Chapter 1: This Chapter Is Not About Rabbits
It was a fantastic summer day in Equestria.
Well, everywhere that wasn't a freezing pole, arid desert, or towering mountain, it was a fantastic spring day.
Or was it summer?
It was kind of hard to tell in Equestria, where the seasons were, more-or-less: Nightmare Night, Snowponies, and Picnics.
It was especially nice in the area around Ponyville. Birds sang and raccoons played in the wooded areas, rabbits and groundhogs frolicked in the plains and clearings, chirping and squeaking and howling with joy. They were critters, and critters need not care for death nor taxes.
A certain two little critters, a hedgehog named Thorn and a rabbit named Carrot were playing hide and seek in a sizable field that they liked to call The Grassway.
Carrot jumped about, sniffing the air in hopes of catching the scent of his hidden friend.
He checked in Bushmeister, Thorn wasn't there.
He looked under Stumpy, Thorn wasn't there.
He looked behind Big Rock, Thorn wasn't there either!
Where was Thorn?
Carrot thought of all Thorn's favorite hiding places, and remembered he had forgotten somewhere. Carrot ran over to the hole where he and Thorn dug for dinosaur bones. There was Thorn!
"Found you! Found you!" shouted Carrot, jumping up and down.
"Yeah, you got me!" giggled Thorn, "Okay, your turn to hide!" Then Thorn turned and started counting, "One..."
That was all Carrot needed. He took off towards his favorite hiding place, the Broken Teapot. But, when he got close to the teapot, he took a sharp turn for Big Rock. Thorn would never find him there!
He jumped up on top of Big Rock, and from Big Rock, he could see everything! He saw Thorn looking for him in Stumpy, he saw Brown Bear giving Dolphy some berries, and he saw Bunni picking flowers in the meadow.
Bunni was the strongest, smartest, nicest rabbit Carrot knew, but she didn't know that he thought that, because Carrot had never told her. She always did her best to uphold justice and peace, and make sure everyone important was happy.
Just then, Carrot made a decision. He would tell her today.
He leaped off of Big Rock, and he bolted towards his love through the Wildflower field, making a bouquet for her as he ran.
But, Carrot was going a bit too fast, so he bumped into her. When she turned around, he offered her the flowers, "Miss Bunni, you are the strongest, smartest, nicest rabbit I have ever met."
Bunni was stunned, and blushing slightly. She reached her hand towards his flowers and said "Stop objectifying me you fucking shitlord."
As you may have guessed by the title, this chapter is not about rabbits, hares, or jackalopes. Which is why is should not come as a surprise to anyone when a large metal tube burst into existence a few hands from the ground, crushing both rabbits, and ending this ridiculous lagomorph subplot.
The homicidal cylinder in question was about eighteen hands in diameter, and about forty hands long. It was sitting horizontally, with four large electrodes on top, and six long metal bars across the bottom, perpendicular to the main cylinder. Each end was closed, but inset about half a hand, with two gray strips down the center of the circle.
For whatever disgusting eldritch thing may be reading this in ignorance, one hand is equal to 4 inches, 101.6 millimeters, 5.333 etzbahs, 0.0000636 millariums, or 0.00000000078 ph'thlemeps.
Just then, one of the ends of the capsule split in two, sliding to the outside of the main tube, revealing a creature who scanned the surrounding area. It was masculine though mildly skinny , holding a weathered pump shotgun and clad in a light blue shirt and policeman's hat, "Area's clear, air's clean, nothing's on a cob..." his grip on his weapon relaxed slightly, "Looks good!" he shouted, giving the door behind him a good couple knocks.
The door behind him, which was identical to the one previously in front of him, then split open as well, allowing a second entity to boot him out of the airlock, then stepping out itself. This creature was considerably more feminine, wearing glasses and a lab coat, with it's hair in a ponytail behind it.
"Excellent work Mike," she said, her voice wrought with sarcasm, "In your first day you've spent two-thousand dollars on a barely functioning weapon, stranded us in an uncharted universe, failed to show up to work on time, and broken our last working vending machine."
she attempted to pinch the bridge of her nose, finding it difficult due to lack of fingers, "Why did I even waste money on hiring you?"
A third creature exited the capsule, looking around nervously, "Because you found the out hard way that the multiverse is a dangerous place?" he asked, rubbing the gash on his cheek.
"Mmm, yes," the bespectacled female said distantly, "Cybernetically augmented honey badgers... Why didn't I think of that?"
"Holy ballsacks!" another creature said, running full tilt out of the clown car of a capsule, "Do you realize where we are?" before anyone could answer, he continued excitedly "The off-green trees, the elated animals, the smells of Autumn even though it's the middle of summer," he jumped high in the air as he shouted: "We're in Equestria!"
The mare of the party was light lavender, nearly white, with a mane of a slightly darker color. Her eyes were dangerously purple, to the point of making the rest of her look even paler. "And the fact that we're all pastel horses didn't tip you off?" she asked, annoyed.
The deep cornflower stallion had a bouncy, off-white mane, "Oh yeah, that too," he said, giggling slightly.
