The Genetics of an Alien, The Advancement of Ideas, and All That It Implies

Red lights pulse overhead, seemingly in time to the beat of my racing heart. They were moving so fast, screaming across my vision as I run to the command deck. Light then dark then light then dark, that combined with the wailing alarm…it almost maddening. I slam my palm into the identification scanner and push my way through the automated doors before they even open all the way.

The computerized voice announces my presence to no one on the bridge.

Monarch Tillian Farseeing the Excellent on deck.

I pay no attention to it as I come to a stop in front of the blinking red Status-console. Normally, this would have been overseen by the XO but…

I shake my head to clear my mind and get back to the current situation.  I tap the holo-screen and my insides twist as I read the glowing red text.

Maura bolt in the navigational cooler!

By my ancestors, this is bad. As if on cue, I’m nearly thrown to the floor as the ship gives a violent pitch to the left. I have to scrabble all four legs to keep purchase on the smooth floor and grip the console as hard as I can.

“Computer!” I bellow to make sure my voice is heard over the alarms. “Drop us out of L-Space now!”

At once, Monarch Tillian.

I watch as the large viewport beyond the arranged consoles and empty command seats as the stretched thin white lines of distant stars shorten before a flushed violent shade of purple, dark swirls of a nebula beyond come into view. It bleeds together into an indistinct mass of colors and as the ship decelerates, I feel the g-forces pull at every inch of my body.

Finally, the ship stops, the infinite that is space stretches out beyond, the alarms silence, and I take a deep shuddering breath as I sink my haunches in the seat behind me.

“Wrylic be praised.”  I mumble, ruminating on just how damned lucky I am.

The Nav-Cooler was necessary to keep the whole Nav-System from overheating and sending the ship through a sun or into a planet at faster-than-light travel. Had I not been woken up by the sirens, had I been just a few minutes late, or a few seconds slower, I could very well have turned my ship into a glorified coffin. Or bomb if the solar-coils overheated.  I spend a few more minutes, thinking on just how lucky I was before I realize just how much trouble I’m in.

I can’t use the Nav-System anymore. I’m stuck. Stranded. And I can’t even fix the problem. I don’t know how and even if there were any engineers left who did, the ship would need to dock first and I’m know for a fact I’m the furthest I could ever be from a space dock. In fact, with the Nav-System unusable…

I look to the viewport. Beyond there lay the infinite expanse of space, a plain of mystery. Somewhere I could now no longer breach.

“Computer.”

Yes, Monarch? The voice that responds to my call is monotone but female, probably to make it more pleasing to the senses. Only it’s not. Not for me. Not anymore, it far too familiar but I have to put up with it. It’s been my only companion for awhile now.

“Status report.”

It beeps as it processes my command.

Flagititus Royal Family Flagship. Designation:(FLC-278)

Sensors: Excellent

Weapon Status: Excellent

Current Shield Status: Excellent

Current Speed: N/A

Current Fuel Supply: Excellent

Current Cargo Space: Poor

Current Passenger Space: Excellent

Computer Logs 15 members on board initial launch

Current Crew Live Signatures: One

I feel my chest twinge at that but before I find myself thinking on that the computer distracts me, obviously not done with it’s assessment.

Life Support Systems: Green

Warning: Structural Anomaly detected.

Detached Maura bolt lodged in the Navigation cooling cylinders.

A silence lay heavy on my shoulders and my voice is so small I’m surprised that the computer can actually hear it. “Resulting Damage?”

Sensors indicate bolt has made physical contact with solar coils and melted upon contact.

The resulting slag has fused with Drains numbers three, four and six. Agitation Drainage ports three, four, and six are currently welded open, causing coolant to be ejected faster than it can be replaced.

“Recommendations?”

No response.

“Recommendations?” I say again, just a little louder this time.

Further usage of the L-Space drive with result in catastrophic damage to ship and crew.

Recommendations: Dry dock the ship for repairs at the nearest colonized planet for repairs or, if possible, the homeworld system. At maximum speed without L-Space drive, calculations predict 234,567 cycles until arrival at nearest colonized planet.

A bitter laugh leaves my throat before I can stop it and I look at the empty throne-like command seat behind me. It’s elaborate, fit for a ruler. Carved out of wood and given the finest and softest cushions for him to lay on. On its backrest is my family crest, the crest of the royal family, of the Tillians. An open hand, a blade symmetrically crossing behind an open eye.

