Xenophobia

Chapter 3

“Beginning phase two of conception… please stand by…”

Gerald’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of the soft, clearly female voice.

An intercom squawked and the voice invaded Gerald’s ears once again: “Host bodies are in position… Project ADOPTION now in effect.”

Sleep left Gerald slowly and, as his vision became clearer, he glanced nervously about. He tried to move, but found himself restrained by leather straps cinched around his wrists, waist, and ankles. His head was trapped between two padded blinders, forcing him to face toward the center of the unlit chamber.

His eyes darted across the darkened room. To his left he could make out the dim reflection of a narrow plate glass window. There was movement behind the glass: silhouettes stood out behind a backdrop of flashing blue and red-lighted machinery.

Suddenly, the glare of fluorescent lighting seared his retinas. Blinking back tears, Jer returned his gaze to the center of the room. What he saw sent a chill racing down his spine.

Before him sat two mature xenomorph eggs. Their damp outer skins rippled slightly as their deadly cargo stirred restlessly within.

Gerald’s heart began to go into overdrive. He felt his muscles tense as adrenaline began to saturate his system. He frantically struggled against his bonds, never taking his eyes from the two eggs...
The thought crashed into the struggling man like a freight train: “Two eggs?”

Gerald shifted his field of vision higher, past the devil’s progeny under him. What he saw made his throat tighten in absolute horror. He redoubled his efforts at breaking free and the straps dug mercilessly into his soft flesh.

Across the room, restrained in a fashion similar to Gerald, hung an adolescent girl. She, fortunately, had yet to awaken from her slumber. Her dark, curly hair hung forward obscuring her face. A medical gown rustled loosely against her sun-kissed skin as she began to stir.

Though her face was hidden, the frenzied man knew exactly what she looked like behind her russet curls. Blood flowed freely from his wrists, now rubbed raw due to his useless struggles. He leaned forward as far as he could, straining against his bonds in order to try and get a better look at his captors.

His vocal cords surged, but he quelled the desire to scream before any noise could escape his lips. He couldn’t risk disturbing the eggs… couldn’t risk putting her in any more danger.

The dark-haired girl shifted and the egg below her pulsed.

The immobile man bit back another wail.

“No… no no no no… not her, not her!”

Gerald threw himself forward, trying to use his momentum to move the apparatus he was attached to.

The egg apparently meant for the girl opened. Four sections of skin flapped upward silently and a faint scuttling noise sounded from its shadowy depths.

Abruptly, the girl awoke. She lifted her head, her umber eyes immediately locking with Gerald’s. Her brow furrowed in puzzlement.

“J-Jer?”

The scuttling sounded once more. The teenager looked down and her eyes widened. She began thrashing against her restraints, breathing in short, panicky gasps.

Gerald thrust himself forward with as much force as he could muster. Pain stitched at his side as the restraints dug further into his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his face, and hung exhausted from his struggling.

“Jer!”

The fatigued man looked back at the girl across from him. She fixed her glistening eyes on him, beseechingly…

“Jer, I-”

More rattling from below prompted the girl to look down. Her pupils contracted to mere pinpricks and she let out a blood-curdling shriek. A yellowish blur sped through the air and latched onto her face, muffling her frantic cries, its long, muscular tail whipping about, slapping against her papery hospital gown.

Gerald finally let out his own anguished cry. He screamed with all his might, twisting his body against the leather shackles that held him suspended. Every ounce of sorrow, agony, and rage he could produce was let out in this one final shriek.

His voice continued to echo throughout the small room and tears flooded his vision, even as the egg below him roused and its fleshy maw slithered open.

Cpl. Hanes jerked awake, the emergency blanket he had wrapped around himself crackling with his sudden movement. Sweat intermingled with tears had settled on his face. A sole drop of perspiration rolled down the bridge of his nose and dripped down onto his upper lip.

“Salty,” the now fully alert human thought to himself, recovering quickly from his recurring nightmare.

Gerald shuddered, then disentangled from his metal comforter and carefully exited the Duckling, wearing nothing but a pair of worn-down boxer shorts. This particular pair was adorned with hearts, which, over years of being sported by the ex-marine, had faded from a deep red to a light shade of pink.

Jer quietly tiptoed over his three young wards: the fillies who tried sneaking up on him the night before. They lay bundled together near his workbench, wrapped in yet another unnecessarily noisy emergency blanket and snoring peacefully. Gerald had to admire their devotion to the dogma of circadian rhythms.

Once he had successfully exited the altered troopship, Gerald ambled over to the opposite side of the clearing, past the previously doused fire and a small pile of wolf bones.

“I should really get rid of that,” the human mused while stepping over a couple of split vertebrae. “If I remember correctly, horses are herbivorous. I don’t want my three would-be stalkers to freak out.”

Ignoring the forest scenery, Jer made a beeline for the corner of the camp, stopping in front of a blue wire that ran across the soft earth at the edge of the clearing and around the entire site. The wire met at a T-junction near the Duckling, running to a small bowl-shaped device near the fire pit.

A relieved smile spread across the human’s countenance as he began to alleviate one of his more basic needs. A light crackling sound could be heard and blue-tinged steam drifted upward from where his stream struck a previously invisible barrier. The transparent wall of energy pulsed blue as droplets struck its charged surface.

A light jolt of electricity surged through Jer’s privates, causing the man to jump slightly due to the small dose of voltage to his upper thighs. His grin widened.

“That never gets old…”

He had installed the Jiboomi Black Market defense system before hitting the hay the night before. When touched, the wall of energy emanating from the small blue wire that ran around the camp produced an extremely painful electric shock, discouraging any unruly creatures from sneaking into camp looking for an easy meal. Not that Jer considered himself an easy meal.

