-around the deck, inspecting each station. “As you were,” he finally said, letting the ponies resume their duties.

“Commander,” Spitfire called from the helm, “I believe it’s time.”

“You are correct, Captain.” He brought up the mic for shipwide broadcast, pressing the “Talk” button.

“All hands, this is the Commander. As of oh-eight-hundred hours, the complement of the Caprica, all four hundred and seventy of us, have been officially deployed on active duty. Our orders are as followed: To conduct routine patrol while also researching the planetoids of this solar system, including, but not limited to, topographical charting, composition scans, and sample testing. We will be going to the planets that orbit Celestia’s sun.

“While this mission seems a simple one, we will also be conducting combat drills and readiness exercises, along with other training scenarios. The length of this mission is indeterminate, however it will not last longer than one year. Celestia’s orders.

“We will be leaving orbit shortly. All crews, to their stations. Caprica Actual, out.” Mark punched the mic back into his holder. “Helm, whaddya say we start at the center and move our way out?”

Wind Burst was already typing in the commands. “Targeting Aithon and moving to match orbital planes.”

Mark nodded in approval. “All stations, report! Helm.”

“Go!”

“Tactical.”

“Go!”

“Navigation.”

“Go!”

“Comms.”

“Go!”

“Sensory.”

“Go!”

Mark picked up the mic, pushing a button. “Port flight deck, status.”

“Everything’s good to go down here, Commander!”

He hit another button. “Starboard flight deck, report.”

“Starboard flight deck is standing by!”

Another button. "Pilots, you good to go?"

"C.A.G. reporting. We're ready when you are," Gilda replied.

Mark pressed one more button. “Engine room, status.”

“Ball Bearing, reporting! Core is at one hundred percent efficiency. Jump drives are still down, but I don’t see how that’s going to be a problem.”

“Very well.” He set the mic down again, turning to Des’s shimmering blue figure. “Ready to go for a drive?”

“I’d thought you never ask,” she said with a grin. “I was starting to get dizzy from all the circles.”

“Don’t you sass me.”

“Sir!” Wind Burst called from the helm. “We have aligned with the orbital plane. Transfer window in thirty seconds.”

Mark looked down at the navigation chart. The small, rocky planetoid was highlighted, as was their projected flight path. “Second star to the right…” he said to himself.

“Hmmm?” Spitfire hummed.

“An old play, from when I was a boy.” The countdown was quickly approaching zero. Marked looked to the countdown and saw only five seconds left. “Ready thrusters. Engage.”

The blue hue of the Caprica’s afterburners came alive, propelling the four hundred and seventy members of the Equestrian Navy away from Equus, and toward Celestia’s bright and shining star.

Epilogue - Is There Anypony Out There?

Post-Equus arrival, day 202
03:04, Canterlot Standard Time
Bridge, Caprica

“Thirty-three minutes… mark,” Mark heard Des say as he shut his eyes. “We are now at hour eighty-two, and all stations are reporting.”

“Very well,” Mark half-muttered. The stress drill was beginning to take a toll on his own mind, and the twenty minute power naps between simulated emergency jumps were beginning to lose their effectiveness. He took a moment to reopen his eyelids to observe his bridge staff. Many were doing the same as he was, laying back a little further, taking the precious time to relax, at the very least.

Mark put a wireless headset on and pushed a few buttons on his handset. “Bridge to sick bay. Report, doctor.”

“We’ve just admitted three more ponies suffering from exhaustion,” Doctor Heart Beat said. “We’re now up to thirty-seven.”

“Hang in there, Doctor,” Mark reassured the physician. “This test is about to end. Bridge, out.” He removed his headset, placing it back on its rack before standing from his seat and walking to the charting console. Des was materialized beside it, eyes closed and chin down, bright flows of information going from toe to head as she prepared the next simulation. “Hey, Des?”

“Hmmm?” she hummed without looking up.

“Do you have the information you need to make a formulated conclusion?”

“I believe so,” she answered with a small nod.

“Okay. Abort next simulation.” Des’s form dimmed as her calculations came to a stop. She now looked to Mark. “I think we pushed them enough.”

“Very well, sir. Do you want me to stop the countdown?”

“No, go ahead and keep it rolling. Think of how rewarding it will be when it runs out and nothing shows up.”

Des couldn’t help but to give a small giggle. “Roger that, Commander.”

