Xenophobia

Chapter 4

Applejack pushed through a dying blackberry bush, following her sister through the foreboding landscape of the Everfree forest. She’d always hated the woodlands north that bordered Sweet Apple Acres: it was nothing like the rolling hills and beautiful orchards of her home and its difference made her uneasy. She wasn’t afraid of the forest! Oh, no. Never. But… she did prefer to keep her distance: especially during the spring. Manticore rutting season and all…

Sure, she had heard all of Granny Smith’s stories about how the forest was a living part of Equestria and should be respected as such: not avoided or feared… but she never really trusted the place. Granny had always had a soft spot for the forest. Applejack assumed that was because she had first discovered her famous "zap apples" within the forest as a filly. Or maybe she was just a bit of an old romantic.

Applejack smiled at the thought of Granny pining over the natural beauty of Everfree, maybe writing some poems. Her grin quickly soured into a scowl as she tried to free herself from some wild brambles that had become entangled in her long blonde mane.

Applebloom jittered impatiently a few yards ahead.

“C’mon Applejack!” she whined, hopping around the base of an old oak tree.

“Calm down Sugarcube,” the orange mare growled, frustration clear in her usually calm, collected tone. “May Ah remind you that yer’ still in trouble fer lyin’ tah me and Rarity earlier.” Applebloom drooped a bit, but her impatient enthusiasm won out and she began fidgeting again.

After Twilight had run off after the incident in Ponyville Square and the Royal Guards had carried the crook away on a stretcher, some staying behind to question witnesses as to what had happened, Applejack had rushed her sister to the hospital. Both Nurse Redheart and that new doctor who came in from Canterlot last month took a look at the still dazed yellow filly. After a thorough examination, both physicians reassured Applejack that her little sister would make a full recovery. Still unconvinced, the farm pony had taken Applebloom home and forced her to lie down and rest her head despite the early hour. Unfortunately, Applebloom would have none of it.

The little filly babbled excitedly about what had happened in the market. She was absolutely livid at the would-be thief who had knocked her down and tried to steal Applejack’s hard-earned bits. She kept mentioning a name in her endless monologue of indignant thief-bashing. Applejack disregarded her ramblings, attempting to tuck the excitable filly into bed, until about the fifth time she mentioned the errant name.

“…knew it was Jer the second Ah heard his voice! He was all like ‘apologize to the little one…’” Applebloom deepened her voice to match that of the invisible vigilante from that morning’s skirmish in the square. The older mare started and began paying closer attention to her younger sibling’s rant.

“…he was flyin’ with broken wings! Jer really showed that meanie what for! Ah guess he’s pretty cool for not havin’ a cutie mark… just like us! GASP! I’m gonna get the girls to let him join the Crusaders! He’ll be so-”

“Now hold on there, Pardner,” Applejack interrupted. “Who exactly is this ‘Jer’ pony?”

“He ain’t a… Aw shoot…” Applebloom shook herself from her earlier enthusiastic sermon against the crook: apparently realizing that her new friend would probably prefer to stay anonymous, especially after that morning’s episode.

Visibly cursing herself for her loose lips, Applebloom attempted to save face by feigning exhaustion. She stretched her back, little spine clicking loudly into place, and gave Applejack her best yawn.

“Y’know Sis? Ah really am tired. Maybe Ah should just go to sleep.”

“Applebloom,” the older mare seethed. “You tell me what’s goin’ on right now or so help me…” Applejack trailed off menacingly, allowing her younger sister to imagine what unpleasant fate awaited her if she made the wrong decision in the next few moments.

Applejack glared at the filly, giving her best imitation of her friend Fluttershy’s stare. Applebloom blanched and appeared to be nervously weighing her options. After nearly a minute of cold silence and fidgeting, the orange farm pony finally won out and Applebloom began confessing everything… absolutely everything.

“Wow… there really is somethin’ to be said about that stare thing,” Applejack thought, amazed at the endlessly
flowing admissions of fault coming from her little sister.

The filly spilled everything: the fiery metal object that fell through the sky, the Crusader’s trek through the forest, their encounter with the apparently friendly creature named Jer and his injured companion, all up until their return to Ponyville with the creature, whom they’d left unattended in order to chase Rainbow Dash. She also admitted to “borrowing” Applejack’s Stetson while she took her midday nap last Tuesday, as well as playing “Doctor” with Snips and Sweetie Belle behind the barn a month ago.