A familiar cackle resounded through Jer’s skull.

“Good morning to you too, fuckface,” the former soldier responded resignedly within the confines of his own head. He took stock of the trees surrounding the camp. Some, whose branches hung into the clearing, were scorched due to the transparent energy barrier, but thankfully none had been set alight. Jer would have to gather leaves from each of them and place them in the system’s genetic material receptacle. He didn’t want a forest fire on his hands.

Unlike any Company-made device, Jer’s defense system was DNA integrated, meaning that any piece of genetic material on file in the systems computer registered with the defensive outer wall, allowing the recipient to pass through unharmed. The same could not be said for the recipient’s bodily excretions, however.

Fully relieved, Jer turned back to the center of his temporary home, taking in the planet’s rather appealing landscape.

“So tranquil. So picturesque. So… flammable.”

The anarchic human pondered the final moments of his and Ray’s job on New India, remembering Ray’s muddled warnings about having little time, the pleasure behind firing a missile at the xenomorph queen, and a bright flash of light.

Ray assumed that the flash was his special concoction going off… or the Rapture, but he doubted it, because this place sure wasn’t Hell…

“I wonder if it glowed the right shade of purple. I’d hate for my final masterpiece to have been anything short of spectacular.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” the thin, reedy voice wheedled.

“Give it a rest already!”

Jer walked the camp, admiring the diverse forest and peaceful climate. He immediately loved it. It kicked the shit out of Jiboomi, that’s for sure.

“Maybe I should build a summer home here,” he snickered. “Wherever here is.”

The night before, the Scootaloo, Applebloom, and Sweetie Belle had explained (with little detail and quite a lot of bickering) as much about the planet he was currently on as they understood. Like Applebloom had said, they were in the third grade. Gerald had no idea what kind of education her species gave at that level, so he had decided to assume it was similar to that of the tertiary level of elementary schooling provided by the Company.

Gerald arranged his current knowledge of the new environment in his overcrowded head, pacing while he did so.

“I am within the borders of a country known as Equestria,” he stated to himself, shuddering somewhat at the pun. “This country is ruled by a monarch by the name of Princess Celestia, who is apparently ‘uber-cool’ as stated by the orange poultry. The town to the south is called Ponyville. More puns, GAH! Judging by the lack of a human radio signal, I can also infer that the planet this country resides on is currently outside of Company space… or reality.”

Gerald stopped his restless pacing. Outside of Company reach. Bittersweet feelings of sorrow and joy ravaged the displaced human. No Company meant no orders, missives, mandates, bureaucracies, hearings, debriefings, or quarterly reports to the board. Gerald was free… but to do what? Without Weyland-Yutani there was no purpose. No excused catharsis of rage. No planetary inspection. No cleanup.

“What are you going to do now?” the throaty voice of one of his inner demons asked, tone dripping with venomous sarcasm.

Gerald slumped down on the wing of the Ugly Duckling and stared at the cold, dead ashes of last night’s bonfire.

“I’m going to stabilize Ray,” he said quietly for his own benefit. “Then I’m going to escort the young natives back home.”

“Kill them…”

“In one piece.” Gerald shot his own mental equivalent of a glare at the voice.

Now that his day had purpose, Jer made his way back to his personal storage compartment.

“Time to get dressed.”

Scootaloo’s eyes fluttered open. Looking about, she realized she had no idea where she was. She, along with her two friends, was wrapped in a thin sheet of metallic… stuff inside of a small, dimly lit room. Above her and to the left a large metal workbench jutted from the wall. Beyond the table was a short row of compartments, each flush to the wall of the chamber and closed by a small latch.

Sunlight streamed through a large doorway ahead of her. The orange filly observed the clearing she and her friends had stumbled upon yesterday. A light breeze shifted the trees and she could hear the faint crackling of flames from a morning cook fire. Scootaloo assumed she and her friends had been placed inside the creature’s crashed airship for the night, though she didn’t remember being escorted inside.

Careful not to disturb her two sleeping companions, the young pegasus unraveled the reflective blanket and quietly made her way to the troop bay doors. She peeked around the edge of the portal and caught sight of their bipedal benefactor, wearing a coal-gray jumpsuit of sorts. He was crouched low over his unconscious friend whom he had introduced the girls to last night, an annoyed scowl flitted across his previously jovial visage. He was tilting a metal thermos over the prone human’s drawn lips, trying to entice the comatose man to drink. After half a minute of frustrated muttering and pressing on Jer’s part, his partner began to drink greedily.

A visible wave of relief washed over Jer’s face. Scootaloo smiled at the sight. He wasn’t half as ugly looking when he smiled. It put her at ease.

Jer stood and turned toward the small fire crackling nearby. Above the flames sat a small turning spit like the ones she usually saw at that fancy restaurant on the south side of Ponyville. Scootaloo’s mouth watered at the thought of the roasted vegetable shish kabobs that she often watched waiters carrying around the outer patio of the eatery. She thought the place was called "Chet Linguto’s" or something like that. She hadn’t been there since last week, and that was only because she hadn’t found food anywhere on the east side of town…

Scootaloo observed Jer crouch next to the spit, lift it off of its supports, and slide a charred hunk of something off of the metal bar. He began to tear chunks out of the cooked material with his glaringly white teeth and chewed thoughtfully. Remembering what the creature had said last night, the pegasus’s eyes widened in shock.

“You’re lucky I’ve already caught my dinner little one…”

“J-Jer?”

The munching human glanced up, and, seeing the pegasus, beamed good-naturedly at her.

“Well good morning little one,” he greeted, swallowing a mouthful of wolf meat. “Are you and your friends ready to get on home?”