"Well congratu-lations Mike, your royal fuck-up might bare some research. I might not fire you after all" the purple mare said. She then produced from the cylinder what appeared to be a softball-sized ball of steel with a chicken-wire funnel extending out from it, and with a surprisingly primal grunt, given it's maker, tossed it high into the sky where it slowly rose out of sight.
"What was-"
"Satellite." she said simply, cutting Mike off, "It'll provide me a map of the area, and drop a beacon for revisiting," she glared at Mike, "that is, if we ever get the D.D.C. fixed, Mike," she made sure to jam-pack as much venom into the last word as possible, "Now let's go, science waits for no woman. Come on, Adam."
"Wait!" the blue stallion shouted, raising a hoof in the air "These aren't robo-tel,"
"Metallivora capensis" the lavender mare corrected, straightening her glasses.
"These are ponies you guys, if they hear us calling each other 'Mike' and 'Clare', they'll know something's up! We need Equestrian names."
"Don't you think the non-equestrian clothes, speech, and technology will tip them off too?" asked Alex.
He was gold all over. His hair was more of a brass, and his eyes hinted towards green, but he was more or less an Oscar in pony form.
"Eh, whatever, I just wanna give everyone names." shrugged the blue stallion. "Now, the secret to your name is in your cutie mark," he said, pointing to his flank "Mine is... a star... clipboard?"
"No no no," the mare said, examining his backside closely, "look at the formatting, there's clearly a small, seven-to-ten letter segment between each sentence. It's a script." she said in a know-it-all voice, her favorite voice of all.
"Ooohh... Okay, gimme a sec... OOHmygod HOOly shit, I've got it." he said, practically busting at the seams, "Genre Savvy! And Alex, yours is a rainbow!"
"...So?"
"And you've got multiple personalities!"
"Uhh... sso?"
"Soo, you're Spectrum!"
The newly dubbed Spectrum thought on this for a moment, "That's... actually pretty cool. Thanks."
"And me?" asked Mike, a bit eager for his name.
He had arguably the best palate out of all of them. He was a denim stallion with a messy navy blue mane, and deep violet eyes. And yet, even with such pleasing colors he still managed to look generic.
A security guard would have to have a cool name, Mike thought, something like Muzzle Flare, or Gunpowder, or Guardian, or-
"I think your old title works well," Genre said, after a moment of thought. "Nightguard!"
"Well..." Mike said, looking at his golden badge cutie mark, "that isn't exactly what I had in-"
"Okay, then you're Doorjam!" Genre said with a sly grin, putting his arm around Doorjam's neck, "Welcome to the team, Doorjam!"
"Well, I mea-"
But before Doorjam could finish, he was interrupted by the fifth and final pony stepping out of the D.D.C., closing it behind him.
He was bright red, with an equally blue mane and eyes, his cutie mark was a Sulfur atom, surrounded by six flouride atoms
"If we're discussing names, is Titty Twisterene an option?" the stallion said in his deep, bored voice, "Because at this point that is the only viable option for me."
"Well duh," Genre replied, with a small spasm of his head, "Yours is the easiest of all! Just change the middle two letters. Atom"
"Alright..." Atom considered, in his trademark monotone, "but if anyone asks, I'm Narcissus Nipplus, and Atom is a slave name pushed on me by my previous owners, Donald Trump and Magilla Gorilla."
The last member of the team, who had been spinning in circles trying to get a good look at her flank for the past several minutes, finally spoke, "Well after careful consideration, I've found my cutie mark to be a portal. Given the style of names and my personal attributes, I think Event Horizon woul-"
"You're purple and you like science, your name's Ultraviolet." chimed in Genre Savvy, cutting her off.
"Wouldn't Event Horizon be-"
"You're Ultraviolet, let's roll!" Genre yelled, charging towards a town in the distance, carefree. His eyes glowed for a moment, "Hah! Nice one Peacekeeper!"
"Ughh..." Violet groaned, "it's like putting up with a bunch of children."
"If you don't stop whining," the suddenly gray pony beside her said, "the only thing I'll be putting up is my hoof up your ass."
Chapter 2: The Start Of Something Good
"Interesting," Ultraviolet contemplated as she trotted across the field towards the mildly distant hamlet, engrossed in the device she held in her telekinesis, "I'll need to do more research, but at the moment it would appear that any humanoid entity entering this universe goes through spontaneous extra-universal metamorphosis, bending them into an equine shape."
"What's that?" Doorjam asked, trotting with his employer, shotgun over his shoulder.
"Occasionally when a human body, or any other body for that matter, detects it is entering an alien universe it uses the few seconds in inter-universal space to reconfigure itself to a shape suiting the oncoming universe both for communicative reasons and matters of camouflaging," Ultraviolet explained shortly, as if it was common knowledge that he clearly should have known.
"Actually... I meant that." Doorjam said, pointing a hoof towards the gadget floating in front of her.
It looked a bit like an Iphone, if it had been designed by Doctor Frankenstein. It was a brick-phone, with several large red buttons on the right side, and a touch-screen where the numbers may have been. It had a large battery bolted to it's bottom, a tube of green burbling liquid along the left side, and three antennae extending from the top. The middle one held a small satellite dish, and the other two appeared to be electrodes, the arc of which changed in color and pattern every time Ultraviolet gave it a new command.
Ultraviolet puffed out her chest, "Field device. I designed, built, and upgraded it myself."