“And if there is no homeworld to go back to?”

I must have either whispered it, or the computer didn’t have an answer. Either way I don’t ask again.

“Current Location?”

At the border of Sector Armandina, nearest to the edge of the Takaz sector.

I stand and make my way over to the Starmap, right in front of my throne. “Computer, load the backup crystal net disc for the Takaz-sector.”

The surface blinks as the holo of the Versian Empires, discovered and explored sectors of stars, rise before the sector I asked for is highlighted and zoomed in on. Only its only then that I realize how far away I am. A red blip marks the ship, a huge cluster of stars are clustered around the small dot and right in front of it, is blank space. In fact, more than half of the map is blank. The surface of the screen is clear, empty, unknown.

The Takaz-sector had just been recently marked by the empire, the last one in a long list of sectors that was scheduled to be explored. It was clear the scientists never got to it.

Good. I wanted to put as much space as I could between myself and what I was leaving behind. Devines be damned of the result.

“Computer. Take us in slow. I want you scanning everything ahead of us.”

Yes, Monarch. Is there something specific I should be scanning for?

“Something similar to the homeworld. Gravitational pull, oxygen levels. Search for planets like that.” I say.

At once, Monarch.

The ship trembles a little as the engine’s ignite. I turn away from the Starmap to leave the command deck, stopping only to give my throne a tentative pat as I pass it.

I as walk the empty halls, my hooves making an odd counter note to the silence that surrounds me. These halls were so busy at one point, Verians like himself going to and fro as their jobs required. He could still hear see echoes of work being done. The tapping of fingers on holopads. Arms being raised as those in military command saluted him and the bows that came from the ones who were not. A shout or two coming from some higher in command to some greenhorn who made some kind of mistake.

This battlecruiser had become my home. Was my home. Is my home.

I, at that time, had thought so many others around to be loud and uncomfortable. I never really liked crowds unless I was at a distance. Having so many bodies around me had made my skin crawl under my coat for some reason and I had made efforts to separate myself. Staying in my chambers unless called for something of extreme importance and, even then, I never gathered around the Starmaps or consoles on the command deck as my many advisors and generals did when they boarded to talk strategy or something else. I would instead sit on the throne, where one needed permission from me to approach, that way I could deal with them one at a time if they needed to speak of more private things.

It was a prefect system for me.

Now…

Now I would do anything to have that discomfort back. I wanted to see others moving about. I wanted to hear a clamor of voices. Get that twitch of unease when someone touched me, if only just so I could wake up from this bad night-terror that was the silence that greeted my steps.

After what felt like cycles, I reach my chambers. Just like with most things that symbolize my family, the royal crest is engraved into the elaborately designed metal doors. Important figures of my kind are stamped into the metal, telling of legends and important stories in my kind’s history, much like the ancient tapestries that lined the great halls in the place back home.

I place my hand to the scanner and watch as red light envelops it before turning green. The doors open and the sound of music follows.

I enter my chambers and almost immediately, an overwhelming sadness nearly makes my legs buckle. It’s a feeling brought on by nostalgia and threatens to turn me into a blubbering mess. I swallow the sob that is building in my throat and it turns into a burning knot in my stomach.

I know but at the same time don’t know what brought this on. My chambers were an exact replica of my room back in the palace yet I’ve been sleeping in here ever since I was first moved here for my safety.

The purple privacy curtains still draped overhead, right above my resting furnishings. The viewports on the wall behind were styled in similar golden frames. On the wall to my right is a shelf stocked from floor to ceiling with Text-holos, some are actual print books, most of them first editions that had been in the royal family since it’s founding and were rescued during the evacuation. Even a few of the scrolls of ancient Verian history had made its way there.

Next to that is the clothing storage space with a small stage for me to be dressed by servants on and full body mirror for me to view my appearance. It’s as wide as I am long, only slightly shorter than I am. if I wanted to see all of myself, I would have to bend forward a little.

On the right side of the room, where the gentle melodies are coming from, is my music and vid collection. A cabinet sits under a large viewscreen, full of nearly six thousand planetary revolutions of entertainment. From the most modern performers to the most ancient chants. Between that than the library, I wouldn’t be begging for a break in the tedium when I wanted.