The filly gulped.

He had seemed affable enough the night before, and he hadn’t eaten them yet. Steeling herself, the filly trotted down the ship’s gangway, trying to keep the memories of last night’s ghost stories, sing-alongs, and silly-voice games with the giddy creature prevalent in her mind. The thing that frightened her the most, however, was the smell of singed flesh. She… she liked it.

“Good morning Jer,” Scootaloo replied with her best phony smile. “Do you have anything ummm… vegetarian that I could eat? Me and my friends haven’t had anything to eat since lunch yesterday…” she trailed off.

Gerald looked down at his breakfast of greasy tissue.

“Of course. My bad,” he grimaced. “I think I may have something you three will find more appetizing in Ray’s compartment.”

“Who’s Ray?” Scootaloo asked, taken aback. “Are there more of you?”

“Oh, hehe.” Gerald chuckled, a mischievous smile playing across his features. “I meant Fuss-Bucket.” He stood up quickly and made his way up the ramp into the Duckling, disappearing momentarily from view.

Scootaloo hurried over to the human’s abandoned breakfast and took a tentative whiff. The heady aroma of grease and cooked fat clouded her mind momentarily.

The fact that the smell of prepared meat had such a pleasant effect on her was freaking her out a bit. The purple-maned filly shook her head violently and sneezed, taking a few stumbling steps away from Jer’s breakfast and settling down next to Fuss-Bucket. She began breathing through her mouth, hoping to rid herself of the cloying, yet pleasant, scent.

Squeals resonated from the inside the creature’s metal home and, recognizing the excited tones of her two friends, Scootaloo glanced noncommittally at the entrance.

"Sounds like Applebloom and Sweetie are up.”

As if on cue, Jer staggered out the bay doors: a bow-wearing earth pony clinging to his leg and a white unicorn riding on his shoulders. The man was grasping several rectangular packages in his hands.

As he approached, he was released by the two energetic fillies, who quickly joined Scootaloo by the still unconscious Fuss-Bucket.

“All right you three,” Jer cautioned. “I have four granola bars that I took from Fussy’s stash. Each of you gets one and then you’ll split the fourth. They’re made with oats and have a little bit of honey in them. That good? No dietary issues?”

The hungry fillies shook their heads eagerly, watching intently as Jer unwrapped the snacks. All three were excited at the prospect of trying the foreign eats. He doled out equal portions and they tentatively tried them. Enjoying the taste, they eventually began to munch on the bars in earnest.

While the girls were eating, Jer made his way back to his personal storage compartment, hoping to gather the equipment necessary for their journey through the forest while the fillies were distracted. He rummaged around the disorganized locker and pulled out his Mark III Camouflage Helmet, this one slightly more advanced than Ray’s older, Company model. Gerald would never understand Ray’s fixation with Company gear.

The ex-soldier rummaged around a bit more and pulled out a gleaming pair of brass knuckles and a steel machete he had snatched while employed on the planet Sulara. The rather large planet had been at the center of a binary star system, just at the right point between the two revolving stars that it wasn’t a molten wasteland, but instead a tropical paradise that never saw the dark of night. Well, at least it was paradise along the shorelines of its few oceans. Inside its vast jungles, it was quite the opposite. Jer, still rummaging, reminisced over Ray’s and his extended expedition in the dense jungles of Sulara, where, despite the constant sunshine above the canopy, darkness reigned. Damn that was a fun week.

He glanced over at Ray, still unconscious. He had laced the water he had given him earlier with morphine and a sleep-aid. Jer didn’t want him to wake up while he was gone and he worried about his arm. Jer was a pretty good field medic and had splinted it as best he could under the circumstances. Ray wasn’t delirious so he could rule out any kind of infection. He would be fine until Jer got back from the settlement. Besides: it wasn't the first time he'd had to babysit his partner. Ray had been hit in the head so many time, Jer was surprised the man hadn't lost his marbles. Gerald was confident that his partner would be up-and-at-'em soon enough.

Jer closed the compartment and sheathed his machete on a small buckle on the side of his jumpsuit: a Cyrulian grayle-hunting suit. A grayle is a large, rhino-like creature with very keen eyesight that lives on the plains of Cyra, one of the Company’s many farming colonies. The suit projects the environment around it onto its surface using a system of microscopic cameras and LEDs woven together in the place of nylon or fabric, rendering the wearer practically invisible. Using this ensemble, colonists have been hunting wild grayle for decades putting extra food on the table so that the Company’s meager wages could be used on other necessities. Jer had gotten the suit for a steal and had tinkered with his helmet for three days after the purchase in order to make it compatible with it. The effort had been worth it. Now, he could explore the three fillies’ hometown without becoming the target of a frightened mob of natives. Or, at least, not yet.

A thought suddenly occurred to the human. Turning to the three eating quadrupeds he asked calmly: “Won’t your families be suspicious as to where you three were all night?”

The three fillies glanced at each other and smiled.

“We’ll just tell ‘em we were sleepin’ over at Scootaloo’s” Applebloom piped up. “They never question it.” A curious expression came over her. “Come to think of it, Ah’ve never been to your house Scootaloo.”

“Yeah, me neither,” chirruped Sweetie Belle, now also rather confused.

Scootaloo smiled sheepishly.

“Um, i-it’s in C-Cloudsdale so it would be kinda difficult to take you guys there,” Scootaloo stammered. The other two fillies nodded sagely.

“That makes sense,” Sweetie Belle stated.

Gerald looked on skeptically. He logged the conversation as something he would have to pursue later.

“All right then little ones,” he sighed. “It’s time for me to get you home, but first I’m gonna need a feather from you,” he said, pointing at Scootaloo, “and strands of hair from you two.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders eyed the human suspiciously.