The next half-hour passed slowly for Mark, as he opted to not take his usual twenty minute power nap. Spitfire had instead taken his seat, dozing with the rest of the bridge staff. Mark stood, taking a tablet and reading the results of the stress test put together by Des. “Under stressed conditions,” the report read, “ship functionality and crew optimization maintained, on average, at eighty-seven percent of pretest levels.”

Huh, that’s pretty good, Mark thought, continuing to the next page. A graph displayed the overall “efficiency” of the crew, taking in factors such as response time, accuracy of orders completed, and time between jumps. The linear graph showed a decline over time, but he had expected just that.

Mark looked back at the countdown to see there were only two minutes left. He reholstered the tablet in its holding slot and walked around the bridge, waking the staff. “Alright, ponies. Let’s get ready for jump one-forty-nine.” Snorts and snores started to sound off as the crew came back to life. Voices soon followed as orders went into headsets. “Sixty seconds on the clock. All stations, report.”

One by one, station leaders called out their status as they had done one hundred and forty-nine times before. When the final station reported ready, the countdown read 00:30. “Standby for enemy contacts,” Mark said to his bridge staff. Steel Hoof locked eyes with the sensor readouts, ready to call out their positions as soon as they arrived.

Mark read out the final seconds. “Three… two… one…” An alarm buzzed as the clock hit zero. It was quickly silenced as the crew stood ready to receive the simulated enemy, but when nothing appeared on the sensor readouts, the murmur of voices circled around him. “Lieutenant Steel Hoof, report.”

“Sensors report a clean sweep, sir,” Steel Hoof said.

“Music to my ears,” Mark said as he grabbed the shipwide broadcast mic. “All hands… well done. You can all rest easy now. The test is over, and I must say, I’m impressed by your discipline and conviction. I know you are all tired--” a beeping came from the sensor readouts “--which is why I’m ordering all ponies--”

“Sir!” Steel Hoof frantically called out. “Contact!”

“Standby,” Mark quickly said before putting the mic back. He jogged over to the readout. “Des, I thought I said no more simulations.”

She materialized by Mark. “I’m not running a simulation.”

The three gazed at the screen, showing a blip labeled “Unidentified Contact.” “Run a diagnostic.”

A flow of information ran through Des. “Diagnostic complete. Sensors are operational.” Mark and Des looked to each other. “There’s something out there that wasn’t there before.”

Mark broke eye contact, looking around the bridge. The faces of the tired ponies had been replaced with ones of fear and uncertainty. “Battle stations! Set Condition One! This is not a drill!”

Author's Note

"It's finished."
"No, I have a feeling we're just getting started."

Before I start book two, would you (the reader) appreciate a story that updates weekly on a specific day, or the "Whenever I get the next chapter done" method I was using? Leave a comment sharing you opinion.

Don't Push That Button

A shocked silence permeated through every nook and cranny of the throne room. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you.” She gave her head a quick shake, as if to remove water from an ear. “It sounded like you said you asked for a crew.”

“No mistake, ma’am. That’s exactly for what I asked.”

Mark couldn’t tell if Celestia still didn’t understand his request, or if his words simply didn’t make sense in her own mind. “Might I ask why you would make such a bold appeal so soon in your new military career?”

“I’ll admit, your highness, I’ve been debating myself this very morning on whether or not to make my statement about the Caprica’s need of having a crew aboard her decks again. To put it simply...” He paused. “The Caprica is dying. Des has to put more effort into keeping her in orbit. Her engines need service, as do about a hundred other systems. I am only one man, and can only do so much. By the time I have repaired one component of a system, three more pop up at the diagnostics station as sending red flags.”

“So your plan of action is to bring up a group of soldiers--”

“Volunteers. And any engineers that might be able to lend a hoof.”

“--and have them do… what, exactly?”

“Prevent the Caprica from exploding.” The sound of gasps and feelings of shock filled the hall. “She’s in worse shape that what we thought. The ship’s faster-than-light drives were thought to be fried and unusable, but apparently they have been working all along, and have put a huge drain on the main power supply. And it’s only getting worse day by day. We need to manually take the drives offline until such a time they can be fixed, and then restore full power back to the sublight engines.”

“This can’t be done yourself?” Twilight asked.