Applejack filed that last one away for later.

The yellow filly looked up at her sister expectantly, frightened of what her punishment might be, but remaining curious enough about her sister’s expected reaction to make eye contact. Applejack sat, stunned for a moment by the sheer magnitude of her sister’s confessions. A space pony… prevented a robbery of Apple family property.

Needless to say, the farm mare was skeptical.

Being the Element of Honesty, Applejack expected the truth from her friends and family, but knew she wouldn’t always get it. She stared at her sister, trying to gauge her truthfulness. The farm mare couldn’t detect even a trace of untrustworthiness in the yellow filly’s eyes. Even so… a space pony?

Applebloom watched her older sister worriedly. She had sat there, blankly staring at her, for almost a minute.

“Uuh… Sis? You okay?”

“Show me,” the orange mare said suddenly.

“Wh-What?” Applebloom stuttered.

“Take me to the clearing. Ah have to see this fer mahself.”

And now here she was. A mile into the Everfree forest with her energetic little sister, trying to disentangle herself from this darned bramble patch. Applejack sighed resignedly. She took out the small rubber band she used to hold her ponytail together and pulled herself out of the bush. She shook her mane, letting it fall around her shoulders, and trudged on after Applebloom.

After about an hour of walking, the two ponies found themselves at the edge of a small, unnatural clearing. Applejack let her eyes roam across the clearing, taking in the impossible sight. A gigantic metal house stuck out of the earth and a roaring fire contained within a bed of stones blazed a few yards away from it. A large mound of flesh was slowly cooking over the fire. The farm pony’s stomach did a somersault. Celestia, the smell! Applejack had never experienced such a disturbing scent. Had Applebloom mentioned her new friend’s… diet? She didn’t remember. The hide of whatever poor creature was currently roasting in the center of the clearing lay stretched out over a large boulder near the opposite edge of the camp, apparently drying in the afternoon sun.

“Well… Applebloom definitely wasn’t lyin’ about the new residents… but from space? Ah dunno.”

A familiar voice rose above the crackle of the flames: “HALT! Who goes there?” An orange pegasus filly trotted out of the metal structure, a mixture of defiance and apprehension on her young face.

“Scootaloo?” Applebloom asked, confused.

“Applebloom? You’re okay!” the purple-haired filly cried. She cantered over to the two ponies excitedly, but noticing her friend wasn’t alone, stopped. “Applejack? What are you doing here?”

“Ah could ask the same of you, missy,” the farmer retorted, glancing nervously behind Scootaloo at the shadowy entrance of the metal structure. Her eyes were drawn toward a strange painting on its side: it looked like a duck, except taller, and posed in a rather suggestive manner…

Noticing the older mare’s nervous gaze, Scootaloo smirked. “Don’t worry Applejack, Jer’s really nice! He’s not here right now, though. He had to go bury… ummm… the parts he couldn’t… uh…”

Catching the orange filly’s meaning, Applejack began to feel a little sicker.

Applebloom, not having really noticed or understood what was going on, changed the subject: “How’d ya get out here Scoots?”

“Oh!” Scootaloo forgot about finishing her explanation of Jer’s current business. “After Jer totally beat up that big, mean robber, Twilight caught me and interrogated me. I didn’t give in… until she brought me to Pinkie…” Scootaloo shuddered. “She made me take her out here so she could try and find out about Jer. She was convinced he was some sorta bad colt or something.”

Remembering the scene in Ponyville Square, Applejack understood her reaction. It had been horrifying. She’d seen blood before… but that was always from some accident. The orange mare had never seen anyone beaten so badly before… all because they had stolen from her. She turned her attention back to Scootaloo.

“… and then Twilight was holding up Fuss-Bucket with her magic: swinging him around like a rag doll so she could get a good look at him-”

“Wait,” Applejack interrupted. “Who?”

“Twilight, silly! She-”

“No! Who was she holding up?”

“Oh! She was holding up Fuss-Bucket: Jer’s friend. He’s kinda sick right now…” Scootaloo turned and pointed past the fire pit. Next to an odd, bowl-shaped object lay a bundle of reflective… stuff.

Remembering Applebloom’s description of the unconscious creature, Applejack finally decided to take charge.

“Move aside, Sugarcube,” she commanded as gently as she could. “Ah need to talk to Twilight.”