“Why?” they asked in unison.

“Do you remember what I told you about the defense system last night?” Jer asked, exasperated but still rather amused.

“Uuhhhhh…”

“I thought not. All you need to know is that if you want to leave the camp without a nasty shock, I’ll be needing some of your DNA for the computer.”

The fillies looked at each other and shrugged. Sweetie and Applebloom pulled out a strand of hair each and Scootaloo plucked one of her feathers. Jer took them carefully and walked over to the defense systems genetic library: the bowl-shaped thing near the center of camp. He placed the hairs and small feather in the device, pressed a few commands into the screen on its side, and… presto! The hair and feather vaporized, now registered within the system’s computer. It was safe for them all to leave now.

He turned back to his young companions.

“All right,” he said. “Lead the way.”

Near the edge of the Everfree Forest, the God of Chaos materialized from the void. His mismatched body stiffened as he stretched, joints popping and muscles straining. The Spirit slithered forward a bit and plunged into the earth through a small, grassy opening.

“Honey!” Discord snickered, “I’m home!”

Gerald hacked and slashed his way through the thick underbrush, clearing a path for him to move forward unencumbered by whipping brambles and the like. He glanced back at the three fillies behind him. After trekking for nearly a mile, they had opted to hang back, preferring that the larger creature clear the way for them. Gerald, hidden behind the visor of his helmet, smiled unconsciously. The three young ones huffed and puffed in their efforts to keep up with him. They were getting tired.

The ex-marine was amazed at the fillies' innocence and trust. He had only met him a few hours ago, a violent alien life form from unknown reaches of space, and they immediately accepted him as a benefactor, if not a friend. Children where he came from would never be that trusting.

Jer stopped and cut away the brambles in the immediate area and, turning on the external speaker in his helmet, gave the fillies a chance to rest. Apple bloom and Sweetie Belle immediately sat on their haunches, breathing in short gasps, while Scootaloo walked to the edge of the newly cut clearing and leaned against a tree for support. She began gazing out through the canopy, a wistful look in her eyes.

Jer smiled at the sight. He had always loved children, no matter what species. An idea occurred to him and his smile widened.

“Time to have a little fun.”

The human stepped backward into the thick underbrush as silently as possible, and vanished.

Scootaloo was daydreaming again. The deep blue sky above beckoned to her. She imagined drifting on the breeze, not a care in the world, high above the oppressive forest and the societal jumble of Ponyville. Away from all her problems. Is there such thing as a drifting cutie mark?

A frightened whine caught the pegasus’s attention. Once again, her daydreams were broken by one of her friends. This time it was Sweetie Belle.

“Oh no oh no oh no…” She was wandering around the clearing, eyes searching the surrounding undergrowth.

“What’s wrong Sweetie Belle?” Scootaloo asked with unveiled exasperation.

Sweetie turned to her orange friend, either not noticing her annoyance or not caring: “Where’d Jer go? He disappeared!”

Now it was Scootaloo’s turn to become worried. She jumped up and looked around frantically.

“He wouldn’t leave us… would he?” Applebloom asked, trembling.

“No,” Scootaloo replied emphatically. “He would never do that.”

“Yeah, h-he’s our friend,” Sweetie Belle added with less conviction.

Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the bushes to the fillies’ left. All three flinched, huddling together for protection. Silence reigned in the dim half-light of the forest floor.

A throaty whisper resonated in Scootaloo’s right ear.

“Boo.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders screeched, jumping nearly twice their height. They landed on the soft, loamy turf with a light thud and quickly scrambled to the opposite side of the clearing.

They were too busy trying to calm their heart palpitations to notice the laughing at first. When they did, puzzlement was their first reaction, followed by indignation, and finally outright anger.

Upon their abrupt mood change, the laughter only became more intense. Light shimmered ahead of them, and the vague shape of their giddy escort began to take form… upside down.

Jer loosened the muscles in his calves and crashed down to earth from the overhanging branch he had hung from, body still hitching with unbridled laughter. The three fillies immediately jumped him, bouncing on his chest and yelling resentfully. Jer’s laughter was infectious, however, and eventually all three of them were rolling about giggling hysterically.

The sound echoed throughout the forest. In a small cave that hugged the forest floor, an injured giant stirred, then returned to its restive slumber. An egg fell to the cave floor with a wet thump.

Ray awoke to the sound of small arms fire. He glanced at the alarm on his bedside table. The holoscreen read 3:45 am. The small icon of a crescent moon inched across its upper border.

More shots followed by a gurgling scream.

Raymond flung away the sheets of his bed and ran to the window. His neighbor’s house (the Bartletts? Gaines?) was in flames. A gas explosion ripped through its south wall, shattering the lower level picture window. People were sprinting down the street and flashes of gunfire pulsed intermittently along the suburban cul-de-sac.

A man dressed only in pajama bottoms tripped on the curb in front of Ray’s home, skidding along the pavement. He began lifting himself up, only to be set upon by a black, skeletal creature. Its vertebral tail wrapped around his upper thigh, dragging him backward over the pavement. Wails of terror emanated from the man as he tried desperately to claw away from the beast. The creature tilted its elongated head toward the very top of the man's spinal column, its second jaw bursting from its gaping mouth like the tongue of a chameleon. A veritable geyser of bloody tissue erupted from the front of the man’s face, staining the pavement below and silencing his pitiful cries for mercy.

The crash site remained silent except for the stirrings of the unconscious man and the occasional crackling zap of mosquitoes against the defensive barrier. Raymond thrashed in his sleep and a low growl resounded in his throat. The forest around the comatose man remained peaceful, but inside his head, Earth had been set aflame.