“Unfortunately, no. The two slipspace drives were installed in such a way the only way to take them offline is to remove the power manually. Thing about it is they have to be taken offline at the same time, or the power will redirect to one drive. This was an intended design. In case either one of the drives were destroyed or disabled, the ship could still make a jump, theoretically. It was never tested. With the state that they’re in, taking them offline one at a time will either lead to an entire power failure and she will never be able to run under her own power again, or blow up the entire stern of the ship, raining down fragments large enough to cause harm to anypony on the surface. It needs to be resolved now if we’re going to save the slipspace drives. It’s also throwing random power fluctuations all throughout the ship, and it’s affecting other vital components.”

Celestia let out a tired sigh “If you can find the volunteers, they are yours.”

“Thank you, your highness,” Mark gave a small bow.

The double doors opened, and a very travel-worn Luna strode in. “Sister, good to see you again.” Celestia turned to Twilight and Mark. “Luna has been in the Griffon Kingdom for the last month, helping with the political tension that has been growing there. I know you are weary, Luna, but while Twilight and Mark are present, can you give at least a summarized report?”

“I can, sister. It seems the conflict of the Griffon Clans has come to light once again. I am sure you are all familiar with the history of the Clans?” Twilight nodded. “Mark?”

Mark scratched his head. “I vaguely remember reading something about them. The Goldclaws and the Grayclaws, if I’m remembering it correctly.”

She nodded. “Yes. As you may know, the Grayclaws are the older of the two clans. However, most ponies do not know that they share a common ancestor. In ancient times, all Griffons were Grayclaws, residing in the temperate north of their kingdom, until a war and feudal split sent a sect of Griffons to the south. The exact cause of the split has been lost to time, but many spoken tales tell of a great betrayal to their king, so those who opposed him were banished. These hot, dry southern lands were thought to be uninhabitable, but through feats of engineering, like aqueducts, and finding very fertile soil for planting and rivers for fishing, this splinter group flourished.”

Celestia continued. “It is thought that the exposure to so much warm sun changed their claws from gray to gold over many generations. A group of the newly renamed ‘Goldclaws’ found their way back to their Grayclaw brothers, but the king at the time thought them changed, foul, and unworthy of calling themselves ‘Griffons,’ and started a war of extermination against the Goldclaws. With the knowledge of the southern lands on their side, the Goldclaws fought the Grayclaws to a standstill, and the war ended with the Griffon Kingdom being split into two nations.”

“I’ve seen maps of the Griffon Kingdom before. It’s all one continuous nation, is it not?” Mark asked.

“It is now,” Luna answered. “Five hundred years before the rise of Nightmare Moon, the northern Griffon Kingdom suffered a famine, and the Goldclaws were more than happy to reconcile with their Grayclaw brothers. A year later, the two nations became one again, but the feelings of animosity still lingered, and still exist to this day. And it is unfortunate that there is one Griffon in particular who is using this hostility for political gain.”

“Let me guess.” One of Mark’s hands went to a hip. “An up-and-coming politician is using the Goldclaws as a scapegoat to show his faithful constituents everything that is wrong with their country.”

“Up-and-coming, yes. Politician, no. His name is High General Neadle, and he is the military commander-in-chief for the Griffon Kingdom. Highly motivated, deeply conservative, and, worst of all… charismatic. During my time overseas, I saw thousands drawn for a speech he gave.”

“That’s never a good combination.” Mark stroked his shaven chin. “I’ve seen this happen before. Figurehead fabricates an excuse and blames someone else for it.” He looked to Celestia. “Nothing good will become of this.”

“I have already briefed my commanding officers of the Royal Army, Navy, and Air Force, but they seem to not think it’s of any concern.”

“For now.” Mark pulled out a handheld tablet, making a note. “The Caprica will start monitoring the Griffon Kingdom as soon as we get this matter of the slipspace drives resolved.”

“Monitoring?” Celestia asked in dismay. “Are you sure that is wise?”

“I’ll just see what is going on… from a safe distance.” Mark put away his tablet. “But if you will all excuse me, I have some recruiting to do.”

Post-Equus arrival, day 100
14:45 hours, Canterlot time
Caprica

“No one realizes how much of a pain in the ass all the trips back and forth were better than me,” Mark explained to Spitfire as he led his group to engineering. “If I could have, I would have brought the ship down and used the mechanical lifts. But then again I didn’t know I was going to have a volunteer group of two hundred and forty two.”

“That would have been an easier time on all of us,” the captain of the Wonderbolts replied. “Wouldn’t have taken two days just to get your complement up here.”

A lanky unicorn engineer sheepishly tried to speak. “I found the flight wondrous.”