“She’s not here,” Scootaloo chirped. “She left almost an hour ago: probably to go warn you guys about Jer. Maybe write to the Princess. I dunno.” The young pegasus shrugged indifferently, not caring about Twilight’s actions in the slightest.

“Warn them?” Applebloom interjected quizzically. “Why would she warn anypony about him? Jer’s so nice…” she trailed off.

“I know, right?” Scootaloo answered, clearly nonplussed. “She’s still convinced he’s a ruthless space pirate or something.”

“Jer said that he an’ Fussy are just exterminators... they just deal with bugs an’ stuff right? Why would Twilight think he’s so dangerous?” Applebloom mused a little indignantly.

Apparently Applejack was the only pony out of the three who remembered exactly what happened in Ponyville earlier. She definitely knew why Twilight still made such assumptions about the pair of alien’s threat to the town. Until she met this ‘Jer’ character, she wouldn’t know for sure who to trust: her sister, or one of her best friends.

“Ah don’t care if Twilight’s here or not,” Applejack asserted. “Ah’m comin’ in an’ takin’ a look for mahself an’ that’s final!”

Scootaloo backed up, clearly intimidated by the older Apple’s sudden outburst. “O-Okay Applejack,” she stuttered. “Just don’t move for a second, kay? If you come too much closer you’ll get hurt.”

“Whaddaya mean?” the orange farmer asked, her eyes narrowing. She took another step forward, her hoof landing centimeters from the blue wire that surrounded camp.

“HOLD IT!” Scootaloo yelled.

Remembering the invisible blue barrier, Applebloom quickly tried to hold back her frustrated sister. “Wait! Stop Sis! Jer put up an invisible wall thingy to keep monsters out while we slept! It’s dangerous if he doesn’t put some a yer hair in the uh…”

“Database,” Scootaloo finished.

“Yeah! That’s it!” Applebloom looked around for a moment, and then brightened as she found what she was looking for. She grabbed a hapless stick that had been merely minding its business, being inanimate, a few feet away. Taking one end in her mouth, she tossed the stick over the wire. There was a bright blue flash and a loud zapping sound.

Applejack stumbled backwards and landed on her flank with a soft thump. She had squinted her eyes shut at the flash. She now opened them fully, only to see the stick, blackened and burning on one end, lying a few feet away to her left.

“See?” Scootaloo said, a bit condescendingly. Blue waves of energy rippled across the now visible barrier, dissipating as they traveled outward. The ripples distorted Applejack’s vision of the little orange filly on the other side for a moment, then disappeared, leaving nothing but undisturbed air and a faint whiff of ozone between them.

Applejack got over her surprise at the invisible wall of energy, diverting her feelings of apprehension to those of annoyance. Seeing her sister’s frustrated expression, Applebloom hopped up and yanked out a strand of her hair. Like Scootaloo had done earlier, she stuffed the hair into her mouth and daintily hopped over the wire. Applejack almost had a heart attack. She scrambled to stop her sister, but seeing that she had made it through and hadn’t exploded, stopped. The older mare watched intently as Applebloom and her pegasus friend trotted over to the bundle of reflective blankets and bowl-thing by the fire pit. The yellow filly spat into the bowl and Scootaloo pushed a few buttons on a lighted screen attached to its side.

“It’s safe now,” Scootaloo announced cheerily. She walked over to the bundle of blankets and sat down, leaning back on the sleeping alien. “You coming in or not?”

Applejack glared at the relaxed pegasus. She closed her eyes and, hesitating only for a moment, stepped over the wire. When she didn’t explode she let out a sigh of relief. The farm mare stepped the rest of the way into camp, noticing her fur stand on end for a second. She shook her mane, hoping to get a few errant, statically charged hairs out of her face. She succeeded.

She quickly made her way over to the bundled-up alien, giving the fire pit and its respective carcass a wide berth. Scootaloo moved out of her path and watched nervously a few feet away with Applebloom, who, to her credit, had become much more solemn about the whole ordeal.

Applejack grabbed onto a fold in the blanket and tore it away like a band-aid in a flurry of crackling fabric. She looked down on the alien, blanket still clenched in her teeth, and immediately paled.

“Celestia, the SCARS…”

The creature’s face was covered in long snatches of scar tissue. Pockmarks that looked like burns from lit cigars adorned its sweaty face, the largest on his left cheekbone, and another above its mouth where its left laugh-line should’ve been. A long, white scar ran down the right side of its face, passing through its right eye and marring its visage further. Its right eyebrow was broken by the scar. No hair grew on the clean, white tissue.