"I can tell." Doorjam said under his breath, as an electrode broke free, still arcing with it's brother as it hung by a thread.
"I prefer functionality to flexibility. I built all of them, meaning I can fix all of them," Ultraviolet said to Doorjam, who had whipped his head around, eyebrows practically floating, "I'm arrogant, Mike, not deaf. When you've built as many devices as I have, and summoned as many monsters as I have, you learn how to listen."
Ahead of them, Spectrum was scanning the horizon, whilst Genre Savvy and Atom frolicked towards Ponyville.
"Oh my god, this is so fucking awesome!" Genre shouted, skipping through the flowery fields, "It's exactly as good as I dreamed, but better!" Genre ran to Ponyville, frolicking as much as he could on the way, ecstatic.
Suddenly, a painfully red hoof shot out from the brush, pulling Genre inside.
"Stay quiet, you might alert them," Atom whispered with an unusual amount of emphasis. His head slowly emerged from the bushes, a crown of braided wildflowers around his head, "Soon my necklace of equestrian butterfly anuses will be complete, and I will be unstoppable as grand fashion poobah."
Genre burst out laughing, throwing a hoof around his neck and giving him a half-hug as Atom gave a small smile, his equivalent of bursting out laughing.
"C'mon, you two." Spectrum growled, voice like sandpaper, "We're not gonna get The Tube fixed by playing in the bushes."
"Oh, fuckin' re-lax Peacekeeper. We're in Equestria. It's not exactly a hostile environment." Genre put a hoof to his chin, a sly grin spreading across his face, "Well actually... You're here, so I guess it is a hostile environment!"
Spectrum gave a growl and continued towards the village in the distance, as Ultraviolet and Doorjam caught up. As they passed Genre and Atom reluctantly followed, however Atom still wore his crown, walking slowly, and doing his best to entice his prey.
"I just wanted to have some fun in Equestria..." whimpered Genre, "It's not like it's, y'know, my life-long dream or anything..."
"Now now, we're here for business, not pleasure." reminded Ultraviolet, "Well, actually, we're here because Mike put us into this beseeching little quandary, but now that we are here, it's for business."
Tears began to form in Genre's eyes, as his mouth quivered.
Perhaps she was being to hard on him. He was a Brony, after all. This was his wildest dream come true, "Alright, alright, in a few months you can take a vacation here, given you don't mess anything up, okay?"
"Okay..." Genre said, still quite dejected.
"Hi!" shouted a pink mare, perhaps more loudly than was required.
Even the sight of her brought a smile to Genre's face, but there was so much more, now. She smelled like light airy frosting, and her breath was so sweet it nearly made his teeth hurt. His smile grew wider and wider by the moment, as his favorite mare rambled. He already knew Pinkie was a joy to listen to, but it was so different now. He wasn't just talking to Pinkie, he could feel her. She gave off an aura of lighthearted fun. Of childhood wonder. Of laughter. The kind of feeling that turned cardboard boxes into spaceships, and playgrounds into fortresses.
"What had you saddie-waddie? Ooh! Is it because you're blue? Because I think blue is an awesome color! I mean, it's not my favorite color, my favorite color is pink! Oh, by the way my name's Pinkie Pie what's yours?"
Genre brought her into a hug as she giggled, twisting slightly. This was why he loved her, she was so approachable. He didn't have to worry about creeping her out with his friendliness. She was a friend to all, tried and true.
"I'm Genre Savvy. This is Ultraviolet, Spectrum, Doorjam, and Atom," he said releasing her and pointing to each pony in turn, "Should we tell her?" he whispered to Ultraviolet, who shook her head without looking up from the field device.
"We need to get moving," Ultraviolet said, finally taking her eyes off of the mobile phone monstrosity, "Genre? Who would be our best contact in the interest of repairing the D.D.C.?
"Probably Princess Twilight Sparkle." Genre gestured to the towering crystal castle not 40 feet away.
"How did we not notice that before now?" Doorjam said quietly.
"Princess? Are you telling me that this 'perfect society' you keep talking about is a monarchy?" Ultraviolet said, turning to walk toward the castle.
A large gasp sounded from behind them.
"Uh, Pinkie?" Spectrum looked around at the empty space behind them, once again gold-on-gold.
"It's an elected monarchy," Genre explained, "maybe. I'm not exactly sure how Equestian politics work."
"This town is expressly thatched roof cottages and gas streetlamps. It's ridiculous." Ultraviolet argued, speeding up.
"It's cozy." Genre said defensively, matching her speed.
"There's no electricity!"
"Who needs it?"
"I do! I cannot power a research station on happy thoughts!"
"Yes you can, you're a unicorn!"
"Well I don't-" Thankfully, the meaningless quarrel was ended by both the fully-grown children crashing into a crystal fortress. They both slowly stood, rubbing their respective muzzles. As they both opened their mouths to continue, Atom stepped between them.
Atom wasn't bored anymore. Atom was angry.
"If the two of you don't stop this fucking bickering bullshit, I will modify your vocal chords, hook you up to a speaker system, and twist your nipples so hard that your screams reach 1500 decibels, ripping a hole in the fabric of existence, and destroying the entire universe. Understand?" Atom was glaring back and forth between the two of them, as Spectrum looked on in horror, "You two have been pulling this since you met, and I'm sick of it. We're all sick of it. I don't know what you two's fucking squabble is, but get over it."
