Analog Souls: Echos of the Past
It was a typical day in the Canterlopolis Spire district. Robotic ponies clank about doing their business along one of the many grand viewpoints scattered about the Spire.
Eyes and several street cameras throughout the mega city turn skyward as a resounding crack rattles the windows. A ball of orange light shoots a hole in the sooty cloud cover, revealing the waning daylight. It breaks the sound barrier again as it falls, leaving a fiery smoke trail in its wake. The cameras track the objects descent closely.
Two armored ponies painted with bright blue and yellow stripes break through the forming crowd and gallop towards the edge of the platform. One has orange accents in her mane and is marked with a flaming thunderbolt on her flank, while the other is predominantly sky blue and bears a tamer picture of winged lightning. The mare shouts into the receiver plugged into a port at the base of her ear.
“Control, this is Captain Spitfire. An unidentified object has just entered Spire airspace from the east. Travelling west-southwest and falling. Did you see it?”
“We see it, bravo. You and Captain Soarin are tasked with interception.” The voice in their ears is calm and businesslike.
“Way ahead of you.”
The two’s back hooves dent the metal railing as they launch themselves out into the open air. Clear visors snap into place over their lens-like eyes as the wind resistance picks up, and a flickering HUD appears on the inside. Metal wings unfold from their sides, angling to steady their freefall. Sleek rectangular air intakes pop open within, and a shrill whine builds to a steady roar as their mana jets propel them towards the ground, quickly picking up speed.
Audio communication becoming impossible, the pair switch over to internal communicators. Soarin risks a glance at the object.
“It’s heading for the Everfree forest!”
“All that means is we’ve got to catch up to it before it gets there. I’m activating afterburners.”
Soarin gasps and rockets off to follow Spitfire, pulling out of their dive and moving to catch the strange flying object. Vapor trails behind them. The grey metal of the city becomes a blur as they cover 10 miles in less than 30 seconds, and the sound barrier is broken for the third time that day.
As the two get closer the object becomes more distinct, its smoke trail disappearing as its speed drops below air frictions ability to heat the objects surface.
“Bravos, do you have a visual?” Behind her visor, the lenses of Spitfires eyes adjust to increase her magnification.
“It’s definitely made of metal. Egg shaped, heat shield at the front. Could be some kind of reentry vehicle…”
“Control apologizes… switch to the encrypted channel and continue.”
“There’s an odd spiral structure surrounding… wait something’s happening! Gah!”
There is a tremendous burst of light from the object, forcing the onlookers back at the platform to either turn away or shield their eyes. The cameras which had been tracking it overload and begin panning back and forth, unable to see anything.
Out over the city proper the Pegasi work on stabilizing their death spiral, the automatic darkening of their visor having saved them from complete visual overload. Coming to an uneasy stop, their shrieking mana jets pointed straight down in the effort to keep their mechanical bodies airborne, the two scan the now clear skies around them.
“This is Soarin. I’ve lost all visual. The objects disappeared…” Soarin is interrupted.
“Control, I’m confirming loss of visual at 700 meters over sector 25. No immediate signs of an impact within the city or beyond. The flash could have been some sort of magical effect.” She frowns as Soarin levels a devastating glare at her through his visor.
“Please stay in the area. An attack Manti is inbound to your position. New objective is to find the vehicles landing site. A charlie squads been tasked with assisting you in the ground search. Please enforce radio silence. Good work Captain.” The line goes to static as the transmission is cut.
Spitfire ducks as Soarin attempts a jet propelled lunge at her faceplate, and stares at the stallion before her poker face cracks and she begins laughing. Soarin is not happy.
“Why do you always have to one up me in front of Control, Spitfire? At this rate, I swear I’ll never get upgraded to Sigma division!” He whines.
He’s stopped short as a butter yellow metallic hoof whacks him upside his skull plate.
“It’s your own fault, Soarin. You forgot a basic rule of S&R flying. Check the GROUND! And you don’t want to enter Sigma. Bravo’s fine. You should be happy being a top of the line model-P.” Spitfire ends her tirade with an indignant huff.
Soarin gaped wide enough that Spitfire could see the speaker at the back of his mouth. Ugh.
“But, they get to be, like, upgraded to the super badass Alicorn model! You can’t honestly say that isn’t the coolest thing ever! You must have thought about it once or twice yourself.”
“It isn’t, trust me. And no, I haven’t. I’m perfectly happy the way I am. Now shut your trap and let’s begin a grid search. I don’t want to hear you talk anymore about it.”
“Yes, Captain.”
With that, the two fly off into the gathering dusk.
-{<₰>}-
Far below, in an abandoned alleyway wedged between two similarly dilapidated buildings, a feeble neon sign flickers on. Worn by time, it whines and sparks every now and then, proclaiming “Sugarcube Corner, Home of the best cakes in Ponyville.”
Its dim light reveals the streamlined egg which just popped into existence, unnoticed by all save for the pair of