“How on Terra did he get these?”

An angry roar tore through her thoughts. Birds exploded out of the canopy a few hundred yards to the west of the clearing, fleeing from the source of the commotion. Applejack spun around. She had heard an animal like that only once before.

“I-Is that a manticore?” Applebloom asked, trembling next to her orange friend.

“Don’t worry,” Scootaloo tried to reassure her. “It can’t get in here!”

“B-But what about Jer?” Several muffled cracks pounded through the trees followed by a feline yowl of pain.

“He’s fine,” a deep, masculine voice answered.

Iron-gray hallways. Cold glares and various hypodermic needles. A loud beep echoed in Ray’s ears. He was sixteen again, in line behind several other scared, naked individuals. The line inched slowly forward, and the young man behind him sniffed loudly. Ahead was a small white archway. Two soldiers stood on each side of the arch, pulse rifles held at attention. They gave away no emotion.

A young girl passed under the arch. Another beep. A bright green sphere flashed from a holoprojector above the arch. The line moved forward another foot. So it went. Several others passed through the detection unit into the room beyond and, hopefully, safety. Desperation hung heavily in the air, clinging to Ray’s scrawny, unclothed skin. He shivered.

An unpleasant siren grated against the semi-silence and a red octagon flashed above the archway. The young man ahead of Ray had been stopped. The two Earth guardsmen roughly grabbed him under his arms. He fought back, pleading with them: begging to be let into the room beyond.

“Please! Oh God, please! You have to let me through! My daughter’s in there! CLARISSA!”

The man broke away from one of the soldiers, only to receive a prod with a Company-issued Electrical Discouragment Device. His body danced across the steel floor and a dark puddle spread across the hallway where he lay. He had emptied his bladder. The soldiers recommenced to drag the man through an adjacent hallway. He struggled only weakly, sobbing.

“You can’t just leave me down there! Not with those things! Please, have mercy…” the man trailed off and began weeping in earnest. His choked sobs grew faint as he was dragged slowly away. Somewhere, a door whisked shut.

No one acknowledged the altercation. Bodies shuffled forward. Someone coughed raggedly from somewhere in line behind Raymond. Another green flash. *Beeeep*

“They won’t hurt him you know.”

Ray turned to the old man behind him. He looked to be about seventy. His back was curved outward and his legs were bony and thin, like a chicken’s. When he spoke, he did so with an air of insane wisdom beyond any man Raymond had ever met so far.

“He won’t be harmed down there,” the man croaked, glancing at his feet: indicating the chaos below the floating refugee center. “He’s part of the family.” The man grinned cynically and coughed. A thin trail of blood ran from his left nostril.

Ray turned back toward the archway and stepped through. Beep. Flash. Move along.

He entered a brightly lit room packed with several other refugees. Everyone was huddled together in separate groups. Desperate humanity: clinging to each other for comfort. Ray noticed a young girl sitting alone a few feet away. She was gazing at the archway hopefully. Waiting. When she saw Ray, her eyes began to water. She swayed in her seat, holding back tears.

Ray walked up to the girl. He sat next to her and patted her on the shoulder, not knowing how to console her in any way. The girl broke down crying. Her body wracked with sobs: shaking so hard she almost fell from the aluminum bench.

Ray looked over toward the arch. The siren had sounded again, signaling the doom of another. He watched as the same two guardsmen seized the wizened old man who had been behind him in line. As he was dragged away, he looked straight at Ray, meeting his eyes. An insane smile spread across his grizzled face.

“All part of the family.”

Colors bled from the walls. The little things: sneezes, coughs, quiet weeping faded away to silence. Ray was alone. The refugees. The sobbing daughter. The soldiers. Gone. A vast black expanse of nothing stretched onward forever.

Ray sat for hours, though he could no longer see the bench he had chosen, when sound returned to him. He heard birds, the crackling of a fire, and finally, the angry howl of some wild beast. Frightened voices, not far away, cried out at the sudden roar. A female voice, clearly that of a child, drifted to him through the suffocating darkness.

“I-Is that a manticore?”

“Don’t worry. It can’t get in here!” another voice answered, still that of a young girl. Ray could distinguish a tone of forced confidence in her. She wasn’t so sure, then.