Ultraviolet regained her composure as the door opened, as Genre simply stood, finding particular interest in his hooves.
"Um, hello?" said the small dragon doorman, understandably confused at the group of quite literally otherworldly ponies at the threshold of the castle, "Can I help you guys?"
"Yes, we would like to speak with Princess Twilight Sparkle, we need to speak with her and her..." Ultraviolet trailed off, looking to Genre.
"Five." he answered quietly.
"Her and her five friends urgently." Ultraviolet continued.
"Uh, she's busy right now. But she might be available in around an hour." the reptile attempted to close the door.
"Busy doing what?" Ultraviolet asked, again turning to Genre.
"Napping," he said, still timidly, "uh Vi? Maybe I could handle the social aspect?"
"I am your employer meaning I have full power to-" she felt Atom grab an area of her chest, relative to where her nipples usually were, "-allow you to handle the diplomatic interactions."
Genre's disposition brightened a bit, "Hey, Spikey?"
Spike backed away slightly, clearly more than a bid unsettled, "How do you know my name?"
"Well, who hasn't heard of the hero of the crystal empire?" Genre saw Spike's expression relax a bit, "Listen, bud." Genre knelt down, getting on Spike's level, "It's really important that we see Twilight. We kinda need her and her friends' help to get home, and until then we're stuck here. Can we pleeaase see her?" Genre attempted to look as adorable as possible during the last part of that sentence and, to his credit, he did very well considering he had only been in this form for the about twenty minutes.
Evidently, it worked, as Spike sighed and led them through the castle to a large library "Twilight! There's ponies here that need to talk to you!" Spike shouted, "Twilight?" he said flatly.
Twilight snorted awake from between a towering pile of books, and an equally large pile of pancakes, "Spike!" Twilight cleared her throat, blushing slightly, "Um, what can I help you with."
"It would be best if you beckoned for your friends first, I'd like to explain this as few times as possible." Ultraviolet said, slapping Genre's hoof as he reached for a pancake.
When Pinkie Pie finally arrived, completing the Mane 6, everyone was already occupied. Twilight was talking at length to Ultraviolet, Spectrum had been quietly discussing his favorite plants with Fluttershy, Doorjam had impressed Applejack and Rainbow Dash with the sheer surplus of dangerous things he had done for minimum wage, and while Genre Savvy and Rarity had originally been talking about fashion, she now wore a bright blush as they spoke in hushed voices.
"I'm here!" Pinkie shouted, as everyone but Rarity looked over with some level of excitement. Rarity simply jumped, and touched a hoof to her chest.
Everyone gathered around the table where Twilight and Ultraviolet had been working. The table was covered in a number of gems, scrolls, books, and pancakes.
"...and with enough power I suppose you could even pocket whole rooms, but that would take a very large amount of magic to summon," Twilight said thoughtfully.
"Interesting..." Ultraviolet mused, "I've been playing around with stretched space, and I've successfully done so with my Capsule, but pocket dimensions sound so much easier. I suppose the really is more than one way to skin a cat."
Twilight gave her a look, as Fluttershy held Spectrum close, on the verge of tears.
"It's just an expression," she said, waving her hoof nonchalantly, "the important part is you're all here now, so we can finally begin. How does this work again? Is visualization required?" the last part was whispered in a barely subtle way to Twilight.
"Concentrate on sending power to your horn, and imagine yourself pulling the object out of an invisible pocket," Twilight whispered back behind her hoof.
Ultraviolet gritted her teeth, closing her eyes tight. With a flash and a sound like a burping zipper, a black line formed a few hands in front of her, paper thin. It then stretched to a square, and from the darkness within, a large, wheeled blackboard was pulled with a tug of Ultraviolet's lavender magic, rolling to the head of the table as the pocket dimension closed.
"Let's begin," she said, as Genre slowly inched towards the blackboard, taking a piece of chalk in his magic, "you have had dealings with humans in the past, so for anyone who isn't aware, they look a bit like"- she turned to the blackboard with a piece of chalk, only to find Genre was putting the finishing touches on a Vitruvian Man-"...that. We are not from the human universe you know of, but a completely different one. Well... We're all from different universes, but that's unimportant. What is important is that, as far as I can tell, there are an infinite amount of universes. Whether currently or effectively via multiverse expansion, there are endless amounts of worlds out there.
"Every possible event has happened, will happen, and is happening. In fact, there is another universe, unmeasurably far away, where you are giving me this talk. A universe where a child-"
"Foal!" Genre shouted.
"Where a foal-"
"Pound Cake!"
"Where a pound cake is giving you this talk."
"Well... I uh... I meant the foal, Pound Cake. But, there's probably a universe where she's being told about multiverses by an actual cake too, huh?" Genre said thoughtfully.
"Precisely."
"Oh my goodness... The implications of this are... Astounding!" Twilight was pacing, eyes practically alight with awe, "This could solve world hunger, improve technologies and magic beyond our wildest dreams, bring knowledge and culture from completely different circumstances, this could change the way we look at civilization and life itself!"