As the trees began to thin out above the three fillies and their odd companion, blessed static erupted within Gerald’s head. The man slowed his stride, a look of bewilderment crossing his face. The voices in his head were muffled behind the hissing white noise, but he could still faintly hear their demands for blood and repetitive cursing.

No longer needing him to clear the way, and not having noticed his sudden change in demeanor, Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo continued past Jer babbling about rock climbing, of all things.

After a moment of consideration, the human followed.

“Am I picking up a radio signal? But that would mean I’m within Company space… or the girls were lying about the technological prowess of their people.”

Last night the three fillies, amid shouts of “Cutie Mark Crusaders,” bickering, and general nonsense, had explained the three pony races to Jer and their subsequent abilities. They hadn’t mentioned any higher forms of technology other than comments over lighting and electronic music at some party they’d been to at “Sugarcube Corner.”

The warrior shrugged inwardly and continued walking. The trees were really beginning to thin out. He could see the outlines of brightly painted buildings in the distance. He looked up at the sky (still obscenely blue) and noticed something streaking across it, leaving a rainbow contrail.

Apparently, Scootaloo had noticed it too because she immediately let out an excited squeal and dashed toward town, her friends hot on her heels. Jer shook his head; his ever present smile not faltering one bit. As he approached town, words began to form amid the static inside his skull.

“…hell of a scorcher out today, but that isn’t stopping protestors one bit am I right?”

Another voice chimed in.

“Absolutely Robby my boy, rain or shine these men and women are kicking up a storm in the streets of upper east-side Chicago. Let’s put on some music that will really knock some pansy government socks off!”

“Damn right!”

“Government socks?” Jer thought to himself, amazed. “How old is this broadcast?” Some scream-o band began to screech about locking doors and sucking dicks. The song was familiar, but Jer couldn’t quite place it. The human resolved to solve this mystery later. He was getting close to town and his filly guides were nowhere to be seen. Sighing, Jer selected the camouflage icon on his HUD and made his way into the bustling town.

Multi-colored ponies, each with a pair of strange tattoos on their flanks, trotted left and right, carrying packages, chatting absent-mindedly, or just merely walking through town. Gerald sauntered past a large group of them, noting their size. They only came up to his waist, but there were tons of them. No point in causing any undue panic, then. The invisible human didn’t like the idea of being trampled to death by hundreds of brightly hued quadrupeds. Granted… it would be a rather interesting way to die.

The man spotted a large tree that seemed to have been converted into a home. A small balcony overlooked the road and Jer could see a large, tubby lizard sunning himself upon it. Down the road he saw plenty of plaster and wood-framed homes jumbled together. The place reminded Gerald of an early colonial township he had visited during grade school on a field trip to Earth. He was impressed. This town was the third most surreal thing he had ever laid eyes on. The memory of an old holovid depicting an ancient Olympic award ceremony flashed in his head. Bronze medal goes to… Ponyville.

Nobody noticed the light-bending silhouette that crept on the edge of the road. Finally, Gerald arrived at what looked to be an outdoor marketplace at the center of town: just in time to watch his new friends get scolded.

“Now I say, Sweetie Belle,” an elegant voice proclaimed over the din of the marketplace. “You look positively dreadful! Please tell me that’s just mud all over your coat!”

“As fer’ you Applebloom,” another voice rang out in a clipped southern drawl. "Where’ve ya’ been all night? You had Macintosh, Granny, and Ah’ worried sick!”

Jer weaved his way along the edge of the crowd of ponies and vendor’s stalls until he spotted his three young wards. They were being accosted by two older mares next to a cart full of ripe apples: one being dazzlingly white with a purple mane coiffed in a spiral fashion; the other, orange with a yellow mane done in a simple ponytail. The latter was wearing a slightly battered brown Stetson.

Jer arrived just in time to hear Applebloom reply, wearing her best poker face: “Ah’m sorry sis’. We were just havin’ a sleepover at Scootaloo’s house. Ah guess we just forgot to tell y’all.”

The older mares gave Scootaloo a stern look. She merely grinned sheepishly, suddenly finding the cobblestones at her feet extremely interesting.

The white unicorn gave a small huff, and turned back to Sweetie Belle.

“Come along darling, I will not allow you to continue walking the streets covered in such filth.” Her horn glowed a bright blue, the same aura forming around Sweetie’s tail. As she was being dragged away, the young unicorn waved sullenly to her friends.

The orange earth pony was the next to speak up.

“Ah can’t leave the cart to take you home Applebloom, so you and Scootaloo had better go wash up in the fountain. Run along now!”

The two remaining fillies gave a comic salute and ran off to the fountain at the center of the marketplace. Jer quickly followed them.

When he caught up, the two were already in the fountain, splashing about and causing a scene. He patiently waited for them to finish their antics.

While they were busy ‘washing,’ Jer listened intently to the radio broadcast his head had picked up, hoping to glean any information at all as to how old it was. Maybe then he would be able to tell how far away he was from Company territory.

A new song began playing. A man's voice radiated from the hunk of metal lodged in Jer’s brain.

“Everybody be cool this is a robbery!” Then a woman’s voice.

“If any of you fucking pricks move, I’m ‘unna execute every motherfucking last one of ya’!” A guitar began playing in the background.

Applebloom hopped out of the fountain and made her way back over to the orange mare’s apple cart. Judging from the earlier conversation, Gerald placed the cowpony (Hehe…) as her sister. He looked left, behind the cart, and noticed another pony among the bustling crowd, this one a dark brown pegasus with a black mane. He was eyeing the cart in a way Jer didn’t quite like.

The music continued. A man with a sumptuously smooth voice began to calmly dictate inside his head.