Of course some changes had to been made for design’s sake, it was a military vessel after all. The washroom was smaller and…

That was about it.

A smaller washroom.

I believe I can live with that.

I walk to the washroom, snapping my fingers as I do and the music that was playing cuts off as I shut the door behind me. I wave my hand over the handbasin and it fills with water, already the perfect temperature. Once the flow of water stops, I scoop some with bath hands and splash it in my face.

I do it once. Twice. Three times. On the third time, I reach for the drying cloth and wipe the excess dripping from my brow.

Then I look in the mirror. The reflection of my face, all sharp angles, stares back. My hair is wild and the tired marks under my eyes are only slightly unnoticeable in my grey skin and I idly wonder how anyone could have thought I could have been a leader.

I step back from the mirror just enough to see the rest of myself and am…unimpressed

My build is that of a very tall slender individual who had developed a great deal of muscle, with a long spine accompanied by a waist that would never fill out the way most of my kind did. My black horns, which had grown from my head in spirals added to my height considerably, slimming me out further.

I turn to the side and examine my fur, dark purple with an odd patterned white stripe gradient, fur that comes to a stop at my waist just under my shirt.

Maybe it was because of my height that they considered me a leader. A youngblood, not even unified yet. I scoff at the thought as I strip of my shirt, leaving the bathroom with a plan to just sleep these thoughts away.

Monarch.

I flinch at the sudden interruption as the computer’s voice fills the room from the Com system.

“Yes?” I growl, my desire for sleep testing my patience. “What is it?”

A planet of optimal conditions as been located, following your prerequisites.

My growing annoyance is quickly doused, replaced with a good deal of confusion. “Already?” It couldn’t have been more than an hour at the very least.

Affirmative, Monarch.

“Show me the data.”

As soon as I say the words a holo-screen phases right in front of me, showing me a planet. It’s green and blue, obviously it’s able to support plant life. It’s oxygen levels are excellent and there are signs of weather patterns in its atmosphere. Gravity levels are fine and the atmosphere is nontoxic.

“Computer, take us down.”

Yes, Monarch.

I feel the shift as the ship begins to make planetfall.

I turn to my resting area and slowly lay across it before something occurs to me.

“Any anomalies I should be aware of?” I say quickly, ready to cancel my decent order just in case.

Planetary rotation is near non-existent. Sensors indicate local star is orbiting the planet.

For a moment, I’m struck silent not really sure how to process what I just heard. “Repeat, Computer.”

Planetary rotation is near non-existent. Sensors indicate local star is orbiting the planet.

“That is impossible.” Maybe I should run a diagnostic on the ships A.I. server? I frown at that thought, if the A.I. is malfunctioning then I will be in some serious trouble. The thought of being put near a black hole—

There is no way such a thing could happen. A planet being circled by the sun? Ludicrous.

For now, I wanted going to get some sleep. “Computer, run a self-diagnostic after the ship lands and wake me up if there are any changes in the local area.”

Yes, Monarch Tillian.

~~~~

From her perch in Canterlot Castle, the Princess of the night observed the sky. She had made the stars brilliant tonight, her way of celebrating Tirek’s defeat at the hooves of Twilight Sparkle and her friends. Sure, it was a month later but time refused to diminish the absolute joy she felt at the thought of one of Equestria’s most dangerous enemies finally back in chains where he belonged and she was sure her sister felt the same way. She would continue to do this in the purple alicorn’s honor until the next trial.

She continued her work, fitting the last star in place with a final flash of her horn the same way an artist would put a final flick of paint on their work. Then she noticed something odd. One of her stars was moving. She pulsed her magic at spot, expecting it to move back into place as she directed.

Only it didn’t.

The night alicorn watched as one of her stars continued it’s path out of the sky. She reached out with her magic again...and froze as a realization hit her.

It wasn’t one of her stars. She felt no connection with it as she normally did with the nighttime sky. She had no idea what it was, but it certainly wasn’t under her power.

She saw the oddity fall, blazing, from the heavens. Before it slowly began to deviate from it’s course, turning slightly before disappearing over the horizon. She continued to follow is decent with her eyes until she could see it no more.