"Which is exactly why we're researching it." Ultraviolet said, adjusting her glasses.
"So, with all those universes and all their fancy technology, why'd y'all come to us?" Applejack asked.
"Well, we didn't exactly come to you," she said, giving Doorjam a look that could melt steel, "thanks to Mike, we're stranded in this... technologically challenged universe. Which brings me to our next order of business," Ultraviolet turned full towards the table where the Mane 6 were sitting, "we need a building to act as a temporary research station and workshop, so we can fix the D.D.C."
"The what?" asked several ponies, including Genre, despite the fact that he not only rode in it, but helped name the device.
"The D.D.C. Dunkelrot Dimensional Capsule. I suppose I should have introduced us by our human names. My name is Clare Dunkelrot."
"Story time!" Pinkie Pie chimed, a bag of popcorn inexplicably in her hooves.
"Exposition time!" Genre mimicked from beside her, suddenly holding a large cola. As Mike looked at both of them questioningly, they they gave each other a glance.
"Rule of funny," they shrugged in unison.
"My name is Clare Dunkelrot," she repeated, a little sternly to hopefully silence the class clowns, "and I am an accredited scientist and genius. I have a masters in engineering, a deep intricate knowledge of spacial and quantum laws, and I build most of what I need myself. From scratch. Now, I won't sugar coat things. Exploring the multiverse is not a childhood dream or a lifelong fantasy, it simply seems that I am the only scientist capable of doing so, and thus, the exploration falls to me.
"Inventing the D.C.C. wasn't some amazing storybook breakthrough, either. I designed it, I built it, it worked. Simple. Measure twice cut once has not failed me yet. However after several tests I decided to do in-depth research. Actual extra-universal exploration. So, I elected that I hire a team to help me with my work. I'm a genius, but I'm no warrior. So, after a few new scanning devices at home base, and several million lines of code, I-"
"Wait." Twilight set her hooves on Violet's shoulders, "Several, million!?"
She puffed out her chest, "When you're as smart as I am, you can build things to write code for you. Anyhow, after several million lines of code, I managed to, over the course of a few days, find a universe where severe genetic mutation was relatively common, allowing for superhuman residents. That's where I hired them." Violet gestured to all of her team but Doorjam.
"Okay, I wanna tell everypony our powers!" Genre chimed, "Hiya! I'm Genre Savvy, and I can examine the media I'm in!" with a small grunt, his eyes glowed hot white as he gritted his teeth, brightening the room considerably. After a moment, his eyes returned to normal, and he returned to his cheerful composure, looking directly at a distant wall, "Hey, you used the wrong 'it's' twice last chapter, watch out for that," he offered sweetly.
"This here is Atom!" Atom mouthed what seemed to be "diddy twist-reed" to the ladies in front of him, "he can manipulate matter on an atomic level! Got anyway to show them?"
"I've been working on this since we came in." Atom held a book out to Twilight, "Although I would have preferred an issue of Megalomaniac Mammaries Monthly."
The book's cover had completely changed to solid wood, with blocky, swirling trails of Bismuth running through it, and every few pages, the words had been changed from black to silver.
"Amazing... You changed the ink to silver?" Twilight asked, taking in every detail of the book.
"Wh- Silver? What, do think I'm some sort of amateur? Some kinda punk?" Atom marched towards her, pointing an accusing hoof, "I am a stunning periodic ballerina, a master of my molecular tutu." He returned to his normal posture, "I felt like showing off. That's Rhodium."
"Rhodium? Rhodium? Like, worth 1500 Bits an ounce Rhodium? That Rhodium!?" he nodded as Twilight's eyes grew even larger, "That's amazing... there is so much you could do with this..."
"And this here's Spectrum! He's awesome." Genre jumped beside Spectrum, putting his hoof around his neck, and pulling him into a very one-sided hug.
"Uh, hi. We're Spectrum..." they trailed off shyly, "My physical shape and abilities are governed by my mental and emotional state."
"We?" Rarity raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, Spectrum is a number of people. Well... not people, personalities. Five, actually. I'm... Goldenrod, and I'm kinda the dominant personality. Oh! And I can grow certain..." They searched for the right words, "Obscure life forms." Spectrum took a deep breath, and as they exhaled all the gold on their body seemed to singe, like a film burning through. In it's wake was a slightly taller stallion. He was deep gray, with a touch of red. His mane, matted and long, was charcoal, and his eyes blood red.
He was very unique in that he was gray and red.
In fact, he doubted than anyone else could have a character of the same colors.
He wore his scruff quite well, complimented by the multitude of scars covering him, most notably the pencil-sized one across his right eye.
Glaring at the group, his voice came out low and gravelly, "I'm Gunmetal, despite what Genre will tell you," from his tattered saddlebags he pulled a considerably large Bowie knife.
"W-what's that for?" Fluttershy shivered behind Rainbow Dash, who wore a look of unease.
"Prey," Gunmetal said flatly as Fluttershy withdrew even more, "I'm in charge of keeping us alive during a marooning situation. If it breaks, I can use it. If it bleeds, I can kill it. If it dies, I can eat it."
Fluttershy whimpered as Spectrum exhaled again, their color went from gray to deep red, and their saddlebags were replaced with bright red fatigues, but there was no burning this time. At least, no subtle burning.