“Me an’ Fas got the gats. We out to rob the bank.

Got a jeep outside countin’ full a pack

an’ ev’rything’s cool an’ evry’thing’s smooth...”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Gerald thought to himself as he watched the brown colt paw nervously at the street, still gazing at the apple cart. “There's no fucking way.”

“I walk in to the tellah’. I gave her the lettah’

She gives me the loot, with puckered up lips

and a wink -- that I found cute. An’ I said:

‘Baby, baby, babyyy…”

Scootaloo hopped out of the fountain, bumping directly into the back of Gerald’s calf. She looked up, momentarily confused, and whispered: “Jer? Is that you?”

Just then, the brown colt made a break for the apple cart, pushing aside Applebloom’s sister and grabbing a metal cashbox with his teeth. With a satisfied grunt, he sped past the cart, knocking down the now clean Applebloom as she ran to help her startled sister. The yellow filly knocked her head against a nearby cherry stand and was suddenly still. The orange mare ran to her, yelling desperately: “STOP! THIEF!”

Jer's inner demons cried out in rage above the dim sound of the radio.

“KILL! KIIILLLL!”

“You know what? I just might.”

Twilight Sparkle turned on the corner of Mane Street into the marketplace, saddlebag full of bits, on a mission to replenish her depleted stock of quills and parchment, when she heard the commotion. She saw a brown colt with a cutie mark that looked like some sort of sack dash for the Sweet Apple Acres apple cart, knocking her friend, Applejack, to the ground. She ran forward, arriving just in time to put a magical cushion around Applebloom before she rammed headlong into Jubilee's cherry stand. The lavender unicorn’s magic saved the young filly from any spinal damage, but she was going to have one hell of a bruise.

Applejack ran over, yelling at the top of her lungs: “STOP! THIEF!” Remembering the brown pegasus, Twilight scanned the crowd, barely catching him leap into the air, wings outspread and cashbox nestled safely between his jaws.

He only made it five feet off the ground.

The colt cried out as something latched around his tail, holding him down as he flapped desperately to escape the scene of the crime.

“WHAT IN CELESTIA’S NAME!” the thief yelped as he was tugged back down to earth by an unknown force. A raspy voice, sounding like it was coming out of an intercom, resonated through the panicked square.

“Hold on there big fella,” the voice calmly intoned to the struggling robber. “Where do ya’ think you’re going?”

Twilight shuddered inwardly. There was no mistaking the hint of malevolence in that voice. It… it sounded like it was smiling. She watched as the robber was thrown to the ground in a cloud of dust. The powder shimmered across a tall figure standing above the thief, but Twilight couldn’t clearly make out what it was. It looked almost as tall as the Princess! The dust settled, and the figure disappeared from view.

A loud crack echoed through the now silent square. The robber’s front left hoof shattered in a rain of keratin fibers. The subdued pegasus roared in pain, pleading with the unknown force to let him go. Another crack. His wing bent back at an awkward angle, shedding downy feathers onto the cobbled courtyard.

Twilight stared in horror. Pegasi’s wings are almost impossible to break. How…

Applebloom stirred beneath her and Applejack let out a relieved cry. Sobbing, she hugged her sister, who, now fully conscious, gazed wide-eyed at the scene unfolding before her.

Suddenly, the thief was forced right in front of the three mares. His nose was bleeding and he was missing a few teeth.

“Apologize to the little one… NOW!” the voice growled, shouting the last word.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” the thief stuttered, spitting out a tooth. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes.

“Now are you going to give the nice horse back her money?” the voice whispered. “Or do I have to slice off your face and hang it on my wall?” Twilight shuddered again.

The floating thief placed the cashbox in Applejack’s trembling hooves, then, gazing at Twilight, he pleaded: “P-Please… d-don’t let it k-kill me…” he trailed off, tears in his eyes.

The voice sounded again, clearly amused this time.

“Oh, I won’t kill you. Don’t think I didn’t consider it, because I most certainly did. I don’t take kindly to thieves..." he trailed off. "Fortunately for you: there are children present.”

Relief washed over the stallion’s face.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t put you into a coma,” the voice added, momentarily devoid of emotion.

The stallion’s eyes widened and he screeched in terror. He was once again being dragged back to the center of the marketplace, the hairs of his tail straining behind some unseen forced. He struggled as best he could, and in response to his efforts he received a second broken wing.

Manic laughter echoed through the square. The colt’s screams became louder. Blood spurted from above his flanks. The remains of his tail were tossed carelessly into the air. The colt twitched and wailed under the successive blows coming from nowhere. Bones cracked and shattered under the massive force of the invisible laughing thing. Fur, feathers, and teeth flew. Ponies who hadn’t yet fled the marketplace gagged and shied away from the gruesome sight.

Twilight heard cheers of approval coming from the bar in the southwest corner of the square.

After nearly a minute of mindless screaming, the brown colt lost his voice. He merely wheezed in pain as he was once again lifted into the air and swung carelessly like a sack of grain. His head cracked against the asparagus stand and the pony suddenly found his voice once more. He wailed in agony, but the malicious laughter only grew more hysterical. It sounded like the transparent creature had just heard the most amazing joke rather than the colt's pained wails.

Suddenly, the thief was once again flying through the air… without the use of his wings. He sailed over Twilight’s head and crashed headlong into the decorative fountain in the center of the square. She heard the crack of his ribs shattering. The now red-stained stallion slumped unconscious half in, half out of the basin of the fountain. The laughter from nowhere tapered off, slowly becoming quieter and quieter until Twilight couldn’t hear it at all. Whatever it had been, it was now gone.

Applejack sat, stunned, still hugging her sister who was now squirming to get loose.