His words were once again ignored by the two captains who had been bickering since the surface. “Aye, but with the condition she’s in, I doubt we would have been able to get her back up into space, so excuse me for not being timely. It was either that or train some ponies in Hopper flying.”

“With the way things are going with the Griffons, that might not be a bad idea. The reports of random break-ins by Grayclaws into private residences is more than worrisome.”

“So she told you about it, too?”

She shook her head. “Not exactly. I heard it through a friend who heard it through a friend who heard it from somepony else. ‘Course, by the time I heard about things, who knows what they say is even true anymore, let alone relevant.”

“Hearing things through the grapevine has its way of distorting facts,” Mark agreed, reaching into a nearby cabinet and giving his group headsets. “Alright, this should reduce most of the noise while we’re in there. Be sure to talk loud and clear into the microphone. Once we’re inside, I’ll give you instructions on how to take the drives off from the mains.” He donned his own headset. “Can y’all hear me?” All ponies nodded. “Very good. This should be an easy fix, but if not done correctly, we’ll either all die quickly and painlessly, or have a slim chance of making it off the ship in time.”

Opening the hatch into the engineering section filled the compartment before with the smells of burning electrical components and the sound of having a malfunctioning motor placed inside an ear. Though the headsets did provide some protection, Mark could see the engineers were still startled by the sudden loudness of the machinery and hesitant to enter.

The great slipspace drives, to the untrained eye, looked to be nothing more than cuboidal shapes coming out of the vibrating deck, but to Mark, he knew they were humanity’s greatest achievement. “Alright, eggheads, c’mere and I’ll show you how this is done.” The three unicorns trotted nervously next to the port-side drive. “Okay, this panel here--” he pointed to a rectangular plate on a section leading from the deck to the drive, “--will give you access to the main power line. Unscrew these screws, I’ll do the same on the starboard, and await further instructions.”

Spitfire followed Mark to the starboard drive. “Were you being serious about teaching some ponies about flying those Jumpers?”

“You mean Hoppers?”

“Yeah, yeah, you know what I meant.”

“Absolutely.” Mark removed a small handheld drill from a pocket, changing the head to a flat head bit. “I mean, may as well. If we’re gonna have a crew aboard the Caprica again, we probably should train everypony in her intended use.” The last screw holding the plate came loose, and Mark pulled it from its place. The power line was immediately visible, a black, plastic-coated cable three inches in diameter. “Alright, you set over there?” Mark asked as he looked back at the engineers.

“Yes, I believe we are ready,” Ball Bearing replied.

“Do you see the junction between the two lines?”

“I believe so. These two disks in the middle?”

“That’s it. There should be four clamps keeping them together. You need to take them off, but also need to keep the lines connected. Do that now.” While the ponies went to work, Mark began to unclasp the clamps on his side. When two of the clamps had been undone, he pushed the line up to make sure it would not lose its connection. Spitfire must have heard him groan, as he saw a pair of yellow legs pushing pushing the line up from below him.

“Thought you could use a pair of hooves,” she said, staring back up at him.

“Pair of hands might be more useful.” A small chuckle escaped as the final clamps were removed. He turned back to the engineers. “Okay, on the count of three, yank the line out of the junction as quickly as you can. Ready?”

“Wait!” One of the other engineers yelled. “On the count of three, or three and then go?”

“On the count. It’s faster that way. Ready to go?” All three nodded. “One… two… THREE!” With an overdone heave, the line separated from the junction, sending Mark backwards. Immediately the sounds of the drives powering down replaced the great noise of the running systems, the drives quite literally coming to a grinding halt. Even the faces of the engineers winced to hear the metal-on-metal noise.

“You okay, cap?” Spitfire trotted to Mark.

“Yep, yep, just showed a bit too much enthusiasm is all.” Mark popped back to his feet, brushing himself off. He removed his noise-reducing headset. “Much better.”

“So what do we do with these lines now?” one of the other unicorns asked.

“Just push the line back into the bulkhead and reseal the plate. I highly doubt we’ll shake the ship enough to force them back into contact.”

“Bridge to Captain Frude,” Mark heard Des call on the ship’s speakers.

He quickly walked to the comm plate near the hatch. “Go ahead, Des.”

“I am happy to report that the drives were successfully taken offline. Power fluctuations have ceased, and the sublight drives are back at one hundred percent.”