Spectrum exploded with a crashing bang, limbs and entrails flying. A hoof landed near Rarity, who recoiled in fear. In the remains of Gunmetal stood a tall maroon stallion with hard features, and a chin like a crate. All the guts, and even the burns on the castle floor faded away into nothingness, but somehow the Mane 6 didn't seem relieved. Neither did Spike.
"Teeen hut! Sergeant Deere reporting for duty." The helmeted warrior examined his surroundings, "or in this case, maybe Sergeant Red Alert would be a better name. Or maybe, Currant Event, or Puce Duce!" He said, giggling slightly as all eyes watched him with unease.
Well, all Equestria-native eyes.
"I am our field tactician, and master strategist. If it swims, I can sink it, if it flies I can-"
"Peacekeeper already used that joke," Genre offered helpfully from behind his coke, as he patted Pinkie Pie comfortingly.
"Oh... Well in that case I'm in charge of unit command and field movements if we ever see combat with another tactical enemy!"
"Deere, cybernetically enhanced honey badgers are not a tactical enemy," Ultraviolet said from behind her hoof.
"They are when you fight them with an entrenching tool!" Alert shouted, swinging his hoof wildly, "You see they're naturally resistant to blunt trauma, and the lasers make it very hard to-"
But Red Alert's war story, and I use the term "war" very loosely, was interrupted by another transformation. Half the ponies and all the dragons in the room flinched, but with a hasty breath the dark red coat, and a good deal of his muzzle, fell as dust, and blew into nonexistence as the new mare opened her eyes and gave a sly smirk.
The mare was white as snow, with champagne hair, and dangerous platinum irises, which barely stood out against the whites of her eyes. It nearly looked as if a blond mare had been dipped in flour, "Well, aren't you a pretty buncha' sluts? My name's Baby Powder, but you can just call me baby~"
The tilde is not there for effect, we assure you. Were you there listening, you would have heard it.
"Now, I'm a bit of a chemist myself, but I don't exactly make hydrogen peroxide. Have you ever seen Breaking Bad, because this bitch is-"
Ultraviolet moved her hoof from the bridge of her nose to Spectrum's mouth with astounding speed, "Alright! We get it! This is a first contact briefing, not an A.A. meeting!"
"An Anti Aircraft meeting!?" Red Alert's voice asked through her hoof. This may have been a wise choice, as she moved her hoof. But perhaps not, because it was soon landing with force on the back of their head.
"Spectrum," Ultraviolet growled, aggravated, "Shapeshifts based on current personality, everyone clear? Good. Moving on."
There was a sigh of relief breathed by six ponies, a dragon, and a narrator who frankly didn't feel like telling the life stories of two more ranting freak-show attractions.
"What about him?" Pinkie Pie jumped to Doorjam, "What's your awesome, super-duper cool ability?" she asked. When he simply shrugged, she pressed on, "C'mooon, you must have some cool power!"
"I have the amazing power to pull a rusty trigger, and risk my neck for seven bucks an hour," Doorjam shrugged, eyes half-lidded.
"You see? Short, explanatory, and to-the-point. That is how it's done, now," Ultraviolet moved back to her blackboard, "We need somewhere to repair our vehicle from, and to use as a temporary research station and barracks. Do you have an building with the necessary resources and equipment to suit us?"
Twilight was quiet for a while. When at last that she spoke, it was nearly shouting, "Why should we? What do we get out of this? I mean, you burst into my castle, and interrupted my reading-"
"Weren't you napping?" asked Violet.
"I was reading while napping!" Twilight snapped, "Why should we give you a compound? Why should we even house you at all!? I mean, I'm all for friendship and progress, but you ponies are dangerous! One of you eats animals, one of you swears at everypony, one of you explodes for no reason! Okay... so, they're all the same pony, whatever. That just makes them even more dangerous!"
"She's a little grumpy when she gets woken up from her naps," Spike whispered to Ultraviolet.
Ultraviolet took a deep breath, a few ponies flinched, "No-no, she's right. Science does not 'pay the bills', as it were. In exchange for housing and assistance from you, we will share our findings and attempt to help Equestria through the process of becoming an interuniversal race."
"Aaand?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"What more do you want?" Atom asked, using falsetto to almost sound non-monotone, "We've already given you access to our findings and knowledge, and I don't have any extra kidneys." Everypony gave him a strange look. Even Twilight gave him a questioning, though annoyed glance, "Methanol has a really fucking simple atomic makeup." Atom sat on his haunches, once again bored. Possibly. It was kind of hard to tell with someone who had two tones.
"Currant Event could teach me how to fight robot ponies!" Rainbow said, striking a heroic pose.
"You gotta hit 'em in the batteries!" Red Alert said, jumping to mirror her.
"Oh! And Atom can help me bake stuff with whatever Methanol is!" Pinkie Pie shouted.
"I wonder how beer-batter pancakes would taste." Atom mused.
"How abou' Doorjam here gives me some help on the farm?" Applejack suggested.
"I've done harder work."
"Mm-maybe Goldenrod could help me grow some food for some of my new animals?" squeaked Fluttershy from behind a pile of books.
"Well I'll try, but... y'know, no promises..."