“Sis, Ah’m fine,” She pleaded. “Please stop crushin’ me!”

Applejack either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. She gazed off in the direction the voice had disappeared with a mixture of horror and gratitude. The voice had gone north, toward the Everfree forest. She looked up at Twilight.

“Uh… Sugarcube?”

Twilight, meanwhile, was staring over toward the fountain, at the little orange filly who sat looking at the broken thief, a knowing smirk teasing at her lips.

“She knows something,” the lavender unicorn mumbled to herself.

“What was that, Twi?” the orange mare inquired.

Ignoring her, Twilight trotted past the crowds of still stunned ponies toward Scootaloo. When she reached her, she used her magic to lift the filly up to eye level. Scootaloo whimpered.

Twilight narrowed her eyes at the pegasus, giving her her best interrogatory glare (she had read about interrogation in many mystery books).

“Tell me what you know, Scootaloo. Or so help me I’ll get Pinkie Pie to force it outta you!” she snarled.

The pegasus’s purple eyes widened in horror.

Jer had stopped laughing, but his ever-present smile still stretched jauntily behind the visor of his helmet. He had been slinking through the forest for the better part of an hour now, looking to catch himself (and Ray if he woke up soon) some lunch. Still camouflaged, Gerald quietly stepped over a bush adorned with sickly-looking red fruit. He was stalking a family of forest deer. As of yet, he was unnoticed. He glanced at his knife, still stained with the thief’s blood from when he had cut off his tail.

"Shoulda kept that,” he thought remorsefully. "Well... at least I got a chance to use my brass knuckles..."

A dark chuckling reverberated in his head, accompanied by quiet cursing.

Jer sighed. He missed the radio.

“It’s over this way!” Scootaloo called nervously, leading a rather determined-looking Twilight through the bushes toward the crash site. She held out as long as possible under Twilight’s interrogation, not wanting to sell out her new friend and his sick partner. But then Twilight had taken her to Pinkie. Oh Celestia it was awful…

After she had spilled the proverbial beans, Twilight had demanded that she take her to the crash site. Scootaloo hoped Jer was home, otherwise, she didn’t think she could hold Twilight back in her current state of fearful curiosity.

Pinkie, upon hearing the news of a new resident in the area, had simply vanished.

The two ponies made it safely to the edge of the crash site. Scootaloo walked right in, searching in vain for any sign of Jer. All she found was a still unconscious Fuss-Bucket and the bowl-shaped device near the fire pit. Wait…

“TWILIGHT! WAIT!”

A bright blue flash flared behind Scootaloo, followed closely by a sharp crack and a surprised shriek. Scootaloo ran back to the edge of the clearing and found the purple unicorn on the ground, coat singed and mane smoking. Her eyes were spinning out of control.

“What… what was that?” the unicorn whimpered, holding her head in agony.

“I-I forgot,” Scootaloo stammered. “We told Jer that the forest w-was dangerous so he put up a defensive barrier.”

“But I would have sensed any magical wall in my way,” Twilight responded, confused. She shook herself off and tried to stand. Scootaloo got her head under her midsection and helped lift her up.

“It’s not magic,” Scootaloo said, matter-of-factly.

“That’s impossible!” Twilight huffed. “It felt like I just got struck by lightning! Nothing besides advanced magic could do that!”

The orange pegasus sighed. Jumping up, she plucked a hair from Twilight’s mane with her teeth and coiled it safely within her mouth. Twilight stared at her quizzically.

The orange filly quickly stepped over the blue wire running around the edge of the clearing and headed for the bowl-shaped receptacle by the now cold ashes of the fire pit. She spat the hair into the receptacle, and, like she saw Jer do earlier that day, tapped the “read” command on the device’s screen. Twilight’s hair, along with some of Scootaloo’s spit, vaporized within the bowl.

Scootaloo turned to Twilight.

“It’s safe to come in now.”

The studious unicorn gazed skeptically at Scootaloo. Tentatively, she stepped over the wire. She didn’t explode. Twilight let out a breath of relief and immediately began exploring the camp, looking for anything new she could learn about the dangerous creature that had appeared just hours before. Perhaps, if she found out more about it, combatting it in the future would be simpler. She had completely ignored Scootaloo's assertions that he was friendly during the earlier interrogation. How could anything so violent be anything close to friendly? He had almost KILLED that colt. Granted, he was a thief who had injured two of Twilight's friends... and would probably do it all over again in a different town... but STILL! Twilight had a hard time coping with the creature's form of vigilante justice.

Scootaloo looked on in trepidation.

“Please don’t touch anything… oh please oh please…”

At that very moment, Ray turned over, his metallic blanket crackling loudly. Twilight, who had been admiring the Ugly Duckling, mumbling something quietly to herself, yelped and looked over at the unconscious man.

She began to make her way over to him.

“Hold on there Twilight!” Scootaloo practically yelled. She scrambled to put herself between the studious unicorn and Jer’s sick friend.

“Out of my way, Scootaloo!” Twilight scolded. “I’m getting to the bottom of this if it’s the last thing I do! I just saw a pony brutally beaten in the middle of Ponyville square!”

“He was a thief!” Scootaloo cried angrily. “He almost killed Applebloom!”

“That's besides the point, Scootaloo. Applebloom didn’t die, and it was only money. Applejack is a hard working businessmare. She could have made up those losses in less than an hour. That stallion could have been killed.” Twilight was trying desperately to rationalize her anger toward the supposed alien. It was getting more difficult by the minute. Sure, his actions had been cruel, but... when she saw that colt take off... she had wanted to get ahold of him and... and...

Twilight pushed past Scootaloo and levitated the prone form out from under the blanket. She gazed hungrily at the floating creature, trying to glean every bit of information she could from his floating body.