“Great news. I’ll brief them on what else needs to be done. Frude out.” Mark took a tablet from his belt. “Gentlecolts, this will provide you a list of things that need to be done throughout the ship. Most of what is on here are most likely systems that have had a component jarred loose. Ignore the section on sealant inspections. I’ll have to do that myself since that involves an exterior view of the hull. If you have any questions--” he pointed to the comm panel, “--find one of these and press the blue button. That will get you directly to Des, who will hopefully help you with anything you need. Questions?” The engineers held their voices. “Fantastic. Feel free to make notes about anything you see.”

“So what about me?” Spitfire asked. “Got anything for me to do?”

“Well, I did promise you a tour,” Mark said as he moved toward the hatch. “C’mon, we’re near my favorite part of the ship.”

On the deck above engineering and through the crew mess hall was the emergency landing bay. During times of an escape, these two small compartments at the rear of the ship could be opened to space and recover Hoppers and Cobras, but only five Cobras per bay, and three Hoppers if they were landed correctly. It was also the hardest landing for a pilot. Having to come from the rear meant having to fight the ionized engine wash from the ship, and the compact size of the bay meant a smaller target to land on.

But to Mark, the window to the view outside was always worth the work. To others (when the crew was still all human), it was simply another part of the ship. He was never really sure what it was about this spot that he felt the most at peace here. The deck lights were off and the only illumination came from the sun, hidden by one of the ion engines. “Here it is. My ‘zone of zen’ as I like to call it.”

Spitfire hadn’t seemed phased by space on the Hopper ride up from the surface, but the emotion began to pour out of the mare as they moved into the compartment and toward the bay window. “Wow…” was all she could mutter for a time. “It’s so…beautiful.”

I guess it’s the charm of the place. “Yeah, it sure is something.”

“What is it about here that makes it so special?”

“Ya know, I’ve thought about that, and I don’t really know.” His sight shifted from the stars to the golden mare. “I think what I like most about this place is that it was hardly used. When I was tired of seeing the same four walls of my own quarters but still wanted to be alone, this is where I would come. I spent quite a bit of time here after we had to ditch Earth.”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t have a certain… appeal to it,” her discipline seemed to reawaken within her.

“Oh, come on!” he said as he leaned against the window. “You can’t tell me that this place just has ‘appeal.’ You’re about as bad at showing emotion as my mother.”

Spitfire returned an angry squint. “Low blow.”

“You’re right, it was. And I’m sorry.”

She gave a cackle of laughter. “If you’re going to have the nerve to insult me, at least have the backbone to pony up to it.”

“Oh… somepony who majored in reverse psychology. Aren’t you ever the clever one?” Mark said as he felt a sarcastic grin come across his lip. “And here I was about to offer you to be my executive officer and second-in-command.”

Spitfire’s jaw dropped, “Really??”

“Yes, really.” He stood upright again. “Celestia sent me your military record when you volunteered for this mission, and I read that you were punctual, blunt, decisive, and disciplined… and not afraid if ponies hate you because of it. Or in other words, exactly what I’m looking for in an XO. You don’t have to take it, of course, but the list of candidates is rather short.”

“Just one question. Does it mean giving up the Wonderbolts?”

“That’s up to you,” Mark replied with a shrug. “You won’t be doing as much flying with them as you were, but we won’t be up here twenty-four/seven either. If you feel like you can balance it, I won’t stop you.”

“I'll have to think about it. The Wonderbolts isn’t something I can just toss aside.”

Mark smiled. “There’s no rush. I mean she’s not gonna see combat ever again.” His smile quickly turned to a frown. “But a warship without a war isn’t a warship.” His eyes shifted to the stars. “Maybe I should have ditched her in the Sun like I was supposed to.” A warrior without a war isn’t a warrior either, he thought. Maybe I should go with it.

“Hey.” she punched him in the shoulder. “I know that look. That ‘I should go down with the ship’ look.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I’ve already lost everything else. My home, my family… it’s all gone.”

“Not everything.” She gestured to him. “You still have your life, Des, your friends, and… well that’s all that I can think of right now that doesn’t involve anything Caprica-related. You still have her, by the way.”

“And what am I supposed to do with her? I can’t just sit here and keep spinning around the same rock in space for the rest of my days.”

“Where else will you go? Can’t jump anywhere, can’t go back, can’t go out there.” She pointed out the window. “At least not for long. How long can you survive on just your hydroponic food?”

“I dunno,” Mark answered, defeated. “Not long enough to find another habitable planet.”