"Ooh! Perhaps Genre and I can design a dress that uses some of that pleather I've had laying around," Rarity said.
"How do you feel about harnesses?"
"It's settled then. We'll give you a place to work, and you help us when we need it." Twilight said diplomatically.
"Fair enough." Ultraviolet stepped beside her, "Where are we stationed?"
"My old house, the Golden Oaks Library." Twilight said, partially lost in nostalgia.
"Umm... Twilight?" Fluttershy said quietly, "I'm sorry, but, wasn't your old house destroyed when you fought Tirek?"
"Yes," Twilight held her hoof up, "but, the laboratory in the basement should be relatively unharmed"
"A lab, excellent" Violet said, rubbing her hooves "Let's get to work."
As night fell on the lands of Equestria, something twitched. Something dead.
For those of you with unspeakable names, this not supposed to happen.
Under earth and soil, a cadaver lurched.
Again.
And again.
And again, until in it's throat it caught what it desired.
A soul.
It twisted, and cracked, and snapped, and squished, until it found a form it deemed usable.
And then it scraped. For hours it scraped away at its tomb, but at at last it saw moonlight.
As it crawled from the hole, it thought it ought to speak, to make sure it was still able.
Quietly and slowly, with a voice ragged from death, it spoke one word.
It's one word. It's one purpose. It's one birthright.
Ret-ree-byuu-shun.
Author's Note
Fun Fact: StrawberryP is a butt, who rarely has time to proofread.
I love her dearly.
It was a wonderfully sunny morning when Violet's team was finishing up. Although, very few of Equestria's mornings weren't wonderfully sunny. Beams of golden sunlight trailed through the sunroof that Atom had transmuted, and there were birds to be heard chirping through it.
"The workbench goes over there. No, there! There! Ughh," Violet had been supervising the renovations since noon the previous day, and though no-one had gotten any sleep, Violet was wearing the least thin. As she rubbed the bridge of her muzzle, she only hoped that Genre's 'signature morning after breakfast' would be worth the wait, especially as he had been working on it for the past hour, "Just- just leave it there, I'll move it later. Mike, remind me to install a cargo elevator."
"Will do," Mike grunted as he and Applejack stood the workbench on it's feet. Applejack had volunteered to help Mike move the necessary cargo from the D.D.C. to the Lab as a gesture of goodwill, but it was likely she wanted to talk to him as well.
"And they fired ya fer' keeping yourself alive?" She asked.
"Yeah, and the fact that I couldn't afford deodorant on five bucks an hour."
"Gosh, that's horrible. Hope they didn't make ya stay fer' overtime," Applejack said with a small laugh, "So where else did'ja work?"
"Eh, I've done this and that," Doorjam said, moving towards the door with her, "Mallcop, mall janitor, mall protester, wheelman, hell I even worked as a bodyguard for a Russian mob boss for a stint in the eighties. Started thinking about quitting when I came into work and found my supervisor's head in a pile, three feet from his body."
As Applejack followed him, staring in a mixture of horror and amazement, Violet regained her composure, "Alright. Spectrum, Atom, how are the barracks coming?"
"We're ahead of schedule, ma'am!" Red Alert shouted over the radio. A few hours back he had found an old radio while digging, and asked Violet to rig it for interuniversal communication standards. She hadn't expected him to tune a radio of infinite possibility to a station that only played a grating army tune. Red Alert peeked his head into the now square main room which previously housed Twilight's researching equipment, "At this rate we'll be done before breakfast. Monotone! Double time! We need that dirt out of here fast!" He said, diving back into the remaining dirt, and flinging his Entrenching Tool wildly, "Take that you topsoil bastards!"
Violet rolled her eyes, "At this rate, Equestria will have a space program before breakfast..." Violet moved back to the table at the middle of the main room to examine her floor plan. It was hardly a floor plan, it looked as if someone had drawn four squares in a T shape onto blue paper, and labeled them. It wasn't much space to work with, but she supposed it was temporary. A very exact knock sounded at the door. It was specific, but soft. Lazy, "Enter."
The noble princess entered the building clad in the royal regalia of a bathrobe and slippers, "You're all up early," Twilight said from behind her coffee.
"Late," Violet corrected. Her gaze didn't move an inch, as she didn't deem it necessary to look up from the modification of interior reinforcements for the sake of pointless social pandering.
"You are dirt to me! You are dirt to everyone! It is because you are an dishonorable maggot fruit bowl! Who is made of dirt! And maggots!" Red Alert dug with great fervor, insulting it as he did. Neither purple mare had the patience nor energy to acknowledge it.
"They're probably made of fruit, too," Genre called from the other room. Red Alert became even more enraged with the pile of dirt.
"I will kill your whole dirt family! I will bury your whole dirt family!" Red Alert shouted from his earthy battleground, "I'll kill half your dirt family and then bury them in the rest of your dirt family! And even some dirt families you've never met before! It will be very awkward for you in your time of grieving! dirty grieving!"
Twilight rubbed sleep out of her eyes, staring about the room as if she hadn't been there before. Technically, she hadn't, "You didn't sleep?"