“B-But what about Jer?” Ray started at the mention of his friend’s name. Jer was there? Alive? Am I alive? Ray felt the sudden urge to reassure the frightened children, as he was unable to for the crying girl so many years ago. It was a nonsensical desire, but he held onto it nonetheless.

Several cracks rang out across the sea of darkness followed by another roar, and suddenly Ray was on his back. His left arm screamed in pain and his muscles felt as stiff as plexisteel piping.

“Those were gunshots.” Instinctively, Ray understood. Gerald was off battling some animal. Again.

Ray struggled hard against himself, and, succeeding, made himself heard over the commotion.

“He’s fine.”

Apart from the death cries of the hapless animal in the distance, Ray’s world was quiet. He felt a presence above him. Warm breath blew across his face.

“H-Hello? Are ya’ awake?” a soft voice asked. This one sounded older than the other two but was still clearly female. Ray noticed an edge of nervousness… along with an Ozark-sounding accent. The immobile man was confused. If he was alive, then why was everything still pitch-black?

“Open your eyes, Dip-shit.”

Ray struggled with his subconscious, pushing against the darkness around him with all his might. His eyes snapped open, revealing an oversized pair of striking green irises gazing down at him.

“He’s fine.”

When Applejack had heard the voice she immediately spun back to the scarred alien lying behind her. It was in the same position as when she’d first averted her attention and its eyes were still shut.

She leaned towards its scarred face, scanning its surface for any sign of consciousness. More yowls of pain drifted into the clearing.

“H-Hello?” She asked nervously. “Are ya’ awake?”

Nothing happened for a moment, and then, suddenly, its eyes snapped open. Applejack gasped and stumbled backward. The being stared at her with one piercing blue eye: its left. Its other eye was a milky white color, its surface plagued with cataracts that hid most of the creature’s pupil and iris. The creature simply stared at her from its position on the ground, betraying no emotion, nor any other signs of life.

There was a rustling sound on the west side of the camp, followed by an exhausted grunt. Applejack broke her gaze with the piercing blue… eye, and turned her attention to the new source of commotion.

“JER!” Applebloom and Scootaloo squealed. They jumped into the air and dashed toward the tired biped. Scootaloo’s wings flapped excitedly as she leapt at the creature’s waist. It stooped down and caught her while Applebloom proceeded to attach herself to its calf. The creature laughed, tossing the orange pegasus into the air and catching her. It reminded Applejack of something her father had done to her when she was small... a long time ago.

Noticing the orange mare, the alien froze, a frown creasing its previously happy face. He put Scootaloo down and glared at her.

“Y’know, the point of me putting up the defense system in the first place is for me to be able to decide who gets into my camp!” he chastised.

Scootaloo winced and put on her best puppy-dog face.

“I’m sorry Jer, but Applejack’s a nice mare. She wouldn’t doing anything bad.”

“Yeah, well the other "nice mare" that I’d heard about from you two wasn’t exactly the most courteous of guests.” He cast one more disappointed look at the pegasus before turning his gaze toward Applejack. “I assume this one brought you here,” he said, indicating the yellow filly still attached to his leg. “Right?”

Applejack nodded. She was unsure of how she was supposed to respond. She had been trespassing, just like Scootaloo said Twilight had done, and she was afraid of a negative response from the creature. Her memory of the market that morning chose to resurface at that exact moment.

“Don’t worry. I won’t kill you…”

Applejack paled slightly, but calmed when the creature stooped down and detached her sister from his calf. He smiled warmly at her.

“It’s good to see that you’re all right,” he said kindly, patting the clingy filly on the head. She immediately burst into an exuberant rant about how amazing he was for saving her sister’s hard-earned bits and beating the "meanie-pants" colt who had knocked her down.

Applejack couldn’t help but smile at his sister’s inane display of affection… as well as the creature’s reaction to it. The biped merely kneeled next to her, grinning and nodding sagely when she said anything vaguely interrogatory.

“… and that’s why me an’ the girls were gonna let you join our club! Ah’ll even get Rarity to make you a cape an’…”

Scootaloo was sitting a few feet from Applebloom, looking rather dejected at Jer’s previous outburst over her letting Applejack into the camp. The farm mare made a move to go comfort her, but the kneeling creature beat her to it. He reached out and ruffled Scootaloo's purple mane, then gently lifted her up onto his shoulders so that her chin could rest comfortably atop his head.