“Exactly. So it looks like you’re stuck here with me.” Her ears perked as high as they could go when she realized the last word she said. “Us. You’re stuck here with us.”

A silence followed as Spitfire turned her gaze back toward the stars. Mark turned to see the faint sign of a blush in her cheeks. “Thanks,” he quietly said. She met his eyes with her own. “I needed that… someone to bring be back to Earth.” She smiled warmly. The silence returned to the compartment as the Sun ducked under the horizon.

The silence was broken when Des’s voice rang throughout the ship. “Bridge to Captain Frude.”

Mark gave a disappointed sigh, moving instead to the comm panel. “This is Mark,” he unenthusiastically said.

“Captain, we’re getting a priority one transmission from Canterlot. It’s Celestia.”

“I show her how to use the communicator one time, and a day later she’s already using it.” He let out another sigh. “Patch it through to here.”

“It’s a priority one call, sir.”

“I’m aware, and whatever is said in front of me can also be said in front of the captain.”

“As you wish.” Des’s voice had gone from serious to cheerful. “It is nice to see that you two have started to play nice.”

“Des, have you been watching us this whole time?” he quickly asked.

“Patching you through now, sir!” A brief moment of static later, the sounds of an active mic came through the speaker.

“Yes, Princess Celestia, what can I do for you?”

“HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME?” the princess shouted.

“Well, I WAS able to hear you, but now I can’t because I think my ears are bleeding. Try speaking softer.”

“Oh, my apologies. Des said to speak loudly into the microphone.”

“Not that loud.” Mark wiggled a finger in an ear. “Anyway, what’s up?”

“I thought I would let you know, since you are monitoring that particular part of the world, that Princess Cadance has volunteered to serve as the next envoy to the Griffon Kingdom. Would you ever be so kind as to watch over her?”

“We’ll do our best to keep an eye on her, but sometimes signals can get lost in the ground clutter. I’ll talk to Des and see if we can do something to get a permanent fix on her.”

“Any effort will help,” Celestia said.

“You can count on us, Princess.”

“Very well.” There was a momentary silence. “How does one end this?”

“You say your name and then say ‘out.’”

“Ah. Celestia out.” The comm crackled as the transmission was cut.

“Well, that was awkward,” Des chimed in on the comm.

“A little,” Mark said, “but not unusual when you’re about to send a loved one overseas into a possibly hostile environment.” Mark gave another sigh. “I’ll be up to the bridge in a minute, Des.”

“Aye, sir. I’ll let the bridge staff know you’re coming.”

Mark brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing his brow. “What do you think, captain?”

“I… think that sending Princess Cadance is a mistake,” she admitted.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Personally I think we should stay out of Griffon business. This isn’t the first time that this kind of a flare up has happened in my lifetime. Granted, I was still in diapers the last time the Grayclaw/Goldclaw conflict came back into world events, but nothing ever became of it.”

“Walk with me,” Mark ordered, beginning his trek to the bridge. “Let’s assume, for a moment, that this isn’t like the last time, that there are Grayclaw Griffons ready and poised to strike at their Goldclaw brothers because they have been convinced that they are not worthy of living. Do we still sit up here and do nothing? Or are we obligated to act?”

“Technically, we’re aren’t obligated to do anything, because we share no allegiance to either clan.”

Mark responded with a grumble. “Everything in my heart and gut says, ‘No, we need to act now,’ but all my tactical experience and my mind says, ‘We can’t.’ Our duty is to the protection of Equestria and her citizens, no matter how much we want to help. But--” he took a breath, “--that doesn’t mean we can’t be prepared to help, if the call comes. I might just take a couple of ponies out for a training run in a Hopper.”

The remaining trip was relatively silent, save for the few ponies that saluted their commanding officer. A unicorn just outside magically opened the hatch leading to the bridge, where an Earth pony stationed at tactical was first to see them. “Captain on the bridge!” he shouted. All other ponies stopped what they were doing and stood at attention.

“As you were,” Mark ordered. The various ponies resumed their duties. “Two days’ training.”

“Better than nothing,” Spitfire said soft enough that only Mark could hear.

“Captain Frude,” Des called from the star chart. “You have that look on your face.”

“And what look is that, Des?”

She walked over to where he stood. “That ‘I’ve got new orders’ look.”

“Well, you’d be right. Helm,” Mark called out, “move the ship to a geostationary orbit within view of the Griffon Kingdom.”