Genre cantered into the room, setting a large tray onto the table. It had plates piled high with syrupy waffles and well-buttered toast, respectable piles of omelettes and fried eggs, condensating pitchers of orange juice and whole milk, all around a large, nigh-comical bowl of oatmeal, "Where would we? I mean, we're just finishing the barracks now. Also BREAKFAST IS DONE!" Genre bellowed, causing Twilight to jump, and Violet to adjust her glasses haughtily, "Help yourselves," he added sweetly.
"Thank you, Genre," Twilight responded, craning her neck over the myriad breakfast, searching ungratefully for something, "All-" Twilight was interrupted by Genre placing a small, purple plate of pancakes before her, "Thank you, Genre," Twilight turned to Genre this time to make the gesture seem less for-show, "All of you have certainly been busy. I don't think a group of normal ponies could have gotten this done if they had a few days to plan!"
Normal ponies, Violet thought. "Genre!"
"Yepperooni~?"
"Is there power to the lab yet?" Violet asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
"Positooni~! By which I mean no," Genre said in sotto voice, "Atom hasn't even transmuted the solar panels yet, much less installed them."
"Well, I suppose we'll just have to survey rather than scan, won't we?" Violet picked up her plate and coffee with a glow of her shaky lavender aura, Genre and Twilight following towards the room opposite the near-finished barracks, the lab. All of the equipment that had previously been Twilight's, with a few makeshift additions of Violet's, "Alex, Mike can take your place when he gets back, go find me two microwaves, a coffee machine, and as much Polaroid film as you and your little yellow friend can carry."
Violet didn't need to turn and look to know that soft green buds had covered Alex's body, turning it from red to gold, "Uh, some money would help..." Violet heard the door close softly. He'd find a way, he usually did.
Violet sat down at a table, setting down her plate, taking a clipboard and pencil in it's place, and pushing aside the fanciful assortment of melted glass vials and offering Twilight a seat, which she took very quickly. Wouldn't want to appear impolite before the peasant ambassadors, would we? Violet thought snidely, "Name?"
"Twilight Sparkle,"
"Race and subspecies?"
"...Equestrian and unicorn, I suppose?"
Violet gave an unamused look.
"Oh. Equis Sapiens Regis,"
That seemed sensible. Violet scribbled the information down onto her clipboard, perhaps this princess wasn't as dull as she seemed, "Gender?"
"Female," she said, seeming a bit indignant.
Was it really necessary? Violet supposed it couldn't hurt, these days, "Genitalia?"
"...Pardon?"
Violet groaned. How she despised ignorance, "Genitals. Sex organs. Ugh, private parts," Violet hated laymen's terms even more.
"I'm sorry, I still don't know what you mean," Twilight was visibly confused.
"Twilight, are you familiar with sex?" Genre interjected.
"Well, who isn't? Humans didn't talk about... genitals.. when I was around them."
Genre split a wide grin, "Oh this is gonna be interesting," he said, taking a sly bite of his held waffle, "So Twi, how do you gals reproduce?"
"Well... When a mare and a stallion love each other very much..."
"Where are we going to find money for two microwaves, a coffee machine, and a bunch of film?" A golden, practically sparkling Spectrum stood in the Ponyville town square, wondering aloud as a whole.
Buy war bonds!
Can't sell pelts, or meat, or ivory, god I hate herbivore societies...
It'd take far too long to grow anything... Maybe Fluttershy could help us?
She is the element of... niceness or some shit, right?
Kindness, yeah. I don't want to be rude... Then again we don't really have a choice, do we?
E A T H E R
Now where does she live?
S T R I P T H E F L E S H F R O M H E R B O N E S
L E T H E R T A S T E T H E E N D L E S S S L E E P A S W E T A S T E H E R
Spectrum pushed the voice to the back of their head, and continued through town, winding through the booths and small stores that someone had been sprinkling over Ponyville, but had slipped and accidentally thrown a third of a cup. It seemed there was nothing you couldn't buy from the Ponyville market. There was a Quill and Sofa shop, a stall specifically for celery, there was even a bag emporium.
Spectrum couldn't fathom what you might need a bag emporium for, there weren't that many ways to make a bag, but it was impressive nonetheless.
Spectrum trotted through through town, occasionally stopping so Goldenrod could inspect the local flora, or so Red Alert could admire the occasional firework from behind a pair of golden eyes.
Wow, maybe I should move here. Property here can't be that expensive, Goldenrod thought, noting the multitude of houses that were currently under repair. A good deal of them were unharmed, save for a few broken windows, but several had refrigerator sized holes burnt in them, and some had damage that could have only been caused by a falling pin oak. A S U I C I D E B O M B E R a 203 millimeter high explosive shell fired from a Russian SU-152 at 200 yards, which was intercepted by a 44. special or larger tracer round 4 feet before hitting its target, resulting in a premature detonation of the HE burster, causing large amounts of damage to the outer walls and thatched roof, but preventing considerable interior structural damage to the target.
Goldenrod found it prudent to remind Red Alert that he wasn't supposed to demonstrate his wealth of tactical knowledge unless asked to, Look at that charring and structural damage! That is the look of a man who needs tacticalized! Red Alert mentally interrupted, It is also the look of a man who is not a man, but a cleverly disguised building! Why, the last time I saw a man this well disguised, I blew his f-
"M-ma'am? Are you alright?"