The creature was dressed in matte-black body armor that gleamed in the sunlight streaming down through the trees. Its left front foreleg was held close to its chest by a makeshift sling. Twilight spent turned her attention to its face. A twinge of sympathy constricted her heart like barbed wire.

The skin covering its cheekbones was pocked with burn scars and deep indentations. Scars laced their way across its features, the largest crossing over its right eye. Twilight stared intently at the creature, wondering what could have possibly given it those scars.

Something cold and sharp pressed against her neck. The unicorn froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She almost dropped the unconscious thing, but kept herself concentrated just enough that it only dipped in the air.

The raspy, masculine voice from the marketplace whispered in her ear:

“Put him down gently.” All the former amusement that had resounded in the voice during the scene in Ponyville Square was gone, leaving only cold anger.

Twilight slowly lowered the scarred creature, gently placing him on the ground and re-covering him with the emergency blanket.

“Like I told young Miss Scootaloo last night: you’re lucky I already caught food, or I may not have given you a chance to explain yourself,” the voice lilted softly in her ear. “Now, please. Tell me why you forced my young friend to let you into my camp? And what gave you the right to fondle my comrade so carelessly with that ungodly purple magic of yours?”

“I… Y-You…” the unicorn spluttered. The knife pressed deeper into her neck.

“Take a minute to calm down,” the voice soothed. Twilight glanced at Scootaloo. The orange filly was giving her a disappointed look. Now that Twilight thought about it, she had been a bit hasty. Much, much too hasty...

“I… I was just curious. And scared. I saw what you did to that thief in the marketplace and could tell that Scootaloo knew what was going on. I needed to know…”

“Let’s get something straight sister,” her captor said, his voice a low growl. “Nobody touches my friends without their permission.”

“That… sounds reasonable,” the unicorn stammered, realizing that it really was very reasonable. Very reasonable indeed. “I’m s-s-sorry…”

The electrical barrier surrounding the camp sparked as a large beetle met a grim end behind the Ugly Duckling. The three beings remained still as Twilight's apology hung in the midday air. Suddenly, the creature broke the silence:

“Ok then!” he chuckled, removing the knife from above Twilight’s collarbone and sheathing it in his boot.

Scootaloo gaped at the man, looking at him like he’d just sprouted wings from his head, then, looking at Twilight, she started to giggle and immediately tried to stifle it with her hoof. Twilight was just as surprised. She turned to look at her captor, seeing a biped much like the one who she had unthinkingly accosted earlier, wearing a gray, almost skintight jumpsuit and helmet, which the creature promptly removed with a slight hiss of escaping air. Twilight gazed at the creature’s face, now uncovered, taking in every detail. This was, after all, her first encounter with a new species that was neither invisible, nor unconscious.

The biped had an angular face with very pronounced cheekbones and laugh lines. It’s mane was almost non-existent, only covering the very top of its head in a rather close-cropped fashion. It wore a manic grin and its slate-gray eyes shone anarchically, reminding her of the mismatched red eyes of Discord.

“You… You forgive me?” Twilight asked. “Just like that?”

“I’m a good listener,” the human alleged. “Last night, I met three young fillies with a penchant for storytelling.” He turned to Scootaloo, who was now rolling on the ground, trying to suppress her laughter at Twilight’s incredulity. “They gave me an overview of the town heroes, Ms. Sparkle. I know you meant no real harm. You saw me as a potential threat, which, in my case, is understandable.” He chuckled at a joke only he could hear. “However, that gives you no right to barge into my camp and start snooping around.”

The unicorn lowered her head dejectedly. He did have a point. It was weak, but a point nonetheless.

“I’m sorry…” she sighed.

The human shook his head, smirking.

“Apology accepted. Now go explore, but don’t touch anything… or I’ll cut off your tail.”

Twilight stared at the creature, surprised and frightened at the emotionless way he had threatened her with dismemberment.

Scootaloo couldn’t hold it anymore. She burst out laughing, and nearly rolled into the fire pit. Jer stuck out his boot and stopped her progress, and then he burst out laughing as well.

“The tail thing was a joke, right?” Twilight asked nervously, glancing back at her flank to check on the body part in question.

“Yes, yes don’t sweat it kid. Just don’t touch anything,” the creature reassured, still giggling along with the orange pegasus.

Amazed and confused by the creature’s quick forgiveness of her actions, the unicorn looked hesitantly around. She had given up rationality at this point, and had to physically force herself not to smile. The alien's laughter was infectious! Twilight was still suspicious of it, and continued to tell herself that its actions in Ponyville Square had been wrong, but she had decided it wasn't a threat to her at present moment. She admired its devotion to its friend, and it seemed to get along really well with Scootaloo...

It wasn’t until the creature had begun gathering branches for a fire that she spoke up.

“Ummm… I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh! My bad,” the jovial biped said, patting Scootaloo on the head while she tried to build a teepee out of the branches he gathered. “I’m Gerald, but my friends call me Jer. That ugly mess over there is named Fuss-Bucket,” he continued, gesturing toward his comatose companion.

Still completely taken aback by his forgiveness and mood change, Twilight decided to push further.

“If you wouldn’t mind… Gerald… I have a few questions for you.”

“Ugh I sound like Fluttershy…”

“Fuck, I hate questions,” Gerald responded noncommittally. He whipped out his laser torch and lit the lopsided teepee with a loud sizzling flash. Twilight flinched. “You get three,” he relented after looking at her for a moment.

Hesitantly, she began:

“What are you?”

“Human.”

“Where are you from?”

Jer merely pointed up into the midday sky.

“How did you get here?”

“That,” Jer muttered, “is yet to have been made clear.”