Jer looked up at the little pegasus, and asked, half jokingly: “Is this true? Are you two really willing to let me into your awesome club?”

Scootaloo, glum mood forgotten, smiled mischievously at her living perch.

“I dunno… we still have to ask Sweetie Belle. But I think you might be cool enough,” she answered snidely.

“You’ve always been good with kids ya’ big softie.”

Jer jumped at the sound of the new voice, nearly dropping Scootaloo in the process. He steadied himself and looked past Applejack.

The farm mare spun around to the source of the voice: the momentarily forgotten Fuss-Bucket. He had propped himself up with his left elbow, massaging his forehead and eyes while wearing a pained grimace.

Jer quickly closed the gap between Ray and himself. He knelt next to his comrade, Scootaloo still on his shoulders, and gave his confused partner a quick noogie.

“I was wondering when you’d finally wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” He really had been quite worried about his more taciturn friend. He had been unconscious in his care many a time, but never for that long. He chose not to voice his concerns, however, hiding behind a thin façade of wry humor.

“What the fuck did you give me, Jer?” Raymond responded groggily. He seemed un-amused at Jer’s petty joking.

“Whatever do you mean?” the jovial soldier inquired.

“I’m seeing little talking horses. I repeat: what did you give me?”

“Just morphine, which has probably worn off by now, right?”

Raymond nodded weakly. Gerald sighed and stood up, carefully lifting his little orange passenger off of his shoulders and onto the ground next to his pained friend. The pegasus shied away from Ray at first, but, noticing his vulnerable stance, came around quickly and struck up a conversation with the now fully lucid human.

Jer jogged up the ramp into the Duckling; sliding a bit on it’s uneven surface and almost banging his head on the way in.

“I really need to get the landing gear on this thing fixed.”

The Company issued four syringes of morphine per requisition order. Because of this, the two exterminators had been saving extras from every job since the re-conquest of Earth. They had only been forced to delve into their cache of painkillers on four occasions so they had accrued quite a lovely surplus of the clear liquid. Jer hoped there wouldn’t be reason to use much more of it.

The hinges on the first aid storage compartment squeaked loudly when he pried the it open. Jer cringed at the sound. It reminded him of young nails dragging down an old-style green chalkboard, trailing long jagged marks all the way down. Unwanted memories of his time in “Primary Education” flooded his mind.

“Shoulda bought some oil on last leave,” the human thought sadly. “I’m gonna have to get into that town again. Maybe buy some salt for preserving extra meat. Shit, all I have are Company shares! What the fuck am I gonna buy here with those!”

“Kill the shopkeeper. Take the shit.”

Jer shook his head violently. He didn’t want to think about it anymore and his inner demons were getting a little too vocal. He needed to keep himself occupied with something. Anything.

He made his way back out of the ship to find both Scootaloo and Applebloom hopping on top of Raymond and babbling excitedly about a tree house, scissors, and something called “The Wonderbolts.” Much to Jer’s chagrin, his usually infallible partner seemed pole-axed by the two fillies. He just stared at the two, his expression that of a man who had just been shot and was very confused about it.

Jer decided to let them finish their little talk. He slipped the syringe of liquid stupor into his pocket and turned his attention to the orange earth pony wearing a large brown Stetson who had settled a few yards away from the commotion by the fire pit. She wore an expression akin to that of a long time sufferer of post-traumatic stress syndrome. Jer recognized the shell-shocked equine as none other than the businessmare who had been robbed that morning during his brief jaunt through Ponyville.

“Businessmare… I’m really getting the hang of these words! I’ll be talking like a yokel in no time.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Jer smiled inwardly despite the repeated cursing that had bloomed in his skull. He walked casually over to the dazed cowpony. She noticed him and her eyes narrowed for a moment. The human put on his most diplomatically reassuring smile and made his best attempt at an introduction:

“Sorry ‘bout my outburst earlier. I’m just not used to peo—I mean ponies waltzing into our camp like that. That purple unicorn made herself a little too at home here for my taste. Anyway, my name’s Jer. You’re Applejack, right?”

“May Ah ask how you knew that?” the orange mare asked suspiciously.

“I’m a good listener.” Jer was surprised. He’d gotten to use that line twice today. “Your sister and her friends had quite a lot to say about… everything really.” He glanced over at the two fillies, who were continuing to assault Ray with their constant babble and the occasional shout of their club name. Ray looked at him beseechingly. Jer ignored him.