A dark gray pegasus with a jet black mane manning the helm quickly snapped his head around from his seat. “Beg your pardon, sir, but did you just--”

“Yes I did, cadet. Engage,” Mark commanded, a bit more forcefully that he intended. The pegasus promptly returned to his monitors to move the ship.

Des looked to the cadet. “I better go make sure he does it right.”

“Please do,” Mark said as he made his way to the chart. “I don’t want to burn up before we even get to our destination.” Mark picked up a mic for ship-wide broadcasts and pressed the ‘Talk’ button. “All hands, this is Captain Frude. At approximately fifteen hundred hours, we received a transmission from Princess Celestia herself, informing us that Princess Cadance will be travelling to the Griffon Kingdom. Given the new reports of random acts of violence that have been occurring in the Kingdom, Celestia has requested that we monitor Cadance’s movement throughout the country for her safety, and we will comply with her request.

“We are currently moving the ship into a geostationary orbit, and will be there for the entirety of her stay.” A mutter of hushed words circled the bridge. “I know what most of you are thinking. ‘This isn’t what I signed up for.’ And that is true, however, you are all members of the Equestrian Army and Navy, so consider your time here a royal protection detail. That being said, if anypony wishes to end their volunteer assignment early, inform a member of the bridge staff, Des, or myself, and we will arrange a Hopper back to Equestria. That is all.”

In the thirty minutes it took to reposition the Caprica, not one single pony requested to be taken back. The helmsman stood from his seat. “The ship is in position, sir.”

“Very well,” Mark said in acknowledgement. He raised his head from the charting station, showing a topographical map of the Griffon Kingdom. “What’s your name cadet?”

“Wind Burst, sir.”

“Fairly appropriate name.” Mark nodded. “Carry on.”

“Now what?” Spitfire asked.

“Now, we wait… and watch.”

Post-Equus arrival, day 116
08:32 hours, local time
Caprica, geostationary orbit above the Griffon Kingdom

“Sky Eye, this is Star Beam. We are on final approach.”

Thank the gods these ponies learn fast, Mark thought as he watched from flight control.

“Copy that, Star Beam. Deck is clear, cross-traffic is secure, and no exiting vehicles. You are green for stern-approach hooves-on landing on the starboard landing pod. Call the ball.”

“Roger. I have the ball.”

Mark immediately noticed the blip on the radar was moving much too fast. “Star Beam, this is Caprica Actual. Reduce speed by fifty meters per second.” The blip showed the change in the Hopper’s velocity. “Better.”

The blip disappeared as it entered the flight pod. “Star Beam has crossed the threshold, approaching landing platform,” Sky Eye informed the captain. “Star Beam has landed… and has powered down.”

“You know, Star Beam,” Mark said to the pilot via headset, “if you break any one of my birds, you pay for it to get replaced.”

“I think if the Hopper had broken up, I would have most likely ended up dead,” he retorted.

“That still doesn’t mean I won’t come after you in the afterlife. So what did you learn on this flight?”

“Go into the atmosphere at the correct angle so you don’t become a flaming chunk of debris, or you don’t skip off.”

“Well done. Standby and prepare for your next sortie. Caprica Actual out.” As soon as he confirmed his headset was turned off, Mark ripped it from his head and threw it on the console. “Holy shit, we almost lost one.”

Spitfire did her best to calm an agitated Mark. “I know, I know. I saw it, too. But he completed the drill and still managed to land safely.”

“What if this was an actual combat situation? Would he have landed it then?”

“You know I can’t--”

“Uh, captains?” the sensor operator called from his station. “You might want to come look at this.”

Spitfire and Mark exchanged glances before approaching the sensor console, “What do you have, cadet?”

“Cadet Steel Hoof, sir. I’ve been tracking these airships that launched from the western coast of the Griffon Kingdom for the last four hours.”

“That’s not unusual, cadet,” Spitfire said to the young stallion.

“I realize that, ma’am. This is an image from four hours ago. Three ships on the screen.” A press of a button moved the image to the next hour. “Three hours ago, six more join them. Two hours ago, nothing but the previous ships. One hour ago, still the same ships. The ones that launched later must have picked up a good easterly wind to catch up to the first launched. What’s really disturbing--” the screen changed once more, “--was when these six other ships launched thirty minutes ago from known Griffon naval ports along the coast.