“Are you two really from… well…”

“Space?” Jer finished. Applejack nodded in affirmation.

“I guess you could say that. We hail from a conglomeration of planets held together by the tenets of an economic dictatorship. How we came to be on your nice little planet is a complete mystery to me, however.”

The mare looked at him in disbelief. “Ya seriously have no idea how ya got here?”

“Well we weren’t exactly in the position to travel here when I blacked out.” The human retorted, doing his best to keep himself as cheery as possible. Children he could handle. Older beings grated on his nerves a bit. “But enough about me. How are you? I left a bit abruptly this morning and didn’t really get a chance to see if everypony was all right. It’s the strangest thing… angry mobs of confused quadrupeds aren’t exactly appealing to me. If Ms. Sparkle’s reaction is any indicator, I think I made the right decision to get out.”

Apparently realizing that the he was talking about the “public beating” incident, Applejack’s expression of suspicion and disbelief softened and she began to look rather nervous.

“Ah’m fine…” she trailed off, pawing anxiously at the forest turf. When she spoke up again, what she said left Jer mildly stunned. “Th-Thank you fer doin’ what ya did. Twilight didn’t know it, but most a’ the mortgage payment fer the farm was in that box. Ah was plannin’ on getting’ it to the bank early after Ah’d sold my morning wares. If’n that colt had gotten away Ah don’t know what the family woulda done.”

“No sweat, ma’am,” Jer replied, chuckling uneasily. He hadn’t been expecting any gratitude at all, really. He was never good at dealing with civilians and avoided them whenever he could help it. He didn’t get many thank you’s for his work and he had no standard mailing address so he rarely got any cards relaying gratitude for his actions. “I’m glad I could help. When I saw little Applebloom bash against that vendor's stall I kinda lost it.” Jer’s eyes glazed over a bit.

“And didn’t it feel good? Wasn’t it grand?”

“Yes, but I’m not going to indulge in this conversation right now.”

“You still haven’t cleaned your knife big boy… how about some more fun?”

“Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!”

His eyes refocused and noticed that Applejack had backed away a bit. She gave him a worried look. Jer smiled nervously at her.

“Sorry about that.”

Applejack relaxed slightly. She appraised him for a moment before finally speaking again.

“Ah sincerely thank ya; from the bottom of mah heart. Ah’m sorry for bargin’ in on yer camp like that… Ah just needed to know what was goin’ on…”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re a lot less nosy than that Ms. Sparkle character.”

“Watch it pardner: Twilight’s mah friend. Mah nosy, fretful, book-worm of a friend.”

“I can respect that,” Jer placated despite her obvious sarcasm. “Now lets go save Fuss-Bucket before he completely loses his mind.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Dear Lord… make it stop.”

The noontide sun shone through the dappled leaves near the edge of the Everfree forest, casting undulating shadows onto the forest floor. The Immortal Spirit of Chaos basked in the ultra violet light, a tanning mirror against his chest. A contented sigh escaped his sun-dried lips and he fluttered his mismatched wings, thumping the brown trunk of his leafy perch. He had been sitting there in an old oak tree relaxing for the better part of the day. If there was anything he had learned from his last taste of freedom, it was patience.

His beautifully insectile savior, despite her unfortunate lack of a proper birthing capsule... and fertilization for that matter, had produced a sizeable clutch of leathery pustules that Discord had found absolutely enthralling. They were like huge, grimy pimples: just waiting to discharge their deadly cargo. Discord was amazed by his Queen’s versatility. Truly, she was a magnificent creature. Oh, the chaos they would spread together! But not yet. The spirit shivered in anticipation.
Soon, with the help of his newfound muse, he would be able to proliferate his most delicious bedlam yet.

Discord's imagination ran wild. Canterlot was in flames, the Princesses lay groveling at his feet, and the Elements of Harmony hung restrained above six leathery eggs. A new world would be born from the ashes. A better world… for his Queen. Discord’s wings stiffened in anticipation.

A manticore howled in the distance. The reclining draconequus drank in its squalls of misery. He smiled wolfishly and tugged at his goatee. His fantasy would be made real in time… but first he needed to compose a short letter to an old friend.
The spirit snapped his fingers, producing a quill and roll of parchment.

“My Dearest Chrissy,
I have a proposition for you…”