“I’ve already drawn up a projection to where the first nine airships are going to land, given current aloft winds and projected trajectory.” The screen flicked black, then back to another image showing wind directions in blue lines, and the outlines of landmasses in green. “Given the current wind speed and direction, and the fact they must be very light, I’m projecting landfall in or around Manehattan at or around fourteen hundred hours local time, give or take thirty minutes.”

“How do you know they’re running light?” Mark inquired.

“Well, they’re moving close to a hundred and fifty kilometers per hour, sir. Griffon airships aren’t ever known to go that fast.”

“Well… this is damn peculiar,” Mark muttered as he studied the screen. “Captain, your thoughts.”

“I don’t know what to think about this. It’s all so… sudden, these ships launching.”

“Where did the first wave of ships launch?” Mark asked Steel Hoof.

“Nowhere of note,” he answered, “only that they were near the shore.”

“Near the water’s edge, the middle of the night, traveling fast and light,” Spitfire thought aloud. “Sounds like some Griffons are trying to get away from other Griffons.”

Mark went back to the star chart, bringing up a terrestrial scan. “And we’re above a kingdom that would like nothing more than to see one particular group eliminated.”

“And with the second wave of airships going after the first…”

“I think it’s safe to assume that the first group is Goldclaws…”

“And the second is Grayclaw loyalists, going after them.”

Mark rubbed his face. “Comms, what time is it in Canterlot?”

“Zero-three-thirty-five, sir,” the comms operator answered.

“Get me a line through to Luna. Cadet Steel Hoof, do you have a fix on Princess Cadance’s location?”

“Aye, sir,” he quickly replied. “In a northern establishment, about five miles from the western shore. It doesn’t look like she’s moved much, though.”

Mark breathed a momentary sigh of relief. “At least we know where she is.”

“Signal! Princess Luna on the comms.”

Mark picked up a headset. “Luna, I have urgent news.”

“Do you know what time it is?” she scolded.

“With good reason, too. In about six hours you’re going to have nine balloon airships landing in Manehattan, and they’re all going to be filled with Goldclaw refugees.”

“Are you certain they will be landing in Manehattan?”

Steel Hoof gave a nod. “We’re about positive ma’am. But there’s more. We’ve also detected six other airships that we believe are Grayclaw loyalists with orders to pursue.”

“I understand. Once I ‘rouse ‘Tia, I will alert the Equestrian National Guard division of Manehattan to prepare for refugees.”

Spitfire decided to chime in. “I would switch those two around, your highness. There is a very real possibility the Grayclaw pursuers will turn hostile.”

Mark continued. “A lot of Griffons are gonna be scared, some of them might be injured. You might have to call in surrounding battalions to be safe.”

“We will,” Luna acknowledged. “Keep us informed.”

“Will do. Caprica out.” Mark removed the headset, running a hand over his scalp. “There’s still something I don’t get. Why Manehattan?”

“The wind?” Spitfire suggested.

“They could have gone any night. Why tonight?”

“Sir,” a voice from the helm came over the chair, “I believe I have an answer.”

“Explain your solution, Cadet Wind Burst.”

“Unnatural protection. The Grayclaws would be stupid to attack any Goldclaw in the sprawling metropolis of Manehattan with running the very real risk of hitting a pony.”

Mark was taken aback at the simplistic genius of the solution. “That actually makes sense. And if they are stupid enough?”

“Then Princesses help them,” the helmsman said.

Mark picked up the shipwide broadcast handset. “All hands, this is the captain. Moments ago, this ship detected nine Goldclaw refugee balloon airships approaching Manehattan. They will arrive on Equestrian soil in approximately six hours. These airships are being pursued by what we assume are Grayclaw soldiers, intent on intercepting the Goldclaws. We believe that the refugees will make safe landfall before the Grayclaw ships will reach them.

“However, there is a very real possibility that these tired and frightened Griffons will still not be safe when they reach Equestria. These Grayclaw pursuers may still act on their orders despite being in sovereign foreign territory, and we must not discount that their orders are of violent nature. Why these Goldclaws have chose to run… doesn’t really matter right now. What matters now is we prepare this ship for combat.

“I know when I first recruited all of you, I promised that it would be an easy assignment. I regret to tell you that I must break that promise. I’m simply asking you to use the systems and the defenses of the Caprica a little bit sooner than anticipated. Remember your training, do not hesitate to ask, and we will all see the end of this day. That is all. Set Condition Two throughout the ship.”